Title: Crossback
Author: Kathryn Ramage
Series: DS9 (AU)
Codes: G/B, alt-G/B, G/alt-B, and just a touch of S/alt-Jen
Rating: NC-17 for the opening scene, although there are also some rough alt-G/B scenes later on.

Summary: A sequel to my alternate alternate-universe story, "Images in a Broken Mirror." After the Terran rebels succeed in capturing Terek Nor, Intendant Garak crosses over to DS9 and kidnaps Bashir.

Setting: Near the end of the 3rd season, soon after Part II of "Images in a Broken Mirror," but before the episodes "Improbable Cause/The Die is Cast," and "Explorers." Once again, the alt-characters featured here are not the same as the ones that appear in DS9's later Mirror episodes.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek, DS9, and the characters. This story was written purely for entertainment purposes.

The poem quoted in the first section is "The Lady's Yes," by Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1844).

Copyright June 2000

/~i~/

Since Bashir's return from the alternate universe, his relationship with Garak had been progressing slowly from lunch dates to dinner at Quark's, to dinner in his quarters. And Garak had been staying later and later each evening.

They were on the sofa that night, Julian lying nestled with one of Garak's arms around him while the tailor read selected poems of Elizabeth Barrett Browning from a datapadd:

"Lead her from the festive boards, Point her to the starry skies, Guard her, by your truthful words, Pure from courtship's flatteries."

Bashir's choice, but if Garak had any critical comments, he kept them to himself. He finished:

"And her Yes, once said to you, Shall be Yes for evermore."

Then he handed Bashir the padd and announced, "Doctor, it is growing late," before easing Julian off his chest.

As he sat up, Julian turned around to face his companion. "Do you have to go?" he asked wistfully.

Garak studied the doctor's forlorn face before he leaned forward to bestow a quick kiss. "No, I don't have to," he replied. "Why don't you read one more poem? I'll have another drink. And perhaps we can discuss whether or not you will let me spend the night?"

Bashir was caught unprepared by this suggestion. Up until now, Garak had allowed him to advance at his own pace; the tailor had only prompted him once before, after their first private dinner. He'd been hesitant, awkward, uncertain how to let his friend know that he wanted to take their relationship one step further, and Garak had made it easy for him by asking, "May I kiss you?" Julian had only to give his consent.

Garak must have noticed that he'd been inventing excuses to detain him these past few nights, and thought he needed another push. But it wasn't as easy to consent this time. "Garak, I-"

"You do want me to?"

He did...and he didn't. He thought that he was falling in love and, after all the time they'd spent together lately, he knew he wanted to be closer. And yet he was reluctant to take this step.

At the heart of the matter, he knew he was afraid that, if they actually tried to make love, he wouldn't be able to go through with it. What if he were overwhelmed by unwanted memories of what that other Garak had done? What if he panicked? It had happened once before, when Garak had tried to touch him in less intimate circumstances. After they'd both worked so hard to reach a point where he was comfortable with Garak again, he couldn't stand another disastrous setback.

"I'd like you to stay," Julian tried to explain. "It's just that I- I don't know how far I can go. I don't want to lead you on with false expectations."

"I have no expectations."

"But you want to go to bed with me?"

"Oh, yes."

This brought a soft smile. "You're being extraordinarily patient then."

"I have learned to be patient to get what I want," Garak told him frankly. "I've waited a long time for you, my Julian. You are far too important to me-" a second kiss, "to risk spoiling things now by moving too quickly."

Julian had suspected for some time how deeply Garak felt about him, but it was gratifying to hear him say it out loud. "All right," he decided. "You can stay the night."

When they prepared for bed, Garak replicated a long, loose- fitted sleeping robe of traditional Cardassian design, and Julian put on his own pajamas. In spite of Garak's assurances, he didn't want to be too provocative; the modest outfit that covered him from collar to ankles seemed like the perfect thing.

He climbed into bed beside the tailor. They kissed once, and he snuggled down with his head resting on Garak's chest.

For awhile, he lay comfortably in the tailor's arms, soothed by the slow heartbeat, the rise and fall of each breath, and the fingers that stroked lightly between his shoulderblades. They didn't speak, and Garak made no move to take him any further. Julian was impressed: he knew how much Garak wanted him--it frightened him a little--but this show of restraint made him realize that nothing was going to happen tonight unless he wanted it to.

Feeling adventurous, his fingers sought the opening on the sleeping robe and stole between the panels of soft fabric. He lifted his head for another kiss, then Garak, who had been waiting for him to make the first move, tugged open the collar of his pajamas to nuzzle his throat.

There had been some tentative touching before this, but the intimacy of the situation and their loose clothing gave them more freedom to explore. The kisses deepened. Caresses grew more bold. Julian's reluctance evaporated. The rest of the buttons on his pajama top were opened one by one, and it wasn't long before he'd wriggled out of the bottoms.

That Cardassian robe, he discovered, opened all the way down the front--the sensation of scaled skin against the length of his own body was surprisingly and unbearably arousing. They rubbed, hard, against each other and, with the hardness, an effusion of cool, slick, natural lubrication moistened his thighs; he moved slightly to part them.

He rolled, bringing Garak on top of him, and whispered, "Gently, Elim."

Garak pulled away to look at him. "You're quite certain? You know you don't have to-"

"No, I want to," he answered. "Please." More than a desire; he needed to prove to himself that he could do this. If they were able to be together this way, then he would know their relationship had not been blighted. He could finally banish the last of those ugly memories.

There was some hasty preparation between more kisses, shedding of clothes, rearranging of pillows, and shifting to find a comfortable position.

And then it was happening. He felt a flutter of anxiety at the presence pushing in between his legs--remembering the other Garak doing this to him more forcefully--and he shut his eyes tightly and held his breath as it slid slowly deeper inside him. He had expected pain, but there wasn't any. There wasn't much of anything else, for that matter. Garak was taking that 'gently' very seriously indeed!

This couldn't be much fun for him either, Julian thought; the poor man must be terrified. He had to let Elim know that it really was all right to make love to him.

As he pulled Garak's head down to say something encouraging, Julian's lips brushed the cartilaginous ridge beneath the tailor's earlobe. He recalled some advice he'd once been given:

*He likes it when you nibble on those scales under his ears.*

Julian tried it. Taking the ridge between his teeth, he bit down experimentally. The response was remarkable: Garak caught him up, lifting him off the mattress with a single energetic thrust that brought his mouth away from the Cardassian's neck with an astonished cry and sent him into the pillows. Garak was on him immediately, covering him with kisses, sweeping him up into that passion he had provoked. Julian could only hang on.

Yes, that was much better.

Afterwards, as Bashir curled up in his lover's arms, Garak asked, "How did you learn to do that?"

"Someone told me you would like it. Do you?"

"Hmn...yes. But you really shouldn't bite so hard."

"I didn't hurt you?" He reached up to examine the ridge, but Garak quickly captured his hand.

"No, but you must realize that that spot is one of the more sensitive areas on a Cardassian male's body--a sharp blow on the nerve cluster there can be painful, even debilitating, but a more discerning touch can trigger a...powerful response of a different kind. I could never forgive myself if I were to lose control and inadvertently injure you. Whoever taught you..." Garak started up and regarded him with incredulity. "It wasn't my counterpart?"

"Oh, no!" Julian hastened to assure him. "If you must know, it was _my_ counterpart."

The tailor seemed relieved at this information, but he was still curious. "You didn't tell me you'd met him."

Julian sighed. "He wasn't a mirror-image I was happy to face. He was a prostitute and a spy, one of the Terran rebels."

"He sounds like a fascinating young man. Can I assume that at least one of these professions brought him into contact with that other Garak?"

"Mhm. But, please, let's not talk about them." While he could handle a certain amount of joking, Julian was not entirely comfortable with this subject. "It spoils the mood."

"Yes, my dear, of course."

Julian snuggled close again. "It's over now, Elim. I'd prefer to forget all about it."

/~*~/

After Garak left him in the early hours of the morning, Julian lay happily contemplating the enormous change this new relation- ship would bring into his life. Tonight, he felt loved. He felt more at peace in his own mind than he had in months. He and Garak would be together after all; the horrible thing that had been done to him would not always lie between them. Every- thing was going to be all right...

He was on the brink of sleep when the door to his quarters whisked open. Julian lifted his head and blinked drowsily at the familiar silhouette in the bedroom doorway.

"Elim? Why'd you come back?"

"I couldn't stay away," Garak answered as he approached the bed. He stood over Julian, one hand stroking the doctor's bare shoulder. "After all this time, I find it impossible to think of anything but you." Abruptly, he grabbed Bashir and pulled him up from the mattress to crush him into a kiss.

The kiss told him. Throughout their courtship, Garak had been extremely careful with him; even tonight, in his most passionate moments, the Cardassian had not forgotten that he was stronger and hardier than his human lover. But the lips on his now were hard and bruising. This man didn't care if he hurt him or not.

This wasn't his Garak.

Julian began to struggle against the arms that held him too tightly and tried to kick through the blanket tangled around his legs. He cried out once, and a swift cuff to his temple knocked him out.

/~*~/

At 0720, Sisko went to the Infirmary to look for his doctor, who had failed to appear at the morning staff meeting. As he crossed from the turbolift, Garak, on the Promenade, moved to intercept him.

"Commander Sisko!" the tailor called out. "If you're looking for Dr. Bashir, I'm afraid you won't find him."

"Well, where is he?"

"I can't tell you."

"Garak..." Sisko said impatiently, not in the mood for Cardassian games.

"Commander, I don't _know_." It was only then that Sisko heard the note of genuine anxiety in Garak's voice. "I've been to his quarters. He isn't there. He hasn't been to the Infirmary this morning either."

Sisko's first action was to confirm this. "Computer, locate Dr. Bashir."

[Dr. Bashir is not on the station.]

"I've just come from the Security Office," Garak added, "but perhaps the Bajoran deputy on duty will be more receptive if he hears from _you_."

"All right, I'll have Odo-" Sisko began, when he caught a glimpse of a strangely familiar face in the crowd on the Promenade.

A young human male was headed purposefully toward them. If Sisko didn't know better, he would have said that this was his missing doctor attempting a disguise: Except for the short- trimmed beard, the casual civilian clothes, and the long hair that curled around his ears and over the nape of his neck, he looked enough like Bashir to be his twin brother.

But the true relationship was even closer than that.

Garak turned to see what had distracted Sisko, and gaped as the young man drew nearer to them.

Jules Bashir gave the Cardassian a bashful glance, but his message was for Sisko: "Commander, O'Brien sent me to find you. It's about Intendant Garak--he's crossed over."

/~ii~/

Bashir didn't know how long he had been unconscious. When he opened his eyes, he lay on a cold metal floor, gritty with uridium dust. Nor did he know where he was. The small room he'd been brought to had a Cardassian look to it: the inter- face on the control panel near the door, the shapes of the disused conduits that slanted up from floor to ceiling at a variety of angles. One, huge, horizontal duct crossed the wall behind him a half-meter above the floor and, through it, he could hear the distant, humming vibration of machinery. A ship's engines? The generator of a space station--but which one? DS9 or Terek Nor?

The room was lit only by the faint yellowish glow of the emergency panels, but he knew he had not been left alone. The other Garak stood hidden amidst the tangle of conduits. Julian could hear soft, regular breathing, and he soon found the outline of the humanoid shape as a darker entity within the amber-tinted shadows. The star that lit Cardassia Prime was dimmer than Earth's sun; their vision was attuned to lower levels of light. Garak could see him better than he could be seen--the Cardassian must have observed that he was awake now, but remained disturbingly silent.

Aware of the eyes upon him, Julian sat up, and winced at a sharp pain at his temple. His hand went to the lump on the side of his head, where Intendant Garak had struck him.

"I am sorry," the familiar voice spoke from the shadows. "But, you see, I knew you wouldn't agree to come with me voluntarily." The Cardassian stepped out into the pale light. He was not wearing a Guls' uniform, but a plain, black suit with a disruptor tucked into a broad, pocketed belt. "I don't want to be cruel to you, Bashir, but as long as you resist me, you leave me no other choice."

Clutching his blanket protectively, Julian glared up at his captor and demanded, "What do you want, Garak?" Fear made his voice sharp, but he was determined not to give into it and let this man see just how frightened he was.

"Can't you guess? I came for you." He crouched to face his prisoner. "I've thought a lot about you since our last encounter, Bashir. You've been to my universe twice--I thought it would only be polite if I repaid the visit. I had to find out if I occupied your thoughts as often as you have mine."

"And so you brought me here to have another go."

"Oh, eventually," the Intendant replied. "You and I will be spending a lot of time together."

"I'll fight you."

"You fought before," he was smugly reminded. "It didn't do you any good. It won't be different this time." He chuckled. "But why this pretense? I had my hopes that I would be remembered, but I must say, the nature of your 'friendship' with your Garak came as an encouraging surprise."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Bashir answered guardedly.

"Then your good friend 'Elim' is accustomed to 'come back' to your bedroom in the middle of the night? It's no use lying--I _know_ you've been with him." He leaned closer, face brushing centimeters from Bashir's collarbone so that the doctor recoiled. "I can still smell him on you. If I were to take you now, I'd find you slick with his seed. I have to believe that _I_ had something to do with this taste you've developed for Cardassian lovers."

"If we are together," Julian retorted, "it's in spite of what you did to me--not because of it! It was very hard for me to get over that. If my Garak-" He couldn't bear to call his lover and this man by the same name; it was difficult enough seeing the same face. "If Elim hadn't been so wonderful and understanding-"

"So wonderful and understanding," the Intendant echoed mockingly, "that you give yourself to him willingly, while you spurn _me_. What is the difference?" He sat on the floor in front of Bashir. "Enlighten me--I'm genuinely curious about this 'wonderful' Mr. Garak whose company you prefer so much to mine."

"I've told you why."

The Intendant ignored this. "I want to know more about him. Is he an officer in your Terran empire?"

"No," Bashir answered. "He's a civilian. A tailor."

"Not a man of military rank or political influence," the Cardassian mused; he sounded disappointed. "He lives on your station, this humble tailor, to be near you..." Julian did not correct the mistaken assumption. "He must be extremely attached to you."

"Yes, he is. My Elim cares for me. He cares what I feel. All _you_ know how to do is capture and violate." Bashir expected to be slapped for this, but the Intendant appeared to give his remarks serious consideration.

"Do you think I enjoy hurting you?" he responded, "I wouldn't, if you would only learn how to submit. I can be generous. I treated your counterpart very well."

"I can imagine," Julian said drily. "As long as he did what- ever you wanted. But what happened when he didn't?"

"My Jules was always accommodating, no matter what I required of him. I never had to rebuke him for disobedience." The Intendant leaned close again. "Do you know, he was so well- behaved a slave that when he disappeared, I thought the Terran rebels had stolen him and put _you_ in his place to spy on me --as if I wouldn't notice the difference between one Bashir and another. I didn't see the truth until it was too late. Jules was working for the rebels, wasn't he?"

"O'Brien trained him specially and put him where you would find him," Julian told him. "Your obedient slave was sending reports to the rebellion right under your nose."

Jules had been right: there was satisfaction in telling Intendant Garak what a fool he'd made of himself. But that satisfaction came with a price. Before he saw it coming, he was seized by both shoulders and shoved back, slammed repeatedly against the hard metal of the duct behind him until one of the hatches fell off and clattered on the floor, and he saw stars.

As he lay sprawled, the Intendant reached for him again. Bashir yelped and kicked out; his foot landed on the solid chest and he shoved the Cardassian away. Intendant Garak caught him by the ankle and thrust his knee back against his own chest.

"We've played this game before. Have you forgotten? We agreed then that I can do anything I want with you. The sooner you accept that, the better off you'll be. You might even enjoy yourself--I think you'll find I can be your Garak's equal...or more." He smiled pointedly as he pressed forward.

Julian glared back, his entire body trembling with terror and a hatred for this man he would have once found impossible to believe himself capable of. "You are _not_ my Garak," he spat defiantly, "and I will _never_ be your accommodating, well- behaved Jules."

The Intendant's face darkened as his own words were flung back at him; he looked ready to slam Bashir into the wall again, but restrained himself. "You will."

And then he let go.

"Eventually," he promised as Julian scrambled free. "But that isn't the only reason why I wanted you, Bashir. You can give me a great deal of information about your universe: I need to understand it, before I can change it."

/~*~/

The DS9 senior staff convened in Ops half an hour later than scheduled. Kira, Dax, and O'Brien were there promptly at 0730; Odo was notably absent, and Sisko arrived late. The crew was mildly surprised as Garak stepped off the turbolift with him, and astounded at the young man who accompanied them.

"This is _Jules_ Bashir," Sisko introduced the doctor's twin, then gathered his staff in his office to brief them. "Dr. Bashir is missing. Security is investigating his disappearance, but we have reason to believe that Mr. Garak's counterpart from the alternate universe is responsible."

"_He's_ here?" Kira's voice was sharp.

"What makes you think this other Garak has- er- our Julian?" O'Brien asked as he sat down.

Jules took a seat beside Miles. "He's here, and he's looking for revenge," he answered both. "Since he lost Terek Nor, we've been expecting him to strike back."

"Then the raid on Terek Nor was successful?" asked Kira.

"It's ours now. Professor Bateson set up a cloak, so the Bajorans never know exactly where we are in orbit and they can't blast us out of the sky." Jules turned to look out of the large, ovoid window behind the commander's desk. "I bet the professor and Miles--my Miles--would love to know how you got your station all the way out here."

Chief O'Brien began, "It took some trouble-" but shut up when Sisko shook his head, warning him not to give away too much information.

"What about Intendant Garak?" the commander asked.

"We were expecting him to do something," Jules repeated, "and, last night, he did. The Intendant got aboard the station somehow. This morning, the two guards on night-watch in the Operations Center were gone--killed, probably--and someone had been in the main computer. Miles changed all the security codes when we first took over, but some kind of override was used, one that only the station's intendant would know. It had to be him. He'd looked up information on the universe-crossing transporter--my Miles and Professor Bateson are working on the one in Operations--and it'd been used."

"And so O'Brien sent you?" Sisko asked.

"He couldn't come himself, and he said I was the best one to go," Jules replied. "We used the same coordinates Garak used, and I wound up in your docking ring. I was only supposed to warn you about Garak, Commander. We didn't know what he was up to `til I found you and heard that your doctor was gone." He looked at the others around the room. "It makes sense--now that he's an outlaw in our universe, Intendant Garak would come over to yours."

They all noted Jules's reference to Intendant Garak as an 'outlaw', but Kira was the one who asked, "The Alliance hasn't been exactly forgiving since he lost the station?"

"More than that." The elfish smile he gave them was very like Dr. Bashir's in a mischievous mood. "It was all Miles's doing. When he went to Terek Nor with you and your doctor, he accessed Intendant Garak's computer and sabotaged the station's defense systems, so that we could knock them down. Then he added some false communications records, to make it look like Garak had been sending information to the rebellion for months. Intendant Garak got away when Terek Nor fell, but we made certain the Alliance got hold of the evidence against him. They arrested him for treason the minute he landed on Bajor and were going to execute him, but he escaped.

"We heard about his escape, but no one knew where he was until he got back onto the station. What else could he do but come here? The Alliance is more eager to get him than _we_ are, and he blames your people for what's happened, Commander--you, and Major Kira, and he has a special grudge against your doctor."

At the far end of the room, Garak kept his eyes fixed on the young man speaking--a person whose existence he had not even heard of until last night. The resemblance to his Julian was startling; the facial hair concealed his features, but the cadence of the voice, the mannerisms, that smile, were all too familiar. Fortunately, he was not the only one distracted by the visitor's likeness to their doctor; this other Bashir might be an old acquaintance to Commander Sisko and Major Kira, but the usually unflappable Lt. Dax was staring and O'Brien was obviously flustered by the young man seated so close to him-- and undoubtedly by this Bashir's frequent, casual references to another 'Miles'.

Jules Bashir, on the other hand, had barely glanced in _his_ direction. From what Garak had deduced regarding this Bashir's relationship with his own counterpart, that was perhaps under- standable.

So far, he had not contributed to the discussion: he did not want to betray the fact that he was frantic with worry.

Once, he would've been astonished at the depth of proprietary and protective feelings that the Federation doctor roused in him, but after so many months of tender, patient effort to regain Julian's trust, he'd had time to grow accustomed to the incredible fact that he was in love. And after last night...

He would probably have involved himself in the doctor's rescue in any case, but Julian was _his_ now in a way he had not been even yesterday. This new bond between them created certain obligations. To act, he needed information. And so he had asked Sisko if he could attend this conference.

The door whisked open and Odo came in.

"What have you found, Constable?" asked Sisko.

"We've examined Dr. Bashir's quarters," Odo reported. "The doctor's commbadge is on the nightstand in his bedroom, de- activated, and his uniform is on the floor. The blanket is missing from the bed, but the bedsheets are untouched--it appears as if he never slept in them. We found no physical evidence of an intruder," he threw a suspicious look at Garak, "except for a datapadd on the sofa in the living area. It has your fingerprints on it."

"Were you in Dr. Bashir's quarters last night?" Sisko asked.

Garak thought he had done a thorough job of removing all evidence of his presence from Bashir's quarters--disposing of the stained bedsheets, his robe, Bashir's pajamas, the glasses they had left on the dining-table--but he'd been in haste to begin his search for Julian and had overlooked this. At least, he consoled himself, a datapadd was not especially incriminating.

"Yes," he said. "The doctor and I had dinner together."

"You must have been the last person to see him," Odo growled. "When did you leave?"

Garak's first instinct was to lie, to preserve his lover's reputation, but facts were needed to establish the correct time of Julian's abduction. "We stayed up rather late," he answered, "arguing about some maudlin Earth poetry the doctor seemed to think had literary merit. It must have been at least 0300 when I left him."

"And you were the first person to realize he was missing?"

"Yes. We had agreed to meet for breakfast at 0630, to continue our discussion. Dr. Bashir did not show up." As he spoke, he noticed that Jules Bashir was regarding him with sudden curiosity, but when he met the young man's eyes, Jules quickly looked away.

"So," Odo concluded, "that leaves a three-and-a-half-hour window of opportunity during which Dr. Bashir could have been abducted."

"And another hour before we closed the station to outgoing traffic," said Sisko. "Now, how many ships left DS9 during that period?"

Kira checked the station's traffic logs from the terminal behind the desk. "Only two," she reported. "A Lessepian freighter headed for the Khefka system at 0430, and a private shuttle to Bajor that left just half an hour ago. We can send runabouts to intercept them-"

"Wait," said Garak. "That may not be necessary." For the first time, he addressed the doctor's twin: "You said that your Intendant Garak transported over to our station?" And, at Jules's nod, "He has no ship of his own, no confederates here to help him arrange an escape?"

Following his train of thought, O'Brien whistled. "You mean they might still be on DS9 after all?"

"Indeed." Garak turned to Sisko, "Commander, may I suggest that you scan the station? If I am correct, you'll find one other Cardassian aboard."

Sisko nodded. "Computer," he called out as he exited his office, "scan for Cardassian lifesigns."

[Two lifesigns have been detected.]

"Display locations."

Dax went to the central display table on the main floor. "One here in Ops," she announced with a glance at Garak, "and," her voice rose excitedly, "the other is in the lower section of the central core."

"Those are the ore storage and processing chambers on my station," Jules observed as he joined Dax at the display.

"They were part of ore processing here too," Kira replied. "He'll be familiar with the layout."

"Can you get a fix on them, Chief?" asked Sisko; O'Brien had stationed himself at the transporter controls.

"No, sir. There're duranium composites in the works down there, not to mention uridium dust, and it's fouling up the sensors. I could try for the Cardassian, but I can barely pick up one other lifesign. If it's Julian, I wouldn't like to risk it."

Sisko turned to Odo next. "Take a security team to find them and bring Dr. Bashir out."

"Commander," Garak spoke again, "I would like to assist in the search."

"No," Sisko shook his head. "It could be confusing if both you and your counterpart are there." Then he told Odo, "Your first priority is to locate and rescue Bashir, but under no circumstances allow Intendant Garak to escape. He's a threat to more than the doctor's safety. He may be one man alone, but a handful of _our_ people changed his world. He could do a lot of damage in ours. Capture him if you can, but use what- ever measures are necessary to ensure that he doesn't get off this station."

Odo nodded grimly. "Understood." And he went to the lift.

/~iii~/

He had not been raped yet. Although Intendant Garak never said so explicitly, the implication was that the promised assault would be delayed as long as he continued to provide information.

And so, Julian talked. He answered questions about the Federation and its political structure. He described the key players in his universe that Intendant Garak was familiar with in his own--Cardassia, Bajor, the Klingon Empire. He did not, however, mention the wormhole, the Gamma Quadrant, the Dominion, nor the Founders; the Intendant knew nothing of them, and _that_ information was too dangerous for his captor to possess.

When he stopped, too hoarse to go on, the Intendant asked, "Is that all, Bashir?"

He nodded and waited for whatever would happen next.

Garak brought out a small, cylindrical, silver flask and offered it to him. "Drink. It's called solen'zaa. You'll find it refreshing."

Still wary, Julian took the flask and sipped experimentally. The liquid had a thick, honey-like texture and cloying sweet- ness--and, from the pleasant warmth that spread through him once it hit his stomach, a high alcohol content--but it did soothe his throat.

"I told you I could be generous, to reward good behavior," the Intendant said as he restored the flask to his belt. "You see how pleasant things might be between us if you do what I want? You've been most informative, but I will need more if I am going to make a place for myself in your universe. Assist me, and greater rewards will be yours in future.

Julian was appalled to realize that the Intendant was trying to be nice to him. Not looking for an excuse to brutalize this time; he wanted to win him over. "What does it matter to you?" he rasped. "As you're so fond of saying, you can force me."

"True," Garak acknowledged. "But I would much rather you and I had a...congenial arrangement." He reached out to caress his prisoner's cheek; Julian shrank from the touch, and the corner of the Cardassian's mouth turned down. "I know that you're reluctant right now, but one way or another, you will submit. Conquest takes time. Why not give in now and save us both the trouble of a fight you'll lose in the end?

"Think of it, Bashir: You're not a fool. You won't be content to mate yourself with your ambitionless tailor forever. I won't insist you promise--I know how much _that's_ worth, and I've had enough lies from my Bashirs." He grinned. "You should feel honored--I don't usually _ask_ Terrans for their cooperation. I've been remarkably patient with your insolence."

"Don't think I'm not grateful," Julian answered, "but I'll have to decline."

"I'm so sorry to hear that," the Intendant replied with an exaggerated note of regret. "Since you refuse, we'll have to-" He stopped at the sound of numerous bootheels clanging on metal.

Julian hesitated before shouting for help; he was still not certain if they were on DS9 or Terek Nor, and didn't know who exactly was coming--rescuers or someone far worse than the Intendant? But, in that moment of indecision, his captor moved with startling swiftness, sweeping him up, through the open hatch, and into the horizontal duct.

The next thing he knew, he lay flat on his back, pinned by the Cardassian; an elbow jabbed into his breastbone and a hand clamped over his mouth. The Intendant's eyes glinted a warning in the darkness as he pressed the muzzle of his disruptor to the side of Julian's head.

They listened as the footsteps grew louder, headed their way, and Odo gave orders to his team to search all the rooms and secure the section.

Once he was assured that they were not in immediate danger of discovery, Intendant Garak moved rapidly backwards down the duct, clasping his prisoner against himself and scraping Julian's bare arms, thighs, and backside on the gritty surface as he dragged him along.

They stopped when they came to a juncture with a vertical access shaft. As he rearranged the torn and dirty blanket to cover himself, Julian looked up; innumerable curved rungs ascended as far as he could see.

"When I was First Officer of Terek Nor, my duties frequently took me into ore processing," the Intendant told him. "I've hunted down dozens of Terran workers who tried to escape through these ducts--or, rather, the corresponding ducts on _my_ station. I loathed every second I spent here, but I learned a few tricks. This shaft extends through the central core of the station, and emerges on the service level beneath the Promenade. From there, we can cross over to the docking ring." He tucked his disruptor into his belt and urged Julian into the shaft with a swat to his exposed flank. "Up you go. Get moving."

/~*~/

Reports came into Ops at intervals as the search team went from room to room in the abandoned ore-processing center on the lowest levels of DS9. The first clues were promising-- disturbed dust in an auxiliary chamber, an open hatch--but these came to nothing once it was determined that the Inten- dant had gone into the duranium-lined conduits that formed a maze through that part of the station; subsequent sensor sweeps confirmed that the second Cardassian lifesign could no longer be detected.

The search went on through the morning, eventually moving up to the inhabited levels of the station. O'Brien and Kira soon joined them. Sisko retreated to his office to pace. Garak remained in Ops; the Starfleet and Bajoran crew were disturbed by his continued presence, but since Sisko had expressed a desire to keep him out of the way of potentially trigger-happy guards, and as long as he did not attempt to access sensitive information, no one asked him to leave. Although the tailor had placed himself near Lt. Dax's work-station so that he could follow the reports from the search teams as they investigated a series of systems failures and false security breaches in the habitat and docking rings, he was for the most part ignored. He didn't object; it gave him the opportunity to listen to the banter exchanged between the lieutenant and Julian's twin as the two tried to pass time during this tense situation.

"It's weird being here," said Jules. "It's just like Terek Nor." His eyes swept Ops, taking in the interface panels, monitors and displays, until he encountered the tailor. "With another Ben Sisko, another Garak-" he met Garak's eyes for an instant, aware that the Cardassian was listening, "another Miles O'Brien. I wanted to come, to see what your universe was like."

"Because of the things Benjamin told you about it when you served with him?"

"That, and what Miles said after _he_ was here. And there's nothing for me to do on Terek Nor--no need for the kind of work I used to do."

"I thought you said you worked for your O'Brien now?"

"I'm supposed to 'assist' him, but he likes to do everything himself."

This made Dax smile. "Not at all like our Chief."

Jules gave her another Julian-like smile in return. "I don't think he knows what I'm there for either. He just wants me around. Most of the time, I sit over there-" He waved in the direction of the steps leading up to the commander's office- "and hand him coil spanners and plasma-flux thingummies. I was happy when he wanted to send me over--if he didn't, I would've asked to go."

A voice came over the open frequency: "Commander, it's O'Brien. I've found something."

Sisko must have received this message in his office as well, but he emerged to respond. "What is it, Chief?"

"I've been following up on that security breach on Runabout Pad A."

"Security investigated that," said Dax. "They found no sign of an intruder." The theory was that the Intendant had accessed the station's internal sensors to create these false alarms as a distraction.

"Yeah, well, call it a hunch, but I wanted to have a look at the Orinoco. I checked the onboard transporter log--the last record was erased, but I've managed to recover most of it. According to the deleted record, two people beamed out of here barely half-an-hour ago. You ought to come down, Commander, and see this for yourself. Bring that other Bashir with you."

"I'll be right there. Bashir, you're with me."

Jules joined him on the turbolift. They went down to the runabout pad and onto the Orinoco, where O'Brien was waiting.

"I can't make head or tail of these coordinates," the Chief began with a gesture at the display on the runabout's trans- porter console. "It looks like they used a double set of locators to send whoever beamed out almost back to this same spot. And there's residue from a plasma discharge I can't explain." He asked Jules, who had stepped forward to examine the console, "Is it-?"

Jules nodded. "They look like the coordinates my Miles gave me to get home." He reached into a pocket of his jacket to bring out a small, flat, circular device like the one the other O'Brien had used when he'd abducted Sisko, Kira, and Dr. Bashir.

Chief O'Brien raised his eyebrows, seriously intrigued. "That's some kind of plasma emitter?"

"I guess," Jules said. "Miles told me that when I was ready to come back, I should wave this thing over the controls on one of your transporters, and put in these numbers-" he indicated a series of digits displayed on a miniscule panel, "and I'd transport back to our Operations Center."

"Would Intendant Garak have a device like this?" asked Sisko.

"He'd have to, to jump back and forth. If he got hold of the technical specs, he could've replicated one."

"The coordinates aren't identical," O'Brien observed.

"No, but it's close--Garak wouldn't go to our Operations, but he's definitely gone back to Terek Nor."

"And taken Julian with him," the Chief added in dismay.

Sisko let out a huff of breath, and said, "Then it looks like we're going back too." He turned to O'Brien: "Chief, while I'm gone, I want you to monitor for plasma discharges similar to the one you picked up here, or for any signs of unauthorized transport onto the station. Coordinate your efforts with Dax and Odo--I want Security ready to intercept Intendant Garak if he decides to return to DS9."

"Yes, sir."

As O'Brien left the runabout, Garak came in. The tailor must have followed them down from Ops and, Sisko suspected, had been eavesdropping just outside the hatch.

His first words confirmed this impression: "Commander, I'm going with you."

Sisko scowled. "Garak, you know how risky this could be for you. Both the Alliance and the Terran rebels are hunting for the Intendant--if they see _you_, they'll shoot on sight." Personally, he didn't care that much about Garak's safety, but he would not be responsible for sending the man into a situation where he might be killed unless there was a damned good reason for it.

"I'm fully aware of the dangers," the tailor answered, "but I must insist."

He spoke with a strange urgency; Sisko had noticed it in Garak's earlier requests to attend the staff meeting and to join the search. He didn't know what to make of it, but he couldn't help feeling that Garak must have some undisclosed reason for wanting to accompany him. "What are you up to, Garak? Why is this so important to you?"

"I have an interest in the good doctor's welfare," Garak answered with more reserve. "I'd be very sorry to see him come to harm. I want to help. Is that really so impossible for you to believe?"

No, Sisko conceded, it wasn't impossible. This wasn't the first time Garak had expressed concern for Bashir's well- being; in fact, after the doctor's initial encounter with the Intendant, Garak had been the one to bring the true extent of Bashir's trauma to his attention.

"Garak, no," he repeated more gently. "I know you're worried about him--we all are--but the best thing you can do to help now is not get in the way. If you're with me, I'll have to worry more about protecting you than finding Dr. Bashir."

The tailor smiled. "Commander, I couldn't agree with you more."

Sisko was suspicious of this abrupt acquiescence, but he said, "You're free to move about the station, but you ought to stay where you can be seen--on the Promenade, your shop, Quark's-- just in case." Not only would it avoid confusion if Intendant Garak returned, but it would make it easy for Odo to keep an eye on him.

With a small bow, Garak left the compartment. Sisko turned to Jules, who'd been observing the conversation with interest. "Let's go."

/~iv~/

Using same coordinates the Intendant had entered, Sisko and Jules Bashir beamed over to the docking ring on Terek Nor. As they looked up and down the empty corridor, Sisko mused aloud, "Now, which way would he go?"

"To one of the ports?" Jules guessed. "He wouldn't want to stay on the station longer than he'd have to." Then he stopped and said, "Someone's coming."

Two human males charged around the curve of the corridor; they drew their weapons, then lowered them again.

"Bashir," one said. "Captain..?" Both looked utterly baffled.

Jules was immediately in charge of the situation. "Where's O'Brien?" he asked them.

"Up in Operations."

"Then why don't you take us up to him? We've got some news he'll want to hear."

The guards, still perplexed, responded to this lightly phrased order by holstering their disruptors and escorting them to the nearest turbolift.

They rode up to the station's command center, identical to Ops in its layout, although in more disarray than Sisko would have allowed on DS9. O'Brien stood over the central display table with a scowl on his face, and the woman at the communications console was speaking:

"I'm having some trouble with all the signal noise, but I think I can focus-"

Even before she turned her face to the rising lift, Sisko recognized her and held his breath. He'd known that this meeting was coming and had braced himself for it.

O'Brien looked up. "Jules! And Commander Sisko? Glad to see you again, but- er- what-?"

"Intendant Garak's kidnaped Dr. Bashir," Jules reported, "and he's brought him back over here."

Sisko forced his attention away from this Jennifer to add, "We had hoped to catch up with them before the Intendant took the doctor off Terek Nor."

"Too late," O'Brien answered bluntly. "Damn! And I _knew_ it was him!"

"Something has happened here?"

"Yeah, something's happened all right. One of our shuttles was just stolen. It was cloaked when it took off, but the station's defense net picked it up when it passed our peri- meter. From its direction, we think it was headed for Bajor. We've been trying to pick up the shuttle's signature."

"Then you have a way to track them?"

O'Brien nodded. "There's a tracking device planted on each of our ships. Jen designed it so they can detect each other and keep from colliding when they're flying cloaked in close formation--it doesn't work so well at long range, but it's what we've got."

"There are thousands of transmitters on Bajor," Professor Bateson added. "I've been scanning the planet in longitudinal sections and focusing on a narrow range of frequencies, but it isn't easy to locate one specific signal in the midst of everything that's being broadcast. There's a lot to sort through."

"You're concentrating your efforts on Bajor- ah- Professor?"

"Yes, but..." she and Miles looked at each other.

"He won't exactly be welcomed there," O'Brien finished. "If it's Intendant Garak in that shuttle, he might just as easily be planning to hide on one of the moons, or be taking a round- about path out of system to Prophets-know-where."

"Do you want me to stop the scans?" Bateson asked.

"No, go on looking on the planet, but I'll send a few ships out to look for that shuttle on the moons as well."

"And if they've left the Bajoran system?" asked Sisko.

O'Brien shook his head. "It'll be like hunting for a drop of rain in a thunderstorm." Then he added quickly, "but there's no reason to give up before we've had a look around. Your Bashir's not lost yet." He tried to sound encouraging, but he knew as well as anyone that if Intendant Garak had taken Bashir out of the system, they might never be able to trace them.

While O'Brien launched the search vessels, Sisko watched Professor Bateson resume her scan of Bajor. His heart contracted at that familiar profile...the little frown of concentration...the impatient gesture as she brushed back a plait of hair that had fallen against her cheek.

This wasn't _his_ Jennifer; he knew that. Another woman. A stranger. She couldn't know the emotions that the mere sight of her reawakened in him; she would be disturbed if she did. But as long as they were going to be working together, he would have to treat her like an ordinary woman, and not the image of his late wife.

"So," he began, striving for normality, "Captain Sisko isn't here?"

She nodded without taking her eyes from the display screen. "My Benjamin's out in the Sea of Wraiths with the fleet, but we're expecting him back any day now. He was sorry he didn't have a chance to talk to you the last time you were here."

Sisko was just as glad they hadn't; he was relieved that, at least, he had been spared _that_ meeting. "He's preparing for another battle?"

"They've been running raids on some of the colony worlds, but I don't know what his plans are. It's better that I don't. Benjamin doesn't like to stay on Terek Nor too long--it isn't wise to keep all of our key people here, and he'd rather be out in his ship anyway. He says this place has too many memories for him. Miles, on the other hand..." she glanced at O'Brien, "A year ago, he was a Theta mechanic in the ore- processing pits of this station, and now he's in charge of it."

"And what about you? Why do you stay?"

"I'm a scientist, not a soldier. I can be of more use here."

Talking made it easier. This woman's brisk, no-nonsense attitude was very different from his Jennifer's coy playful- ness. "Bashir said that you were the one who set up the cloak around Terek Nor."

"That's right. Being so close to Bajor has its advantages-- we can monitor their transmissions, I can do this kind of search--" She readjusted her scan to focus on another 'slice' of the planet. "But our proximity also places us at risk. If they knew our location, we'd be under constant attack. We use the thrusters to alter our orbit at intervals, but we're still very vulnerable. Fortunately, uprisings on Bajor have kept them too busy to hunt for us."

"Uprisings?" Sisko echoed. "The Terran slaves are in revolt?"

"They've been encouraged." She gave him a wry smile and repeated, "Being so close to Bajor has its advantages." Then the console beeped suddenly, and she cried out, "Miles! I've got it!"

The others joined them at the console.

"I've picked up the shuttle's signature. It is on Bajor," she reported, eyes darting over the scanner readings. "They've landed in the Kellarc Mountains, at the northern end of the Himur valley."

"We've got people there," said O'Brien. "I'll send someone to investigate."

"Can't _we_ go down to investigate?" asked Sisko. "If you don't mind, I'd like to lead the search myself."

"Actually, I would mind. Our Ben Sisko's a wanted criminal on Bajor--I'd hate to see you arrested or killed mistaken for him." O'Brien gave him a look of sympathy. "I know how frustrating this must be for you, Commander. I promise we'll do everything we can for your doctor, but I have to think of our people first. If we go down there before we know what we're getting ourselves into, we could be risking our lives, not to mention the lives of our agents on Bajor--and there's no guarantee we'll even find Dr. Bashir."

"I understand," Sisko answered. "But what you have to under- stand is that this is _my_ man who's missing. I have to think of him first. I can't just sit by and leave him with that maniac a minute longer than I have to."

"I don't like the thought of it any more than you do," O'Brien began.

"Then let me go after him--me, alone. I won't put anyone at risk except myself."

O'Brien pulled in his lips thoughtfully as he considered Sisko's request, then he decided, "All right, Commander, you can go search for your doctor, but I want one of my people with you. Jules can-" He looked to Bashir, but Professor Bateson spoke first:

"I'll go."

"I can't let you do that," Sisko protested. She was the last person he wanted to place at risk. "It's foolish. It's too dangerous. _You're_ a wanted criminal on Bajor too."

"True," she replied with an amused twitch of her lips. "We all are. And this is a foolish and dangerous thing to do, but if you're determined to do it, then Miles is right: you'll need whatever help you can get." Then she told O'Brien, "I'm better qualified for this mission than Jules is. I grew up in those mountains--I know my way around. I've been monitoring the activity in the mining camps there for weeks. And I know how to contact our people if we need them."

"I'll let `em know you're coming," O'Brien answered. "You'll have to go as our Ben Sisko, Commander. One of our ships'll take you down."

"What about the crew I had the last time? Sforzi and Whelan?"

"They're off with the captain. Now, Jen's your guide. You do what you have to to get your doctor back, and we won't stand in your way, but otherwise you're to do as she says."

As Professor Bateson headed for the lift, Sisko stood dumb- founded at having no authority over her or Miles O'Brien. This was _their_ station and, even though he had convinced them to let him search for Bashir, permission had been granted solely on their terms. Plus, the prospect of spending time alone with this other Jennifer was unsettling.

Then she turned to smile at him. "Coming, Commander?"

He knew that lilt in her voice; she was teasing him, just as his Jennifer used to. He followed her.

"Habitat ring," Bateson ordered.

"Where are we going?"

"My quarters," she answered as the lift began to sink. "I don't care how much you look like my Benjamin, our people will suspect that something's wrong if they see you in that uniform."

/~*~/

Jennifer ransacked the closets in the suite she shared with her Ben and emerged with an armload of clothing and a pair of heavy, leather boots for Sisko to change into. She also gave him a disruptor, and supplemented her own sidearm with a large and vicious-looking knife--"for the vines," she explained. "We may have to cross some rough woodlands."

They went to the airlock where the shuttle O'Brien had called back to the station sat docked and waiting for them. The pilot looked surprised as his passengers climbed aboard.

"Captain Sisko? I didn't know you'd come back."

"I just arrived," the commander replied smoothly and took a seat. "Set a course for Bajor. The Kellarc Mountains."

/~*~/

Sisko and Bateson had just disembarked from the station when a message came into the Operations Center.

"Mr. O'Brien, this is Ogilvy in Security. We've got the Intendant! We found him sneaking around the docking ring. He surrendered right away, and we've put him in one of the holding cells. Do you want us to shoot him?"

"He didn't have a Terran with him, did he?" O'Brien asked. "A boy who looks like Bashir?"

"No, sir. He was alone."

"Don't shoot him then. Bring him up here." He threw Jules a look of concern, and then paced impatiently until the lift rose into sight, bearing the Cardassian--who had been roughed up since his capture--closely flanked by two guards.

"All right, Garak," O'Brien demanded, "where's Dr. Bashir?"

"Believe me, I wish I knew."

"You-"

"Miles," Jules interrupted. "That's not the Intendant. It's Mr. Garak, from the other space station. He's one of the commander's people. He's all right."

"I'm a friend of Dr. Bashir's," Garak added. "I've come to assist in his rescue in any way I can."

O'Brien had not expected to find an ally in the Intendant's counterpart, but Jules's recommendation was enough for him to order the guards to "Let him go"; they released their prisoner reluctantly and continued to glare with suspicion as Garak stepped off the lift. "I don't know if I'll ever get used to seeing people like you and Major Kira working for Commander Sisko," the rebel leader said once the guards had been dis- missed. "You know, Cardassians aren't usually friends with Terrans in our world."

"It's not commonplace in ours either."

"You might've been better off staying there," O'Brien told him. "You're lucky you didn't get yourself killed, crossing over unannounced. A lot of the crew has hard feelings about the old Intendant."

"Yes, so I presumed." Garak delicately touched the rising bruise just below one eye.

"How'd you get here anyway?"

"I transported immediately after Commander Sisko and your Bashir--there was enough plasma residue for a second cross- over." He looked around the Operations Center. "By the way, where is Commander Sisko?"

"Gone to Bajor after your doctor--And, no, you can't!" O'Brien added before Garak could ask. "It's bad enough having _him_ running around down there. The Alliance is out for Intendant Garak's blood. If they find you, you're liable to wind up with your head hanging on the gate of the Supreme Visor's palace. I ought to send you right back to your own universe."

Garak looked dismayed, but answered with the utmost deference, "I hope you won't, Mr. O'Brien. Even if I can't be of help, I would like to remain here and wait for news."

"If you do, you'll be under my protection," O'Brien warned him. "You'll have to stay up here in Operations."

The tailor nodded, accepting these conditions. "I give you my word, I won't be any trouble."

/~*~/

After climbing to the top of the access shaft, the Intendant led Bashir through a series of conduits, occasionally prodding him with the muzzle of the disruptor to keep him under control. They stopped at access panels along the way, so that Intendant Garak could create sensor 'ghosts' to draw the security teams to other parts of DS9; these distractions enabled them to leave the protection of the ducts, cross into the docking ring, and enter the runabout pad without being detected.

Once they were aboard the runabout, the Intendant attempted to use his override codes to open the bay doors, but found the station had been sealed off. Knowing that Security would come to investigate soon and having no other means of escape, he brought out a small hand-held device, tapped a series of coordinates into the onboard transporter console, and they crossed over to Terek Nor.

There, stealing a shuttle proved more easy than taking a runabout from DS9; the Intendant vaporized the lone guard who intercepted them, then set a course for Bajor. Then, just before the shuttle breached the station's shields, he yanked Bashir up onto the emergency transporter.

They materialized in a small, dimly lit chamber. Bashir looked around at the tangle of conduits that ran from floor to ceiling, the large, horizontal duct that crossed one wall, the shadows cast by the pale amber lights. "It's the same room!" Only the uridium dust that covered the floor was undisturbed.

"Yes," the Intendant chuckled. "The last place they'll look."

"But Security knew where we were on DS9," Julian reminded him. "They would've found us if you hadn't dragged me into the conduits."

"Hmn...yes. I thought the duranium composites around us were sufficient to keep us undetected, but it seems I was in error. Well, I can take care of that." Opening the panel on the wall beside the door, he punched in a coded sequence. "A slight readjustment. It will cause a minor energy fluctuation, but these Terran slaves aren't used to operating this station's sophisticated sensor equipment--with a few exceptions." He scowled as he shut the panel. "They won't know to look for it. No one has any idea that we are on Terek Nor."

"My people will figure it out eventually. They'll follow us..." he stopped when he realized that, if they did, they would follow the trail of the shuttle Garak had launched.

The Intendant, seeing Bashir's look of dismay, smiled. "If they come, by the time it occurs to them to search this station, we will be gone."

"Gone _where_?" Julian wondered. "You can't go back to DS9. They'll be watching for you. And you didn't go to Bajor when you had the chance-"

He was caught off his guard when Intendant Garak struck him hard across the face and hissed, "You know it's impossible for me to return to any part of the Alliance! You've seen to that!"

"No, I didn't know," Bashir answered once he had retreated to a corner, out of the Intendant's immediate reach. He sank down on his heels with one hand cupped over his stinging cheek, and began to put things together: Intendant Garak hadn't abandoned the shuttle purely to mislead the DS9 crew; he had not gone to Bajor because he couldn't. He had nowhere to go. "What happened? Did they banish you for losing this station?"

The Intendant replied acidly, "After I was forced to abandon Terek Nor, certain information came to light, indicating that I had aided the Terran rebels. My unfortunate relationship with your counterpart was examined. It seems that I was so besotted with that miserable little whore that I gave him quite a lot of highly classified information on Terek Nor's defense systems to pass on to his friends in the rebellion--or so my personal computer records suggest. It sealed my fate. I was named a traitor."

"I'm sorry," Julian said, and almost meant it, "but I had nothing to do with that. You can't blame me for whatever my counterpart did."

"But I do. I know you didn't plant that false evidence, but if it hadn't been for you, I would never have taken that creature into my service in the first place. O'Brien and his spy would've had no opportunity to incriminate me, and I wouldn't be in this situation now." He advanced toward his prisoner. "So you see why it's imperative that I return to your universe. There's nothing for me here. Over there, there are possibilities."

More pieces were put into place: This retreat must have been an enormous set-back for Intendant Garak. He was trapped here, beleaguered. Although he tried to sound as confident as usual, he didn't know what to do next.

Julian leapt on that uncertainty. "And what about me?" he asked.

"What about you?"

"What are you going to do with me?"

"Oh, I'm sure I'll find a use for you." The Intendant gave him that same menacing smile. "Aside from your delightful companionship, you will provide me with information once we return to your universe. Remember, I did say 'one way or another'."

"You don't need _me_ for that. Everything I've told you, you could've gotten from any Federation computer. No." Julian shook his head. "I'm not worth all this trouble." He took a breath, and declared, "You'd be better off if you let me go."

The Cardassian laughed. "How considerate of you to think of my welfare."

"I'm thinking of myself," he answered honestly, "but it's in your best interests too. Don't you see? All your plans have been spoiled because of me. If you hadn't come to get me, you could've left DS9 this morning without being noticed. Anyone who saw you would've mistaken you for my Garak. It might've been days before we learned you were in our universe. You wouldn't be hunted now. You wouldn't have been forced back here. I can't help you--I've done nothing but hinder you at every step. Why do you want to keep me with you?"

He wanted to sound reasonable--not like a wretched, dirty, emotionally and physically exhausted creature who would say anything to be set free--but after so many hours of captivity, waiting for the assault to begin, all of his suppressed fear and outrage was breaking through.

"What is it you really want from me, Garak? My loyalty? My love? Someone to blame for your mistakes? If it's revenge you're after, why don't you just get it over with?" He could hear the hysteria creeping into his voice, and tried to bring it under control. "Whatever it is, will you throw away every chance you have for it? Leave the station. Leave me here. I'll find O'Brien to send me home. I won't tell him where you've gone, and my people won't bother to pursue you once I've been returned to them."

For a moment, Julian was hopeful; the Intendant actually appeared to be considering his words--at least, his eyes had glittered with interest as he listened to this desperate plea.

Then, "No, I don't think so. Even if my original plans have been thwarted, I do have other options." His confidence had returned; he had an idea.

"Wh- what?"

"You'll see. But first, we must wait..." He sank down facing the door, one hand on the disruptor in his belt. "Until it is safe."

Part 2

| BACK HOME | LIST OF PAIRINGS | PREVIOUSLY POSTED STORIES |

Copyright notice: Star Trek and related Trademarks are the property of Paramount/Viacom.
The stories are the intellectual property of the authors. Please do not link to individual stories without the author's consent.