Note: Man I agonized over this one since I'm worried it might be confusing. I'm hoping that it pulls the last few chapters together, maybe, hope hope. Anyway, starting to lead into the next arc and damn is it hard not to spoil my own plots but I will keep mum about who's appearing and what's happening. This chapter mostly talking but no real warnings except possibly an affront or two to Garak's dignity. Thank you all for continuing to read and support me! C&C always welcome.
This is certainly not how Garak envisioned his death. His legs wrap tightly around Julian's waist, his arms around Julian's neck, over his shoulders. He does not allow himself the indignity of recalling the ridiculous name that Julian had given this position. No. He will not do it. It's a child's position surely, and if there are Cardassian children who engage in such horseplay they enjoy a childhood gaiety that was long lost to him. But Julian had made a quick flick to the last two feasible doors revealing the "o"s to whatever conclusion, and then begged Garak this indulgence. And with the wall closing in, Garak put his life and dignity in Julian's hands and jumped on his back, holding on for dear life when that sprint started.
Enhanced reflexes, enhanced strength to a degree, but the speed at which we are moving now surely must rival the most elite of human runners. Julian, even with Garak on his back runs like the proverbial wind. If there are any poisoned projectiles to be found then Garak has no doubt that they've been left in the dust so to speak. He sees the wall coming closer and he tries to shrink closer as much as he can without hindering Julian's long strides. Garak has given up on the idea of shutting his eyes, the wild motion making him nearly sick, and he instead looks ahead to a door in the distance only praying to the State, to the ancients, to anyone who might answer, that they clear this before the wall melds them into one permanent mass. He's certain that Julian must've easily run the length of the town but that could also be his perception completely knocked askew. Garak doesn't question it and he's certain that he's stopped breathing as well. Julian seems to be breathing enough for the both of them anyway.
Though perhaps that isn't the best tact since he can feel his head start to swim as that door comes into full view, and Julian is nearly forced into the wall. Garak lets out a breath, then draws another as soon as he realizes that he'd already expelled all the air in his lungs. And it is in that slight raise of his head that he catches sight of the small cubby that's opened next to the doorway with two bright keys. It's dangerous and insane and he's not sure if his reaching would offset the delicate balance that Julian has. The door is almost within reach, and already Garak is pulling his arm in to Julian even tighter.
"K-Ke," is all he can stammer, his jaw locked suddenly, a shiver racking his body. But it is enough for Julian as Garak curses that moment of frailty, and he sees the hand grabs the keys just as they dive through that opened doorway into yet another damned darkened room.
Julian grabs a chain, at least that's what it seems and a light comes on, aether by that faint bluish cast. He sees that glint of emerald eye shine, emphasized quite spectacularly with the aether and he refrains from commenting. But he does open his mouth, taking sight of nothing else but a square room that's far too small and a wooden ladder leaned up against the wall. The moment he does, Julian's hand is over it, Julian crossing in front of him quickly raising a finger to his lips. Garak nods in understanding wondering what's going on when the the keys are carefully placed in his hand. He pockets them as Julian moves slowly, non threatening to bring his mouth to Garak's ear cupping a seal, his voice even after that precaution barely above a breath.
"Can you hear me at this volume?" he asks, and Garak nods. "I can hear them above us," Julian continues and Garak must admit the moisture condensing from Julian's spent breath is tickling his ear somewhat uncomfortably. Still, he has far better self control than to squirm, and he shuts his eyes, letting his focus come solely to Julian's voice, not allowing that fear to grip him. Especially not when he hears a startled hiss of "Nog!" Nog. The dead Ferengi Starfleet officer. The mastermind behind all this no doubt, I'd bet my life on it. He already has, really when he thinks about it, thinks about the last few harrowing moments leading up to this hard earned respite. And this is just one more piece fitting into the puzzle as Julian continues on. "Ferengi can hear as well as I can. Possibly better. I can hear them above me speaking in their normal tones. If we speak louder they'll hear. I think you need to hear this Garak. Perhaps we ah... that is you can decide from there how to approach this." Yes, yes of course. Smart words for a doctor, shrewd, calculating. Are you really just a retired Starfleet medical officer? You've ben strangely calm this entire time, Julian, and there are a million other little clues that are making me wonder just how much more there is to you than I already know.
Garak simply nods and remains still as Julian continues to speak.
"Nog is saying that there should be more noise than this, Jake... Jake!..." Julian clears his throat. "Nog and Jake. The two of them. But there should be more noise. Moogie- that's a Ferengi word, God, that means Leeta then." Garak tenses in spite of himself curious about that statement. Somehow Julian senses it, a smile sounding in his voice. "She raised him, you know. Long story, that. But they seem to think something is amiss. Screams, there should be screams. The wall was triggered. Moogie let me know the moment the first trap fell. She's been watching, keeping track of the triggers that are linked to... God, this is all under Rom's..." Garak's mouth quirks, amused at Julian's indignant tone that his clandestine little spying hole wasn't the sole illicit occupant. "It has to be down deeper. And we're deeper still..." Garak swallows hard willing him silently not to dwell on the depth of their imprisonment. Ladder, there's a ladder right there, Elim. You're a few minutes' climb to the cellar, to the clean air and you're in no danger of the walls caving. They're solid, you saw that. Focus already!
"There should be screams. If they're down there, they have to be dead. There's no way they could have set the wall off and run that length. It's not possible... Jake cannot believe they're dead. They're quarreling over this now. Jake questioning Nog's methodology. No one was supposed to die of course but what was he supposed to do..." Garak sighs at the convoluted recall and pulls away. He still doesn't dare open his eyes but turns by feel, by instinct and in a mimic of Julian's earlier action gives a quick whisper.
"Narrate it, if you would please," he requests hurriedly and feels a faint vertigo as the two of them step around each other. Garak notices then a slight misstep to Julian's movement that he almost writes off but instead lets remain floating there, a careful bookmark as Julian resumes his speaking, doing a rather admirable impersonation of a Ferengi accent in Federation Standard.
"You do not understand what is at stake here, Jake. They have already killed the others under orders. You know that Red Squad was special, but you do not understand what that meant for some of them. What that meant for Watters and Farris. I should not even be telling you any of this Jake. You are a civilian and these are things that even I should not be privy to."
"I think we're a bit past that point now, Nog. Any anyway, we can't... if they're dead then we need to tell Odo. We need to alert Starfleet, we need to-"
"This is not about Starfleet, Jake, this is Section 31. I didn't even think that it existed. I thought that it was nothing but a rumor, but it wasn't. That was my mistake of course and I cannot afford to make any more. Not with what is at stake. You have to understand that we encountered an enemy out there. I started to tell Moogie, but had to stop. I couldn't do that. Not after what she's been through and knowing this, and seeing these, it's coming Jake. I do not know how much longer we have but there have been signs through the wormhole near Deep Space Nine. We don't know enough about them yet or... or they might, but they aren't telling us. The Kironide we found was Platonian Kironide. The legend stuff. Except that it is not a legend. It is real and it is dangerous. Section 31, Watters, Farris, they want to use this to fight the Dominion, to develop human weapons against the enemy."
"Like Doctor Bashir?" Garak expects a swallow, a tell as Julian repeats those words but there is nothing. Again he files that away.
"Doctor Bashir is not a weapon, Jake. And Doctor Bashir has... thoughts... has a mind. They are afraid. I... I understand that. You have never seen the likes of these creatures. They are far more ferocious, far more dangerous, more ruthless than any Klingon. They are monsters. There were only eleven of us alive, Jake. You cannot imagine what I had seen to come to that point. I have nightmares about it. I cannot sleep. I see it when I close my eyes. I can still hear them. I... I could not burden Moogie with that. Not with everything she's been through. The war will never come here. And if it does, they cannot fight as we know how to fight. They will die like everyone else before them. But the rest of the Federation is not so protected. Watters wants to give the Kironide to Section 31. I do not know how early it started but I intercepted a communication. Watters was careless. He and I had argued. It is too dangerous for anyone to have, for the Federation to have. Better that we destroy it but I did not believe until we'd mined nearly a ton of it that it was truly anything but the stuff they play with in the labs. And by then it was too late. So I stole it. Five of us stole it. We seized the ship from them by force. And we dead dropped it here so they couldn't get it off world, not that easily. You know that transports cannot lock onto anything on world. They couldn't orbit close enough."
"I don't get it, Nog. Are you in trouble? They had to have gotten the ship back, it was all over the news when Watters led the ship back to Starfleet. How did you even manage this far? Leeta said they were trying to kill you!"
"You cannot kill a dead man, Jake. Remember? I'm dead. A hero with honors now and there's nothing else that you need to know. Collins and I thought it was for the best. We need to trap them and destroy the Kironide. The only ones who know about this are us and a man named Sloan and he dare not leak this to the rest of the main command. Starfleet has no authority, no jurisdiction here. I had to get them to Westworld. They have his authorization. No quarter. The five of us thought we would be safe with the keys scattered. To make sure they could not break the container seal. But it's down to Dory... that is Collins and me. The others who sided with us are dead. Disappeared. The four that sided with them have been reassigned to a long mission and for the best. It is better for cowards to turn tail and run. I am sorry I had to lie to Moogie but there was no other way to get back here. They've been tracking my movements and this is what it has come down to. I need those keys and now that they have them this is the only way."
"Guess I owe you an apology, Nog. When Leeta told me this was all for the sale of some mineral trade I couldn't-"
Garak holds up a hand and Julian steps back. He's heard enough and it's time to take action. So this is it, then. This has to be what you were sent here for, Elim. It isn't the Romulans or the Klingons, but the Federation. This is the grand maneuver they needed you to find. This Kironide. Odo said this isotope has the power to imbue a man with temporary telekinetic abilities and now it makes sense. Of course they want it, the vaunted Federation, the dirty dark secret coven that dogs the shadows that the light casts. The report has to be made, the liaison has to be arranged, but you heard it already, you'll need the other keys. You now have two, Elim, and you'll need the others. And those two are the key. Better kill them and be done with it but you can't afford to stand out. No, better the lot of them lead you to it to see for yourself what uses it has and if it comes down to it... Garak blinks his eyes open, adjusting to the light once more, seeing Julian staring at him curiously but more than that seeing a distinct pall to that usually golden hue that's only accentuated in this light. He also catches the sweat beaded on Julian's forehead an obvious byproduct of such exertion but possibly something worse. Instinctively, Garak's eyes track down to Julian's arm where there's four long scratches of red like the claws of an angry cat.
There's an unexpected lurch in the pit of his stomach as he watches fingers taking the pulse on the neck. Julian frowns but holds up a hand and Garak motions that he's going for the ladder. There's a raise of an eye ridge, a question. Can Julian climb? Or will they be forced to a reversal of positions? Garak is certain he can shoulder that weight but Julian nods with a shaky breath. It would seem there is no time to waste. The ladder will make noise of course and there is the possibility of the Ferengi employing a shoot first, ask questions later policy, but as Garak mounts the ladder, Julian's voice echoes behind him.
"Nog! It's Doctor Bashir from below! I'm with Mr. Garak, the man renting your shop, we're coming up!"
"Are you alone?!" Garak hears a voice call down as he stars the climb and cannot help but think if they truly were not alone what a fool he would be to admit otherwise. Still, Julian behind him answers in the affirmative and it is then that Garak can see that the circular metal locked into the shaft is meant to only be opened from this side. Ah, so that is why they had not shot down nor even looked to investigate.
Of course the purpose of such a labyrinthian would be defeated could the room be accessed from above, even if it was from another equally hidden room. Garak worries for just a moment at the ladder holding their combined weight but he doesn't feel even the slightest bit of bowing. Perhaps the wood used on this world is of a sturdier grade than what is on Cardassia Prime. He lets that thought trail off, for if he does that then it leaves him free to absolutely not consider the narrow tunnel around him until his hands can turn the large wheel counter clockwise presumably to unlatch the lock. Garak resists the undignified urge to throw himself and the door vertical with the promise of freedom. Especially when he considers that they're likely in yet another miserable dirt crypt. Ah, but at least it might be a slightly roomier dirty crypt, Elim.
And it is, in fact, though it is still far too cramped for Garak's comfort. It also has the strange look of some child's fantasy hideaway complete with a dim lamplight and two wooden crates on either side of a low table, a chess board in the center. He catches sight of a makeshift nest bed in the corner and a few flasks of water and what he assumes is a sack of food. That is coupled with a crude shelf with different knick knacks, books, and what he's certain is an old tooth sharpener. There is also no ladder but a grubby little vole hole going up diagonal that nearly makes him want to try and come back the way he came. Perhaps if he passes out they can tie a harness around him and pull his limp body through with him being none the wiser. Though a look to the diminutive Ferengi and the lanky Jake Sisko doesn't leave him much hope of that. Garak sighs as he pulls himself up into the room, thankful that as least he can stand on the makeshift floor of wood boards as he looks to the two young men watching warily from the far end of the room.
He catches a brief flash of metal, pleased that at least Nog had the sense to draw his pistol and not merely take him at face value. Garak wisely takes a step back, hands up as Julian practically flings himself through the opening to roll on the floor in an unceremonious heap.
"It is only the two of us," Garak says again as Jake moves to close the door. Garak catches sight of a latch, a one way, if he recalls the brief lesson O'Brien had given him on Westworld locks. Garak had wondered the practicality of a lock that one could only use to keep one side of a door, especially when it favored the party on the other side but now the highly specialized mechanism makes sense. That door won't be able to be accessed back again from this direction. "And you have my assurances, that I did not, do that." He motions to Julian, careful to keep the concern off his face as he does so. Nog nearly drops the pistol before shoving it back into the holster around his hip.
"Doctor Bashir, I-"
"The poison," Julian gasps, nearly sheet white as he grabs at Nog's arm, looking up wildly. "What is it?"
Perhaps that might not have been Garak's first question, but then again, Garak is not the one that lay dying on the floor. Nog drops to his knees in a rush, feeling Julian's head with whatever rudimentary Starfleet medical training that he might possess, going a shade more pale himself.
"O, cactus but I don't have the-" Julian cuts him off with a shake of his head as he rolls to his stomach and forces an arm underneath to give space between his face and the wooden slats. So that he doesn't asphyxiate in his own vomit most likely, Garak thinks morbidly as a spasm racks Julian's body.
"Ah... o cactus... good..." And Garak thinks that the two of them might need to have a nice long chat sometime about their mutually exclusive definitions of good as the violent heaving begins.
