Present…

Sisko grimaced as he looked into the comm screen, “What do you mean he never showed up? He left here two days ago!”

The Andorian man straightened the collar of his medical uniform uncomfortably. “I’m sorry Captain, but he never showed up. We knew you were under a communications silence a while back so we assumed at first that was why he didn’t inform us he wouldn’t be able to present his paper to the committee. As soon as we informed Admiral James of this though, he corrected our assumption and ordered me to comm you immediately.”

“Thank you for your concern.” Sisko said irritably, rubbing a sudden ache in his neck.

“I, and the rest of the doctors here, hope he will turn up safe and sound.” The Andorian’s antennas bobbed up and down as he nodded his head sympathetically.

“Thank you doctor. Sisko out.” As the screen flashed back to dark, Sisko tapped his badge. “Sisko to O’Brien.”

//O’Brien here, sir.//

“Has Mr Garak checked in yet?” He asked.

//Aye sir. Apparently, his hotel was still having comm problems but he did send a voice transmission. It’s on your console now.//

Sisko hit the panel and immediately the static laden voice of the tailor emerged. “S-*crackle*-y ab*fizt*out the transmission being *zzzt* -ut the hotel is experiencing technical ---ifficulties. This is ---arak signing in.”

The Captain gazed down at his desk console for a long moment before hitting the viewscreen controls. Immediately, the face of the hotel manager came into view.

“Emissary! Hello…I was just about to contact you.”

Sisko tented his fingers and looked into the console gravely, “Indeed? I take it that this would mean the problems with your communications system have been solved?”

“Our…oh! You mean from the day before!” He chuckled a bit self consciously before continuing, “Oh yes, they’ve been fixed for a while.”

“Then why has Mr Garak been reporting problems concerning the transmissions he’s made?” The dark skinned man asked with a raised brow.

The Bajoran man shook his head in confusion, “I-I’m not sure, Emissary. Mr Garak’s comm unit is in perfect working order. I’m afraid everything else may not be, but…”

“I’m not quite sure I follow you.”

“Well, Emissary,” the man slipped a finger under his collar as if to loosen it, “that was why I was about to call you.”

“Continue.” Sisko’s face remained calm. For some reason, he suspected he knew what the hotel manager was going to say.

“I’m afraid Mr Garak’s bill is growing quite large.” He cleared his throat nervously, “We understand that he is a personal friend of yours so the hotel has made some special allowances, however our plumbing is quite old—pre-occupation, in fact—and certainly not built for flushing mud down the bath drain and whatnot. Speaking of which, the mud in question was not inexpensive and he charged it to…”

“Mud?” Sisko asked, wincing slightly as the pain in his temples grew by leaps and bounds.

“Yes sir.” The man gave a sad nod, “Also, this is a conservative establishment, many of our guests have families or are older. Given Mr Garak’s unusual appearance, we were prepared to bend some policies, but the women…”

“Women?” Now Sisko knew something was definitely off centre.

“Oh yes, Mr Garak is quite the ladies man! He’s been….cavorting with the less respectable ladies of the township since the first hour he’s been a guest here. Many of the other patrons are outraged.” He took a deep breath. “Also, you should know his bar tab has grown most excessive. I don’t mean to suggest that your friend has a drinking problem but…”

“Patch me through to Mr Garak’s quarters immediately!” Sisko barked his patience at an end.

The man at the other side of the screen jumped, “B-but Mr Garak asked that he not…”

“As the Emissary to the Prophets, I am requesting that you put me through to Mr Garak’s room immediately.” He ordered his eyes dark with irritation.

“Yes, Emissary.” The manager reluctantly hit a button and Sisko could see the darkened interior of Garak’s quarters. From the right, a half-naked Bajoran woman ran laughing across the screen. A second later a large lumbering figure entered the view space.

“Mr Morn.”

Morn stopped short and looked at Sisko with small beady eyes, which were filled with the knowledge that his free ride was over. Slowly, he shrugged.

“Stay right where you are!” Sisko commanded, “I’m having the Bajoran land police hold you under house arrest until you can be escorted back to the station.”

Most people would probably run when simply told they were under arrest, but this was Morn. Morn rarely ran anywhere if there was a barstool within sitting distance so Sisko wasn’t worried that he’d try to escape. He was however worried about the doctor and their wayward Cardassian.

He gave him a hard look, “Is Mr Garak with you?”

Morn shook his head slowly.

“Of course he isn’t. Sisko out!”

He slammed his fist on the desk angrily, “I knew it! ‘But Benjamin, he needs a vacation’ my ass. Sisko to Odo.” As irritating and untrustworthy as the Cardassian was, they couldn’t afford to lose him quite yet. If he ever did get him back on the station though, claustrophobic or not, the man was going to be locked in holding until he collected his retirement benefits.

//Odo here Captain.//

“Send two guards down to the Hotel D’Sarma to take Mr Morn into custody.”

//Morn?// Odo’s voice was gritty with agitation; //I should have known things were getting too quiet around here.//

“As soon as he is back on ship I want him brought to my office for immediate questioning concerning the whereabouts of Mr Garak and Dr. Bashir.”

//Right away, sir. Odo out.//

Sisko sighed and rubbed his forehead; “It’s going to be one of those days.”

~*~

Bashir moaned and opened one eye; the only one not swollen shut, and looked over to his companion who was attempting to reach for his leg shackles.

“Figure out a way to pick the lock?” he mumbled, his voice raspy from their shared ordeal.

“Afraid not, doctor. Actually,” he grunted as he finally reached the muscle, “ugh, I’m just trying to work out this cramp.”

“One must have one’s priorities in order.”

“Humour is not your strong suit.” Garak said irritably, as he rubbed his leg.

Julian grimaced and bumped the back of his head against the cold stone, “I have to relieve myself.”

“Pardon?” Garak looked up with a frown.

“I have to take a piss.” Julian stretched his back and fidgeted uncomfortably. “I don’t know about you but my kidneys are close to bursting.”

Garak cleared his throat and averted his eyes from Julian’s semi-erect state, which evidenced his need to urinate, “So go.”

“And sit in my own urine for gods know how long?” He snorted derisively, “Right.”

“Guard!” Garak called out. “Guard! We need assistance!”

A camera came down from the wall and pointed its lens in Garak’s face as a voice came over a hidden speaker.

 //What do you need?//

Smart, Garak thought to himself. The whole room must be wired with observational equipment. This would make it infinitely harder for them to escape but he had to admire their thoroughness. “We require water and food as well as sanitary facilities.”

There was a long pause and Bashir took the opportunity to speak up, “We’ve been here for who knows how long! If Dukat wants us dead then just do it, otherwise at least have the common decency to let us take a leak.”

“Leak?” Garak asked, he attention re-routed to the doctor.

“Slang term for urination.”

“Oh.” Garak nodded. “Most appropriate.”

“We try.”

“Okay.” The guard said before the door again opened and three men entered. Two stood sentry, phaser rods in hand, as the third that was unarmed approached Julian. Quickly, he placed a shackle on both of his wrists before undoing the manacles attached to the wall. Then he released the leg clamps and placed a bucket near his feet and backed up. Julian grunted in relief as his arms came down then unsteadily rose to his feet. As he gained his balance he quickly reached between his legs and aimed for the metal pail. Garak turned away, allowing him some amount of privacy and did not turn around again until the splashing of liquid ceased. Instead he allowed himself to note that whomever these men were, this was not the first time they had guarded over prisoners. The man who was now serving them had no weapon to steal and took the proper precautions so as not to be placed in the position of becoming a hostage to his own charges. Perhaps, if he did live, he’d seek retirement out here. He might even start his own private version of the OO.

“Back to the wall, hands up.” The guard ordered briskly.

Bashir knelt back down stiffly and raised his arms. “Do we get food as well?”

“Mr Dukat will have to make that decision, sir.” The dark-haired human replied with cool professionalism as he again shackled the other man to the wall.

“Now you.” The guard’s eyes flashed intelligently. “Try anything and we’ll put you down, understood?”

Garak nodded meekly and the man repeated the process of shackling and unshackling him. Briefly, he considered taking the opportunity to attack the guard, but he quickly decided against it. He probably could gain some temporary advantage even though he was still in chains. Only three human guards were present, but there were at least five or six others unaccounted for and who were undoubtedly expecting that very thing. Instead he, too, took the opportunity to relieve himself; shivers of pleasure running down his spine as he released what had been pent up for so long. As he opened his eyes he caught the doctor’s gaze upon him. Bashir then coughed in embarrassment at being found out and turned his head. The guard shifted impatiently beside him and Garak shook the remaining droplets from his foreskin before also returning to his corner to be reshackled.

“That it?” the guard asked as he stepped back cautiously.

“Water would be nice not to mention a hot meal.” Garak requested, repeating the earlier suggestion made by the human beside him.

“Take it up with Dukat.” The guard replied once again, “All he said was you could take a shit or a piss, that’s it.”

“In that case, thank you. That will be all.” Garak replied dismissively.

The guard glared slightly at the regal tone Garak afforded him, but remained silent as he took the bucket to the far corner and poured it down a drain in the floor before joining his companions at the door.

As they left, Julian coughed again before looking up at his shackled wrists; “I would at least have liked to wash my hands.”

“I’m afraid we’ll just have to cope without hygiene for the moment.” Garak replied, shutting his eyes in repose.

“No food, no water, pissing in a bucket.” Julian scowled. “War is hell.”

“Indeed.”

~*~

Sisko gave the alien sitting across from his desk a dirty look, “That’s it?”

Morn nodded meekly.

“You mean he just offered you a free vacation to Bajor and you took it, no questions asked?” He snorted, “What am I saying? Of course you did. You never even suspected something was wrong when he told you that you had to be checked in under his name and send in these recorded transmissions?” he tossed a small isolinear rod on the desk angrily.

Morn gave a reluctant shrug in response.

“Get out of my office,” Sisko ordered, “I’m remanding you to Constable Odo’s custody so that you may be placed under house arrest until such time as you can be brought up on charges of conspiracy to defraud. Dismissed!”

Morn got up slowly and walked past Odo toward the two Bajoran guards standing just outside the glass panelled door.

“Morn!” The lumbering alien turned back toward the dark faced captain in trepidation. “By house arrest I mean your quarters, not Quark’s bar. Take even one step toward the Promenade and I’ll have security set their phasers on shoot to kill.”

Morn gave a sad groan before walking out the door once again.

“Morn?” Ezri looked at the alien in concern as he passed her on his way out.  As she entered the office she frowned at both Odo and Sisko in concern. “What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s under arrest.” Odo grumbled, crossing his arms over his narrow chest.

“Why?” She asked looking from one man to the other.

“Because your dear friend, Mr Garak, apparently decided to kidnap my shuttlecraft along with Dr. Bashir.” Sisko stated caustically.

“Why would he do that?” She replied incredulously.

“Excellent question.” Sisko picked up a baseball on his desk and squeezed it before palming it agitatedly from hand to hand.

“Perhaps Garak is still working for the Obsidian Order after all.” Odo suggested.

“Why take Dr. Bashir then? He’s of no strategic value.” Ezri countered.

“Perhaps he just got in the way.”

“I don’t think so.” Sisko replied as he continued to toss the white ball from one hand to the other. “There’s something, some other motive at work here.” He arose from his chair and placed the ball back in its holder. Turning to gaze at the starscape behind him he again began to speak. “What set him off?”

Ezri and Odo exchanged glances in silence before Sisko again turned to face them. “We’re missing something here.”

“I didn’t find anything in his data PADD or his quarters, not that I really expected to.” The changeling’s tone grew even more caustic than usual.

“You’ve been his councillor for a while now…” Sisko turned to the young Trill expectantly.

“I’m not about to violate doctor/patient privilege, Benjamin!”

“I’m not asking you to. All I want is some insight into what would motivate him to take off like this."

“I honestly don’t have a clue.” Dax said, “One second he was fine if a bit bored, the next he was coming to my office requesting a vacation.”

//O’Brien to Sisko//

“Yes, Chief?”

The red blond engineer looked over an ensign’s shoulder as the lights from the monitor emphasised his lined features. “We have the flight pattern on the runabout, Captain. Near as we can tell he was headed toward Orion space.”

//Thank you Chief. Inform me if Dr. Bashir tries to make contact.//

“Of course, sir.” The Chief replied before addressing the ensign whose monitor he was sharing. “Start scanning for any possible coded transmissions coming from the Orion sector.”

“But Chief…” The blue faced ensign turned to him, “that sector has tons of communications activity—most of it coded! It would take a miracle…”

“Then a miracle is what I’m asking for.” The Irishman rejoined, “Just do it, Ensign.”

“Aye, Chief.” She sighed before muttering under-breath, “I’ll bet you Uhura never had to put up with this crap.”

“Why would Garak go to Orion space?” Sisko’s self-questioning tone matched that of his unseen Bolean officer.

“Maybe he decided to give up on returning to Cardassia?” Ezri suggested, “The Orion syndicate is always looking for freelance assassins, especially ones with Garak’s experience.”

“Half of whom are already gunning for Garak anyway.” Sisko snorted, “No, it doesn’t make sense.”

Sisko looked up and noticed his security chief’s expression that had become somewhat troubled. “Constable?”

“Yes, Captain?”

“What aren’t you telling me?” The black man approached the shapeshifter curiously.

Odo cleared his non-existent throat, “I’m afraid that I’m not at liberty to say, sir.”

“Not at…have you lost your senses, Constable?” The captain returned angrily. “If you have any information pertaining to the disappearance of one of my senior officers then you’d better damn well say something now!”

“It…” He hesitated. “It has to do with Nerys.”

“I’m listening.” Both Sisko and Dax leaned in closer.

“She wouldn’t tell me everything, but she was headed toward that part of the quadrant.” Odo appeared contrite at having betrayed the information, but his concern for the missing woman was more important at the moment.

“Why, Odo?” Ezri asked before Ben could.

Odo looked up at them both; “All she said was that she had to find Dukat.”

“And you didn’t try to stop her?” Sisko burst out angrily.

“I could hardly force her to stay, sir.” Odo glared at him insolently even though his tone remained at a respectable level.

“Of course not.” The other man threw up his arms in disgust. “Have I completely lost control over my officers?”

Odo’s back stiffened in offence, “I did try to convince her to come to you, Captain, but she said it was personal and had nothing to do with the war effort.”

“And how is it she came to that ill advised conclusion?” He asked sarcastically, “How could her one woman mission to find the former leader of Cardassia—who, by the way, just happens to be a Federation fugitive-- not affect the war effort?”

“She said it was about her family.” Odo replied tightly, his eyes riveted to the floor.

“And you believed her?” Sisko snorted.

“Yes. I did.” The shapeshifter’s eyes flashed with uncommon fire as he looked at Sisko directly. “When it comes to finding her family, however dangerous it may prove to be, not only do I believe her, I sympathise.”

Before Sisko could continue his tirade, Dax stepped in between the two men. “What family, Odo?”

“I can’t say.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

Odo turned to his superior officer, “Can’t. She refused to explain. She said she didn’t want me involved in it.”

“Well, you are involved—up to your eye-teeth!” Sisko thundered, “If you weren’t such a valued officer I’d have you locked in your own brig until I could arrange a court-martial with the Bajoran Militia!”

“That’s your decision to make, sir.”

“Don’t tempt me!”

“Odo,” Ezri clasped him on his arm lightly, “you knew about this the whole time and you didn’t say anything even after you found out Garak and Julian had disappeared as well?”

“I had no reason to link the two.” Odo replied, his expression closed.

“Right.” Sisko turned his back on the other man so that he could instead glare out of the porthole, “I want you to scan all of Kira’s most recent data entries and if you find anything I want to know about it. Understood?”

“Yes sir.” Odo turned and left the office, his normally smooth gait now at a brisk cadence betraying his displeasure.

For a long moment both Dax and Sisko shared silent company. “When did I lose control over my people like this, old man?” He repeated, this time in a softer tone.

Ezri shrugged and perched on the edge of his desk. “Well, you never did have control over Garak, Benjamin. As for the rest…you can’t be the surrogate father figure to everyone, you know.”

“I don’t want to be a ‘father figure’, Dax! I just want to be left in the loop occasionally!”

“No you don’t.” She smiled sadly, “Maybe it’s my fault. As your teacher I probably should have kept a more professional distance, but I liked you too much. Curzon never did understand about boundaries. It installed in you the need to mentor your crew.”

“What’s so wrong with that?” he defended, suddenly feeling like a young and naive officer again as the girlish voice of his friend suddenly was replaced by three centuries and then some of experience putting him off balance.

“Nothing. Everything.” She reached over and patted his hand. “Ben, they’re your crew, not your kids. You can’t let it hurt your feelings when one of them decides to do something without consulting you first.”

 “This is a little bit more extreme than deciding to marry a Dabo girl or getting a tattoo and joining a rock band, Dax!” he snorted.

“True,” she agreed, “and when you find her you should reprimand her officer to officer for showing such an unprofessional disregard to her own safety and this mission. You should not, however, blast her because she didn’t let you in on her own personal business.”

“Message received.” He grinned at her ruefully, “Now let’s just find them so I can vent my ‘professional’ displeasure to them in person.”

“Ooh, they might wish they’d stayed lost!” Dax joked joining his as he exited his office.

Sisko’s face tightened in concern, “Somehow, I doubt that.”

~*~

The dark skinned doctor turned his head away instinctively as the guard tossed a handful of clothing at him. Garak, too, shut his eyes as clothing was thrown at him. Two guards came in with a large metal tub of water as another held his weapon on the chained prisoners, his eyes watching them carefully. One of the guards then reached outside the door and tossed one of the now infamous black bags toward them, barely missing Garak’s feet. The doors then slammed shut while at the same time the shackles on both their hands and feet snapped open.

Both men rubbed their joints in relief as a voice again sounded over the hidden speakers.

//Mr. Dukat requests that you bathe then dress for dinner.//

“It’s about time.” Julian sighed as he rose stiffly and padded toward the tub.

//If you attempt to escape or resist in any way, you will be taken care of.//

“Charming.” Garak drawled as he also rose to his feet painfully. “I must remember this place the next time I go on vacation.”

Julian limped toward the tub and splashed some of the hot water on his bloody and bruised face. “What’s in Dukat’s bag or tricks this time?” He gasped, coming up for air.

Garak grunted and leaned down to open the bag. He took out a metallic object and tossed it to the human who caught it deftly in one hand. “I think you can find a use for that, doctor.”

“Dermal regenerator.” He turned it over in his hand. “I’m sure I could.”

“Various toiletries, towels, soap..” he pulled out a roll of paper and tossed it to his companion, “You first.”

“Thanks.” Julian chuckled, “I was regretting not doing that when I had the chance an hour ago.”

“While you take the facilities,” he nodded toward the bucket, “to the far corner, I’ll clean myself off.”

“Save me some hot water.” Julian joked as he picked up the pail and walked into the shadows.

“I’ll try.” Garak hissed as he entered the tub feet first and then began to scrub at himself as roughly as his broken skin could stand before ducking his head under and soaping his black hair into a lather.

“So  *grunt*, why do you think Dukat decided to reward us with this bit of pampering all of the sudden?” He addressed his cellmate from the shadowed corner. “A fit of conscience, perhaps?”

“Hah!” Garak responded as he carefully washed his face, “I don’t think Dukat has ever had a fit of conscience in his long, miserable life!”

Julian tossed the paper into the bucket then walked toward the tub. “Some could say the same about you.”

“They’d probably be right, too.” Garak agreed as he regretfully got out of the tub, water splashing out a bit from his motions as he stepped onto the stone floor. “I, however, always allowed my prisoners the use of a proper shower and toilet.”

Julian tossed him the roll of tissue before stepping into the still hot water. “I suppose you were trying to win them over through kindness, right?”

“No.” Garak said as he squatted in the darkness. “I just didn’t want to smell them.”

Julian sniffed at his own hairy underarms and laughed as he scrubbed briskly. “I can understand that. Oh, don’t get dressed until after I’ve run that D.R. unit over you.”

“Right.” Garak sighed as he walked back toward the bag and dropped the remaining tissue back in before grabbing one of the thick towels and rubbing himself dry.

Julian watched the Cardassian as he bent over and rubbed the towel over his legs. For one suspended moment in time he allowed himself to take in the shape and contours of his friend’s thighs and buttocks. He tore his gaze away and gave a forced chuckle instead. “Why is it that the only time I ever seem to have a real discussion with you man to man, we’re in prison being tortured?”

“Luck?” Garak supplied dryly.

“I thought you didn’t believe in luck.” Julian said before diving under the water and snorting air through his nose.

Garak waited until he had surfaced before responding. “I don’t believe in coincidences. I do believe in luck to some extent however. In fact, I once prided myself in my ability to cause bad luck for many of my unfortunate fellow operatives.”

“If it’s of any comfort, you’re still causing bad luck for some of them.” Julian threw him a look, “Me for example.”

Garak arched his eyeridge as if mulling over Julian’s observation. “No, my friend, I’m afraid this falls under the category you humans refer to as ‘karma’. If I was the cause of this then I certainly wouldn’t be suffering along side you.” He smiled apologetically as he fashioned the towel around his midsection. “No offence.”

“Karma, huh?” Bashir responded, choosing to ignore his apology. “When did you develop an interest in Earth religions?”

“I do my research, doctor. It’s what made me such an invaluable tool to my father all those years.”

//You have twenty minutes to complete your preparations.//

“Bloody bastards.” Julian grumbled as he got out of the tub and accepted the towel Garak handed him. “Hand me the unit and turn around, if you don’t mind. Those welts on your back need a good going over.”

Garak turned obediently as Julian fashioned the towel around his waist, mimicking the Cardassian’s own makeshift mode of dress. Julian ran the instrument over the red and ragged welts, aiding the machine along by holding some of the wounds shut with his own fingers.

Garak’s breath hissed as the doctor touched him, as much from the sharp pain he felt as the seductive human’s own cool fingertips over his back. Pushing the inappropriate responses his body was suggesting aside, he gritted his teeth. “Don’t bother with being thorough. I’m fairly certain we’re in for more of the same treatment.”

Julian nodded slightly, “Most likely we will, but I’m not accustomed to doing a shoddy job.”

Julian then walked to the front of the Cardassian laying one finely boned hand on his scaled chest as he ran the dermal regenerator over his wounds. Garak remained tense but allowed his exploration to continue until the doctor reached down for the towel at his waist. He gripped his wrist firmly but gently and spoke in a no-nonsense tone, “That will have to do, doctor. Our time is running short and you have your own wounds to attend to.”

Julian sighed and reluctantly handed him the medical tool. “You’re right. Here, just concentrate on my face for now please. I think that’s where I took the most damage.” He smiled with swollen lips, “Feels that way at any rate.”

Garak stepped close to him and began to run the D.R. over his face, pausing at the more damaged areas and allowing the lasers to linger. He stepped in even closer; his breath intermingling with Julian’s own as he peered into the other man’s eyes. “The whites of your left eye are completely red.”

Julian held his breath slightly as he felt the Cardassian’s chest brush his own. He had the insane urge to take a step closer but quickly rejected the notion. It was the close confinement, that was all. He’d had similar urges the last time he and Garak were trapped together. He’d avoided his company afterward and sure enough the feelings had dwindled to a point where they were hardly noticeable as long as he remained a bit distant. Ridiculous, really. “I probably just burst a blood vessel. I can see fine, so I’m not worried about it. It’ll have to wait until later anyway without the proper equipment.” He stepped away and picked up some underwear from the floor that looked to be his approximate size. “Let’s just get dressed.”

Garak tossed the scanner into the bag carefully and splashed on some of the scent Dukat had provided before donning his own clothing. Julian pulled a comb through his thick, curly hair then tossed it over to his companion. “Thank you.” Garak replied.

//As soon as you are dressed, raise your hands above and behind your head. Make any aggressive movements and all privileges such as meals and water will be terminated.//

“Wouldn’t want that to happen.” Julian muttered as he hopped on one foot, pulling on one of the soft boots as provided by their ‘host’.

Again, the doors slid open as soon as they had done as was asked and two guards approached them with phaser rods, which were similar in both design and purpose as Klingon pain sticks. Two more guards focused disrupters on them as their colleagues carefully herded them along. The two armed guards took point, still levelling their weapons at them as they carefully made their way down a long windowless corridor. Bashir turned his head to confirm the presence of the other two attendants and received a painful jab of the stick for his efforts.

“Urk!” Julian almost lost his balance but Garak quickly caught him and helped him regain his footing.

“Hands back up!” The blond guard barked. “Next time I have to use my weapon it won’t be on low stun, understood?”

“Understood.” Garak agreed and Julian nodded as they continued to make their way down the hall. When they had finally the end of the passage, the door opened revealing yet another set of conservatively dressed human attendants, each holding an impressive piece of weaponry. Garak noted the fact that they worked in pairs with a great deal of professional interest. Truly a classy operation, indeed.

As they entered the large room, Julian and Garak both looked around and took in the appearance of the dining area as well as their ‘host’ who was sitting at the head of the long table with Kira at his side. Both were dressed attractively, if more than a little over dramatically. Again, Dukat had assumed a near regal posture, his clothing slightly medieval and done in red and black with gold epaulets. Kira was in a figure-hugging gown of blood red velvet, which Garak privately noted matched the carpeting a bit to well for the sake of good taste. Equally overdone were the furnishings. Heavy gold guild chairs with heavy carvings matched the marble and gold table and thick red and gold draperies that were shut tight against the sunlight.  Actually, the whole thing was done in such excess that Garak’s eyes began to ache with it. It was both obviously expensive and yet reminiscent of the ‘evil lairs’ the villains in Dr. Bashir’s holosuite adventures always seemed to prefer. “More clichés.” He sighed.

“I kind of like it.” Julian whispered in return.

“You would.” Garak said softly.

“Thank you, Julian. I’m rather fond of it myself.” Dukat said in a booming voice. “Oh, I may call you Julian?”

“Please.” The humans nodded with a tight smile, as they were each led to a chair and were seated. Their guards then stepped back and moved to the far walls but still remained at a vigilant state of attention.

“Eat!” Dukat said with a broad smile. “Drink up! I assure you the wine is of the best vintage.”

“Is it poisoned?” Garak inquired with a deceptively light tone.

“Probably.” Dukat smiled then took a long draught. “What does it matter? You’ll be dead soon anyway.”

Garak lifted his glass with a salute. “True enough.” He took a sip and swished it against his palate before swallowing. “Very nice.”

“Thank you.” Dukat nodded and watched as Bashir took a swallow as well, watching the two Cardassian’s banter with distrust. “Is it to your liking as well, doctor?”

“Actually, as good a vintage as this probably is, I’d prefer some water or tea.” He put down the stemmed glass. “I’m understandably thirsty and wine isn’t exactly conducive to relieving dehydration.”

“Of course, how thoughtless of me.” He rang a small silver bell at his side and the butler, Adams, emerged from what Julian assumed was the kitchen. “Some water for our guests. Oh, and when you bring out the place settings, make sure to cut their meat for them.” He nodded with a benevolent grin toward the two ‘guests’ in question. “I don’t think you’re quite ready to be trusted with knives, do you?”

‘Probably.” Garak rejoined and Dukat laughed heartily.

“Oh Elim! I always did appreciate your wit.” He leaned in. “At least the half you seemed to be in possession of.”

Julian winced at the usage of the pun while Garak merely awarded his adversary with a polite nod. “Very clever, sir.”

“Sir?” Dukat’s eyeridges rose in mock surprise. “Oh this is a miraculous turn, isn’t it? I do believe we’re ready to eat, don’t you?”

“Absolutely.” Garak agreed.

~*~

The young Bolean officer scowled and pressed the headset closer to her ear. “Hey Nog?”

The Ferengi looked up from his own monitoring station toward his crewmate. “Yeah?”

“Can you come listen to this for a minute?” She asked, her hairless brow wrinkling in frustration. “I’m picking up something, but I can’t quite catch it.”

Chief O’Brien looked over at the two in interest as Nog put on her headset. After a moment, the young ensign’s eyes opened wide in surprise.

 “What is it, Nog?” O’Brien asked intently.

“It’s…” The Ferengi looked at the communications officer with interest. “Where’d you get this?”

“Well,” she began, “When I couldn’t find anything concrete from the scans we made on the Orion sector, I decided to review Mr. Garak’s first transmission.”

“What is it?” The chief repeated gruffly.

“There’s a signal underneath the static in the transmission. I can’t quite…” He reached over and turned the volume all the way up, wincing at the feedback but remaining focused. “Yeah, now I hear it. It’s…it’s in some kind of code.”

Nog grabbed a PADD from a nearby workstation and began to type in the oblique message as quickly as he could. O’Brien frowned as he watched the first few symbols come into view then opened his mouth in surprise. “Fuck me sideways…” He threw the female officer an apologetic look. “Sorry. Nog—I want you and Ensign Jer`i to continue monitoring but on this frequency, understood?”

“Yes, chief.” The seated officer agreed weakly.

“But what does this mean?” Nog muttered, “Ally, ally, oxen free?”

~*~

“Never thought I’d be so happy to hear that Cardie ba-er-Garak’s voice in my life, Captain!” O’Brien grinned beatifically.

“Ally, ally, oxen free---well, obviously Mr. Garak and Julian’s lunches covered more than just Earth literature.” Sisko smiled triumphantly. “Our Mr. Garak has called off this game of hide and seek, Chief. Let’s go round up the players, shall we?”

“Yes sir.” O’Brien gave a relieved grin. “Now that we know the frequency it shouldn’t take more than an hour to get a definite bead on their homing signal.”

“I want a rescue party readied and waiting to take the Rio Grande toward their sector.” The captain ordered.

“Permission to go along, sir.” O’Brien asked.

“Granted.” Sisko nodded. “Is Mr.Worf back from his rotation with Martok’s crew yet?”

“No sir.”

“In that case, you’ll have the con. Dismissed.”

O’Brien headed out the door and back toward an expectant pair of ensigns below. “First bit of good news in a week!”
 
 

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