Here's the next part. Hope people enjoy it :)
No major warnings on this part. It's a bit short as I was originally going to combine it with the next part but decided it was better seperate.
Thanks to Klytia for the review!
Minor edit January 2016
The computer blipped to announce an incoming subspace transmission. Julian smiled when he saw who calling and quickly accepted. "Hello Garak," he said. "What can I do for you?"
The Cardassian faked a hurt look. "Can I not call a friend simply for the sake of it?" he asked.
"No," the doctor replied but he was still smiling. "You always have an agenda, usually on top of another agenda, layers of them in fact."
Garak grinned widely. "You know me too well doctor." His face turned serious. "As you know, Cardassia was devastated by the Dominion War," he said. "There are some areas still in ruins. Just recently reconstruction began on a small island in the Southern Hemisphere. The workers have discovered something quite unexpected there. I wonder if you would like to visit in order to discuss things further?"
Julian smoothed his clothes, rumpled from travel, as he was brought from the spaceport to see Garak. His guide was a young Cardassian woman. As she led him through the streets he saw signs everywhere of the damage wrought by the war. This was the capital city; it had to be worse elsewhere. His thoughts were interrupted when he caught sight of the former spy and tailor, now leader of Cardassia; Elim Garak. He smiled broadly upon seeing the Cardassian. The expression was returned as Garak noticed Julian and quickly moved to meet him.
Bashir did not expect the sudden firm embrace. "How have you been my dear doctor?" Garak asked as he stepped back.
"It took me three days to get here," Julian replied, voice more casual than he felt. "I hope your 'interesting discovery' is worth it."
Garak motioned for him to go inside, leading him to an empty room. "These holo-images were taken by the reconstruction crew I mentioned," he said as he took a small display unit from his pocket and activated it. The images were poor quality and clearly taken from a considerable distance. Each showed either one or two ghostly figures in a landscape of rubble. Often they seemed startled, in the process of dashing into cover.
"Are those Vorta?" Julian asked, squinting as though he could somehow force the grainy images to come into focus.
"Yes, I believe so. I did some research before I asked you here. There was a military base on that island. In the last days of the war three Vorta were captured and held there only to later escape. Their names were recorded; Weyoun, Keevan and Eris."
"So they found her…" Julian said. He felt stunned and rather numb. "I was sure they were all long dead, everyone was."
"It seems at least two are still alive, perhaps all three."
"Why haven't the reconstruction crew tried to talk with them?"
"Oh they have. The slightest sound and they run, disappear through gaps in the rubble too small for a Cardassian to follow. The workers haven't been able to get anywhere near them."
"Why… why are they running?" Julian asked, perplexed. "Surely they must know that they need help." Even with the poor quality of the images Bashir had seen it was obvious that the Vorta were disturbingly thin.
"My dear doctor…" Garak paused, trying to find a way to explain this while sparing the human the grisly details. "The military base was the only structure on the island to survive. The guards working in that base would have lost family and friends, murdered by the Dominion. Vorta, if you will recall are the representatives of the Dominion. They were held long after the war had ended. I for one cannot claim surprise that they are afraid of Cardassians."
Julian paled when he realized what the other man was suggesting. "Do you know what happened to them?" he asked.
"No." A lie. "But my people have an aptitude for cruelty." The truth, unfortunately.
Julian decided it would be best to search at night, when hopefully the Vorta would be sleeping and so less likely to run. Residual ionization meant he couldn't get a clear enough life-signs reading to simply beam them out. He wasn't sure it would be a good idea even if it were possible. It was however easy enough, with the aid of a tricorder, to pinpoint their location. Actually getting there though was far from easy. Moving through the rubble was like trying to negotiate a never ending obstacle course, the satchel slung over his shoulders slapping against his thigh. He was getting closer though, despite how long it was taking. The beam of his flashlight briefly lit the bleached bones of a skeleton as he climbed past it and down into a drainage pipe. The going down here was a bit easier he thought as he made his way through more tunnels and along narrow passageways in the rubble. It occurred to him that most people would be hopelessly lost by now and he was glad for once of his genetically enhanced brain. He squeezed through a half-collapsed doorway and suddenly, there they were. Somehow he hadn't really expected to find them.
The Vorta were in what had once been a ground floor room, now buried beneath rubble and partially collapsed. A few mismatched candles cast a dim light. By the far wall scraps of foam and fabric had been piled up to make a sort of bed. Beneath the ragged blankets Bashir could see two sleeping forms. A third was sitting bolt upright, pointing a disrupter at him.
"Weyoun?" He was barely recognisable, frighteningly thin, his face marked by livid scars and half hidden beneath matted hair and grime.
The Vorta flinched at the sound of his name as though it were a blaring alarm. The others were awake now.
"Weyoun, it's Julian Bashir. You know me, from DS9 remember? I'm not going to hurt you. Can you put down the gun?"
The weapon was held together with tape and the clone's hands were shaking but at this range it would be difficult to miss. Wide purple eyes stared up at him as Weyoun struggled to remember his life before coming to Cardassia.
Disjointed scenes and sensations flooded the Vorta's mind. He gasped and gripped the disrupter tighter. Remembered pain and fear threatened to consume him but he forced himself to keep trying. The injections in the Founder's lab had done something, put up blocks in his mind. It hurt to push through them. He remembered Dukat, slamming him down face first into a table. He remembered a child, crying in a white room. He remembered staring out a viewport for hours on end, drowning in loneliness, pain and confusion. He remembered Damar pushing his head down onto the hot flesh that stretched his mouth wide, choking and suffocating him. He started to cry. He remembered the dead husk of a murdered planet, stolen children floating in stasis tubes, the Founders smiling as they lied, Dukat happily breaking his fingers one by one, only to heal them and do it all over again.
"Weyoun, it's okay. You're safe." Bashir was crouching in front of him, didn't seem to care that his face was now level with the disrupter. That was when the Vorta remembered him; saving him when he'd tried to end his own life, kind though he'd had no reason to be. Slowly, Weyoun set the disrupter down.
The threat of being shot now gone, Julian was able to focus his attention on the other occupants of the room. Keevan was clearly terrified, backed up against the wall, hugging his knees tight to his chest. Eris watched him with suspicious violet eyes. There were wires going into her skull. He looked more closely. That was when he noticed the tiny form clasped in her arms.
"Is that…?" he started but then stopped, unsure what he meant to say. Now it was clear why the holo-images had only ever shown at most two of the Vorta. They couldn't have left an infant unattended.
The baby wriggled in Eris' grip, twisting around to see what was going on. Julian tried not to stare. Its ears were Vorta and its skin pale but the spoon shaped marking on its forehead and the barely-there neck ridges marked the child as half Cardassian.
"Why are you here?" the female Vorta asked after what seemed an eternity.
"I… I came to help you, to take you back to Deep Space Nine."
Eris looked across to Weyoun.
"I trust him," said the clone before abruptly turning away to crawl across the bed to Keevan. He wrapped his arms around the cowering man who grasped him tightly in return. Despite Weyoun's reassurances however he would not look up at Julian.
Bashir was uncomfortable. Eris was still staring at him suspiciously. He wasn't qualified to deal with people hurt like this. Garak had called him here though. He hadn't done that just because they were friends; he wasn't that sentimental. He'd called Julian because he thought he was the person most suited to the task at hand. He could do this. "I have signal enhancers in my bag," he said. "I can beam us straight to my shuttle. Alright?"
Eris glanced again at Weyoun, seemed to be considering things, deciding whether or not to trust Bashir. "Okay," she agreed after a moment.
Julian set up the boosters. "Is there anything you want to bring?" he asked when he was done. A few items were gathered and Bashir dutifully packed them in his satchel. They fitted easily. Most of them looked like rubbish. He kept that thought to himself and instead simply asked if that was everything. Eris nodded. Julian activated the remote transport.
