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“If there is nothing further to send through, I offer that the meeting be closed.” Gul Skrain Dukat looked to each of the gathered officers at the table and those that were observing through the view screen.
It was a smaller turnout than he had been anticipating for a supply report from Cardassia Prime. As he understood it, the ships that carried resources to the Cardassian homeworld had been targeted by a group of Orion pirates and there was talk of pulling men from Bajor to chase them off their traffic lines and track where they are coming from and the exterminate the source.
But even with this, there was barely enough people present for a quorum. Skrain realized that was more than telling that something was amiss back home, but those planetside did not seem concerned at the absence of their fellows and did not offer any explanations or suspicions as to their absence.
The meeting was painfully dull the entire way through, just listing numbers, making small adjustments and accounting for stolen goods and missing soldiers. Skrain would never have thought it possible to make reports on pirate attacks as boring and mundane as the technical readouts on the fusion core, but somehow, the crew from records and intelligence had found a way.
“I have nothing further to add.” Gul Renn of Septimus III said. “I have made my requests clear and I expect only the best, as always.”
“Your faith in us is not misplaced.” Legate Kell responded, then turned his attention back to Gul Dukat. “Do have a team selected should a guard be needed for the next recourse drop.”
But before Dukat could answer, another of the representatives cut him off.
“And increase security around your channels when you are talking about the drop times!” Jagul Per’nivm spoke in his wizened old voice, broadcasting from Cardassia IV. “My great-great granddaughter could hack into your feed and she isn’t even named yet!”
Legate Kell looked expectantly at Dukat to make a comment.
“I will personally see that the communication scramblers are changed and security checks are tightened.” Dukat promised with a cold smile that told of a fast waning patience. “And, I may add, congratulations on surviving to see another generation of our household. You must be very proud.”
The old Cardassian Jagul straightened in his chair and flexed his aging scales as he did so, his head feathers fluffed contentedly. A few of the other representatives at the table also offered their congratulations, but he kept his eyes on Dukat and smiled.
“I am filled with extreme confidence in you Gul Dukat. I have nothing further to add.” Per’nivm said with a nod.
“Then let the records show this conference has been closed.” Legate Kell said, a little more crisply than he likely meant to. “Long live, Cardassia.”
“Long live, Cardassia.” The other’s at the table and over the view screens responded in unison.
The screens started flickering off as the people at the table stood to return to the work that was waiting for them. Dukat likewise stood and turned to find his second Glinn Damar standing at his side. He handed his superior officer a data padd that contained all the inquests that had come in while the meeting was crawling by.
Dukat was reading through a request from ore processing for new overhead lamps when he felt a light touch on his shoulder from Damar. He looked up, curious, and saw his second officer was staring at the view screen. He nodded and Dukat turned around and saw that Kell was still on the screen, even though everyone had left.
“Was there something else I could help you with, Legate Kell? Perhaps you have forgotten which button turns off view screen?” Dukat said, his voice completely serious. “I certainly hope that you don’t have an addendum to add, the meeting, as you may recall, has ended. I believe you were the one that ended it as a matter of fact.”
Dukat could sense Damar was growing agitated at the sass that his Gul was giving to Legate Kell, but he had clearly won over Jagul Per’nivm, the oldest and most bitter old ropes on Cardassia IV. He felt confident a little gloating was earned and his superior officer would allow it.
“Oh yes, you are very proud of yourself, Dukat. I certainly hope you not break your arm congratulating yourself over your little stunt.” Legate Kell said, his smile more a grimace.
“It is hardly a stunt to wish someone well when their family has grown.” Dukat replied, completely unflapped by the other, taking his time to stretch his own neck ridges slightly. “I suppose I am sensitive to such things, as I have a very large family.”
“Ah yes. As I understand it, your family is still growing in a rather… alarming way, isn’t it?” Legate Kell said in a low and dangerous tone.
Dukat stopped flexing instantly, all the bluster he had was ripped from him instantly, leaving him cold and nervous in the span of a moment.
“I am not sure what you are referring to, Legate Kell.” Dukat started, he kept all his movements carefully under control, even though the need to pace was gnawing at him insistently. He couldn’t show any weakness. Not in that moment. His mind raced with all possible dangers that he had noticed recently.
Ziyal…
“There is no need for feigning ignorance with me, Dukat. I think you know exactly of what I am speaking. Did you honestly think I wouldn’t be aware of things so… important to the Prefect of Bajor?” Legate Kell still smiled, like a child that had cornered a vole into a corner and was tormenting it before doing away with the pest.
Dukat couldn’t force his mind to think coherently. No words or cutting remarks came to him, his wit abandoned him when he needed it the most.
“Well, I suppose it’s none of my business to speak into the dealings of your… growing family. But there are certainly those that have an interest. Rumors are a dangerous thing in the wrong ears, don’t you agree? I would be quick to look into it if I were you. That is, of course...” Kell moved in slightly closer to the screen, his eyes were hungry, “if you are not already too late.”
And with that the video feed cut out.
Dukat was in motion instantly. Damar kept close at his side, asking a question that Dukat couldn’t hear over the roar in his ears. A roaring that was drowning out all other sounds. He could barely focus on what his body was doing.
That is, of course… if you are not already too late
When he came to his senses, he had just rounded the hall to his private quarters, Damar was still at his side as were two other attendants he hadn't realized he had collected on his way.
His eyes locked on the door and the two guards that were posted beside it. There was the familiar gangly frame of Gil Micas… but then he felt panic stab through him like a dagger, he didn’t recognize the other guard.
That is, of course… if you are not already too late
Micas saw Dukat coming and straightened and saluted with a sharp ‘sir’ that the other guard echoed.
Dukat’s focus was on the other guard completely, checking the man’s features against as many people he could remember. The other Cardassian was young, a gil. The gil’s ridges paled under the scrutiny of Dukat; the younger officers tail tucking between his legs.
“Who is this.” Dukat demanded, looking over to Micas sharply.
Micas opened and closed his mouth for a moment but no sound came out from his lips. Dukat stalked over to Micas, pulling himself up taller as he did so.
“Gil-Gil Pimir-! He-he had the proper codes. Renul- Dalin Renul, he-he gave him the codes. I-I cleared them myself!” Micas stumbled over his words, too many trying to rush out of him at once.
“Arrest him!” Dukat commanded his attendants.
“What? Why? Gul Dukat!” Gil Pimir cried as one of the men that came with Dukat grabbed hold on him.
“What is happening?” Gil Micas asked, looking more panicked by the second.
“Why didn’t you call me to confirm the guard change?” Dukat snapped at him, searching his face for any twinge of falsehood.
“I- Yes, sir! I did! I sent you a confirmation b-but you were in that meeting and Re-Dalin Renul approved it with hi-his code! I didn’t think there would be an issue, sir!” Micas continued trying to keep his words out in front of himself but he still stumbled over every other word. “What is happening?”
Dukat looked at the lock on the door, it didn't look forced, but he would have to get inside to know.
“Arrest him too.” Dukat commanded and the second guard took hold of Micas, who cried out in pain at the touch.
“Sir! I don’t understand! What is going on?” Micas called out, struggling to get out of the grasp of the guard.
Dukat however, was in no mood for such antics. The Gul swung his tail out at the younger soldier and caught him in the lower torso, right under his armour. Micas fell to his knees, completely winded from the strike, he didn’t even have the lung capacity to make any sound beyond a strangled grunt.
Both of the guards dragged off their captives. Dukat waited until they were in the turbolift before he turned to the door and started to enter in the unlock code.
"What are we arresting them for, sir?” Damar asked, his voice was low and controlled, not wanting to startle Dukat.
Dukut looked up from his work and looked blankly at his second for a moment, not seeming to understand his question.
“We have to put in the records why you had them arrested.” Damar continued, helpfully.
“Suspected theft.” Dukat answered and the door unlocked without trouble. He turned back his second, leaning in close as to prevent any hidden listeners. “Stay here, do not let anyone in or out until I tell you my code in person. Understood?”
Damar nodded in understanding and Dukat entered the quarters, the door closing behind him.
Dukat raced into the front room of the quarters, the door locking behind him. At first glance, nothing seemed to have been disturbed. All the furniture was were it was when he had left that morning, none of the strange Bajoran art pieces on the wall had fallen.
“Ziyal!” Dukat called, his tone was a strained calm, forcing his voice not to scream her name out in panic. It was possible that nothing had happened. It was possible that she was still here in the apartment. “Ziyal! Where are you?”
There was no response.
...of course… if you are not already too late
Dukat felt a flutter of panic settle into his chest, but he forced it down once more time. Perhaps she was asleep in their room? It was late enough and the child was often out of energy at all hours of the day. She must be asleep.
He raced to bedroom in a matter of seconds and opened the door. The bed was mess. Ziyal was not there.
“Ziyal!” Dukat shouted, his voice held a desperate edge that cut through the apartment like a shot. “My daughter! Where are you!? Ziyal!”
Dukat tore the sheets off the bed and lifted it, checking under for any sign of the little girl. But there was nothing but some discarded clothing of the child’s that she had hid away, not wanting to fold them or put them back where they belonged.
He set the bed back down and moved into the front room, his eyes wide and wild, taking in everything in the room all at once. There had to be something. He had to find her.
...of course… you are... too late...
“No… No! ZIYAL!!” Dukat screamed and started to pace around the room, looking around every corner. He was down on all fours, racing from place to place, all his senses working together to find any trace of the child or who had taken her.
The dining room table. He could see his beautiful and tiny child ducking under it, trying to escape the intruder, crying out for help that would not come as this shadowy stranger took her roughly by the arms and dragged her away.
The cabinet. There was a stain of red here, was it food from last night? Or blood? What did they have to eat last night? She would have fought like a wild cat against her attacker. She would have bit. Or perhaps this stranger attacked her first, striking the child down onto the floor, cutting her open with cruel talons.
The cabinet was on the ground before Dukat realized he had thrown it. Shouting wordlessly in rage to the walls.
The front room. The sofa. He could see a member of the Bajoran resistance, looking down pitiless and cruel at Ziyal, spitting on her as they packed her into one of their disgusting little holes to take her scales off one by one, changing her face to take to Bajor where he would never find her again.
The first chair. He could see Odo appearing out of one of the objects in the room, Ziyal runs into his arms willingly. The shapeshifter taking hold of her far too tightly and dragging her from the quarters. Her eyes wide with betrayal and non-understanding as someone she thought to be friend betrays her.
The second chair. He could see a Cardassian agent sent from Central Command to take her away. A phaser blast to the chest and the small, frightened, sickly child falls dead at their feet without so much as a cry.
The sitting table. He could see operatives from the obsidian order closing in on her, taking her away in tears into a cold interrogation cell. Stripping the child of her clothing, hanging her by her wrists completely exposed to the harsh overhead lights and cold Cardassian stares as their instruments of pain began to warm up.
The bookshelf. He could see Ziyal being given to Dr. Moset like a gift. He could see the man’s face light up in sick delight as he threw her down onto some filthy experimenting table and strapped her small and fragile body down.
The vase. He could see Ziyal being given to Gul Darhe’el. The sadistic slug of a man grinning in savage thrill as he grabbed the child with a greedy hunger. His hands bruising her skin. His eyes watching her cry. His laugh covering her screams.
The statue. He saw Ziyal. Huddled behind it. Trembling in fear, her wide blue eyes filled with tears. Her breath coming in fast and frightened. Alive. Safe. Hiding.
Dukat just stared at her for a moment, his mind racing to keep up with what was real. She was here? She was safe?
“D-Daddy…?” Ziyal asked, her voice hitching with fear, her lips trembling.
“Ziyal…” Dukat fell to his knees and brought his child close into an embrace. Wrapping his arms around her, pressing her into his chest so he could feel her meager warmth. She was here. She started sobbing as he held her and he felt tears on his own face. She was here. She was safe.
“Oh, Ziyal... You are safe…” Dukat said again, his voice shaking from relief and the rush of fear subsiding, leaving him feeling jittery and exhausted. He felt his arms and legs shaking as he grasped his small and fragile child closer to him. “You are safe…”
“Daddy… I’m scared… You’re scaring me…” Ziyal said, her voice still shaking.
Dukat finally pulled away from her, keeping his hands on her thin shoulders, looking over her carefully. Checking for any injuries. She was fine. Scared, upset, but uninjured.
“Ziyal… What’s happened? Why didn’t you come to me when I called you?” Dukat pressed, looking into her eyes sharply, still shaking.
“I… I wanted to play… I…” Ziyal started, then her eyes filled with tears and she let out a loud wail.
“You… you thought we were playing?” Dukat asked, his voice instantly gaining in incredulous edge, despite it’s shaking. “You thought this was a game?!”
Ziyal’s wail cut out suddenly, her eyes focusing on her father as his voice raised.
“You will never hide from me again when I call your name! Do you understand me?! When I call your name you must come to me! You know this, Ziyal!” Dukat scolded, his voice hard with an edge of panic still shaking him to his core. The relief at finding Ziyal safe, the fear of almost losing her, and his rage at finding that she disobeyed him in such a way to all combatted inside of him. He shook her by the shoulders as he spoke. “You must. Not. Hide from me. When I call you. Do you understand me?”
Ziyal gasped and cried even harder as her father shook her, no words made it out from her lips, only fearful whimpers.
“ANSWER ME, ZIYAL!!” Dukat roared at his daughter, shaking her again.
In response, Ziyal just collapsed onto the ground, slipping out from her father’s grasp. She let out another loud cry and said nothing.
Dukat sat back on his heels, his tail pressing on the ground to keep him upright. He took a shaking breath and nodded, trying to keep his thoughts in order.
“Fine. Since you have nothing to say. You will go into your room until you can think of something to say.” Dukat said, not touching Ziyal or looking directly at her.
Ziyal picked herself up off the ground and ran out of his sight. He heard the door to the bedroom close behind him and only then did he let out a sigh from his very core, his breath hitching as he did so.
He dropped onto his hands and knees and just rested like that for a moment, completely winded and emotionally drained. She was safe. All those images peeled away from his mind like so many painful bandages. Ziyal was safe.
Dukat finally stood and turned to face to room, shocked at what he saw. The room was trashed. All the furniture was toppled over, the cabinet filled with glass dishes and finery was destroyed. The vase was in a million pieces. The table was missing legs.
He only barely remembered that he toppled the cabinet, let alone everything else in the room. What a mess.
Naprem was going to be furious.
He had better try to straighten this up.
Dukat took one step and felt his leg give out, stumbling and falling on one knee again, still weak from the fear from only moments ago. There was no way he was going to be able to fix all of this in his state… He would need something to calm himself first. He headed for the lock box on the wall where the liquor was hidden and pulled out a bottle of highland Cardassian Kanar.
He would only drink enough to steady his nerves, he told himself.
“As much a this pains me to say, I cannot let you into the quarters of the prefect on his direct orders.” Glinn Damar said his voice was completely flat but there was a glimmer of humor in his eyes as he spoke.
Tora Naprem was less than amused at this statement.
“You expect me to believe that Gul Dukat gave you direct orders to keep me out of my quarters.” Tora stated, it was not a question. She folded her arms over her chest, not appreciating this sort of joke in the slightest. It had been a long and tedious day in the records office and the last thing she interested in was to be the butt of any jokes that evening.
“It wasn’t just to keep you out, as much as I am sure you would love to be considered that important.” Damar sighed dramatically. “My orders are to keep everyone out of the *prefect’s* quarters.”
“And what are you doing here, Glinn Damar?” Dalin Renul asked, his voice dark with annoyance and suspicion as he stood beside Tora Naprem. “As I understand it, Gil Micas and Gil Pimir are supposed to be on rotation at this hour.”
“Unfortunately, both of them have been arrested.”
“WHAT?” Both Tora and Renul said in unison.
“On what charges?!” Tora demanded.
“On whose authority?!” Renul demanded.
“On the prefect's authority.” Damar answered, as if it were as obvious as explaining the darkness of space. “And for suspected theft.”
“*Suspected* theft?” Renul repeated, cocking his head to the side slightly, trying to get a better grasp on what was being said. “The perfect compromised the security of his quarters because of *suspected* theft?”
“Your hearing does not fail you once again, Dalin Renul.” Damar continued, his tone warming with pleasure at their surprise. “And the quarters are not compromised, I have been here standing guard the entire time.”
“You alone?” Tora pressed, narrowing her eyes at the Cardassian.
“I suppose I am the most trustworthy at this time.” Damar continued, flexing his ridges ever so slightly.
“And you do not find that the least bit suspicious?” Renul asked, his spots darkening with worry and indignation. “The fact that he left you here, alone, and didn’t order you to inform me about this? Something is not right about this.”
"I agree.” Tora added, stepping forward towards Damar. “Gul Dukat is not one to lock our quarters against me and certainly not one to have some of his elite guard arrested without informing. Now, step aside and let me into my quarters, at once.”
“I am sure we can find you some accommodations for you in the public barracks for the time being.” Damar said, finally giving off a tight lipped grin.
The grin faded almost immediately, when Dalin Renul pulled himself up to his full height and stalked forward to glare down at the Glinn. “And I suppose you would like to explain to the Prefect that you ordered his mistress to the public housing barracks instead of contacting him to say that she was right outside.”
Damar’s tail lowered along with his head, not wanting to challenge the Dalin in this manner. He glared daggers at Tora who watched him impassively.
“I suppose I can inform him you are waiting. Stand by.” Damar muttered, then turned to speak into his wrist communicator.
Renul returned to his resting height as Damar spoke, not hearing what was said. But Tora could.
“Sir? You have someone out here who wishes to speak with you… No. It’s- It’s Tora Naprem… Yes sir, but you had said not to let anyone in or out without-... I was unaware of that... Yes, sir… understood.”
Damar turned back to face Naprem.
“Gul Dukat says that you can enter.” Damar reported, looking a little deflated.
“With your leave, Tora.” Renul started, placing a hand over his heart is salute, “I would like to look into the imprisonment of Micas and Pimir. No doubt the two of them are very confused at this moment.”
“Of course, Dalin Renul.” Tora said with a nod, her eyes still filled with concern with these unexpected bumps in her journey back to her quarters tonight. “I will also speak to Gul Dukat about the reason for this. It will be sorted. I promise you that.”
“As always, Tora, I am at your service.” Renul said, as farewell for the evening as was his custom after he walked her home. Then he turned and hurried down the hall back to the turbolift, no doubt heading to the prison to look into what exactly happened.
Damar stood to the side and Tora reached for the panel on the side of the door, it opened to her touch like always.
She froze in the doorway.
The room was in chaos.
Furniture toppled and destroyed. Broken glass on the floor. Red blood droplets standing out from the flooring like stars out the window. And there, sitting in the middle of the room, in the midst of all the destruction, was Skrain Dukat.
She took a step into the room, the door sliding shut behind her. Dukat didn’t move, as if he didn’t hear her.
Where was Ziyal?
“Skrain…?” Tora called, her tone a painting of worry, fear and confusion. “Gul Dukat. Can you hear me?”
The cardassian in the middle of the room, turned his head to the sound of her voice. He looked at her. He looked exhausted and had a strange haunted shadow to his eyes that Tora never knew to be a good sign.
“Welcome home, Naprem.” Dukat said, his voice was low, even and controlled. Too controlled.
“Where is Ziyal?” Tora asked, keeping her voice low to match his, every nerve in her body standing on a pin edge. “Where is our daughter?”
“Room.” Dukat continued, a hard edge creeping into his tone, just slightly. “She is in the room.”
Tora didn’t say another word, crossing the quarters while avoiding broken glass that had scattered from the overturned glass cabinet. She was in front of the door to the bedroom where the three of them slept and opened the door.
All of the sheets on the bed had been stripped and piled in the corner, where the small form of Ziyal was sleeping, buried under the blanket nest she had created for herself. Her small face was visible through the fabrics. Tora crossed the room to her and placed a hand on her daughter’s forehead. There was no sign of a fever.
She started to unwrap her carefully, the child grumping in her sleep at the warmth of the blankets being taking away from her, but she did not awaken. Tora took in the state of the child. She was not hurt, but she did have dried tear tracks on her face and a wetness under her head that spoke of sobbing before sleep took her.
But she wasn’t hurt.
Tora wrapped Ziyal back up in the blankets and the child purred happily in her sleep as she curled back around them. Tora felt her heart lift slightly. So nothing was wrong with her daughter… so what was wrong with her lover?
She went back out into the main room of the quarters to find Dukat had not moved. He was still staring at nothing. It was only when Tora approached him did he look up at her and speak.
“How is she?” He asked.
“She is asleep.” Tora reported, stepping carefully back over to get closer to Dukat. “It seems that she was very upset when she fell asleep.”
“Good.” Dukat said with a finality to his tone that chilled Tora’s heart.
Tora sat down in front of the Cardassian Gul, watching his face. His eyes still wandered about slightly, not wanting to focus on anything in front of him. Sitting as close as she was to him now, she could smell the sickly sweet stench on kanar on his breath.
She reached out and placed a warm hand over his cold, scaly knuckles. She could feel very small trembles and twitches. She gave the back of his hand a calming squeeze then took a deep breath:
“Tell me what’s happened, beloved.”
“I couldn’t find her…” Dukat started, slow, he spoke like someone far away. “She hid from me and… and I couldn’t find her. I had to find her. I looked all over the quarters but I couldn’t find her.”
“Is… is that what this is all about?” Tora asks, now it is her turn to have an edge to her voice as she worked to understand, her own worry and fear mixing into an exasperated and incredulous tone. “You have Micas and Pimir arrested because of some silly game you two were playing? Gil Pimir is new on this station and we are trying to keep him loyal to us. Do you remember this? What sort of rapport do you think we are going to have with him now? Not to mention poor Micas!”
“It was an unfamiliar face… There was a stranger standing in front of our doorway. I did not receive any clearance requests for the change of the guard.” Dukat defended, still not looking at Tora.
She pulled her hand away from his. Tora looked around the room again, as if lost for words. “You did all this because you didn’t recognize Gil Pimir. Someone that you approved into your personal guard rotation less than four days ago.”
“This isn’t about any guard!” Dukat snapped, showing his teeth, the spots on his neck ridges darkening from grey to black. “It’s about Ziyal.”
“Because she was hiding from you? I am sure she thought it was a game! She had been alone for most of the day! She must have been desperate for attention. She hides from you all the time. It’s one of those frightening Cardassian hunting games, but she always enjoys them. Why did this one get so rough on the house?”
“We weren’t playing, Naprem!” He finally said, his tone was hurt and angry. “I couldn’t find her and it wasn’t a game!”
“Well, did she understand that it wasn’t game this time?”
“I called her name! I called her *name,* Naprem!” Dukat said, turning his eyes to look directly at her at last. The pain and fear were clear in his eyes, his blessed cardassian eidetic memory forcing him to relive those terrifying moments again as he continued. “I called for her and I couldn’t find her. I thought someone had taken her… I was *sure* someone had taken her... I was so frightened… I called her and only silence greeted me… I thought they had taken her away…”
Tora felt a stab of agony in her own chest as Dukat’s eyes lost focus, focusing down at the floor again, his eyes flashing back and forth to images that only he could see.
Theirs was a family that liked to play games. Ziyal loved the hunting and stealth games. But it was a well established rule in the home. If mother or father call your name, the game is over and it’s time to come to them. If they call some other names, then it’s time to hide and stay far away from them. And if they call certain other names, then it’s time to go find Dalin Renul or Constable Odo to get help. But if they call her name, she must come to them.
For this exact reason.
“Legate Kell…” Dukat started again, slow at first, but then gaining speed as the words left him, “at the conference… he said something… I was so sure he was talking about Ziyal I just… Something that I needed to look into… that I was too late. Then I didn’t see Zavat like was on the schedule. Micas offered no real explanation. And when I came inside and I couldn’t…”
He stopped and a dark chuckle tore it’s way out from deep in his chest. A laugh that raised all manner of alarm bells in Tora’s mind.
“The things the mind invents… A disciplined Cardassian mind… folded like paper dolls the moment panic sets in. I thought-”
Tora placed her hands on either side of Dukat’s face, her fingers easily fitting between the ridges on his cheeks, gently guiding his head to look up and his eyes found hers again and she held them strong, focused, cementing him in the present with her.
“Ziyal is safe. Nothing bad happened to her. You don’t need to let your mind wander to anything other than what is. Ziyal is safe.” Tora said, her tone was firm and warm, inviting him to accept her words and let go of whatever dark thoughts had crept in. “You found her. You found your daughter. You found her here. In our home. Nothing happened to her.”
Dukat let out a long sigh, closing his eyes peacefully. He reached up and cupped the back of her hands resting on his face. When he opened his eyes again, there was clarity and a loving smile where strain and fear were before.
“Ziyal is safe.” Dukat agreed, then pulled Tora into his lap as he embraced her, pressing his forehead into hers. “She is safe. And grounded for as long as Terok Nor stays in the sky.”
Tora laughed out loud, pressing hard into spoon ridge on his forehead causing him to pull back. His lips met hers in a kiss.