Garak took all time in the universe before he looked up from his work. Of course he had heard the visitor. But from the corner of his eye, the Cardassian had also seen it was unlikely a regular customer. Perhaps not a customer at all. What would a person with no sense for aesthetics want to order from a tailor? The latest fashion? Certainly not. But Garak was also aware of the challenge. Weyoun was likely the closest thing to an equal opponent when it came to disguises, lies and misleading hints on this station.
Garak was also aware that he had missed his chance to make the first move in this game. The strange feeling he had since the occupation ended had been quite distracting. And Weyoun had made his opening move by suddenly deciding to give up important information. He had invited Garak to the briefing, along with 3 men in way more powerful positions. And Garak felt it was an invitation to join this game. His move.
After a felt eternity, he finally looked up from the dress he was working on. "How can I help you?" he smiled. "Have you decided to take my advise and change your wardrobe?" Weyoun just stood there and looked at him in a way Garak couldn't really sort in. How fun! he thought, realizing the excitement about not being able to read someone's intentions from his face at first sight.
"I think... I need..." Weyoun's eyes wandered through the shop, drifing over suits and dresses aimlessly. "A new suit, maybe?" Garak tried to help, well aware that this was probably the most unlikely answer Weyoun would give. "...advise", he said instead, his glance came to a hold on Garak's face. "Of course!" the Cardassian smiled, not willing to give up the game yet. "I'm an expert in this field, I'm sure we can find a new outfit for you that will..." "I need no new clothes", Weyoun broke him up. "Then why did you come to a tailor?" Garak replied, showing his best and most sincere version of surprise.
"Did you betray Cardassia?" The Vorta's eyes started wandering again. If Garak hadn't known better, he would have said Weyoun looked bored. "Now, that's quite a personal question", he smiled. "Why would you think I did?" "You are here." Weyoun sounded bored, too. Or was it something else? This was a challenge, something Garak had missed a bit. Things had all been too clear and too easy in the past weeks. "I had no reason to leave", he said. "It seemed too much of a risk to give up a well going tailor business for an uncertain career on Cardassia. But that doesn't mean I never considered this option." Weyoun nodded, still distracted by something that was not in this room.
"Do you think I made the right choice?" He looked back to Garak. "Who am I to judge your decisions?" the tailor shrugged, putting a small dose surprise in his voice, a small dose shock, and a tiny dose offense. "You are the only one on this station who may know what I'm talking about", Weyoun said. "You had the chance to return to your people. But you didn't. You could have done nothing in all this, yet you helped Damar take the station, and then you helped the Federation to take it back. You influenced things, though you didn't have to do it. Not for yourself. Not for anyone else's well being. And as much as I understand the attraction of playing games and pulling strings, I somehow don't think you did all this for your personal entertainment. You are not a man who does things without reason."
An equal opponent. Garak hadn't expected him to give up so much of his real reason to visit him that soon. Now it was on him to chose the next step in this game. All in. "So you are asking me for advise what to do now?" he asked. "Kind of", Weyoun replied. "I'm not used to have nothing to do. And I wonder if there is, or ever will be, something to do for me on this station. People will never really trust me, and my talents can't be put to use without trust. Only a fool would give me access to tactical information, intelligence reports or even a military command. Not now, not later."
"Don't be so sure", Garak smiled. "I never thought people would trust me. I'm the enemy, just like you. And yes, it is strange to suddenly be trusted, especially if you never gave anyone a reason to trust you. Actually, I'm still not all comfortable with it myself. If you want my advise... Don't rush things. Just find something to keep you busy for a while and see what happens."
"That is my problem", Weyoun said. "I don't know how to keep myself busy. The Found... Odo... won't give me orders." "Well, maybe it is time you decide for yourself what you want to do." Garak still tried to read the Vorta's face. "Is there nothing you could never do because of your duties in the Dominion? Many species have so-called hobbies. Things they do for fun and entertainment. I myself occassionaly play tennis, an earth game, with Dr. Bashir." When Weyoun didn't react, Garak continued: "Maybe you want to take a look at the data base, and find something you want to try." "I already know what I want", the Vorta said, slowly. "See?" Garak smiled. "Then you just have to try it. You have the time for it now. What is it?"
Now the Vorta looked sad, and he made no attempt to hide it. "I just want to go home", he said. "You know as well as I do that I can't do that." Garak said nothing; he felt caught off guard for a moment. Weyoun didn't wait for an answer. He turned to leave. "Maybe I should try this tennis", Garak heard him say when he left the shop.
Commander Telar steepled his fingers. Not that he habitually did so but he had once seen a Vulcan do it quite often when thinking and it always seemed to work. THe truth of the matter was, there wasn't much thinkint to do. Actually, the course seemed quite clear.
"Well, it sounds as though our friends on the surface need help." Telar smiled vaguely savagely, "And I'd be inclined to give it to them if..." He trailed off, knowing that the sentance need not be finished.
"Our stores are full, Commander," came the reply Telar wanted to hear. His smile stretching far beyond vague, Telar dropped his hands to his knees and sat forward slightly. There was almost a sneer on his lips as he gave the order to arrange for a "rescue party" of thirty heavily armed men. "And don't forget to bring along a crate of supplies. We musn't be stingy, after all."
As various officers stood to join the team Telar himself also stood. By the slight tilt of the sharply angled faces around him, the commander could tell that his officers were surprised that he would risk himself on first contact with these people. But most of these officers were too young to remember the old Telar. The Telar who never backed down from a challenge, never sat back in the shadows to allow lesser men the honor of defending the Empire.
Even more confusing was his choice of weapons. However many of his men did know him well enough to understand that his reason for bringing the oversized rifle had nothing to do with firepower.
Still, they were not aware that the commander's Honor Blade had been sharpened and polished for the occasion.
Telar stepped into the transporter alongside the first wave of Romulan officers.
They don't remember those days. Not yet.
Of all the space travelling species, it had to be Romulans.
Damar quietly sighed when one of soldiers briefly appeared in his door, nodded to signal there was no fight outside, and disappeared again. Romulans were, after all, still better than the Borg, Damar thought in an attempt to see things from a not completely desperate point of view.
When he stepped outside, a Romulan Commander, displaying a huge rifle, stood between some of his men, unpacking supplies from cargo crates. He looked around, scanning the progress and possible set ups, then his eyes met the Cardassian. Quickly, they checked the rank, but the Commander didn't make any effort to walk towards his Cardassian counterpart. Damar made his way through scattered parts of equipment and wreckage until he reached Telar.
"Let's get through with the formalities first", he said, somehow amusing himself with his words. "We surrender at your terms. Did we violate your territory or something? If so, yeah, we'll stand trial and all; I bet even your prisons are a better place to spend the rest of our life than this... piece of rock." Telar raised an eyebrow, thinking. This wasn't exactly the welcome he had expected. But maybe it would make things even easier than he thought. He decided to play along - for now. His glance drifted over the damaged ship, then back to Damar. "Oh, no worries about politics. It's obvious you didn't intend to violate any territories." Looking briefly to his rifle, he added: "But I assume you understand we had to take certain precautions before we transported down. You must admit, your people have a habit of tricks and traps. After all, we are still on war, aren't we?"
For a moment, Damar didn't react at all. Then, he slowly said: "I can't be certain. I can only tell you that I don't intend to return to Cardassia until I get further information about the situation there." Telar nodded, lingering. "So you know things have changed?" Damar sighed. "What do I know? I sit on this rock without communications. I barely know anything, except I was warned to not return to Cardassia Prime." "Interesting", the Romulan said, more to himself. "That warning... It didn't come from the Vorta by any chance?" Immediately, Damar went into caution mode. "How do you know that?" he asked. "He shared certain insights with the Federation, the Klingons and me. Yet he isn't willing to give up the really interesting parts." He paused, then added: "It's a pity the Federation won't allow me to... investigate further. I assume a Cardassian commander wouldn't hestitate there..." "Your assumption is correct, especially when it comes to this particular informer", Damar nodded. "However, maybe we can help each other to fill in some blanks. I certainly have no love for the Dominion, so here's the deal... I share any tactical information I have, you make sure the attacks are focussed on these forsaken Jem'Hadar and the Cardassian casualties are kept low. And while we're at it, chit chatting about the war and where the Dominion may or may not have spies, secret facilities or so, we have some Romulan Ale."