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Cardassia City, 2376
“… and finally, don’t offer to replace anyone’s missing molars.”
Sixteen puzzled faces look back at Julian. Seventeen people isn’t nearly enough of a team to solve Cardassia’s present post-bombardment medical crises, but it’s better than no team, he reminds himself. Maybe, once they start to make a difference, more will follow.
Some people deal with breakups (or, as the case may be, a sudden and unexpected but mutually recognized fizzling out) by having sex with lots of people or throwing themselves into a new holosuite program. Julian has admittedly done both. Instead of wallowing in self-pity this time around, he badgered Starfleet Medical into letting him form a volunteer relief team to help Cardassia’s acute lack of qualified medical personnel. He’s fairly sure the eventual approval was half to stop his requests and half so the Federation can feel generous in victory, but he’s not about to quibble about PR if it gets him what Cardassia needs.
“Is there a cultural significance to absent teeth?” asks Dr. T’Tal, for whom sociology is the Vulcan equivalent to a hobby.
“Yes.”
Deep Space Nine, 2370
Garak was making a remarkable recovery for a man who’d been lurking uncomfortably close to death’s door. Not quite the recovery he pretended – his brain scans suggested the headaches were more than minor, no matter what he claimed – but promising all the same.
The situation was improved enough that Julian could move on to other concerns. “You know, Garak, I could replace your molar.”
“I appreciate your concern, but that won’t be necessary.”
“It’s a simple procedure to grow a new tooth.”
“Doctor, as you have no way of knowing that what you’re suggesting is a great insult, I will not take offense – if you drop the subject.”
Julian dropped the subject. No point in aggravating the most stubborn, self-defeating patient he’d ever treated, he reasoned.
After Garak was physically recovered (Julian didn’t care to speculate on psychological healing), they resumed their lunches as usual. It did not escape Julian’s notice that Garak took to ordering soups, stews, and other warm dishes, but he thought better of commenting on the choice.
“You may find this interesting, Doctor,” said Garak, transferring his latest book file to Julian’s padd a month after the wire incident. “The Triumph of Good is one of Cardassia’s most respected children’s novels.”
“A children’s novel? Should I be offended?”
“I think you’ll find it quite educational.”
Julian had. There was an entire chapter devoted to one of the main characters having her molar removed, and how proud she was to have the procedure done. Today I am a true citizen of Cardassia, she said, and her parents celebrated by giving her a hairpin which had belonged to her great-grandmother.
“So giving a molar to the Bureau of Identification is a rite of passage,” Julian surmised.
“I hardly think the term does the experience justice, considering some of the other rites of passage you’ve mentioned,” said Garak. “But I suppose it will have to do.”
“It’s a symbol, then. Of your service to the state.”
“In part, yes.” As usual, Garak declined to elaborate on whatever part Julian was missing. Still, he’d been almost forthcoming, by his standards.
“You were right. I did find this book educational.”
Cardassia City, 2376
“Cardassians give their first molar to the Bureau of Identification, usually by age ten,” Julian explains. “It’s their entrance into life as part of the state. If you offer to replace that tooth, you’re essentially suggesting they give up their loyalty to the state.”
Let it never be said Cardassians fail to embrace symbolism.
“Fascinating,” says T’Tal.
“What happens if they’re missing other teeth? Are we allowed to make suggestions about those?” asks Joe Mara, one of the nurses.
“I’d keep quiet about all four back molars, to be safe. Other teeth are fine.” Julian knows this because he double-checked with Garak yesterday over breakfast, which has replaced lunch as the more convenient meal to share.
He makes a mental note to see if Garak has a copy of The Triumph of Good they could run through a translator for T’Tal.
Julian always thought he didn’t know much about Cardassian society, aside from the importance of the state and family. This is probably because Garak’s idea of sharing information is to mete out small pieces here and there and let Julian attempt to assemble the larger picture on his own. Anyway, it’s only now, explaining key points to his team, that Julian realizes just how much he’s learned over the years.
He’s not prepared for this, exactly. No one could foresee every eventuality when opening a clinic to treat a secretive and traditionally xenophobic species in the aftermath of a devastating planetary assault, and he can only do his best.
The sum total of his knowledge is greater than he’d realized, all the same, and it’s a start.
He thinks of the scan showing Garak’s missing molar. It’s an anchor of sorts for Julian, a reminder that he’s a stranger on this planet and needs to respect their customs, and while he doesn’t intend to share that particular fact with Garak, he thinks his friend would approve all the same.