Chapter Text
Orange Cardassian sunshine filtered between the drawn curtains and onto the bed, the strip of it cast a hazy glow to the room, and its heat caused one occupants to hum and stretch while the other hastily pulled their legs up to avoid the warmth. The first gives a pleased, brief laugh, “You have been here for three weeks, how is the sunlight still bothering you?”
“I’m not used to it,” the second replies, still bundled very small at the top of the bed, “I was born in London and the station is always pretty chilly.”
“My dear, you do not have to remind me of how cold the station was.” Says the first as he sits up, the blanket fell to pool at his waist. He is Cardassian, with dust-colored skin, hard, armored scales and thick ridges running along most of his exposed body. He grabs the blanket and tugs it off his companion.
The other man is human, honey-colored and lithe. He scrambled for the blanket and tugged it back over his body, “Don’t do that!”
“Oh no,” the Cardassian says with false trepidation and a slight smile tugging at his lips, “I’ve upset you. However, shall I make up for it?”
The human peeked out from the top of the blanket, squinting and playing at being wary, “I think you know exactly how.”
“Ah,” the Cardassian nodded and his hand slipped under the blanket, lower than the human's chest and he had to lay down to go even lower, “Here? This pleasant little bit of human anatomy that just begs for attention every morning?”
The human hummed and crowded closer to his partner, “But not with your hand.”
“My darling! What barbarian do you take me for?” And with that the Cardassian disappeared under the blankets, the hot strip of sunlight over the blanket arched with the curve of his back and steadily bobbed until the human on the bed was whining pitifully and gripping at the blankets near the Cardassian’s head.
Later— after they had more thoroughly explored each other, and the human was pliant and sticky from what he’d asked for, and the Cardassian was grinning and smug for what he’d been asked to do— they held each other. The sun had moved causing the strip of light to climb the wall and stretch over the ceiling.
“Elim,” the human says into the neck of his partner, “I can’t believe we spent three weeks like this.”
“I fear for your memory, pet, this is hardly all we’ve done for three weeks. We’ve been to all of the museums, we attended four parties with members of my council, we have walked through the Mekar Wilderness, we—“
“Yes, yes, I know. I know that. I meant that we spent three whole weeks together like a normal married couple.” The human said.
“Oh, quite right. It has been immeasurably enjoyable,” the older man sighed, “I don’t think I’ve ever spent this much time in my bed. It’s a good thing this is only temporary or I’d lose my position as Castellan, I’m sure.”
The human sat up, “Come on then, Mr. President, let’s get up. I’ve got packing to do and I’m sure you’ve missed some urgent matter for the Union.”
**
“Their shuttle will be here momentarily,” Gul Eumet said when he entered the kitchen of the Castellan's house.
“Well when it does bring them to the door,” Castellan Elim Garak said from his breakfast table. He was done eating and had a warm glass of hevrit juice in his hand. His partner, Chief Medical Officer, Commander Julian Bashir was busy tidying up the kitchen and making tea for their guests.
“This is our first Federation contact, sir, since the True Way assassinated—“
“I am aware, Eumet, of the situation we are in,” Garak said, his eyes very wide and very much telling the young Gul to stop, “Thank you. However, this is exactly the reason I have asked Dr. Bashir to be my companion at this meeting.”
“Wonderful,” Julian said in a deadpan from behind Garak, “A marriage for political advancement. My life is a fairytale.”
Garak grinned, “All is well, Eumet, simply show the Captain and his entourage in.”
Eumet obviously didn’t think Garak had this well in hand, however, it was his role as one of the Castellan’s council to obey. Also, he firmly believed in a United Cardassia and he’d have done almost anything to stop these True Way extremists from doing any further damage to their culture. The True Way group was sinister, there were xenophobic and hostile, insisting only old families be in power and that Cardassia isolate itself and use only the resources it had to survive. Given their planets failing conditions many people knew this wasn’t feasible and would lead to their destruction. Garak, especially, believed in using resources from other species and planets to rebuild their planet.
Once the shuttle landed Eumet greeted the visiting Starfleet Captain and key members from his crew, “I am Gul Eumet,” he said, a wisp of a Cardassian compared to their Castellan, but what he lacked in size he made up for in cunning. “Our Castellan has asked me to meet you and show you to his personal residence.”
“Very well,” said the Captain, a lean, very tall man with a tone of clipped self-importance and dedication to duty. He was almost Cardassian himself, Eumet thought, “This way, Captain Picard.”
In a breakfast room on Cardassia Prime might not be the most interesting of locations for beginning peace talks, however, it had to do. War was brimming between the Federation and Cardassia and the reality was the Cardassian people were barely recovered from the Dominion. Garak had been spending a great deal of time with the Federation and their ilk, and while he didn’t always agree with their policies he knew that Cardassia would need to form powerful allies to avoid becoming isolated. Similarly, in times of strife, the Federation was a gentle opponent as they sought diplomacy over battles and tended to agree more quickly to the other parties conditions.
Garak could argue policies with the best the Federation could offer, but on this day, he would not. On this occasion, he would invite the Captain and his closest advisors to his table. Julian already agreed to make a Terran meal and was nearly done doing so. Eumet would be close by and when an agreement was managed he’d lay down the document of tenative conditions and agreements to be signed right away.
Picard sat down with Commander Riker on his left and Deanna Troi on his right and they broke bread and made pleasant small talk. Julian was very hospitable and Garak preened to have such an agreeable mate. Certainly, Julian was not always agreeable, but he was when he needed to be. He made earl grey tea for the Captain, and Betazed chocolates for the counselor, and he swapped tales of rakish nights on Risa with Riker. Garak and Picard largely watched each other until the polite chat died down and they turned to more serious matters.
Through the course of the afternoon, terms were defined and it was decided that the Castellan would accompany the Captain back to Federation headquarters and there sign a treaty of peace and trade. This was extremely dangerous because True Way operatives would no doubt be nearby; they had already killed many Cardassians and were still upset their man had lost against Garak in the election. They devised a plan to sneak Garak onto the Federation ship by beaming him directly from his home to the Enterprise. They’d also stage a falling out so the Starfleet officers could leave under threats and if anyone was watching they may think the talks failed.
It wasn’t much, but it was all they had and so they were going to give it a shot.
Everything went according to plan; they reached an agreement, signed a document detailing what the next steps would be, and had a false argument wherein Picard, Riker and Troi ran from the dwelling.
Julian pulled Garak in by the lapels of his collar and kissed him so hard the Cardassian stumbled. They dropped into a chair and Julian wouldn’t stop until Garak pulled himself away, “My dear! What’s gotten into you?”
“Just in case this doesn’t work and one of us dies,” Julian joked.
“How pessimistic. I’m almost ashamed to see I’m rubbing off on you.” Garak said, grinning, “Forgive me, I must go to the location for the beam out. Will you come as well?”
“No,” Julian said, “I’ve got to confirm my shuttle flight time tomorrow.”
“Quite right. Contact me once you’re safe aboard the station?” Garak asked.
“Absolutely,” Julian said, allowing his partner to rise and go to the bedroom.
**
“Are we ready to beam up the Castellan, Number One?” Picard asked, in one of the Enterprise's transporter rooms.
“Aye, sir,” Riker replied, having just checked and re-checked the console. Picard nodded and they engaged the transporter beam. Unfortunately, this treaty was never meant to be because, as soon as Garak dematerialized from his bedroom the transporter began beeping wildly and the energy signature was becoming weaker.
“What is happening?” Picard asked, his tone urgent as he stepped closer to the pad.
“I don’t know, sir,” said the transporter operator, “I’m losing him! His energy is being scrambled, sir—“ the beam cut out and the room was silent, “—he’s gone.”
**
Eumet was wiping the room for evidence of a beam out when what had once been Elim Garak reappeared on the floor. The proud Cardassian was now a mass of grey flesh, bones, and clothes hazardously fused together in a small pile on the floor. The thing had no mouth, no face or hands or anything humanoid. However, it had two eyes on either side of the pile, as if they had melted from his face. Those eyes, piercing, and blue, set upon Eumet with recognition. Eumet screamed and fell backward, staggering away from the creature.
Julian heard the scream, grabbed his phaser and ran up the stairs to the bedroom. He froze at the scene and his stomach lurched, fixated now on the thing. He could never explain how he knew, maybe it was the eyes, but every ounce of his body told Julian that this was Garak. Julian’s breath quickened and he fell to his knees on the ground beside it, “Elim!” he shouted, reached out, touched it— touched his husband— “Elim!”
Eumet had recovered enough to grab Julian’s medical tricorder and pushed it into his hands. Shakily, Julian scanned and confirmed it was Garak who was rapidly losing life signs. Julian had nothing that could stop the process and seconds later Garak flatlined and the eyes stopped shifting and the whole thing seemed to sink in on itself. It was dead. Garak was dead.
**
“Is this procedure safe?”
“Define safe.”
“Could it make things worse?”
“Is there anything worse than being a puddle?”
“See here, I’m just making sure he’ll have his mind intact once this is done.”
“I can promise nothing. But, it’s your only chance, isn’t it?”
“It is Cardassia’s only chance.”