Elim-ination

written by Gail M. Eppers

Author's note: this takes place before "Tears of the Prophets."

Julian Bashir fingered a bolt of fabric as he waited for his friend, Garak, to close his tailor shop. Dressed in a tuxedo, he was impatient to get to the holosuite and continue his spy adventure. He could have gone alone and used the computer to provide his adversary, but it was far more fun with Garak taking the part. Bumps and dragging sounds from the back room hinted at Garak's activity. "Almost ready?" Bashir called.

"Patience, Doctor." Garak called back, "I apologize for the wait, but I need to --"

He was cut short as the bell sounded and someone entered the shop. Bashir turned, about to tell the newcomer that the shop was closed. Instead, he said, "Hello, Captain," as Benjamin Sisko walked in. "Garak's in the back putting some bolts away."

Having heard the bell, Garak emerged. "Captain! How can I help you?"

Sisko looked embarrassed, "I'm sorry, Garak, I didn't realize you were closing. Isn't it early?"

"Slightly. Business has been slow, I'm afraid. I was about to join the doctor in a holonovel," he said, explaining Bashir's presence in the shop.

"I see. Well, this can wait. I won't keep you." He moved his head to include the doctor in his next comment, "Enjoy yourselves."

Just then, Sisko's commbadge beeped. "Ops to Sisko," came Worf's baritone.

Sisko slapped his badge. "Sisko here. Go ahead."

"Captain, I'm tracking an incoming ship approaching at sublight speeds. I haven't been able to identify it, but its ETA is nine hours twenty-six minutes."

Bashir noticed Garak straightening his spine. His expression went from his merchant's casual conviviality to one of grim seriousness. After an instant, a forced smile appeared on Garak's face. "Duty calls, I see."

The captain nodded to them both and left the shop. "Well, Doctor, I'm ready. Shall we?" Garak indicated the exit.

"Just a moment." Bashir reached past Garak and blocked the door, wedging himself between the door and Garak. "What was that about?" Bashir asked.

Garak looked uneasy. "I wouldn't know."

Garak edged toward the door, making a point of having to go around Bashir, but Bashir put his hand on Garak's elbow. "That incoming ship means something to you. What is it?" Bashir tried to catch Garak's eye, but failed. Garak was avoiding eye contact.

"Really, Doctor, don't be silly. You heard Commander Worf. He can't even identify it." When Bashir didn't let go, Garak finally turned toward the doctor. "Shall I meet you in the holosuite?"

"Sit down, Garak." Bashir was growing concerned. Not only was Garak avoiding eye contact, but Bashir could feel his pulse throbbing rapidly. Garak sat on the edge of a nearby table full of cloth bolts. "Now listen, if you don't tell me what's going on, I will take my suspicions to Captain Sisko."

"That's not much of a threat, Doctor." Garak stared at the floor. "Our reservation won't be held much longer."

"Forget the holosuite! I want to know what about that ship terrifies you."

Garak straightened, "Terrifies? I'm a Cardassian."

Bashir almost laughed at Garak's unconvincing attempt at bravado. "Garak, you may be a Cardassian, but you're also my friend." He again put one hand on Garak's arm. "If you tell me what it is, maybe I can help. I want to help."

Garak finally met Bashir's eyes. "I believe you, Julian. But you can't help. It's out of our hands. Could we please go and try to enjoy the next nine hours?"

There was silence for close to a full minute. Finally, Bashir removed his hand in defeat, and Garak opened the door and stepped onto the promenade. After a brief pause, Bashir followed, and allowed Garak to lock the door behind them.

As Sisko came off the lift, Worf, Kira, and a few junior personnel all came to attention. "Report."

Dax replied. "They seem to be using some sort of rotating ID code. At this distance, there's no way to verify any of the information."

"How long before we have visual?"

"At least six hours, sir." Kira sounded frustrated. Six hours seemed like an eternity. Kira was used to getting visual contact less than an hour after long range sensors detected something. Why would they be traveling at sublight?

Sisko turned to Kira, "Are they running hot?"

Kira shook her head. "The data keep changing. They don't want us to know anything."

"Hail them."

Kira did so, but momentarily was forced to admit, "No response, sir."

Sisko stared at the screen as if he might see something, but it was still six hours before the smallest blip would appear. "Looks like a waiting game." He crossed his arms over his chest and stroked his beard as he considered the possibilities. There was no way to tell if it was an enemy warship coming in to attack, a potential ally coming to join the anti-Dominion coalition, or someone on a pleasure cruise. "Continue to monitor. When they get close enough, establish a phaser lock and call me."

"Aye, sir." Kira and Worf said in unison, as Sisko climbed the steps into his office.

The adventure didn't go well. Neither participant had his heart in it. After restarting the same scene three times because of missed cues, Bashir finally said, "Computer, end program." Immediately, the foggy London town gave way to barren sensor-covered walls.

Garak, still standing as if he held Bashir at gunpoint even though the gun had disappeared, objected. "Why did you do that?" he asked, breaking his stance.

"Garak, it's not working." Bashir explained, "Neither one of us is here. We're both out there," he gestured to indicate something far away, "on that ship. Why won't you tell me what you know?"

Garak said nothing for a moment. Then, moving toward the doorway as he spoke, "If you don't want to continue, I believe I'll go to my quarters now."

"I'll confine you for medical reasons."

Garak halted, but did not turn around. "Idle threats mean nothing to me, Doctor."

"It's not an idle threat." At that, Garak did turn around. Bashir continued, "Look, I won't tell anyone else, not even Captain Sisko. You have my word. But for my own peace of mind, please talk to me." Bashir felt that the simple act of confiding in someone would ease Garak's agitated state. "Neither of us is leaving this room until you do. There is no place more secure." To prove his point, he added, "Computer, secure this room." Now, no one could enter from Quark's. Until someone from inside called for the exit, the doorway would not open.

Garak hesitated, looking around at the bare walls. "Very well. You win." He looked for a place to sit, but found none. "Computer, two standard chairs please." Two chairs, identical to those in Quark's Bar, appeared. The two friends sat facing each other. "One week ago," Garak began, "I intercepted a communiquÉ from Cardassia Prime, from the Detapa Council to be precise. Let me rephrase that. I was led to believe that I intercepted it. It seems that since the Romulans entered the war, Cardassia has taken heavy casualties and now they need fighting men. They've released several hundred hardened criminals for that purpose. They've also rescinded all exile orders." He paused for a reaction.

Understanding flew over Bashir's face, "So you get to go home." He sounded somewhat sad, already envisioning life on the station without Garak. "I would think you'd be happy."

"Under normal circumstances, I would be. But times have changed and the situation is not as it seems. While I don't doubt that everything the communique said was true, there are two possible meanings behind it all. First, they don't really want me to come home. They need my body to block a phaser rifle. Second," he paused, indicating this possibility seemed to him to be the most likely, "they have grown uncomfortable with my presence here ... after all, I'm not a prisoner of war ... and are using the situation as an excuse to bring me back." Either way, going home meant death. Although Garak had faced death several times, he rarely volunteered for it.

"Then don't go."

Garak gave a laugh with no humor in it, "Really, Doctor, if you think it's that simple, you are naive." He got up from the chair and began to pace the deceptively small holosuite. "Of course, I'll only get to die in battle if I survive the interrogation, you see."

"Interrogation?" Bashir's eyes darkened in disgust. He had seen Cardassian interrogations, or at least the remains of them.

"They will undoubtedly question me for intelligence regarding DS9 before sending me to the front or confining me on Cardassia or whatever they plan to do with me. I have none. Therefore, I'm not likely to survive long enough to reach the front lines. And if I don't come willingly, I will be taken home in a stasis field," Garak finished.

Bashir was more than a little confused. He realized that Garak was lying about not having valuable military intelligence. What Garak really meant then was that he had none he would be willing to share with the Detapa Council. The implications of that did not comfort him. "Why would they approach so slowly? If they're in a hurry to collect you, where's the advantage in coming in at a crawl?"

"I have to admit," Garak said, "I'm not quite sure about that. Or why they don't identify themselves. But they are coming for me."

The situation sounded very grim indeed. "Surely, there's something Captain Sisko can do...."

"There isn't." He stopped his pacing and faced his chair. "You can't fight the Detapa Council."

"Don't sound so resigned. You've been fighting Central Command and the Detapa Council for six years." Bashir tried to sound encouraging.

Garak resumed pacing. "I've been avoiding the inevitable for six years, Julian. Time's up." He plopped into the chair. "Remember your word."

Sisko sat at his desk going over the sensor logs, examining the modulating signal for any sign of a pattern. Actually, it was all a very precise pattern. It rotated from Cardassian to Klingon, Romulan, Ferengi, Jem'Hadar and Federation, including some configurations that were unidentified, from battleships and cruisers to private yachts and shuttlecraft. Each configuration lasted for exactly five seconds and they always appeared in the same order. There was no hesitation or repetition that would even hint at the correct identity.

"Ops to Sisko," came Kira's voice over his combadge.

Sisko checked his chronometer. Still four hours until visual contact. He put down his dataPADD, stepped out and came down the steps to the Ops level. "Yes, Major?"

"We're picking up another ship." She told him, her fingers playing lightly over her board, "This one's Jem'Hadar, coming from Cardassia. Traveling at warp six and still three hours behind the other, but gaining. Its ETA is about an hour after the first ship."

"But it's definitely Cardassian?"

"It's the flagship. Legate Damar should be in command." Her brow furrowed to match her nose ridges. It seemed strange to say 'Damar'. Not that she would have preferred Dukat, but since his disappearance in a Starfleet shuttle, Dukat's whereabouts were unknown. It was somewhat more discomforting not knowing what Dukat was up to. She remembered an old saying Sisko had told her once: Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. She gave a half laugh. If she kept all of her enemies that close, she'd suffocate under their flesh.

"Hail them."

After a brief pause she replied, "Damar on screen."

Sisko looked up at the screen, expecting to see Weyoun hovering just inside the range of the visual pickup. The legate was alone on the screen. "Legate Damar."

"Captain Sisko."

"May I ask what business is bringing you toward DS9?"

Damar's oily Cardassian grin filled the screen. "I can't tell you specifically at this time. However, there is no need to arm weapons. We will not fire on the station." He signed off unceremoniously.

Sisko raised one eyebrow. Staring at the blank screen for a moment, he muttered, "Call Mister Garak to my office immediately." Whenever Cardassians were involved, Garak's insight was usually invaluable.

"Aye, sir." Kira replied as Sisko retreated up the steps.

Less than five minutes later, Garak timidly rang Sisko's chime. "Enter." Sisko said.

Garak came in and the door obediently slid shut behind him. "You called for me, Captain."

"Have a seat." Sisko indicated a chair in front of his desk, and Garak sat looking considerably less than comfortable. "I'm not sure if you are aware of it, but there is a Jem'Hadar ship approaching this station," he said as he leaned against the front of the desk.

"You've identified it?" Garak seemed surprised.

"Identified...no." Sisko was caught off guard, but recovered quickly. "Do you have reason to believe that the unidentified ship is also Cardassian?"

Garak looked as if he'd been hit with a brick and remained silent.

"All right," Sisko said calmly. "Let's clarify matters. There is an unidentified ship four hours away. There is also a Jem'Hadar battle cruiser under the command of Legate Damar approaching at warp six, due to arrive an hour later. Damar was less than enlightening. Perhaps you could tell me if I should be ordering battlestations?"

Sisko didn't think Garak had ever spoken softer. "I don't believe battlestations will be necessary, Captain."

Captain Sisko rose, moved behind the desk and sat officiously in his chair. "And why do you believe that?"

"Because they are coming to get me. And I'm prepared to go willingly."

That was not the answer Sisko was expecting. "Garak?"

Having unburdened himself to Bashir, it was slightly easier, though no less frightening, for Garak to continue. He explained much the same way he had to Bashir. When he had finished, he added, "My apologies for the disruption, Captain."

"Garak, why wouldn't Damar tell us this? And who is in the unidentified ship?"

"I suppose he doesn't want to give me a chance to escape. He's probably not aware that I know of his intentions. As for the second question....I really don't know. Perhaps it has nothing to do with this."

Sisko steepled his fingers in front of him and pressed his lips against them, thinking. "Do you want to go with them?"

"Under these circumstances, no, Captain." What an irony, he thought. All these years, despite the friendships he'd formed, he would have jumped at the chance to return to Cardassia. But now, when they had opened the door for him at last, he wanted nothing more than to push it closed again and lock it. It had always been in the back of his mind that the only way he would go back would be to face his death, but he had hoped, nonetheless, for a political reconciliation with the Obsidian Order. Not that he wanted a hero's welcome, of course. Just a safe welcome would be sufficient. Instead, he was going to be dragged under armed guard and bribed with false promises of such a safe welcome.

"Then you will not go." Sisko stated.

"Sir, with all due respect, I'm not Starfleet. You can't protect me from my own people."

Sisko had to smile at Garak's humility. "Garak, Starfleet isn't an exclusive club. We don't just help our own. We help whoever needs it."

"How?" Garak could not imagine any way of resolving this situation that would leave him in one piece.

Sisko pursed his lips, "I'm not sure yet. We won't have all the facts until we find out who's on that unidentified ship. It may not be related, but I have a feeling that it is. If we have to, we can secure you in the brig for as long as it takes."

"As much as I want to stay here, Captain, I certainly hope it doesn't come to that." Garak quipped. Federation brigs were luxurious compared to other holding facilities he'd been in, but it was still a jail cell. He got up and went to the doorway, turning around before the door activated, "And, Captain, no matter how this turns out...I appreciate your efforts."

"You're welcome, Garak. Next time, don't be afraid to ask for help."

"Next time?" Garak gave a half smile, which was returned by Sisko, before stepping out the door.

"Told you so." Bashir couldn't resist teasing his Cardassian friend. He also hoped that the childish nature of the taunt would put Garak more at ease, for despite Sisko's assurances he could still see a degree of agitation in Garak's attitude. He couldn't blame him, really. His very life was hanging in the air, his future, if any, as uncertain as...as the nature of the native delicacy Garak held on his plate. As they took their seats at the replimat, Bashir couldn't help but wonder why so many Cardassian entrees involved mobile food. Klingon cuisine did as well, but in that case it was live animals. This didn't seem like a live animal, but more of a very thick, chunky stew with a small whirlpool in the middle. "Um...what is that?"

Garak looked innocently at his dish. "Excuse me, Doctor?"

"It's...moving." Bashir said, unable to hide the disgust from his face. He took a second look at his chicken sandwich, as if he expected it to crawl away.

"Oh, that." Garak laughed, and it was pure joy to Bashir to see the grin on his friend's face. "That's the automatic stirbowl."

"Automatic stirbowl?" Bashir had never heard of such a thing.

"This particular Cardassian stew," Garak explained, "must be stirred constantly or it solidifies like concrete. Our digestive juices take care of that afterwards, but even while it's being eaten, it's quite possible that you couldn't lift the spoon if it wasn't stirring."

"Not a very practical dish, then, is it?" Now that he knew it was just the bowl, he happily took a large bite of his sandwich.

"It was a campfire favorite, actually. One would stir while the other ate, and vice versa." Bashir had trouble picturing a group of Cardassians around a campfire, roasting whatever was their version of marshmallows. "It gave the lookout something to do."

"The lookout?"

"For wild animals. Particularly snakes."

Bashir felt like all he could do was repeat what Garak said as a question. "Snakes?"

"Snakes. Have you ever seen a Cardassian snake, Doctor?"

"No, can't say that I have."

"The average Cardassian snake," Garak explained, "would make your Earth anaconda resemble one of those 'french fries' you're eating." He paused for a beat, just long enough for Bashir to take a second look at the fries while the image floated across his mind. "Not to mention that they can swallow a grown Cardassian in full body armor in fourteen seconds."

Bashir sat his sandwich back on the plate, nearly choking on the bite he was chewing. "Really?" His appetite fading, he sipped his raktajino to clear his palate.

"Oh, yes, Doctor. I've timed it myself actually. In the old days, it was used as a form of execution." He scooped a spoonful of stew into his mouth in one smooth motion, making sure to lick the spoon clean quickly. "It lost its popularity, unfortunately. Too quick."

"Pity." Bashir replied.

Garak dropped the spoon by his plate, suddenly realizing the topic of conversation was hitting a little too close to home. "Oh, dear." Maybe they wouldn't put him in a snake pit, but there were a plethora of other means equally deadly and more painful.

"Now, Garak, stop it." Bashir said, recognizing the reason behind his friend's sudden loss of appetite. "Don't even think that. It's not going to happen."

Garak's gaze slipped inward, "Of course it isn't."

"Coming into visual range, Captain," Kira said. She paused, adjusting her instruments and staring at the screen. "Sir?" She added, confused.

"Major?" Sisko stepped closer to her Ops station and followed her gaze.

"Visual sensors are inconclusive." Together, they looked at the viewscreen. "Maximum magnification." A tiny ship appeared in the center of the screen. For a few seconds, it looked like a Federation shuttlecraft. Then it morphed and became a Ferengi Marauder. It continued to morph, cycling just as the subspace ID signal had. "How can they --?"

Dax worked her board furiously, but kept shaking her head. "I don't understand. In order to fool visual sensors, they'd not only have to modulate their ID signal, but their shield harmonics and ion signature as well. I've never heard of any equipment with that capability."

Sisko pushed his combadge, "Ops to Chief O'Brien."

"Yes, sir?"

"Report to Ops. There's something I'd like you to see."

"Aye, sir."

O'Brien jumped off the turbolift moments later, already staring at the viewscreen. If the captain said there was something to see, chances were very good that it would be on screen. He stood next to Sisko and watched the morphing continue for a few moments, then stepped over to his engineering console. "Sensors check out." He shook his head, stumped. "I can't explain that, Captain." He consulted with Dax, but Sisko knew from the looks on their faces that no answers were forthcoming.

"Any response to hails, Major?"

"No, sir." Kira had been sending hails on a regular basis as per Sisko's orders, but it was apparent they were being ignored. She glanced up at the screen and then at her instruments. "Something's happening." The tiny ship on screen seemed to split into two unequal parts and for a moment, the readings had stabilized, indicating a small Cardassian ship, then the morphing resumed. "Captain, they launched a shuttlecraft. The shuttlecraft is Federation?" She swirled her head back toward Sisko, "Sir, it's one that was registered to the Honshu. The shuttle Dukat stole." She turned back to her instrument board, "He's approaching at warp 1, and hailing us." If Bajorans had hackles, hers would have pierced the ceiling.

Sisko's breath came shallow, "On screen."

Dukat's familiar face filled the screen, looking sickeningly out of place against the backdrop of the Federation shuttle interior. "Captain Sisko, are you aware of the Cardassian ship approaching the station?"

"Of course, but Legate Damar hasn't stated his business yet." That wasn't saying they didn't know his business, of course, just that they hadn't heard it from Damar.

"I'll state it for you. He's coming to get Garak."

Sisko motioned to Kira, who understood immediately to call Garak to Ops. "And what is your business?"

"Saving his life, Captain Sisko. Is that worth something to you?"

"I'm afraid I don't understand. I thought you hated Garak. Whatever your intentions, I'd like to know why you approached with an unidentifiable signal." If Dukat didn't have a satisfactory answer to that he would arm weapons and lock onto that shuttlecraft. Something about this situation didn't feel right to him. He wished he had the luxury of time to figure it out. It really came down to the relationship between Dukat and Garak, and all Sisko knew was that they had a history together. Probably a violent one, but details had been hard to come by. Given his own history with Dukat, it was difficult to take the former gul at his word. In fact, if not for his Federation oath, and with just a little provocation, Sisko felt he could destroy that shuttle without guilt. There had been a time when Sisko considered Dukat to be truly evil, but the feeling was fleeting, for Sisko also knew his own heart, and he was not a vengeful man. He was, however, wary about Dukat, who may not be truly evil, but was nevertheless a dangerous man.

Dukat laughed as if the solution to Sisko's question was obvious. "This ship isn't equipped with cloaking technology. And I'm not very popular in this sector, Captain. An unidentifiable ship people may get curious about, but tend to ignore unless it makes an attack overture. Let bygones be bygones, as you humans say. But an identified enemy ship they shoot at. Even though I've come at sublight, Captain, there was no time to waste in battle before I'd even accepted my cargo."

"Cargo?"

"A figure of speech, of course, Captain. I was fortunate," he continued, "to acquire a device that allows automatic shifts through any number of normal ship outputs." Dukat gave a questioning look, wordlessly asking if Sisko was following the explanation. Sisko nodded, and Dukat continued, "It makes the ship detectable, but unidentifiable to most sensors, except at extremely close quarters. The Restitution won't need to approach the station that closely. And this shuttle is small enough to get lost in the mixed signal the Restitution is still sending to ships at any reasonable distance. Unfortunately, the device that allows us to do this also limits my speed severely. There is not much time. I can get Garak away safely in the same manner, but it has to be soon."

Sisko heard the sound of the lift and suspected that Garak had heard enough of Dukat's explanation to understand what was going on. "Why would you do that?" Garak asked.

"Garak, you know what the Detapa Council will do if you go with Damar."

"Garak isn't going with Damar. He's staying here." Sisko answered for the tailor.

Dukat took on the attitude of a frustrated adult trying fruitlessly to instruct a small child. "The council doesn't work that way. It isn't a choice." He glanced downward, apparently at a chronometer, "Damar will be in visual range within the hour. I can drop my shields long enough to transport Garak aboard."

There was a moment of silence as Sisko looked at Garak questioningly. "It's your choice, Garak."

Garak hardly looked ready to make a decision. "I...don't know." Quickly, he ran over his options. If he stayed on the station, Damar would undoubtedly attack in order to retrieve him. While the station's defenses were good, Damar's ship would have extensive offensive capabilities and could do considerable damage to equipment, crew, and unsuspecting visitors. Garak couldn't even be sure who would win such a fight. If he went with Dukat, it could be a trap. After all, they hadn't exactly been the best of friends in the past. Dukat might simply be luring Garak away to enjoy a bit of torture himself rather than letting the council have all the fun. If he went with Damar, he would most definitely be dead. Damar might not even wait until the ship returned to Cardassian space.

Finally, he turned to Sisko, "Captain, I cannot endanger you and your friends. I appreciate your kind intentions in offering me a chance to stay, but Dukat is right. Damar won't take no for an answer. Hiding me, even in the brig, will do no good." He turned to face the oval-shaped viewscreen. "I believe I will take you up on your offer." He stepped gingerly, slowly around the command table to the Ops transporter pad. "It appears to be the lesser of three evils."

Realizing it could be a long time, if ever, before he returned to DS9, he felt a pang of guilt over not taking a proper leave. But it couldn't be helped. He looked over the room at the people, all watching him with concern in their eyes, and thought of the past six years. He'd been lucky. The station could have been conquered by much worse beings. "Goodbye, Captain Sisko. Thank you for your hospitality. Give my regards to the good doctor." Then he stood, awaiting transport.

"Garak," Kira said, speaking suddenly to prevent him from leaving before hearing what she had to say and surprising herself with her own voice, "I...I don't think of you as Cardassian." She said it as if someone else were speaking.

Garak was genuinely touched. "Why, Major," he replied, his voice soft, "given your background, I do believe that is the kindest thing anyone has ever said to me!" After a moment, he again nodded at Sisko. Sisko, after a glance at Dukat on screen to verify that his shields had been dropped, nodded at O'Brien, who transported Garak to Dukat's stolen shuttle.

The shuttle quickly decelerated, came about and headed back toward the morphing image of the larger ship. The two merged together again, then the larger ship also came about and turned away.

As the shuttle landed in the bay on Dukat's ship, which was indeed of Cardassian design, Garak asked, "How did you get a ship like this anyway? You were on your own in this shuttlecraft last I heard."

Dukat shut down the shuttle engines and opened the hatch. "Renegades have a way of finding each other. Most of the people on this ship are Cardassians who left our home world just as the Dominion was taking over. They lost a lot of good friends in the process." He led Garak out the side of the shuttle and through the bay, "They found me in the shuttle about two weeks after I left Captain Sisko on that planet, and agreed to give me command. They are loyal to me, but you know how loyalty goes." Garak nodded in agreement, understanding the way loyalty worked on such a ship. It could easily be transferred to the lowest ensign if need be. "I don't presume that my command is completely stable, especially since this mission has strained it considerably." He looked Garak up and down, "You are decidedly unpopular, Garak. Not many wanted to let you on board. But it was my decision and my command." He stopped before the doorway into the rest of the ship and turned toward Garak, "I'm counting on you to help preserve it."

Dukat's tone had a sense of 'if you know what's good for you' in it.

"You trust me to do that?" If Garak understood what Dukat was asking, it seemed considerably out of character, even for Dukat. Not that it was strange for his command to be shaky, but for him to admit it ... and to ask for help in supporting it.

Dukat looked a little uncomfortable, but admitted, "Garak, I've never liked you. But I do trust you, yes."

Garak wasn't sure what to say to that. The feeling wasn't completely mutual. He'd lost the ability to trust his people long ago. "I'll do what I can," he finally replied uncertainly. If Dukat needed some sort of loyalty oath, that was the best he was going to get. Everything was happening much too fast for Garak to process his new responsibilities clearly. He wasn't quite sure what this meant; would he have to defend Dukat ... possibly to the death ... with firearms, shooting at the other crewmen, or simply set an example by following orders like a proper Cardassian? Well, he thought, I'll start with the latter.

Dukat moved into the door's sensor range and it opened on a bustling Cardassian cruiser. As they merged with the slight traffic in the corridor, Garak asked, "You said most of the people aboard are Cardassian. What about the others?" He saw only Cardassians in these corridors, most of whom saw them and gave them passing glances, none of which gave Garak a feeling of welcome. He followed Dukat, already knowing they were heading for the bridge. No doubt, Dukat wanted his command chair back as soon as possible.

"Various Dominion-oppressed races," Dukat replied, "But each individual has sworn allegiance to this ship. A Cardassian ship, Garak. Just like the old days. Not a Jem'Hadar cruiser with a Vorta breathing down our necks. The non-Cardassians represent about three percent of the crew compliment. You probably won't even see any. There are none on the bridge."

Garak was filled with questions and feared that sooner or later Dukat would refuse to answer him. "And how did you know Damar was coming for me? The message was on a secure channel. I managed to intercept --"

"I intercepted it," Dukat replied. "And allowed you to do the same." Dukat rounded a corner. "The Detapa Council is not that lax. They didn't want you to know they were coming at all."

"I see." So, Garak thought, I'm twice indebted to this man now. First for the warning, then for the rescue. It was not a comfortable feeling. Garak then noticed the feel of the ship accelerating. "What is our heading?"

"Neutral space."

Garak slowed his pace. Dukat overshot, noticed, then doubled back with a questioning look on his face. Garak asked, "And where would that be exactly?" Until recently, Romulan space would have qualified, but now the Romulans had entered the war, fighting for the Federation and the Alpha Quadrant. There would be no neutral space anywhere in the Alpha Quadrant.

Dukat hesitated, studying Garak's expression, watching him reason out his own answer. If they were indeed leaving the quadrant, he could be with Dukat a very long time.

Bashir swore under his breath as he ran down the corridors, turning corners without thinking. Jumping into the turbolift, he said "Ops" before the door even closed. He tapped his foot impatiently, feeling as if the lift was moving even slower than usual. "C'mon, c'mon," he muttered. Although he had heard Garak called to Ops, he'd been with a patient and couldn't leave. He'd finished quickly, and hurried, but he was still anxious to get there. Fear gnawed at his stomach as he anticipated an attack on the station, imagining Garak offering to go and Sisko refusing to let him, and Damar firing any minute now to persuade him otherwise. Oh, he trusted Captain Sisko to do his best to safeguard Garak, but Bashir remembered Garak's grim conviction as well. Garak was almost resigned to his fate. It could be hard to protect someone who didn't want protection. Bashir tried to calm himself, picturing Garak in Ops, civilly arguing with the Cardassian commander as Sisko observed, now and then saying something to keep the argument organized and on track. Jumping off the lift, he was prepared to join in with his own arguments. "Captain!" He noticed Garak's absence immediately, "Where's Garak?"

"He's not here."

Bashir was breathless from his run, adrenaline still coursing through his system. "Did they take him?"

Sisko seemed offended that Bashir would think that. "Doctor, didn't Garak tell you that I offered my assistance?"

"Yes, but...he's not here. Where --?"

Sisko put aside the urge to tease him any further. "He's with Dukat. Reasonably safe and on his way out of the quadrant." Or at least, that's where Sisko assumed they were going. "He beamed to Dukat's ship twenty minutes ago."

"Out of the --" Bashir repeated. Dukat --? he wondered. Deciding he could get the details later, he asked, "You let him go?"

Sisko stepped close to Bashir, placing one hand on the doctor's arm. "Doctor, it was Garak's choice. He hoped to ensure our safety."

"Against what?" Bashir asked.

"Against that." Sisko replied, pointing to the viewscreen.

Bashir turned to look, and the sick feeling in his stomach returned. Looming large on the screen was a Jem'Hadar battlecruiser. Even Bashir could see that her phaser banks were lit bright blue, armed and no doubt locked on to the station. Bashir stepped back as if to avoid it.

"Raise shields," ordered Sisko. The next few moments would be the real test. Sisko needed not only to convince Damar that Garak was not on the station, but also to prevent him from going in pursuit of the departing ship, which they must have seen on their own sensors.

"They're hailing us," Kira said.

"On screen."

Damar again appeared on the screen. "Captain Sisko," he said. "You are hereby ordered to prepare the tailor Garak to depart the station. You will have him ready within thirty minutes or we will fire."

"You told us you wouldn't fire on the station," Sisko recalled their earlier conversation.

"And I won't. If I have Garak aboard within my time limit." Damar didn't seem at all uncomfortable about having left out that qualifying phrase previously.

Sisko appeared unruffled, "I'm sorry, Damar, but Garak is not currently on the station."

Captain Sisko hoped Damar would argue the point, that he would believe Sisko to be lying and hiding Garak somewhere, but Damar knew immediately what Sisko meant. He was not happy. "He's on that mystery ship, then. It's the only way he could have left." He leaned his head back, addressing the next question to his crew, "Are we still tracking them?"

"They've gone out of range, but their ion trail is still fresh. Confusing, but fresh."

"Damar out." The screen went blank, and Sisko was surprised Damar had taken enough time to sign off. The huge ship on the screen backed off, then cumbersomely turned around, and warped away.

Bashir stepped forward again, "Sir, they'll catch up to Dukat in less than an hour." He didn't add the plea that seemed to burn in his brain: Do something.

Sisko was well aware of the two ships' relative speeds. If Dukat elected to continue his sensor charade, he would not be able to outrun Damar at all. But it didn't even appear that Sisko had heard Bashir, "Prepare the Defiant for launch. Major, you have the station. Worf, Dax, you're with me."

"Captain," Bashir spoke up, the phrase 'what about me' almost escaping his lips.

Sisko seemed tired, but recognized Bashir's unasked question. His mind working ahead, he didn't see how they could possibly launch and overtake Damar's ship before it reached its objective. "Yes, Doctor," he agreed almost sadly, "When we do get him back, he may be injured." He led the three officers to the lift.

On the bridge of the Restitution, Dukat motioned for Garak to take the seat next to him. Garak sat down nervously, considering the look Dukat's first officer gave him as he vacated the chair. Dukat also saw the look, and gave one of his own to the officer. "Attention," he said, addressing the entire bridge. "I know many of you are not happy with our current mission, but that is going to end now," he said, emphasizing the last two words. "You've all heard of Garak, even if you have not met him. Most of what you have heard is true. I don't argue that point. My reasons do not have to be explained. I will tolerate no further comments, arguments, or looks," he singled out his first officer with his gaze as he said that word, "and I expect unquestioning obedience from this moment on. Our very lives may depend on it. If you are not willing to accept these terms...never mind that. All of you will accept these terms. Attend to your stations."

There was no grumbling. The bridge officers simply turned to their work, but Garak was certain that Dukat had made some new enemies here with that speech. It wouldn't be wise to question him here, where he could be overheard, but he felt that Dukat had just made Garak's job of protecting his command much harder. He began to wonder if he might have been better off taking his chances on the station. But when he thought over the choices he'd had, he still came to the same conclusion. He just hoped Sisko could handle Damar, somehow convince him to go back to Cardassia without him. In a few days, he could expect a communiquÉ from DS9 telling him it was safe to return, and that would be that. Until then, he'd have to fit in here somehow.

So, his reputation had preceded him. It wasn't just the Detapa Council that knew about his past. The general populace, at least in part, seemed to be aware of his accused duplicity. He didn't like not being trusted ... never had ... but he couldn't seem to escape it. The distrust followed him. He had learned to play with it on DS9, tease his friends with his obtuse observations, and sometimes even make himself useful, but in the back of his mind, all he really wanted was someone's complete trust. He glanced at Dukat in the gul's chair. Dukat, of all people, was trusting him in a sense. The problem was, could he really do what Dukat asked of him? He didn't like Dukat any more than Dukat liked him. Why Dukat had saved his life he couldn't even imagine, especially since his affair with Dukat's daughter, Ziyal, had angered Dukat even more than any of his past transgressions.

Trust. What did it really mean? Was it even possible, in the true sense, given the utter unpredictability of humanoid species? But then, this was Dukat: not only a man he'd known for most of his life, but one of his own kind and a man proven to be extremely unpredictable. This man had led Bajor through several years of oppression, been forced to abandon the station, had wormed his way back, nearly retaking the station more than once. He had threatened Captain Sisko numerous times, but had saved his life as often. The loss of his daughter had weighed heavily on Dukat, Garak knew. It had weighed heavily on himself as well. Garak had a sudden insight, a glimmer of something the two of them now shared. Ziyal's death. And he knew what Dukat wanted.

Damar.

It was Damar who had fired the fatal shot. Even though any revenge against the powerful legate had to be years in the future, Dukat was already preparing for it. He was prepared to take years to build an army, assemble a fleet, somehow, to get Damar. And he wanted to make sure the one man who had equal reason to hate Damar was not only on his side, but at his side, knowing that desire was at least as effective as hardware when it came to battlefields.

As the Restitution continued its slow crawl out of Bajoran space, Garak knew he was being given a chance to share the reward Dukat had claimed for himself. He settled into the chair satisfactorily, beginning to take his new job very seriously, all thoughts of returning to DS9 in the near future gone. If Dukat lost his command, they both lost their chance for revenge.

"Sir, I'm picking up a ship following us." The helmsman, Torus, whirled in his seat to face the command chair. "It's Damar." He whirled back again, studying his instruments. "He's gaining fast."

Dukat appeared calm. "Red alert! Disengage the mutating ID. Full shields. Go to warp nine." The bridge lighting subdued as power was redirected to weapons and shields.

Torus replied, "Mutating ID disengaged. Warp three. Warp four." Just then, the ship rocked slightly. "Damar fired on us. No damage. Warp six." The ship continued to accelerate. "Warp seven. Damar is at warp nine point two. Still gaining." The helmsman informed them. "Now detecting another ship approaching at warp nine point oh six." He sighed in unexpected relief, "It's the Defiant."

"Maintain!" Dukat ordered suddenly, his head tilted as if listening.

"Maintaining, sir. Cruising at warp seven point five."

Garak spoke up, "Dukat, what are you doing? They'll catch us."

"Patience, Garak," Dukat breathed.

"The Defiant has engaged Damar's ship," Torus announced. "They are both reducing speed."

Garak could see Dukat's wheels turning. "Resume acceleration. Maximum speed. Rear view on screen." Dukat ordered. "The Defiant will distract Damar, allowing us to escape. How thoughtful of the good captain."

Dukat wasn't at all worried about the damage Damar would do to the Defiant, Garak thought. Instead, they were running like the Cardassian d'xinkas that they were. "Dukat," Garak said, keeping his voice low and calm, "I don't think Captain Sisko would make such a sacrifice."

"Captain Sisko has a lot of confidence in that ship of his, Garak. He has no idea what he's sailing into." It was only the amount of time the massacre would take that was important to Dukat. With luck, Damar's ship would be sufficiently disabled to make any further pursuit impossible. He watched the ships in pursuit on the viewscreen. Gradually, a third ship, a Klingon Bird of Prey, came into view and immediately began firing on Damar's ship. It fired several torpedoes in passing, then turned its weapons on the Restitution as it overtook the flagship before it began a wide turn to make another pass.

"Au contraire, Dukat," quipped Garak as the Restitution shuddered with incoming fire, "it appears that Damar has no idea what he's sailing into. And neither do we," he added as a Romulan Warbird came into view and decloaked, its wingspan balancing its mass and giving it the maneuverability to swing around the more rotund Jem'Hadar ship, firing phasers.

Dukat rose from his seat, moving closer to the screen, "How much damage has Damar taken?" Although Damar had a powerful ship, he had just taken rapid fire from three different attackers. Dukat had a sudden thought that the odds had drastically changed. With the help of the Federation and its allies, Damar could be much less of a problem.

"His shields are down to sixty percent," someone behind Garak reported, "Phasers are off-line." It was Rejel, a weapons officer.

Dukat hadn't expected such good news. He planted himself firmly back in the gul's chair. "Come about."

"Dukat!" Garak could not believe it. Dukat was planning to take on all three enemy ships in an attempt to disable Damar's ship himself. He wouldn't want to miss out on Damar's demise. "Don't be a fool! You'll get us all killed!" After all, Garak thought, this ship was also considered an enemy. But with Damar's ship the closer target, it was taking the Toskanar dog's fill of hits, with no more than potshots aimed at the Restitution.

Dukat backhanded Garak, who did little more than turn his head to absorb the blow. "You know the chain of command," he growled, "I suggest you remember your place in it."

Specifically, Garak realized, that would be below Dukat. One does not question a gul's, even a self-appointed gul's, orders. Ever. He kept his voice low enough to avoid shouting, but strong enough to be heard over the alarms. "This is not the time!" Garak said.

Dukat leaned sideways in his chair, closer to Garak, "You know what the Ferengi say. Opportunity makes it the time."

"I'm quite familiar with the Rules of Acquisition, but I don't recall that one...." In fact, he was certain that Dukat had simply made it up.

But Dukat didn't seem to hear Garak at all. The Restitution rocked with more phaser blasts from the Klingon ship as it made its slow turn through space, all the ships decelerating to stay together. The pursuit ships grew large very quickly on the screen. "Fire at will," ordered Dukat.

"Target, sir?" Torus hesitated. To him, although he was part of this new resistance, there were three choices: Federation, Klingon and Romulan. His instincts still did not allow him to consider shooting on a Jem'Hadar ship run by Cardassians.

"Damar, of course!" Dukat was not happy with the helmsman.

Torus obeyed immediately, firing full phaser banks on Damar's ship. A phaser glow enveloped the ship as its weakening shields absorbed the blast. Then the Restitution was past the ship and in the open for the other attacking vessels. "Come around. Stay with the battle, Torus."

The Restitution dodged a torpedo from Damar's ship, moving into the path of phasers from the Warbird. Then both the Warbird and the Bird of Prey fired simultaneously on the Restitution. It felt as if the ship had hit a brick wall in space. One hit simply absorbed the momentum from the other, keeping any inertial damage to a minimum, but enhancing the physical damage on either side. It was going to be difficult to keep their noses in this battle without getting them shot off. "Shields down to forty six percent," Torus reported. "We are being hailed," he added, as if the hail had been on his board for some time and he'd missed seeing it. "The Defiant."

Dukat didn't want to lose the tactical information showing on screen. "Audio only. Captain Sisko."

"Dukat, what the hell are you doing?"

"Trying to survive," he answered grumpily.

"You shouldn't have turned around. You could have made it out of the sector."

Dukat didn't answer right away. He watched as Damar's ship took more hits, bouncing around as if on a taut trampoline, its return fire going wild. "If we succeed," he replied finally, "we won't have to leave the sector."

Garak could almost see the light bulb go off over Sisko's head. The captain understood that Dukat was out for revenge. "Dukat, I'm not in communication with those other ships. They aren't answering my hails." In other words, he had no control over the other attacking vessels, despite their alliance. If the Restitution was going to hang around, they'd have to watch their own backs.

"Understood." Dukat closed the channel as the Restitution took a hit from the Bird of Prey. The bridge seemed to tilt to starboard, then right itself as the dampening systems struggled to maintain gravity control.

Sisko swivelled his chair to the station behind and to the right of him. "Dax?"

Jadzia had that sad look in her eyes telling him that she didn't need seven lifetimes of experience to tell her that the situation was going badly. "They have no phasers. Two torpedo launchers are damaged. There are --" she stopped to gasp at what her board was showing her, "-- nine hull breaches covering six decks. Life support is failing. Shields are at thirty percent. Their comm system is overloaded."

Sisko swivelled to the other side, "Worf?"

"No answer to our hails from any of the ships, sir."

"Keep trying." Then, more to himself, "Dammit, Martok, back off!" He nervously watched the uneven battle. Well, if they won't talk to me, I'll have to try to knock some sense into them, he thought. "Worf, target all attacking vessels and fire at will." He truly disliked this type of order. Any shot to any ship could result in casualties, even fatalities. But he disliked even more that Martok refused to answer his hails. Granted, Klingons liked a glorious battle, but this slaughter hardly qualified. It was true that they were at war with the Cardassians and the Jem'Hadar, and allied with both the Klingons and the Romulans, but that didn't mean he was about to sit back and watch a massacre. The scene on the viewscreen reminded Sisko of vultures swarming around a dying animal in the desert. Although the Restitution should have been an equal target, Martok and the Romulan, who may have been in communication, were taking the strength-in-numbers tactic and concentrating on one ship at a time, shooting at the Restitution only when convenience allowed it. "Dax," he asked, again turning his chair away from the ongoing battle on screen, "are we within transporter range?"

"Yes, sir," Dax replied.

Worf, given free reign, began taking potshots to even the fight. He managed to push the Romulan Warbird off as it began an attack run, and punished the Rotarran for completing its. At the same time, he continued to punch his communication board, sending hails and cease fires to both ships.

Sisko knew he couldn't transport with his shields up. For his idea to work, he had to hope that Martok and the Romulan commander knew better than to fire on the Defiant. "Scan Damar's ship for life signs and tell the transporter room to stand by. The instant Damar's shields fail completely, drop ours long enough to transport, then back us out of here."

Garak saw the Defiant jump into the fray. It began to fire on the Klingon and Romulan attacking vessels. Dukat's jawline tightened. He should have known Sisko would take the defensive, but it did take the heat off the Restitution. "Torpedoes. Full spread," Dukat ordered with an angry glance at Garak to prevent any objections.

Three balls of light rushed from the Restitution to Damar's ship. In rapid succession, the first two overloaded Damar's forward shields, allowing the third to squeak through and strike his hull. A small explosion left a gash three decks wide.

Meanwhile, the Romulan and Klingon ships returned the Defiant's fire. Garak saw the Defiant back off several thousand kilometers. The Bird of Prey then easily took out Damar's rear shields, leaving more long black gashes in the hull. Garak could only watch as fire on Damar's ship escalated from all three ships. Dukat was on the edge of his seat, shouting targets. The shattered hulk no longer returned fire, but sat there buffeted like the loser of a boxing match. When a shot finally pierced the engine room, releasing the anti-matter in a bright white explosion, no one was even sure which ship had fired it.

A cheer rose up around the Restitution's bridge, the loudest of them all from Dukat. "Yes!" He turned toward Garak who sat there expressionless, "Garak, we've won!"

"Don't forget --" Garak started to say.

"Incoming!" Torus shouted.

The Romulan and Klingon ships both turned their weapons on the Restitution. The ship rocked even more violently than before, throwing Dukat to the floor. He rose quickly, sitting more properly in his chair. "Resume course and speed! Get us out of here! Damage report!"

"Shields at twenty percent. We have a hull breach on deck sixteen. Four dead," reported Rejel. "The ships are pursuing."

"All of them? The Defiant as well?"

"Yes, sir. But she's hanging back."

They took another hit from the Warbird, and Dukat felt the ship slow down. "What happened? We need speed!"

Three crewmen were running from station to station behind them. "We've lost warp drive!" reported one. As he approached a workstation, the board shot off a slew of sparks in his face, filling the bridge with smoke, and the crewman grunted in pain and fell backwards.

"Perhaps if we asked Captain Sisko for assistance...." Garak suggested, remembering Sisko's previous offer of help.

The suggestion got a curious glance from Dukat. "You expect me to surrender?"

Garak chose his words carefully, wiping a stream of blood from his cheek, "You heard Captain Sisko. The Klingons and Romulans are acting unilaterally. Ask him to come to our defense before there's nothing left to defend!" He paused, seeing that Dukat wasn't convinced. The Defiant was at observation distance now, biding its time while the Restitution began to look more and more like Damar's doomed ship.

"No," Dukat replied flatly. "Damar is finished. I've done what I came to do."

Garak stood, his stance unsteady as the ship moved beneath his feet. "So, you'll sacrifice this ship and everyone on it because you've gotten your revenge? You'll die a happy man because Damar died first? I thought the true purpose of revenge was to outlive the enemy by more than a few minutes!"

"Evasive maneuvers!" Dukat suddenly shouted at the helm, seeing incoming fire. He also rose from his seat, ready to discipline Torus. The full impact of the torpedo knocked him off his feet and he hit his head on the arm of the command chair. He quickly shook off the haze and moved forward and angrily brought Torus to his feet, then dropped him as he realized the man was already dead, his gaping head wound still oozing blood. The man fell limply to the deck, near a monitor that had until recently been mounted in the ceiling. Dukat stared down at him. He hadn't even seen the equipment fall. The Restitution's commander looked around at his bridge with a new appreciation. The viewscreen flashed with phaser fire from two directions, lighting the scene with a macabre type of strobe light. Two crewmen lay on the upper bridge, still moaning, but not for long. One lay with his head draped face down over the edge to the lower bridge. No more status reports were called out. He looked at Garak, whose right cheek was bleeding, and tried to imagine what he looked like. He put one hand up to his temple, where it had been itching but he'd ignored it. His fingers came back blood-stained.

"Do we have ship-to-ship?" Dukat asked to whomever could answer.

Garak stepped up to the rear bridge, stepping over the bodies as if they were mere rocks in his path, and went to the communications station. "Yes, we do."

"Hail the Defiant." He faced the screen and waited for Sisko's face to appear. It did, but the face next to his was completely unexpected. "Damar!" Any feeling of some slight victory that he could take with him instantly vanished. It wasn't even a consolation to see that one of Damar's arms was in a sling.

Sisko resisted the urge to smile. "We beamed him and his survivors here as soon as he lost shields," Sisko explained. "Shall I plan to do the same for you?"

Dukat was silent, simply staring at the screen. A hit from one of the attacking vessels caused the signal to degrade, as behind him the communications console shorted out. Garak stepped back from it, guarding his face with his hands until the sparking stopped, and watched Dukat as the truth dawned on him. His victory had been pulled out from under him. His enemy was safe and sound on another ship. His own ship was in a losing battle, and his only chance for survival lay on that ship where his enemy had taken refuge. The bridge was shrouded in smoke and littered with bodies.

"Dukat?" Sisko prodded, squinting and moving his head to decipher what had to be a very poor signal on his end.

"Our shields are gone," Garak reported. In less than a minute, the Romulan and Klingon ships would escalate their fire just as they had on Damar's ship.

Looking down at the helm, Dukat could see that there were no defenses left. Sisko interpreted Dukat's drop of his head as defeat and the Defiant's transporter cleared the bridge.

Worf, armed and snarling, greeted them when they materialized. "I've been instructed to take you to the brig," he said to Dukat, touching the Cardassian's armored chest with the muzzle of a phaser rifle. "You may report to the bridge," he told Garak.

Garak hesitated, looking at the unconscious, injured Cardassians who now lay haphazardly on the platform. A medical team led by Julian Bashir rushed into the room. Bashir greeted his friend with a smile, a medically critical glance, and a quick scan, "You're not seriously hurt. Wash that out as soon as you can and I'll check you over later. Welcome back."

"Thank you, Doctor." Garak, still stunned by the odd turn of events, stepped off the platform. A sudden jolt drove him into the transporter control console, but he grabbed it before he fell over. "That would be the Restitution," he whispered to himself, wondering how many of his people had gone with it. In his mind's eye, he could see the explosion as clearly as if he were on the bridge watching it. Worf nudged Dukat forward with the rifle and led him out of the room. Without looking back, Garak followed before the door closed.

On the bridge, Garak was greeted by Damar and Sisko before he could step off the lift. "I guess we still have a problem," Sisko said, "let's talk about it." He and Damar joined Garak in the lift.

Minutes later, the three of them sat around a table in a conference room. "Damar, let's start with you," Sisko said, exuding calm that was probably due to the well-armed security guards standing behind him.

Damar sat directly across from Garak, his left arm immobilized. He looked pointedly at Garak, who held a damp cloth to one cheek. "We need all Cardassians to come defend our home world. We cannot tolerate desertion. You are young enough, well-trained in combat, and in espionage. You represent a large investment to Cardassia Prime. Allowing you to stay here any longer would not be militarily wise." He turned to Sisko, "Captain, while I sympathize with your position, we are not allies here. You have no jurisdiction to decide for us."

"Perhaps not," Sisko said, obviously disturbed by that reminder, "but this is my ship. That makes it my jurisdiction. Think of it, Damar. You've just lost an entire battlecruiser and several dozen valuable crewmembers in pursuit of this man. Is one fighter actually worth that kind of payment?"

"This one is," Damar replied, still looking at Garak as if he thought the man would disappear.

Garak knew what he meant. Having lived on DS9 for the past six years, in what Damar would consider enemy territory, his observations would be considered invaluable. Even without knowing specifics in troop deployment or other intelligence, his insight into the mind of the enemy, the Federation, as well as this particular enemy, Captain Sisko, was enough to expend quite a bit of effort in retrieving him.

Sisko indicated his guards with a toss of his head. "We are at war. Let's say I declare you and Dukat prisoners of war and take you both into formal custody." He stressed the word 'both'. Damar must know that Dukat was already in that situation.

"Since we are at war," Damar replied, "why did you even bother to rescue me? You would have been within your rights to watch both ships be destroyed with all hands." He paused a moment, another thought occurring to him as he spoke. "Are you saying that I am not a prisoner?"

"Not in the formal sense, no." His humanitarian side was showing, but Sisko showed no visible weakness. "I'm keeping this meeting off the record. I'm hoping we can work out our differences peacefully."

"In that case, Captain," Damar shifted his eyes to indicate the guards behind Sisko, "we shouldn't need them in here."

Sisko hesitated, judging how trustworthy he could gauge Damar to be, and decided to take a chance. He turned to the guards, "Wait outside." The guards nodded and left the room.

"Captain, I'm not sure that's wise." Garak, who had been silent until then, spoke up as he eyed his enemy suspiciously. Damar had the look of someone who had just achieved a minor victory.

"They won't be far away," Sisko assured Garak, "and it would still be two against one. Plus, he has a weak arm. It's a gamble, but I'm gambling he's too intelligent to try anything under these circumstances." He watched Damar as he spoke. The Cardassian legate seemed to concede each point and Garak reluctantly accepted the situation. "Now," Sisko continued, "where were we?"

"Cardassia Prime respectfully requests Garak's presence on the home world as soon as possible." The polite words made Damar's mouth pucker as if he had sucked a lemon.

"Garak respectfully declines," Sisko said, raising an eyebrow as if to say 'It's that simple?' even while knowing that these negotiations were only beginning.

Rolling his lips, Damar tilted his head, pulling another rehearsed response out of his memory. "If Garak wishes to show respect, he will not decline, but embrace the opportunity to show his home world his support."

To Sisko, it didn't sound like anything Damar would say at all. He could almost hear the oily voice of Weyoun speaking, see the Vorta's blue eyes as they fell in false humility. Sisko's eyes narrowed as he studied the legate's face. "Although Garak respects the offer, he cannot, at this time, support Cardassia Prime's political agenda. In good conscience, he therefore cannot return home."

Damar began to grumble under his breath, uttering some kind of Cardassian curse at Garak.

"Excuse me, Legate Damar?" Sisko felt using the title might show enough respect to defuse his temper.

"Conscience be damned!" Damar exclaimed, now clearly speaking for himself, pointing at Garak, "that man is a traitor! He has moved against Cardassia for the last time! His blatant disregard for his home world will no longer be tolerated!" He stopped a moment to calm himself, though it took an effort, "That leaves us," he said clearly, snarling, "with a deserter infidel who must be executed."

Sisko looked at Garak, but Garak merely looked at the table, absorbing the insult. "I'm afraid we don't have an extradition treaty, either," Sisko noted, maintaining his calm demeanor, making Damar's outburst seem that much more like an over-reaction. "Garak has the right to stay on DS9, represented at the moment by the Defiant, if he so wishes."

The legate ground his teeth together in frustration, hatred burning in his eyes. "Speak for yourself," he growled at Garak, "you cowardly dee'var."

Garak raised his head and looked at Damar, the wet, bloody cloth still in one hand. After a side glance at Sisko, perhaps reassuring himself of the man's nearness, he said, "I have no less love for our home world than you do, Legate Damar. But I am quite sure that right now is not a good time for me to return there. With all due respect, I am accepting Captain Sisko's offer of sanctuary."

By now, Damar was seething. Then, quite suddenly, he rose and jumped over the table grasping for Garak's throat. In seconds he had thrown off his arm restraint and had his hands wrapped around the narrowest part of Garak's neck, squeezing both windpipe and neck ridges. Taken by surprise, Garak dropped the damp cloth and clawed at the hands around his throat, stumbling backwards and knocking over his chair. Amazingly acrobatic, Damar finished his climb over the table and got footing on the floor without lessening his grip, driving Garak further backwards and into the wall.

"Damar!" Sisko shouted as the man leaped over the table. By the time they reached the wall, Sisko had called for Worf and run over to try to separate the men himself.

Sisko actually managed to peel one of Damar's hands off of Garak's neck. He heard Garak gasp for air, his pale face darkening, his cheek wound bleeding freely again. Damar used his free hand to shove Sisko aside roughly. Damar was again grasping Garak's throat with both hands as Sisko stumbled over Garak's overturned chair, fell and rolled to one side, swiftly righting himself.

The door slid open and Worf entered, followed by no less than four armed guards. He saw the disturbance immediately, and moved toward Damar. He put one hand on Garak's shoulder and one hand on Damar's shoulder, and with a quick push, separated the combatants. Garak slid to the floor, still clawing at his throat and gulping air. Blood from his cheek spattered on the wall as he fell. Damar, now held back by Worf, spat at Garak. "I was promised your execution, and I will have it!" he shouted.

Sisko nodded his head toward the door. Worf understood and steered Damar out of the room.

Sisko used his combadge to call for Doctor Bashir as he quickly crossed the room to kneel by Garak. "Garak?" he asked quietly.

His voice croaking, Garak replied, "I'll be all right, Captain. Thank you."

He tried to rise, but Sisko pushed him gently back down. "Don't get up. Let Bashir take a look at you. He'll be here shortly." Garak nodded weakly. Sisko was going to stay with him until the doctor arrived, but his eyes shot upward reflexively as the red alert alarm sounded. He exchanged a look with Garak, who waved him to go, then left the injured man alone.

By the time Captain Sisko got to the bridge, the ship was already on screen. Dax vacated the command chair as Sisko slid into it and reported, "Jem'Hadar warship approaching fast." She slid deftly into her own chair at the helm, "ETA about...a minute ago." The ship hovered full size on the screen now.

"Hail them."

"Aye, sir. Hailing."

"On screen."

The image of the ship was replaced by Weyoun's head and shoulders. "Captain Sisko, I understand there's been some kind of problem with our rescue operation."

"Rescue? I wouldn't call it that. The individual in question isn't in need of rescue."

Weyoun, not surprisingly, smiled. "Why, Captain, surely you can't deny us the humanitarian objective of retrieving our wounded?"

"Yes, I can." Sisko replied simply. "The men in our custody will be handled by normal Federation wartime procedures. They have committed crimes against the Federation and will be tried in a Federation court."

Weyoun's smile disappeared. "You don't understand, Captain Sisko. I will have my men returned to me, all of them, or I will take them from you."

Sisko motioned for Dax to mute the transmission. "Unusually blunt for Weyoun. What's our status?"

Dax examined her board, then spoke with her chin low so her lips could not be read by the visual pickup. "Shields at eighty percent and phasers at full. Torpedo lock is off-line. Engineering says they can have everything at full power in less than an hour."

It would have been nice to have full power now, but they were still in good shape. Sisko motioned for audio. "Sorry, Weyoun. I can't authorize their release."

In the lower decks of the Defiant, Worf was escorting Damar to the brig. With his phaser trained on Damar's back, another security guard led the way. When the red alert sounded, Worf was directly under the light and speaker. The sudden loud sound and flashing light startled him for an instant. Damar took advantage of that instant, as if he had been anticipating it all along. He first turned and kicked Worf's hands, sending the phaser flying. He then kicked the other way, accomplishing the same thing on the other, less experienced guard. Worf had him against the wall before his foot returned to the floor, but he shifted only to bring his other knee up sharply into the Klingon's groin. Worf grunted, but did not loosen his grip on Damar's shoulders. Damar swiftly brought both hands up inside Worf's arms and spread them, breaking Worf's hold. Knowing that by then the other guard had scrambled for a phaser and had taken aim, Damar ducked, and the beam struck Worf in the neck. The Klingon dropped heavily to the deck and Damar turned to the other guard. This time the guard did not allow the phaser to be kicked from his hands, but his second shot went wild and hit a wall. Then Damar had the guard against the wall, phaser hand held straight away from both men. Damar slammed the guard's wrist against the wall repeatedly until the phaser fell, then slammed the man's head against the wall until he fell. Picking up the nearest dropped phaser, he ran down the corridor.

Bashir entered the conference room to find his friend sitting weakly against the wall just inside the door. A breathy "Elim" escaped Bashir's lips. He knelt and examined Garak, finding evidence of strangulation almost immediately. Garak tried to push himself up to a standing position, "Bridge," he panted, his voice coming out like a croak as he tried to speak above the alarms.

"No," Bashir responded, pushing his patient back to the floor. "Ignore it. Captain Sisko will take care of that." He pushed his combadge, "Bashir to transporter room. Two to beam directly to Sickbay. Energize."

Nothing happened.

Bashir did it again with the same results. "Okay, Garak," he said, helping his friend to his feet. "Let's go."

Garak, the act of standing tiring him, steadied himself on Bashir's arm. "It's not over."

"For you it is," Bashir insisted. Slowly, the two walked out of the conference room.

"They are both prisoners of war, Weyoun. I'm not letting them go," Sisko argued with the Vorta on the screen.

Weyoun took on his most persuasive face ... he had many ... and said, "Captain Sisko, Damar was not acting as a soldier. He was not following orders, I assure you. After the council made its announcement, he saw an opportunity. Using his authority, he commandeered a ship and left Cardassia Prime. It was very dangerous on his part, Captain. He took no Vorta. If the Jem'Hadar had turned against him for any reason he would not have stood a chance. If they had required Ketracel White before he could return, he would have been killed outright. But he promised them a battle. The Jem'Hadar stationed on Cardassia Prime have not seen a battle in a long while, so I can't blame them. I doubt it would have kept them from helping Damar in exchange for promise of another in any case. Damar will be punished, Captain --"

"I'm sure he will," Sisko interrupted, "by the Federation. I cannot set him free to lead more battles against us." In the back of his mind, Sisko was becoming aware of Worf's absence. Normally, a red alert would bring the Klingon to the bridge with alacrity. Sisko let none of his worry show on his face.

Weyoun laughed hollowly, "Need I remind you who has the upper hand here? Your ship already has battle damage. Slight, but damage nonetheless. You cannot outrun me. Your Romulan and Klingon allies no doubt have headed home to nurse their own wounds. You cannot expect help from them this time. But give me my men and I will leave. I will only fire on you if you force me to." His Jem'Hadar First moved into view. "My fighters are anxious to begin."

"Then let it begin." Sisko closed the channel.

The corridor was spinning. No, of course it wasn't. Worf put one hand on his head as he rolled to one knee. Then he remembered the fight and looked quickly both ways down the corridor. He saw the unconscious body of the guard and blood on the wall in a line pointing to the back of the guard's head. Crawling over to him, Worf checked the man's neck for a pulse. He found one, and sat back against the opposite wall in relief for a moment. "Worf to Sickbay. Medical emergency on deck eight." He heard a muffled acknowledgement from a medical lieutenant. Taking deep breaths, he rose to his feet and headed for a turbolift. The corridor shook suddenly as the ship was hit by incoming fire, driving Worf's shoulder into the wall. He pushed himself upright and continued on.

Stepping into the lift and ignoring his headache and the sirens that aggravated it, he said, "Bridge." The lift started to move. Then it halted briefly, and lights and sound disappeared for an instant as the ship was hit again. But they came back on and the lift resumed its ascent.

It traveled upward a deck or two, then again stopped suddenly. But there had been no shudder to indicate a third hit. The lift simply stopped dead. Then the lights went out, although the sirens continued to blare, leaving Worf in complete darkness.

Somewhere in the bowels of the ship, Damar quietly replaced an access panel with a smile on his face. Near him lay two unconscious crewmen, and the phaser that had caused it. Picking up the phaser, he moved several feet down the corridor and opened another access panel.

In the brig, Dukat rested on the simple bed with one arm across his eyes, blocking out the flashing red lights. There was no way to block out the keening sirens which filled the air, and Dukat knew that whatever the cause there was nothing he could do about it. Whatever was happening would happen without him. Just then, the ship lurched unexpectedly, and Dukat found himself rolling off the bed and onto the floor. He caught himself with his hands, listening as if he could hear the enemy outside the ship. Getting to his knees, Dukat was going to use the bed to push himself back to his feet when the second hit came. This time, he fell backwards. He sat on the floor then, anticipating a third jolt, or more, but none came. Finally, he rose to his feet. Again, he waited, listening, looking out at the now dimly lit room beyond. He was about to resign himself to ignorance and lie back down on the bed when something else happened.

The light surrounding his cell doorway, indicating the invisible force field which confined him, went out. If he had been able to hear the hum of the energy over the sirens he would have noticed that, too, had stopped. He sat on the edge of the bed hesitantly, then leaned toward the door and stretched out one hand to touch the door frame. Feeling no effect, he used the door frame as leverage and pulled the rest of his body through the doorway.

A security guard, alerted by his monitor that power to an active cell had been interrupted, entered with phaser raised to find the cell in question empty. He scanned the room with both eyes and phaser, then stepped forward. From the shadows created by the emergency lighting, Dukat lunged forward with both of his hands clasped and clubbed the man on the head. He quickly disarmed the guard, then went quietly to the Security main door. He allowed it to open, but ducked to one side as it did and straightened his back against the wall. Another security guard entered with his weapon raised, saw Dukat out of the corner of his eye and at the same time realized it was too late. The beam hit him square in the chest and he dropped to the floor. Dukat stepped over him and into the corridor.

"Sir, we're experiencing unexplained power outages all over the ship," Dax reported.

"Isolate."

Pushing buttons on her console, Dax recited, "The main turbolift is down. Replicators on decks three through seven are off-line." She raised her head in concern, "Power to Security force fields is off."

"Send additional security teams to the brig. Alert them that Dukat may be at large." Sisko rubbed his tired eyes. This was turning out to be a very long day. Where the hell was Worf, anyway? He should have at least checked in with Sisko if he had decided to investigate the problem in Security.

"Aye, sir."

"Is there more?"

"Yes, sir. Lighting in some areas is inconsistent." She shook her head in frustration, "Internal communications are spotty with interference. It's hard to make sense of what I'm hearing. The sonic showers on deck four section E are out. No one's trying to use them, but Engineering has traced several outages to the same power coupling."

"Sisko to Engineering." He deeply regretted having left O'Brien on DS9.

"Lieutenant Michaels here, sir." A young female voice came over the comm system. "There are too many outages to trace them all." Sisko could hear nervousness in her voice, but also confidence. In the background, just above mildly irritating static, there were shouts and orders and the sounds of people running. "Murphy!" Michaels called, ignoring the open comm, "Forget the diagnostic. I need you to keep that anti-matter regulator online!"

Feeling a little like an intruder, Sisko told her, "Do the best you can, Lieutenant."

"Aye, sir."

Another hit jostled the ship as he closed the channel.

Unhappy about the bouncing around his patient had taken on the way, Bashir stumbled into Sickbay with Garak, who had recovered enough to need only a little support. He still looked eternally grateful to lie on the biobed and let Bashir run his instruments. Bashir was tempted to call the bridge to find out what was happening, but knew Sisko must have his hands full. Bracing himself against the biobed with one hip, he made his diagnosis, "Garak, you have three fractures in your neckridges, two on the right and one on the left, and a badly bruised larynx. Aside from the cut on your cheek, of course." He was already treating the latter with a dermal regenerator. "Hold still."

The sound of the door opening caused Bashir to interrupt his work and turn around. Dukat entered the room, holding a phaser in one hand which pointed at the floor. After the door closed, he said, "It's Weyoun, you know."

"I don't care who it is. I have a patient." Bashir returned to his work, but watched Dukat's phaser hand out of the corner of his eye.

Dukat moved closer to the bed, trying to make out the readings which to his untrained eye meant nothing. "Can he be moved? We have to get him to safety."

The phrase 'ulterior motive' coming to mind, Bashir gave Dukat a passing glance. "He's safe here."

"If I can get in, so can the Jem'Hadar."

When Garak's cheek was healed, Bashir gave Dukat his full attention. Holding out one hand, palm up, he met Dukat's gaze confidently until the former gul surrendered the weapon. Even with the phaser in his hand, Bashir continued to eye Dukat as he spoke, "Computer, quarantine Sickbay. Authorization Doctor Bashir, Julian, alpha three six." He watched Dukat relax visibly. "Now may I tend to my patient?"

"Please." Dukat said, displaying one palm as an invitation as he leaned on the next bed.

In the dark of the turbolift, Worf, who possibly alone among the crew could reach the ceiling without aid, felt for the overhead access panel. He found it and pushed it open. The shaft was not as dark; emergency lighting casting a light haze through the distance above. Grasping the edge of the access hole, Worf boosted himself up and through it. From there, it was a simple matter to find the maintenance ladder along one side of the shaft. A few minutes later, Worf poked his head through the floor of the bridge, attracting surprised looks from Sisko and Dax.

"Worf! What happened?"

"I'm sorry, Captain," Worf said as he pulled his large frame through the access hole and closed the panel. "Damar got away from me."

The answer to the power outages became clear. "He's causing malfunctions throughout the ship," he explained to Worf.

By then, Worf was at his tactical station, quickly scanning several readouts and punching in requests for more. "The malfunctions are numerous, but appear to be random. He's not familiar with the electrical schematics of the Defiant. He's probably hoping to affect the --"

"-- shields," Sisko finished with him. "Dax?"

"Scanning for Cardassian life forms," she replied immediately, anticipating his unspoken request. "Two in Sickbay. Sickbay appears to be under quarantine." Well, they'd get the answer to that later. Her confusion only lasted a moment.

"Dukat," Sisko guessed. He also was confused about the quarantine. That would require Bashir's authorization, and Bashir would be with -- "and Garak. Where's the third?"

The third Cardassian had just stunned the last crewman in Auxiliary Engineering. He studied the control panels for a few moments, then touched them. Breathing hard from his recent exertion, he continued to watch the panels a bit longer, then finally let the phaser drop to the floor and put both hands on the controls.

"Captain, we've lost shields!" Dax reported breathlessly. "I tried to lock out Auxiliary Control from here, but it was too late." Checking another panel, she swore softly, "The Jem'Hadar have initiated transport. Damar's gone."

"Damn," Sisko uttered, expecting a Jem'Hadar raiding party to materialize in front of him.

Instead, the voice of Lieutenant Michaels from Engineering came through the speaker in his chair arm, "Shields restored, Captain."

"Good work, Lieutenant!" If Weyoun had opted to beam in boarding parties over rescuing Damar, Sisko would have considerably less to cheer about.

His chair arm spoke again, this time with a different voice, "Doctor Bashir to Sisko."

"Yes, Doctor?"

"I thought you'd like to know that Garak is doing fine. I have Dukat here with me as well."

Remembering the current status of his Sickbay, Sisko asked, "We have you under quarantine, Doctor. Is there a problem I should know about?"

"Not medically, no. I authorized the quarantine as a safety precaution. Are we still under attack?"

Glancing at the viewscreen, Sisko replied, "Not at the moment. He's got Damar, but he'll still want Dukat and Garak eventually. I don't think he's leaving."

"He's got Damar?" Bashir asked.

Sisko knew he didn't have to repeat himself, that Bashir knew the answer to the question but was just reiterating it. "I have an idea," Bashir continued. "Give me five minutes, then hail Weyoun and send it down here."

Exchanging a look with Dax that said 'trust him', Sisko closed the channel to Sickbay. After five minutes had gone by in which the two ships simply stared at each other, he motioned Dax to send the hail. In short order, Weyoun appeared on the screen grinning wickedly. "Is this a surrender, Captain?"

"Hardly. My doctor would like to speak with you."

"I'm not interested in your doctor." The Vorta's face became instantly serious, and his eyes lost the devious sparkle they held when he was being amiable, leaving nothing but cold steel blue. "I have one third of my request. In case you were wondering, I'm not satisfied. Turn over the other two and you will be free to return to your precious station. That is magnanimous of me, considering I could destroy you ... in fact, should destroy you." His demeanor was as if that thought had just occurred to him, "Why, the destruction of the Defiant would be the deciding event of this entire war. It would be a shame to let a prize like that get away...."

Ignoring Weyoun's vaguely threatening diatribe, Sisko told him, "He says it's important. I'll patch you through."

Bashir had positioned Garak in a chair facing the Sickbay's comm panel. He and Dukat stood behind him. When the screen flickered, then filled with Weyoun's image, Dukat spoke first. "Come now, Weyoun. Are the two of us really worth all this trouble?"

"Frankly, yes."

"I'm flattered. How about you, Garak?" Dukat and Garak looked at each other in mutual admiration. "Are you flattered?"

Garak nodded agreement, "Oh, most definitely."

Squinting at the screen a moment, Weyoun asked, "My dear Garak, have you been injured?"

While Bashir had taken care of the visible signs of his actual injury, he had taken a few moments to create more, including small but raw wounds on his throat. "Damar tried to kill me," Garak said truthfully. "He claims he was promised my execution."

"Exe --" Weyoun echoed. "I see." Turning to a Jem'Hadar soldier near him, he said quietly, "Have Damar brought to my office. I want to see him as soon as I'm through here." The soldier nodded and departed and Weyoun again turned his attention to the threesome on his screen. "Nothing could be further from the truth. Your position would be along the lines of political advisor. In fact, you could have Damar's position, if you'd like. He's proven himself completely unreliable."

"And just what do you expect to bribe me with, Weyoun?" Dukat's former job had been taken by Damar and now Weyoun had again given it to someone else.

"Ah, yes, Dukat. I would think returning to Cardassia Prime would be reward enough for you."

"It appears you have us confused."

Weyoun smiled slyly, "So it does."

Bashir, who had stood by silently as all this went on, broke in, "It also appears you haven't met with Damar since you beamed him aboard."

"That's correct. How did you guess?"

"Because you're still alive." Bashir's serious expression was not difficult to maintain.

"Excuse me?"

Putting one hand on Garak's left shoulder, Bashir explained, "You see, a while back, Garak contracted, uh, Delaban Fever." Silently, Bashir prayed that his 'uh' didn't give away that he was more or less making this up as he went along. "I pulled him through, but he is still considered a carrier for the next few days. There's a reason I've initiated a quarantine here. He shouldn't have left the station. It was too dangerous."

Suspiciously, Weyoun admitted, "I've never heard of Delaban Fever."

"There's no reason you would have. It's native to one system in the Alpha Quadrant, from which we had a visitor some time ago. In any case, when Damar attacked Garak he broke the skin and exposed himself to the same virus. You must quarantine him immediately. He's highly contagious right now." Bashir picked up a dataPADD and pretended to be referencing it, "According to my computer simulations, and if my information regarding Vorta physiology is correct, this virus is fatal to Vorta, and there is no vaccine."

"You're bluffing." Weyoun still wasn't buying this story.

Bashir concentrated on selling his own credibility, "I'm a doctor, sir. I take illness very seriously."

Weyoun hesitated a moment, but Bashir's expression never faltered. "What about the Jem'Hadar?" After all, he had a ship full of them, some of which had been escorting this infected Cardassian about the ship.

Again, Bashir played with the dataPADD, "I know even less about their physiology. My best guess is that it would drive them completely insane. It would interfere with their absorption of the Ketracel White. Now, I don't have any vaccine in stock even for Damar and with my equipment it would take days, maybe weeks, to formulate more. I can send you the formula I have. Perhaps your doctors would be able to adapt it."

The fear showing on his face, Weyoun looked stunned. "Yes, please send it." He was thinking quickly as he manipulated controls on various panels around him, "I'm setting the ship on a return course at maximum speed and locking it in, then I'll quarantine myself for the trip. If necessary, I can have the ship destroyed once I've been transported to safety. Thank you, Doctor."

"You're welcome. You may even get home in time to treat Damar and your Jem'Hadar. I'm sending the formula now. It's very complex."

"The file is received," Weyoun said. "Again, thank you. Weyoun out."

Immediately, the ship warped away from the Defiant.

The retreating image of Weyoun's ship was replaced by that of Sisko, smiling from ear to ear. "Brilliant job, Doctor! May I ask what you sent?"

"Exactly what I told them. A virus." Bashir's serious look was gone now. "Harmless, overall, but it should put their main computer out of commission for, oh, a week or so."

General Martok appeared on Sisko's communication screen. Sisko was back on DS9, where the Defiant was undergoing repairs and he'd finally had time to catch a breath. He'd already discussed the problem with the Romulan commander who now understood that any further insubordinate behavior while in the Defiant's sphere of influence would not be tolerated. "Why didn't you answer my hails?" he asked Martok, the anger in his voice crystal clear.

"Perhaps I should ask why you were defending the enemy?" Martok shot back. "I lost seven men thanks to you."

"I'm sorry about that, General," Sisko said sincerely. "But Damar was not in our space to attack us." He decided not to mention the fact that Damar had indeed threatened them with an attack.

Martok grunted, not believing Sisko. "It doesn't matter. Cardassians are the enemy. The rules of war --"

"Maybe in Klingon space, Martok, but this is Federation territory," Sisko said, cutting off Martok's speech before he got to the glory of battle and the honor of a valiant death. "Damar was only here to persuade Garak to return to Cardassia and defend his people. His mission did not warrant an unprovoked attack. But you would have known that if you had bothered to listen to me."

Martok, his one good eye opening wide, replied, "You would allow this infiltration of our space? This is war!"

"I'm aware of that, General," Sisko admitted. "But Federation rules of war do not condone unprovoked attacks. Nor do they condone radio silence in a battle zone where communication is of the utmost importance."

General Martok could not argue that point. "Granted," he said begrudgingly. "Do they condone firing on your allies?"

Frustrated with Martok's logical comeback, Sisko lowered his head. "I did what I deemed necessary. If you wish to file a complaint, you know the procedure." Then he raised his head again, "Nevertheless, I am in charge of this situation and I will deal with it as I see fit."

Martok felt it best to let the matter drop for now and changed the subject. "Garak?" He knew Garak pretty well, after spending some time with him in a Jem'Hadar prison a little over a year ago. Garak had performed admirably under dire circumstances. "Is he all right?"

"He suffered some injuries, but he will survive. He's decided not to return to Cardassia."

"Wise warriors choose what they defend," Martok replied. "I'm afraid my zeal for battle must have gotten the better of me, Captain. You must realize that my people fight with enthusiasm."

"Obviously," Sisko observed. "In the future, Martok, curb your enthusiasm. And answer your hails. I promise you, when there is a genuine battle to be fought, I'll let you know."

"I will return the favor, Captain Sisko. Martok out."

Some time later, Sisko faced a cell in Security. Dukat lounged on his sleeping platform, his head injury fully healed by Bashir's dermal regenerator. Seeing him, Dukat shifted to face the other way on his platform.

Sisko stopped in front of Dukat's cell. "Dukat, what do you have to say?"

Dukat looked up as if he hadn't been paying attention, "Say, Captain? What is there to say? I tried to save him."

Sisko took a deep breath and exhaled through his nose. "I won't pretend to understand your motivations here, Dukat. But I am recommending you be re-evaluated by Starfleet Medical. Despite their previous findings, I believe you are still not well. I'm sorry that --"

He was cut off by the door opening. Major Kira entered carrying a small dataPADD, which she handed to Captain Sisko. "The response from Cardassia Prime, Captain." She looked at the cell's occupant. If she took any delight in his situation, she kept it to herself. She waited patiently as Sisko read the communiquÉ.

"Sir, should I inform Garak?" Kira asked solemnly.

"I'll talk to him," Sisko said as he continued examining the PADD, hoping for better news. He left Security sure that the matter was out of his hands. Sisko moved down the corridor without looking where he was going. He scanned through the documents he'd been sent, extensive legal documents specifying each man by name, rank, almost everything but their DNA patterns. The Cardassian record-keeping skills were apparent. Everything in order. Just outside of the Infirmary, he reached the last page, which looked different than the others. He paused and leaned against the wall, trying to decipher the legalese.

Sisko stepped into the Infirmary to find Doctor Bashir hovering over his Cardassian patient. On hearing the door, Bashir turned. "Captain, he suffered three fractures to his neck ridges and a bruised larynx, but he'll be fine by tomorrow."

"That's good." Sisko didn't appear all that happy.

"Sir?" Bashir asked

"Garak, I have word from Cardassia Prime." He stepped up to the side of the biobed, gently tapping one hand with the dataPADD.

Garak stiffened. "And the word is?"

"They are requesting extradition proceedings for you and Dukat."

"Captain!" Bashir objected immediately, "You can't allow that!"

Garak lay in the bed, stunned by the news. After all this, he'd lost. He wished Damar had succeeded in his murder attempt. At least then, it would be over. He wasn't sure how much fight remained in him.

Then Bashir noticed Sisko's odd expression. Was that a mischievous grin? "Captain?"

Sisko wiped whatever it was from his face. He held the dataPADD toward Garak, "Here, you should read this."

"I'll take your word for it," Garak said sadly. Even from a distance, he could recognize the symbol of the Detapa Council on the screen of the dataPADD. He didn't have to see more.

"Take it," Sisko insisted, finally a full-fledged grin brightening his face, "it's a certificate of expatriation. You are no longer considered a Cardassian at all."

There was silence as Sisko's words sank in. Then Bashir and Garak slowly began to smile.

Some time later, Garak was sitting up in bed, sipping soup from a bowl on a tray. His cheek had been healed and only small bruises around his neck ridges gave testimony to his recent ordeal. Bashir sat nearby. "How are you feeling?"

"Will you please stop asking me that?"

"Garak, your people have just declared that you no longer belong with them in any legal sense of the word. Are you...disappointed? Angry? Overjoyed, even?" Other than his initial smile of relief, Garak had shown almost no emotional reaction since hearing the news.

"Relieved, if anything, Julian." Garak leaned back, forgetting about his bowl of soup for a moment. "All it means to me is that I can go back to living the life I've led for the last six years. Nothing's really changed. Exile, expatriation. Not much difference from this end."

"I suppose not," Bashir conceded. "Still, they wanted you before. Now they don't. I wonder why?" Bashir started thinking, his own question sparking a train of thought he hadn't considered before. "It's hard to believe they simply tired of the fight, after all that."

Garak crossed his hands in his lap, "Actually, Doctor, I've been giving quite a lot of thought to that, and it worries me."

"How so?"

"I've been trying to figure out what the council is up to. Why do they want me so badly, and why now?" Garak posed.

Bashir tilted his head, thinking. "Wasn't it because of what you know and because they need Cardassians to fight?"

"That's what I thought before, but it doesn't fit. They gave up. Let me go. That's not like the Detapa Council. There's something else to it. I think, more than likely, Doctor, it's just been postponed. They hoped the war effort would entice me to return on my own, I think. Instead, coming after me is just a diversion they can't afford to take right now. After the war's over, win or lose, they'll try again. Possibly even before the war is over."

"I don't follow you." Bashir admitted.

"Think about it, Julian," Garak prodded. "They think I know something so valuable that they don't want to risk endangering my life. They want to make sure they get that information, and right now it's too dangerous. Not for them. They wouldn't worry about one ship of Jem'Hadar soldiers. But for me. If they try to take me by force, I could be killed in the attack and they would never get a chance to question me. Damar lost control, trying to kill me outright. They won't let that happen again."

"So they set you free," Bashir reasoned, "to give you a false sense of security. To gain your trust, perhaps. So that when they decide to try again you will be more willing to co-operate?" Bashir kept thinking of the old saying, absence makes the heart grow fonder. And the old reverse psychology tactic. Deny someone something, and it makes them want it even more. Would the Detapa Council be capable of creating that situation on purpose? "Maybe even make going home even more desirable, now that it seems that option has been taken away. Would you ever want to go home now?"

Garak sighed, "I don't know, Julian. I really don't know. It's also possible that the Dominion is preparing to attack the station and the council wanted to get me safely off of DS9 before going through with it. It could be that my remaining here prevents them from such an attack. The only certainty is that they do want me back, expatriate or not. But they want me alive, at least at first, so they can learn whatever they think I know."

"But, like you keep saying, you don't know anything," Bashir pointed out.

"No, I don't."

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