Chapter 12

"I have been reading up on your files," Gul Merek said, in between tentative sips of his Kanar.

Sito watched him with incredulous eyes, as he sat there behind his severely crafted desk. "Is that why you asked me here?" she quizzed him, still maintain eye contact. She took a quick glance around the room. It was dull and poorly furnished. In fact, it was very poorly furnished. Inside Gul Toran's office, Sito could remember it as having been a little brighter and with a tiny bit more life. Gul Merek's, on the other hand, was stark and practically devoid of colour.

The only thing that could have been called a 'decoration' was a food replicator that sat in the far corner, as well as a cabinet filled with all sorts of bottles. Sito guessed it was all filled with Kanar of different strengths and colours. It looked quite pretty, she would even go so far to say. She knew Cardassians were likely too proud and xenophobic to showcase their possession of alien beverages.

"Not at all." He shook his head and set his glass down. He turned his computer screen, so that Sito, too, could see it properly.

Suddenly growing uncomfortable, Sito swallowed. "What do you want me to do?" she asked. "Read it?" She scanned the computerised image with quick eyes and found herself paling when she reached the end of the last sentence.

Bajoran. Starfleet. Ensign. Guidance systems down. Captive. The words ran through her mind and guilt began to form on her features.

A smile ghosted on his lips. "Is it the truth?" he asked.

She frowned, her neat brow furrowing. "What do you mean?" she asked him.

"I was referring to what you told my colleague," he then explained further.

"Your colleague?"

"Gul Toran," he elaborated, forming a steeple out of his hands on the desk.

Sito resettled in her seat and crossed her legs, trying to look more comfortable then she really was. "I don't understand," she said truthfully. She had remembered every detail she had told Toran of the moments building up to her capture. The memory plagued her.

Merek sighed, but he didn't looked particularly chagrined. "Regarding your escape. I want to know if it was truthful, or if you were deceiving us." As he spoke those last few words, his gaze darkened.

Sito nodded, the movement swift and full of fervour, but the conviction died down "I wasn't… deceiving you," she said in a small voice.

He raised a curious eye ridge. "You were not?" he asked, a hint of condescension in his voice.

Sito's lip wavered a little and she had to clamp her jaw shut to stop it moving anymore. "No, I – I wasn't," she concluded uncertainly.

"Don't lie to me," he said sternly. Sito didn't like his tone; it did not suit him.

She bit her lip. "I wasn't," she said, holding her chin up, trying to fight back the wave that was trying to strike her down.

From across the desk, he glared at her. "I trust you have heard of our…" he paused. "Torture methods," he finished.

She swallowed, but her throat caught. "I – yes." She fought to retain her stony expression.

"They are unrivalled in the galaxy," he said, with a small hint of sadistic pride. "Even the Tal Shiar cannot equal them."

A tear glinted in Sito's eye, but she didn't not wipe it away. Instead, she held it back. "I am a Starfleet officer. I won't give you any information that could jeopardise my ship or my crewmates, or the Federation."

Idly, he pursed his lips. "I am not much of an advocate for torturing prisoners."

Instantly, she lifted her head up and looked at him. Had she heard him right? Not an advocate for torturing prisoners.

"I find it does more harm than good," he continued. "But, not all agree with my view. You need to tell me the truth."

His gaze bore into her and she unfolded her legs, sitting forward in her seat. "The truth?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

He nodded firmly, slowly.

She was quiet for a long time, but she knew that it would be better for her – and probably for many other people – if she told Gul Merek. He had been kinder to her than the rest of the Cardassians at the penal colony. If there was anyone who would listen to her story, it would likely be him. "My Captain," she began, "he chose me for this mission, but he said it was my choice. I chose to go." And look how it turned out, she thought derisively.

"And, what mission would that be?" he asked, watching her every move.

She swallowed. "They needed a Bajoran, you see. And, I was the only Bajoran crewmember available."

"Why did they need a Bajoran?" he asked her incredulously.

"I was assigned to help escort a Cardassian back to his homeworld," she answered, a swathe of guilt almost burying her. She hated the thought of betraying Joret. "I was to pose as their prisoner."

He cocked an eye ridge. "A Cardassian? What for?"

She looked down at her hands as they sat idly in her lap. "He was a double agent."

"A double agent?" he repeated, getting interested, but slightly alarmed.

"Yes. He works for Cardassia and the Federation," she said in a hushed tone.

Merek smiled, and Sito couldn't tell if it was sincere or mocking. "How interesting," he said meditatively. "What was his name?"

Is, Sito wanted to say. What is his name? She didn't want anything bad to happen to Joret – if, indeed, he was still alive, so she kept quiet on that particular front. "Please, Merek," she said, her voice quavering. "Please, don't make me tell you."

Merek looked pensive, rubbing the bridge of his nose absentmindedly. At last, he spread his hands on the table and sighed. "I will have to include everything you have told me to the database, understand that."

Sito nodded. "I understand… Gul Merek." She hesitated, and then asked, "I thought you wanted to know his name?" She knew it would probably just come back to bite her later on, so she asked him then.

"That is not important," he said stiffly. "The Federation was wrong to send you on that mission."

She blinked. "Wrong?"

"I simply mean, you are far too young to be risking your life like that," he elaborated.

The Bajoran just shrugged. "Like I said, I chose to do it."

"All the same," he countered, his expression softening.

"I only did what I thought was right," she continued. "I thought all Cardassians were bastards." She paled and promptly apologised. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

He waved a dismissive hand, so she picked up where she had left off. "Then, when I stepped into the shuttlecraft with J— the Cardassian, I realised that, maybe, I was wrong." She wondered if he had picked up on her revealing the first letter of Joret's name.

Apparently not. "I am glad you have changed your mind," he declared, a thin smile on his lips.

"I have not," she said indignantly. "Only slightly." She was about to stand up when she remembered that she would have to be dismissed. "I just wanted to say thank you for the help you've given me."

"You helped a Cardassian," he said, having worked it out. She wondered how. "I thought it only fair."

Sito agreed, but wondered if there was an ulterior motive to his actions of helping her.

"Have you finished the fruit?" he asked, putting an end to her curiosity-driven train of thought.

She stared at him blankly for a short while. And then she remembered what he was referring to. "Oh, yes," she replied, holding back a smile of gratitude.

"I trust you enjoyed it?" he asked.

The fruit was very sweet, but Sito found its taste to be more than agreeable. She didn't want him to look downcast, as much as it confused and disgusted her. He was the enemy, she should want him to feel sadness and defeat. However, he was also the only Cardassian on the colony who had shown her the damnedest bit of respect. That being said, she nodded. "It was very nice," she finally replied.

He nodded and smiled, obviously pleased with her response. "If I am correct, labour resumes soon."

Sito's face darkened. "It does?" she asked. "Oh, it does," she then repeated, realising what the time was. She stood up. "May I leave?"

For a time, Gul Merek sat there and pursed his lips in thought. "It would not be untoward if you were to stay a little while longer."

Sito watched him with curious eyes. A muscle in his sculpted jaw twitched and he squared his shoulders. "I must return to my labour duties," she finally said, the words coming out in rather a hurry.

He, too, stood up. "Yes. That would be… best." He hunkered down marginally and keyed a few things into his computer. It emitted a single beeping sound. "Affirmative," the androgynous voice acknowledged. "I have arranged for a guard to escort you back to your labour site," he announced, looking up and standing at his full height again.

So he invites me here for a chat, after giving me food and water, and then has me escorted back to work? Sito thought to herself, her confusion growing as each word formed in her head. She knew better than to argue with a Cardassian, regardless of the fact that they seemed to be on her side. She had seen what happened to prisoners who disobeyed or even stumbled whilst walking. Nothing seemed to escape the watchful eyes of the Cardassians. So, she nodded and he stepped aside, letting her pass.

"I would not be against it if you were to visit me again," he said abruptly.

A smiled tugged at the corner of her mouth as she was whisked away by a very intrigued Garresh. He shackled her hands in front of her and took her back to her labour site, handing her the required tools. He didn't leave as soon as he had dropped her off, though, which confused Sito. No, it alarmed her. He watched her intently for a second or two, before resuming his duties elsewhere.

Sito couldn't help but wonder why he had been looking at her for an unusually long amount of time. As she began chiselling away at the dense, fiery rock, she heard someone working next to her. Sito turned to face them and saw that it was a raggedy, middle-aged woman. She was thin and had deep lines of weariness and contempt buried into her face.

"Are you new?" the shabby looking woman asked Sito, whilst still knocking away at the wall. She coughed and spluttered, and not only when the dust particles from the rock face went down her throat or up her nose.

Sito continued her work and tried not to take notice of the woman. She knew what had happened to Kitos Moran when she had been talking to him. She didn't think she could bear to have it on her conscience again if it were to happen to the woman, or indeed to herself.

"Girl," the woman said, rubbing her own nose with the back of a dirty hand. Sito saw that the woman was human. "There's no need to worry about getting caught."

Sito looked at the woman and frowned. "What do you mean?" she asked quietly.

"I'm a withered old hag," she said. "They won't even bother killing me."

Sito wanted to ask, What about me?

As if she had read her mind, the woman added, "Judging from the amount of time that damned overseer spends with you, I think it's safe to say that you won't be high on anyone's killing list here."

Sito didn't much like her choice of words. Killing list. She trembled involuntarily. "I thought that was protocol," she answered sheepishly.

The woman gave her a look – the kind of look that mothers give their children when they know something. "Protocol? Nah," she said, scoffing.

Sito stepped away from the older woman slightly, trying in vain to focus her attention on the work they were meant to be doing.

"I presume you were wondering why that bloody guard was watching you," she said.

Sito almost jumped out of her skin. "He wasn't watching me."

"You and I both know it was odd how he stared at you for so long," the woman said. "Don't get me wrong, you are a pretty little thing, but that was strange."

"I don't know what you mean," Sito said huffily.

"The overseer does not ask prisoners – especially Bajoran prisoners to come to his office," she said simply. "It just does not happen."

She was in too much of a daze to even wonder how the human woman had figured that out. "Well it happened to me," Sito snapped, but she was too confused for her tone to betray much anger.

"Precisely," the woman proclaimed.

"I'm Starfleet," Sito stated. "That was why he wished to talk with me. He asked me about my mission." Sito believed what she, herself, had said, but that was then. As the minutes ticked by, she was beginning to wonder if she did truly accept them as true.