Chapter Text
It all started, strangely enough, with Death.
Someone like Harry James Potter, The Man-Who-lived-Twice, who had lived an exceptionally long time and done a lot of exceptional things, was quite ready for his next great adventure in the hereafter when, out of time and out of options, he shuffled his mortal coil once again in a blaze of bright green light from the wand of an enemy and the hapless sheer dumb luck of catching his boot on a random tree root in the middle of drawing his own wand to defend himself.
However, whatever expectations Harry, now a grizzled, grey haired Auror just days from retirement, had for his second sojourn into the realm of the hereafter, a misty washed out train station for example, it was not what he got.
The Grim Reaper itself greeted Harry as they floated in a swirl of stars and the dark void of space.
Death, the ultimate entity of all Ends was highly annoyed, as evidenced by the way the personification grabbed the trembling deceased by his spiritual ear and lifted the struggling soul high up until Harry’s spiritual vision was filled with a skeletal face glaring at him with empty eye sockets.
“Do you have any idea how annoying you are? the paper work I must file, the stories I miss whenever your, unfortunately, mildly consequential soul, meanders into my notice? No! of course you don’t! because your beginnings were mortal, and your ending is immortal, a most vexing, and obnoxious combination, I doubt a thousand millennia could pass and you would never be able to grasp how truly…pesky you are in the grand scheme of it all.”
“Ow! um…sorry?” Harry had no idea what he was apologizing for exactly, he just wanted Death to let go and go about his afterlife thank you very much.
“I highly doubt that,” the reaper grumbled, and reached upwards until one of its skeletal fingers plucked one of the glowing stars, “well, no matter lets get on with it then, I got better things to do. I'm missing the latest episode of So are the Days of your Multiverse.”
“Get on with it? what? the after life? am I going to see all those who died before me that I love?” Harry said hopefully.
The entity snorted, “Hardly, that particular nugget will never be open to you, not even when we are the last things left in the entire multiverse, oh great Master of Death,” the last said sarcastically, “you are going to be foisted onto a new universe and let you be its problem so I can hopefully have a little peace.”
“Wait..what?! -ACK!”
Death unceremoniously crushed Harry’s soul into a malleable ball, then smashed it into the glowing stars around it, ignoring Harry’s shrieks as Death spread the mixture out flat, then, holding one bony finger over one nose hole, pulled out a bendy straw, shoved it in the other nose hole and snorted the entire line of interdimentional celestial matter and soul deep into its eldritch skull, then, after removing its head and giving it a brisk shake (not stirred!), Death reattached its head and hauled back, hocking a loogie, let the amalgam fly into the ether.
"Now then," Death grumbled, "Where the hells did I put that Multiversal remote?"
ooo ooo ooo
Gul Dukat was a man who moved with supreme focus. A focus in achieving his desires, personal and duty, and increasing his influence in the universe.
For the betterment of his beloved Cardassia of course.
Certainly he had his set backs, but he tended to view such occurrences as learning moments to evolve and grow and become stronger.
Yes, he may perhaps come across as egotistical for some, but Dukat tended to think of it more as exceptional self-confidence.
It was that same self-confidence that had him stand in an office that was once his own before the Bajorians had succeeded in their little rebellion, and was now presently housing a Federation officer.
While not his finest moment, having to give up Terrok Nor, now called Deep Space 9 (how unimaginative), especially with the recent development of an active and stable wormhole, but he did not let such an experience chafe at him.
If anything, the various little…visits he paid his old stomping grounds were always fascinating glimpses to him into the minds of potential enemies or allies like the Federation, and in particular, the even more fascinating man that sat at his old desk, idly tossing his…what did the human call it again? oh yes, “baseball” from hand to hand as Commander Sisko’s vibrant voice milked every emotion needed for every word that was refreshingly succinct and rife with either disdain or dark amusement, both at Dukat's expense.
As much as he detested that Traitor Tailor, he could admit over time that there really was something to his unnatural attraction to these humans (some of them anyway) in particular the good commander.
“My dear Commander, I understand your concern in finding Cardassian transmitters in various perilous sections of the station, but I can assure you that none of the Cardassian Order planted these devices onboard the station,” Dukat purred, rolling one of said devices along his scaly grey knuckles.
Sisko raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair and said with distinct dryness.
“None of your Cardassian agents did the deed I’m sure,” leaving it unsaid, but understood, that he knew very well that Dukat or someone else in the Cardassian hierarchy, could have easily had one of their non-Cardassian agents infiltrate the station and plant the devices, hidden in the hustle and bustle of a crowded and trafficked space station.
Dukat’s mouth quirked upwards slightly in a vaguely condescending smirk.
Sisko’s eyes narrowed in annoyance.
Oh yes, he was quite happy with those files on reading human expression and body language, the delight he got from what was unsaid in the species was priceless entertainment as well as Intel.
Yes, Dukat did so enjoy these little banter sessions. It was worth the slight trouble that there continued game cost him in time away from Cardassia.
Dukat stood, straightening the stiff swoop of his armored uniform, “well then Commander, I can assure you that I shall look into this matter from my end and see if I can dig up anyone who might be the root behind the transmitters. I can assure you that Cardassia in no way wishes to disturb the tenuous alliance that our two factions presently enjoy.”
“Yes, and be assured that you will be the first one to know if we find the...culprit from our end of the investigation as well Dukat."
Commander Sisko stood as well and was just about to walk the Cardassian to his ship (who was secretly pleased to have a few more minutes to enjoy ribbing the commander all the way back to the docking port) when a sudden, blinding light filled the office, and both men yelped in surprised pain as something to bright for their eyes to grasp arced through the office, then through the bodies of the two men, rendering them into a pained unconsciousness, before disappearing just as suddenly and quickly as it had arrived.
The alien light blazed through the office, the prone bodies of the two respective commanders, then blasted out of the office, slamming through various floors, walls, and more people before abruptly disappearing as suddenly as it came, leaving behind groaning bodies and the faint smell of treacle and ozone throughout the station.
Just as quickly the light and pain was gone, both commanders and everyone else within the path of the light across multiple levels awoke after only a minute, blinking in confusion, rubbing tingling extremities as all over the station the afflicted were soon converged upon by frantic medical staff and security.
A later examination in the Medbay and a scan of the station frustrated multiple departments when every piece of equipment inside and outside the station revealed nothing out of the ordinary.
Gul Dukat, with a clean bill of health from both Federation and his own ship's medics, was released the same day. With a stunning lack of...anything to explain the phenomenon, Dukat couldn't readily excuse a delay in his schedule though and soon left.
Though the incident was noted in both Federation and Cardassian files with great interest indeed.
ooo ooo ooo
Meanwhile….
In an unused docking bay, a large slick bulbous sack began to grow out of the bulkhead.
For a week, out of the way of attention or notice, as this was in part of the station that was still in a bit of disrepair but was not presently near anything vital or vitally needed, the strange reddish growth continued to enlarge, until, after a solid month of gestation, something within the strange sack began to stir.
The sides bulged and throbbed like a giant heart, beating faster and faster until, with an audible rip! a hand burst from the inside.
A glowing pink translucent material began to flow as more limbs and then a head emerged, until, with a wet flop, a slimy body emerged and fell to the floor, chest rising and falling with its first frantic gasps of life, then muttered its first words.
"Merlin's Balls!"