The BLTS Archive- I Can Only Speak My Mind
by Charlene (charlene.vickers@gmail.com)

---

Disclaimer:  Paramount generally has something to do with these things

---

He was returning to Deep Space Nine when the runabout took a direct
hit. He attempted evasive manoeuvres to no avail. The Jem'Hadar ship
had come out of nowhere, bearing down on him, overpowering the
runabout's pitiful defences with hit after hit. He had no chance,
really. His last thoughts were of his dearest Julian -- how he wished
he had taken the opportunity to tell him --

-- and he found himself waking up in the Infirmary in his presence.
Almost.

"He's coming around. 10 ccs of cordrazine."

There was definitely something wrong.

He felt the cool press of the hypospray into his neck and tried to
open his eyes, making out a faint impression of warm hazel-brown eyes
and a blue Starfleet uniform before the world spun around him.

"Don't try to get up yet," the curious voice continued as two hands
pushed him back into the biobed. "We almost lost you a couple of
times. You're on Starbase Nine. Just rest for now."

He closed his eyes and tried to follow the doctor's orders when he
heard footsteps and a very familiar voice in the other room. "How is
he, Doctor?"

Garak wondered for a second whether he had gone insane himself. Why
would Dukat be asking after him? Why would Julian be so --

"He'll make it, Captain."

Captain?! That was it: his mind had gone and his body would
undoubtedly soon follow. He rested and waited peacefully for death.
Maybe he would see Tain again...

More footsteps. "He's suffered a concussion, a few broken bones and
some plasma burns, but in a few days he'll be fine. We didn't find any
identification, but look at this." He heard the squeak of a monitor
being turned. "While I was regenerating the subdermal burns I noticed
an anomaly in his genetic pattern. Here: the quantum signature of the
RNA --"

"Doctor, I'm hardly a scientist." Dukat's voice wasn't annoyed though;
if anything it was -- affectionate?

If that surprised Garak, it was nothing compared to the next comment:
"Captain, if the data are correct, he's from another universe."

His eyes snapped open in shock, only to squeeze together as the bright
Infirmary lights pounded pain into his head. Gingerly opening them
again slowly, carefully, he took in his surroundings. If the Doctor's
data were accurate, he'd need to absorb as much information as
possible as quickly as possible if he had any chance of returning to
his own universe.

"That might tie in with the ship we found him in. Chief O'Brien says
it's similar to our transcraft, but everything's off just a bit.
Shield harmonics, transmission frequencies, even the decor. And the
communications device he was wearing when we brought him in --"

He looked around. The Infirmary seemed to be similar to the one on his
station, except perhaps a bit more understated in design. The two
nurses, one Human, one Cardassian, were wearing tailored dark blue
uniforms accented with gold piping. Quite attractive, the tailor in
him said, before he turned his attention to the two officers talking
in the doctor's office. Great Gul.

"--his DNA profile doesn't match anybody in Starfleet or in the
Cardassian civil service. Obviously if he's not from this universe he
may not even exist in ours--"

Gul Dukat, or Captain Dukat as he apparently was in this universe, was
resplendent in bronze. His uniform bore six white pips (funny how you
notice the little things at a time like this, Garak thought) and was
trimmed in the same gold as the nurses' outfits. Next to him stood a
tall physician in a blue uniform bearing three pips (a full
lieutenant, then), with the same caramel skin, brown hair, and dark
hazel eyes as his Doctor Bashir, but with one small difference. Or
two, he supposed.

He then noticed the name plate beside the office door.

Lt. Julia Bashir, MD.

---

The doctor had released him temporarily from sickbay with strict
orders to return by 2200 hours. He noted with curiosity that the
station apparently ran on the Starfleet 24-hour clock and not on the
Bajoran 26-hour one.

His vow to absorb every bit of information necessary to return to his
own universe had been somewhat irrelevant: Starbase Nine had fully
staffed scientific and engineering departments that were already
working on repairing the runabout and returning him to his own
universe. He really didn't have much to do but wait and recuperate.

The Promenade was quiet that evening. He passed a number of
Cardassians, Humans, Andorians, Trills...and one shapeshifter, who
stopped to speak with him.

"Mr. Garak, is it?"

"Yes. You must be Security Chief Odo."

The gruff man in red nodded. "I trust you're finding your stay on
Starbase Nine comfortable."

"It's a bit disconcerting. Many things are similar and yet -- even you
seem changed, Constable. Forgive me, Commander." Five pips.

"No apologies necessary."

Garak looked down into Quark's bar. Some things never change, he
thought, as he watched Morn downing a beer while ogling a Tellarian
dabo girl. Odo, though: where did he pick up that unflattering
Cardassian hairstyle?

He realized just then that he hadn't seen any Bajorans. He looked out
the viewports but the star patterns looked familiar. They were clearly
still in or near the Bajoran system. Further examination of the
Promenade revealed that the Klingon restaurant was now a Trill spa,
the Bajoran temple was a holosuite, and the Vulcan meditation room was
something called a pyrogy house. His own tailor's shop was a hallway.

"Do you still process uridium here?" he asked Odo.

"Not for the last seventeen years. The mineral's no longer required,
so Starfleet's remodeled the station into a starbase. We use the
interior as storage, mainly. It's generally a quiet station, outside
of the odd Klingon deciding to hold his Day of Honour here."

"Captain Dukat keeps a firm hand on things?"

"He's an excellent commanding officer."

"I noticed this afternoon that he appears to spend a lot of time in
and around the Infirmary."

Odo snorted so faintly Garak barely heard him. "Well, a small starbase
like this almost runs itself, and, well..."

Disconcerting indeed.

---

"How are you feeling this morning?"

Garak tried not to look in the face of the eager young doctor.
"Completely recovered, Doctor, thanks to your expert ministrations.
I've been down to my ship. Your engineering crews have the repairs in
hand so well that I felt perfectly superfluous. They all but shooed me
away."

She crossed her arms and smiled wistfully. "This must be a bit
overwhelming for you. Do you live on Starbase Nine in your universe?"

"Yes. I own a tailor's shop."

"Ah. That explains why you were alone on a military vessel and under
enemy fire when you came through that subspace field distortion, why
you once had a subcranial implant, why you had--"

"A tailor's life is anything but plain and simple in my universe,
Doctor," he said, raising a hand. "We're at war and even civilians are
unfortunately at risk. And I was not always a civilian."

"What were you? Starfleet Intelligence? Oh, don't tell me - some
secret agency?"

He couldn't help but laugh - apparently all Bashirs had the same
curiosity. "My dear --" but the words stuck in his throat. This was
not his dear doctor. "Madame. Have your scientists been able to track
the source of the field distortion?"

She raised an eyebrow at the change of subject but overlooked it.
"They're working on it. According to Lieutenant Kela, it was probably
a combination of your ship's shield harmonics, the frequency of the
energy weapons that were attacking your ship, and a natural energy
discharge in this universe. What that discharge was they don't know
yet. When they do, they hope they'll be able to send you back. At any
rate, Mr. Odo has arranged for quarters for you in the Habitat Ring,
section 17, and I'm sure you're looking forward to digging through our
databases to find out as much as you can about everyone you know."

"Very perceptive."

"It's what I'd do. I'd also comb the scientific databases for
information about the subspace field distortion, try to learn about
any tactical advantages our universe's ships might have over yours,
and so on and so on. Your terminal will of course be locked out of any
secure databases."

"Of course."

"I'm not sure if Mr. Odo's had time to complete all the security
details, so I'm wondering if you'd like to have lunch with me and a
few friends in the Automat."

"That's very kind, Doctor. Is Captain Dukat going to be there?"

She blushed red. "Um, no. He generally eats lunch in his office."

"Ah. Then shall we go? After you."

---

He picked at the -- what had she called it -- kimchee donair. He had
really wanted hasperat, but the replicators didn't seem to know what
that was.

"The problem with Romeo and Juliet is that it isn't a romance as much
as it is a warning to parents. Juliet is a thirteen-year-old
uneducated girl, barely through puberty if even that given the state
of health back then, who's on emotional tenterhooks about being forced
to marry an older man she barely knows. Suddenly Romeo, who I remind
you is twenty years old, swoops in and manipulates her into having sex
with him. It might not strictly be pedophilia, but it's pretty damn
close."

Strange, he thought, that his Dr. Bashir had never mentioned this. It
was true that in some versions of the play Romeo was sixteen, but in
others --

Strange, too, that both the Doctors Bashir would be so passionate
about Shakespeare -- and so garrulous -- but in such different ways.
"So you don't think that Shakespeare understood romance?" he said.

"I think he understood romance very well. The problem is that
sometimes we don't understand him. Look at Portia in The Merchant of
Venice. Why is she taking the upper hand?"

"Isn't that common with Humans?"

"Not at the time. Even now many Humans expect the man, or the more
experienced person, to take the initiative," she said. Her eyes
flickered for a fraction of a second towards Ops, a movement Garak did
not miss. "At that time, though, a wealthy Italian woman such as
Portia would have been married off at an early age. You have to wonder
if the original stage directions didn't call for Portia to have
smallpox scars or congenital syphilis. And why does she choose
Bassanio? It's obvious that he and Antonio are lovers."

Garak almost choked on his tea. "My dear, you are clearly delusional.
There is little evidence in the text for that."

"You want evidence? All right. Most of the discussions between
Bassanio and Portia are about money; there's clearly no love between
them. On the other hand, Antonio calls Bassanio his sweet on four
separate occasions. The two of them spend three days together, alone,
feasting - a nice euphemism - after the wedding before Bassanio deigns
to arrive at Belmont for the honeymoon. When he does arrive he brings
Antonio with him. How many men do you know who bring their best friend
along for their wedding night? Face it, Mr. Garak, Portia is a silly
fool who's trying to insinuate herself between two men who are
desperately in love with each other -- Ziyal! Over here!" She waved at
a tall half-Cardassian woman in the doorway. "Amsha!"

"MOMMY!" A little black-haired girl barrelled through the Automat and
jumped into the doctor's lap, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Grandpa
Curzon's here!"

"He is?" the doctor asked, ignoring the smiles of those sitting at the
surrounding tables. "Well, that's wonderful. Now sit nicely. We have a
guest. Say hello to Mr. Garak."

The dark-skinned young girl turned to Garak and gave him a huge smile,
one he had seen a hundred times before on a much larger face. Great
Gul indeed. "Hello, Mr. Grok."

"Garak, honey. When did Curzon get in?" she asked Ziyal, who had
crossed to the table. "Oh, I apologize, where are my manners? Elim
Garak, may I introduce Ziyal Dukat. She looks after Amsha during the
day. Also my daughter, Amsha Bashir. Ziyal, Mr. Elim Garak. He's, um,
visiting Starbase Nine."

"My pleasure." Garak stood and bowed formally before retrieving a
chair for her. This Ziyal was so similar to his Ziyal, if he could
call her that, but there was something...

"Welcome to Starbase Nine, Mr. Garak." She smiled at him, then turned
back to Julia as she took her seat. "Ambassador Dax's ship docked
about thirty minutes ago. He should be here any moment now. Amsha's
been flying off the walls ever since she heard his voice."

And it hit him. She was half-Cardassian, but the other half was Trill,
not Bajoran.

What had his people done? And why did Starfleet with their famous
ethics not seem to care?

"Ladies!" A deep bass voice rumbled. "How's my favourite
granddaughter?" a broad-shoulder older Trill said as he picked the
giggling child up and swung her around. He turned to the doctor. "And
how are you, dear?"

"I'm fine, Curzon; it's so nice to see you. Garak, may I introduce my
guardian, Ambassador Curzon Dax. Curzon, this is Elim Garak. He's
visiting the station."

Garak felt six inches tall under the Trill's black stare. "Mr. Garak."

The doctor, apparently ignorant of Dax's intimidating stare, stood up
and kissed her daughter on the cheek. "I have to get back to work. Mr.
Garak hasn't been to his quarters yet; I'll comm Odo and get someone
to show him to the Habitat Ring."

Curzon cut in. "That won't be necessary, Julia dear. I'll see him
there." He gave the child to Ziyal. "Where are his quarters?"

"Section 17," Garak said hollowly, wondering why he suddenly felt like
a trapped vole.

"Very well then, I'll show you the way. I'll see you later, Amsha
sweetie." He gestured for Garak to follow him.

They entered the turbolift. Garak was about to make a pleasantry when
Dax suddenly pressed the emergency stop button, grabbed Garak by the
throat, and held him up against the wall. His voice was low, hard.

"Mr. Garak. My ward is a beautiful woman, but she has been hurt before
and badly. You lay one finger on her and I will personally decorate
the outer pylons of this station with your guts. Do you understand
me?"

"Perfectly," he managed to croak out before Dax let him go.
"Ambassador," he continued as he rubbed his throat, "I can assure you
that I have no romantic interest whatsoever in," and he chose his
words carefully, "in Julia Bashir, or in any woman for that matter, in
this or any universe."

Dax looked at him strangely, then relaxed and gave Garak a sheepish
look. "Forgive me. I tend to be a bit overprotective after, well--" He
snorted a laugh. "You probably aren't used to angry fathers
threatening you."

"Only my own," he said truthfully as Dax restarted the turbolift. "By
hurt, you mean Amsha's father, don't you?"

"Lying piece of dirt he was. Oh he showed up here one day full of piss
and mystery, charming as all hell, and -- well if there's anything she
likes it's a mystery. She was so young and innocent. The bastard hung
around just long enough to find out she didn't have any Federation
secrets - oh, and long enough for her to fall in love with him. Then -
pfft! he disappeared, leaving nothing but a broken heart. Well, and
Amsha." His eyes softened. "I suppose one good thing came out of it.
That and the fact that maybe she grew up a bit." He sighed as they
exited the turbolift. "But other than that...I tell you, Mr. Garak,
more than the pylons will be redecorated the day Benjamin Sisko shows
his face on this station again, and I won't be the only one doing the
redecorating."

---

He would have found it fascinating had he been certain he would be
able to return. To never see Julian's face again -- he would not think
of that. He would find a way home. It just felt uncharacteristically
painful to interact with the people in this universe. He wanted to
crawl into a ball and hide in his quarters.

He should enjoy it, he knew. In this universe he wasn't an exile or an
enemy. People smiled at him on the Promenade, men flirted with him,
children giggled at him. Nobody hated him. But Julian wasn't here, and
everybody was so damned polite. It was just -- disturbing. Almost
chilling, he thought.

He recalled what he had learned in the past two hours. According to
the databases he had accessed, Sisko was a unsavory character, a
mercenary and a spy. Jadzia was unjoined and still Jadzia Kela. The
previous Dax host in his universe, Curzon, was still alive in this
universe and an ambassador, but somewhat of a loose cannon (to say the
least) with respect to his ward. O'Brien was the head of Engineering
but he and Keiko had divorced after Molly's birth. Odo had joined
Starfleet six years after being found in the Denarios Belt. As for
himself, Enabran Tain and Mila Garak had apparently never met, so
there was no Elim Garak in this universe. He snorted: there was barely
one in his own.

Nothing had prepared him, though, for the differences in his two
loves. Julian was a woman: Cardassia was a founding member of the
Federation. He didn't know which was worse.

And Bajor. Before he had searched the databases, he had been concerned
that Cardassia had somehow committed an act of genocide against the
Bajoran people. He had never seen the Bajorans as equals, of course,
but he had never considered them a species deserving of destruction.
Perhaps some of the Doctor's Federation ethics were beginning to wear
into him, since he would have been shocked had Cardassia wiped out the
Bajora.

But in this universe the Bajora had never existed. The most advanced
native life form on the planet was a non-sentient species of aquatic
mammal. Cardassia had eventually colonized the planet, which had
relieved the population pressures on Cardassia Prime, which had in
turn apparently changed the course of history. There had been no
empire, no Obsidian Order, no brutal authoritarian regime (at least
not in the last 400 years), no torture chambers, no Detapa Council, no
league with the devil. Cardassia was a founding member of the United
Federation of Planets. A peaceful planet at ease with its past.

And then there was Julia. Born on Earth to Richard and Amsha Bashir.
Amsha, the mother, had died when Julia was four years old; eight
months later, Richard Bashir was sentenced to life in prison for first
degree murder and, secretly (although Garak had to bypass Odo's
pitiful security systems to find this out) for crimes against
humanity. He had died in prison eight years later. Garak shook his
head and wondered if Julia knew. She had been adopted after the trial
by Ambassador Curzon Dax, who appeared to have had something to do
with the court proceedings. Roedean School...Cambridge University two
years...Starfleet Academy Medical...he was surprised she had been
admitted. Then posting to Starbase Nine...two years later, Amsha the
daughter had been born.

On a whim, he looked up Dukat. Apparently he was a respected
commanding officer in this universe, highly thought of by both his
superiors and his subordinates. Twice married, once divorced, once
widowed. He had five children, four living on Cardassia, and one,
Ziyal, living on Starbase Nine with her father. He enjoyed watching
Parrises Squares. Mild-mannered, gentle, kind to children; a
thoroughly decent man. Quark irritated him. Then again, Quark
irritated everyone.

Garak checked with Engineering again. His ship would be ready in
sixteen hours. Science was still working on the subspace field
distortion problem but hoped to have an answer within eight hours.

The door chimed.

He stood. "Come."

Ambassador Dax entered. "Good evening, Mr. Garak. Do you have a
moment?"

"For you, Ambassador, of course. Please, take a seat. May I offer you
something?" he asked, looking askance at the unfamiliar replicator.

"No, that's fine. Captain Dukat told me what happened. It must be
rather strange for you to be uprooted and thrown into a completely
different universe."

"It would have been, had it been a completely different universe,"
Garak said as the ambassador sat across from him. "The truth is that
it isn't completely different. It's just different enough, which makes
it even stranger."

"In what way? Oh, and by the way you should know that I've been
monitoring your computer use. I must hand it to you; some of those
algorithms you used to elude Mr. Odo's security protocols were quite
elegant."

"Thank you. It's been years since I've been able to put them to good
use. As to your other question: it might be simpler if I didn't
recognize anyone, or if everyone were the opposite of their
counterparts in my universe. But to meet someone who is similar but
not quite the same is somewhat disturbing." He sighed. "I assume
you're here because of what I found in my searches."

"Perceptive man. You're not going to say anything, are you?"

"Ambassador, if there's one thing I am good at, it's keeping a secret.
I promise I won't say a thing." He paused. "She doesn't know, does
she?"

Their eyes met. "I honestly don't know. I don't want to bring it up in
case she doesn't. We got there in time, thank God: obviously they
hadn't gone through with it yet. They didn't convict him because of
her. There were others. Dozens. Apparently Richard was acting as a
middleman and Amsha - Julia's mother - threatened to tell."

Garak frowned at that. Then why -- "Our Dr. Bashir knew. It all came
out in the open a year or so ago. Jul - Dr. Bashir - almost lost
everything."

"Richard went through with it?"

"Yes, but they were both in on it."

"Both of them? The bastards. No wonder you checked. Do you know that
90% of the kids that went through it in our universe ended up
committing suicide?"

He blinked. "In our universe, most of the children who endured the
procedure were diagnosed with disabling mental illnesses in adult
life."

Curzon shook his head. "Different specifics, perhaps. It's amazing
what people will do in the name of supposedly improving their
children. I've enroached on too much of your time, Mr. Garak. Thank
you for your understanding. Good night." They both stood and went to
the door. As he left, he turned and said with a touch of sadness, "I
think I understand now why you want to return to your home universe so
badly."

Leaving Garak to wonder what the Ambassador had meant.

---

He strolled through the Promenade the next morning, contemplating what
he could safely tell Sisko about this universe without being thrown
out of an airlock, when he spied Dukat leaning against the upper
railing.

Last night after Ambassador Dax had left he had searched further in
the station's databases. Unwilling to tap into the residents' personal
logs (if only because he was aware Ambassador Dax would know, and
would not be particularly pleased), he instead broke into Quark's
betting pools. You could learn a great deal about station residents
from what they bet on.

Of the seventeen pools currently running, eleven had to do with when
or where the station's commanding officer was going to bed, propose
to, or marry the station's chief medical officer. The total held by
Quark in these pools was just over seven thousand strips of latinum.

If Elim Garak knew anything, he knew that where there was smoke, there
definitely was fire.

He walked over to the Captain, not quite believing what he was about
to do. Especially since the Captain was really no different from him.

"Good morning, Sir. I just wanted to thank you for your hospitality
over the past three days."

"It's been our pleasure, Mr. Garak. I hear you're leaving us this
afternoon if everything goes as planned. Chief O'Brien says your ship
should be ready by 1200 hours." He watched the doctor as she travelled
towards the Infirmary. "You must be relieved to be finally going
home."

He screwed up his courage. "Captain, if I may, could I talk to you
privately for a moment on a personal matter?"

"A personal matter? If you wish, of course. We can go to my office."

They took the turbolift to Ops and went into Dukat's office; the door
closed behind them. "What can I help you with, Mr. Garak?" Dukat said.

"Tell her."

"Pardon me?"

"Speak your mind. It's obvious to everybody on this station, and
possibly to inhabitants of adjacent sectors, that you're in love with
her, but from what I've gathered you haven't said a word to her. I've
been here 48 hours and already it's obvious to me that you, as the
Humans say, worship the ground she walks on."

Dukat turned to stare out a viewport, clearly flustered. "It's not
that easy. I have Ziyal, and my job, and..."

Garak walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Captain, I
live in a war zone. Every few days somebody I know dies. I haven't
mentioned it because I didn't think it was necessary to reveal that
information. But war can break out at any time. Do you really want to
spend the best years of your life waiting and watching only to lose
her in battle? If you're --"

"Odo to Captain Dukat."

"Dukat here."

"Captain, we have a disturbance at Quark's Bar. Ambassador Dax is
apparently trying to kill Quark."

"What? I'll be down there right away."

As Garak followed Dukat out of Ops, he took Jadzia aside. "Ask Dr.
Bashir to meet us in Quark's immediately. I'm afraid this concerns
her."

Dukat and Garak arrived at the bar to find Quark ducking punches from
an enraged Dax while Commander Odo was doing his best to get between
them.

"You bloody bastard!" Dax shouted. "I'm going to rip you from eye to
asshole and--"

"Ambassador!" Dukat interjected, trying to hold back the older man.
"What are you doing? This is so - unambassadorial!"

Dax pointed at the cringing Ferengi. "This waste of fluids is taking
bets on Julia's - personal life!"

"Her personal life -- you don't mean -- " and he let go of Dax.
"Quark, you were -- Ambassador, step aside. Allow me to have the
honour!" He grabbed Quark by the collar and slammed him against a
wall. Dax stared at the captain, apparently impressed.

"Captain!" Odo shouted.

"Captain Dukat, perhaps you should reconsider --" Garak said as he
tried to intervene.

Dukat paid no heed. "This time you've gone too far, Quark. I'm going
to --"

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE!?!"

All five men froze as a furious young woman stomped into the bar.

"WHAT are you two doing?" Julia said to Curzon Dax and Dukat. "Let go
of him."

"He was taking bets on your personal life!" Dax said as the Ferengi
wiggled free.

"I had to protect you!" Dukat added.

She stared at him. "Why do you have to protect me?" she said in a
small voice.

"Because --" He looked at Garak for a second, then turned back to
Julia as if he were making the biggest decision of his life. "Because
-- I love you."

Not a breath was taken; not a sound was made.

Julia eventually spoke. "I love you too, Senn. But that doesn't mean
you have to protect me as if I were made of Betazoid crystal." She
looked at Curzon. "That goes for you, too."

"Well, then--" Quark began.

"SHUT UP!" she interrupted, pinning the bartender with a scowl. "Were
you taking bets on my sex life, you little weasel? Answer me!"

"I, um --"

"Fine, then. How much?"

"How much? Well, not that much...just a bit..."

"7,115 strips of gold-pressed latinum," Dax interjected.

Julia's glare was fierce enough to tear a bulkhead apart. "Seven
THOUSAND...all right. This is what you're going to do. First, you're
going to agree in writing not to press charges against anyone in
connection to what happened today. Second, by 1900 hours today you
will have refunded every bar, slip and strip of latinum that has been
bet on my personal life. Is that clear?"

The Ferengi's eyes were wide with fear. "Crystal," he squeaked.

"Third," she continued," by 0700 hours tomorrow I will have a
notarized, verifiable receipt on my desk showing that you've made a
donation in the amount of 7,115 strips of gold-pressed latinum to the
Cardassian Orphans' Relief Fund."

Quark suddenly looked frantic. "Doctor, please-"

"And FOURTH, there will be a hand-written apology from you on my desk
at 0700 tomorrow including a promise that you will never bet on my
personal life ever again. Trust me, Quark, do as I say. You do not
want to get on my bad side." She spun on her heels and walked out,
Captain Dukat three steps behind her.

"What a woman," Quark eventually croaked.

---

"So when you get to the co-ordinates," O'Brien said, "we'll surround
you with the tractor beam. Then you'll raise shields on the frequency
we've programmed. We'll modulate the tractor beam, add the modified
energy signature, and that should do it."

"An elegant solution, Chief. What happens if it doesn't work?"

"There's no risk. We'll bring you back in and we'll go back to the
drawing board. But we're pretty confident it'll work."

"Thank you for all your help. I know it's been a great amount of work
for your people and I do appreciate it."

O'Brien shrugged. "Truth be told, we don't have much to do around here
most days. It's nice to have a bit of a challenge. Good luck, Mr.
Garak."

"Thank you, Chief."

He was about to exit through the airlock when he heard her voice. "Mr.
Garak. Do you have a minute? I just wanted to thank you. I understand
you pushed Senn a bit this morning."

"More of a nudge than anything. I don't even know why I did it. It's
not like me to be nice to Dukat."

"Is it like you to be nice to Julia?"

"In my universe I would do anything for Dr. Bashir." He chuckled. "I
had better leave you before Dax threatens me again."

She laughed. "Oh no, did he try to wipe the Promenade with you? He's
so overprotective. He's been that way ever since he found me on
Adigeon Prime."

"You remember?"

"He doesn't know, but -- I remember." She shuddered. "I remember never
being good enough for my birth father. No matter how well I did in my
exams, how high my marks were, I was never good enough."

"You were in school when you were five?" Garak asked hollowly.

"Yes, in gifted classes," she replied. "But there was one little thing
I was missing, so Dad decided to take me to Adigeon Prime. I must have
missed the treatment by only a few hours."

"Treatment--"

"Sex change. Can you imagine me, a man? Anyway, I should let you get
back to your universe." She gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Good luck,
Mr. Garak." And she left.

---

Captain Sisko met him at the airlock. "Welcome home, Garak. We were
wondering what had happened to you."

"To be honest, Captain, I was wondering the same thing." He held out a
padd. "I spent the time in an alternate universe. I hope you don't
mind that I took the liberty of preparing a full report. Two full
reports, in fact. Both fully document my actions and experiences, but
the abridged report leaves out some of the more, shall we say,
inexplicable details about the individuals whose counterparts serve
aboard this station."

The Captain looked at him over the padd. "It couldn't be as bad as
that, Garak?"

"It wasn't. Read them, Captain, and you'll see my point."

"I'll do that. Oh, and Dr. Bashir wanted to let you know that he's in
surgery right now but he'll be out as soon as he can."

"Thank you, Captain."

Forty minutes later he was in his quarters when his door chimed.
"Enter."

He didn't remember Sisko being such a lovely shade of red before.

"Are you quite well, Captain?"

"I, um -- thank you for the abridged report. I'll be filing it. You
know, Dr. Bashir was quite upset when he thought you'd been killed."

"He was?" Garak asked, sounding much too excited. Tone it down, Elim.
"I'd think that with the war, he wouldn't have time to spare a thought
for me."

"And I'm sure you abridged the report to spare my feelings."

"Of course, Captain. Even a civilian should be considerate of his
commanding officer's reputation."

Sisko raised an eyebrow. "Good night, Mr. Garak."

As he left he bumped into Dr. Bashir, who was just arriving. "Oh,
sorry, Captain." Sisko jumped aside and scooted out of the way. "I
wonder what's wrong with him. Garak, it's good to see you. We thought
-- I'd thought --" and he swallowed convulsively.

Time to follow your own advice, he told himself. Speak your mind.

"Doctor, I know what you thought. For a few moments I thought it
myself. Sit down, please." He gestured to the sofa; they sat down. "I
don't know if Captain Sisko told you that I spent three days in an
alternate universe. Just before I arrived in that universe, however, I
was certain that I was about to die in a Jem'Hadar attack." He looked
down at his hands. "You know I'm not very good at being honest or
straightforward but I'm going to try so please bear with me. Julian,
the last thing I thought about before I thought I was going to die was
you."

"Me."

"You." He turned to Julian, took his hands in his. "Julian, I realized
in that moment that I had never told you how much I cared about you. I
know you probably don't feel the same way, and you probably see me as
some ridiculous old-"

He hadn't really expected his lips would be so soft, or that he would
ever have the chance to find out. He deepened the kiss, pressed Julian
down into the cushions, wrapped his arms around him as if this were
the last he would ever have of him.

They finally separated. "I didn't think you'd ever kiss me."

"I didn't think you'd ever let me."

"I will. I mean - I would - you've turned the most articulate man in
the Cardassian Empire into a tongue-tied fool, do you know that?" He
reached out and drew Julian into his arms. "I won't tell you about
what happened in the alternate universe. I will say that I learned
from a very wise man that it's foolish to waste time pretending that
one is not in love."

He felt Julian smile against his shoulder. "Who was this sage?"

"My dearest Julian, his name was Elim Garak."

---

The End