Title: Precious Cargo
By: Wagtail
Characters: Garak, E. & Bashir, J.
Word count: 710 (Complete)
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and am making no money from this story.
Summary: Garak gets Bashir to safety in advance of a Cardassian attack on the station.
This is my first story. Comments and constructive criticism are welcome. :)
_
"You'll be paid on delivery and not before."
Garak was adamant about that. He'd seen the Tellarite freighter captain's greedy little eyes light up as he regarded his prospective cargo. A beauty like Julian Bashir was a prize indeed, and Garak was quite sure the young human would never reach his proper destination if he paid the shipping fee in advance as the Tellarite was now insisting he do. More likely Julian would end up in an Orion slave market.
"You pay now or I no take."
Garak sighed. There wasn't time to argue. The Cardassian Fleet would be here soon and he had to make sure Bashir was well away by then. He typed something onto a pad and handed it to the Tellarite, watching cynically as the piggy alien nearly salivated over the now much larger figure.
"To be paid to you by my agent on Jeska III on the the safe delivery of your charge. Agreed?"
The Tellarite rocked back and forth, snorting. Did he dare hold out for an even larger payment? Something in the Cardassian's cold blue eyes made him think better of it. He stuffed the pad into his pocket.
"Agreed."
He gestured to the two Tellarite crewmen who had accompanied him. They pushed the stasis unit forward on its hover-pad, then moved towards the unconscious figure lying on the deck.
"No." Garak lifted an imperious hand to stop them. He knelt by Bashir and gathered the slender human into his arms, rising to his feet with little effort. He stood still for a moment, gazing down at that delicate dreaming face. The drug he had placed in his Tarkalean tea had worked just as it ought, and in the midst of defending the supposed merits of some atrocious Terran novel, Julian had abruptly slumped over against him, the cup slipping from his grasp to tumble unheeded off the edge of the sofa. It hadn't been the easiest of tasks getting him from his quarters to the cargo hold undetected, but there were passageways snaking through this station that no non-Cardassian knew about.
Garak gently laid Bashir in the open stasis unit. He straightened the long legs into a comfortable position and folded the good Doctor's hands across his belly. "There," he said softly. Just one more thing. He reached into the strapped bag slung over his shoulder and pulled out a battered stuffed animal. Kukalaka: Julian's beloved childhood toy. Garak placed the furry brown object by the human's side, giving it a small pat as he did so. Take care of him for me. He smirked at his own sentimental foolishness. The teddy bear would be a comfort to the boy when he woke up on the safely neutral world of Jeska III to the distressing news that not only had Deep Space Nine been lost to the Federation, but his Starfleet and Bajoran colleagues were either prisoners-of-war or dead.
A memory flashed across Garak's mind: compassionate hazel eyes looking down at him, elegant golden fingers taking his uplifted gray hand in a warm clasp, gently spoken words, "I forgive you..." He experienced a mild feeling of regret. Julian wouldn't forgive him this time.
Garak stepped back and nodded to the Tellarites. He watched as they adjusted the settings on the stasis unit and closed the lid firmly in place, then entered the airlock, pushing the laden hover-pad ahead of them.
"Oh, Captain..."
The Tellarite in question looked back over his shoulder.
"SAFE DELIVERY. Or I WILL find you." Garak smiled. It wasn't a nice smile.
Agitated snorts and the airlock door rolled shut.
Garak's smile changed to one of grim amusement, then faded. He walked over to a window and pressed his forehead against the cold glass. The Tellarite freighter with Bashir aboard moved slowly out from the station. He watched it pick up speed until it was just a bright spot in the distance.
"Farewell, my dear," he said quietly.
There were still a few preparations to be made before the Cardassian Fleet arrived. Now that this little chore was out of the way, he really should go do them. Garak took a deep breath and turned away from the window and the weakness he couldn't afford.