Part Two of the WAR ARC CONSEQUENCES Premise. WHERE ANGELS FEAR TO TREAD by BGM ------------------------------------------------------------ The Remembrance Ceremony was supposed to be Cardassian. Pointedly so. In result, very few people came to attend the event outside the tight circle of friends and acquaintances. Garak waded through small crowd gathered within the conference room toward the lavishly set buffet table. Sisko had been gracious enough to offer some of his Cajun cuisine for the occasion, along with a few other servings of Terran foods. Oddly enough, his close friend Bashir stayed deliberately away from what Sisko had called 'beans'. Mixed with these tame-tasting foods, there was also a vast quantity of Cardassian plates scattered here and there over the grand table, and enough kanar to numb Garak's heart. At the moment it was the only thing that mattered. "Who wants more Jambalaya?" *This isn't a Remembrance Ceremony. It's a mockery of it. Look at them, smiling and celebrating. This is a time of mourning. Are Humans so uncaring that they cheer one's passing to the Great Beyond? Then again, Ziyal was also Bajoran ... she had more friends amongst Humans and Bajorans than--* A touch on his shoulder, and the Cardassian's thoughts were interrupted. "Garak, here ... I ... thought I could offer this for Ziyal's travels to the ... Great Beyond." There was hesitation in the young man's voice, naturally, since he was dealing with beliefs he knew nothing about. Garak smiled indulgently at Julian, and looked down to what the doctor was proffering. "She ... loved plants. And ... I've had this little guy for some time now, ever since Jadzia gave it to me when I figured out how to keep it alive." Julian smiled and slipped the Ledonian plant into Garak's hands. "I figured she'd need some material to draw, if ever there's no plants in the Great Beyond," he said, his smile widening into one of undiluted affection. Touched, Garak simply nodded, then looked up. "She'll be ... grateful," he said awkwardly, then with a light scowl, he walked away to place the gift at its proper place; over the glass sarcophagus that held Tora Ziyal. Another sacrilege of his people's beliefs ... to let others view the Rested Dead, to let them intrude upon their endless sleep like some twisted voyeur. And yet here he was, staring at her, again mixing with his 'fellow friends' who were slowly dragging -- no, not even dragging, 'escorting' him away from his heritage. With the help of cryogenesis, Ziyal's body was beautifully intact. No scarring whatsoever, even the wound had been tidied up. She looked at peace ... almost sleeping. He blinked and broke his stare once more before focusing on the items lain over the coffin. Kira's Bajoran earring gleamed in the bright light overhead, and he quickly moved on to another offering. A Bat'Leth from Worf, who had deemed her courageous to oppose her father in the circumstances of war and thought she would need a warrior's sword to now oppose the dangers of the Great Beyond. Garak had to smile at the thought. From Dax, an intricate and quite valuable hair brooch. From Julian, the plant, from Quark an expensive bottle of kanar -- Garak had been quite impressed -- and from Sisko ... Garak had finally been repulsed. From Sisko laid an insignia. A *Starfleet* insignia. Garak turned abruptly on his heels and yelled, "She was NOT Starfleet! What is this obsession ... this *drive* to make certain that everyone eventually succumbs to the will of the Federation?" His features were pale; his eyes were haunted ... anyone with a year of medical practice would have associated the signs with delirium. The room fell silent and stared in shock at the Cardassian, some whispering faintly to each other and shaking their heads over their drinks. Garak stared back at them, and slowly began to realize what he'd just done. He glanced to Julian, who looked like he wanted to come forth but was afraid, then to the crew ... he reached up and rubbed his forehead before murmuring, "I ... apologize. These have been ... stressful times. I ..." He looked to them again, then simply walked out. --------------------------------------------------------------- Julian Bashir entered Garak's quarters right after the second unanswered chime. He stood in the entrance, his features positively anxious in the darkened light of the Cardassian's room. "Garak?" There was a pause, a stillness in which Julian remained breathless and listened to the disquiet thump of his own heart. Then ... "Leave me alone, Doctor." "Garak, I'm *worried* for you ... ever since we came back you've been acting ... well, you *haven't* been acting like yourself. I only want to help you, if I can ..." he paused, his eyes darting to every shadowed corner. "If you'll let me ..." he added quietly. As a young boy, the Bashir family had possessed a cat named Edison. A small Siamese feline that had somewhat kept to himself. Julian had adored the cat like his own teddy, until one night; at 7 years old he had crept downstairs, clutching Koukalaka in his arms, having been roused by a nightmare. Thinking his parents might still be up, he'd stumbled in his pajamas down the winding staircase, across the hall, into the kitchen, only then to realize he was in complete darkness. It was then little Bashir screamed, spooked and terrified by the two small orbs of light that sliced the darkness of the kitchen. Moving toward him with those devil eyes, Bashir had screamed and screamed until light flooded the kitchen and his parents made him realize it had only been Edison. Julian hadn't thought of that memory in ages, only now did it resurface as he watched those same orbs slice a darkened corner. Bigger orbs, smooth lighted spheres that occasionally cloaked with blinks or the wrong angle. Julian had never realized Cardassians had such feline eyes until now. He had to compose himself before looking directly into those orbs. *Do you *see* me, I wonder ...* "You have no idea what I'm feeling right now Doctor. It's best I don't ... annoy you in trying to explain it either ..." *Oh Allah, Garak, annoy me ...* There was a sigh, then footfalls, as those orbs grew closer. Finally the slit of light from the corridor spoiled the effect, and Julian could finally perceive the Cardassian's silhouette against the backdrop of black. "I want to help you ..." Julian repeated, hoping he sounded convincing enough, hoping he could be a savior once more to his beloved friend. "Not this time," Garak replied, and there was an odd sinking in Julian's chest as he realized how deeply Garak affected him just by his pain. "No Doctor, you can't help me." "Then who?" Julian's voice rose in pitch with his desperation. He didn't care. All he wanted was to hold Garak's trust. He never had it ... and he realized tonight that he never would. Oddly enough, Garak's breathing sounded closer ... and it took everything in Julian's power not to jump when he felt a cool hand on his cheek, and lips at his opposite ear. "Me ..." he whispered. "Good night Doctor." The hand was gone, the voice again at a distance. Had he dreamed it? Some bizarre hallucination? "Garak ... don't keep me in the dark ... please ..." "Very well. Computer, lights." Brightness filled the room, and Julian had the time to notice the flinch that lifted the Cardassian's features. Julian then realized what a fool he'd been to even have tried ... to have humiliated himself in an endeavor he'd known years ago would never succeed. Never again would he try to help his friend. It was just ... useless now. "Good night Garak. I won't keep you any longer." He turned and left the sterile-lit quarters, and looked back once before he disappeared behind the bend of the corridor. Garak simply stared at the closed door, then ordered lights off. He continued to stand amidst the soothing darkness, his eyes glowing with the hint of comforting light from the outside world. THE END