Chapter 9

Revelations

Garak was doing his laundry to kill some time. He was carefully pressing each of his suits. The repetitious action was soothing after the stressful morning.

With his position on the Council, he could afford a laundry service, but he felt that they could never live up to his exacting standards, so to avoid any unnecessary headaches, he opted to do it himself.

He sighed in satisfaction as he hung the last suit in place in his closet. He admired his suits in a row, sorted by colour hue, each precisely pressed to enhance each line. He wouldn't admit this to anyone, except maybe Julian, but sometimes he missed being a humble tailor. There were parts of the job that were tedious, having to deal with tiresome customers for one. But he had enjoyed constructing clothes for his customers.

He sighed, closing the closet door, his hand lingering on the warm wood. It was a comforting, tactile connection to something familiar, something simple. With a soft push, he turned away from the closet and crossed the room.

The need to do his laundry, to busy his hands, stemmed from more than just habit. He needed the distraction after the intense conversation with Julian. Julian had asked for time to think, to clear his head, and Garak had simply nodded. But the look on Julian's face—such raw, visceral pain at the thought of betrayal by one of his own—had lingered in Garak's mind.

He sank down on his neatly made bed, not caring that he was disturbing the smooth surface of the grey-striped blanket. What could Julian have done to warrant such attention from his own people? The very idea horrified Julian, as if it defied everything he believed about his kind. But maybe the initial harassment had been mere pranks, deescalating only after the death of Julian's patients.

Had they stopped out of fear?

Garak shook his head, trying to make sense of it all. He knew Julian's people only through the man himself, a sample size of one, and even then, he didn't really know the whole of him. On Deep Space Nine, Julian had often displayed an alarming naivety, yet Garak was never sure how much of that was genuine and how much was a façade.

He stood, straightening the room as he did so, moving a finished book from beneath his pillow to its place in the small bookcase he kept. The silence of the house pressed in around him, and he paused, absorbing it.

Garak's own society was a martial one, a people proud of their fighting prowess. Yet there was still politicking. It might be highly unusual for a lower ranked Cardassian to betray their own unit or command. But it was pretty much expected that anyone outside of your own cabal was fair game.

Garak could not imagine a people so different from his own, he shook his head, as if trying to bring clarity to his thoughts.

It was a peculiar feeling, that a friend held so dearly could simultaneously be a stranger. These last few days with his doctor showed him how much Julian had kept hidden.

What if Julian was telling the truth? A species so harmonious that it was unthinkable for anyone to act against their own. The idea was both fascinating and unsettling. What kind of power and control must their leadership wield to maintain such unity? Julian had mentioned they were genetically engineered soldiers, was that the key? Garak shivered involuntarily at the thought of what such an army could achieve.

Another sigh escaped him. He felt the need to do something, to expel the restless energy coursing through him.

For a moment he contemplated cleaning Asha's room. He shook his head ruefully; he wasn't that desperate.

Garak glanced out the window. The dust levels looked low. Perhaps some pruning in the garden would suffice while he waited for Julian to return. The thought of tending to something living, something that required careful attention, appealed to him. It was a small comfort, but for now, it would have to do.

Julian returned to the house to find Garak in his walled garden, pruning shrubs with deft precision. The bright orange gloves he wore were a stark contrast to the subdued colours he typically preferred.

For a moment, Julian stood still, taking in the domesticity of the tableau. The sight of Garak tending to his garden was a reminder of the complex man before him—a man who could switch from a tailor's delicacy to a spymaster's cunning in an instant.

Earlier, Julian had contacted his Prime, who also happened to be his father. Though Julian wasn't the Prime's only child—in fact, all of his lineage were the Prime's descendants—he held the distinction of being one of his father's oldest surviving children. As power among their kind was determined by both age and genetic proximity to the Prime, this resulted in Julian being on equal footing with nearly all of his older, less connected relatives.

What made Julian unique was his close relationship with his father, a rarity in their society. Most children were either left with their mortal mothers or fostered, leading to a brotherhood forged by their quasi-militaristic structure.

Ben, his father, had been particularly concerned to hear about the troubles Julian was facing, especially the tampering with his Starfleet computer that had led to the deaths of Julian's crew. This posed a grave danger to their people; if the Federation discovered the truth, they could rightfully demand retribution. Ben hadn't been this angry since the Khan debacle. For centuries, he and John had worked to keep their people in the background, away from the Federation's scrutiny. This incident threatened to undo all that progress, especially now, at such a pivotal time, with the treaty just signed with the Bajorans.

Ben had extended the full resources of their people to Julian, determined to track down the perpetrator. If the Federation discovered the murders, they would need to prove that they were capable of policing their own society. Ben had also given Julian the discretion to involve Garak, officially sanctioning his assistance.

"Garak," Julian said softly, though he knew the Cardassian had already sensed his presence.

Garak turned and smiled warmly.

Julian held up the string bag he was carrying, which contained a carafe of cool fruit juice. "Shall we go inside, old friend?" he suggested.

Nodding, Garak pulled off his gloves and stored them along with his pruning shears in a garden bin. Without a word, he led the way back into the house. He went to the cabinet, retrieved two matching tumblers, and placed them on the dining room table.

Julian uncorked the carafe with a soft pop and poured the juice into the tumblers, pushing one toward Garak before calmly sitting at the table.

"I spoke to my Prime about the stalking," Julian began without preamble, taking a sip of his juice. The sharp cool liquid stung his tongue pleasantly. He couldn't help but smile at the look of confusion on Garak's face.

"How did you access off-planet communication? Access is strictly controlled," Garak said, his eye ridges flexing into a frown.

Julian didn't answer directly, a hint of a smug smile playing on his lips. "Ben, my Prime, has given me permission to officially bring you onto the case."

"Just like that?" Garak queried, surprised at the rapid change in attitude. Julian had been genuinely distressed at the thought of one of his own people betraying him. Now he was taking it in stride, acting decisively.

Julian nodded, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "I want to thank you. You pointed out the obvious to me—I hadn't considered that the station might have been infiltrated by one of my own people." He sighed, his fingers drumming on the table. "If I'd realised that from the beginning, there were markers I could have looked for." Julian shook his head, trying to let go of his earlier oversight.

"Markers?" Garak asked, his eyes narrowing with curiosity.

Julian grinned mischievously. "Let's just say we have a way to mark where we've been."

Garak huffed but didn't press further.

"I think you should ask Kelas here before I explain further," Julian said.

Garak looked startled. "I can certainly ask Kelas to come, but why?"

"I need his expertise on Cardassian physiology," Julian replied, smiling enigmatically.

Some of the humour drained from Julian's face as his expression grew more serious. "I'll have to call Nerys and explain that we need access to the station," he said, sighing as he massaged his temples.

Julian wasn't sure how he felt about talking to Nerys. Ben had confirmed that she was one of the few Bajorans who had been given the list of those granted diplomatic immunity due to their roles in his society. She must have seen his name on the list by now.

"Do you want me to arrange that call?" Garak offered.

"If you could. She doesn't have my key yet," Julian replied.

Garak ignored Julian's mention of another foreign term, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of asking about it. He retreated to his study to call Kelas and put in a request to speak with Major Kira, who was officially on leave and might not return his call immediately.

As he waited, Garak pondered Julian's sudden change in mood. It seemed Julian was more mercurial than Garak had ever suspected. There had always been a teasing quality between them on the station, and it was still present now, but there was also an unknown element to their interactions that made Garak wonder.

Only time would tell how their relationship would evolve.

A Call to Nerys

Nerys tapped her finger on her desk, pondering the message from Garak indicating that Julian needed to speak to her. Her pulse quickened at the thought. She wondered if this was an official call as a Child of the Prophets—the first official contact she would have with these mysterious people—and it was going to be with Julian.

Her screen lazily displayed the rotating symbol of the station. She felt unexpectedly nervous about this call. It had only been a little over a week since she had seen her old friend here on the station. Now, she felt all twisted and muddled when she thought of Julian. Was that even his real name? She wondered morosely.

It was midnight local time, and she had left Ezri down on the planet, completely unaware of this clandestine call she was working herself up to make. Would she be allowed to tell Ezri about this new development in her relationship with Julian? She knew her government wasn't going to say anything official to the Federation, not until they were asked. As far as the government was concerned, they were friends of the Federation and would only spell out the fact that they were not going to join the Federation when asked directly—especially now.

Nerys had heard rumours about the sort of undefined abilities the "Children of the Prophets" had, abilities that would help protect Bajor from outside invaders. She knew they were originally designed as genetically engineered soldiers. But she had observed Julian during the war and wasn't impressed. The Doctor had refused to use any energy weapon, claiming it was against his religion.

She wasn't quite sure how they were going to help protect the planet if they wouldn't use any energy weapons to do so.

She sighed. She was happy, truly she was, that the Prophets had reached out to the people of Bajor to perform this sacred duty and provide a home to the Prophets' long-lost children. But it was different now that the situation impinged on her personally.

Finally, she steeled herself to make the call. She reached out and activated her screen and keyed in the sequence to reach Garak's personal screen.

They must have been waiting for her call as they answered almost immediately. Garak's grainy image appeared on the screen before her, he looked serious.

"Major, thank you for taking the time to call. Julian needs to speak to you about..." Here Garak fidgeted, lips quirked, eyes bemused. "About an important erm, 'Children of the Prophets'." Garak looked to the side. "Mission!"

"Mission!" Nerys was curious now. It had only been a week since the announcement to the wider Galaxy about the new treaty. How could Julian possibly be involved in a mission that seemed to include Garak and herself.

"Well put Julian on," Nerys said gruffly, her deeply practical personality coming to the fore.

Julian's face appeared before her, Nerys frowned and moved back from the screen and tilted her head. Something had changed. The picture quality from Cardassia had not yet improved to the same standard as before the war. "Did you change your hair?" Nerys said, the puzzlement clear in her voice.

Julian grinned. "I have returned to my natural appearance," he said in reply.

'His natural appearance had curly hair?' Nerys thought. She shook the distracting thought from her head. She needed to concentrate.

Julian's own demeanour morphed to something more serious. "I know now that you know I am one of the Children of the Prophets. You may have even surmised that I was sent to Bajor to assess the situation and report back to the Primes."

Nerys, lips pursed, nodded.

"I was an agent for my people, after the war I was sent on a new mission to observe the Federation, to listen for any evidence that the Federation knew about the nascent treaty between my people and yours," Julian said.

Nerys's pulse sped up at the confirmation of her supposition on Julian's reason for being on Deep Space Nine. Her guts twisted as she retained her calm exterior. She didn't know what to think about this admission from Julian. Nerys felt her throat tighten, a mix of anger and sadness churning in her stomach. How much of their friendship had been real? Could she trust anything Julian had said to her in the past?

"I want you to know that I had a lot of discretion in how I conducted my mission. That any relationships I formed, from my side were genuine. Though due to the situation not as open as I may have wished." Julian gazed out of the screen sincerely, seemingly to have read her very thoughts. "That I did and do now consider you a dear friend."

Nerys swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. "Okay," she said before clearing her throat. "What is this mission Garak was referring to?" Nerys said, she realised her voice held an under tone of anger. She couldn't help the sting of betrayal she felt. She couldn't trust Julian's words yet.

Julian nodded and allowed Nerys's justified anger to linger between them. She was a woman who had been many things over her life and knew that sometimes, circumstances made it impossible to tell the whole truth to your compatriots.

"I don't know if Odo ever mentioned this, but when you were off station on Cardassia, I began to be stalked. My quarters were broken into, my computer system was hacked, that sort of thing," Julian said getting down to business.

Nerys frowned; she didn't remember any of this.

"Both Miles and Odo looked into this for me, but we were unable to track down the perpetrator." Julian sighed, an annoyed scowl on his face.

"The stalking escalated to the point in framing me for breaking into Ezri's files," Julian said while he watched Nerys's face carefully.

Nerys said a silent 'oh!' she had always thought that incident was out of character for Julian. "Go on."

"Shortly after the incident with the files, I was moved off station and given a new mission by the Primes. It was here I made a fatal mistake." Julian scrubbed his face with his hands as he prepared to reveal the next part of his history.

"I should have reported the harassment to Starfleet. But I couldn't—doing so would have exposed my true identity. By the time I realised the extent of the threat, it was too late. My reputation was ruined, and I had no defence without revealing everything."

Nerys was stunned. She rocked back in her chair and turned slightly to look at the star scape beyond her window. Mulling over the information Julian had just given her and her own knowledge of the past eight years. She could hear her blood pump through her head as a terrible thought occurred to her. She was starting to see why Julian might have called her. But she wanted Julian to say the words before she said anything. Turning back to the screen and Julian, she gravely told him to continue.

Julian's face twisted with suppressed rage as he continued. "As you might have guessed, the harassment continued until the USS Okanogan. They hacked my computer, indirectly resulting in the death of 87 of my crew," Julian bit out, his nostrils flared as he breathed heavily through his anger.

"Due to the ongoing negotiations between my people and yours, I needed to maintain my cover." Julian grimaced. "I alone was conducting the investigation into the stalking. It has recently been brought to my attention that I was operating under a misapprehension that my assailant was an alien," Julian said, tension in his jaw obvious.

"But now?" Nerys prompted.

Julian's expression grew sombre as he leaned closer to the screen. "Nerys, at first, I believed the stalker was an outsider, possibly a rival faction. But now... I've come to realise the threat is likely from one of my own people."

"Because of this misjudgement, I never searched the station for signs that one of my own people had been there," Julian confessed.

Nerys looked confused. "It seems to me that you are implying that there will still be evidence on board the station even after eight years," she said in disbelief.

Julian rubbed the back of his neck, unwilling to explain fully over Garak's link to the station. "Let's just say I can tell if any of my kind have been on the station and I will explain fully in person," Julian said authoritatively.

Nerys leant back in her chair and puffed out air. She can see why Julian needs to track down this stalker. 'The Prophets, 87 people dead!' she thought. She knew in the treaty that the Primes insisted that they would deal with any criminal behaviour from their own people with a Bajoran observer to ensure justice was served. This was obviously to be her role.

She also realised that Julian wasn't being too specific because he didn't trust the communications link to be secure. He probably had a point, she didn't trust the Federation not to monitor the stations communications, no matter how much they extol the principle of privacy for their citizens. Then that was the point, the Bajoran's weren't Federation citizens.

"When will you arrive on the station?" Nerys said, running her schedule through her head. Everyone knew she and Julian were friends, so it wouldn't be that unexpected that she would spend time with the man. Though she did expand a great deal of effort getting him off station only last week.

Nerys sighed, her strong fingers massaging her temples.

"Twelve hundred hours," Julian sad succinctly.

"Tomorrow afternoon!" Nerys raised eyebrows was enough to show her surprise. He and Garak must be beaming to a government courier as soon as this call was over.

Julian just nodded with a smirk.

Nerys narrowed her eyes at her old friend and wondered what he was up to.

"See you tomorrow, Nerys," Julian gave a jaunty salute before disconnecting the call.

Nerys blinked in surprise at the abruptly empty screen.

'Damn it, she didn't get the chance to ask about Ezri,' Nerys thought annoyed. She found herself staring at her reflection, Julian's words echoing in her mind. Could she trust this new version of Julian? She scrubbed her eyes trying to dispel her sudden bone weariness. For now, she had a mission of her own to complete.

Nerys looked out into Ops from her desk chair, the glass wall a sufficient sound barrier that the normal bustle of operations didn't reach her. She sighed, it was late, there was no point in getting a shuttle back down to the planet, she would be better off sleeping in her own quarters and comming Ezri in the morning.

Nerys knew she would have to tell Ezri something, but what? How much of this was even hers to share? The weight of the secret pressed heavily on her, and she realised she wasn't just keeping it from the Federation, but from the people she cared about most.

She would just have to come up with an excuse as to why she was back on the station when she was meant to be on the planet celebrating the national holiday. She would tell her a limited version of the truth. 'That she had to return to the station to deal with a diplomatic incident.'

Rubbing her brow in tiredness Nerys leant forward and deactivated her terminal before rising from her seat. She stood and stretched her back before exiting the office.

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