Chapter Text
It was a slow day in Quarks that was part of a longer stretch of quiet days for the station in general. Julian wasn't even bothering to play darts, just watching Miles go at it while Jadzia entertained a crowd.
"So there's this anomaly and..." Jadzia began ominously, only for her voice to suddenly brighten, "...nothing happened!"
The small group that had been hanging around the senior officers looking for some exciting stories groaned audibly. Julian imagined he was one of the few who wasn't going stir crazy yet.
Back in medical school, he'd been all but allergic to boredom. It was part of why he'd made the admittedly impulsive decision to come to DS9 in the first place. He still cringed at the thought of how he'd said he wanted to practice 'frontier medicine' to Kira.
He was deeply happy that he hadn't explained she had the wrong impression. Bajor wasn't the frontier in his mind. This sector of the quadrant was. Even before the wormhole opened and the Gamma quadrant had become more than the mythical wilds beyond reach.
“Christ on a crutch, Jadzia. We're not supposed to talk about that," Miles grumbled from behind his pint. His work was still a veritable mountain, thanks to the less than stellar state of the station. He was due for some fun, but there simply hadn't been any to have at the moment since the holosuite's offerings were feeling a touch stale.
"Oh, lighten up, Miles," Jadzia said, lazily throwing a dart that landed well. Their game was half-hearted, much like the story she'd told. Julian was only keeping score due to his inability to do otherwise.
Thoroughly disinterested, Julian's eyes drifted up to the second story. Garak was there, pretending to drink but really just people watching. A semi-routine occurrence now, much like the calculation Julian was doing in his head.
Miles was probably going to want to linger in the bar for a minimum of forty-five minutes. Garak would remain for a maximum of thirty. If Julian left to join Garak, Miles would be an absolute wanker for a week.
Julian debated what strategy to deploy to get Miles to leave early when Jadzia nudged him hard in the ribs. He pretended like it hurt. It hadn't been a light tap, and love her as much as he did, she needed the occasional reminder that not everyone was as tough as a Klingon.
"Juju!" Someone called loudly. It was a lower female voice that resonated with operatic precision through Quarks.
"Ex or current misses?" Jadzia asked playfully. Julian could only frown. He'd never heard that voice before and wasn't sure why Jadzia seemed confident it was aimed at him. No one called him anything like that. He turned to look a half-second before a bronze form decked in red collided with him.
"Couldn't bother to pick me up?" the woman demanded as she gave a hug that threatened to crack ribs. Literally. Julian could tell that an average human would have been screaming in pain where he only found it uncomfortable.
"Who are you?" Julian asked in complete shock. She had a similar complexion to him with black hair and the same odd eyes. Her build was also on the lean and lithe side, her curves small but visible with a sweet face and long neck.
There was a lot to take in, but his eyes lingered on her clothes as she broke away from the hug she'd foisted on him. A tunic and pant set with a subtle gold geometric pattern, embroidery, and a particular style to the cut. Especially the neckline that showed off just a bit of collar bones. It looked positively Cardassian, but more specifically like a certain resident tailor had made it.
"Eh? I know you're mad, little brother, but that's a bit much!" she said, irritable as she stepped back from him. She crossed her thin arms over her chest, and an alert went off in Julian's head. Something about the clothes tugged at him though he couldn't say what.
"You have a sister?" Miles and Jadzia demanded together in very different tones. Miles was offended at not knowing. Jadzia was delightfully livid about not being in on the gossip.
Julian said nothing, his mind scanning the woman's features as he tried to understand what her game was. She was clearly an augment. Her strength alone proved that, and she really did look like him too.
It made him question if she were a later creation of the Adigeon Prime facility. Perhaps they'd used his or his parent's DNA to create a new subject to experiment on since his procedure had gone well.
"I know I haven't been around, but this is cold," the woman said unhappily.
"Miss… I feel like there's been some kind of… Well, that is to say, I don't actually know you. So I'd like to take you to the infirmary and see if we can't get this sorted out," Julian said gently, putting on his professional manner with practiced ease. He didn't know what the hell was going on, and it was a bit disturbing. As much the possibility of a long-lost sister as the way she looked at him. She didn't seem to consider him a stranger at all.
"Juli-" she paused, eyebrows knitting. After a sigh, she seemed to steel herself then spouted a string of what sounded like gibberish with a somber expression. Julian took it in, his UT giving an error tone through the whole thing.
It clicked suddenly. She hadn't been speaking nonsense. It was cryptophasia, twin speak. She'd been testing him.
The woman's eyes narrowed dangerously, and Julian knew he'd failed but couldn't do anything about it. He was too busy fending off the knife she seemed to produce from nowhere. He brought his arms up to shield his vitals, but that was all he could do.
This woman wasn't giving him even an inch—her inhuman reflexes conspiring with his habit of never performing at capacity. He wondered if this was going to be how he'd die as the knife sliced into his forearm.
It wasn't until the last moment that Julian realized she wasn't going to kill him. The blade grazed him lightly, slicing through his uniform and into his skin. How intentional that was, he couldn't be sure. From above, a kanar glass came streaking down to shatter where she'd been standing a moment earlier.
Garak followed, landing between him and the woman. Julian had known he was drinking on the upper level but hadn't expected such a quick reaction and was thankful for it.
Julian half expected Garak to let out a hiss or some kind of quip, but he was utterly silent. His eyes were trained on the woman. She likewise seemed to be staring but easily dodged Miles' attempt to grab her from the side.
She let Miles' momentum carry him past her with only a small movement. Thankfully she didn't follow up with the knife, or the Irishman might well have ended up dead. Jadzia's response was more measured. She'd stepped back and used her com.
"Miss, I'm genuinely sorry that there's been some kind of misunderstanding," Julian began. He wanted to diffuse the situation if possible. Something he wouldn't have thought possible until a fraction of a second earlier.
Despite how she'd attacked, she wasn't moving in for another attempt. Her stance was nimble and defensive, foot position suggesting her next move would be a dash for an exit. She didn't seem interested in further confrontation but held her place anyway.
Why was simple to see, Garak had her attention but wasn't her chief focus. No, that was Julian's wound and her knife on which his blood lay.
"Surrender your weapon!" Odo's voice rang out. Compliantly, with her eyes now fully riveted on Garak, the woman dropped her knife and went down on her knees. Her hands were behind her head when Odo surged forward to envelop her like a golden wave.
"It was another test," Julian said in astonishment.
"I beg your pardon, dear?" Garak asked. His were eyes still on the woman as Odo carried her off unprotesting. It wasn't until she was out of Quark's that Garak relaxed and turned to look at Julian properly.
"She thought I was her brother and tested my identity, and when I failed," Julian gestured to the gash, "she cut me to check if I was a changeling. I think."
"Or you're in shock and making up a story for why a crazy woman tried to stab you," Garak said bluntly. His breathing was ragged and his pupils tightly constricted, full fight mode Julian realized. Garak had viewed the woman as a threat. Still seemed to, going by his continued vigilance.
"Sorry, thank you for your help. I should have said that first," Julian said quickly.
"I'll escort you to the infirmary before you ruin any more of the carpet," Garak said with a dismissive shake of his head for the thanks. Julian nodded, disinterested in his own injury but thinking. He'd need to run some tests on the woman, but those could wait.
First things first, he needed to make sure Garak hadn't ruined his knees with his heroic rescue. It would be just like him to sweep in like that then hide any resulting pain.
Once they were in the infirmary, they bickered. Garak insisted Julian check himself for poison then refused medical treatment despite limping a bit. Julian only convinced him to allow it by pointing out that he'd need to be in top shape if his sister - if the woman - was a crazy assassin like Garak assumed.