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I, THE ENEMY  =-=-Rated PG-13-=-=  DS9 [G/B] 
  --- Copyright (c) 1995 by Sophie Masse, soma@johnabbott.qc.ca 
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PRELUDE 
=-=-=-=
 
  I want you to stop treating this like a game, where everything is  
going to turn out all right in the end. Real spies have to make hard  
choices. [...] 
                                      -- Garak [Our Man Bashir] 
   
  A real Intelligence Agent has no ego. No conscience, no remorse.  
Only a sense of professionalism. [...]    
                                      -- Garak [Our Man Bashir] 
 
* * * * *
 
** The Bajoran woman --Oh no not again-- looked up. She had several  
bruises scattered over her pale face --I had to, she was uncoopera- 
tive!-- He heard her voice, yet her lips were unmoving. It was a plea,  
a distant --Foolish Bajoran, you can't beg me-- yet compelling female  
voice which surrounded him. Her hazy silhouette moved away, but hands  
--Don't try, please don't try to run away-- his hands reached out to  
steady her. She had a haunting expression as she looked --Don't look  
at me!-- up at him. A cry, a desesperate shout that seemed to resonate  
everywhere. A baby was --Baby? Where?-- crying, yet he could not see  
the child. The woman, now faceless, scrambled --I told you not to run  
away!-- away. --I'm running after her? Let her run! She was foolish  
enough to defy you and you want to let her escape? Yes, let her run,  
don-- Beyond control, his hands --Not my hands! Yes, look at them... 
younger, smoother, but your hands...Don't!-- grabed the woman and  
twisted her neck --What have I done??-- She fell limp to the ground,  
dead. The baby cried again --Where is that child?-- Then he saw it... 
huddled in a corner, bundled up in a scarlet blanket, crying for a  
mother now dead --I had no choice!-- He was red from screaming, his  
tight little fists flailing out toward nothing --Stop crying!-- His  
small face was crumpled, his Bajoran ridges further accentuated by  
emotion --STOP CRYING I SAID!-- His own hand, now clutching a weapon,  
aimed at the baby --WILL YOU NOT STOP CRYING??-- The baby screamed.  
--Why?-- It screamed again. --Because I am Gul Garak, Officer of the  
Obsedian Order. I must obey orders...Repress foolish guilt, ridiculous  
compassion. No remorse...I have to be proffessional...-- and the trigger  
was pulled. ** 
 
* * * * * 
   
"NO!" Garak screamed, throwing away his covers as he abruptly sat up  
admist a crumpled heap of damp sheets. His usually stoic face was beaded  
by sweat, and his mouth was hung open, gaping to get as much air as  
possible. The feint cries of a baby died away as reality settled in.  
  
He held his forehead and muttered, "Deep Space Nine...yes." He remembered 
his training and took a moment to ease his breath down to it's usual cadence.  
He whiped his brow with the back of his sleeve and looked up and around with 
a look of desperation. --I really must see Doctor Bashir for a sleep remedy... 
anything to supress these dreadful nightmares.--  
  
Uneasily, he slipped out of bed, his wide frame normally so upright and 
confident now hunched by an accumulation of restless nights and poor 
nutrition. Surprisingly, the good doctor had never quite noticed the 
tailor's tray of food always left untouched at the end of their lunches. 
  
Weary, he sauntered to the washroom where he refreshed his face with two 
generous splashes of water. Earlier pale from fright and sickness, it 
momentarily retrieved some of it's healthier colors. As he dried his hands 
with a towel, he glanced up at the mirror. The image...his face --That aging 
gray face? Really, is it mine?--  was shallow and a darker gray rimmed his 
electric blue eyes. The reflection flinched. All he saw was a monster. 
  
He dismissevely walked back to the bedroom and droped his weight on the 
the edge of his bed. "Gods," he murmured, capturing his face in his hands.   
"Forgive me...or kill me." 
  
What had he done? Was he such a cruel monster? Had he murdered, tortured  
and hurt so many people in his life? Had he ever loved? --The Obsedian Order  
frowns on love and compassion, it does not endorse a loyal militant. The 
Order is your life...no it's not. Not anymore. You are a simple tailor  
working on a Federation Station, a station that was once your people's...My  
people? Was I ever so cruel? A Gul, yes I was a Gul. But did that give me the  
right to hurt so many people? No, the Obsedian Order gave me the allowance.  
They were the ones who pushed me to do those horrible things, and to feel no  
remorse afterwards. My training is gone...the teachings are fading...Is this  
guilt? Remorse surfacing? I don't like it... Intelligence Service indeed... 
they were monsters.-- 
 
=-=-=-=-=-= 
CHAPTER ONE 
-=-=-=-=-=-
  
The following afternoon, Doctor Julian Bashir sat at a table inside Quarks,  
staring at the empty chair in front of him with a frown. --Funny, I've never  
known him to be late...I wonder what's up.-- He took a sip of his juice just  
as the Ferengi owner appeared at his side. He placed a tray of food in front  
of the Doctor then frowned at what Julian was looking at.      
  
"Eating alone today, Doctor?" 
  
Julian looked up and shrugged. "Evidently so. I wasn't supposed to though.  
Have you seen Garak around?" 
  
"Oh yes. He came by this morning, very early I must add. Said something  
about leaving for a while." 
  
Bashir was taken aback. He settled his glass and looked up sharply at the  
Ferengi. "Leaving?" 
  
Quark nodded impatiently. "Something to the effect." With a smile, he  
added, "Can I get you anything else Doctor? The usual?" 
  
The Doctor frowned and whiped his mouth with his napkin. "Quark, I don't  
have a usual." 
  
"I know," he shrugged. "But it's fun to say."   
  
"No, I think I'll skip lunch for today. Sorry, but I believe I'll go pay a  
visit to our resident tailor."        
  
Quark watched as Julian walked away and sighed.  
  
"You had to go and open your big mouth, didn't you Quark?" 
 
  
Julian walked DS9's corridor with an apprehensive look pasted on his face. 
Thus, he didn't notice that he had just passed Major Kira. The Bajoran woman  
turned and frowned. She called out, "Doctor?" 
  
Julian stopped and glanced back. Kira smiled and backtracked toward Bashir.  
  
"Major?" 
  
"I just came back from the tailoring shop," she said, adopting a serious  
look. "Is everything all right with Garak? He seems less...bright and cheery  
than usual. I thought you might know something." 
  
"I don't. I was on my way to see him right now. I noticed that too, the way  
he's been acting these past several days. Something is bothering him. But  
I'm sure he'll be pleased you're concerned about him," he added with a smile.  
  
Major Kira smirked, "You tell him that and you'll be treating yourself at  
the Infirmary." 
  
Julian got a pained look. "Oh, then I'll be careful..." 
 
  
When Garak saw Julian step inside his shop, a profound look of apology  
spread his face. He dismounted the stool and contoured the dress he had been  
altering. "Oh Doctor," he said, shaking his head. "Forgive me, I hadn't  
realised..." 
  
Julian frowned. "What?" 
  
"Our lunch...I have been so focused on these alterations, I did not see the  
time pass." It was not a kind lie. Although he felt ill at ease these days  
eating with Julian, he had made it a policy not to shy away from the good 
doctor. He simply didn't feel like his old self these days. 
  
Julian waved his hand as he sat down in a customer's chair. "Forget that,  
Garak. I'm just...well, frankly, I'm concerned." 
  
The Cardassian looked sincerely confused. "Why would you feel concerned?" 
  
"Quark told me you were leaving." 
  
Garak's face darkened. Julian frowned; he had never seen his friend's  
expression so somber. 
  
"Yes...well that Ferengi does have quite a mouth on him. But I assure you,  
that is not an enough reason to feel concerned, Doctor. You of all people  
should appreciate one's desire to take in new scenery." 
  
"Oh I can appreciate it," Julian nodded. "I have even recommended it on  
several occasions in fact." 
  
Garak parted his hands. "Then what is the problem?" 
  
Julian shook his head and got up. "There's no problem, Garak. Unless of  
course there's something you're not telling me." 
  
Garak's face brightened and his blue eyes crinkled. "Why Doctor, are we  
falling back on the subject of secrets?" 
  
"I guess we are," Julian said, looking straight in the Cardassian's almond  
shaped eyes. "So tell me, what terrible secret is making you feel so glum?" 
  
Garak tossed his head and went back to work on the dress. "Go home Doctor.  
Let me go on my shore leave quietly. I've never submitted you to an  
inquisition everytime you went about your personal business." 
  
"I'm your friend. If there's something troubling you, I want to be sure  
that you know you can talk to me."  
  
"Oh, the Doctor becomes the psychologist. Quite appreciated, Doctor. But  
you can rest assured,  whatever problem you might think I have is not  
comparable with reality." 
  
Bashir let out a sigh and folded his arms. "Garak, we've known eachother  
for a while now. I'd like to think that by now, you wouldn't have any... 
restraints in opening up to me." 
  
Garak looked striken. "Doctor! What foolish idea makes you think I don't  
open up to you? Why, you're one of very few to have cought glimpses of my 
past at all. Most of my other friends know nothing of me. In fact, I would  
venture to say that you know more about me than I care to admit." 
  
"Flattered. But that won't make me stop. You obviously have something  
bothering you." He slumped his shoulder and adopted a sympathetic expression. 
"But if you want me to leave you to your brooding, that's fine. I can respect  
that..." 
  
"Really." Garak muttered, rearrenging a silken scarf over the dress' collar. 
  
"Yes, really. Just say the word." 
  
Garak looked up. His lips were thin in thought as he considered Julian. --A  
friend. Yes, Julian is my friend. The only one? No, I've made friends in the  
Order...most of them are dead, but they were once good collegues. Should I  
trust Julian? He's sincere enough in his wish to be supportive. But do I need  
him tagging along? Do I need someone to judge and lecture my every act? No,  
Julian wouldn't do that. He's a friend...-- "Tell you what, Doctor. I'm  
leaving tomorow for Bajor..." 
  
"Is that where you're going?" 
  
"Yes." 
  
"Won't that be...difficult?" 
  
"For me, or for them?" 
  
"Both, I suppose." 
  
"I see it more as a therapy..." 
  
Julian scowled. 
  
"I'll explain on the way. I trust you can detach yourself from your duties  
for a week?" 
  
Julian nodded. "I'll talk with Sisko. Are you sure about this?" 
  
--Humans are so confusing. They follow you to the ends of the world to help  
you, and when you accept their hand, they retreat and tiptoe around you,  
asking if it's really all right. I suppose it's not his fault. Genetics.--  
"I'm quite certain, Doctor. I would not offer it if I was not. My transport  
leaves at 0900 tomorow morning. Be at airlock four." 
  
Julian nodded and moved to leave. Garak waved a hand and said,  
"Incidentally Doctor, perhaps you would be kind enough to fulfill a favor for  
me..." 
  
"Anything." 
  
"If you could prescribe me some sleeping medication. I seem to be restless  
these past few nights." 
  
Julian narrowed an eye. "I'll see what I can do. But you know how I feel  
about artificially--" 
  
"Induced sleep, yes, you've told me a great many times, Doctor. I assure  
you, I would not be asking if the need was not great." 
  
"Fine. I'll bring a dose tomorow. We'll work on getting you to sleep one  
night, and we'll see for the rest." 
  
Garak smiled somptuously. "Greatly appreciated, Doctor." 
 
  
"Bajor? Garak's going on Bajor?" Kira had a hard time accepting that. But  
then, Julian had never been one to joke around. She glanced at Dax, who, as  
usual, was impassively looking on. She smiled at Kira.  
  
"Maybe it's a good thing. After all, Garak's not at all like the  
Cardassians we're used to." 
  
Kira shook her head. "Yes but, even if I can see the logic in his going, I  
don't know if the other Bajorans will feel the same way." 
  
Julian locked his hands behind his back, a gesture he'd subconsciously  
adopted ever since he'd seen Dax do it during his brief infatuation he'd 
suffered. "Garak assured me he'd make himself scarce. He only wishes to take  
in fresh air...therapy as he called it." 
  
Sisko frowned. "Therapy for what?" 
  
Julian smiled slightly. "That's what I plan on finding out." 
  
Kira turned sharply toward Julian. "You're going too?" 
  
"Yes, if you permit me Captain," he said to Sisko. 
  
"It's no problem, Doctor. But are you sure about this?" 
  
"Why is everyone asking me that? I thought my friendship with Garak was  
very clear to all. Why is it so hard to conceive that we're going on shore 
leave together?" 
  
Dax shook her head. "The fact you're accompinying him is not the surprising  
part, Julian. The fact that Garak is letting you go with him is." 
  
Julian smiled sheepishly. "Yes, well...I was rather at that surprised  
myself. But you have to understand him..." 
  
Kira turned away and studied a console. Somehow, those words angered her  
but she refused to let her emotions show. She respected Julian's friendship
with the Cardassian. Yet she felt ill at ease with him hanging around. She  
simply couldn't shake the feeling he had something to hide.  
  
Sisko saw Kira's reaction. He coughed and turned to Julian. "You can go  
Julian. I relieve you of your duties until your return. Have fun. And try 
to brighten up your friend. I'd hate to receive complaints from customers  
having been stabbed by his needles." 
  
Julian grinned. "If nothing else, Garak is proffessional. He's emphasised  
that point too many times." 
-=-=-=-=-=-
CHAPTER TWO 
-=-=-=-=-=-
  
Garak frowned and looked around the airlock. No other passengers were  
present, except Julian who, dressed in civilian smocks, arrived with a wide  
grin and a shoulder bag. Garak turned toward him and held up his hands. "A  
moment, Doctor. What is this?" he asked, gesturing the airlock door. 
  
"An airlock?" he said affably. 
  
"Oh, how very humorous Doctor. Why have you changed my schedule?" 
  
"I haven't changed anything. Sisko gave us a shuttle to travel in instead  
of transporting inside a freighter." 
  
Garak widened his eyes. He bowed his head to the side, pondering the nature  
of Sisko's act. "Well... remind me to thank the Captain. It was quite  
generous of him." 
  
Julian clasped a hand on his friend's shoulder and led him inside. "I think  
this will prove to be an interesting vacation." 
  
"To say the least," Garak said, studying his surroundings. "Are you certain  
you know how to operate this equipement? No offense, Doctor, but I somehow  
have trouble envisioning a medical officer piloting a vessel." 
  
Julian looked offended. "Garak, I'm insulted. Besides, the computer does  
most of the work." 
  
"Oh how very reassuring. I'm entrusted with a medical practicionner's  
skills at piloting a craft and a piece of machinery that has little care  
weither we crash or land. I'd say this will indeed be a very interesting  
vacation." 
  
Julian sighed. "If you want me to call for a more qualified officer..." 
  
"No no, no. If you trust your own abilities, then I shall do the same. I  
doubt you have any suicidal intentions, thus I trust you will be competent  
enough to safely transport us, if not for me than certainly for you." 
  
Bashir bowed his head. "Most gracious of you." 
  
Garak nodded and sighed as he settled in the passenger seat. He eyed the  
console with great skepticism. He had no love of computers. They were useful,  
and he possessed all the skills an Obsedian Officer should have in the area.  
But he had never possessed a great love for artificial componants. Not like  
Chief O'Brian anyway. He glanced at Julian. He was frowning at the board.  
  
Garak felt his stomach tighten. "Something wrong, Doctor?  Perhaps we should
ask an officer to--" 
  
Julian shot him a look. "Look, I've piloted a shuttle before Garak. I've  
simply never piloted _this_ one." 
  
"Oh how convenient," Garak snuffed, leaning back in his seat. 
  
"Buckle up. We're leaving." 
  
Garak glanced severely at Julian. "What, may I ask, would be the use of  
buckling up? That will do us little good while we hurl uncontrolably toward  
Bajor's surface." 
  
Julian matched Garak's gaze. Breathing out harshly, Garak mumbled a  
Cardassian curse as he snapped his belt securely. He looked back at Julian  
and widened his eyes. "There. Satisfied?" 
  
"Thank you," Bashir spat sardonically. "Ops, this is the Rio Grande asking  
permission to depart." 
  
"The way is clear, Doctor. Have a safe trip." Julian smiled at the console.  
  
"Thank you Major. We should be back in a week." 
  
"Acknowledged." 
  
Garak looked at the flickering light that signaled the end of the  
transmission and said, "I must say, I'm surprised that she's letting me go to  
her precious Bajor." 
  
Julian snorted. "Don't tell me you don't understand her feelings." 
  
Garak rolled his eyes. "Oh here we go again. You simply assume too much,  
Doctor. I was simply giving a statement of fact. Is that criminal?" 
  
"No, it's not." 
  
"I swear...it seems sometimes as if I should rattle off a series of  
explanation each time I make a remark. I know your analyctic mind has trouble  
understanding that I'm not like most Cardassians. You don't have to  
anticipate that I will make a comment with all sorts of inunendos attached to  
it." 
  
"Is that what you think?" Julian asked, turning sharply to him. 
  
"No. It's what _you_ make me believe." 
  
Julian shook his head. "You know, for a Cardassian, you're awfully  
sensitive." 
  
Garak turned his full body toward Bashir with a pained look. "Oh...well,  
_that_  surprises me. I never thought that you'd degrade yourself by  
stereotyping me Doctor. I thought you were more mature than that. If such a  
comment had been issued by Major Kira or anyone else for that matter, I would  
have understood. But frankly, it greatly surprises me to hear something of t 
he likes coming from you." 
  
"Garak, it was only a remark...why must you take everything so seriously?" 
  
"I don't...that's my problem. I've been play acting an entirily different  
caracter ever since I came on board that station. I thought that perhaps, if  
I changed my attitude, I'd be able to erase what had been my past. I find now  
that it makes the memories even more troubling. The fact that I need to  
change in order to forget..." he trailed off and looked away, searching for  
something to focuse his eyes on. Anything, the stars outside, the console 
lights flickering on and off. He simply refused to look at Julian. He frowned. 
  
"I'm sorry," Julian whispered. "And you're right. I had no right to say  
that." 
  
"Oh Doctor," he said, closing his eyes. Sweet darkness. He took a moment to  
savor the complete absence of that dreadful artifical light...sometimes, it  
made his eyes sting. He longed for those exquisite baths in the warm  
Cardassian sun..."It is I who appologise. I didn't realise my past could  
influence me so much in the way I treat you." 
  
"What do you mean?" 
  
"I don't think I need to recapitulate what the Obsedian Order is about...it  
was a dreadful organisation. I boast about it, but only because it helps me  
forget about the terrible things that were going on in there." 
  
Julian put the shuttle in auto-pilot and turned, his full attention on  
Garak.   
  
"Being a member of the Order is a great honor. Many Cardassians in training  
have failed to make it there, yet that had never been one of my problems. I  
was a hard worker, and I'm not being vain when saying I had earned my place  
among the Obsedian Agents." 
  
"I have no doubt." 
  
"And I knew what the Service intaled. I knew, yet I was so blinded with  
arrogance and pride that I just had to join. Even today, I believe it wasn't  
a mistake. I can't say that I didn't enjoy being there...accepted and feared.  
It was a very potent feeling. But on the same token, I can't say I didn't  
feel the tinges of regret when my first orders were issued." 
  
"Which were?" 
  
Garak blinked and turned to Julian. "You'll forgive me if I omit to  
describe what they were. I don't feel I'm ready to share that with you just  
yet, Doctor." 
  
Julian nodded. 
  
"You know, there's a reason why I'm not readily accepted by Central  
Command. I am not a defector...you will never meet a more devoted Cardassian  
than I. Yet they feel I have betrayed them. Perhaps that tinge of regret I  
felt... perhaps it wasn't so small after all...maybe my fellow collegues felt  
it as well." He slumped his shoulder and sighed. "I've always found it rather  
difficult to face people whom do not accept me. I've always made it a policy  
to try and make allies of everyone I met. It was one of the most basic rules  
of the Obsidian Orders... If the alternative is making an enemy, then make  
an ally." 
  
"Reasonable rule." 
  
"Reasonable, but terribly difficult to uphold. It might not be so hard for  
your people, Julian. But for mine," he sighed. "Cardassians can be very  
stubborn you know." 
  
Julian twitched his mouth in an involontary smile. "Oh I know." 
  
Garak looked sideways and narrowed an eye. "Yes, I suppose you would at  
that." 
   
  
Kira paced her quaters, fists curled and face crumpled. Opposite her sat a  
very calm and collect Gul Dukat. 
  
"Major, you have been pacing in front of me for half an hour without once  
telling me the nature of your calling. Now I don't know if you're aware of  
this or not, but I do have responsibilities to the Central Command." 
  
"I'm worried. I felt the need to talk to you, as this concerns the  
Cardassian Empire." 
  
Dukat raised his bony brow. "Indeed. Then please share..."  
  
"You know Garak..." 
  
Dukat sneered. "All too well I'm afraid." 
  
"He's going to Bajor." 
  
Dukat crossed his legs and let out a sigh. "And? Is this what concerns you  
Major? I'm afraid I don't see how you can feel this is of any importance to 
me." 
  
"I want to know what he did in the Obsedian Order. I want to know, for the  
safety of my people." 
  
Dukat laughed. "Major, do you seriously believe Garak would harm any of  
your people? He's foolish, but I doubt he's that foolish." 
  
Major Kira shook her head and sat down. "That's not what I meant either..." 
  
"Then what *do* you mean, Major?" Dukat said impatiently. "Please, I have  
better things to do than worry about an exiled Cardassian." 
  
"Garak's been a mystery ever since he stepped foot on this station. If you  
know anything about him... something that might be important, I'd appreciate 
it if you'd tell me." 
  
Dukat smirked. "Why don't you ask him yourself?" 
  
"Because he won't say anything!" she exploded, getting up abrubtly. Dukat  
followed her with as much nonchalance that was possible. "He won't  discuss  
his past with any of us, even his closest friends..." 
  
"Which doesn't include you...right?" 
  
"Yes. But that's not the point." 
  
"Is it, Major? It seems to me you're more frustrated with the fact he never  
approached you as a friend than for the safety of your station. We both know  
Garak poses no threat to DS9."  
  
"I wouldn't be too sure on that." 
  
"Oh? And what makes you think anything to the contrary?" 
  
Major Kira pursed her lips. "All right, so I'm mad he never told me  
anything. But not in the way you think. I'm responsible for this station. I  
like to be aware of all the personel's backgrounds..." 
  
"But Garak isn't one of your officers, is he?" 
  
"No. But he meddles his nose enough to make himself important. Too  
important for me to look the other way." 
  
Dukat stood and moved toward Kira. "You mean he makes you nervous. Please  
Major, I would deeply appreciate it if you'd stop talking in double meaning." 
  
"Yes, he makes me nervous," she admitted, her dark eyes on Dukat. "And I  
don't like being nervous about someone. My instincts are usually right." 
  
Dukat sighed and waved a hand. "Ah yes, the Occupation. Because of that,  
you now see yourself as a pretty good judge of Cardassian psychology,  
correct?" He stopped at a replicator and thinned his lips. "Computer,  
Cardassian ale." 
  
A beverage shimmered into existence and Dukat took it with a smile. He  
extended the glass toward Kira and tilted his head. "I'm sure you don't mind  
if I make myself at home..." 
  
"Dukat..." 
  
His eyes narrowed. "*Gul* Dukat, Major. I haven't lost respect for your  
title, please don't do so for me." 
  
"This is ridiculous..." she fumed, folding her arms. 
  
"I agree," he nodded, taking a sip of his drink. "But I'm not the one who  
called me to ask me over here." 
  
"Do you know anything about Garak, or not?" 
  
Dukat gave her one of his enigmatic smiles as he went over to take his  
seat. He leaned his lean frame on the sofa and looked at Kira from under a  
low brow. "All I know is that he was a Gul in the Obsedian Order. A very good  
one, if I'm to judge his dossier. He spent three years before his official  
enrollement doing odd errands for the Order during the Occupation, and I'm  
told he took a love for the Organisation..." 
  
"That figures," Kira muttered. 
  
Dukat sighed. "Do you want this information or not?" 
  
"Go on." 
  
"When he was made a member of the Order, his first assignement took him  
inside one of Bajor's political camps. His orders were simple... eliminate  
everyone." 
  
Kira felt her knees weaken and she sat down, her lips quivering. Dukat  
parted his hands, one still holding on to his drink. "You wanted to know, I'm  
telling you." He took a sip and licked his lips before pursuing. "He had just 
been made Gul. His ego was fragile. If he refused this first assignement, he  
would have been thrown out of the Order, or perhaps subjected to a much worst  
fate. In any case, he did not protest. He did follow up on his orders, along  
with two other Guls..." 
  
"Their murders served no purpose..." Kira whispered. "They were meant to  
serve as a test of loyalty...target practice..." 
  
"Yes, I can see how you might view it as such. But the deed has been  
done--" 
  
"Oh deed. Nice way of putting it." 
  
"Major, I did not ask for a lecture on my people's ethics. I'm simply  
relaying the bit of information I do have on your friend." 
  
Kira curled her lips. "Friend? You call that monster my friend? After what  
he's done?" 
  
Dukat sighed. "As much as I dislike his very existence, I would hate to be  
the catalyst to any harmful feelings between the two of you." 
  
"I never liked him," she spat. "Along with all the others like him." 
  
Dukat leaned foward and made of prayer with his hands. "You mean others as  
in Cardassian?" 
  
"No...others like him, the ones who killed without mercy--" 
  
Dukat held up a finguer. "Ah, but your dear local tailor *does* have mercy,  
Major. A lot more than necessary for a cardassian of his importance. In fact,  
it was this which made him quit the Order. Quit under not so joyous  
circumstances, but quit nonetheless. He's thrown away his whole reputation,  
and even his life, to make a point. I remember him being very furious about  
the whole Cardassian government at the end of his career. He was striped of  
his title, his reputation and any chance of a life on Cardassia. I think that  
makes him more your style than even I,  Major." 
  
Kira shook her head. "Then why does he keep it all a secret?" 
  
"Wouldn't you?" Dukat tsked and stood. "If I were in his shoes, I too would  
be terribly embarassed to reveal that part of my life. I find that I would  
discuss this with only a number of selective friends... 
=-=-=-=-=-=-= 
CHAPTER THREE 
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
  
Garak layed back in his chair and sighed. Julian glanced at him and smiled.  
"We're almost there, friend." 
  
The Cardassian frowned and smiled at the same time. "Now there's something  
new, Doctor." 
  
"What?" 
  
"You calling me a friend." 
  
"I'm surprised you find this surprising." 
  
"Oh not surprising..." he laughed. "Simply unexpected." 
  
Julian raised his eyebrows. "Really?" 
  
Garak sighed again, settling his bulky weight in the chair. "You know, I  
never liked these shuttle accomodations. They're so uncomfortable." 
  
Julian grinned. Of course, only a Cardassian and a Klingon would find plush  
stuffed chairs uncomfortable.  
  
"I can get you a slab of metal if you want," he said with a taunting smile. 
  
"Oh no need, Doctor. I'll make do with what I have." 
  
He shifted again, then exhaled loudly in desperation. "I believe I shall  
spend the remainder of this voyage sleeping." He glanced quickly at Bashir  
and held up his palm, "No offense to you, Doctor." 
  
Julian blinked. "None taken. You should probably get some rest. Bajoran  
time is unlike that of the Station. You'll get space lag if you don't sleep  
anyway." 
  
Garak widened his eyes at the Doctor as he passed beside him to reach the  
back. "What an interesting term. I shall have to ask you how that came  
about." 
  
"Remind me to tell you some time." 
  
"I will. I will. Good night Julian." 
  
"Now *there's* something unexpected." 
  
Garak peeked back inside the pilot cabin. "What is?" 
  
Bashir smiled. "You calling me Julian." 
 
  
The rest of the trip went about uneventfully. The shuttle had slowely  
glided through space, not disturbing it's occupants inside. Julian had  
inputed a direct course to Bajor, and instructed the computer to alert him of  
the slightest oddity. He had leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.  
When he opened them again, the computer was bleeping. He frowned and looked  
at his board. They had arrived. "Well that was fast," he mumbled under his  
breath. He brushed his hands over panels, and a voice arose, "Federation  
Shuttle, this is Bajor. Do you need any assistance for docking?" 
  
"No, everything is fine. Thank you." 
  
"Understood. Destination?" 
  
Julian opened his mouth, yet nothing came out. He widened his eyes. "Stand  
by, please." He turned around and glanced at the back compartement. Garak was  
sound asleep. "Garak! Wake up, we're here." 
  
The Cardassian snorted in surprise. He abruptly sat up and looked around.  
He looked bewildered to find himself in a shuttle craft. Immobile, as if any 
movement might have transformed his surroundings into something more  
terrible, Garak moved his eyes toward Julian. "Yes?" 
  
"We've arrived at Bajor. Where do you want to land?" 
  
Relieved, Garak let out the breath he'd been holding and got up. "Oh yes,  
I've chosen the provence of Keldor. From what Major Kira has said to others,  
it's supposed to be quite a beautiful land." 
  
Julian nodded and reestablised the connection with the planet. "Destination  
Keldor Provence." 
  
"Very well, I am feeding you coordinates to a landing site. How long are  
you planning on staying?" 
  
"Five days..." he said, looking at Garak for an agreement. Garak waved his  
hand and nodded. 
  
"The number in your party?" 
  
"Two." 
  
"Please transmit your personal files for security measures." 
  
Julian punched in a few commands, and soon, a visual was briskly activated.  
A Bajoran man looked up from his inspection of the files and frowned. 
  
"Dr. Bashir? Is this correct? There is a Cardassian accompanying you?" 
  
Garak scowled and got himself into viewing range. "There is. Does that pose  
a problem?" he asked affably. 
  
"Keldor Provence is a peaceful land," he frowned. 
  
"No doubt." 
  
"What are your reasons for your visit?" 
  
Bashir interjected. "Is this a requirement? I don't see why he must answer  
these personal questions. Aren't people free to visit Bajor?" 
  
"People, yes..." the Bajoran snarled.           
  
"I see. This man assumes I am not like most people," Garak nodded. He  
punched in a command over Julian's console and spoke to the viewer. 
  
"This is an extension of my personal file. Everything you need to know is  
in there. Pray take your time in studying it. We will be awaiting our  
response." He reached out and deactivated the screen. 
  
Bashir had a look of disgust. "You're far more generous than I would have  
been." 
  
"Oh now, I have trouble imagining that," Garak smiled. "Beside, I prefer  
him having peace of mind rather than being harassed by his like over the  
course of our vacation." 
  
Julian nodded. "Well, let's hope he sees in you something to be trusted."    
    
  
Garak's eyes twinkled. "I would never ask that much. I don't even believe  
*I* can trust myself." 
  
"You don't advantage yourself by saying that." 
  
"Oh I know."  
           
  
Keldor Provence was a quiet, peasant lifestyle. Farmers turned their 
lands, while spouses went to the market to get food stuff and equipement. 
Garak was pleased. This was just what he needed. A nice, quiet vacation. 
After that bought with the Bajoran cultural agent, he had sighed and realised 
he would finally get that rest he sought. 
  
Upon arriving to their temporary habitat, Julian gave Garak the small 
dose to induce a profound sleep, and promptly told Garak that he should 
get some rest. The Cardassian had nodded and brushed his hand on Julian's 
arm and said, "Perhaps you would like to join me later in the evening, at 
the market place?" 
  
"I'd like that. At 1000?" 
  
Garak had nodded and left for his room. He slept for eight hours,  
profoundly and undisturbed. Yet the nightmares had resurfaced, scattering 
over the eight hours in a trail of unrelenting troubling images. 
  
Finally, when he had woken up, it had been 0950, and so decided to 
reach the market square for his meeting with Julian. As he got dressed, he 
pondered quietly if perhaps he should not tell the good Doctor of his 
true feelings for him. He wasn't even certain about them himself, but he 
was certain Julian would help him sort them out. After all, they weren't 
children anymore. This could be handled in an adult fashion. Garak wasn't  
one to get embarassed easily. If he felt something, he proclaimed it. But 
he had to be careful. Human feelings were not the same as Cardassian's. If 
he wished to keep his friendship with Julian intact, perhaps a tactful 
approach was required. He brushed away the concerns and stepped out the 
door.  
 
  
Dukat moved to get up. Kira put her hand on his shoulder and frowned.   
"Where are you going?" 
  
The Cardassian smiled broadly. "Major, as...entertaining as this was, I 
do have business at Central Command." 
  
"You're not finished telling me about Garak." 
  
"Yes, I am. If you want more information, I will transmit it to you by 
subspace. Really Major, I don't even see why you called me here personally. 
I could have given you everything over communication channels." 
  
Shying away from the direct question, she directed one herself. "Tell me 
if I should be concerned or not!" 
  
Dukat frowned and clenched his teeth. "I've told you everything I know. 
Now please, stop tormenting both him and I. Really...I'm starting to feel 
compassion for him with you on his back." 
  
Kira recoiled with a stricken look. Dukat leaned back and tugged the top 
of his uniform. He bowed his head, "Thank you for the ale, but I must be 
going." He brushed passed her and was just at the door when he stopped and 
turned back. "If you really are concerned...don't be. Garak has done his 
share of sins, but he's hurting more today than most of the people in his 
position. He's very sensitive. If he went to Bajor, no doubt it's to make 
peace with himself, though I doubt he would ever permit himself that. I 
suggest you cease your inquisition and let him be. Believe me, he would not 
hurt anyone today." With what, he turned around and walked out.  
  
Kira watched him go, disbelief on her face. She folded her arms and 
mumbled, "Then explain why he hurt Odo you miserable piece of..." 

-=-=-=-=-=-=
CHAPTER FOUR 
-=-=-=-=-=-=

Garak leaned back and watched the people pass by. He never quite liked 
Bajorans. He wasn't certain if this rooted feeling was attributed to his time 
in the Order, or simply a result from personal feelings. He knew Julian 
himself had a resentement toward andorians, yet the doctor had never quite 
mentioned why that was. But for whatever reason, Garak promised himself not 
to let this affect amiable relations with Bajorans. He had a lot of making up 
to do.  
  
He took a sip of his drink and savored the night air. Holosuite never 
quite managed to capture the essence of fresh air...it always *felt* like 
a holosuite. To him anyways. He shifted his position, only to feel a presence 
next to him. Anticipating the doctor's early arrival, he turned, only to 
look down at a little girl. She looked up at him from under strawberry blond  
hair and bright blue eyes. Her nose ridges weren't quite formed yet. If Garak 
had taken a guess, he would have said she was about eight or nine. He smiled 
politely. "Hello there." 
  
"Hello," she said simply, swinging her legs. "Are you a Cardy?"    
  
Garak felt a painful twinge in his stomach. If anything, polluting  
children's mind was a disgusting aspect of society. He didn't mind remarks 
from adults who understood the meaning, but for children to be implanted with 
ideas without so much thinking about it themselves made him cry. 
  
"I'm a Cardassian," he corrected. 
  
"My mother tells me Cardies are evil." 
  
"Really? I'd like to meet your mother," he muttered, sqeezing his drink to 
his lips. He swallowed and said, "Did you ever meet an evil Cardassian 
before?" 
  
"No." 
  
"Then how can you know they are evil if you never saw one?" 
  
"Cuz my mother told me." 
  
Garak sighed. Evidently, this was useless. He reached for his pocket and  
retrieved two pieces of currency. He handed them to the little girl and  
pushed at her back. "Here, go and buy yourself something nice." 
  
She brightened up, and threw her arms around the Cardassian's wide neck. 
"Thank you Mister." 
  
"It's nothing," he said, feeling uncomfortable. "Now run along." 
  
She ran away and joined a woman who had had her back turned to them. When 
the little girl tugged at the woman's dress, she showed her the money. 
Garak narrowed his eyes at the exchange, but was distracted by Julian, who 
had just arrived. Remarkably, the Doctor looked quite handsome in his silk 
shirt and black form fitted pants. Garak cleared his throat and smiled. 
  
"I trust you had a nice, rested sleep?" 
  
Garak nodded. "Why yes, thank you. I was in great need." 
  
Julian sat down next to him and looked at the market place. He smiled at 
the people who passed them. They sat in silence until Garak turned and said, 
"Julian...I have something to tell you. Now bear with me, this is never 
easy." He opened his mouth again, but a female voice interrupted them. They 
both turned and Garak recognised the woman the little girl had ran to. She 
wore a severe look, and the little girl sniffed, sobering up from a cry. 
  
"Excuse me," she said sternly. "But I don't need your kind giving my 
daughter money." She threw the coins on Garak's lap and added, "If you  
think you can buy our children off for what your kind did, you're seriously 
mistaken." 
  
Julian stood up. "Madam, I don't--" 
  
Garak grabed Bashir's arm and pulled him down. "It's all right, Doctor. 
Madam, my appologies if you took my intentions the wrong way." 
  
She harumphed and turned around, grasping her daughter's hand. They both 
heard the mother scold the daughter, instructing her never to approach a  
Cardy again. Garak sighed and empocketed the money. 
  
"Garak, how can you accept these people's scorn so lightly? I mean, don't 
you get furious when somebody says something like that?" 
  
Garak gave him a tragic smile. "Ah Doctor, if you truly knew me, you 
would understand that I deserve much less in the way they treat me." He 
got up and moved to leave, but Julian held him. "What was it you wanted 
to tell me?" 
  
He looked down sadly and shook his head. "Never mind. I don't...I don't 
think I deserve what I would have asked of you. In any case, I don't think 
you would have felt the same way." He detached himself from him and walked 
off, his silhouette gleaming in the pale moonlight. Julian frowned and 
wondered what that had been about. 
 
  
Julian came back to his habitat late. He had knocked on Garak's door, but 
when no one answered, he assumed the Cardassian was sleeping soundly. Sighing, 
and not knowing why he felt so depressed at him not being able to talk with 
Garak about tonight, Julian turned away and went to sleep in his own room. 
As he lulled to sleep, he vowed to himself to find out what Garak had meant  
by; "[...] I don't think you would have felt the same way."  
   
  
The next evening was just as somber. Garak was sulking, but not so  
evidently that anyone else would have noticed. Garak had always been subtle,   
and Julian had learned to pick up on his friend's emotions even though they 
weren't always readily apparant. They had opted to stay at Garak's room,  
sharing a quiet supper together, courtesy of the inn. Looking across the 
table, Julian's face sparkled with the lantern's flickering light. Garak's 
eyes were averted, looking down at his supper with not so evident enthousiasm. 
His usually grayish face now danced with amber fire. "Garak? Am I such a big    
bore?" 
  
Garak was startled out of his brooding. "I beg your pardon?" 
  
Julian tilted a side of his mouth. "I hadn't realised I was so boring." 
  
The Cardassian was struck with a deep look of appology. "Oh, dear doctor, 
I'm sorry. I was simply...elsewhere." 
  
"Penny for your thoughts..." he said softly. 
  
Despite his mood, a spark of interest lighted his eyes. "Penny?" 
  
"An old saying. It was coined by the action of paying to hear what you had 
on your mind." 
  
Garak got a look of disapointement. "I hadn't realised humans were pushed 
to pay to aquire something naturally offered among friends." 
  
Julian grinned. "It's an idiom, Garak. A saying. It means nothing." 
  
The tailor nodded. 
  
"And?" 
  
"And?" 
  
"Your thoughts...what's bothering you? You don't seem to be yourself." 
  
Garak shook his head and pushed his untouched food away. "Nothing." 
  
Julian stared at him severely. "Garak, do you think I'm dumb? Don't you 
think I noticed how you don't eat, don't sleep...for god's sake, you're 
practically brooding like a small child." 
  
The tailor looked up sharply. "I didn't ask you here so you would lecture 
me, *Doctor*. If you have a rooted need to share your medical expertise with 
someone, save it. I don't need it." 
  
"But Garak...I'm your friend..." 
  
"Oh I know, you've told me a great many times. And frankly, I still have  
trouble knowing why." 
  
"What?" 
  
Garak slumped his shoulders, looking at the table miserably. "Oh Doctor. 
You can't possibly imagine what's running through my head right now." 
  
"How can I? I'm not a Betazoid, and you won't tell me." 
  
The tailor looked up, staring at those delicious eyes for the umpteenth time. 
How he wished he could spill it out...proclaiming his feelings to the good 
Doctor who had been the only one to extend a friendly hand when no one would. 
He sighed deep within his soul. "If I told you, I would scare you away." 
  
"That's a terrible thing to say. I can't imagine anything you can say which 
would make me go away." 
  
Garak bowed his head. "I'm...I'm afraid."  
  
Julian leaned back with raised eyebrows. "There's something unexpected.  
Afraid of what?" 
  
"I'm afraid you'll reject me." 
  
Suspecting some terrible secret the Cardassian had never shared, Julian 
leaned foward again and snaked his hand across the table. He encompassed  
Garak's hand and caressed it lovingly. "I'm here, Garak. Whatever happens." 
  
"Julian..." he took a deep breath, and released it sharply, "I love you." 
  
Bashir froze. He frowned and stared at Garak with nothing he could think to 
say. Finally, he parted his lips, and his own tumultuous feelings finally 
focused; suddenly, everything seemed clear. "I think I do too..." 
  
Garak's face illuminated. Somehow, this hadn't been the reaction he had 
expected. A punch in the face, an abrubt departure, a mumbled appology along 
with a denial of the sort, this he had anticipated. Excited, Garak smiled.  
For some reason, the troubles of past days didn't seem all that terrible. 
  
"Doctor, I hardly know what to say..." 
  
They both got up and Julian smiled brightly as he pulled the Cardassian to  
him. "Then say nothing. After all, the evening isn't quite over yet..." And  
indeed, it was not. 
  
When the evening had stretched into the night, the two had shared an  
intimate encounter which both were not prepared to forget. They had shared 
passion and mutual pleasure, yet eventually, exhaustion cought up with them, 
and Julian collapsed on Garak's firm chest, a look of deep contentement on his 
face. He rose his eyebrows and smiled, "I had no idea how...energetic you 
were."  
  
Yet only silence rewarded the doctor. Julian frowned against the Cardassian's 
skin. "Garak?" He looked up and saw something that broke his heart. Garak 
had turned his face away as if in shame, and unbidden tears fell away from 
his clear blue eyes. Julian pinched his chin and turned his head to face  
his. "What's wrong?" 
  
Garak stared at Julian's hazel eyes, seeing deep into the doctor's soul. 
"You are so good to me, Doctor. It seems...unfair to you to waste your 
time with me." He reached his hand to caress Bashir's cheek and smiled 
tragically. "I don't deserve it...I..." he shook his head, and his pain 
doubled. 
  Julian sat up on the floor and pulled the Cardassian toward him, placing 
his head on his lap. He rocked gently with him while Garak shed his tears. 
Julian was touched, for not only did Garak once again broke the barriers 
between them by opening up, the doctor felt that his friend had showed him  
his most vulnerable side. He pressed his chin over Garak's forehead and  
simply held him tightly while Garak cried silently. No sobs, no chuckles,  
just a quiet rolling of tears. "I'm here," Julian whispered. This made the  
Cardassian tighten his grip over Julian's arm, a gesture that meant to say  
thank you. 
  
And as Garak slowely sobered, Julian combed his hand through the tailor's  
sleek raven hair and laid back. Garak shifted position, and like a baby,  
placed his head on Julian's chest. With a choked voice, he murmured, "I truly  
love you, dear Julian..." and mercifully, he fell into a profound, undisturbed
sleep.  From then on, the nightmares never came again. 
 
THE END 
 
"Another casualty in the struggle for democracy."  -- Lucien LaCroix 
       
--
Return Address: soma@johnabbott.qc.ca
Standard disclaimer: The views of this writer are strictly their own.