Disclaimer: Paramount blah blah blah.

Now onto the important stuff: This is yet another 'Jen-loves-Sophie' challenge story. The deal was that I'd write her anything she wanted as a get-well gift and she sure stuck it to me. Hope you like it, because it really was a challenge. To Sophie, we love you baby and sorry it took so long. I hope it proves worth the wait. WARNING!!! This is not my usual style and there are elements of violence, bondage, and noncons. I’ll admit to a satirical moment or three, but this ain’t ‘Jenish’ as Ned would say. Speaking of the grammatical god, this is also dedicated to my three beta buddies: Ned Fox, Heather Cook, and my boon companion in Trek-Olivia Monteith. All were brutal and tough as nails (Ned especially ;-p) but, damn, are they a talented crew. Thanks.

---Jen



The Wisdom of Madmen

By JA Chapman

When they sow the wind, they shall reap the whirlwind; the stalk of grain that forms no ear can yield no flour; Even if it could, strangers would swallow it. Israel is swallowed up; he is now among the nations a thing of no value. They went up to Assyria-a wild ass off on its own-Ephraim bargained for lovers. Even though they bargain with the nations, I will gather an army; King and princes shall shortly succumb under the burden.

Hosea 8:7-10 Old Testament

Curiosity killed the cat.

A very interesting Earth proverb, whose lesson shall long be remembered after this experience, Garak thought to himself quietly. He adjusted his arms, which were chained to the wall and winced at the discordant clash of metal against stone. Doctor Bashir was finally either asleep or unconscious, as his head lolled uncomfortably to rest against his upraised arms. Colonel Kira was kept in other rooms, and Garak didn't worry about her too much--despite being mad and vindictive, Dukat still considered himself a lover of women. Her cell, though equally fast, would be of satin ties and perfumed sheets and he doubted she was in immediate danger. Dukat, for the moment, was happy enough to take out his frustration on just the doctor and himself.

Garak leaned his aching head against the dank stone walls. If he weren’t in so much pain, he'd be forced to admit an admiration for Dukat's showmanship at least. The dungeon, odd sexual tortures, even the long drawn out monologues Dukat subjected them to had a theatrical appeal about them. Garak winced suddenly as a muscle in his calf began to spasm. Of, course, he thought grimly, it would be easier to admire it if he weren't the target of this melodrama.

Bashir let out a raspy moan and shifted uneasily.

Ah yes, curiosity killed the cat...



Prologue....

Garak scowled at the PADD in front of him and sipped at his tea distractedly, this particular sequence had been giving him trouble all morning.

"Sorry I'm late," Bashir stepped up to their table slightly winded.

Garak looked up with an apologetic grin, "Actually doctor, sorry to say I hadn't even noticed. I've been too busy unscrambling code all morning," he motioned for a waitress, "Ready to order?"

"Gods, yes--I'm positively famished!" Bashir said with a sigh as he sat in the chair across from his friend with a boneless grace, "It's been a rough morning--I thought I'd never make it in time for lunch!"

The waitress came up and both ordered. After making his selection, Garak sat in amused silence as Bashir began to count off several dishes, revealing just how hungry he really was. After their waitress left, Bashir caught the look on Garak's face and responded, "I missed breakfast."

"No need to explain--truth be told, I'm very interested in discovering how you're going to manage to consume all of those dishes and not have to bring in all your uniforms for a refitting," Garak replied dryly as he tapped at his PADD distractedly.

Bashir scowled, "I'm equally curious as to how you're going to drink that container of seasoning in your hand."

Garak looked down and saw he was about to sip from a salt shaker. Placing it on the table along with his PADD, he nodded in apology, "Forgive me, doctor. It was very rude of me to ignore our conversation."

Bashir grimaced apologetically, "Nonsense. I'm the one, who was being rude—I’m sorry," Garak nodded in acceptance as the waitress brought over their order. When she left Bashir immediately took a large bite and sighed, "Mmm! Good!"

Garak ate leisurely and smiled in amusement as the doctor wolfed down his meal, "You weren't exaggerating about being hungry then?"

Bashir chuckled around his fork; "It's been a busy day--very stressful."

Garak nodded in sympathy; "War does have a habit of making things quite stressful, yes."

"Indeed," Bashir replied ruefully, "I had two broken bones to mend, several inoculations, a surgery, and I still have a paper I'm working on for Starfleet Medical. Not only that, but after Colonel Kira left so abruptly I had to take over some of her duties and..."

Garak paused, "The Colonel left?"

"Yes," Bashir nodded, "It was quite unexpected. One minute she was going over some routine reports and the next thing you know she goes into Captain Sisko's office and requests indefinite leave," he sipped at his cup, "Very unlike her."

Garak found himself curiously intrigued by this bit of information. He wasn't used to not knowing something before the doctor and he found it to be mildly disconcerting, still it wasn't exactly earth shattering news. He shrugged, "Well, doctor, you're hardly in any position to judge the Colonel's behaviour as being anything out of the ordinary, now are you?"

Julian arched a superior brow, "Pardon me? I think after working with the Colonel all these years I know her fairly well and this is totally unlike her."

"Nonsense," Garak scoffed, enjoying the return of their once familiar banter, "No one can ever truly *know* anyone," Garak gave him a slow smile, "After all, that's what makes life so interesting."

~*~

Garak sat in his darkened shop and stared into the unrelenting lines of numbers and symbols littering the surface of his PADD. Finally, he dropped it with an exhausted sigh and rubbed his temples wearily. He desperately needed a break. He glanced around his shop stifling a yawn. He hadn't bothered opening it up to the public for well over two months now, but despite his boredom, he didn't feel like donning the guise of a simple tailor. What he craved was a challenge--a small one. Just a little something to help him regain his focus. He glanced at the chronometer and noted that it was still early and several of the senior staff would no doubt be at Quark's enjoying whatever free time the conflict with the Dominion would allow.

Again, he frowned. No--playing tongo with Quark or elbowing his way into Julian and Miles' dart game was not the type of challenge he desired. He needed...

He reached down and grabbed an unused PADD. Typing in several codes he began to hack the station logs to discover what the Colonel had been doing before she hastily left the station. A bit of nosing about might prove to be a sufficient...hello.

Garak looked down at his screen with a grin; it was the activity report on that day's shipping and flight clearance through Bajoran space. It was standard procedure to review flight plans for any discrepancies, obviously something in this report must have set Kira off.

Garak rolled his eyes; he was beginning to sound like the doctor. Oh well, he smiled to himself; it was just a game. A little exaggeration was all a part of the fun. He began to scan through them quickly but thoroughly.

Five minutes later, he found it.

He almost missed it, but luckily, his memory had proved unfazed despite the years since leaving the Order. There was a flight plan logged by a small freighter heading out of Bajoran space by one M'yal Kat.

Colonel Kira's half-brother.

Garak put down the PADD and walked up to the replicator to order another cup of tea. In the years since his first acquaintance with the doctor, Garak had come to appreciate the hot Terran beverage both for it's bracing qualities and for the warmth it provided. When Dukat was his political adversary, he'd made it his business to know every facet of the man's life, which included his personal relationships with Bajoran civilians.

Kira Meru, the Colonel's mother, had been Dukat's concubine for several years before dying in surgery. What official records didn't show was that the surgery in question was a Caesarean section and both she and the male infant died. Garak remained very literate on Dukat's many bastards and sexual proclivities--they were very handy to have around, especially during those volatile political debates and campaigns. How Colonel Kira knew about the infant, much less his name, was another mystery.

For much of the remainder of the night, Garak researched the station's databases and the Colonel's own logs. The thrill of sneaking past Odo's security protocols would be worth the exhaustion he would feel during the many security briefs scheduled for the next day. Then, about an hour before his appointed meeting with the Captain, he found the answer yet again.

"I cannot believe this man was actually the leader of Cardassia," Garak scoffed disgustedly, "Sloppy."

There, right where anyone with a passing knowledge of Cardassian data keeping could find it, was the name of the doctor who signed Kira Meru's death certificate: Jemal Nurin. The man was a very well regarded obstetrician at the time that served both Bajoran collaborators of high rank and Cardassian officers’ wives and mistresses. From there it would have been impossible for Kira not to assume that her mother may have died in childbirth, research any birth documents near the date of her death and find a certificate registered for one M'yal Kat, a half-Cardassian male born to Kira Meru.

Dukat always was too sentimental about his bastards, Garak thought a bit unkindly. Because the child was male and his firstborn he'd allowed Meru to give him his clan name of Kat, which would demonstrate to society he was a regarded illegitimate child. According to Cardassian custom, the boy would never be able to claim actual rights as a firstborn son-but would be granted a higher status than most bastards in that he could own land and be received into military service. It was unusual, but not uncommon to do so. The uncommon part in this little drama was that this was a half-Bajoran child, and such a status was usually reserved only for full-blooded Cardassian children born of mothers of lower castes whom society would deem appropriate for bound concubines but not wives. This was usually done when a head of a great house could not beget children from a politically arranged marriage yet still wanted a blood heir.

Oh yes, Garak was very familiar with this particular custom, indeed.

He probably did this only because he knew the child would not survive, but it was still very foolish of him, both politically and personally. At the very least he should have deleted all the records...but then, in his foolish sentimentality, he may indeed have done himself a favour.

Garak could not find the child's death certificate, although he knew the child did not survive. It was during this time period that he had been assigned to watch Dukat's movements very carefully and he remembered watching with amusement as Dukat shuffled first one of his pregnant mistresses then another, and his wife, into the offices without allowing them to know the others existed. The highest offices in the Obsidian Order would whisper of Dukat's unusually fertile season with near demonic glee. It had truly been one for the books.

The doctor's nurse kept them informed on the progress of the pregnancies as well as the scheduled appointments and such. When the child died, Garak was informed of this as well. Tora Nepraim, Dukat's other mistress and Sha'al Dukat, his wife, both gave birth to healthy girls some months later. That a freighter should 'happen' to be captained by a Bajoran named M'yal Kat only weeks after Dukat himself went underground after the embarrassing cult incident, was-to say the least-somewhat suspect. If Garak were a logical man, which he was, he would assume that Dukat had chosen a convenient new identity so that he could get past Bajoran security.

Dukat may well be mad, but he was never stupid.

Foolishly weak willed, but not stupid.

The easiest and most effective identity switch was to take the name and papers of a deceased infant. Garak had done it himself on more than one occasion. That Dukat had chosen the name of his own son was a sentimental error of almost embarrassing proportions. Of course, such information wasn't widespread; then again it had hardly been proven the most discreet of identities as Kira's sudden departure had demonstrated.

Therefore, it would not be such a drastic jump in logic to assume that Kira was on a personal mission to find Dukat. Garak didn't bother to hypothesise as to why she would recklessly endanger herself by not informing command of this revelation as the Colonel had demonstrated, at least to him, that she was more than a little independent. If she felt she had an agenda that did not coincide with that of her government or the Federation, she also would not feel the need to inform them of her decision.

Again, Garak almost grew disgusted with the fact that these were the same people who were slowly but surely winning the war against Cardassia. The fact that he was aiding them in that fight was irrelevant. These people had no respect for proper intelligence protocols. As an intelligence operative, he more than understood the term 'need to know', but this was highly improper of an officer who had ascended the ranks as quickly as Kira had.

This is what happens when ragtag terrorists suddenly become ranking military. It was enough to make one a pacifist.

He yawned and looked at the chrono--twenty minutes until his debriefing on yesterday's transmissions and then the staff meeting in Ops. For a moment he debated as to whether or not he should share this information with Sisko. If he told him, he would undoubtedly reap some reward--a bit more freedom in the short term, but in the broader view, he'd probably be considered even more of a liability. After all, hacking the station's computer could not simply disregard as concern over a 'friend', especially as they were not friends by any definition. If he didn't tell them, then Dukat would escape and Kira would, in all likelihood, either get herself killed or distract them from their primary mission because Sisko would have to organise a rescue party, wasting precious manpower over a foolish young woman with more rank than common sense.

Sisko, like Dukat, was a man who allowed sentimentality to get the better of him.

Garak looked at the growing pile of PADDs on his desk. He looked over the flight plans logged both by Kira and the freighter captain Garak assumed was Dukat. They appeared to be heading out toward Orion space, non-Federation space but fairly safe. The area was well known to him, as it was comprised mostly of privately owned moons and pleasure planets. Businessmen and retired government officials who had amassed their fortunes through less than legitimate often chose to retire on because no one, as a rule, bothered asking nasty questions about extradition and tax evasion. In fact, if Tain had not chosen the Arowath Colony, he most likely would have gone to someplace very similar.

Garak again looked at the chrono--fifteen minutes left.

Perhaps it was time that he, too, took a short vacation...

~*~

"He wants to go to Bajor for a few days."

Sisko frowned cynically, "Garak wants to go to Bajor. And why is that, old man?"

"Benjamin," Dax frowned as she leaned forward a bit, "It's not all that surprising that Garak would want to get away for a while. I mean, with his claustrophobia, the best thing for him *would* be to spend a few days on the planet. As his counsellor, I highly approve of it!"

"Perhaps...if we were talking about any other person aboard this station, then yes, I could see that. Garak, however..." he shook his head, "I can't approve that order."

Ezri scowled, "Ben--this is a medical leave he's requesting, besides which, he's not a member of Starfleet! At best he might fall under the designation of civilian contractor and if he wants to go, you can't stop him."

"Dax," Benjamin said in a deceptively cordial tone, "I'm not saying he can't leave--I'm just not approving his use of a shuttlecraft to do so. He's perfectly free to hire a civilian transport..." Sisko grinned, flashing a brilliant amount of white teeth, "...of course, that's if he could find one not owned either by Starfleet or the Bajoran government, which, given the current situation, is doubtful."

"Ben..." Dax warned through gritted teeth.

Chief O'Brien chose to take that moment to knock at the door, "Captain, I have today's release forms for the runabouts ready and waiting your approval."

"Certainly," Sisko replied urging the Chief to come forward.

While he looked over the reports, Ezri continued her argument. "You know, isn't it sad that an officer can just decide to take off with no explanation and get the unlimited use of a shuttlecraft especially when we're stretched so thin, but someone with a legitimate request for medical leave can't even get transport to Bajor?"

Miles looked from first one to the other, "If I'm interrupting your meeting..."

"That's all right Chief," Sisko said, putting the PADD down for a moment. "The reason I approved Kira's use of the shuttlecraft was because she is a respected officer--Garak is not and we don't have enough resources right now to justify allowing every civilian who requests a transport to go off with one of our runabouts. If Garak feels the need for wide open spaces, we'll have Quark make a holosuite available 26 hours a day until the end of his leave," Sisko replied smoothly.

"That's ridiculous." Ezri argued.

"If it was good enough for Nog, it's good enough for Mr Garak." he reasoned, "New transmissions are arriving from Cardassia daily and we need him here to decode them."

"All he's asking for is a few days," Ezri argued in a reasonable tone which was at odds with her deepening scowl, "and Bajor is close enough that if any new transmissions come through then he can easily decode them from there."

"The way this war is going, even the loss of one available transport could make the difference..."

"Bullshit." Ezri said simply, "If that were the case, then why is it Kira could just waltz in here and--"

"Captain," O'Brien interrupted in a strained tone, "I really need you to sign these orders."

"In a minute, Chief," they replied simultaneously.

"You know, I think the real reason you don't want to give Garak a runabout is because you want to keep him where you can see him."

"You're just figuring that out?" Sisko asked with a snort, "Of course I do! Mr Garak is the least trustworthy individual I..."

"Excuse me!" O'Brien broke in, "I don't mean to rush you Captain, but I still have to work on upper pylon three and finish my own reports sometime today. If you could just sign those orders, I'll be on my way..." O'Brien cleared his throat, "...sir."

Sisko straightened his shoulders slightly, "Sorry, Chief. Leave these with me and I'll look them over then register them personally."

O'Brien gave the officer an apologetic grin, "Thank you, Captain. What with Kira being gone, it's been a struggle getting anything done today."

"Tell me about it," Sisko sighed, "Dismissed."

As the Chief hurried off, Ezri gave Sisko a meaningful look; "Those are the shuttle approvals?"

"Dax..." Sisko said impatiently.

"What?" she said snatching them away and looking through them, "I'll help you...and at the same time I'm sure we can figure out a way to get Mr. Garak down to Bajor."

Despite his growing annoyance, Sisko found himself grinning in return; "It's good to have you back, old man."

She blinked then gave him a radiant smile. "Thank you, Benjamin, that’s very sweet of you to say."

"I'd almost forgotten what a pain in the ass you were." he added.

She shot him a glare, "Funny...what's this?"

Sisko glanced at the PADD, "That's a short run to Bajor to drop off some reports. The shuttle's coming straight back--besides, Mr. Garak wants to go to the opposite side of the planet."

She nodded reluctantly and continued to read, "What about this transport tomorrow morning?"

Sisko looked down again to where she was pointing, "No, that's not even headed in the same direction."

She sighed then began to study the PADD again.

"You might as well face it, old man, Garak will have to make do with a..."

"A-ha!" She handed him the PADD triumphantly, "Julian is taking a shuttle to Deep Space Seven for a conference on the Jem' Hadar and the production of white. His flight path goes right past the far side of Bajor."

"He's not even going to Bajor, though," Sisko pointed out.

"He can drop him off." she quipped.

Sisko sat in silence for a moment. Ezri arched an elegant eyebrow in response, "Unless the real reason you don't want him to go is because his loyalty is under question."

"I'd be insane not to question his ‘loyalty’ as you put it," he responded easily.

"Benjamin, Garak has sacrificed a lot for this war..." she began.

Sisko snorted, "For which he's been compensated."

"With credits and living expenses?" Her next comments had a decidedly sarcastic edge, "If you'll recall, the only reason I'm still aboard DS9 is that you thought it was necessary for Garak to have a personal counsellor. Now that I'm here you're just going to sweep my recommendations aside because you don't like the patient?"

"It's not that I don't like Mr Garak, it's that I don't trust Mr Garak," Sisko replied easily.

"It's just a short leave, he's not going to steal Bajoran state secrets, Ben." Ezri said irritably.

"How do you know?" Sisko countered.

"Ooh!" Ezri grumbled, "You are so--so..."

"Ah ah ah!" Sisko grinned, "I'm still your superior officer, old man."

"HUMPH!"

At that moment, Dr. Bashir poked his head through the door, "Captain? I have those reports you requested."

"Come in, doctor," Sisko invited.

Bashir nodded cordially to Ezri then handed a PADD to the captain, "Chief O'Brien says the shuttlecraft is ready, so I'll be headed toward DS7 as soon as I finish one or two things in the infirmary."

"Should I let Garak know?" Ezri asked Sisko with a pointed look.

"Let Garak know what?" Julian asked curiously.

Sisko cleared his throat, "There's been a slight change in plans, doctor."

"There has?" Julian asked with a growing sense of foreboding.

Sisko grimaced, caught in his own game as Ezri smiled triumphantly, "You're going to have some company, doctor."

"Who?"

"Garak." Ezri said in near glee.

"Garak." Julian replied dumbly.

"Garak wants to go to Bajor," Sisko explained.

Julian blinked, "Why?"

"He didn't tell us," Sisko answered uncomfortably, "He just said he needed to get away for a few days and I want you to drop him off on your way out of the system."

"By all means then," Bashir said sarcastically, "Will one baby-sitter be enough?"

"Not at all amusing, doctor." Sisko warned.

"Captain, this is not a pleasure outing," he argued, "I'm meeting with several top scientists and doctors! This paper is highly important."

"So is Mr Garak's state of mind until after this conflict is settled," Sisko commanded, "You will be escorting him to Bajor."

Bashir remained silent for a moment before replying reluctantly, "Very well, sir."

Ezri got up and clapped him on the shoulder, "Thanks Julian."

Bashir turned and left the office, "You're welcome."

~*~

Garak looked up from his PADD to see Ezri Dax waving at him through the window of his closed shop. Walking over to the entrance he gestured for her to join him, "Good morning, Counsellor. How may I..."

"I have some good news for you, Garak," she interrupted with a wide grin.

"Oh?"

"You're going to Bajor!" she beamed happily.

Garak smiled back in response, "That is wonderful news. When can I take the runabout?"

Her smile slipped a bit, "Well, actually, someone's going to be dropping you off."

Garak's expression grew less readable as he absorbed her words, "Ah."

"Dr. Bashir--Julian--is, um, passing by and he's agreed to beam you down to the planet's surface." She watched him with some concern as he crossed the room avoiding eye contact with her, "Garak, you can't honestly expect Captain Sisko to just hand you an expensive piece of equipment like a runabout, now can you?"

"I suppose not, " he sighed, "It does change my plans a bit though..."

"How so?" her brow wrinkled in concern.

Garak responded with a smooth and reassuring expression, "Merely that I had planned on being alone for the trip. It's so rare to be granted any amount of privacy these days..."

"Oh. Of course," she nodded, "Julian's shuttle is leaving in twenty minutes--have you already packed?"

"Yes," he led her to the door, "I just have one or two loose ends to tie up and I'll be on my way."

"Good luck."

"Thank you," he said as she walked away from the small storefront, "Oh, and Lt. Dax--"

"Yes?" she inquired, turning to face him.

"I truly do thank you for championing my cause."

Ezri flushed with pleasure, "Anytime, Garak."

The Cardassian waited until she had turned the corner and he was out of her view before quickly closing up the shop and hurrying across the promenade. As he passed Quark's, he suddenly paused and looked into the near empty bar to it's one and only patron at the early hour.

"Mr. Morn."

The large lumbering alien looked up from his drink and glowered in greeting, as Garak approached him with a friendly smile, "I have a proposition for you--one that I believe will be to our mutual...satisfaction."

Morn gave him a startled look before scooting his seat over in trepidation.

"I assure you my intentions are most honourable and businesslike," Garak promised reassuringly, but Morn still appeared rather reluctant, "May I sit down for a moment?"

~*~

"Where the hell is Garak?" Julian grumbled as he looked at the time.

"Mr Garak is probably just getting his luggage together," Sisko replied, also appearing contrite despite his words of reassurance, "He'll be here in a moment."

"Captain--" Bashir scowled, "Can't someone else take him to Bajor? I really am running..."

"Here I am!" Garak appeared slightly out of breath as he hurried toward the airlock with his bag slung around one shoulder. He was only slightly winded, however, and greeted both officers cordially, "Forgive me for being a bit late--there were a few matters I had to attend to before leaving the station."

"Of course, Mr Garak," Sisko replied as Bashir shot him a disgruntled look and picked up his own bags, "Your rooms have been booked at the hotel and Starfleet will be taking care of all your expenses."

"Thank you, Captain," the Cardassian inclined his head, "That's most generous of you."

"Nonsense," Sisko flashed him a dangerous smile, "Until this war is at an end, both I and the Federation want you to be as comfortable as possible."

Reaching out, Sisko tapped the panel causing the doors to slide open, "Make sure to check in with us as soon as you are settled."

The obvious inference was not lost on the tailor, "Naturally," he replied as he followed the doctor into the airlock.

~*~

Garak hummed under his breath slightly as he tapped on the runabout's console causing Julian to glare in annoyance, "Could you please not do that?"

"Pardon me?" Garak asked, breaking the silence.

"Humming," Bashir cleared his throat, "It's rather annoying."

Garak arched a brow ridge, "Forgive me, doctor. I didn't mean to offend."

"I didn't say it was offensive," the younger man replied, "just that it was annoying."

Garak was silent for a moment as he studied the hard countenance of the other man, "Are you angry with me?"

"What?"

"You haven't spoken a civil word to me since we left the station so I merely assumed you were angry with me for some reason."

Julian looked over at his companion, "I'm not angry, Garak. I am, however, in a hurry and although I realise it's not your fault, my having to drop you off at Bajor is..."

"Inconvenient." he finished.

"Yes," the younger man agreed, "I'm sorry if I was rude about it, however."

"I understand perfectly," Garak waved off the apology, "It's a rather...inconvenient situation for me as well."

"How so?" Bashir inquired as Garak got up and moved toward the end of the small cabin.

"Well, truth be told, I hadn't expected to be travelling with anyone today, although I suppose that was a bit fanciful a notion considering my position aboard the station."

"True," his companion agreed.

"Luckily, I also believe in always being prepared for any eventuality," he added cordially.

"We should be reaching Bajor in less than three minutes," Julian replied as he began to type in the co-ordinates for the transporter, "You might want to get your things together."

"That won't be necessary," Garak assured him as he returned to the front of the cabin.

"Why--ooohhh..." the dusky skinned man mouthed as he fell forward with the hiss of the hypospray at his neck.

"Because," Garak said, adjusting the now prone physician so that he lay back into the chair, "I don't believe I'll be going to Bajor after all."

He quickly sat back down and activated the transporter, ensuring that if someone decided to check the logs, his 'departure' would be noted.

On the planet's surface, the air shimmered slightly before again appearing normal. A passing Bajoran man saw this and huffed, "Damned tourists."

~*~

Sisko looked up from his paperwork to the chronometer on the wall. By now, Garak should have long since checked in. With a weary sigh, he tapped the console on his desk and, almost instantly, the face of a Bajoran man appeared onscreen.

"Emissary! Oh--"

"Good afternoon," Ben greeted, "I wish to inquire about one of your guests."

The man smiled engagingly, "Ah! Yes, Emissary. Mr Garak, I believe?"

Sisko nodded, "Has he checked in yet?"

"Oh, yes sir. Just a few hours ago in fact," the Bajoran cleared his throat a bit, "I suggested to him that perhaps he'd be more...comfortable in his quarters until later in the day. It can be quite hectic at this time and Mr Garak is a rather...unusual guest--wouldn't you agree?"

The dark skinned officer nodded politely in response, "Nevertheless, I would consider it a personal favour if you would overlook Mr Garak's unique status, and see to it that he is kept comfortable."

"Of course," the older gentlemen agreed soberly, "We, at the Hotel D'Sarma, are known for our discretion, Emissary."

"I appreciate that," he rejoined with a grateful smile, "Is there any way I could speak to Mr Garak?"

The man suddenly appeared contrite, "Forgive me, Emissary, but I'm afraid that won't be possible."

"Oh? And why is that?"

The man scratched his chin and appeared embarrassed, "The...wiring in this building is quite old. Unfortunately, the power to Mr Garak's suite has been going out intermittently since he arrived. In fact, I've been hearing complaints from several of the guests about..."

"That's quite all right," the officer interrupted, "Just tell Mr Garak that as soon as he's able to, I would appreciate it if he could report in."

"I will, Emissary. Good day."

Benjamin ended the transmission and folded his hands thoughtfully. Although he would have felt better having talked to the tailor himself, knowing that he was settling in did take at least one more worry off his overburdened mind.

Now if only things would continue to go so well...

~*~

Bashir awoke to the sound of someone singing off-key, and allowed his bleary eyes to focus on his surroundings. As he looked around, he remembered what had happened: Garak had drugged him then, apparently, moved him to the rear of the cabin. As to why he had done such a thing, he hadn't a clue.

Suppressing a moan due to the dull ache in his head, he reached for a phaser on the wall near the bunk and carefully made his way toward Garak.

The Cardassian froze as the barrel of the weapon was pressed against the sensitive skin of his broad neck.

"I take it our travel plans have changed," Bashir said in a raspy tone.

"Ah, good afternoon," Garak smiled carefully at his angry companion, "Did you enjoy your nap, doctor?"

"My nap?" Julian repeated incredulously, "You drugged me!"

"Yes, and I didn't do a very good job of it either," Garak appeared perturbed, "You were supposed to be out for another two hours. Really doctor, your genetically enhanced metabolism is most inconvenient."

The dark skin of the younger man grew even more flushed with agitation, "Am I supposed to apologise! Now, what the hell is going on? Why are we heading out of Federation space?" he asked looking down at the flight display.

"If you must know..." Garak began.

"Oh, you're goddamn right I 'must' know!" he rejoined heatedly.

Garak sighed, "There's no need to lose your temper, doctor. We're on a rescue mission."

"Right." he snapped, "Turn this ship around now--as soon as we get within communications range, I'm reporting this to the captain."

"No need to be abusive," Garak sighed, "I’m more than willing to leave poor Colonel Kira to the mercies of Dukat if you are…"

"What are you babbling about Garak?" Julian snapped.

Garak sniffed in disdain, "I think you had best reword that last statement, doctor. I do not babble."

The Cardassian hid a smile as he watched a muscle in Bashir’s jaw work in silent fury before the young man finally got his emotions under control; "I…apologise. Now, what was this ‘mission’ about exactly and how does it relate to the Colonel?"

"Care to sit down?" Garak offered the seat beside him congenially.

Reluctantly, Bashir sat but not before cutting the engines.

Garak looked at him with no little annoyance, "You know, we are on a tight schedule."

"Then you had best talk fast," Bashir replied coolly.

Almost against his will, Garak gave the younger man a broad grin, "You know, despite having been born into a hopelessly optimistic Federation dogma, you have become almost Cardassian in your mannerisms. Well said, doctor."

"I don’t take that as a compliment, Garak, and you are avoiding the issue." Bashir snapped, not amused in the least by the other man’s verbal antics.

"Of course, a true Cardassian wouldn’t be nearly as ill mannered," he muttered, " For reasons unknown to me, the Colonel is on a personal quest to capture Gul Dukat. In this mission, she will undoubtedly be outgunned and most likely killed," he looked at his companion candidly, "We are going to rescue her."

For a moment Julian just absorbed the tailor’s statement, "Do you honestly expect me to believe a word of that story?"

"No," Garak replied, "but for once, it is the total and complete truth, Doctor."

"Somehow I doubt that," Julian sat back in his chair and stared sightlessly at the carpet of stars ahead of them.

"Well, perhaps I have neglected one or two points of interest," he admitted, "but then, full disclosure is hardly entertaining."

"From you, Garak, full disclosure would not only be entertaining, but awe inspiring. How is it you came upon this information, exactly?"

"I have my methods, Doctor." He stated cryptically.

"Not good enough," Bashir gave him a hard look, "Why didn’t you bring this information to Sisko if you were so convinced Kira was in danger?"

Garak approached the question calmly; "Certain parties felt it would be of a greater benefit to all concerned if this mission was not handled through official channels."

"Which parties would that be?" Julian appeared doubtful.

"That I cannot reveal at this time." He said smoothly.

"Why should I believe a word of this?" Bashir questioned sarcastically.

"You shouldn’t," Garak rejoined, "but while you sit there congratulating yourself on your Vulcan-like logic, your friend and fellow officer is most likely being tortured by a madman with a grudge."

Julian hesitated for a brief moment before hitting the panel, allowing them to continue on their journey.

"Thank you, Doctor," Garak replied checking their heading, "You won’t regret this decision."

"Oh, I already do!" he stated coldly, "Make no mistake, Garak---I’m watching every move you make and whether or not you are telling the truth, there will be consequences to your misappropriation of a Starfleet vessel and unprovoked attack on an officer."

Garak merely gave him an enigmatic smile and continued in silence.

~ * ~

Several hours later they arrived at the small privately owned moon known only as K2-5. Anonymity was apparently more important to the xenophobic rich patrons of this particular sector than poetry. The trip had been spent silently if not companionably, so Garak had at least been able to plan their ‘mission’ in peace.

"You’re not just going to land on the moon’s surface, are you?" Bashir remarked a bit patronisingly, breaking his sulk at last. At least, that’s what Garak had been mentally calling it since their last argument.

"That’s exactly what I plan on doing," Garak replied as he piloted them into the atmosphere.

"I thought the point of this little excursion was to save the Colonel, not get captured ourselves," Julian scowled.

"I assure you, I have researched this mission thoroughly and performed scans of the surface. The only security sensors I detected are in the compound itself. The possibility of our being detected is low at best."

Julian appeared doubtful as he braced for the small bump caused by the landing, "I hardly think that Dukat, mad though he may be, would be so negligent as to ignore the possibility that he may have been followed."

Garak arose with a long suffering sigh and led the way out of the runabout, "And I assure you, doctor, that I know Dukat far better than yourself and we have not been…"

Click.

"…detected."

Both men looked at the small group of conservatively dressed gentlemen who were now pointing disrupters at their heads.

"You were saying?" Julian asked dryly as he raised his arms in surrender.

~*~

Garak shifted uneasily as he attempted to find a more comfortable position to sit in. It was an impossible task as his arms were chained above his head and his bottom rested upon the cold and uneven surface of the stone floor.

Trust Dukat to choose a vacation home that was both gauche and cliché.

Julian, also uncomfortable and attempting to arrange his arms so that they would not go numb, occasionally glared over in the Cardassian’s direction muttering unintelligible curses.

"Doctor, your childish sulking is getting quite tiresome. If there is something you’d like to say…"

"Oh, there are plenty of things I could say right now! Most of them obscene and certainly in violation of the Hippocratic oath," he said darkly.

"I take it that you blame me for our capture?" Garak asked with a raised eyeridge.

Bashir’s jaw dropped in surprise, "Yes! What? Are you implying that this isn’t all your fault?"

"Actually doctor, I’m not attempting to imply anything. If I were to lay the blame at anyone’s feet though, it would be at your own."

"You’re saying it’s my fault?!?" Julian was taken aback, "How in hell did you come to that conclusion, might I ask?"

"Simply put, had you not interfered with my plans to begin with, the mission wouldn’t have failed," he shrugged.

"How in hell did I interfere with your plans? You’re the one who kidnapped me!" Julian expounded in outrage.

"You kept distracting me," Garak replied, "Obviously that caused me to overlook a discrepancy on the monitors. Either that or Federation technology isn’t as reliable as your people tend to believe."

"You are…you are…" Julian’s chains rattled against the stone walls as he turned toward the Cardassian, "You are the most frustrating and bull headed person I have ever met!"

Garak smiled at him pleasantly, "Why, thank you. Tenacity is viewed as a valued attribute to my people."

"Oh shut up," Julian snapped.

"Your friendship with the chief has made you quite surly of late, doctor," Garak sniffed in distaste, "I used to think of you as well mannered."

Julian stewed for precisely two seconds before turning again to the Cardassian, his chains rattling in protest, "Just answer one question for me Garak; why did you decide to come all this way? Why go to all this trouble, and don’t say it was to save Kira. I’m not stupid."

"The truth?" Garak looked at him from the corner of his eye.

"That would be a novel experience, wouldn’t it? Yes—the truth," came the sarcastic rejoinder.

"I was bored."

Julian went still, "What?"

He shrugged, "I was bored. All I had these days was codes and staff meetings, so when I happened upon this information, I decided to pursue it."

Julian remained unresponsive so Garak turned to look at his companion, his own chains rattling against the stone walls, "You did ask, remember?"

The human lightly rested the back of his head against the wall, "You were…bored."

"Well, I could have come up with a far more dramatic reason, doctor, but you were rather insistent upon hearing the truth."

"From now on, Garak—lie to me," Julian winced at the sudden pain in his temples, "Better yet, just don’t talk to me at all, okay?"

"Very well," he shrugged.

"Bravo!"

Both men looked toward the tall, lanky Cardassian approaching them from the doorway. Gul Dukat was clapping and grinning broadly, "Oh my, this will prove to be most entertaining!"

Garak looked at his life-long enemy through narrowed eyes, "And what, pray tell, is this?"

Dukat looked down at them both and slowly smiled his once intelligent eyes now suffused with madness; "This is the primordial struggle between good and evil! This is life and death itself!" he stopped and cocked his head as though listening to a silent voice for a moment, "Well, your life and death, that is."

Two human men came in and approached both the prisoners, quickly injecting them with some sort of chemical. Just before Julian lost consciousness, he heard Dukat repeat the words, "Don’t worry, it won’t be long, I assure you."

~*~

Hours later, as Garak forced himself to breath through the incredible pain brought on by the whip which was slowly skinning him alive, he almost wished the rest of his life would rush toward that rapid conclusion as promised by Dukat.

Again and again-the leather bit deeply into the tender and abused flesh of his back. He wasn’t surprised by Dukat’s torture methods, he had been whipped before, but his tormentor was particularly adept at her task not to mention the fact that she was also quite enthusiastic.

"Kira!" Bashir strained against his bonds, his face now a tortured canvas which served as a silent witness to his own torments. His left eye was swollen shut and his bottom lip was split and still bleeding. "Nerys! Stop this!"

Had Garak the strength to speak he would have told Julian that reasoning with the Bajoran woman was futile. Whatever drugs Dukat had her on were very effective. The pale and fine boned features of her face were now contorted with a madness reflective of her ‘master’s’ own. Her arm flashed through the air and the blows she delivered to his bloody back proved accurate and deep once more.

"Oh do be quiet Bashir." Dukat sat back in his plush chair and absently toyed with the stem of his glass. "You’re distracting her."

"Stop this Dukat." Julian glared murderously at the Cardassian. "She’s killing him!"

Dukat yawned and sipped at his drink. "You always were rather melodramatic, Doctor."

Nevertheless, ten blows later Dukat called out to the Colonel to cease her torture of the exhausted and weak tailor.

Garak hung in the chains for an extended moment, his flesh burning and his throat raw from his unuttered screams. At the sound of Dukat’s voice, Kira allowed the whip to fall upon the cold floor and woodenly walked toward the seated Cardassian as if to await further instruction.

"Garak!" Bashir called out raggedly, "Garak, are you all right?"

Forcing a small weak smile upon his bitten and torn lips, Garak chuckled hoarsely, "Absolutely doctor, in fact this whole scenario brings back some rather *kaff* pleasant memories." He lifted his head and forced back the sudden rush of pain induced tears, "Of course, I was on the other end of the whip at the time."

Dukat grinned, placing his glass upon a small table beside his chair. "The one thing I always admired about you Garak was your positive outlook in even the most trying circumstances. Well put!"

"One does try," Garak commented sarcastically before falling into a coughing fit.

Bashir began to pull against his chains once more. "Damn you, Dukat! He needs medical attention—release me!"

Dukat rolled his eyes as Kira dropped to her knees and laid her head upon his thigh. As if stoking a cat, he absently began to run his hand over her hair and spoke to her in a pleasant if odd tone, "Are you enjoying yourself my darling? Would you like to play with the doctor next, Nerys?"

Kira remained silent as she leaned into his caresses, her own hands busily massaging his inner thighs as her breath came in quick excited gasps.

"Oh yes, you are enjoying yourself, aren’t you?" His voice now held a singsong quality to it. "Pretty little Nerys. Pretty, pretty girl."

"I don’t mind dying, Dukat," Garak croaked out, "but spare us the side show if you would."

Dukat’s mouth quirked up slightly as he flicked his eyes briefly toward Garak, still running long greyish fingers through Kira’s short auburn hair. "You never did appreciate women, did you Elim?" He stroked her face, smiling as her mouth opened and suckled at his fingertips, "Their beauty, their softness…no, you never did. You didn’t even appreciate my daughter’s beauty, did you? You merely used Ziyal then destroyed her."

"I…cared deeply for Ziyal," Garak protested weakly.

"You never cared about anyone or anything in your entire life, Garak. You are a monster." His smiled and kissed Kira lightly upon her lips, still speaking to Garak as he nibbled gently at a purring Kira’s ear, "A murdering sociopath, that’s what you are and always have been. I’m going to enjoy killing you slowly."

"What are you?" Bashir retorted his face livid. "You’re not only a murdering bastard but a rapist! You had to drug Kira so that she would allow you to touch her!" He spat out the words venomously, "You didn’t give a damn about Ziyal! If you did you wouldn’t have drugged the woman she loved like a sister then treated her like a common whore!"

Dukat arose with a catlike grace and crossed to room to deliver a powerful blow across Bashir’s mouth with the back of his hand. Blood sprayed from the physician’s much abused mouth as he grunted in pain from both the sudden strike and the wrenching his arms took as they twisted in the chains that bound him to the wall. Dukat cocked his head to the side in a bird-like gesture and grinned at the gasping human. "You always have to meddle in matters that don’t concern you, don’t you Dr. Bashir?" He bent slightly at the waist and looked directly into the other man’s eyes, "That’s a very dangerous habit."

Dukat turned and gestured to Kira who followed him out of the room silently. "Clean them up then put them back in the ‘guest quarters’," Dukat ordered the two dark clothed humans guarding the entrance to the chamber. This time though, as the hypospray hissed against his neck, Bashir was grateful for the oblivion it brought. Garak was unconscious before they reached for him.

~*~

Garak awoke to the unpleasant sensation of cold water being thrown in his face. Unwittingly, he inhaled what felt like an enormous amount of the salty cold liquid and choked as it burned his nostrils, nearly strangling him. As the second torrent came, he held his breath then gasped as the salt hit the still fresh wounds of his back. He shook with cold and numbly recognised the sound of the doctor’s voice as he muttered obscenities and choked upon the foul water. Their guards then left them cold and shivering alone in their cell, again without so much as a word.

"Th-these g-gentlemen are qu-quite the conver-versationalists, w-wouldn’t you agree, d-doctor?" Garak attempted to smile despite his chattering teeth.

"I-I d-don’t find this at all amusing, G-Garak," the human replied through tight blue-tinged lips.

"Me n-neither, truth b-be told."

Unexpectedly, Julian let out a sharp bark of laughter. "I think that’s the second honest thing you’ve said to me, Garak."

Garak controlled his shivering long enough to mutter, "Oh, I’ve told you the truth many times before, y-you just never noticed."

The other man sighed and rolled his neck attempting to make himself more comfortable while trying to get his shivering under control. "I don’t want to fight with you, Garak. I have too many things to worry about right now to get into another debate." Julian shuddered and drew his arms as close as the chains would allow. "In case you hadn’t noticed we’re not in the replimat."

"I wish we were," Garak shuffled his chained legs and feet, "Even badly replicated food and contrived romantic prose would be better than this."

"I’m so hungry I could even manage a plate of rabid gagh!"

"I don’t know if I’m quite that hungry yet, doctor." Garak winced and stopped for a moment before again shuffling and stomping his feet for warmth.

Julian looked at the pale complexion of his companion in concern; "We have to get out of here. If we stay much longer Dukat’s either going to torture us to death or we’ll die from exposure."

"An excellent suggestion, doctor. Now, how exactly were you planning on freeing us?"

"I don’t know yet, Garak! Frankly though, I’m half tempted to leave you chained to Dukat’s wall for getting me into this mess—sorry, yet another mess!"

Garak smiled at the biting sarcasm in the doctor’s rant, "That’s much better. I think I prefer you in our adversarial lunch mode to this posture of a condemned prisoner you’ve been taking on."

"Why? Because you enjoy pissing me off?" Bashir scowled as he tried the locks on his chains.

"No, because I know that when we’re in a debate you enjoy nothing more than proving me wrong and right now I’m fairly certain we aren’t getting out of this alive."

"In case I didn’t mention it or make it clear to you before, this new policy of telling the truth was a very bad idea. I do believe I’d much rather have the lies, thank you."

"You’re both so entertaining!"

Both men fell silent as Dukat strolled into the room with Kira and the two guards at their side. The ever-silent human attendants stopped and stood at on either side of the door watching them all with professional detachment. Kira and Dukat both wore long cloaks of scarlet that were embroidered richly in some sort of gold thread. The overdone costumes and stiffly regal pose the other Cardassian had assumed spoke volumes about just how forgone his sanity truly was.

Garak gave a mocking nod; "I’m pleased that we could offer you some enjoyment through our discomfort, Dukat."

"Oh yes, believe me you have most certainly made my life far more enjoyable in the last day or so." He smiled at Garak with glittering malice, "I only wish I could keep you alive longer. Truly, my old friend, though you may have been a proverbial thorn in my side for more years than I can count at least you have made them interesting."

Bashir grimaced and made a small sound of disgust as he watched Dukat slither toward his companion.

"You have something to say, Doctor?" Dukat asked expectantly.

The smooth faced human’s expression could be likened to granite, "Actually, yes."

Dukat waited for an exaggerated moment before shrugging, "Well?"

Julian turned toward Garak, "If we live through this, I never want to hear you complain about how overdone Earth literature is again. I feel as though I’m trapped in a badly rendered Cardassian melodrama!"

Dukat began to laugh uproariously as great rolling tears of mirth wet his cheeks and the stone walls amplified the sound. Kira tittered drunkenly in chorus while Garak and Bashir both looked on grimly.

"Such wit, doctor! Such bravado even when faced with your inevitable death!" He grinned and leaned in closer, "I’ll miss that about you."

"I hear a lot of talk, but have yet to see much action on your part," Garak responded with insulting calmness, "A beating and some cold water and we’re supposed to beg for mercy? Forgive me, but you really must be mad if you think that either myself or the good doctor could be so easily defeated."

"Oh, but you have been defeated, my good man." Dukat chuckled as he rounded the pair, examining their chains as he passed; "Captured, chained, and defeated…you just haven’t quite accepted it yet." Garak snorted derisively but Dukat continued, "You’re right though, I’m not done playing with you yet. I have other ideas about how to make the rest of your brief lives interesting."

"Oh joy." Bashir’s response was heavy with sarcasm.

"Actually, you may enjoy the next stage of our little…how did you put it? Our ‘melodrama’?" Dukat smiled slyly, "In fact, I’m counting on it."

The human gave his tormentor a scathing look, "I’m sure you are. You do realise that as soon as Captain Sisko realises that Garak and I are missing he’ll send out a search party?"

"And won’t that be fun!" Dukat nodded with a laugh as another set of guards entered the room with what appeared to be a throne and a small black case. Dukat fell bonelessly into the large ornate chair and casually draped one leg over the arm as the two new guards left only to be replaced by an elderly manservant in formal clothing wheeling a large food laden cart, "Oh good. Lunch!"

Dukat examined the various dishes before turning again to his captives, "I do hope you don’t mind me eating in front of you." He allowed the servant to pour him a glass of fruit juice and then held it up in mock salute. "If it’s of any comfort, I don’t believe you’ll really have time to notice, isn’t that right Kira darling?"

Kira fell to her knees and began to crawl on all fours toward Dukat while making deep-throated animalistic sounds. She ran her hands over his taut thighs and licked his hand as a lapdog would.

"Stand up, my dear. It’s time to play with our little friends now."

Kira stood slowly and obediently turned toward the two captive men. She walked toward the wall, her steps even and graceful despite her drugged state. As she touched a panel on the stone wall, Garak and Julian’s arms were suddenly wrenched tight as their chains were pulled upward giving them no slack in which to manoeuvre.

Both men hissed in sudden pain as Kira smiled and walked toward her ‘master’.

"Now the bag." He instructed her as he ate his dinner with a profane casualness.

The Bajoran woman then picked up the bag and placed it before the two moaning captives. She then straightened her back and then slowly began to peel the robe away revealing a thin tight leather body casing—so thin that her proud nipples were clearly defined beneath it.

Dukat nodded silently to the human servant who then chose a large, ornate knife from the tray before approaching Kira and handing it to her with a polite flourish.

"Madam." He nodded politely as she took the proffered weapon then resumed his place beside Dukat.

Kira looked at the gleaming blade for a long moment before finally speaking in an eerie, almost childlike voice. "Cardie scum…"

Slowly she approached Garak who watched her in a stoic silence; her face almost rapturous as she rubbed the cold flat of the blade against her hard nipples and down her smooth, leather encased stomach. "Kill the Cardie bastards dead. Stab them, hurt them…"

"Kira." Bashir’s voice was small and raspy as he watched her deadly progress toward the chained Cardassian. "Nerys…put down the knife, Nerys."

With the sharp blade she carefully traced the ridges of Garak’s face, barely allowing the knife’s edge to make contact. "Stab you with my shiny blade…" She suddenly stabbed downward causing Garak to tense in sudden fear and Julian to gasp in shock. "Let you feel my hate."

She smiled at his reaction as she slowly cut his clothing away from his tense body, the tip of the weapon lightly scraping the delicate scaled flesh of his chest leaving thin bloody streaks in it’s path. When she had cut open his tunic and trousers, she stood up placing the knife between her strong, whit e teeth and running her hands across his shoulders slicing the material as it bunched at his chained wrists then again down his torso toward his thighs. She brushed away the fabric which was already left in tatters from his previous beating and peeled the bloody rag away from his back causing it to fall to the floor as he hissed with the reopening of several deep lacerations. She smiled as she revealed his silken shorts then fell to her knees, holding the blade in one hand as the other caressed and stroked his penis through the thin material. Garak gritted his teeth to prevent himself from betraying his panic as she ran the sharp edge over his crotch and then inserted it between the elastic and his genitals.

From his chained position, Bashir squirmed in sympathetic reaction as Dukat chuckled sinisterly. "Terrifying, isn’t it doctor?" he laughed and Bashir swallowed convulsively.

"You’re one sick fuck, Dukat." The human muttered.

"Ah ah ah! Remember doctor, you’re next." He turned toward the manservant who was now refilling his glass as though they were the only two people in the room and nothing untoward was happening, "Tell me, Adams, don’t you humans have some sort of traditional surgical procedure involving the mutilation of the penis?" Without waiting for the man’s response he nodded to Bashir congenially, "Circumcision, I believe."

Garak held his breath as Kira cut away his underwear, exposing him totally. With a gleaming smile she moved away from him and then turned toward her other victim, who looked at her in growing dread. Garak’s eyes followed her in distrust even as she moved away from him and toward Bashir. As she stopped in front of the doctor, she made a show of twisting the blade so that it shimmered and reflected the light prettily.

"YAH!!!" Suddenly she lunged, the knife slicing the cloth on his chest and breaking the surface of the skin causing the human to hiss in pain. Dropping the knife to the floor, she grabbed the ragged material and ripped it away from his body with a snarl, biting the exposed nipples on his chest with a growl.

"Arrgh!" He gasped and attempted to kick her away but she suddenly and cruelly balled up her fist and punched him in the crotch causing him to scream in pain before attempting instinctively to draw up his legs to protect himself.

As he gagged and heaved noisily, she again reached for the knife and cut through his pants and boots. Her fingernails dug into the flesh above his taut buttocks and scraped them downward making him hiss in reaction. She removed his clothing grinning with deliberate cruelty as she bared his tanned flesh that was now streaked with bloody scratches both from his previous encounters with Dukat’s henchmen and Kira’s own ministrations.

When both men were totally nude, Kira turned to the seated Cardassian who was leisurely sipping his soup from a heavy silver spoon. He nodded silently at her unspoken request then put down the spoon to sip at the juice again. Kira cocked her head, smiled at both men with an innocent grin, and then pulled out a matching pair of connecting metal rings in various sizes.

As she again approached Garak, he chose to kick at her landing a hard blow to her stomach as she began to bend down. The guards reacted swiftly and with decisive action. From his side, one of the guards produced a pain stick and quickly jabbed Garak on his tender and abused back. He screamed as electricity tore through his body causing the muscles of his chest and arms to knot and spasm uncontrollably while the other aided Kira to her feet once more. Dukat’s attendant stepped away from him and opened the door, whispering to someone in low tones on the other side. The other two guards then entered the room once more and aided their co-workers in placing manacles around the two struggling men’s ankles.

Bashir spat out vile profanities as his feet were secured roughly while Garak merely shuddered and gasped as the last of the shocks wound their way down his spinal cord before shooting back upwards into his skull. Instinctively, he kicked out with his legs but he was easily subdued and the rings were attached around the base of his limp phallus and testicles all the way up to the crown of his shaft. Bashir was harder to control, but after a few blows were landed to his solar plexus he, too, wore both the leg irons and the odd metallic cock rings.

With a snap of his fingers, the older servant dismissed to two exterior guards while the remaining ones slipped again into the background to await further orders. Dukat pushed away his empty dinner plate that was replaced quickly with some sort of confection. He took an appreciative bite. "Mmm, Adams. You’ve outdone yourself."

"Thank you, sir." The man bowed from his waist formally, his voice still calm and polite despite the odd and perverse scene unfolding before them.

Kira stared ahead dumbly and Dukat, as though finally remembering them, addressed her once more. "Tell your guests about their new toys, my dear."

Kira began to speak again but in a low monotone this time which was almost as terrifying in it’s quiet intensity as the perverted schoolroom rhyme, "Seven gates of hell. To hell with them!"

"Explain what they’re for Nerys." Dukat didn’t even bother to look up as he continued to enjoy his meal, barely listening to her mad chatter.

"Cardie spoon head pieces of shit! Cock sucking bastards, all of them!"

Dukat finally looked at her in annoyance, putting down his fork with a small, irritated clatter, "The rings, not our guests, Nerys."

"Make them huuuuuurt…" She moaned ecstatically.

Dukat motioned impatiently for the food cart to be removed as he addressed her again, "How will they hurt?"

She tittered drunkenly and approached the seated Cardassian. When she neared him, she positioned herself between his thighs and then slowly sank to her knees. "Hurt goooood…."

Garak cleared his throat painfully then rasped out, "Remind me to repay the Colonel for this if we do survive."

"It’s not her fault," Bashir squirmed to relieve the ache in his balls from the savage blow dealt only a few minutes earlier, "it’s that son of a bitch, Dukat, that’s to blame for all this."

"Still, you’ll forgive me if I leave a pin or three in her next formal, won’t you?" Sweat dripped off the Cardassian’s brow and he breathed in and out heavily. He was obviously exhausted, Bashir mentally noted, but then again he, too, felt as though he had run a marathon. Every muscle in his body ached with tension as he steeled himself for the next act in Dukat’s bizarre little play.

"Leave four." Bashir looked at Kira as she smiled with a malevolence he had only seen one other time and that was in the face of the woman known as the Intendant, her mirror self from another universe they had visited a few years earlier. At the time, their theory had been that those people were their opposites but now he began to wonder if they were actually what each of them could become given the right circumstances. Logically, he knew she was incapable of stopping herself from carrying out Dukat’s orders, but that made her no less deadly and if they did live through all this he’d probably never be able to look at her the same way again.

Dukat gazed deeply into his ‘love’s’ eyes and smiled. "Dance for your friends now, my dear."

Kira rose to her feet and began to roll her hips to some music that played only in her own mind. As she threw back her head, rolling her neck sensuously, her small hands pushed and kneaded her firm breasts together causing a delightful friction against her nipples. She then moved her hands downward and caressed the muscles of her abdomen then even lower still to her crotch where she masturbated herself slowly through the micro-thin brown leather suit.

"Dance for the spoonhead and his collaborator."

Slowly, she lowered her body to the ground then flipped over suddenly, her ass high in the air and her thighs wide spread as she continued to pleasure herself. Her cheek touched the ground and she breathed heavily, her mouth wide open and moist.

"Paaaaaiiiiiinnn…." She moaned with smiling euphorically.

Dukat was now fully alert, his eyes riveted to the Bajoran woman. He rose from his throne and approached her with hungering gaze. Kira smiled and laughed breathlessly upon his approach. She stopped pleasuring herself and began to lick at the top of his soft leather boots then parted his robe so that she could kiss his cloth covered inner thighs. Dukat breathed heavily, looking down at her as she manipulated his crotch, chewing and rubbing him through his trousers. Roughly he grabbed her arms and pulled her up as though to kiss her but she moved her face away and began to rub at his chest then slid her own body against his. She turned and rubbed her pert backside against his cock and Dukat gripped her slight hips with his large grey hands and began to pump at her through their clothes.

Bashir groaned pitifully as his penis grew hard despite the disgust he felt at seeing Kira publicly humiliated, the metal rings clamping down upon his rigid member with no little amount of pain. Garak, who had managed to control his own ardour up to this point, felt himself stiffen and grow as the doctor cried out softly, his eyes irresistibly drawn to the other man’s now fully erect and trapped penis.

Dukat had turned Kira so that she faced him and began to kiss his way toward the apex of her thighs. He licked and sucked at her through the leather and used his long tongue to seek out and manipulate her erect clit. Blindly, he groped for the small black bag then dug around in it, his face never leaving the moaning woman’s leather encased cunt. With a groan of triumph her pulled out a silvery phallic shaped instrument and began to rub in up and down the crease of her well-shaped ass. It began to hum and vibrate and small shocks of electricity erupted from the head of the device and caused her to shudder and gasp with orgasmic pleasure.

Both men were now in pain. Bashir shut his eyes tight but the moans and gasps of the lovers could not be ignored. Tears welled up on Garak’s eyes as he bucked hopelessly against the confining torture device and he tried to think of anything but the scent of pheromones and sounds of sexual tension filling the room. His well-trained eyes began to dart across his prison cell, looking for any weaknesses or breaches in security that could offer them an escape route after Dukat and Kira left them once more. It was as his eyes drifted over the embracing couple that he saw something that made him smile slightly despite his discomfort.

"They must have you on some heavy medications, Dukat." His voice was raspy but triumphant, "I understand that anti-psychotics sometimes have those type of side effects."

Bashir’s head lolled forward as he looked through sweaty lashes toward the man Garak was addressing, "Wha—" It was then that he understood.

Despite Kira’s heavy-handed stroking, Dukat’s penis was completely flaccid under the tight breeches he wore. "He’s impotent." The stress of all they’d been through combined with the peculiar turn of events made Bashir forget for a moment his physician’s oath to be a merciful professional and instead snicker breathlessly.

"Is that why you chose this particular torture technique Dukat? You wanted to see how real men looked?" As Garak laughed triumphantly, Dukat’s face suddenly paled as though he had been struck. With a roar, he threw himself at the two chained men and began to punch Garak over and over as Bashir yelled and rattled the shackles in an attempt to draw the attack away from his friend.

As Garak choked and then fell unconscious under the heavy blows, Dukat then turned on Bashir and struck him hard on the temple with his balled up fist. It was the last thing he would see for quite some time.

 

Present…