Ever But Slenderly

by cardie-ologist

Subj: Ever But Slenderly O/K (R) 1/4
Date: 1/28/99 1:49:03 PM MST
From: cardie-ologist (cardieologist@webmail.bellsouth.net)

This story is the epilogue to the "Odo on Terok Nor" trilogy. It somehow ended up also being my first bona fide O/K and my first story told from Kira's point of view. Since this is not my usual fanfic territory, I'm particularly eager to hear reactions!

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Ever but Slenderly O/K (R)

SUMMARY: Garak throws a party to celebrate Dukat's death during the seige of Cardassia Prime. The event brings back painful memories for both Odo and Kira, threatening to drive a wedge between them

DISCLAIMER: Paramount Pictures owns these characters and situations, except for the ones I made up.

***

Kira shuddered as she stepped into Quark's. It was as if the Orb of Time had returned her to that night on Terok Nor when she came to the bar desperately seeking the Ferengi's agreement, for a price, to provide the alibi that might save her life. The sinisterly subdued lighting, the heat, the Cardassian banners hung from the rafters were all just as they had been over a decade before.

Odo's hand, which had been resting on her shoulder, migrated to her neck, the fingers moving up and down several times in soft caresses, then travelling on down her bare back . "You're shivering, and you certainly can't be cold, despite the lack of coverage this dress provides, what with the temperature at Cardassian comfort levels," he said with concern in his voice. "Is something wrong, Nerys?"

She squeezed his other hand. To think that the man she had feared would bring her life to an end that night had saved it, and had eventually become her beloved. "No. It's just that, well, seeing the place like this, like it was under the Occupation, it brings back memories."

"Hmf, and certainly not pleasant ones. Not for me, either. Perhaps we shouldn't stay."

For an instant she was tempted, but then she saw their host hurrying toward them. "Too late," she whispered. "Garak's spotted us."

"Constable, Colonel, there you are!" the tailor exclaimed in greeting, "I had quite despaired of your coming to my little gathering to celebrate the liberation of my homeworld."

"Odo had to work late processing a couple of Liseppian smugglers he caught trying to transfer Federation transtaters to a Romulan freighter. He wanted me to go on ahead, but I preferred to wait for him."

"How charming; there's nothing like being in love, or so they tell me." Then the Cardassian cocked a brow-ridge and gave the two of them an odd look. "I must say, it was quite inconsiderate of those smugglers to interfere with my party plans, eh Odo. No matter. You're here now. All drinks are on my account, and there's a sumptuous buffet over against that wall. When you're settled in at a table, I'll tell you about all the other entertainment I've put together for my guests' enjoyment."

They nodded their thanks to their host and proceeded further inside. Most of the tables were filled, and large, boisterous crowds huddled around the dart board, cheering on two players, both Bajoran security deputies. "I certainly never knew that Merona and Nal were fond of Chief O'Brien's game," Odo sniffed.

"And I never knew that it was polite for guests to leave a party to go to the holosuites," Kira replied, pointing to the stairs to the upper level, upon which a steady stream of people were both ascending and descending.

"Perhaps it has something to do with the entertainment Garak mentioned." Odo said. "Shall you go get something to eat before we sit down? It's hours past your usual dinner time."

"Yeah, and I skipped lunch." Kira gave a rueful grin. "I really am famished."

The buffet table was indeed sumptuous, piled high with delicacies from a dozen worlds, platters of squirming gagh and wriggling tube grubs, casseroles of jambalaya and ratamba stew, larish and tuwally pies. Kira took a soup bowl and stood trying to decide between the plomik and the she crab. Glancing down idly, she saw one of the ubiquitous Cardassian insignia gracing the tablecloth. Another shudder went through her, as a memory far older than her tense days on Terok Nor completely possessed her . . .

*Every time the lightning flashed, the terrible beast that was the emblem of their Cardassian oppressors seemed alive there on the wind-whipped tent-flap. Pol had gotten soaked when he went outside to see if Father was coming back, and now he was feverish and coughing. Nerys made him take off his wet clothes and cuddle between her and Rian under the one thin blanket the Cardassians had rationed to their family of four. "It's just temporary," the soldier who led them to the tent had insisted. "The permanent housing units will be equipped and ready for occupancy tomorrow. You Bajorans just walked too quickly getting here from the Pentha camp." That "tomorrow" had been yesterday, and the downpour had lasted all three of the days, and the housing units still weren't ready, and, worst of all, the food supplies hadn't arrived yet. All they had been provided at the new location were the tent, the blanket, and a feeble portable light-emitter that gave off no heat; the soup bowls and one change of clothing were all they had been permitted to bring with them from their previous camp, twelve kilometers distant. Father had said that it was so typically Cardassian to supply them with bowls but no food to put in them. At least the bowls were good for collecting rainwater, so that thirst didn't accompany their hunger.

Pol had drifted off into fitful sleep, but a particularly loud thunder clap awakened him, and he started to cry. "Nerys, please get father, I'm scared," he whimpered. Nerys held him close to her. "Father's trying to find some food. There's nothing to be scared of. It's only the storm," she said. But Pol stuck a skinny arm outside the blanket and pointed at the blowing tent flap, "No, Nerys, it's the beast, the carrion bird. Danel's father says that it's just waiting for all us Bajorans to die so that it can eat the flesh from our bones. That's why the Cardies put its picture everywhere. He says that they could move all the people from the three camps to this one because the carrion bird already fed on so many that they don't need much room for us anymore. I don't want to die and have it eat me, too. Please, please make Father come back and chase it away."

"Danel's father doesn't know what he's talking about." It was all Nerys could think of to say, because, even at 10, she knew in her bones that Danel's father was right. There was no comforting truth to be given to her little brother, so a flat-out lie was the only substitute she had to offer.

"Trust Nerys," Rian chimed in. "Carrion birds have feathers, but spoon-heads have scales. The beast is no bird, it's a big, hooded snake. And it doesn't have to wait till we're dead. Vedek Prarem Olar says that the Cardassian serpent has swallowed Bajor whole, and we're just waiting to be digested."

With that, Pol began to wail, "No, no, I don't want a snake to eat me either." Nerys punched her other brother. "Great, Rian," she hissed. "Did you have to make him even more upset?"

Before Rian could apologize for his manifestation of the congenital Kira family bluntness, their father came into the tent. He was wet through, and exhaustion showed in his slow movements and dark-encircled eyes. But he was smiling. "Children, good news. You know how suspicious old grandmother Hebet is. Well, she didn't trust the Cardassians to feed us, and she hid five loaves of pokata bread in her skirts and three jars of moba jam in her head scarf. The Prophets know how long she's been hoarding ingredients. When she heard that Pol was ill, she gave me half a loaf and three spoonfuls of jam. Come and eat, children."

They devoured the bread and jam in only a few seconds. Then Father wrapped Pol in the blanket and held him tight on his lap. Rian and Nerys shivered as the damp air penetrated their ragged clothing, but they didn't complain. Making Pol well had to come ahead of comfort. People who got sick in the camps and didn't get better soon, usually never got better at all.

Pol snuggled against his parent with a look of contentment on his flushed face. "You're going to keep the beast far away from me aren't you, Father? You won't let the Cardie snake swallow me whole?"

Their father said nothing. Nerys counted the mounting seconds of silence with growing alarm. Then her eyes met Father's, and they exchanged the grim knowledge in one despairing glance. Father would not lie to Pol, as she had done, and the truth was too terrible to say.

"You won't will you, Father?" Pol asked again, starting to sniffle.

Kira Taban kissed his youngest son's forehead and tousled his hair. "Pol, have you ever heard the story of the great serpent Saurapigon?" The boy only shook his head, sniffling some more.

"Well, this snake had the biggest appetite anyone could imagine. And he swallowed trees, and houses, and whole mountain ranges in one gulp."

"No snake could do that!" protested Rian, who then received a vicious kick from his sister.

"But one day," Father continued, "Saurapigon had eaten up everything on his planet, and there was nothing left but to swallow his tail and eat his own self up. And that's just what's going to happen to the Cardie snake too."

"Really, Father, you're sure?" said Nerys, not forgetting that hopeless look in his eyes a few seconds before.

"I don't know when, but it will happen some day. I promise you that, Nerys ." *

"Nerys! --"

Kira jumped as she felt Odo's hand on her shoulder. "Wh-hat?"

"You've been staring at the soup for five minutes. I was--what's wrong Nerys? You're crying."

She hastily wiped the backs of her hands across both cheeks, which were indeed wet with tears. "Sorry," she replied, embarrassed. "For some reason I started thinking about the winter in the camps when my brother Pol caught the bronchitis that eventually killed him. Just another bad memory. I'm all right now."

"I don't think so. We should leave. There's no reason to upset yourself like this just to fulfill a social obligation."

"Listen, Odo, I'm not about to run away from a celebration of the conquest of Cardassia." She was aware that her voice was rising, but she didn't care. "I've waited too long for Dukat and the rest of them to finally pay for what they did to us."

He just stood there with his arms crossed, saying nothing, but his whole face and bearing expressing disagreement. She kissed him on the cheek. "You know I can take care of myself. I'll just get some food, and then we'll go find a table."

"If you insist," he replied, his worried blue eyes continuing to reveal his misgivings.

Kira resolutely went down the buffet line, spooning out food at random, daring the Cardie-beasts on the tablecloth to intimidate her. "You were right, Father," she thought as she reached the desserts. "The snake did finally swallow his own tail. The Cardassians battled us for three months, down to the last soldier, but now their planets are in ruins and Federation, Klingon, and Romulan troops are occupying them. You didn't live to see it, Father, nor Pol or Rian--or Mother-- but I survived to bear witness to it. I owed that to all of you." She fiercely sliced some tuwally pie and slammed it down on her plate.

***

So many revelers had arrived before them that finding somewhere to sit was no easy task. As she scanned the room looking for a vacant place, she heard the excited chirp of Ezri Dax, "Kira, Odo, come join us. We can make room." It took them a second to locate the diminutive counselor, who was standing on tiptoes and waving her arms above her head in an effort to be seen over the crowd. She was at a table directly to the left of the bar, sitting with Dr. Bashir and Miles and Keiko O'Brien. After some borrowing of unoccupied chairs, Kira and Odo squeezed themselves in between the doctor and the Chief.

"We wondered if you were going to make it," Bashir said after the initial exchange of pleasantries. "I think you'd have been the only people on the station absent if you hadn't come. It's quite a party. But that's hardly a surprise, considering who the host is "

"Actually I *was* somewhat surprised that the liberation' of his homeworld would put Garak in such a festive mood, considering the terrible toll the Cardassians have paid in the process," Odo demurred.

Bashir grinned. "Come on, Constable, those elegantly engraved invitations may have defined the occasion as the liberation of Cardassia from the Dominion, but you'll see soon enough that this is really a Ding Dong Dukat Is Dead' celebration."

"Ding Dong?" returned the puzzled Changeling.

"Oh, that's a song from a classic Earth holomovie," O'Brien chimed in. "It's what a bunch of little people sing when the bloody Witch who's ruled over them gets a house dropped on her."

"I know that Garak has always hated Dukat, but how can you be so sure that's the only purpose of the party?" Kira asked.

"Because all the dart boards have been overlaid with pictures of our departed Gul, and Garak's made all of Quark's holosuites available to his guests to run any one of dozens of holoprograms that allow you to kill Dukat in any way you please," Bashir announced.

Kira smiled her approval and cast a glance at Odo to share her satisfaction with him, but his face showed no signs of amusement. When he caught sight of her inquiring gaze, he averted his eyes and turned once again to address the others, "I wouldn't imagine that a tailor would have the kind of latinum necessary to compensate Quark for all this."

"Oh, but Quark is giving him a very big discount," Ezri said.

"Harrumph! That hardly sounds like Quark."

"Just think about it though," Bashir interposed. "There's no one of any stature left alive on Cardassia Prime. Eventually the liberators will want to install some kind of provisional government, and who better to lead it than the one Cardassian who's been working as an ally to the Federation?"

"That's right," Ezri rejoined. "Quark says that there'll be tons of profit to be made in the rebuilding of Cardassia, and it's a prudent investment to get on the good side of the man who'll be signing the contracts."

"He's on the mark about the rebuilding," O'Brien put in. "They say there's scarcely a structure left standing, and the Federation is sending supply convoys non-stop just to prevent wholesale starvation."

Keiko, who had thus far remained silent, looked up with a troubled expression. "Miles says there have been ten million Cardassian casualties, just from the siege of Cardassia Prime and its moons."

"Now they only owe us Bajorans five million more," Kira snapped.

"Nerys!" The rebuke came simultaneously from Keiko and Ezri. Then the human woman added, "That's a terrible thing to say."

Kira's tone was unapologetic. "I'm sure some innocent Cardassians have died, and for that I'm sorry, but Central Command learned nothing from their failure on Bajor. They jumped at the chance to conquer their neighbors once more when Dukat and the Dominion offered it to them. Maybe their people need to do some major suffering themselves to teach them never to play the conqueror again."

An awkward silence descended upon the group, lifted fortuitously a moment later as their beaming host approached. "I trust our latecomers have everything they need in the way of food and drink? Although that's not very much where you're concerned, Odo."

The constable gave a grunt of annoyance at the all-too-familiar jest. "I'm all right," Kira responded without much more enthusiasm.

"Splendid. Now, as for the entertainment, I'll unveil the centerpiece of the evening in less than an hour, so if you want to avail yourself of any of the games of skill or holosuites, I'd recommend that you hurry. I can only hope they make up in some small way for all of us having been deprived of the opportunity to finish off Dukat ourselves."

"Garak, don't you think you're going a bit far, making entertainment out of such tragic circumstances?" Odo asked. The Cardassian fixed him with a look of incredulity, which matched the one Kira had also aimed toward her lover. She had been so upset herself, that she was just now noticing that the evening seemed to be affecting Odo quite negatively as well. That wasn't surprising, but she still couldn't understand why he'd be objecting to their making sport of Dukat's demise. She'd never heard him express anything but contempt for the former commander of Terok Nor.

She thought it better not to say anything until they were alone, but such delicacy didn't occur to the Cardassian. "Tragic? My dear Constable, I might expect such comments from these sentimental humans, but not from you. Certainly you haven't been influenced by any of those absurd tales by Dr. Bashir's favorite author? You know, that fellow Shakespeare, who churned out innumerable fripperies he insists on calling tragedies? Rank melodramas they are, if you ask me, and that's when they don't descend into outright farce. Two love-struck teen-agers fail in their obedience to their families and end up dead through an ignorance of the elementary properties of toxins that any Cardassian child of six could have taught them. A quite clever seeker after political advancement gets himself killed by taking literally the obviously metaphorical pronouncements of some crazed old hags. A man we're asked to believe an heroic and able military commander smothers his wife just because she misplaced her handkerchief. Ridiculous! Come to think of it, though, there is a character in one of those so-called tragedies who rather reminds me of Gul Dukat. A vain, arrogant ruler who decides to share power with highly untrustworthy allies, ends up dispossessed of his own kingdom, loses his favorite daughter, goes mad--what was the name, doctor?"

"King Lear," Bashir spat out, tight-lipped. Kira, like everyone else on the station, had noticed that most conversations the doctor had with Garak recently turned into this bitter mutual mockery, but none of them had yet figured out why.

"Ah, yes, King Lear. There was a line in that play that could well serve as Dukat's epitaph. How did it go-- Yet he hath ever but slenderly known himself.'"

"You know, Garak, there's a passage in Lear that might serve *you* well as a motto," Bashir countered: the villain Edmund says it, I grow; I prosper. Now gods stand up for bastards."

The tailor regarded his erstwhile young friend with a forced smile, but his penetrating blue eyes were ice. He put his hand on Bashir's shoulder and leaned closer to him. "I must say, my dear doctor, that I'm growing quite nostalgic for those days when you pretended to be somewhat in awe of me. But enough of that"--here Garak was once more the gracious host-- "I must see to my other guests. I do hope you find the holosuites amusing."

Unwilling to surrender the last word, Bashir called after him, "Just out of curiosity, Garak, which kill-Dukat scenario did you select for yourself?"

The Cardassian turned and regarded him with a look of smug satisfaction. "Why, all of them, of course."

"All of them! Bloody hell," O'Brien burst out. "That would have taken you days."

"A week, actually," Garak purred. "But what's a little expenditure of time to ensure that my guests are properly entertained." He gave them a slight bow and headed off to confer with Quark at the bar.

"So," Kira said, looking around the table after Garak had gone, "what holoprograms did you people choose?"

"Uh, Miles thought we should both go after him in an RAF dogfight during the Battle of Britain, us in our Spitfire, him in a Messerschmidt. But I did treat him after his breakdown, and it just seemed wrong to make a game out of killing one of my former patients."

"And I wouldn't have had much fun without Julian," O'Brien explained. "Besides, Keiko wasn't very keen on the whole idea. We did throw some darts into very delicate portions of Dukat's anatomy, though."

"Surely you had your revenge, Dax. After all, he killed Jadzia." Exasperation was audible in Kira's voice.

The Trill looked uncomfortable. "Actually, all of us hosts took a vote, and Jadzia abstained, figuring she couldn't be very objective. Besides, she already knew that when Worf went to the holosuite, he'd slice him into a hundred pieces with a bat'leth and eat his heart. The rest of us voted 5-3 to pass up the vengeance game."

"And how did Ezri Dax vote?" Odo inquired.

"I voted no. I mean, I certainly believe that he was a terrible person, from everything I've heard, but I've never even met the man. It's kind of hard to get that worked up over someone who's a stranger."

Kira finished the food on her plate and drained her glass of Bajoran spring wine. Damned if she'd be intimidated by all their Federation scruples. She rose to her feet. "Well, he's no stranger to me, and I'm definitely *not* going to pass up the opportunity. Care to join me, Odo?" From the previous conversation, she already had a pretty good idea what his answer would be.

"You know I, uh, prefer to use holosuites for more romantic pursuits, Nerys," he said, confirming her expectations. Although he raised apologetic eyes to her, she didn't feel very forgiving that he would let her remain the odd man out at the table..

"Fine," she responded curtly, looking daggers at him, and headed up the stairs to the holosuites without saying another word to any of them.



Subj: Ever But Slenderly O/K (R) 2/4 Date: 1/28/99 2:06:39 PM MST From: cardieologist@webmail.bellsouth.net

*** The unforgiving Cardassian sun beat down through the thin atmosphere as Kira crouched behind one of the larger outcroppings of ancient lava flow that dotted the Bekeret volcanic plain on Cardassia Tertia. Mopping up with her sleeve the sweat that was dripping from her brow and coursing in little rivulets down her nose ridges, she took another swallow from the canteen. It was the last of the four she had to sustain her on her journey to the spaceport two kilometers distant, where a bribed Ferengi waited with a small ship to get her off the planet. She was proud of herself for getting this far in the hostile alien terrain before Dukat and his men had overtaken her. The sensors on her rifle stock registered six Cardassians. She could actually have begun firing now. The weapon, one that did not exist anywhere in the known galaxy, had an impossibly extended targeting radius. Comes with the revenge fantasy, she thought.

She didn't start firing, however. She would wait until they were in visual range so as to differentiate her targets. She was saving Dukat for last. She wanted to look him in the eye as she killed him.

The first Cardassian soldier came into view about half a kilometer distant. She aligned the rifle sight with his sensor signature and pulled the trigger. He dropped like a stone. The others continued their advance, dodging from volcanic rock to volcanic rock, but she continued to pick them off with ease. Finally, only Dukat remained, now standing ten or so meters from her position. She stepped out from behind the lava flow, rifle aimed. "Drop your weapon, Dukat," she commanded. He laid it down without demurral and began to walk toward her, his arms outstretched, that obscene smirk of his on his face. "Now, now Nerys," he said in his most seductive tones, "you're not going to shoot me. We belong together. We always have."

The rifle's cross-hairs met just above the bridge of his nose. Without a second's hesitation, she fired.

***

After her holosuite exertions Kira hardly felt fresh enough to rejoin the party, but Garak had anticipated this eventuality by providing two portable sonic showers. Since both had occupants at present, she sat toweling herself off on a bench set up opposite them. Just a few minutes later, one of the doors opened, and Captain Benjamin Sisko emerged, still adjusting the collar of his Starfleet dress uniform. Kira got up and greeted him with a smile, gratified that not all the Federation officers were too damned high-minded to admit the pleasure it would give them to take out their Cardassian nemesis personally. "So, Captain, how did you get rid of Dukat?"

The Captain grinned broadly, "Top of the ninth, behind 8 to 5, bases loaded, two outs, I hit a grand slam off him, clear over the right field fence."

"Oh," said Kira, somewhat chastened, "You took your revenge in a baseball game?"

"No better place. Of course, when he retaliated by throwing a beanball at Jake, all nine of us had to beat him to a pulp with our bats." He winked at her. "How did *you* do the deed, Colonel?"

"Rifle shot right between the eyes."

"Must have been satisfying."

"Completely."

"Good." He saluted her. "I'll see you downstairs."

***

She took her time in the shower, letting the cleansing sound waves carry away the dirt, the sweat, and the tension, as she tried to work herself up to facing Odo and the puzzling disapproval he had displayed in the face of her perfectly natural expressions of hatred toward the late Gul Dukat. At last she decided that she could hardly leave her lover alone at their table any longer. She slipped her strapless red and white dress back on, ran her fingers through her hair, and descended to the main floor of the bar. She got stalled on the last step, her access to the floor blocked by a large crowd which had gathered in front of a holo-projector unit; beside it Garak stood addressing the assembled multitude.

"---acquired with great difficulty from the Romulans by one of our own Quark's enterprising relatives, and at a very reasonable price to me, I might add," the Cardassian was saying. "You've all had the chance to enact the death of Gul Dukat according to your own desires. Now, without further ado, the actual event, as it happened, recorded by the surveillance cameras on Calmus, the second moon of Cardassia Prime."

Garak activated the projector, and the interior of a Cardassian lunar command post eerily hovered in the air above the dabo tables. It was being rocked by explosions, and damage control personnel scurried about frantically trying to repair burned out systems, while the Gul in charge calmly directed the moon's defenses to keep firing at this target or that. Completely disregarded amidst all this chaos stood Dukat, dressed as Kira had seen him on Empok Nor, his hands raised in supplication. He was chanting many of the phrases she had heard when he led the devotions of the Pagh-Wraith cult, invocations to Costamojion. As she strained to make out the precise phrasing, she gathered that he was asking the wraiths to vanquish Cardassia's enemies for the sake of him, their Emissary, just as the Prophets had destroyed the Dominion fleet at Sisko's behest.

The tempo of the blasts shaking the facility escalated, but the mounting desperation around him did nothing to shake Dukat from his prayers. At length, a soldier entered the command center and handed the officer a PADD. The Gul studied it and then addressed his staff: "Central Command has determined that we should consolidate all our forces in defense of Cardassia Prime. A transport is waiting between this base and the planet. Activate your Dominion transporters to co-ordinates 8.32.91." Within a few seconds, they had all beamed out, save Dukat, who had never wavered from his insistent entreaties to his adopted gods.

For several minutes the recording played on as Dukat repeated his invocations over and over. The party guests began to get restless, and a number of whispered conversations started up. A few people went up to the bar to get refills of their drinks. Frustrated, Garak called for everyone to pay attention; the important part was just coming up. Soon after the crowd had quieted, Legate Damar himself materialized in the deserted center. He strode up to Dukat and shook him roughly. "Gul Dukat, you have to leave now. The Romulans have already landed a few kilometers from here. Please come with me."

Dukat turned toward him. "No! The Pagh Wraiths spoke to me. They've chosen me as their instrument for regaining the Celestial Temple. They won't let our enemies triumph."

Damar shook his head, an incredulous expression on his face. "Perhaps they do need you to help them retake the wormhole, but their interest lies with it, and Bajor. They have no stake in what happens to Cardassia. You have to listen to me. The Vorta and Jem'Hadar are mustering all their forces in the Alpha Quadrant beyond Cardassia Tertia to prepare a major counterattack against the Federation and its allies. We have to hold Cardassia Prime to give them time to regroup. You are one of our most brilliant tacticians. You must accompany me back to the homeworld before it's too late."

Dukat stared at hard Damar for a long time, then blinked his eyes rapidly and rubbed them with his knuckles, like someone waking from a long and deep sleep. "We have to evacuate the station?" he asked.

"Yes!" Obviously pleased at having brought his comrade back to reality, Damar reached out his hand to tap Dukat's transporter activation device. But his former commander grabbed his wrist and forced it back. "You killed my daughter, you killed Ziyal," he said.

Damar struggled in vain to free his arm as he gazed at Dukat in confusion. "We discussed that long ago. You agreed that it was Captain Sisko who put the phaser into my hand. Listen! You can hear the Romulans outside. We have to transport out NOW."

"No." Dukat increased the strength of his grip, making Damar wince. "You wanted to kill her. It was your idea, no one else's."

Damar tried to back away. "She deserved to die. She was a traitor to Cardassia."

"She was the only decent thing I ever accomplished in my life--and you killed her." Dukat's voice was a mixture of rage and anguish. In one lightning move he relaxed his grip on the other man's wrist , pulled a disruptor from his belt and shot him through the chest. Damar slumped immediately to the ground. A split second later, Dukat fell beside him, drilled from behind by a Romulan centurion who had just broken through the control room door. Soon Romulans were everywhere, working the consoles in attempts to disable the moon's automated defense systems. The centurion kicked the bodies of the two fallen Cardassians savagely, recalibrated his weapon, and vaporized them both.

Garak turned off the projector. Rubbing his hands together, he addressed his guests exultantly, "And there you have it, my friends. The man who has caused us all so much suffering over the years is gone at last, although I suppose we do owe him some small thanks for taking that Dominion puppet Damar with him. We Cardassians believe in executing criminals publicly for the better edification of those they have wronged and of any who might consider imitating their misdeeds. I hope you can appreciate my poor approximation of such an august spectacle."

If Garak were expecting applause, he was to be disappointed. The crowd dispersed quickly, many muttering to themselves and shaking their heads, apparently not in the least edified. Kira wasn't sure what she felt. She had processed the news that Dukat had died several weeks previously, her primary emotion then one of relief. Finally his incessant efforts to convince her that destiny called them to be together were at an end. It was only in the holosuite that her full hatred of the Cardassian had risen to the surface. When she had seen him fall to her rifle shot, that image had seemed far more "real" than the pageant she had just watched unfold.. Nevertheless, she wasn't ashamed to have been a spectator to the Gul's death, as so many of the others seemed to be. A number of them, no longer in a party mood, were in fact lining up to take their leave of Garak.

Kira drifted away toward her table, curious to see Odo's reaction to the recording. Would it increase his previously unheard of inclination to view the Cardassian's demise as "tragic?" She'd covered about half the distance when Ezri, Julian, and the O'Briens intercepted her.

"There you are , Kira," said Ezri. "Sorry to strand you, but we've decided to call it a night."

"Yes," Keiko added, tight-lipped. "Watching people get shot down in cold blood is *not* my idea of entertainment." Behind her, Miles shrugged apologetically as the O'Briens headed straight for the exit without lingering to bid Garak adieu. Judging from the expression on Keiko's face, this was probably a more polite gesture than waiting to make their good-byes.

"Where's Odo, sitting by himself at the table?" Kira asked Dax and Bashir with a slight air of reproach.

"Uh, no," Bashir replied. "He left while you were still in the holosuite. He said that he'd worked clear past his usual regeneration time wrapping up the arrests of the Liseppian smugglers, and he could sense he wouldn't last out the hour. He asked us to tell you that he's gone back to his quarters."

The message stunned Kira. She knew exactly when Odo had last regenerated: this morning at 0330, in her bed after a deliciously prolonged interlude of lovemaking. He wasn't even halfway to his next required regenerative cycle. Renewed anger was the first emotion to hit her. How could he simply sneak away and leave her there, giving a transparent lie as his excuse? But real worry soon shoved it aside. Under normal circumstances he would never do such a thing. She thought back on his behavior all evening--working late, telling her to go to the party without him, insisting that they should leave immediately to spare her feelings. If this summoning up of Terok Nor had momentarily thrown her into emotional turmoil, it was now clear to her that Odo had found the experience even more unnerving.

"Is something wrong, do you think?" Ezri asked.

Kira shook her head no and tried to put on an air of nonchalance. She wasn't in the mood for any joint counseling session the eager young Trill was likely to suggest. "I guess I might as well go regenerate' myself. The party definitely seems to be winding down."

The crowd around Garak had dissipated, and he took several steps toward them as they approached. "Doctor, Counselor, Colonel, don't tell me you're leaving too!" Garak looked sincerely crestfallen over the rapidly emptying room, but Kira never trusted any of the Cardassian's overt displays of emotion.

"Yes, long day coming up tomorrow and all that," Julian muttered.

Garak gave the saving fiction the short shrift it deserved. "So even you found my little theatre of retribution distasteful, my dear doctor?"

Julian smiled sympathetically. "Cardassian entertainments *are* a bit difficult for other species to appreciate."

"I suppose I should have confined my guest list to Cardassians. Unfortunately, any Cardassians likely to appreciate my hospitality are all quite, quite dead," Garak responded pointedly.

Ezri patted the tailor sympathetically on the forearm. He favored her with a noncommittal stare and then walked over to the now-abandoned Dukat target; he picked up a dart with each hand and extended them toward Bashir. "Before you leave, doctor, could you do me a favor? No one has yet pierced Dukat's nostrils. I wouldn't want any of his bodily orifices to escape unscathed. With your genetically enhanced reflexes, it should take no special exertion to perform that particular indignity on the image of the dear departed."

"Really, Garak, just give it up," Bashir snapped.

"I had no idea you were so particular, doctor," Garak replied. "Very well. I'll simply have to do it myself." The Cardassian turned toward the target and, without even stopping to aim, casually tossed the two darts, leaving them quivering in the left and right nostrils of the Gul's photo.

Bashir's eyes widened in amazement. "Garak! How did you do that? I didn't even know that you played darts."

Garak's face showed a smile of pure benevolence. "I don't play darts, Dr. Bashir. But years of plying the needle *do* work wonders for one's eye-hand co-ordination."



Subj: Ever But Slenderly 3/4 Date: 1/28/99 2:21:46 PM MST

From: cardieologist@webmail.bellsouth.net

***

When the turbolift doors opened onto the Habitat Ring, Kira took off at a run for their quarters. Her fingers trembled as they keyed in the lock code. Once inside, she didn't even have to call his name or search all the rooms to know that Odo wasn't there. Since they had become lovers, some combination of her senses could always detect his presence, no matter what form he had assumed. She was breathing hard from running, and now a growing sense of panic contributed to her rising heart rate as well. She tapped her commbadge. "Odo, Kira here. Report please." There was no answer. "Computer. Locate Constable Odo." "Constable Odo is in his quarters," the mechanical voice responded. "I'm in his quarters and he's not here--" Kira screamed at the console. Then she caught her breath sharply. Calm down, Nerys, think straight. Not *their* quarters. He had told Bashir he was going to *his* quarters.

When they had decided to move in together, it seemed only fitting that he join her, since he didn't even need to bring a toothbrush, let alone a closet full of clothes, a prayer mandala, towels and sheets, and so forth. Yet he had insisted on maintaining his own quarters, saying that they still might each require some private space from time to time. She had suspected that he had as well another motive, a quite charming one: the desire to keep up appearances so long as he had not, in the archaic phrase he had read in one of his old Earth novels, "made an honest woman" of her.

She walked this time down the ten meters of corridor that separated the two sets of quarters and keyed in his access code. She smiled to herself, recalling the shy way he had presented it to her on a PADD after escorting her home from a romantic holosuite evening. She had been sorry she couldn't meaningfully return the gesture, but as Security Chief he could override any code on the station already.

As the door slid open, relief flooded over her. Her senses told her he was indeed there, although her eyes discerned neither his humanoid or gelatinous form. Eventually, however, she noticed a new arch atop his shape-shifting sculpture. She reached up and tapped it. "All right, Odo, I think you'd better tell me what's going on here," she said, trying to strike a neutral balance between concern and irritation.

The arch turned amber liquid and then reshaped itself into Odo's usual solid form, complete with the tuxedo he'd worn to the party. He remained perched on the sculpture like a bird on a tree branch. "It's nothing, really, Nerys. I just need some time alone."

She pressed her cheek against the dangling dress shoe, which of course did not feel like leather but rather shared that special "surfaceness" of his. Feeling its unique texture always awoke the first tingles of desire whenever it touched her. "Haven't we gotten past the point when we take our problems away from each other?" she implored him.

He jumped down, adjusting his mass so that he landed noiselessly. He stroked her hair, kissed her lightly on the forehead, took her hand and led her over to the viewport. "The one thing Garak didn't recreate about the way Terok Nor looked during the Occupation was the sight of Bajor below us."

"No, I guess that's not something Quark could advance him on credit," she bantered, wondering where this was all leading.

Odo smiled at her briefly, then disengaged his hand from hers. "Nerys, I imagine you heard that after the Alliance occupied Cardassia Prime, Starfleet was able to retrieve the complete records of the final dispositions' of all Bajorans whom the Cardassians took into custody during the Occupation."

"Yes. Families who have been waiting decades to learn the fates of missing loved ones are finally going to be able to stop wondering and find a little peace."

One of those characteristic little snorts of his escaped at the mention of "peace." He gazed at her earnestly with his brilliant blue eyes, "This afternoon I worked up my courage to go into that database and looked up the names of everyone I ever arrested while I was working for the Cardassians. There weren't any Liseppian smugglers. It took me hours to get through all the records."

"I see." The pain in those eyes told her what was coming.

"During those years on Terok Nor I was always striving to make sure that sentences were fair, manipulating the regulations to assure that this man only got five years in the mines rather than ten or that this woman only had to serve one year in a labor camp rather than three in ore processing. I prided myself on making a difference, on having the punishment fit the crime. But do you know what, Nerys? For most of the Bajorans I arrested, no matter what the posted sentence was, the actual punishment was death, because four out of five of them never survived to be liberated."

She searched for words of solace. "It's hardly news that the labor camps were really death camps. Just think of the hundreds of innocent people that you kept the Cardassians from sending there at all. Everyone in the Resistance marvelled when the arrest rate on Terok Nor dropped nearly in half after you became Security Chief. Hold on to that."

"I tried, after I finished my research, but when we walked into Quark's, looking just as it did then, I felt so completely . . . implicated in all those horrors." He turned away from her, and curled himself into the circular viewport ledge, staring fixedly at the stars as if absolution somehow had concealed itself among the twinkling lights. Kicking off her high-heeled shoes, Kira inserted herself onto the ledge facing him, and tickled his feet with hers. "Come on, don't let the memories paralyze you. We've both had to live with ghosts for a long time now. At least we'll never have to look into the smug face of that bastard Dukat again. His passing should help the living and the dead of the Occupation rest easier."

Odo responded by drawing his knees up to his chest and hugging them to him, thus breaking off contact with the playful ministrations of her toes. "Yes, there's that," he muttered.

All the strange remarks he'd made about the former Prefect at the party suddenly crystallized for her. "This isn't just about Dukat's victims, this is about Dukat himself. If I didn't know better, I'd say that you were *mourning* him."

Odo looked up at her with some surprise at her intuitive leap. "I don't understand it myself, Nerys. When we received word that the Romulans had killed him, my first thought was good riddance,' and relief that the obsession he had with you could no longer threaten you. And then I just put him out of my mind, as I've been doing ever since the Cardassians left the station. Somehow tonight, though, with all those people laughing and playing games to celebrate that Dukat was dead, I realized that I didn't share their elation, that on some deep level I was sorry for him. And I can't quite figure out why. That disturbs me, Nerys. "

"Keiko and Ezri felt the same way; you shouldn't let it bother you. It's not like you had all those unpleasant, up-close and personal encounters with Dukat like Captain Sisko and I did."

"What are you saying, Nerys? I worked for him for four years."

It struck Kira that, although she of course knew that Odo had been Chief of Security during the time that Dukat commanded the station, she had never thought of the Changeling as working *for* the Cardassian or of having anything but a distant, professional relationship with him. "I guess I assumed that he dictated policy to you and the rest of his officers at staff meetings, sent you the occasional memo, and otherwise left you alone . I took it for granted that there was very little real interaction between you. I mean, the Cardassians don't have this fondness for consultation with subordinates that the Federation does."

"Oh, no. You misunderstand. I met with Dukat, one-on-one, every afternoon, and I gave him detailed security briefings once a week. For some reason he was forever confiding in me, telling me all about how frustrated he was trying to make the Bajorans see reason.' I believe I was the only one on Terok Nor whom he told about Tora Naprem and Ziyal. Quite up close and personal' you see."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize-- But you never talked about him as anyone you really *knew,* just made remarks about how stubborn, annoying and unreasonable he'd been as a commanding officer."

Odo shook his head sadly. "Both the Provisional government and Starfleet were suspicious enough of me as it was. I hardly needed to remind anyone that for years I had carried out the direct orders of the Butcher of Bajor.' Soon I had managed to shove the memories of those years out of my own consciousness as well."

"So you were lying when you said that he had always annoyed you?"

"No. He did annoy me. He used intimidation and humiliation to keep me in line, and I resented it bitterly."

"Somehow I can't quite imagine anyone keeping you in line when you didn't want to be kept, Odo," Kira observed with a grin.

Odo smiled in return. "Yes, I did oppose him on a number of occasions. And one thing I've never understood--if all his threats didn't make me back down, then *he* would back down. Always. Once he got so angry with me that I thought he would have me executed. Instead, he gave in to my wishes completely."

"He probably didn't want to have to replace you with a Cardassian who would be plotting to put a knife in his back some day."

Odo nodded. "It's the only explanation I've ever been able to come up with. Nevertheless, it just doesn't seem sufficient."

Kira gave a little sigh of frustration. "Odo, nothing you've told me explains why you should be so upset that Dukat's dead. Quite the contrary, in fact."

He leaned forward and took both her hands in his. "The last time I saw him was just after Ziyal had been killed. The Captain asked me to escort him to the Infirmary. He was quite delusional. He kept talking as if his daughter wasn't dead, as if she were right there beside him. He spoke about the life they would have together on Cardassia, apparently oblivious to my presence. When we reached our destination, however, he tugged at my sleeve to get my attention, even though he was still talking to his imaginary daughter. Ziyal,' he said. I'm afraid these people might try to stop me from going home. They might want to separate us forever. If that happens, you stay close to Odo here. He'll protect you, just like he protected me all those years on Terok Nor--even though he always disapproved of me.'"

Kira looked at him earnestly, "We all feel responsible for not looking after Ziyal. Don't you think I wish I had kept her at my side? I should have known that she'd go looking for her father and put herself in harm's way."

"You don't understand, Nerys.. Ever since he said that, I haven't been able to escape this nagging feeling that I let *Dukat* down."

"I can't imagine why. It's not as if you owed him your loyalty or anything like that."

"But is *is* like that, precisely," Odo responded with a flash of recognition. "As we were there at that party I felt positively *disloyal* for sitting around with people who were celebrating his death ."

"What could Dukat possibly have done to deserve your loyalty?"

Odo struggled for words, "I think it's because he gave me myself."

"Meaning?" Kira regretted the sharp tone the minute she had spoken. She had promised herself that she would be all understanding and sympathy, since Odo was so obviously shaken. But, really, he was just talking so much nonsense, that she was losing her patience.

Odo sighed, as if he were just as impatient with himself as she was. "Before I started to work for Gul Dukat, there wasn't anyone who thought of me as a person. I was an interesting phenomenon, an inorganic substance that somehow walked and talked and mimicked other sentient beings. At the most, humanoids regarded me as a kind of clever performing animal. The reason the Bajorans trusted me to arbitrate their disputes objectively was that they couldn't imagine that any feelings or biases could influence a large puddle. Then Dukat looked straight at me and said, Odo, you'd make a good investigator. A job like that would give some purpose to your life.' And he was absolutely right. I found myself living for the work he gave me."

"When he hired you, I'm sure he was looking out for his own best interests, not yours," she protested.

"No doubt. Just as the Great Link was looking out for itself when it split me off and cast me adrift in an uncomprehending, hostile universe. That doesn't eliminate the loyalty to the Founders that tugs at me all the same."

"I have to say," Kira remarked wryly, "that you've had very bad luck with your formative influences. If only the Resistance had gotten to you first; we'd have given you plenty of purpose working for us."

"That would never have happened. I'm temperamentally unsuited to being a terrorist. Even you spotted me as a Constable' the instant we met." His manner softened, "You also knew, though, that I was a *person* capable of taking sides, no matter how much I professed the impossibility." He leaned forward and kissed her gently on the lips, "My one fortunate formative influence."

She returned the kiss with more urgency, feeling that she had at last drawn him out of his funk. "Time for bed, don't you think?" But he stepped back immediately.

"I'm sorry, Nerys. I still need some privacy, to think everything over."

"First you abandon me in the middle of a party, then you throw me out of your quarters?" she replied teasingly. "Aren't you the one who's always saying that some mysteries are best left unsolved?"

Odo turned his gaze aside. "I wish I could explain things to you better, but I just can't be . . intimate . . right now."

The irritation she had diligently repressed rushed to the surface, and, for the second time that evening, Kira told Odo, "Fine!" and strode angrily away from him.

Subj: Ever But Slenderly O/K (R) 4/4 Date: 1/28/99 2:11:23 PM MST From: cardieologist@webmail.bellsouth.net

***



Kira tried to sleep but could muster only intermittent fits of semi-wakefulness, in which the feverish face of the dying Pol morphed into that of holo-Dukat as the rifle shot exploded in his face and then morphed again into the inscrutable, menacing image of the Cardie beast. At 0530 she sat bolt upright, sprang from her bed, and retraced the route to Odo's quarters still clad in her night clothes. She hoped that he would be regenerating by now, hoped that she could just curl up around that pool of liquid amber on the floor, fall to sleep, and awake to find this sudden chasm between them bridged.

When she arrived at his door, however, she found a password-protected PADD addressed to her and affixed below the entry chime. She gave a little laugh, torn between being comforted that he knew she wouldn't stay away and insulted that he believed she couldn't stay away. She detached the PADD from the wall and accessed the message: "Nerys, before I can come to terms with everything we've been discussing, there's some unfinished business I have to take care of on Bajor. But afterwards let's spend some time together. I'll reserve a room at the Lake Barukha Lodge. Meet me there this evening. Odo."

It took her only ten minutes to get back to her quarters, put on her uniform, and arrive in Ops to the astonishment of the night crew. "Is something wrong, Colonel?" asked Starfleet lieutenant Bok. Looking into the young Bolian's baffled blue face, Kira suddenly felt unutterably foolish. Still, there was nothing for it but to carry through with what she'd started. "No, nothing wrong. I just wanted to know-- when did Constable Odo leave the station?"

She saw Bajoran militia sergeants Kelar and Palt exchange amused glances, but Bok kept an admirably straight face. "He took the Rio Grande out at 0508, Colonel."

"The Danube is available, though, in case you want to follow him," Palt offered with a smirk. Kira shot her a withering glance. Someone's performance evaluations were going to have a *thorough* review from the first officer when she got back. "Tell Captain Sisko I'm going to Bajor for a few days leave. I'll stay in contact," she muttered on her way out the door.

*** Her destination was about half a kilometer from where she'd docked the runabout. Odo had simply beamed down, leaving the Rio Grande in orbit, but Kira didn't want to materialize suddenly in front of him. Besides, the walk gave her time to gather her thoughts. She wasn't actually surprised at where the sensors said he'd transported to, but she still wasn't quite certain why he'd come. As she climbed to the top of a small hillock on the edge of the meadow she paused and took in the scene. Odo was standing at the foot of one of the three graves, his arms bent at right angles at the elbow with palms facing outward. His head was bowed, and he was speaking in Kardasi phrases. Before approaching him, Kira waited until he grew silent, stepped back, and resumed his frequent cross-armed posture.

"Thank you for not interrupting," he said without turning around.

"You were expecting me?"

He faced her then and smiled, "Despite how well the attack on Cardassia is going, I'd be foolish to go travelling in wartime without keeping full sensor-scans activated. I knew you were following from the minute you got within range."

She walked over to his side and contemplated Ziyal's grave, nestled there between Tekeny Ghemor's and Kira Taban's. The flowers she had placed there a week ago had lost their bloom, but a fresher spray lay beside them. "I didn't know you were familiar with Cardassian funeral rituals," she said.

"When I was on Terok Nor, security troopers under my command occasionally fell in the line of duty. I felt it only proper to attend their memorial services."

"I buried Ziyal nearly two years ago. You were there."

Odo stared pensively over her head, at the tall grasses on the hillock waving in a sudden gust of wind. "Dukat was never really in his right mind after she died. He never mourned her properly, never came here to perform for her that ritual all Cardassian fathers are obligated to perform for a dead child, something he would never have failed to do had circumstances been otherwise. I thought it was the least I could do, to speak the invocations for him, now that he'll never come himself."

"Part of your repayment of that non-existent debt you owe him?" Kira replied skeptically.

"Yes, part of the debt I owe him." Odo was silent for a moment, contemplating the small stone that bore the simple words Tora Ziyal,' and an engraving of a single flower, taken from one of the young woman's drawings. Then he continued. "Do you remember that quotation from the human play about not knowing oneself, the line Garak said should be Dukat's epitaph?"

"Yes. Quite perceptive of Garak I thought."

"Perhaps. Still, it doesn't get to the root of Dukat's existence. If I were engraving his tombstone, I'd write Everything he loved, he destroyed.'"

Kira reflected a moment, then had to agree. "Yes. Naprem. Ziyal. And finally Cardassia itself.'

Odo nodded, still regarding the grave somberly. "Do you suppose Dukat might have wanted to be buried here on Bajor himself, when all was said and done? Not that the Romulans would have worried about his wishes. Does anyone know what was done with the remains?"

"Nothing to be done. If you'd stayed around for Garak's little show, you'd have seen that the Romulans simply vaporized the body."

Odo let out a soft grunt and shook his head. "Dukat was forever complaining because Central Command never recognized the long years of effort he'd put into governing Bajor by dedicating one of their countless war memorials to him. And, in the end, there won't be even a modest grave marker."

"A good lesson in humility for him, even if it does come after the fact," Kira countered, wondering what she was going to have to do to shake Odo out of this unwarranted, sudden sentimentality about the late Butcher of Bajor.

At last her lover did laugh, his blue eyes sparkling. "I doubt seriously if it would ever be possible to teach Dukat *that* lesson, Nerys," he said.

Kira relaxed, then, allowing her intense concentration on Odo's expressions and movements to lapse and her eyes to return to Ziyal's grave, thinking that perhaps she too should offer a prayer. For the first time she gave more than a passing glance to the flowers Odo had brought. "Bajoran lilacs? I never saw Ziyal painting any of these. They were my mother's favorite flower, though."

"Her mother's also." Something in Odo's voice made Kira resume her careful scrutiny of his features.

"Did Dukat tell you that, or did you actually meet Tora Naprem?"

"Neither." Everything about him had tightened in some way, from his clenched fists to the pressing together of his lipless mouth. He was regarding her as fiercely as she was studying him, as if trying to convey some message he was unable or unwilling to put into words. And in a flash she understood him.

"Oh no. That's impossible. My mother died before Ziyal was born."

"Two days before, to be precise. In the same Cardassian hospital where a Bajoran woman named Tora Naprem gave birth to Gul Dukat's daughter. It was a difficult and prolonged delivery. Naprem had been admitted at virtually the instant that Kira Meru's death was recorded. The admittance notation is the first mention of Tora Naprem anywhere in the whole Occupation database. That was the second rude shock I received while examining the confiscated Cardassian records yesterday."

Kira felt the ground begin to spin beneath her. Odo reached out to steady her, his arms around her waist, the back of her head resting against his chest. "Oh, Prophets, Odo," she gasped out. "You know, after my mother . . . left . . .growing up with my father and two brothers, I wanted a sister so badly. It was silly, when we didn't even have enough food or warm clothing or medicine, to be so set on getting a sister, but I prayed for one every night, hoping that when I woke up one of the boys would have miraculously transformed himself into a girl. After Pol died, I was sure that the Prophets were punishing me for wishing him replaced by a sister." Tears were now coursing down her cheeks. "How could I know that they would answer my prayers like this, and yet give me no sign until it was too late?"

She sank to her knees on Ziyal's grave, with Odo neither holding her back nor letting her go. He simply molded his body to hers, cushioning her through the wracking sobs that soon came, then rocking back and forth with her as they subsided. When she finally grew still, he helped her gently to her feet. "Easy there. Come with me. We'll go to the lake now, where we can both recover our bearings."

Kira turned her face toward his, a face now drained of all emotion, though roughened by red blotches and tearstains. She reached up and absently stroked his cheek. "No,"she whispered. "I just want to go home."

***

They had both beamed up to the Rio Grande and taken the Danube in tow. As Odo piloted the runabout out of planetary orbit and entered in the course back to the station, Kira went to the rest facilities at the back of the craft and poured cold water over her face. Now she sat on the narrow bench, still dripping into the towel that dangled from her hands. Dazed from Odo's revelation she surely was, but what she found even more overwhelming was her sense of death and loss all around her. Her mother. Her father. Her brothers. Dukat and Ziyal. 15 million Bajorans. 10 million Cardassians. Millions more Starfleet, Klingon, Romulan, and Jem'Hadar troops, and counting. The Great Link slowly dying too.

Shaking herself out of her reverie, she dried her hair and face and then reached for the uniform jacket she had removed in order to wash up. No sooner had her hand touched the garment than she released it. Instead she pulled her blouse up over her head, kicked off her boots and proceeded to strip entirely . . .

Odo looked up from the console upon hearing her footsteps, then did a quite humanoid style double-take, his features animated both by amazement at her standing there totally naked and by the somewhat goofy delight he always displayed when he regarded her without her clothes on. She walked toward him slowly and deliberately, "Odo, I've got to know that I'm still alive. I feel so empty."

He rose and ran to her, morphing into nakedness himself as he went. "I'll fill you, Nerys," he answered, gathering her to him.

***

Often their lovemaking was languorous and tender; at other times lustful and passionate. This coupling resembled nothing they had experienced before. It was driven by pure need. Kira longed for climax the way she and her brothers had hungered for the bread and jam in the camp, the way she had thirsted in the holographic volcanic plain. With desperate exertions their two bodies twined and parted and rejoined in still newer configurations, each orifice seeking in turn the partner's satiating touch. When she finally came, it was not with her usual cry of ecstatic joy, but with a mere groan of relief. She felt as it she had just crossed the finish line of a particularly grueling foot race, and no sooner had her body found its release than it collapsed atop her lover in an insensible heap.

*** She awoke with a start, finding herself on the runabout's floor, leaning against Odo's chest, their legs intertwined. His hands were resting lightly atop her bare breasts, the fingers meeting in the cleft between them. A blanket, which was also Odo, covered her from chin to toes. As she stirred, he planted a soft kiss on one of her braids. "Feeling better?"

"Mmm, yes," she murmured sleepily. "Sorry to just nod off like that. No criticism of your welcome attentions intended. I hadn't slept in a day and a half. I was totally exhausted."

"I'm not surprised. I've never known our lovemaking to resemble a springball match before."

"No, I guess not. I've never been so desperate to have you ."

He began to stroke her breasts softly, letting his fingertips just brush the nipples. "Let's take it a bit slower this time," he breathed softly.

She reached up to pull his face close to hers, and had just emitted her first little sigh of pleasure, when the comm console crackled to life. "Runabout Rio Grande, this is Deep Space Nine docking control. Come in please."

"Damnation!" Kira cursed, springing to her feet. The blanket receded into Odo while he spiralled upwards also, solidifying fully clothed and blocking Kira's path to the pilot's chair.

"I don't think it would be particularly advisable for you to answer the hail, Nerys," the Changeling said with a grin. "It's not safe to distract the docking engineers."

She glanced down at her naked torso, flushed with arousal. She giggled and flushed even more deeply. "Uh, right. You take it, and I'll get dressed."

***

Sliding into the passenger chair beside Odo, the now-uniformed Kira queried, "What's up?"

"All the docking bays are currently occupied. They want us to orbit the station at 1000 kilometers until they can clear one for us."

"Ah, well. No more fun until we get back to our quarters, I suppose?"

He shrugged philosophically. "Anticipation just makes the satisfaction sweeter."

She took his hand, and they both fell silent, observing the center of the viewscreen, where the station slowly revolved in the starfield. After they had completed their first orbit, passing by all the vessels, large and small, warships, transports, and freighters, that had attached themselves to the gently curving pylons, Kira was struck by a quaint conceit. Deep Space Nine resembled some fantastic mother animal nursing a highly diverse brood at its many teats. As her mind played with that image another insight somehow sprang from it.

"Not Terok Nor," she said, finishing the thought out loud.

"Terok Nor wasn't what?" Odo asked, confused.

"You said that Dukat destroyed everything he ever loved. But he didn't destroy Terok Nor. I think that's because he put you there to protect it."

Odo nodded an eager agreement, as if her words were the key to some puzzle. "Yes, you're right Nerys. Just as I was there to protect you, the only *person* he loved that he didn't destroy."

"Hold on a minute, Odo!" she bridled. "Whatever it was he felt for me, it wasn't love--obsession, lust, the desire to control, some sick need for approval, but not love."

Odo shook his head, "I'm afraid that, for him, all those things were always part and parcel of love. For the sake of your mother and your sister, whom he loved as deeply as he was capable of doing, I believe he at the very least didn't want you to come to harm, Nerys. Especially not at his hands." He paused, considering some new idea "I wonder, at the time he put me in charge of the Vaatrick investigation, if he realized that you were Naprem's' daughter?"

"It's possible. Very little information eluded Cardassian record-keeping."

"Yes, it makes sense. He knew you were the prime suspect--" Odo paused, suddenly running up against the awkwardness of discussing this matter, one which neither of them had ever mentioned again after Odo had learned the truth.

"For good reason," Kira quipped. It was her way of giving him permission to proceed with his musings.

"Um, yes," Odo stammered. "And he knew that any Cardassian security officer he put on the case would arrest you first thing and turn you over to him for execution. He would have had you executed, too, without hesitation, if that had happened, but he was looking for any chance to escape from that painful eventuality. So he turned to me, the one person he thought might possibly not be content with the obvious. Later on, I told him I couldn't solve the case, and he tempted me with turning you over to him without proof of your guilt, in order to spare ten innocent Bajorans. It was when I refused to do so that he offered me the post of Security Chief.

"Nerys, I think that's the answer," he continued with growing conviction, "that's why the Prefect put me in charge of security on Terok Nor, why he did everything he could to keep me in that job. Do you remember how you told me, after you and Dukat rescued the Ravinok survivors, that you believed he let you know of his intention to kill Ziyal because he wanted you to stop him."

"Yes, and if I hadn't been there, I'm not sure that he wouldn't have fired that rifle."

"That was always his problem. Some part of him wanted to behave decently, but it was never a very strong part, certainly not strong enough to resist his ambition, his vanity or the demands of the Cardassian state. He'd had to turn against his own father when the man committed an act of sabotage to protest Cardassia's Occupation of Bajor. That betrayal haunted him for years, but I think he would have done it all over again if the situation presented itself once more. His better impulses needed allies to keep them from defeat. They needed you when he found Ziyal; they needed me on Terok Nor."

"Too bad you didn't follow him to Cardassia," Kira said bitterly. "Perhaps we'd have been spared the Dominion War."

Odo shook his head. "I doubt anyone could have been a powerful enough influence to deflect the arrogance that made him suppose he could use the Founders to his own ends. Besides, I could never have followed him. I'd become too devoted to carrying out the first two missions he ever gave me, protecting this station and protecting you."

Odo gave one of those typical laugh-snorts of his. "Ironic, isn't it Nerys? It was the last thing Dukat would ever have intended, but, in a way, you and I together on Deep Space Nine--it's partly his doing. Not an unsuitable monument after all."

Kira started to protest the total obscenity of crediting Dukat in any way for their happiness. The Cardassian had contaminated enough of her life already. Yet when she looked into her lover's face, she could see that expression of supreme satisfaction that he always took on upon solving a difficult case. If he had this conviction that the two of them safe and joyful and a couple stood as some kind of monument to Dukat, and if that conviction could chase away the demons of Odo's years on Terok Nor, she wasn't going to argue with him.

Rising, she walked behind him and propped her elbows up on his shoulders, her gaze following his. Both contemplated the distant station, their only true home and, strangely, Dukat's unwitting gift. Unable to stifle at least a partial dissent, Kira whispered into Odo's ear, "All I can say is that it's a damned sight better monument than he deserves."

--end--


Again, since this is not my usual fanfic territory, I'm particularly eager to hear reactions! Please send any feedback/commentaries to cardie-ologist



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