The Trail: A Star Trek Novel (New Frontier Reloaded Book 1) by ROVER MARIE TOWLE

Author:ROVER MARIE TOWLE
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2017-07-18T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12: Living in Revolting Times

Garak is so preoccupied with last-minute preparations for today's event that he doesn't notice Bashir loitering around his department until he quite literally bumps into the man. “My dear, what a pleasant surprise!” he exclaims, careful to adopt a tone that keeps up the illusion of illicit romance between them for the benefit of his colleagues milling around the office floor. “Whatever are you doing here?”

“I thought I'd stop by for a visit,” Julian says. The smile and hand on Garak's elbow indicate that he too is in on the deception. (At the very least, Garak has managed to convince Julian to pretend to be his lover. That's a start.)

“What about your volunteer assignment? Don't tell me you're playing hockey just to visit little old me.”

“Hooky,” Julian corrects. “And I'm not. The transporters are down again. This time security has the entire corridor blocked off.”

“Well, we couldn't let any curious outworlders get harmed by faulty equipment, could we? Truly, it is all for your own good.”

“I'm sure of it.”

Garak cranes his neck, looking around the office floor. “Where's your constant Klingon companion?”

“One of his patients is very nearly due; he couldn't miss a check-up. So he found transport up to our worksite.”

“But you couldn't?”

“No. There wasn't room in the hovercar. But, as they say on the northern continent, tiyal nokt hoon.”

The entire department falls to silence except for the sounds of multiple items being dropped to the floor in shock. Garak feels every eye in the room on him. “Uh, don't you mean, 'tiyul nokt hun?' The sun always rises?”

Always quick, Julian picks up. “Yes, 'Tiyul nokt hun.' That's what I meant.”

“My dear doctor, you must practice your accent.”

“I know. Perhaps I need more of your lessons.”

Garak takes Bashir by the elbow and all but throws him into his office, locking the door behind them. “What were you thinking?” he hisses. “Do you have some kind of death wish? Do you have any idea what you just said?”

“Yes. Tiyal nokt hoon.” Garak sighs exasperatedly. “It's common phrase. Like 'c'est la vie.'”

“No.” Garak leans far into Julian's personal space bubble and whispers, “It means, fuck the State in the cloaca.”

“Oh my god,” Julian gasps. “I hear people on the northern continent use that phrase all the time. Why would they say something like that?”

“Because, my dear doctor, they are so discontented with the current government that they don't care if they are killed for cursing its name.”

Julian scrubs his hand over his face. “Honestly, that makes sense given how bad things are on the northern continent. Especially compared to this part of the city. I don't blame people for being resentful.”

“Resentment is one thing, this is another.” Garak leans against his desk, casually disengaging the reformed Obsidian Order's listening device with his backside. “Cardassia is facing a time of great change. The old guard, those with status who managed not to be assassinated by the Dominion desire a return to tradition: hierarchy, surveillance, xenophobia, extreme poverty for anyone who isn't a gul or a legate.

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