Letters and Saints (PG) written for nyssa23
I'm so sorry that this is late! But I had some problems getting in touch with my beta reader and I just got it back from her last night. Hope you like it, and that it was worth a wait. I also apologise for the LJ usernames not being linked as they usually are, but for some reason my account insists on screwing it all up anytime I write it out and then link them as they should be.
Title: Letters and Saints
Author: Neth (neth_dugan)
Written for: nyssa23 (Request: Garak/Bashir, the snarkier the better)
Rating: PG
Summery: It's coming up to winter on Cardassia, and times are going to get harsh. A
uthor's Notes: Beta read by kmanderson and based after 'What You Leave Behind'. Also has a few minor references to 'A Stitch in Time'.
My dear Doctor,
As you no doubt are aware, the Cardassian winter is soon to set in and the people here are gathering any clothing that they can find and trying to prepare for the cold. It is true that we can survive temperatures comfortable for many humanoid species easily, if not pleasantly, but a Cardassian winter can be far colder than that, and with all the ash still in the atmosphere blocking much of the heat from reaching us, I fear it shall be harsh. No grand placement of rubble will help us now, and the majority of the Alpha Quadrant seems to have wilfully forgotten us. Oh, it is not their fault, after what our people’s leaders did, but it is not a pleasant thought. I do know you are trying to help - there is no need to remind me of that, and it is much appreciated by everyone here but one man’s intermittent help is not nearly enough to help the number of people who need that help so urgently. No matter how wonderful that help may be.
Our first winter since the end of the war shall not be a pleasant one, and I fear many deaths…
***
Mr Garak,
Life here at the station is the same as always, Kira’s now fitting into the role of station commander more neatly, though she does still have that small problem of her temper. Cassidy and Jake Sisko are fussing over baby Sarah - between them, the staff and the Bajorans the girl is going to be spoilt rotten; I’m just hoping it doesn’t affect her too much. I’ve heard horror stories from mothers and teachers alike - it is a fate to be avoided at all costs.
It’s not my help I need to remind you of, I’m quite aware that you know about it, and after all these years you should know I’d neither abandon you nor a group of people in need. There has been an organisation set up to help war torn worlds, and yes, the list of planets they intend to aid includes Cardassia. I would have convinced them to change their minds if it wasn’t, and I don’t doubt Kira would be a good ally in that regard - after what she saw when she was helping you with the resistance I think she finally changed her mind on your species.
In fact, I’ve arranged some time off to help out at your local clinic in two weeks and will bring all the medical supplies and blankets the Runabout can carry. It isn’t much, I know, but until more organised efforts come to fruition there is not much else to do…
***
My dear Doctor,
I know your human morals and inclinations demand that you torture yourself for not doing enough, when in reality you do more than any other man in your position would be capable of. Doctor, you simply must realise that you cannot do it all, all at the same time. You have done all you can, and will continue on until the day you collapse from all the hard work you do. Cardassia already owes you a great debt, and though we currently have no saints, nor any means to create any as your culture does, if you continue on in this manner we may just have to invent one.
It is good news that there are those out there other than you and the Colonel who are sympathetic to us, and would try to help. I hope that help does not come too late, however - each night grows colder and the children have never known anything like it. I see them every day, you know, playing in the streets, in the rubble and gazing at the tribute in the ruins before scampering off home to help their parents as they should. Young Dortan has been asking after you recently as you have apparently promised him some books on how the body works. I must say, you do quick work when you so desire.
The schools are starting up again, and each child attends eagerly, waiting to discover some great new secret…
***
Garak,
If you so much as try to make me anything resembling a saint, I will find you and use these genes to do something very detailed, specific and not at all pleasant.
- Julian
***
My dear Doctor,
What ever makes you think you’d be able to find me in such an event, even with those magnificent genes of yours? I have a talent for remaining hidden when I want to, as you well know, and I think you’ll find the task quite… stimulating.
***
My Tailor,
My, my Garak, was that a proposition?
-- Julian
***
My Doctor,
What would you do if it were?
***
A large Federation Roundabout set down onto the cold and hard ground heavily, an unusual thump being heard as the soil accepted its new burden. Instead of the expected opening of the shuttle’s door, a sparkling beam of light indicating transporter use appeared, revealing a man in his late thirties with dark hair, and skin the most delicious shade of tan that came naturally to him due to his heritage, one that others sometimes used skin dyes to gain. His smile was wide, and was returned by the Cardassian who’d been waiting for him as the pair stared at each other - silent messages passing between them.
“Good to see you again, Garak.”
“You too, my dear Doctor - a visit from you is always welcome.”
“I know, and I’m glad to come here. Cardassia certainly grows on you after a while, and you know I can’t stay away.”
“For more reasons than one,” Garak smiled his small smile that always said that the cogs in his head were moving in a not entirely innocent manner. Julian had long ago grown to appreciate that expression on his face. Good, or at least interesting, things tended to happen when he wore it.
“The Roundabout is full of medical supplies, and I really mean full. There was barely enough room for me to walk from the seat to the transport pad. I’d have arranged it like that rubble you have in the garden, but alas…” Julian smiled cheekily.
“I am sure that the volunteers would be more than happy to unload it for you, even if they barely manage to survive the disappointment of its arrangement.”
“Poor them. I’m sure I could come up with something if they need it.”
“Oh they would never ask, you know how we Cardassians are.”
“I do, very well in fact. And I always enjoy learning more; a stimulating conversation is one of the best things about life.”
The two walked off towards Garak’s new accommodations, the partially rebuilt house of Enabran Tain, medical clinic for the ill and home to the rubble that had become iconic to the people of this planet. There, they would have a stimulating conversation of the physical kind, clothes forgotten and tongues as sharp as ever in the dim light of the moons now hazy through dust. And in the morning the human would open the clinic, tutor young Dortan in biology, and the Cardassian would go to the new capital building and try to put the planet back together again.
It was a harsh life, but a good one, especially when a very intelligent Doctor knew just exactly what to do with that tongue of his.
Title: Letters and Saints
Author: Neth (neth_dugan)
Written for: nyssa23 (Request: Garak/Bashir, the snarkier the better)
Rating: PG
Summery: It's coming up to winter on Cardassia, and times are going to get harsh. A
uthor's Notes: Beta read by kmanderson and based after 'What You Leave Behind'. Also has a few minor references to 'A Stitch in Time'.
My dear Doctor,
As you no doubt are aware, the Cardassian winter is soon to set in and the people here are gathering any clothing that they can find and trying to prepare for the cold. It is true that we can survive temperatures comfortable for many humanoid species easily, if not pleasantly, but a Cardassian winter can be far colder than that, and with all the ash still in the atmosphere blocking much of the heat from reaching us, I fear it shall be harsh. No grand placement of rubble will help us now, and the majority of the Alpha Quadrant seems to have wilfully forgotten us. Oh, it is not their fault, after what our people’s leaders did, but it is not a pleasant thought. I do know you are trying to help - there is no need to remind me of that, and it is much appreciated by everyone here but one man’s intermittent help is not nearly enough to help the number of people who need that help so urgently. No matter how wonderful that help may be.
Our first winter since the end of the war shall not be a pleasant one, and I fear many deaths…
***
Mr Garak,
Life here at the station is the same as always, Kira’s now fitting into the role of station commander more neatly, though she does still have that small problem of her temper. Cassidy and Jake Sisko are fussing over baby Sarah - between them, the staff and the Bajorans the girl is going to be spoilt rotten; I’m just hoping it doesn’t affect her too much. I’ve heard horror stories from mothers and teachers alike - it is a fate to be avoided at all costs.
It’s not my help I need to remind you of, I’m quite aware that you know about it, and after all these years you should know I’d neither abandon you nor a group of people in need. There has been an organisation set up to help war torn worlds, and yes, the list of planets they intend to aid includes Cardassia. I would have convinced them to change their minds if it wasn’t, and I don’t doubt Kira would be a good ally in that regard - after what she saw when she was helping you with the resistance I think she finally changed her mind on your species.
In fact, I’ve arranged some time off to help out at your local clinic in two weeks and will bring all the medical supplies and blankets the Runabout can carry. It isn’t much, I know, but until more organised efforts come to fruition there is not much else to do…
***
My dear Doctor,
I know your human morals and inclinations demand that you torture yourself for not doing enough, when in reality you do more than any other man in your position would be capable of. Doctor, you simply must realise that you cannot do it all, all at the same time. You have done all you can, and will continue on until the day you collapse from all the hard work you do. Cardassia already owes you a great debt, and though we currently have no saints, nor any means to create any as your culture does, if you continue on in this manner we may just have to invent one.
It is good news that there are those out there other than you and the Colonel who are sympathetic to us, and would try to help. I hope that help does not come too late, however - each night grows colder and the children have never known anything like it. I see them every day, you know, playing in the streets, in the rubble and gazing at the tribute in the ruins before scampering off home to help their parents as they should. Young Dortan has been asking after you recently as you have apparently promised him some books on how the body works. I must say, you do quick work when you so desire.
The schools are starting up again, and each child attends eagerly, waiting to discover some great new secret…
***
Garak,
If you so much as try to make me anything resembling a saint, I will find you and use these genes to do something very detailed, specific and not at all pleasant.
- Julian
***
My dear Doctor,
What ever makes you think you’d be able to find me in such an event, even with those magnificent genes of yours? I have a talent for remaining hidden when I want to, as you well know, and I think you’ll find the task quite… stimulating.
***
My Tailor,
My, my Garak, was that a proposition?
-- Julian
***
My Doctor,
What would you do if it were?
***
A large Federation Roundabout set down onto the cold and hard ground heavily, an unusual thump being heard as the soil accepted its new burden. Instead of the expected opening of the shuttle’s door, a sparkling beam of light indicating transporter use appeared, revealing a man in his late thirties with dark hair, and skin the most delicious shade of tan that came naturally to him due to his heritage, one that others sometimes used skin dyes to gain. His smile was wide, and was returned by the Cardassian who’d been waiting for him as the pair stared at each other - silent messages passing between them.
“Good to see you again, Garak.”
“You too, my dear Doctor - a visit from you is always welcome.”
“I know, and I’m glad to come here. Cardassia certainly grows on you after a while, and you know I can’t stay away.”
“For more reasons than one,” Garak smiled his small smile that always said that the cogs in his head were moving in a not entirely innocent manner. Julian had long ago grown to appreciate that expression on his face. Good, or at least interesting, things tended to happen when he wore it.
“The Roundabout is full of medical supplies, and I really mean full. There was barely enough room for me to walk from the seat to the transport pad. I’d have arranged it like that rubble you have in the garden, but alas…” Julian smiled cheekily.
“I am sure that the volunteers would be more than happy to unload it for you, even if they barely manage to survive the disappointment of its arrangement.”
“Poor them. I’m sure I could come up with something if they need it.”
“Oh they would never ask, you know how we Cardassians are.”
“I do, very well in fact. And I always enjoy learning more; a stimulating conversation is one of the best things about life.”
The two walked off towards Garak’s new accommodations, the partially rebuilt house of Enabran Tain, medical clinic for the ill and home to the rubble that had become iconic to the people of this planet. There, they would have a stimulating conversation of the physical kind, clothes forgotten and tongues as sharp as ever in the dim light of the moons now hazy through dust. And in the morning the human would open the clinic, tutor young Dortan in biology, and the Cardassian would go to the new capital building and try to put the planet back together again.
It was a harsh life, but a good one, especially when a very intelligent Doctor knew just exactly what to do with that tongue of his.