Impact, Part II

[dark_sinestra]

Julian

Quark's Bar

 

Julian had been surprised when Captain Sisko approached him and Dax at their table, asking to join them. It wasn't as though the three of them never socialized, but the captain usually liked for such things to be planned and not spontaneous. It quickly became obvious that he was after more than just company when he spoke of his recent, somewhat disastrous exchange with Kasidy Yates, a woman he had been seeing with more frequency of late.

 

Although he tried to be diplomatic, Julian privately felt the captain truly had bungled the conversation. When a woman announced that she would be moving somewhere her romantic partner lived, “It's a big step,” wasn't exactly an encouraging response. In his experience with such situations, complete and abject apology was usually the best route to take, unless of course, one wanted the woman in question to go away.

 

He and Dax both did their best to help. In the end, they were left wondering what Sisko intended to do. Dax looked at him after the captain was out of earshot. “So, just between you and me,” he asked her, “what do you really think about Kasidy moving onto the station?”

 

She mulled it over for a bit. “It's a big step,” she said finally.

 

“A very big step,” he agreed. He wondered if Sisko truly was ready to take it. He knew that he still had lingering issues over his wife's death, something natural in such circumstances, and there was the added complication of Jake.

 

“Speaking of big steps,” she said, giving him a nudge, “how are things going with you and Leeta? You seem to be spending an awful lot of time together.”

 

He took a swig of his drink. “Not when you consider how much she works,” he said.

 

Dax sat back in her seat, folding her arms and favoring him with a raised eyebrow. “And you don't?” she asked, smirking. “Please, don't say 'that's different', because you know it isn't.”

 

“It is when you consider I actually receive fair compensation for the work I do and adequate recognition,” he said somewhat defensively.

 

“So if she was doing something that paid better and people appreciated more, you'd be fine with how much she's working?” she asked, clearly skeptical.

 

“I'd feel better about it,” he said. “Look, it's about more than just how many hours she works or how much time we have for one another. She's constantly stressed out. Over half the time she has to badger Quark just to give her what he actually owes her. I care about her. I don't like to see her treated that way.”

 

“Hmm,” she said, eying him curiously.

 

“Hmm?” he asked. He never liked her “hmm's”. They usually came with a laser judgment that while more often than not accurate was something he rarely wanted to hear.

 

“I just find it telling that you say you care about her, but you don't say you love her.”

 

“When you think about it, it's not as though we've been dating for a long time, just a few months now,” he said, feeling defensive. What did it matter if he didn't love Leeta yet? He had stayed with her longer than he had with most people. After what he went through with Garak, he thought it nothing short of miraculous that he was willing to try a relationship with anyone at all. Who was Dax to lecture him when she was single? He decided it was high time to go on the offensive. “What about you? When are you going to act on your obvious attraction to a certain Lieutenant Commander?”

 

“We aren't talking about me. We're talking about you,” she deflected. “Do you really want to talk about obvious attractions?”

 

“You lost me,” he said, blinking at her in confusion.

 

“Did I?” she asked with such a significant look that it hit him suddenly. She was talking about Garak.

 

“Jadzia,” he cautioned.

 

“Julian,” she retorted, an impish light in her blue eyes.

 

He sighed in defeat. He should have known better than even to try to play this game with her. She was far too good at it. “I'm not going to sit here and try to pretend that there's no longer an attraction. As far as I'm concerned, that's natural. We were together a long time. We have a lot of history. Something like that doesn't just go away overnight. It doesn't mean I intend to revisit old territory. We've both moved past that.”

 

She looked utterly unconvinced. “Uh huh,” she said.

 

He made an impatient noise. “Be as skeptical as you like. It doesn't mean you're right,” he said crossly. “I'm with Leeta now, and that's the end of the discussion as far as I'm concerned.”

 

“Fine,” she said, holding up a conciliatory hand. “I didn't mean to make you angry. Speaking of that, have you patched things up with Miles yet?”

 

“How did you know about that?” he asked, startled.

 

She smiled serenely. “You ought to know by now that precious little happens on this station without my awareness.”

 

“You're as bad as a Betazoid,” he said sourly.

 

“I'm going to take that as a compliment,” she said, her smile inching wider.

 

“Well,” he said sweetly, “if you know so much, you should already know about me and Miles.” He smiled as her expression soured. It was so rare that he actually got one over on her, he was determined to savor the moment to the fullest, which included ordering a fresh drink.

 

Kira

Dozaria

 

It quickly became clear to both Kira and Dukat that the Ravinok didn't just crash but quite possibly was shot down, judging from phaser fire scarring of the hull. After just a little bit of arguing, they determined that Kira would handle trying to wrangle information from the sand choked computer systems and consoles of the Ravinok while Dukat handled the twelve graves they discovered in the sand and grit. Although she didn't understand Cardassian obsession with privacy for their dead, she did understand the importance of ritual. She decided that the least that she could do was to be respectful of Dukat's beliefs. It wasn't as though she was particularly eager to dig into graves, at any rate.

 

The ship was a total mess. She doubted that she'd be able to get much of anything out of it, or even if she'd be able to reactivate most of the systems, but she had to try. More than ever, she wanted to know the fate of her friend Lorit and all the other Bajoran prisoners carried on this ship. She got down to the dirty, gritty work of prying open access panels and trying to clean away enough debris to get decent connections.

 

The wind continued its incessant howl, scouring the half buried hull with hissing grit. Kira continuously blinked stinging sand from her watering eyes, sweat soaking through her thick uniform and making it cling to her uncomfortably. Ignoring her own discomfort as much as she could, she worked doggedly at the various control systems, hoping for a little luck more than anything else. She spared little thought for Dukat at the grave site. She would be able to examine any earrings he found and compare them to a list. To the possible dead Cardassians, she gave no thought at all.

 

After some time, she managed to clean a coupling well enough to attach one of the main cables. To her satisfaction, lights came up and the system hummed to life. “Hello, Ravinok,” she muttered to herself, standing and dusting her pants off, then approaching the console to see what she could access. As information streamed across the console, she hooked a PADD to one of the ports she had cleaned and downloaded what she needed.

 

She took it in hand and left the ship. “Dukat, I was able to reactivate the—” She cut off mid-sentence as she saw him, slumped on the ground with something in his hand, his shoulders shaking. Was he? He couldn't be crying. “Dukat...” She stepped closer, her brow furrowing.

 

“It's nothing,” he said quickly, “nothing at all,” but he couldn't hide the tears in his eyes, and he couldn't wipe them away fast enough.

 

Kira took what he held in his hand and recognized it for what it was, a Bajoran pledge bracelet. She was too taken aback to give him anything other than her natural reaction, sympathy at his plight. Garak had been right after all. Dukat had an ulterior motive for coming all this way, although it was probably far more benign than Garak would have expected. “Who was she?” she asked gently.

 

He tried to put her off, but she'd have none of it. She finally got the story out of him, that he was in love with this woman, Tora Naprem. She might have had a harder time accepting that at face value were it not for the fact that she found him initially overcome with his grief. Even now, he was very reluctant to discuss the issue, deflecting her attention from it by handing her seven Bajoran earrings. Much to her relief, none of them belonged to her friend. Wherever he was, alive or dead, he had not met his fate in this spot.

 

She shared her findings with him from the ship, that it had been attacked by two unknown warships, and they tried to decide what to do next. Scanning from orbit was no good. The same ionic field that made it impossible for them to beam down would interfere with any scans and render the data meaningless. She didn't like having to reveal any secrets to him from the occupation, but she had no choice. She told him of the implants resistance fighters had and activated when captured, and she then scanned to see if she could pick up any readings on her tricorder. Much to her satisfaction, she did. “I think I've got something,” she said. “That way.” She pointed.

 

Dukat carefully tucked the bracelet into his pack and stood, shouldering it. “Let's go,” he said, immediately beginning to walk.

 

He set a rapid pace. Kira found his doggedness strange in the face of their discoveries. If anything, she would expect someone so grief stricken to be less determined, possibly even difficult to motivate. Maybe he's different, she thought as she followed, noting that he no longer seemed to care if she was at his back or not. She was still having a hard time adjusting to the thought of him actually loving a Bajoran at all, much less grieving her loss.

 

When night fell, darkness descended rapidly. The temperature dropped several degrees, and the night sky was pitch black. Just because they hadn't yet discovered major terrain issues didn't mean that they wouldn't or couldn't. Despite being eager to see who might have survived, Kira decided that it was a good time to stop and set up camp. “Hey, Dukat,” she said, “come back and help me. It's time to set up camp for the night.”

 

“Don't be ridiculous,” his voice came from the darkness. “I'm fine, and so are you. It's cooler now. I'd think that would make it easier on you.”

 

He sounded strangely testy. “Be that as it may,” she said, trying to be patient in light of what had happened earlier, “I think it's time to stop. This is my mission, remember?”

 

She heard him hiss and the crunch of his boots over the sand as he approached her. At least he wasn't directly disobeying her and forcing her to play catch up in the darkness. She took out a portable light and set it up. Instead of helping her, he just paced restlessly back and forth. “I don't understand why we have to stop,” he said, sounding almost petulant.

 

He was worse than dealing with a child, she thought. Still trying to be patient, she explained her reasoning and managed to convince him to sit down near the heater, only to have him cry out in pain and writhe around on the ground with both hands clutching his buttocks. She didn't want to laugh. She truly didn't. Clamping down hard with her lips, she managed to get him to let her see what was wrong. An enormous spine protruded, buried well in his posterior. Wincing in sympathy, she warned him that removing it was going to hurt then gave a good twist and a yank. “Ow,” she said ruefully.

 

She found her dermal regenerator and handed it to him then watched him try to treat himself. Her pinched look gave way to a smile, her smile to laughter. She just couldn't help it. He looked so ridiculous!

 

“It's not funny!” he said crossly.

 

“It is from this angle,” she said, laughing harder.

 

To her surprise, he started to laugh as well. “You know what's even funnier?” he asked. “It's not working!”

 

Almost in tears, she realized he hadn't turned it on. “You have to activate it first,” she managed to choke out.

 

When he began to heal himself, she finally got hold of herself. The whole trip had been so odd so far, but now that things had taken such an unexpected turn at the grave site, she was finding it harder to heed Garak's advice. She could no longer see Dukat as the symbol of the occupation and everything that had been so wrong with it, at least no longer just as that. She was starting to see him as more, as a person, and it was disconcerting. His attitude toward her had changed, too. When had that happened? She couldn't even say. She dug in her pack for field rations and tossed him one. As the two began to eat, she brought up something that had been bothering her ever since she found him weeping over the bracelet, and he told her who the woman it belonged to had been. “Tell me something. Who's Tora Ziyal?”

 

He stopped chewing mid-bite and simply looked at her. She pressed on, explaining that she found the name in the manifest, along with the crew and prisoners two civilians, Tora Naprem and Tora Ziyal, a thirteen year old girl.

 

“I suppose you wouldn't believe me if I told you she was Naprem's sister?” he said reluctantly.

 

“Ziyal is a Cardassian name,” she pressed. “The way I see it, there's only one explanation. Ziyal was Naprem's daughter, and...”

 

“And I was her father,” he said.

 

“Now I know why you're in such a hurry to find the survivors,” she said, feeling relieved at finally having discovered the motivation behind his strange behavior ever since they located the Ravinok. “You're hoping she's still alive so you can rescue her.”

 

“Not quite,” he said, his blue-gray eyes catching the camp light and glittering. “You see, if my daughter is still alive, I'll have no choice but to kill her.” Without another word, he set the remainder of his rations aside and rolled over with his back to her, effectively ending the conversation for the night.

 

Kira felt gut punched. That was the last thing she expected him to say. Stupid, she said to herself. You were stupid for letting your guard down. Garak warned you. Not that in the bigger scheme of things that meant all that much to her, but the fact remained. Dukat was the former Prefect of Bajor. He was responsible for countless deaths and atrocities. In light of that, why should she be surprised to discover he had murderous intent toward a family member, particularly one who was half Bajoran?

 

She was reluctant to sleep around him, yet she knew she needed the rest. Always a very light sleeper, she decided to trust to her instincts and abilities to see her through this, lying down and settling in. It was difficult to find sleep, though. She kept thinking of the unknown girl, Ziyal. One thing was certain. She'd kill Dukat before she'd let him touch a hair on that girl's head. If he thought otherwise, he was sadly mistaken.

 

Garak

Private Quarters

 

It had been a long time since Garak had poked so deeply into the station computer system. He was almost certain he had tripped one or two of Odo's security protocols. It didn't matter much. Odo could hardly fault him or be too irritated with him for trying to dig into Dukat's background and activities there. The system purge when the Cardassians left had been fairly thorough, but not complete. The Fleeters had done more to dump and eradicate the rest of the files, particularly after the self-destruct scare. There wasn't much to go on.

 

Undeterred, Garak had next contacted one of the few people he had left on Cardassia with possible relevant information and almost as much reason to dislike Dukat as he had. He had been told that the man would look into it and had been waiting for a little over a day to hear back. He had almost given up hope of having his request actually taken seriously when he received an encrypted and cryptic message. “Possible family ties,” was all it said. Well, that could mean almost anything, couldn't it?

 

After giving it more thought, he decided that perhaps he wasn't completely out of resources. He got dressed to go out, despite the late hour, and made his way to the Security office. Odo glanced up at him from his desk. “I should thank you for saving me the trouble of bringing you in to question,” Odo said, gesturing for Garak to sit down. “Give me one reason I shouldn't lock you up for your recent excavations into our system.”

 

“I was doing it for Major Kira,” Garak said simply. He smiled in satisfaction at Odo's expression. He knew he had him.

 

The shape shifter wasn't going to let up quite so easily, however. “You expect me to believe that the major came to you and asked you to poke around in the computer?” he demanded.

 

“Constable, I said no such thing,” he said, adopting a wounded manner. Odo folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. He knew that his patience was already wearing thin. Garak tried a slightly different tack. “She came to me before she left on her mission with Dukat. She was...concerned...about his attitude toward her.”

 

Odo unfolded his arms and leaned toward Garak. “I'm concerned about that, as well,” he admitted, looking wary.

 

“As you should be,” Garak said, nodding and widening his eyes slightly.

 

“All right, Garak,” Odo relented. “I'm assuming you didn't come here to confess to me something you had to be aware I already knew, so why are you here?”

 

“Dukat was fairly thorough in erasing records involving him and his activities here,” Garak said. “However, I find his interest in the Ravinok strange. I'm not the only one. You knew Dukat during the occupation. Is there something in particular about that ship that would spark his interest above and beyond the fact that he was the commanding officer when it went missing?” Odo's expression grew more guarded. Garak watched him sharply. He knew something. He was almost certain of it. “I don't need to tell you how dangerous he can be,” he said reasonably.

 

“I...can't help you, Garak,” Odo said reluctantly.

 

“As I said, this isn't for me,” Garak retorted. So what if it was a lie, or at least not the entire truth? He actually was somewhat concerned about the major's safety in regard to this.

 

“There's nothing you can do to help Major Kira,” Odo said in such a way that Garak knew he'd get nowhere with him.

 

Garak stood abruptly, irritated. “I hope for her sake and yours that you're right about that,” he said. “If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were actually protecting Dukat.”

 

Odo shot him an icy glare. “Then I'd say it's a good thing you do know better. I have work to do, Garak. Don't make me change my mind about my decision to let your computer indiscretion slide.”

 

Garak inclined his head slightly and left. That went nowhere. Still, he wasn't completely without any recourse. Smiling grimly to himself, he headed further down the Promenade and dove into the madness of the night crowd at Quark's, something that he would usually avoid like the Rigellian flu if he could help it. If anyone knew about personal details he shouldn't know, it was Quark. The only question was how to motivate him to tell what he knew without winding up in his debt. Devious gears turned in his mind as he approached the bar, allowing his irritation to show.

 

“Garak,” Quark said when he saw him, moving closer, “what brings you to my humble establishment tonight? I don't usually see you at this time.”

 

“I don't usually need a drink so close to bedtime,” Garak said, making sure he sounded put out. “Kanar, please, and keep them coming until I say otherwise.”

 

Quark looked a little concerned. “You feeling OK? You're not going to get...agitated on me, are you?”

 

“No,” he said. “Honestly, it hurts me that you'd even bring that time up. As often as Morn gets raucous and fights, I'd think you'd be far more concerned over his drinking than mine.”

 

Quark shook his head and handed Garak his kanar. “When Morn gets out of sorts, people get black eyes or smashed fingers. When you get out of sorts, it's just as likely somebody will die, and it's just as likely that someone will be me,” he said.

 

“I'd never kill you unless I had to,” Garak assured him, downing his kanar and gesturing for another.

 

“How...comforting,” Quark said dryly. “So what is it that has you so out of sorts, anyway? Pining over the handsome doctor?”

 

“I don't pine,” Garak said primly. “No, I'm afraid this is much more serious,” he said gravely. He paused, glanced to either side, and lowered his voice. “Possibly a matter of life and death. Really, I shouldn't be talking to you about it. If Odo wouldn't take it seriously, why would you?”

 

Quark snorted. “Odo isn't nearly as good as he thinks he is. Who's in danger?”

 

Garak shook his head and took a long swallow of his kanar. “Forget I said anything,” he said. “I insist. It's bad enough I almost got myself arrested over this. You don't need to be in trouble, too. You have thirsty customers. Be a good man, and just leave me that bottle of kanar. I'll tend to myself well enough.”

 

He could tell that Quark was about to burst with curiosity, as well as a desire to one up Odo, the Ferengi's blue eyes darting between him and the customers with torn intent. Grumbling to himself, Quark walked away from Garak to tend to a Bajoran couple who had started to look impatient. Garak drank steadily and deliberately. His alcohol tolerance was still abnormally high, likely a lingering side effect of his permanently changed brain chemistry thanks to the wire. Quark didn't know that, nor did he ever intend for him to find out. He adopted a troubled, brooding look as he watched the rest of the bar activity.

 

Over time, the crowd began to thin. Garak swayed very slightly in his seat and gave a bleary blink into his almost empty kanar glass. Quark reached across the bar and plucked it deftly from his hand. “Let me get that for you,” he said, pouring the last of the kanar from the bottle into it and handing it back to Garak. “Now, Garak,” he said reasonably, “it's clear whatever is going on is really troubling you. You said Odo wouldn't take it seriously. Why not?”

 

Garak blinked owlishly at him and said overly loudly, “I don't know. It doesn't make sense given how he feels.”

 

“How he feels about what?” the Ferengi asked, leaning closer.

 

“Don't we have breakfast together almost every day?” Garak asked plaintively.

 

“You do,” Quark nodded. “I don't understand it, but you do. What does that have to do with anything?”

 

“Everything,” Garak said. “I'm...trying to be a friend. That's what friends do, right? Look out for each other and each other's...friends?”

 

Quark sighed. “I'm really not following you. I think you've had too much kanar. You should probably go sleep it off.”

 

Garak grasped his forearm. “I bet you know,” he said gravely. “You were here during the occupation. You heard things about Dukat.”

 

“Who didn't?” Quark asked offhandedly. He suddenly seemed to get it. “This is about Major Kira, isn't it? Isn't she on some sort of joint mission with him?”

 

“She is,” Garak said, nodding too vigorously. “Now you see. Think about it.” He let Quark's arm go, only to tap his index finger on the bar top emphatically and narrow his eyes. “Why would a Legate come all the way from Cardassia to investigate the disappearance of a Bajoran prison transport, unless someone important to him was on that transport? Someone he didn't want anyone else to know about? Someone he wouldn't want Kira to know about?”

 

“You know,” Quark said thoughtfully, “there were rumors of a comfort woman he got...a little too close to. Some of the guards would talk about it sometimes when they didn't think I could hear them. No offense, Garak, but you Cardassians can't really whisper to save your lives. There were even rumors of a child. I didn't give it much credence at the time. Dukat hardly seemed the type, but...”

 

Garak was no longer listening. He had already stood and strode halfway across the bar before Quark called out to him, “Hey! You didn't pay!”

 

“Make me a tab,” Garak retorted, not slowing for one moment. He needed to make another contact on Cardassia. If what Quark said had even a remote possibility of being true, he needed to get some balls rolling before Dukat had a chance to get back and cover anything up. Of course, this also meant that Major Kira was in much more danger than he initially realized. However, as Odo had said, there was nothing he could do about that now except to hope that she took his sincere warnings to heart.