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Rush Limborg July 2 2011 03:10 AM

Star Trek: From Risa With Love--An Adventure Of Dr. Julian Bashir
All right, folks. I've given quite a bit of build-up to this. I hope it'll prove worth the wait.

Here, I now fully direct my attention to Dr. Julian Bashir. This story is set shortly after he and Ezri break up in Mike and Andy's DS9 Relaunch tale Trill: Unjoined. Though Ezri herself doesn't appear in this tale, she is certainly present in Bashir's mind, in a sense.

As the title implies, I have heavily referred to elements of the James Bond franchise--due, of course, to Dr. Bashir fantasizing along those lines in "Our Man Bashir".

This time, however, the story is not on the holodeck--with the exception of a "pre-titles" sequence. (Interesting note: when writing that sequence, I paced it to the score of the pre-titles sequence of "Diamonds Are Forever", which you can find on YouTube under the title of "Diamonds Are Forever score: Gunbarrel and Manhunt".)

I'll post this tale in chapter-intervals, much as I did for "Rendezvous With Destiny".

All right. Dim the lights, draw the curtains...and bring on the gunbarrel sequence, set to John Barry's legendary theme....


Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
"From Risa With Love"

It was late at night in the city of Hong Kong. Fa Ling stood at the counter of her shop, cleansing it with a cloth, the light on. She had run this trinket store for as long as she could remember—she literally couldn’t recall doing anything else. She wasn’t looking through the glass window-wall, to the street. All was quiet, in the night. All was peaceful—

—until the glass shattered. A man had been thrown through it, falling on his back on the floor, with shards of glass around him.

She let out a yelp at the crash, but froze, saying nothing, as she watched the man whirl out a gun, firing it once at the giant figure outside—doubtless the man who’d thrown him—who went down immediately.

Fa Ling saw the first man rise to his feet, brushing himself off, turning to her. He looked western, with short curled dark hair and a tanned, handsome face. He was tall and gaunt, and dressed in a western black-tie suit.

He gave her a small smile. “Sorry for the mess….”

She found herself returning the smile—until she saw two more figures out in the street, guns at the ready. “Look out!” she cried.

The man whirled around, firing two shots. The figures went down as quickly as the first.

The man turned back to her, smiling again. “I’d wager that’s all of them.”

Fa Ling shook her head in bewilderment—and admiration. “Who…who are you?”

His smile grew, as he walked to the counter. “Name’s Bashir. Julian Bashir.”

He pulled out a checkbook from an inside coat pocket, and took a pen from the counter. “I’d estimate…five hundred dollars in damages, hmm?”

It was actually a great overestimate. But the glint in his eyes made clear that he knew that. He was being…generous.

Fa Ling swallowed. “Th…thank you, sir!”

“No need,” he said with a wink. “My government wouldn’t care for the mess.”

He handed the filled-out check and the pen to her, gave her a nod, and walked off into the night.

Fa Ling narrowed her eyes and smiled. And then she returned to her work.

* * *

Julian Bashir, Double-O Agent of MI6, opened the door to his Hong Kong suite, ready to relax at last. On the other hand…

The program isn’t over yet…which means something is still going on. Perhaps there’s still someone left, to take revenge…?

Whatever it was—tired or not, he wanted to be ready.

“Scarlett?” he called out to his valet—the replacement for his long-since dearly departed Mona Luvsitt.

Nothing. It was also dark inside.

Promptly, he pulled out his Walther, and tread lightly as he entered. He flicked the switch near the door. The light to the foyer turned on.

He looked about him, listening hard for any sound. Nothing.

He proceeded, step by step, into the main room. Still no sound.

He turned on the next switch—

—and was greeted by four thugs, who rushed him the moment the lights went on, two of them grabbing him by the arms from behind, one each.

Bashir kicked both his heels back, and both thugs grunted in pain. As he regained his footing, he jerked one arm away, swinging a fist to the ruffian holding the other arm. Now freed, he swung his other arm upward, his fist meeting the chin of a third man, who went down.

He grabbed the dazed first thug by the collar, and yanked him to the fourth before the latter could pull out his gun. The two heads collided. Both went down.

Thug 2 swung his arm around Bashir’s neck, tightening with all his might. Bashir knew it would be no use to work on the arm. His vision blurred….

With the last of his strength, Bashir plunged his elbow behind him, into the man’s rib cage. Thug 2 grunted, and his arm loosened. Bashir dropped, his head sliding through, and he jerked his head back into the man’s stomach. He shot to his feet, and threw his fist into the side of the man’s face. The man went down, unconscious.

Bashir looked around him. That was all.

Wait—he heard a noise…. It was coming from inside the revolving wall, where his bed lay. Recovering his gun, he pressed the control….

It was Scarlett, bound and gagged. Bashir put his gun away, and freed her.

“Julian—thank heaven,” she whispered, gasping for breath.

Bashir nodded. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, smiling. “And you?”

Bashir looked behind him, as the unconscious quartet of ruffians.

“Been through enough to knock the wind out,” he said. Turning to her with a smile, he added, “Quite a shattering experience.”

She laughed, and threw her arms around him. Their lips met, and nothing more needed to be said.

* * *

Outpost68 July 2 2011 04:39 AM

Re: Star Trek: From Risa With Love--An Adventure Of Dr. Julian Bashir
"From Risa with Love!"

Brilliant! :lol:

TiberiusMaximus July 2 2011 07:25 PM

Re: Star Trek: From Risa With Love--An Adventure Of Dr. Julian Bashir
Awesome start! :D

Favorite line: "Sorry about the mess." Typical Bond one-liner - typically Julian, too.

Rush Limborg July 2 2011 08:10 PM

Re: Star Trek: From Risa With Love--An Adventure Of Dr. Julian Bashir
Thank you both--and welcome aboard, Outpost68!

BTW...if you all are interested, here's the "score" I used for this "pre-titles" sequence:

0:20 to 1:31 for the Hong Kong shop sequence (with 1:12 for "Bashir--Julian Bashir"), 1:32 to 2:20 for his entering the suite, and 2:21 on for the fight. :cool:

For a "theme song" after the sequence...well, what better than:

ares93 July 2 2011 08:13 PM

Re: Star Trek: From Risa With Love--An Adventure Of Dr. Julian Bashir
Chinese lady make a killing I see. :-)

Loved it, mate. Keep 'em comin!

Rush Limborg July 2 2011 08:57 PM

Re: Star Trek: From Risa With Love--An Adventure Of Dr. Julian Bashir
^Yep! Glad you're liking it!

Funny note: "Fa Ling" is actually a nod to all the "gag names" Bond Girls tend to have. (Hint: say her name fast, with the "a" pronounced soft.)

Enterprise1981 July 2 2011 09:16 PM

Re: Star Trek: From Risa With Love--An Adventure Of Dr. Julian Bashir
Nice opening with the James Bond scenario. Look forward to seeing what takes place in "real world". At least JB's willing to consider the collateral damage done. Brings to mind the Seinfeld bit about superheroes with secret identities. "'Gee thanks, Superman, for saving my life. But did you have to crash through my wall?'"

Rush Limborg July 3 2011 02:06 PM

Re: Star Trek: From Risa With Love--An Adventure Of Dr. Julian Bashir
^Well, that...and that I'd wager JB's always been one for generosity to the ladies. ;)

The Badger July 4 2011 11:10 PM

Re: Star Trek: From Risa With Love--An Adventure Of Dr. Julian Bashir
A good, fun opening. Has the feel of vintage Bond, the movies more than the books, and set's up Julian's secret agent fantasies nicely.

Rush Limborg July 4 2011 11:11 PM

Re: Star Trek: From Risa With Love--An Adventure Of Dr. Julian Bashir
^Thank you, Badger!


Enterprise1981 wrote: (Post 5073965)
Nice opening with the James Bond scenario. Look forward to seeing what takes place in "real world".

And...ask, and ye shall recieve. ;)

All right. The opening passage for this chapter is my take on the "Ian Flemming" style. Fans of the original Bond novels will recall that Flemming seemed to have a thing for writing his "descriptive" passages with a "travelogue" air--that is, writing them as if to sell the location in question to potential tourists. He often wrote in present tense for these passages--and then, once the "mini-travelogue", went straight to James Bond and the past tense.

Frankly, those passages, for me, conjure up vast cinematic "wide shots" of the location--such as the first post-titles sequence in Goldfinger, where we see a wide shot of Miami Beach, to John Barry's larger-than-life score.

As it's that sequence that the first part of this chapter is based on. So, without further ado, cue the music...and obverve from above the beauty of Risa, then untouched by the scourge of the Borg....

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
"From Risa With Love"
Chapter 1

Risa. Vacation capital of the United Federation of Planets. Paradise of the galaxy…where one would nearly want for nothing.

Visitors to this world, no matter how many times they have already been there, never cease to be awestruck at the pristine beauty: the brilliance, the perfection. All who bother to know are fully aware of the all-too synthetic, mechanical nature of its beauty—the artificial weather system, keeping storm patterns and global temperatures completely predictable and controlled—but as far as the vast majority are concerned, that is more an asset than a liability. It is an expression of triumph, a monument to the vast ingenuity of sentient life—what we can control…what we can create.

Looking out from an arriving shuttle, visitors are rarely able to tear their gaze away from what they see—the vast resorts, from towering themed hotel complexes looking out to the ocean…to a wide variety of amusement parks, extending throughout the mainland…to the jungles…the islands…the cruise vessels, made to look straight out of a history book…and of course, the long stretch of beaches, wide enough to provide the proper balance between peaceful tranquility…and friendly community.

On one such beach, on a clear summer day, there walked a young gentleman, clad in a blue button-up short-sleeve and tan shorts—tall and gaunt, with a well-developed forehead; short, dark hair; tanned skin…and an easy smile, which he wore on his face as he looked around him, taking in all his surroundings. It’s been too long, he mused. I can’t describe how relieved I am to be back here….

Eventually, Dr. Julian Bashir found an appropriate place to reside for the next few hours—a long beach chair, with its back lowered just enough for comfort. At the very least, he could adjust it if he needed to. It lay underneath the (variable) shade of an outspread, thick-leaved Earth palm tree. It was perfect.

And so, he set his bag down, and sat, leaning back against the rest. He reached into his bag, pulling out a thick old-style hardcover book, which contained the adventures of a literary hero of his…a certain intelligence agent, whom he tended to regard as something of a role model….

He read, with the smile on his face…as his mind simultaneously picked up the sounds around him—the roar of the waves…the rustle of the leaves of the nearby tropical foliage…the endless chatter of beachgoers…the joyous laughter of doubtlessly beautiful young women. As he took in the smell of the sea…he knew he was, at last, content to relax, to forget all his troubles, to cast off his cares for another day….


Upon hearing his name, he looked up—to see an angel standing about a foot away from him.

Well…not quite an angel. As far as he was concerned, only…his last former love…deserved that title. But this woman—a girl with airy, windswept, flowing golden hair and a petite figure, in a sparse two-piece beige swimsuit—was quite close.

He kept his gaze focused and blank. “Yes…?”

She blinked, and broke her gaze in apparent unease. In a soft voice with a somewhat European flair—French?—she said, “I-I simply…wanted to know, sir, if…if it was you.”

Bashir gave a polite smile. “Well…I suppose it is.”

She met his gaze again, with a small smile of genuine admiration.

Bashir tilted his head. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Miss…?”

“Oh—my name is Holland, sir. Cynthia Holland.”

Bashir chuckled despite himself. “Well, Miss Holland, since you keep calling me ‘sir’, I’m going to assume you are either a helpless hero-worshipper on my part…”

The girl’s smile became more confident.

Bashir narrowed his eyes slightly, returning the smile “…or you’re a Starfleet officer, addressing a superior.”

She laughed—a soft, musical laugh. “I…am, sir. Well, I suppose I am, anyhow.”

Bashir raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I’m…” she looked around her, and leaned forward, lowering her voice to a near whisper. “I’m actually a member of Starfleet Intelligence.”

Bashir leaned back. “Indeed?”

She straightened up, nodding. “Yes, sir. I would…show you my identification, but…as you can see…”

Bashir chuckled. “Yes, of course. No, I don’t need proof, Miss Holland. You haven’t given me any reason to doubt you….”

“Well, be that as it may, sir…I still would like to prove my trust.”

“Really? Why so desperate?”

“Oh, it’s not that, sir. It’s only…I don’t want you to have the wrong opinion of me.”

Bashir felt his smile widen. “What wrong opinion?”

She cleared her throat. “That…I’m only trying to impress you—I-I mean…”

Bashir’s eyebrows rose. “Impress…me?”

The girl started wringing her hands.

“My dear…if anyone’s going to be doing the ‘impressing’, it had better be me, trying to impress you.”

She looked at him oddly. “Sir…?”

But he caught himself. Julian Subatoi Bashir—what on Earth do you think you’re doing? Keeping his composure, he replied, “Never mind. My point is…I believe you.”

She nodded, her posture easing up a great deal. “Thank you, sir.”

“Oh, call me ‘Doctor’. I don’t seem that much older than you, anyway.” He waved her to the beach chair right next to his—which had been completely flattened out by whoever had sat there before. “Sit down,” he offered, with a smile.

“Thank you….” She lay down, relaxing completely into the material with a smiling sigh. Bashir suddenly found himself highly attracted to her, as he saw her lying there with such confidence in her posture…her attire leaving little to his imagination.

Oh, knock it off. What are you doing, ogling her like that?

She turned her head to him. “Ten years.”

Bashir blinked. “Pardon?”

“You’re ten years older than me, Doctor.”

Only one of his eyebrows rose this time. “You’ve been reading up on me, Miss Holland?”

“Well, actually…yes, sir.”

“Goodness—you are a hero-worshipper, aren’t you?”

She didn’t tense up this time. She turned completely, so that she lay on her side, facing him. She smiled, her arm propping up her head. “Oh, it’s not that, Doctor. You’ve simply…made an impression throughout the fleet.”

“Particularly in Intelligence, I presume?”

“And the Academy.”

Julian frowned for a moment, thinking. “I…see. I suppose I should be flattered.”

“It’s all right, sir. I understand.”

“Oh, I’m glad you do….” Bashir returned her smile, and turned to rest on his side as well, facing her.

He took this opportunity to register more of her in his mind. Cynthia Holland’s eyes had a rather wide, yet slightly narrowed look about them. Her lips were full…her face soft and filled with the bloom of youth, with a slight dimple in her chin.

She had an “exotic” splendor and enchantment about her, of a far different kind than Ezri’s—Cynthia seemed to carry and present herself as if she were far more conscious of (and confident in) her own beauty than the more modest, demure Ezri Dax—so it would frankly be meaningless to wonder which woman was “more” beautiful, or “more” attractive to him. Different kinds of beauty—“apples and oranges”, as the saying goes. He would say they were both the best of their respective “class”.

Are you just telling yourself that, Julian? Are you just thinking that, as a way of excusing your—sudden attraction to this girl sitting beside you, now…when the pain of losing perhaps the greatest love in your life…is still not that far behind you?

He drove the thought away. Thinking back to the conversation he was having now, he shook his head. “You know…it’s so ironic.”

“What is?”

“Just…there was a time when I would have given almost anything to know that. That I was a legend among those younger than me…an inspiration to you all.”

“But now?”

“Now…I just want to go back in time, and knock some sense into my former self. ‘It’s not about you, you old fool,’ I’d say. ‘It’s about your doing the best you can, being the best doctor—the best man you can be…and leaving it up to history to decide whether you’re worth noting or not….’”

His voice trailed off. She watched him intently, her features unreadable.

Bashir stared at her with a frown. “And…I haven’t a clue why I would open up like I just did—to someone I don’t even know.”

She chuckled. “It’s all right, Doctor. I’ll not tell anyone.”

“Oh, it’s not that I’m worried about.”

“Well, what is?”

“We’ve just met.”

“What do you mean?”

“What do I mean? A few minutes ago, you were the one unsure of how to talk to me!”

“I’m not anymore.”

“No…you’re not anymore. Should that concern me?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know…should it?”

He studied her in silence. He felt he was right to be concerned about himself. Half a year ago…he would have been holding this same kind of charming conversation with Ezri—and Ezri alone. But now…now that she’d left him…now that they’d broken up, due to their lives growing further and further apart…

He sighed. What is it, Julian? Are you feeling guilty—feeling as though, in some odd way…you’re being unfaithful to Ezri? You two are apart, now. There’s no changing that, is there? Might as well make the best of it. At the very least…this woman could help you get over all that, once and for all….

“Well…I guess it wouldn’t hurt, anyway.” He smiled again, burying his pain. “Now—once again, you have me at a disadvantage, Miss Holland. Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

She returned his smile, saying nothing for a while. Finally, she said, “What would you want to know about?”

Ah. That was how it was going to be, then. A woman of mystery…who wishes to see if I’d prefer to keep it that way….

His smile grew. “On second thought…nothing. Absolutely nothing…that I can’t figure out just by studying you in person.”

She chuckled again. “That’s fair enough, Doctor.”

“Yes…it is, indeed.”

They studied each other in silence. Finally, Bashir spoke.

“But let me ask you one thing. Have you been performing your current duties for Intelligence straight out of the Academy?”

“More or less.”

“Then you’re not a ‘field agent’, per se.”


“Oh, you definitely have some experience, I’d say—but it’s not your primary duty in S.I.”

She raised an eyebrow, still smiling. “Indeed? How do you know?”

“Oh…I have my ways. As you’ve probably heard, I’m genetically enhanced.”

She nodded.

“It’s helped me to notice things missed by most others. Your mannerisms throughout our conversation—your initial unease, in particular—strongly imply a limited—one might say uneven—amount of experience in the field. This means that either you have only recently become an agent…or you are primarily not out in the field. However, you do have some practice to that effect…as indicated by, among other things, your retaining your silence about yourself at precisely the right time. My compliments on that, by the way.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“But I also see a certain kind of intelligence about you—the kind that gives you a…certain attention to specifics. They way you’ve been observing me, whenever you look in my direction…”

She frowned. “Oh—I’m sorry if—”

“No, it’s quite alright. I actually like it.”

Her smile returned. “You do?”

“Of course. Now—this means you’re a person for details—necessary for someone specializing in the departments related to numbers, formulas, and information. Specifically, considering the structure of Starfleet Intelligence, this leaves,” he held up three fingers of his hand, “three probabilities.”

She leaned closer to him, smiling in anticipation.

Bashir pointed to the first finger. “First option: Records and Analysis—unlikely, as records officers and analysts are too well needed in their department to be sent out into the field. There’s always a great deal of work to be done behind the desk, in this day and age.”

“Of course.”

He lowered the first finger, moving on to the second. “Second option: Applied Science—which is also highly unlikely, as your hands show no sign of any extensive use in matters of engineering or chemistry.”

“I might be a programmer.”

“No. Again, your hands—the immense use of your fingers in matters of program design and maintenance would register in slight, barely noticeable habitual motions on their part to that effect, even off duty. Yours show no such indication.”

She nodded. “Go on.”

He lowered the second finger, leaving his index, which he pointed to her. “Therefore, your primary duties…are in the Communications department of your division. Your main duties: sending and receiving communiqués with agents on the ground, language and code translation…and, in many instances, com-tapping. Your considerable skill at the latter two is a major element in what led your superiors to judge you worthy of beginning field work.”

He spread out his hands. “Am I correct?”

Her eyes widened. “You…”

Bashir felt his smile widen into a grin. “I thought so.”

She gave that pleasant, musical laugh again. “Well…you’ve certainly impressed me, Dr. Bashir!”

“I’m certainly glad of that, Miss Holland.”

They stared at each other once again, smiling. Bashir took the initiative to speak once again.

“Tell, me…do you have any previous engagements? Tonight, I mean.”

“Tonight?” She looked off for a moment, as if going over her schedule in her mind. “Why…no, I don’t.”

“Splendid. Would you care for our…traveling around this part of Risa, looking for whatever strikes our fancy?”

She smiled, her eyes speaking of endless possibilities. “I would love that.”

“Dinner afterwards, perhaps?”

“It sounds…tempting….”

“1700, then?”

She chuckled. “Doctor, we’re on leave! You say ‘Five in the evening’.”

Bashir shrugged. “Old habits. Now…will that be appropriate?”

“Of course.”

“Splendid. Now…my rooms are in the Resort of the—”

“Would you agree to…come to my rooms, instead?”

Bashir raised an eyebrow. “Oh…?”

“I have some…work I’ve brought along, which needs finishing. I’d prefer to do so as soon as possible, and—”


She blinked. “Pardon?”

“It that were true…then why lounge here for so long, talking to me?”

“I was…I heard you were here, and—”

Bashir leaned towards her with a smirk. “My dear girl…do you have anything against your coming to me?”

“No, Doctor…but…”

Bashir nodded, “Then I’d suggest you get to your…‘work’, Miss Holland.”

She sighed, and nodded in resignation.

“And then…you come straight to the Resort of the Vulcan Stone.”

Her eyes widened. “That’s…where my rooms are!”

“All the better. Ninth floor, suite 973. Five in the evening—sharp.”

She nodded again. “Very good.”

“All right!” Bashir sat up. “Miss Holland…you’d better get to it. Consider it an order.”

She smiled, and rose to her feet. “Yes, sir.”

Bashir grinned. “Dismissed.”

She laughed in clear enjoyment, and left.

Julian Bashir shook his head, wondering how in the universe he had gotten so lucky. Perhaps…fate can be kind to me, after all….

* * *

ares93 July 5 2011 10:20 AM

Re: Star Trek: From Risa With Love--An Adventure Of Dr. Julian Bashir
"Perhaps…fate can be kind to me, after all…." My friend, that is a very dangerous way to think. Kind of reminds me of, "It could be worse."

Bloody great, mate! The good ol' Doc still has it in him I see. It doesn't look he's losing his touch anytime soon. Don't leave us hanging. :techman:

Rush Limborg July 5 2011 07:38 PM

Re: Star Trek: From Risa With Love--An Adventure Of Dr. Julian Bashir

ares93 wrote: (Post 5078571)
"Perhaps…fate can be kind to me, after all…." My friend, that is a very dangerous way to think. Kind of reminds me of, "It could be worse."

Well, remember that it's barely been a month or so since his relationship with Ezri just ended out of the blue. He's been in a dark place, emotionally, and as he noted in the above scene, he's hoping that this will help him recover.

Dangerous? Hmm...perhaps....


Bloody great, mate! The good ol' Doc still has it in him I see. It doesn't look he's losing his touch anytime soon. Don't leave us hanging. :techman:
No indeed! Despite how much he's been through, he's still as charming and smooth as ever. :cool:

ares93 July 5 2011 08:52 PM

Re: Star Trek: From Risa With Love--An Adventure Of Dr. Julian Bashir

Rush Limborg wrote: (Post 5079266)
Dangerous? Hmm...perhaps....

Perhaps? Mate, the guy attracts trouble more than I do!


No indeed! Despite how much he's been through, he's still as charming and smooth as ever. :cool:
The Bashir we all love! :techman:

Rush Limborg July 5 2011 09:12 PM

Re: Star Trek: From Risa With Love--An Adventure Of Dr. Julian Bashir

A brief note on "casting" (I'll make these kinds of notes on my "original" characters as the story progresses; I'm a very "visual" writer, I suppose):

The "model" I used for Miss Holland is Brigitte Bardot--of the late 1950's and early 1960's (before she lost the "kitten" look and her voice seemed to deepen).

Considering how she once starred alongside Sean Connery--along with her general celebrity at the time--I couldn't help but wonder why she'd never been cast as a Bond Girl....

The Badger July 5 2011 11:16 PM

Re: Star Trek: From Risa With Love--An Adventure Of Dr. Julian Bashir
Having successfully caught the feel of the Bond movies for the 'pre-credit' sequence, you admirably re-create Fleming's literary style for the first proper chapter. It does indeed have that travelogue feel.

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