[Ten Forward] for ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dreams_dont_die
Even on a ship as big as Enterprise, with as many people as it held, there were only so many places to find one of his fellow transplants, since they were prevented from accessing certain parts of the ship. He didn't bother asking the computer where Captain Hunt was, it wouldn't take long to search him out, and Julian did enjoy wandering around without too much threat of everything going pear-shaped.
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Julian looks at the table. He's not exactly sure how much Dylan would put together about his past--if he'd guess at the reason Julian's parents had risked prison and becoming social outcasts by getting their son treatment on Adigeon Prime. He's...not precisely ashamed of it anymore, but it still doesn't feel good to admit, and he hadn't told many people at all why his parents had done it. Miles, Captain Sisko, and that was about it.
"But no, they haven't. And even with my status known, it's not anything that will be reviewed anytime soon--not since we're at war with a power in our time that uses genetically engineered soldiers. It seems that we've only ever been used as weapons."
Julian doesn't necessarily feel kinship with the Jem'Hadar--after all, they're his enemies. But he knows they didn't ask for that sort of life either.
"A little. Not too much. She doesn't seem to be the type to let on about things."
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And Harper, completely unengineered and proud of it, from Earth, an Earth completely unlike the one Julian's holodeck program surrounds them with that gave him absolutely no advantage except the ability to fight like hell, is one of the most brilliant engineers Dylan's ever known.
Not liking the rules in this world he's landed in doesn't change them. But Dylan's never taken kindly to injustice, and it is unjust that Julian, whatever his genetic background, can't be exactly who and what he is and be taken for that. That he and his crew are in the same situation.
That doesn't mean he can't understand the reasoning.
If anyone can, it's the man who's seen first hand what the Nietzschean Rebellion cost the Known Worlds.
He shakes his head, a hint of a fond smile on his face, even as he starts to prod idly at his food.
"Yeah. That's our Trance. But I ask because my world has its own history with genetically engineered warriors that ..."
His laugh is bitter.
"Let's just say it's about as good as yours. But I've seen how different it could be, and it doesn't have to be like that."
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But Julian's enhancements are what got him his Starfleet career, he has to think--he most likely wouldn't be here if it weren't for them. He'd be on Earth, doing...something with his life, he has no idea what. But the person he would have become is long gone. Julian took his place years ago.
And he's also accepted that because of it, there are some people who are uncomfortable with the simple fact that he's not natural. He'd been the same way, before he could live embracing that reality. Not exactly healthy.
"Perhaps in the future, it won't be." He can hope, anyway. Not necessarily for himself, because he's content with his life--as it is in the future, he can be wholly himself and not face censure for it. Generally. Right now, though, that's just simply not the case.
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He shakes his head.
"The war the Nietzscheans launched against the Commonwealth destroyed civilization as I knew it. Left the Known Worlds in chaos and darkness for three hundred years. Killed ..." His voice trails off, and his head shakes, again, sadly. "I don't think anyone knows how many people the war killed, or the occupation of planets that came after it."
Of course, he'd played his part in the casualties of that war. A hundred thousand Nietzschean lives is a hard thing to bear on his conscience, even knowing why he'd done it and how many lives he might have saved from oppression at their hands by preserving history's account of Witchhead.
"There are people who hold that against them," he admits, quietly, because there have been times when he was one of those people. Times when anger at Rhade's betrayal and the then too-fresh, too-close pain of losing his entire world had made him want to wipe out entire Prides. But that's not him. Not at heart. It was only ever a darkness born of anger and hurt.
He knows better. Especially after Witchhead.
"But the idea of holding that against anyone genetically engineered is ridiculous to me. Even against all Nietzscheans. I've got allies, a crew member, even, who are Nietzschean. And I'd like to think your world could take the same attitude."
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So it's not that it was completely outlawed. Just that being enhanced, given abilities beyond the norm, was.
"Therefore, disorders such as the one I likely had as a child--no diagnosis was ever made and therefore I can't confirm it--just don't come up as often. Most parents simply don't know how to deal with them. And...for someone as...prideful as my father, it was a bitter pill." To have a child who didn't quite live up to expectations, who wouldn't have a lucrative and illustrious career. Who might have still been happy, despite that. There were, even with humanity's corrected genome, plenty of people who lived with mental disability and illness.
Julian's still hurt by his parents' willingness to give up on him--on Jules--all these years later. Even if he began to forgive already.
"And frankly, the most visible people who have undergone processes similar to the one I did are...less than completely balanced. There are side-effects, quite often and quite disruptive. Perhaps more so than the conditions the child's parents sought out genetic re-sequencing to address."
It's a disservice to them, one that so soon after meeting his fellows Julian can feel the bitterness of. Jack, Lauren, Patrick, and Sarina deserved as much a chance to contribute as he has--and perhaps now they will--but that didn't change the fact that they'd been altered without their knowledge, surely without informed consent, and now they were paying for it. Just as Julian nearly had a year ago.
"The context is...somewhat different. We simply don't have extensive genetic engineering any longer. There aren't people like yourself and I visible to change the perception away from the violent past. Not to any great degree."
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He holds the cup warm in his hand before sipping, blue eyes fixed on Julian. The doctor's been dancing around the subject of just what his genetic enhancements are and just what they were aimed to correct, and Dylan's curious, of course, but that's not really the point here.
He's picking up enough to get a bit of an idea, at least, and the situation is ... different to most of the genetically enhanced humans in his world, many of whom just ... are. Not to fix any particular condition. The result of enhancements on their ancestors, like Dylan in descending from people on worlds inhospitable to unenhanced humans, or like Beka, just inheriting that little edge that helps make her such a good pilot.
Dylan's expression is sympathetic as he looks at Julian. This is a world far different from his own, when the technology to engineer human genes hasn't had the thousands of years of advancement it has in his world.
A world where things go wrong with it.
"I'm sorry. At least in my world, that sort of side effect doesn't happen much. Not any more. And truth be told, most genetically enhanced people haven't undergone any sort of processes to correct anything. They've inherited enhanced genes like I did."
He shakes his head and shrugs.
"I'm not sure that would make me that great an example to change any perceptions. The actual engineering in my genes happened when my mother's family settled on a Heavy Gravity world."
Though at least in this world, the wars that have caused these prejudices are past.
In Dylan's, the fight between the Nietzscheans and humans still goes on, on slave worlds and in pirate raids and in petty tyrannies across countless planets. There are a lot of people out there still fighting the remnants of the civil war that caused the Fall.
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His disability hadn't been life-threatening. It would have resulted in him having a different life path, almost certainly. But there'd been no guarantee of that, or even that it would have taken. He could have ended off worse than before.
"At any rate, the context is different. There are caveats to the legislation, simply because of how prevalent engineering was in our past. Having ancestry, even Augment ancestry, a certain number of generations back is permissible. And you and your crew are from another reality entirely, or at the very least another time frame. I've done a bit more reading, and I'm not sure our laws regarding it would apply to any of you at all."
It wouldn't be fair to expect, anyway. It's not anything that he personally would challenge legal precedent on, but he preferred to fly under the radar anyway--so to speak. Since Captain Hunt and his crew's presence isn't intentional, and expected to be temporary, he can't expect a reaction to the level of his. It's been 15 years or more, since he researched this in earnest, and while his recall is perfect, his understanding of legal interpretation had been somewhat limited as a teenager.
He sips his tea, but has ignored his scone.
"Hypotheticals aside, do you have any questions I might answer, specifically?"
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When he'd considered the problems he might encounter in an alternate universe where there is not and never has been a Commonwealth, the idea that his genetics might be illegal was far from his thoughts. In part, certainly, that's because there's a difference between being engineered yourself and inheriting enhanced genetics like he did from his mother's family who'd lived on a heavy gravity world before she came to Tarn-Vedra, or Tyr and Rhade from their whole race.
He has his issues with the Nietzschean race, but they're with their actions, their philosophies and beliefs and what they do as a result, not with who they're born. Gaheris might have been a traitor, but Ismael was a loyalist. Tyr is a friend. The Sabra-Jaguar are allies, and for all the trouble they've caused, he needs them. That's what matters.
And that's from their world, not this one. Any of it.
Dylan's fingers tap on the table for a moment.
"Not specifically." He draws out a long, thoughtful breath. "But it is clear I need to learn more about the history of the Federation and this world." He smiles. "Not just because of this."
He hasn't forgotten Trance's words when he first found himself here, either. Hasn't forgotten that this is a world where there's a Federation three times larger than the Commonwealth charter requires.
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Julian had plenty of recreations, the educational value of them potentially questionable, but they were made for fun, re-enactments that he and Miles participated in.
"We use rooms like this for more than sitting around and drinking tea--there are holonovels, exercise programs, and historical recreations that can be run. Among others."
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He's never fooled himself into thinking that the task he'd set himself would be easy, and over a year along he's been proven right about that. They still have a lot of worlds that they need to sign up, and a long way to go. He'd like to learn how it was done here, how a Federation of this many worlds was created.
He's not too proud to learn; he knows that he's not a statesman. He is, however, in a position where he has to be one. Which is nothing his High Guard training ever prepared him for.
He glances around the café they're sitting in, the hologram so real it can be touched and felt and experienced as well as seen, very impressive for this time.
"I'm liking the sitting around drinking tea thing. But the rest of it?
That sounds handy."