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Who: Julian Bashir
Broadcast: Fleet-wide
Action: Marsiva
When: 17-June until shuffle

[Most people wake up fairly fast, but Julian doesn't. He hasn't slept properly in weeks and being somewhere fairly warm and comfortable and quiet is a luxury. When he does stir, it's slowly, eyes blinking open and shut again, almost looking like he's going to go back to sleep. He looks young and peaceful, if a bit thin and scruffy.

And then he realises he isn't where he should be and he's not with who he should be with. He sits up abruptly, looking around.]

Garak?!

Martok? Davik? Worf?

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Believe me, I know all about trying - and failing - to convince Worf not to do something. [She folds her arms.] Especially if it involves that damn Klingon honor of his.

[Now, now Bev. Cultural sensitivity and all that, you know.]

Ugh! Klingon honour!

[Julian throws his arms up.] In between Klingon honour, Cardassian mind games, Romulan tempers and the Breen in the corner, it's a miracle we got any message out at all! I really don't know why Jadzia is so enamored with the Klingon cultural obsession with honour!

[Beverly smiles, but her amusement is tinted with apprehension. All those people together... how bad does this war get, if the Klingons, Cardassians, Romulans, and Breen are in a camp together with a Federation officer? And when Julian goes back... when she goes back... Prime Directive or no, how can she stand by silently and not warn the Federation of what's coming? She tries not to focus on that part of what he's saying. Instead:]

Jadzia? I'm not familiar with that name...

Lieutenant Commander Jadzia Dax. Dax's last host was Ambassador Curzon Dax, who was part of the Klingon/Federation negotiations.

She's a Trill.

[In case that wasn't completely apparent.]

And a friend. And superior officer. And... involved with Worf.

[Don't worry, Julian. Beverly knows plenty about Trill... and about being in love with one. She smiles broadly, glad that Worf has found someone, though she assumes this means Worf will be leaving the Enterprise within a couple of years, which does make her a little sad.]

Ambassador Dax... yes, I think... I think Odan might have mentioned him. If not from him, I surely have heard that name in the context of the negotiations.

[Her smile fades into a frown as she considers what she should tell Julian next.]

Listen, Dr. Bashir, I want to tell you before anyone else does because... well, it was a bit of a shock to me when I was told, and I wish I had heard it from someone who understood my reaction a little better: Atroma has injected all of us with subdermal implants that interfere with our neural patterns. For people like you and I, who are already used to life in space, the difference isn't as noticeable, but it gives everyone basic knowledge about space... which I'll grant is good for our crew mates from a pre-warp society. Each person is also given a certain skill set - piloting, engineering, cooking - that is useful to ship's operations, whether they knew anything about the topic before or not. In my case, I was just given knowledge of how to work the medical equipment here, so nothing unusual there.

[She pauses, letting him absorb that before continuing.]

What threw me the most is how they refer to these implants: they're called augments. People are very likely, upon meeting you, going to ask you what your augment is, meaning which skill set were you given. None of them know, of course, the meaning behind that word for us, so I wanted you to be prepared for that.

Edited 2015-06-20 13:33 (UTC)

Well, Jadzia's the new host. New being comparative. Most recent? She's our lead science officer, she's brilliant, and I've been told that coming from me, that's a compliment. Not that I think people are stupid generally. I'm just smarter than most of them.

[Well... it's not meant immodestly. Like stating stars are bright and water is wet, Julian is smart.

But he then listens attentively, nodding and looking increasingly uncomfortable. His hand dashes up to the spot, pressing and drawing a slight wince of discomfort. He whispers in her brief pause.]

Engineering. I'm an engineer.

[He just knows it, like he just knows so many things he's been briefly exposed to, only without the accompanying memory and flash of where he knows it from.

And then that word and he actually blanches.]

Au- augments. They- no, of course not. It's a technological, neuro-cortical augmentation implant of some kind.

[He gives a laugh that is a touch closer to hysteric than easy.]

I wonder if Garak had worked out how to hack his. He managed it with his other implant, I don't see what would stop him this time.

[She watches his reaction with sympathy at first, then a little alarm. She had been frightened too but not quite to the same level... of course she came here from a poker game, not an internment camp, so for now, she simply chalks it up to that. His emotional states is no doubt very fragile right now.

She shakes her head.]

These aren't anything like what we have at home. So far no one has been able to remove or hack into the implant. Trying to do so only results in extreme, debilitating pain. Even people who are capable of reaching a non-corporeal state have one, and they can't phase away from it.

Trust me, if anyone was going to do it, it would've been Garak.

[Sheer bloody mindedness came to mind.]

Is there a teleporter? Some way I can find you? I suppose I should see what's going on around me/

No, not one we can access anyway.

[She looks very upset about this fact. If they had a teleporter, she wouldn't be bothering with the video right now.]

The ship you're on right now is called the Marsiva and it's the command center for the fleet, though while you're there you'll be confined to one deck. At the end of the week you'll be randomly assigned to a smaller ship and beamed directly aboard. Whatever ship you end up on, I'm on the Blue Fish, so you can find me there. Or I'll come to you.

[She pauses, chewing on her lower lip thoughtfully for a moment.]

There's so much to tell you... most of it can wait, but the other important thing you should know is that we're on television, something they call a "reality" show. [Her nostrils flare angrily.] They're using us for their entertainment.

[Julian looks around, instinctively, for the recording devices, but rationalises very quickly that they'd be well hidden from view and built into the very infrastructure of the whole fleet.]

Do we... get any privacy?

[He's used to being watched in the prison camp, but even there, they were mostly left alone. The guards were to stop them escaping, there was less care about them fighting each other.]

Marsiva, single deck, you're on the Blue Fish, I'll be able to leave soon. What sort of time schedule do they keep? The station runs on twenty six hour rotations.

Not any real privacy... they are very concerned with ratings, however, so if you're doing something dull they probably aren't going to air it.

And it's a twenty-four hour rotation, like Earth.

[Julian hugs himself, shivering softly. It sounds like hell, always being viewed, always having to censor yourself.]

Earth time rotation. Okay. Couple of less hours in a day. How do you not go insane, knowing they're always watching you?

[Instinctively, she wants to reach out a hand to Julian, for reassurance. Instead, she simply rests her hand on edge of the computer screen sympathetically. Considering the situation he's in and where he just came from, he's holding up admirably, but he still looks scared and the way he hugs himself tugs at her heart. However, all she can do for now is keep talking to him.]

Honestly, I just try not to think about it too much. It gets easier, as you go, to forget that the cameras are there. Which, I suppose is the point.

[It's another thing for him to add to his mental roster that was never quiet. Never forget you're being watched.]

I suppose so. I- I need to think on all this. And maybe catch up on some sleep, now that I'm somewhere that isn't just this side of freezing at all times.

I'm sorry, I don't mean to be ungrateful, it's just... a lot. And sleep will help the shock.

No, no, don't apologize. It's a lot to take in. We'll talk later... you do whatever you need to recouperate, I'll be here.

Thank you, Doctor Crusher.

[It takes a moment for him to work out how to turn it off, but then the screen goes black.]

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