Note: Uh oh, another non Garak chapter. But it's been awhile since we've looked in on our Hateful Eight and they have plenty to be hateful about. I also was pleased to have gotten to write one of the few scenes that's been i my head from the get go and that being the scene with Gul Dukat and his wife. I had to make up everything about her but the name but I enjoyed 's been weirdly fun to play with. Happy to have this out a bit early and stay tuned for a lot more craziness once our Trio hits Central. Thank you everyone for your support and encouragement and C&C is always welcome!


His look is dark as he enters the large parlor. The door closes hard behind him and seven sets of eyes turn in rapid succession. Mekor looks at them angrily, swallowing it down as he walks stilted to the open space at the low table next to Zorana. He sits down hard on the floor, the silence stretching out amongst them all, each daring the others to speak first. Nelissa looks down at him from her seat on the sofa, in uniform, watching the time almost anxiously. Tekenny smirks at him for just a moment from where he writes on the PADD. Ziyal sighs, seeing that no one is going to break that silence, and she stands from her seat on the sofa walking over to him. She kneels beside him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Mekhor-" she begins only to have him shrug that touch off irritably. They all know that he's failed. That failure is written clearly on his face. The twins both unsuccessfully hide giggles from behind their hands and Oranda snaps at the both of them to be quiet.

"If the children can't behave themselves during an adult meeting maybe they should leave." She looks up from the PADD she's reading disdainfully, sniffing with a toss of her head.

Kasella mimics her speaking loudly to Illiana.

"It's because he's a man, you know," She suggests smugly.

"A woman wouldn't fail." Illiana agrees.

"Men have no head for types of complicated things. Right Zora?" Kasella smiles sweetly, the two of them ignoring Mekor's half irritated hiss. Nelissa snorts disdainfully at the figure he presents. His shoulders are tense, eyes angrily focused on the table. Zorana pushes a tepid cup of tea in front of him.

"The success or failure of the outcome was entirely on your shoulders, Mekor, I hope you don't think that you still don't owe me for the assistance I've given you." She drinks slowly, making a few notes on her own PADD, spidery encryption forming at the conclusion of each word.

"I would prefer that we speak of the matter another time, sister."

"You might, but we all agreed to complete transparency since our last meeting." Zorana looks over to Oranda pointedly. "To avoid any further accusations of collaboration. You know what I need, Mekor. I need the names of those officials-"

"Do you have any idea what this has done to my standing? Do you realize what I had to do? What lies that I had to tell to receive cooperation from the Nyissan government? If father should ever find out-"

"Don't the Ferengi tell that you can't have big gains without big risks?" Tekenny teases him looking up from that PADD impishly.

"The Ferengi can rot with the Ancients! You don't have the burden of Father breathing down your neck!" The twins jump as he stands up and raises his voices. Ziyal steps back trying to settle him with little success. Illiana and Kasella whisper hurriedly their soft esoteric language between the two of them as Mekor advances. Tekenny doesn't move, looking up with disinterest from where he leans against the wall. Ziyal is still trying to quiet him, a hand on his arm.

"Mekor… brother, you'll never know how much I truly, deeply appreciate everything that you've sacrificed for me, please don't fight with Tekenny, you know he's just teasing you." She shoots a glare at the elder who clicks his tongue.

"He shouldn't worry about me, anyway. If mother hears your tirade brother, the Ancients will be the least of your concern."

And as soon as the words are spoken, a hush falls over the room, everyone straining as if they actually hear Athra Dukat's soft footfalls from down the hall.

"Don't be ridiculous," Oranda says, already eyeing the closet door like a naughty child looking for a place to hide. "Zorana said that mother is out and won't return until dark."

"Better the servants don't gossip either, sit down Mekor. Tekenny is right. You thought you'll kill him and you failed. Two agents are lost to the Nyissan Empire, but you know how to smooth things over, you've watched father often enough to play that diplomat's game. I need the names of those officials involved in the coup, and you don't need to know the reason why; it's a separate matter entirely."

"Strong words from the first to fail," Nelissa scoffs with a toss of her head. Zorana smiles back at her, a smile that might be considered sweet on any of her sister's faces but appears chilling on hers.

"Who says I've failed, sister? Once the snake falls from the bounty set, all victory belongs to me. Unless you think you fair any better?"

"I think," Nelissa stands with an arrogant swagger remnant of Gul Dukat himself, "that the intelligence I was able to gather will prove far more valuable than yours could ever hope to be."

"Oh?" Zorana raises a brow ridge sipping that tea serenely. "Subtlety from my elder sister, you really do cover father's favor don't you?"

"You aren't the only one with your hands in the world of espionage and lies, Zorana You don't think that the Second Order doesn't also have its ears?" She smiles nastily giving an inclination of her head to each of her siblings. "Let's not waste time today, I'm going to end this before the next new moon falls on the horizon."

"You're going to end it yourself?" Oranda laughs haughtily, tossing her hair over one shoulder looking artfully out the window. I think I'll wait right here. It won't be long before you come slithering back in disgrace and I already know exactly how I'm going to end that miserable snake. Why don't we save ourselves the time and let me go first? What do you say, dear sister, I'll even make sure that Father tosses you a few crumbs as my way of thanks."

"Say that again, vine'uja," Nelissa snarls.

"Nelissa!" Ziyal's eyes are wide at the insult. Kasella gasps and Illiana follows suit. Tekenny nearly drops the PADD while Mekor raises a brow ridge. Zorana continues to sip her tea as her long thin fingers make more notes. Oranda's face is flushed, the ridges around her eyes dark, her mouth tight and silent.

"Don't scold me, Ziyal. She should be thankful I come at her with words and not my weapon."

"You've always underestimate me, Nelissa" Oranda shoots back, finding her voice. "You and Zorana both. Lest you forget I'm also father's daughter and just as capable." Oranda smiles prettily with a toss of her long plaited hair. "But then again I wouldn't expect you to know what it's like to be either beautiful or intelligent."

"Nelissa is capable, Oranda, and a welcome sight for those in the Second Order who appreciate the beauty in strength." Tekenny holds up his hands, stepping carefully in the space between the both of them before Nelissa can advance. "But we know the Snake hasn't stayed alive all these years by luck." He looks at them pointedly. "He's done it by cunning, by calculating his enemies, by turning them against each other so that he can pick them off one by one. Now I…" He slowly floats back behind the sofa with an irreverent wave of his hand. "…can say with complete certainty that even if I present Elim Garak's-" he pauses for the angry hiss at that name- "head for Father's birthday that it won't hardly make a bit of difference as to my standing."

"There is no need to flaunt your defiance, brother, we are all well aware of it."

"Dear Mekor, I'm certain that once this settles you'll be back to your beloved boot licking in no time but as for the Snake in the present… Let's all give our beloved Nelissa her shot at glory." He presents the floor back, a lazy but dangerous look to the rest daring them to object. Ziyal breathes an audible sigh of relief. Nelissa shoots a final venomous glare at Oranda before drawing herself up.

"It will be me. Just remember that when I get back."

"Oh ho, you're going to that miserable place yourself? You really do have more guts than brains!"

"Oranda…" That warning comes from Zorana, having set her tea down looking up seriously. "What are you planning, Nelissa?"

"I'm not stupid enough to go anywhere near that black hole of a planet myself. But I won't have to." Nelissa smiles nastily. "Like I said before, you're not the only one with connections, Zorana. I have my sources in the Federation and there's talk about a half Klingon Officer taking sudden leave to chase his wife to Westworld."

That bit of information snaps Zorana from her usual indifference, her posture straightening as she makes notes furiously on the PADD.

"And the significance?"

"The word from my contact is the Klingon when he got there that his whore of a Trill wife, the infamous Dax was sleeping with a strange Cardassian man in that nowhere town where the Snake was assigned. Now who does that reminds us of?" There's a sudden disruption as Ziyal knocks over a stone sculpture with a jerk of her foot, quickly picking it up. She ducks her head embarrassed as she resets it.

"That can't possibly bother you!" Oranda exclaims loudly. Ziyal furiously shakes her head.

"No, of course not! Never! I just... I don't know I-"

"It's the nature of the heart, little sister," Tekenny interjects sagely. "Though I don't expect that a woman with your disposition would ever understand such matters."

"Fsssh! The two of you ought to dance off into the dessert with your poetry and art," Oranda sneers disdainfully.

"And leave poor mother and father in a cultural void with the lot of you? I wouldn't dream of it."

"Enough," Zorana speaks softly, making a few more notes on the PADD. "For the record I'm keeping, Nelissa, what is the proposed method of execution? It wouldn't be fair if the Snake were to break his neck riding some Westworld beast and have you claim victory."

"Like I would ever stoop to some dishonorable lie like some of you," She shoots a look to Mekor and Oranda. "It's simple. We take his woman." There's an eruption of laughter in the room, from the high pitched squeals of the twins to Tekenny's rich tenor. Ziyal as well cannot help but hide a smile and a small chuckle behind her hand at the thought of one such as the Snake ever selflessly risking his hide for something as fleeting as lover. Zorana and Nelissa are the only ones who share silence in that raucous and when the noise dies down, Illiana having fallen on the roll holding her stomach in a fit of giggles, Zorana clears her throat and speaks quietly enough that they're forced to listen.

"I told you they lacked vision, Sister," she says then appears thoughtful. "But now I know why you requested that particular compound. Take care with it; it was hard to come by and will be a waste of my resources if not properly administered." Mekor turns to look at her shrewdly, his eyes narrowing.

"So it was not just me with whom you had an agreement." He says before Nelissa can answer. He looks between the two of them. "My, sister, you had been so affronted at what you called our collusion. I am surprised to hear this."

"Be silent, Mekor. Any good general knows the value of alliances. And you let me worry about my own plans, Zorana. Two might have disgraced himself, but not for lack of skill." She refers to her second in command having dismally failed to make it in the Obsidian Order, saved from obscurity solely by his father's influence. Nelissa was insistent he serve under her. His talents in interrogation far outweigh any personality quirks; one of which is to insist that he still be called "Two".

"Of course our cunning sister wants to ensure that no matter who the victor, she also wins, isn't that right, Zorana?" Oranda looks at her with a grudging admiration. "Well I'll tell you right now, I don't want your help and I fully intend to murder the snake without help from any of you."

"If you have the chance, sister," Nelissa taunts with that proud strut. "Of course the snake isn't rescuing anyone. It's not in the plan. What is in the plan is his woman "escaping" our trap. The Trill is clever and strong and no one will question an escape if we're careful about it. But it won't just be her that will be going back to him. She'll be bringing his death with her. We'll have her stab him in the throat. Let's see that tongue of his talk his way out of that!"

"How characteristically violent of you, sister. So then I take it we're adjourned?" Tekenny moves to leave while Oranda still sulks sullenly. There's an uneasiness that hovers around Ziyal that she shakes off quickly.

"Yes, mother should still be out but we certainly don't want to risk her overhearing. We'll meet again should the snake still live but I don't imagine we'll be seeing each other again." She rises slowly, Mekor looking speculative as she does.

"And then what will Nelissa be giving you as repayment, dear sister?" Zorana glances idly at the PADD as if she had somehow forgotten such an important detail.

"The terms were quite modest really. Nothing more than a few items of medical contraband intercepted from an Orion freighter. Bio mimetic gel and some others that you'd find of little interest."

"I am sure…" he murmurs but says little else. "Then it would seem we do not have anything further to discuss. If you will excuse me, I need to return to my duties. There is a lot I need to smooth over and Father was insistent that I draft his next proposal to the Council."

"If there are no objections," Zorana looks around, a few more notes to the PADD before she blacks the screen out. "Then it's settled." She smiles at Ziyal, an expression strangely not unnatural on her usually cold face. "Rest assured, dear Ziyal, we'll destroy the Snake just yet."


They file out, one by one until the parlor is deserted. But the monitor remains, the camera carefully placed in the corner showing the entire scene as they leave. From behind the desk, Skrain Dukat looks up at his pacing wife with a proud smile.

"You see, how my children love me?" he boasts grandly, glancing once more to the empty room. "You see how they vie so passionately for my affections. Do you know, how close I came to publicly censuring Mekor for that disaster with the Nyissan government? If it weren't for your insistence on monitoring that room I might have made a grievous error." He looks up to his wife, to Athra Dukat stopped beside the desk looking at the screen darkly. Her face is plump, only showing the faintest traces of her age even as her sensual lips are pursed in disapproval. Her hair is pulled back and woven carefully back with ribbons of pastel color, a splash of pearls imported from the Federation dotting lace that blends with the few gray strands it pulls in. Her arms are crossed over her bosom, the neck of her pale mauve gown high but tight. Her figure is full, but not matronly, a generous body that he still eyes with lust even in her anger; perhaps because of it.

"I didn't tell you about my suspicions so your ego could sponge itself even larger," she chastises him severely. "I was concerned when I first caught wind of their conversation, and I was right. This is going to make a mess of their careers. They need to focus on work. Mekor nearly caused an incident with this last stunt and as far as Nelissa has risen in the Second Order…"

"My dear Athra," Dukat interjects as he rises from his seat, "you bear a mother's worries, but try to understand a Father's pride." He puts his hands on her shoulders and she pulls away irritated with a hard slap to his hands.

"Pride? I had hoped that you would have the sense to put a stop to this nonsense, but as always you can't see anything past your own nose. Our family has made a lot of sacrifices, willingly, gladly because your ambitions are for the good of all of us but this? This is ridiculous. They're convinced themselves that whoever kills that man is going to somehow curry some nebulous favor of yours at the expense of the rest. I love all of our children, Skrain. Not just those who bend the farthest to lick your boots."

"As do I, as do I," he assures her with a wave of his hand, "But your dark little world view is all that you're able to see. Didn't you tell me once that your were afraid our pure blood children would never accept a Bajoran whore's bastard? And yet you see how they come to the defense of their sister."

"There are better ways to encourage the unity of our family than this dangerous death game," she retorts, dark blue eyes narrowing. "I said to you before that you should have had that man killed the moment he betrayed Ziyal."

"You and our little Oranda, you both have such little understanding of romantic notions. You would have had me act sooner than that even. But we had to give her time, Athra. We had to wait, let her grow cold towards him and now, now you see she's just as eager as any of them to see him slain." She looks up in irritation to his satisfied smirk with a huff. But she doesn't argue the point.

"Someone is going to end up hurt. Or leaving us in a dangerous position. They're too young, they're too reckless. Look at what happened with Mekor." She takes a step back when he approaches again. "Are you going to clean up the mess he left? The Nyissan Ambassador is still demanding to know why two of their most promising operatives are dead from a training exercise- a lazy lie at that. And worse, in pursuit of a man who supposedly doesn't even exist. That was Zorana's work, you can be sure of it."

"You sound as if you don't trust me to handle the situation." Dukat is genial as he easily crosses that distance between them. But he's wary, cautious, seeing the way her hand hovers in the air. Athra Dukat has always been known to carry no less than two serrated daggers on her at any given moment and is more than capable of using them skillfully. His hand flexes absently, the scars on his forearm giving a phantom ache.

"How many times has my trust in you led to suffering for our family?" she challenges.

"No more than it has led to our success!"

He raises his voice, a fire in his eyes and his belly when their eyes meet. She wets her lips as she looks at him, nostrils flaring slightly, a darkening color to the ridges of her face. Athra can see it on his as well and there's a small smile that appears on her lips as she circles him slowly, retreating just a bit in a careful dance, an extra sway to her hips as she does.

"By the State, you find their slavish devotion arousing, don't you?"

"No more than your sharp tongue," he answers thickly, advancing cautiously. He thinks he sees a flash of silver when there's little more than a quick step between them.

"My tongue is not all that's sharp, Skrain," she warns with just a hint of deadly playfulness underlying that threat. She's subtly directed their movements so that his back is nearly to the wall. He's allowed it, waiting, anticipating, that heat between them growing until he moves first. He grabs her wrist, knowing that she'll duck under his arm and comes back around. He's able to deflect a slash to his face, a hiss escaping him as the blade still catches the back of his hand. He sees the breathless smile on her face for just a moment as he pins her to the wall, covering her back with his body

"Your tongue is not all that I find arousing," he breathes against the back of her neck feeling her shiver beneath him as the words tickle the sensitive ridges.

"And yet you've gotten not hard, but soft." She still holds the knife in her hand, knuckles against the wall. They tighten on that grip. "Ten years ago I'd have never been able to so clumsily strike you." He chuckles at that, slowly insinuating a hand between them caressing her back, hand trailing down the soft form fitting gown even lower as he cups her round bottom.

"Ten years ago you'd have gone for my kidney."

"Perhaps I was concerned you may no longer possess the reflexes to deflect a blow from behind." Dukat growls and exerts pressure on the wrist pinned behind her back slowly until she releases the knife with an angry hiss. His other hand gives a generous squeeze that makes her gasp.

"You think so little of my manhood, Athra?"

"So help me if you damage the blade-"

"Then I'll buy you a hundred new ones."

"What man sends his children to fight his battles for him?"

"A man who has bred the eight finest servants to the State that the Empire has ever seen."

"Servants to himself."

"Someday, the two shall be synonymous."

"How can a man conquer an empire when he cannot even conquer his own wife?"

"Who's to say she's not already conquered?"

Their eyes meet in a flash as he releases her arm and hikes up that dress finding her nude beneath it.

"Who's to say, she's not always ready for me at a moment's notice," he murmurs in a husky voice while his hand is quick with the button of his trousers. She smiles at him demurely, with a drop of her eyes, hands braced to that wall, one still gripping the knife hilt.

"Just remember, husband, a conquered nation will devour a despot who grows weak."

"She says as she trembles weakly, already wet from my touch."

"He says as he's already fully everted."

"Hold your tongue, Athra, or I might forget to be gentle."

"You're never gentle."

"But that's where you're wrong," he whispers as he enters her hard, rough, driving the breath from her as he does. "I'm always gentle."