Chapter Text
A couple of weeks after I decided to write this fic, before I’d done any writing, I got my hands on a copy of Far From The Tree, a phenomenal book about the intertwined natures of disability, difference, and identity, with a very useful and heartbreaking chapter on autism. Shortly after I decided to make Innogen Bashir a graphic designer, I received a copy of Dialog, a book showcasing the work of the Carbone-Smolan design agency which gave me a good idea of what her work would actually entail. When I needed a name for a filicide news piece in the story, I just picked one I’d seen on the Bioshock wiki that had a nice sound to it – that I found actually belonged to someone guilty of infanticide when I decided to check the name on Google, making it a name that would absolutely be included on Bashir’s newsfeed.
At first I’d wanted to write this fic because I couldn’t believe nobody had explored this possibility, and then I realized I was probably onto something. Once is random, twice is coincidence, three times is a pattern. It fell together in such a way I just rolled up my sleeves and got to work without questioning anything. Not even the fact that my monthly yogurt consumption has roughly quadrupled since last October.
Besides wanting to fill a perceived void in the fandom, I had a more personal reason for wanting to write this story. While the genetic engineering reveal opened up a number of possibilities and led to some good episodes, I still can’t help but feel that something was taken away from the show, and the producers almost committed to a sort of denial about who Julian Bashir was as a character. And I wanted to steal him back from them. So I did.
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From a Doylist perspective, very little of the greater world of the show would be different – Bashir’s genetic and neurological status wouldn’t have any impact whatsoever on the Founders’ plans to conquer the Alpha Quadrant, Nog’s decision to join Starfleet, or Worf’s assignment to the station and subsequent relationship with Jadzia. From a Watsonian perspective, there would be some things about the world that would be quite different, very few of which come about because of who Bashir is.
Damar and his family are from the southern archipelago. It’s O’Brien who gets tapped for Section 31; his work with the Orion Syndicate was his qualifying audition. When news of the intelligence agency reaches the rest of the senior staff, Bashir’s the only one who isn’t shocked – surprised, but not shocked, given what he knows about the Federation. When O’Brien asks him if Garak taught him to be that cynical, he tells him no: “I learned it from my parents.”
Dukat is just as angry over Ziyal having any sort of interaction with Garak, and it’s made worse because Garak taking the role of her night-father maintains a properly delineated relationship between the two of them in addition to allowing her a tiny piece of proper Cardassian society while living on the station. As it would be rude to exclude him, much to Lady Sirella’s horror, Garak was invited to and attended Jadzia’s bridal party – and while he didn’t play for the Niners, he was present for the game, because he was serving as the commentator.
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For hand-holding, cheerleading, signal boosting, spot-checking wording, draft accountability, medication consultation, and generally keeping me on the right track, I’d like to thank AnneTheCatDetective, Ayalesca_Fics, BeNiceBeFunny, Bmouse, CyanWrites, Eponymous_Rose, Fannybawws, JustAMus, Sputnikhearts, and Tinsnip, with the hope I haven’t forgotten anyone.
Particular appreciation goes out to Narwhalwroth, Reasonablysunny, and SerricoJ for their generous patience and detailed notes during both the drafting and editing phases.
My artist Paradigm_Shift, once again.
And to the woman who provided the soundtrack: a final word of thanks to the immutable, inscrutable, inimitable Neko Case.