A/N: Come on, guys, I know someone's reading this – and I really do value your input, because I'm getting nervous about where things are going. Approval prompts inspiration, disapproval prompts lots of editing and gnashing of teeth, but nothing prompts, er... nothing. Help me out?

PART TEN: BULLETPROOF II

I won't let you turn around and tell me now I'm much too proud

To walk away from something when it's dead

Do do do your dirty words come out to play when you are hurt

There's certain things that should be left unsaid

– La Roux

All too soon they were outside Shakaar's office, accompanied by a nervous security team who Dukat took great delight in glaring at until they looked away hastily. Kira knew they were watching her with him and thinking all sorts of things that made her cringe with shame. Bajor may have signed a paltry little string-and-chewing-gum treaty with the Dominion, but here she was actively cooperating with their Cardassian puppet, one of the most hated people in Bajoran history. It made her ears burn. Shakaar's personal assistant, the fatuous blonde airhead whom he'd thrown her over for, looked up from her desk, blanched at the sight of Dukat, then hurried through a whispered exchange with the security chief.

'The translators in the First Minister's office are offline right now for maintenance – perhaps you'd like to wait until they're fixed?' she squeaked. Dukat stepped just a bit too close to her, dwarfing her with his considerable height, and smiled predatorily. Kira couldn't resist a grin behind her hand; she'd hated the little trollop ever since she caught her in bed with Shakaar.

'That won't be a problem,' Dukat purred. 'Do show us in, we're in a hurry.'

The secretary, now visibly terrified, pressed a button on her console and announced them. The doors slid open and revealed Shakaar at his desk, surrounded by padds and evidently very busy. He looked up and frowned at the pair of them. He looked like he hadn't had a day off in weeks; his eyes were puffy and his hair had evidently had fingers run through it too many times. Kira entered the room somewhat apprehensively. She was dreading this. She and Shakaar hadn't spoken face to face since their rather acrimonious breakup last year, and now she was waltzing in here with Dukat, of all people; it wasn't going to be pleasant. Dukat, by contrast, strode in like he owned the place – which in his mind, he probably still did, she thought caustically.

'I apologise for not warning you of my visit in advance, First Minister Shakaar,' Dukat announced loudly, not sounding the least bit apologetic, 'but this really couldn't wait.'

His voice sounded peculiar actually coming out of his mouth in her language, rather than just being run through a translator; it was less polished and self-assured, less savage. It was not how she'd heard other Cardassians speak classical Bajoran, mangling the intonation, playing fast and loose with grammar, either out of ignorance or arrogance; Dukat seemed to have more than a passing fluency in the language and even, to her surprise, spoke with a faint Rekantha lilt, which she realised was more or less the same as Ziyal's accent. Shakaar looked at him curiously, then his eyes slid to her and she saw a mixture of suspicion, embarrassment and affection-gone-sour reflected in them. His face looked paler and flabbier than she remembered; obviously he'd been inside too much recently. It wasn't attractive.

'Nerys, good evening... what brings you here with Gul Dukat?' he enquired. She huffed. Him and his stupid questions! She sometimes wondered what she'd ever seen in him. No, she thought, I used to see a great deal in him, until he got sucked in by First-Ministering and its faceless bureaucracy, not to mention the young and nubile secretaries that apparently came with the office.

'I'm Bajoran Liaison to Deep Space N– excuse me, Terok Nor, aren't I?' she snapped. 'I've been ordered here. Believe me, if I had any choice this is the last place I'd be.'

'I see,' Shakaar said thoughtfully, his eyes travelling between her and Dukat. Kira shifted her weight from foot to foot impatiently, while Dukat merely stood with an infuriating little smirk on his face.

'What do you see, Edon?' she snapped. Shakaar pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly.

'Nerys, please, don't pick a fight with me. Not now.'

'I agree with the First Minister, Major,' Dukat interrupted smoothly. 'We have far more important things to discuss than your romantic entanglements, fascinating as that subject is to me...'

'Alright, let's make this quick. I'm a busy man,' Shakaar grumbled. Dukat nodded.

'The Vorta facilitators are keeping you occupied, I take it. They are tiresome little creatures, aren't they? I bet you'd like to see the back of them. I certainly would.'

'Get to the damn point, Dukat, I don't have all day!'

'Ah, that Bajoran directness, how I've missed it! Very well. I have a proposal for you, Shakaar.'

Dukat leaned forward and rested his hands on Shakaar's desk. Kira was struck by the angles they made: Shakaar with his head tilted back to look up, Dukat a menacing but oddly graceful curve as he hemmed Shakaar in. She remembered Dukat once describing Shakaar as a 'lumbering, simplistic field-hand' and next to the Cardassian's dark lean figure, her old lover did seem exactly that; big, slow and not too bright. She was shocked at herself for making such an unflattering comparison. Shakaar was her friend, her mentor, her comrade – and while their romance had failed dismally, she still respected him a hell of a lot more than she did Dukat. But she couldn't deny what she saw.

'Bajor should join the Dominion,' Dukat said simply. Shakaar blinked, then burst out laughing. Kira smiled behind Dukat's back. Shakaar may have adopted the smooth, bland mannerisms of a career politician, but underneath he was still the defiant, charismatic leader she knew and looked up to. He wouldn't go along with this. Shakaar shook his head, still laughing.

'Oh, that's a good one, Dukat! You didn't seriously come all the way here to tell me that, did you?'

Dukat merely smiled and straightened up, folding his arms impassively.

'I see you find my offer amusing. I admit, it is rather ironic that the man all you Bajorans seem to hold personally responsible for the entire Occupation is giving you a way to rebuild your planet. May I be perfectly honest?'

'Be my guest. If, of course, Cardassians are actually capable of honesty.'

'We just have a different concept of honesty to you... which I'm sure is a conversation for another time,' Dukat added hastily as Shakaar and Kira both looked daggers at him. He shrugged. 'The Federation are suffering. The Dominion have driven them back further and further into their own territory, and unless a miracle happens they'll be on their knees before too long. You're quite fond of the Federation, aren't you, Shakaar?'

'What's that got to do with anything?' Shakaar retorted, though his eyes had turned guarded.

'We – you and I, Cardassia and Bajor – can be that miracle. If Bajor joins the Dominion, officially at least, that will force them to pull ships away from both Cardassia and the front lines to shore up their position here. They won't have enough resources to fully defend either of us, because the wormhole is still mined and I have no intention of letting their reinforcements get through, despite what you may have read in Major Kira's reports. If we both rise up against the Dominion at the same time, we will force them into the middle ground where the Federation and the Klingons will be waiting. Four against one is good odds, wouldn't you agree?'

Dukat stopped there and took a breath, perhaps struggling to translate his next sentence into Bajoran, but Shakaar jumped into the silence with a bitter snort.

'You're basically asking me to use Bajor as bait, to get Cardassia of the grave you dug for it,' he said flatly. 'You've obviously forgotten the last twenty-five years – lucky you. We Bajorans don't have that luxury.'

Kira was relieved beyond measure. She'd found herself beginning to get tangled up in this plan; it was closing over her head, getting under her skin, blocking out any possibility of an alternative – just like Dukat was. Now she was here with Shakaar, someone she knew like the back of her hand, she could get back to reality. She was a Bajoran Resistance fighter, a bold, uncompromising guerilla who'd rather die than agree to anything a Cardassian proposed. And for all that Shakaar was First Minister now, for all that he'd cheated on her, he was still her former cell leader and there was no one she trusted more than him when it came to making tough decisions.

'Why should I put my people at risk to help yours, after everything you've done to us?' Shakaar continued fiercely. Dukat sighed.

'Oh please, do you really need me to spell it out for you? In one-syllable words, perhaps?'

Shakaar just glared at him. Kira could see the tension crackling between them; both of these men were the leaders of their people, both were committed beyond all else to the survival of their own race, but other than that they were different as night and day. Shakaar was blunt, upright, honest almost to a fault – the quintessential Bajoran. Dukat, on the other hand, was the epitome of everything she hated most about the Cardassians: arrogant, unscrupulous, deceitful, an opportunist of the worst kind. Shoot him down, Edon, Kira willed her former lover silently. We didn't need him before and we don't need him now.

'Get out before I have you thrown out, Dukat,' Shakaar growled. He had got up from his chair and stood at his full height, which was a shade taller than Dukat; he was bigger and heavier, but the Cardassian was wily and wouldn't hesitate to fight dirty. If it ever came to blows, Kira had no idea who would win and a shameful part of her would really quite like to see it happen. No, she thought repressively, Edon would win of course, because I'd make sure he did. Dukat just laughed at Shakaar's angry protests.

'However did you make it this far in politics with a fuse as short as that? You wouldn't last a week back home,' he scoffed. Shakaar's face was gradually closing down into that blind, cold anger Kira knew so well, the anger of a Bajoran who's seen too many comrades die at Cardassian hands.

'I mean it. I'm not interested in your plan, and I'm getting sick of the sight of you. Now leave.'

'You obviously haven't caught on to the finer ramifications of my proposal,' Dukat sneered, 'so I'll make it easy for you. If you join me, we'll all have the chance to get rid of the Dominion for good and expand into the Gamma Quadrant. If you don't, however, that only leaves me with one option: I attack alone, and whether I succeed or fail, the Dominion will come after Bajor. And to be perfectly frank, you're in no fit state to fight them off.'

'Oh, I wonder why? Could it be because you stole our resources and destroyed our infrastructure?' Shakaar spat. Dukat shook his head, sighing.

'Sarcasm doesn't suit you Bajorans,' he remarked offhandedly. 'Besides, I thought you'd appreciate a way to repair some of the damage we caused in the Occupation – '

'I don't appreciate it coming from you, Dukat! I have absolutely no intention of simply trading one occupying force for another!'

'Even more reason to go along with my plan, then. The more you resist, the harder the Dominion will attack when the time comes – and believe me, it will come sooner or later. At least this way you can pick the time and place. Also,' Dukat broke off with a crafty smile on his face, 'have you thought about the leverage it will give you with the Federation? If you distract the Dominion, you'll be doing Starfleet and the Klingons a big favour. Could be useful one day.'

'I don't give a damn about one day!' Shakaar exploded. 'If you seriously think that I am going to risk Bajoran lives for you, then you're an even bigger fool than I thought you were!'

'We shall see who the real fool is, Shakaar. Think about it. I'm giving you a chance to benefit from this. If you want to throw it away, so be it, but you'll regret it before too long.'

'That's a risk I'm willing to take, Dukat,' Shakaar said coldly, 'and that's my final answer.' He poked a button on his desk. 'Security, this is the First Minister. Please escort Gul Dukat back to his ship.'

'Right away, sir,' came a relieved-sounding voice over the intercom. Dukat sighed.

'I assume you'll want to talk to the Major behind my back and turn her against me.'

'Turn me against you? It's hardly like I need encouragement!' snorted Kira. Dukat rolled his eyes with a humourless grin.

'Of course you don't. Well, don't let me stop you, I'm sure you two have a great deal to talk about. Major, it would be in your best interests to return to the shuttle within the hour. Otherwise I'll assume you've defaulted on our arrangement, and I will act accordingly.'

'An hour?' Shakaar demanded suspiciously. 'If you think I'm going to let you stroll around the place freely for an hour – '

'Oh come on, it's not as if I'm going to run amok and kill everybody. Amazing as it may seem to you, I actually have better things to do than massacring civil servants.'

Dukat's glib comments were clearly getting to Shakaar; luckily the Security detail arrived just then and tentatively escorted him outside. As soon as the door had closed, Shakaar rounded on Kira.

'What the hell is going on, Nerys? What have you two been cooking up?' he demanded, switching automatically to the Dakhur dialect they normally used. Kira felt like she'd been slapped.

'What d'you mean, us two? What exactly are you implying, Edon?'

She knew very well what he was implying, but she wanted to make him say it, just so he could hear how ridiculous and offensive it sounded.

'You're working with him, aren't you?' he asked accusingly.

'Only because he forced me to! Rom and I tried to sabotage the computer system to delay the work on the minefield, but for reasons I'd rather not go into right now,' she said bitterly, 'our plan failed and Rom got caught. Weyoun would have had both of us executed, but Dukat claims he persuaded him not to. In return for my help, he got Rom transferred to the penal colony on Bajor IV.'

'You scratch his back, he scratches yours? There's a word for people like that, Nerys. Collaborators.'

'How dare you!' she gasped, lunging towards him. He stopped her easily, his face as cold and stony as she'd ever seen it.

'Prove it. Prove you're not doing this willingly.'

Kira was speechless. How could he even begin to think that? About her, the youngest and most committed member of his cell, the girl who'd given up everything she had to fight against the likes of Dukat – she'd even abandoned her own father on his deathbed to go on a mission, and he dared call her a collaborator! She valued his honesty most of the time, but that was way below the belt.

'You should know me better than that by now, Edon,' she spat. 'You think I like this any more than you do? If you don't trust me, then transfer me somewhere else! Prophets know I'd appreciate one of the easy assignments once in a while!'

Shakaar gave her a long, hard look.

'I've got an easy assignment for you, Nerys. If you really hate Dukat as much as all that, then you shouldn't find it too hard to kill him. That's a sure-fire way of making sure the Dominion never come to Bajor; they wouldn't bother if he didn't suggest it. You know that.'

Kira stood still. Once she would have jumped at the chance to kill Dukat. But that was a simpler time, when they were the Resistance and he was Public Enemy #1. Part of her knew it was possible that he was simply concocting this elaborate ruse to get his hands on Bajor again, but it was a part that grew smaller as time went on. If he wanted to do that, he would have done it by now; there was nothing stopping him with the sheer brute force of the Dominion to back him up. Or maybe he was waiting until the reinforcements came through the wormhole? But if that was true, and he really did know how to get rid of the mines, Bajor would already be crawling with Jem'Hadar and Cardassian troops, treaty or no treaty. Shakaar stared at her expectantly.

'Well? Something the matter?'

'No,' she replied coolly. 'I'll have to think about how to do it.'

'Just make sure you do it. Sooner rather than later.'

'What if I get caught?'

'Don't get caught. I can't help you if you do; this is strictly off the record. You know the rules.'

Oh yes, she knew the rules alright: you never rat out a cell leader, not even under the most extreme duress. Shakaar was using her, just as Dukat was, only it hurt more coming from a friend than it did from a Cardassian. She'd expected nothing else from Dukat, but for Shakaar to drop her in it like this simply showed how expendable she really was to him, even after all they'd had together.

'Understood. I'll be going now, shall I? Since you're obviously so busy and everything,' she sneered, directing a scornful look at the door to the outer office where the blonde secretary was stationed. Shakaar had the good grace to look embarrassed for a moment, but he quickly shrugged it off.

'I want regular reports, Nerys. I don't like Dukat being this close without knowing what he's up to.'

'Try being stuck on the station with him and his Dominion cronies! It's no picnic, I'm telling you.'

'Well, the sooner you get rid of him, the sooner those cronies will be gone. Have a safe trip back.'

And that was that, apparently. He was her First Minister, her leader, her comrade – he was supposed to defend her against Dukat's villainy, not accuse her of collaborating then give her some kind of suicide mission! Well, she thought viciously, that's the last time I trust him with anything.

'Don't trouble yourself with showing me out, First Minister, I know where the door is,' she snapped, then turned on her heel and left, fixing the unlucky secretary with a glare that could melt rock.