Chapter 10
Garak had been busy with a customer when the message had come in, and his *friend* was most patient. He was in civilian dress this time, very non-descrip in nature. Garak thought it fit the man better than the uniform he'd worn before.
"I'm sorry, but I had a customer," said Garak.
"I am sure they went away quite happy," said the man. "You do have a wonderful sense of style."
Garak thought he sounded a bit rushed. He was trying to get the small talk our of the way quickly. "I do appreciate the compliment. But I do have things to do."
He looked a little relieved. "Well, mostly I'd like to place an order. It's not for me, but a friend has a birthday coming up and I thought he'd like a really nice outfit. His daughter is getting married soon and he lacks any sense of style."
Garak knew something important was happening. He stalled a little, making it sound more natural. "Certainly, but I have a wide selection of colors and fabrics. What would he like?"
"Ah, I'll leave all of that to you. He wouldn't know. Blue, perhaps, but aside from that .. "
"How soon is this needed?" ask Garak.
"If you could rush it ... " He looked apologetic. "I should have thought of it sooner. But I'll be able to drop by in a few days."
"I think I can manage. I look forward to seeing you." Garak was as gracious as ever. But as soon as the screen went blank a trace of the concern he had showed in his eyes. The measurements had been received and he would have it ready. But every time he used the fabric again, he'd remember this particular order. It was a challenging game he was playing, but he was
all too aware of the chances of losing.
o0o
Bashir had heard of Sisko's sudden departure that morning, and had said nothing. But he noticed the edge in Kira's voice at the staff meeting that day, and the careful way she'd worded everything. Sloan would be interested, he noted in passing. He would have to include it in his log, for it was too public to ignore.
There would be other things as well, as soon as Sisko returned. Time was running out. If he was to ever defy Sloan it had to be before he'd lost anything worth preserving.
Sisko wouldn't be back that night. He'd have a last night of peace. He knew where he wanted to spend it.
Quark was preoccupied when he entered the bar, looking up from a padd. "Problems?" he asked the Ferengi.
"Missing shipments," signed the bar owner. "The third this month. What can I do for you?"
Bashir dropped a stack of latinum on the bar. "Vic's, for myself tonight."
"Sure," said Quark.
He remembered how hard it had been the first time, wishing he wasn't reminded that everything got easier once you got used to the idea.
o0o
Quark did not arrive until late afternoon, but Garak hid his annoyance. He was holding the damaged shirt, and handed it to the Cardassian. There was something rolled inside it. Garak took it from him, casually setting it aside.
"I had another shipment get lost," said Quark.
"Have there been many?" asked Garak.
"Too many. How am I supposed to run a bar when my shipments disappear half the time."
Quark sounded absolutely normal. Garak was certain his annoyance was genuine. "I'll have the shirt back tomorrow," said Garak. "I haven't lost any shipments myself."
"My cargo's are lot more valuable to them," said Quark, looking around. "Bashir didn't sound very sorry either."
"Ah," said Garak thoughtfully.
"He booked Vic for himself. He paid better than usual."
Garak eyed the Ferengi. "You appear to be doing well."
"He isn't." Quark was looking at a shirt. "I like this. Could you?"
Garak smiled graciously, taking the shirt. "Certainly," he said.
Quark followed him into a dressing room. Once the door was shut he got very serious. "What about the program?"
Garak eyed him grimly. "I can't tell you. If I did they might kill you. Then your brother would have to run the bar."
Quark looked at him for a moment. "I ran across something the other day. It's yours if you want it. But I want to know about the program."
Quark had not survived so long without a good sense of survival. "I don't think it's a good idea. But it might be worth it."
"Biomemetic gel," said Quark.
Garak sounded calm. "What would I do with it?"
"I don't know. But somebody had a use for it. 85 liters of it, to be exact." The Ferengi watched him calmly.
Garak eyed him. "It wasn't a standard program. I don't know how much of it went on in my head but I never want to see another one."
He couldn't keep the emotion out of his voice. Quark eyed him. "You're right. I don't think I want to know." He handed Garak a padd. "But sometimes they make a few mistakes," he added.
Garak took the padd. He still had the suit to make happy. He was beginning to wish he'd never heard of them. He'd picked up the shirt and unwrapped the object inside. "And this?"
Quark studied his shirt, "It will route any communications through a filter. If anybody tries to follow it erases the pathway." Quark pointed at the padd. "I use one all the time"
Looking at the padd, Garak said softly, "I'll take that as a recommendation."
o0o
He had spent what might be his last evening as himself with Vic and his music. At first, Vic had asked no questions. He listened to the swirl of conversation from the make-believe audience, wishing his own life was like theirs. Once, it had been an amusing game. Now it was all too real. In the end, unable to take the noise, he'd banished the images.
Vic came to his table and asked quietly, "Trouble?"
He looked at the singer, lost and numb inside. "They take you in little pieces, you know. Nibble away at you. First they ... stole the most." He thought of the moment the device pierced the man's skin, and shuddered. "But after that it's so gradual you don't even notice. You even discover you can sleep at night." He thought of how he'd returned the hypo to its proper place. He didn't need its help anymore.
"Have you decided?" asked Vic.
"Maybe it's past that," he said. "There isn't much of anything to care about anymore."
"How do you know," asked Vic quietly.
"Medicine is the last thing I have and I even owe that to them. But I needed it so badly I let them maneuver the lies until they were true." He stared grimly at his drink. "Once Garak told me it was all true, but especially the lies. I understand it now."
Vic sighed. "Yes, Garak."
Bashir looked at him oddly, but decided not to ask. "Now they are going to take my integrity as a doctor. There won't be anything else left."
Vic nodded, and shrugged. "No, you have to give it to them. Always remember that."
He moved toward the stage, and sat at the darkened edge. The band played quietly behind him. He started to sing. " Moons and junes and ferris wheels, the dizzy dancing way you feel, when every fairy tale come real, I've looked at clouds that way. But now it only blocks the sun, it rains and shows on everyone, so many things I should have won, but clouds got in my way ..."
Bashir watched as Vic sang rather softly. He'd not done this one before. ". . . . The dizzy dancing way you feel, when every fairy tale comes real, I've looked at life that way." He smiled to himself, remembering better moments. "But now it's just another show. You leave them laughing when you go. And if you care, don't let them know, don't give yourself away." His smile turned melancholy. "I've looked at life from both sides now, from up and down, and still somehow, it's life's illusion's I recall. I really don't know life, at all ... " Bashir let himself get lost in the music one last time. Vic finished, "I really don't know clouds, at all."
"Thank you," said Bashir. He didn't add that it felt like good bye.
o0o
He'd fallen asleep quickly, because he was exhausted by the emotions. But a telltale noise alerted him to the presence of someone in the room. He said quietly, "Lights," and startled his visitor.
He'd expected Sloan, but it wasn't him. But he did recognize the man. He'd been is adviser at the hearing. It figured.
"What?" he asked, wishing he'd go away.
He was officious and to the point. "Sisko will be back tomorrow. We want to know what transpired on Bajor. He talks to himself in his quarters, which is why you have the device. Don't just look and turn it off. We expect results this time, and proper ones."
The man disappeared in a transporter blur. He stared at the space where he'd been. He wished he could escape back into the illusions but they were all gone.
o0o
Sisko had returned sometime very late, and Bashir vaguely remembered a beep when Sisko had entered his quarters. The day had followed in a kind of fog. The numbness was still there. He did his job and nobody noticed. But he didn't feel anything. He came back early, eating a quick dinner before that. He locked the door. The biomonitor showed stress, but not an untold amount. Sisko had made some sort of decision, or had come near.
He turned on the monitor. Sisko was pacing this time. Finally he sat, rather heavily, in the middle of his couch.
"Personal Log, Stardate ... fill it in. What do I do?" Sisko sounded very tired, and yet oddly relaxed. He listened as the captain started pacing again. "I've got to talk about this. I can't sit on the fence anymore. I have to make a decision."
Bashir looked up at the man, as he collapsed again. This time he didn't try to get up. "I remember early in the war. All we'd done was retreat. It was getting more and more hopeless. We took out the white storage unit just to show them we could." He got silent again, putting his head in his hands for a moment. Bashir watched, fascinated at the play of emotions. "But I was afraid. All I could see was Earth dominated by Jem'Hadar. All I could see was the end of freedom for generations."
Sisko shook his head as if to clear the image of something. "And then, all those dead, all those fine young people who gave their lives for the ideals of the Federation. All those people who believed in the values it represented." He sat up straight, as if looking directly at Bashir. "It was bittersweet when we took it back, so many dead, but so much joy too. It was ... intense. I knew then. I was home."
He stood up and started pacing again, his voice louder. "I knew. I'd gladly die to defend the Federation, and Earth. I'd lie to save them. I'd sell my self-respect. But it's not home. Here is home. Bajor is home."
He sat again, calmer for a time. "At first, I welcomed the unification of my home with the one I'd left. It would be so easy that way. But there are so many *questions* Starfleet and the Federation can't or won't answer. I just can't ignore them. And then there are the doubts. All that before the Romulans came in was accepted by someone in the Federation far too easily." His voice was deep now, full of intense pain. "And that business with Bashir. It was a mistake but maybe the same ones turned him into that cold-blooded monster he became after they took him."
Bashir utterly froze. He had long wanted Sisko to apologize, but this was the best he was going to get. Sisko started talking again, just above a whisper. "All those ideals that so many died for-still are dying for-are they just an illusion? Has expediency become our way? I remember the Sanctuary District, when Bashir asked, amid all that misery, if under the skin we were no better than the Cardassians or the Romulans? Maybe, if you look deep enough, you find that's true."
Abruptly, Bashir was shaken from his trance by Sisko, when he picked up something and threw it. His baseball bounced off the wall. Sisko just watched as it finally settled.
"What do I do?" asked Sisko in a little above a whisper. "Starfleet questions my loyalty, and I don't know what to say. But all those dead, all those names, what do I say to them?"
Sisko started sobbing, deep broken sobs unlike anything Bashir had ever heard from him. He kept muttering "what do I say?"
Bashir couldn't watch anymore. He turned off the device, and stared at the monitor for a time. Indeed, it was a good question. What did either of them do to extricate themselves from this trap?
o0o
Garak stared at the padd, stunned. All he could remember were the dead Cardassian's he'd found so long ago, the ones one of *them* had killed. And he could see this new slaughter, bodies thrown at odd angles, some still alive but slowly dying from the Jem'Hadar induced internal bleeding. And he could see the worry on the faces as well when they realized that they had not only failed but given over a deadly weapon to their enemies. Whatever his contact's people were called, they'd taken the gel and were making a biological weapon out of it. But they'd miscalculated. They'd tried to test it and left their hidden lab. The Jem'Hadar had killed them all, and taken the virus. With its own expertise it had altered the virus so now it killed the same species it was meant to save.
It was said the Founders were dying. Garak wondered, should they fail to save themselves, if they would guarantee that they would not die alone.
His new friend was going to pick up the suit in a short while. He had once thought humans incapable of the cold-blooded deceit that Tain had expected. He'd seen them as too weak and too easily broken. But he had come to reevaluate this idea. He would be very wary of this man. Behind the smile he was as cold as the Orders best.
o0o
Bashir had waited to write his report, even if it was late. They wanted to know what had gone
on at the meeting, and Sisko had said nothing of that. He suspected they had other ways of finding out, but his job was to keep tabs on the inner Sisko. His reports would be very carefully analyzed. If he told them about the Sisko he'd seen that night, he was sure Sloan would find a way to take advantage of it.
He would have to find a way to avoid that.
Sisko had admitted it was a mistake. He knew that Sloan would have persisted with or without Sisko. It wouldn't have really made much of a difference. Sisko had called him a monster. It had touched something deep inside him. Once, in his own eyes, he had been one. He had learned to respect what he was. But it hurt that Sisko had come to that conclusion.
He decided he would not be a monster. He would not be a party to the destruction of Sisko or anyone else. But he would do it very carefully.
Shutting out his emotions, he considered what Sisko had revealed. He began the report with his physical condition. "Subject was very tired, and had difficulty concentrating." He was being torn by dual loyalties, but was not disloyal to either. "Subject expressed doubts about the stability of the situation." He wanted it to work out, somehow. "He expressed hopes that a solution could be found." But he'd given no details. If decisions had been made, Sisko hadn't given a clue. "However, subject did not reveal any details of his meeting that can be used to validate any analysis of his outlook." He read it over again. Sisko had said he was cold-blooded. The report certainly sounded that way. He added the finishing touch, in case anyone thought he wasn't interested in his job. "It is recommended that the trends noted be pursued by further observation."
He closed the log and transmitted it, and went to sleep without any difficulties. He was not alone. His last thought as he fell asleep was that now he shared far more with Sisko than anyone he knew.
o0o
Garak was smiling as his visitor viewed the suit, currently being worn by a mannikin. The young man was in civilian clothing this time, and was smiling as well. "Mr. Garak, you've outdone yourself. It is most impressive. I'm not sure he'll really notice, but his daughter will be very pleased. And very surprised. His idea of clothes is the first plain replicator pattern he can find."
"I'm most gratified," he said. At least he could be sincere about that. If there was a daughter and a wedding, he cautioned himself. He wasn't used to humans being as manipulative as he was.
His customer handed Garak a padd. Garak took it cautiously. "I'd like something for myself. I sort of put this together. If you think it could be improved ... "
Garak studied the image. "It is quite appealing," he said. It was a little too much like the sort of thing Bashir had picked out, but Garak kept that to himself.
"I'll be back through here in a week or so, if you could have it ready then." He was still smiling.
"I believe so," he answered. But there was a sound, almost inaudible, and his visitor stopped smiling.
He handed Garak another padd. "When I pick up the outfit add this to it. We need this information as soon as possible but it isn't wise to transmit it at this time. So include it on the padd. That's all you need to do."
Despite his long training, Garak was privately surprised by the abrupt change in mood. "I may be able to get it sooner," he said, testing the man.
"Can't be helped. I must stress this is very sensitive material. Take great care how you get it. It must not be traced to you. I trust you have your own resources." The tone was cold as a dead sun, and Garak wished he would simply bring the padds. That way he wouldn't have the orders to remind him of the growing feeling of being as trapped as the doctor.
o0o
Sisko rose early, having been notified that Ross would be calling that morning. It was unfortunate it was in person. He found he didn't want to deal with the man across a desk. Subspace transmissions gave him a little room, even if it was only in his mind.
He was prepared. He had not said a word about the meeting to anyone, aware the walls had ears, but would tell Ross. He didn't trust the admiral, but it would suggest that he was going through official channels. It was important to be proper. Ross wasn't going to like what he heard.
The elected government of Bajor had considered the petition. They had voted to request official answers before negotiations regarding Federation membership proceeded any further. Sisko hadn't really been asked. Ross vastly overestimated his influence. But he knew he'd be blamed. He intended to come across as Captain Sisko this time. He had argued that negotiations should continue, but others had disagreed. He had tried. But he had not, admittedly, said a word against the request.
He knew the sort of things Ross would bring up. His position as the Emissary, his derailing of the first unification, and his release of the letters counted against him. But Ben Sisko still considered himself a loyal member of the Federation. He intended that to come across to the admiral.
Ross arrived late, and he'd been busy with the ever present pile of reports when his visitor was announced. Sisko wished he'd had more warning, but he believed he could manage.
Ross hadn't bothered with any banter. They'd hardly sat down in the conference room before he asked. "What happened, Ben?"
Sisko was being very official. "They are going to request answers to the questions raised by the petition. The vote is official." He watched as Ross got more tense. "They get answers or there won't be any more negotiations."
Ross looked glum. But he recovered faster than Sisko expected. "How firm is the support for this?" he asked.
Sisko privately wondered if he already knew. "Very firm. I did support continuing the negotiations, but minds were already made up." If Ross did have private information, nothing he'd said would contradict it.
"Can they be dissuaded?" asked Ross, thoughtfully.
"Perhaps I'm not being clear," said Sisko. "I don't believe the Bajoran government wants to refuse membership, but they just want some answers. If it appears that the Federation is unwilling to cooperate, they may choose to reject membership. But it isn't anywhere near as bad a situation as it looks."
Ross shrugged. "Well that's not my job. But I'll tell the politicians." He looked at Sisko, thoughtfully. "You're being quite reasonable. What happened?"
Sisko was privately worried that the politicians would give all the wrong answers, and Bajor would never be a part of the Federation. He didn't want that to happen. Somehow, he could still find a hope of compromise.
But Starfleet had to trust him. He had to make sure they understood that Bajor could not be convinced by rhetoric. He didn't know who Ross worked for, but he had some sort of influence. Perhaps if he could convince Ross there might be a chance.
"I just gave it some thought. We've had a lot of people die in the last year. I'd like to think they died for something."
Ross got very quiet. "I'll never forget how many people I've sent to their deaths. I don't want to see it all fall apart now that its end is in sight."
Ross understood. There was more to it, but Ross would accept that as a good enough reason. If he was lucky he'd make his own people listen. For Ben Sisko knew that in the end if it didn't work, he would still stand with Bajor.
o0o
The sound of Sisko's movements was playing in the background almost as if it was music. Bashir was only occasionally paying attention. The Captain had arrived in his quarters apparently calm, though the reading betrayed the turmoil inside him. It was only when he was alone, or believed he was, that he'd started to pace. It was the only outward sign of his internal distress. Bashir knew he'd been contacted by someone high in the Federation-not Ross this time. He'd had messages from Bajor as well. He had been firm in his position, to everybody. But Bashir knew he'd decided.
Bashir had eaten his dinner before, and had been reading while Sisko paced. Finally Sisko gave up and collapsed into a chair. "Personal Log," he began.
Bashir looked up from his book. He picked up a padd he used for notes. Sisko began, "I talked to politicians today. The Federation representative wanted to know why this was occurring. I get the impression he's doing a little research. Maybe we'll hear more from him." Sisko paused, ordering a raktageno. Settled down again, he continued. "What got me is how confused he was. He honestly didn't understand." Sisko shook his head. "When did we start to delude ourselves into thinking we were gods? When did just asking a few questions become such a major dilemma." He took a long sip of his drink, and looked at the ceiling. "I get the impression that he is trying to find an answer, and he doesn't much like what he finds." Sisko finished his drink, and got another. "Maybe," he said philosophically, "maybe Bajor was put here to save us from ourselves."
Bashir had put down his book and was listening. Sisko was so calm, too calm. Despite his use of the word "we" he had made up his mind. He only wished his own choices were as simple.
But Sisko was not spared the confusion. He sat again, with a newly filled cup, and his expression grew troubled. "Then there was the Bajoran minister. He doesn't understand either. It does no good to try to explain that this is unheard of. He thinks the Federation is stalling because the concerns are true, because they *have* no answers." Sisko took several long sips of his raktageno. "I wish, I just wish, I could get them to talk to each other. Perhaps I should," he said with much thought. "I wonder if they would balk ... "
Sisko was silent while he finished his cup, and got a third. This time he drank half of it before saying another word. "I didn't need this, not Friday. There weren't as many names. But they are still dying. Fleet says we may see more resistance towards the end, more dead than before. What happens to, to us, when the survivors come home and they don't see the illusion anymore?" He finished his drink, this time leaving it on the table. "Maybe then we can answer those questions, but I'm afraid it will be too late."
He looked at the cup and reached for it, putting it back. "End personal log," he said. He moved to another chair, picking up the cup. Bashir didn't bother to find out what he filled it with. He just turned off the monitor.
o0o
Garak was half-way done with the suit, and looked around his shop to find something else to do. He'd already gotten their information, and had indeed taken care with how he obtained it. He had expected it to be sensitive background. But it concerned certain dangerous background elements on the Bajoran's who had sponsored the petition. They were going to try to turn one or more of them-to change their minds. Garak understood this sort of thing. But why were they going to this much trouble over what was quite typical a pattern for the Bajorans?
He'd gone along to find out what *they* were up to, and now had a pretty good idea. He still wasn't sure where Bashir fit in, but he was certain it had to do with Sisko. The doctor's whole attitude toward the man had changed.
And if Sisko was Bashir's assignment, it made sense. The Prophets had destroyed an invading army, and altered the course of the war. But they had not done it for the Federation, or the Klingons, or any other of their allies. They had done it simply to protect Bajor.
There had been no traffic through the wormhole since then. Bajor and the station was a repair stop on the way to the front. Still, Garak understood power. Bajor had not lost any of its importance. It had, indeed, gained a special value to all the allies who would begin to distrust each other as soon as the Dominion and Cardassia were under control.
The Prophets would protect Bajor. Anyone who stood as an ally would benefit from that protection. In the Alpha quadrant the war would leave behind a legacy of confusion and instability, and possibly more wars. No one could guess what might come of the gamma quadrant. But should a new invader emerge, being Bajor's friend would be very important-even important enough to break all the rules to insure.
o0o
Bashir took his time, studying the notes he'd made before beginning his log. Sisko had used the word "we" in regards to the Federation, but despite the frustration there had been little stress. If Federation politicians failed completely, and Bajor rejected membership, Sisko would be more concerned with Bajor than the Federation. He wanted it to work, but if it didn't he would find a way to manage.
But Sisko was still vulnerable. What happened later would matter to Sisko, but for then it was a distant event. What mattered now, even as he was monopolized by preparations for the future, was the war. He still posted a list every Friday. The names had stayed real. It was a nightmare shared with many others, but one which Sloan could easily make use of.
For a long time he looked at the padd, wondering how to handle it. Then he erased it. There would be no evidence left of what had been said. He retrieved the other padd, and let it scan his finger before it opened the file. He keyed in the date and his identification code, and pushed everything away.
The words were dry and clinical. Sisko was always referred to as the "subject". He briefly summarized Sisko's concern that the Federation would fail to take it seriously and things would go wrong. He even mentioned Sisko's idea, in passing, of a face to face meeting between the politicians. "Recommendation is made that this be encouraged in some way." He paused, hoping it helped. Sisko might not like the method, but he'd appreciate the results.
Taking a deep breath, he got to the hard part. In case they were tapping into the device, he had to explain the stress. He stated that Sisko remained loyal the Federation, and believed that Bajor should be a part of it, but that his influence was limited. Sisko's understanding of Bajoran's reactions should also be respected. He gave the Captain a chance to pull off his game.
Perhaps, if Sisko could do it so could he. He still didn't know what to do, except he wanted out. But they would leave him with nothing. Sisko was just as trapped, but at least he had something to believe in. In the end, should the illusion fail, Sisko would still have a home. He'd already lost his.
Wording it carefully, he cautioned that Sisko found the endless questions intruded on his daily duties, for his primary concern was with the war. Sisko believed priorities were out of line. Bashir recommended, very cautiously, that they back off. Sisko had handled it well, but the strain was growing. It was most important that he continue to act with the care and moderation.
He closed the log, and inserted it into the device that transmitted it. But he was worried. He hoped he had not alerted Sloan to Sisko's distress over the war, and its ultimate costs. Should anyone tap into Sisko's deep seeded guilt, he would be theirs.
o0o
A little over a week since his last brief visit, Garak contact arrived for his suit. Garak was more cautious than normal, but the man didn't notice. He took the suit and went to a dressing room to try it on. A few minutes later he called in Garak. There was an odd *feeling* in the room.
"As I said, you are a wonderful tailor. And your information is very good." The man didn't smile. He was as cold as he'd been before.
"It wasn't easy to get," he said.
He handed the padd back to Garak. "This is slightly different, but also very sensitive. We need it as soon as you get it. Procedures are on the padd for this one."
Garak found that he liked the fake banter better. At least it sounded like he had a way out. But he tucked the padd into some supplies without comment. Instead he studied the suit. "It fits perfectly," he said.
"Yes, and I'll wear it," said his visitor in a more conversational tone as the odd feeling went away.
Garak gathered up his other clothes, and packing them hoped to find some clue. But they were just clothes. He handed them to the man outside, as he was admiring the new suit.
"Will you be ordering more suits?" asked Garak.
"I just might," said the man, but he didn't bother to smile. "I'll let you know."
Garak didn't follow him out. He never wanted to see him again. There had been no pretending this time, just business and orders. The abrupt change disturbed Garak. It reminded him too much of the change in Bashir. These men had taken away his only friend, and turned him into nothing. It was galling that he'd fallen into their trap as well.
He had to find a way out. It wasn't that he couldn't do what was asked, but that he didn't want to. He didn't want to save the Federation. They must have known, but would use him anyway.
Or, he corrected himself, he would allow them to. Using Quark's device, he'd tapped into Sisko's private log. But someone already had. Bashir was staying in his quarters later, only showing up at Quark's late in the evening. Since then he'd started looking at Sisko with what Garak would almost call understanding. It wasn't certain, but he was sure enough to take a chance.
Later that night, in his own quarters, he reread the padd Quark had given him. Sisko would be devastated by the news. If there was anything of the man he'd known left, Bashir would blame Sisko for his part, this time there being nothing to forgive. Whatever reports he was sending would be influenced by his bitterness, especially if he kept it to himself.
They believed Sisko to be a key man in relations with Bajor, and would do whatever was necessary to keep him on their side. He was certain that Sisko would not enjoy it. All they would do was push him away. Their plan would fail, and it would take the thief with it. It might take Bashir too, he noted to himself. But they'd already done that.
And while the pieces were falling apart, Garak would find a way to slip in the darkness and away.
End, Part 2, Chapter 10