Chapter Text
"To save a man and thereby to spare a father's agony and a mother's feelings is not to do a noble deed, it is but an act of humanity." ― Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo
***
Garak was kneeling in his garden, in the recently decontaminated dirt, under the Cardassian sun. Many would have called the sun’s rays harsh, but he did not; after years and years on a space station, overly bright and yet much too cold, the warmth of the sun’s rays were a reassurance that he was home at last.
This land around Tain’s house would be given over to the public, he had already decided. There would be a memorial garden and a community garden, open to all. He and Lang and Ghemor were trying to identify other parcels of land in the city that could be made similarly available. Garak had been appointed –– or had possibly appointed himself, even he was not sure –– something of a head gardener for all of Kardassi’or.
It was straightforward work that would benefit of his fellow citizens. It was not apolitical, but it kept him away from the electoral side of politics, for which it was generally agreed he was, if not ill-suited, then badly positioned. He didn’t resent the distance. He was glad to have his hands in Cardassia’s soil again. It kept him from thinking about other things, people left behind and letters left unanswered.
The sound of a shuttle passing overhead was an unwelcome intrusion. Garak stood up, shielding his eyes against the weak light of the sun. It was a Federation runabout, he could tell from here –– not unusual on Cardassia these days, but atypical to see in this part of the city. It landed on the empty lot across the street, where a demolished house had recently been cleared away.
For a moment, Garak’s heart leapt. He imagined a tall, thin figure emerging, perhaps dressed in Starfleet Medical gray and blue, or perhaps wearing civilian clothing. He imagined him saying, I got your letter, and I couldn’t stay away any longer. Did you mean what you said?
The door opened. The figure that emerged was short and clad in the red of the Bajoran militia, with a bag slung across her shoulder. Garak wiped his hands on a towel and went to meet the Colonel halfway.
“Colonel Kira,” he said, customer service smile in place. It felt... tight, these days, like a pair of trousers that no longer fit. “This is an unexpected surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Kira didn’t return his smile. “We need to talk, Garak. It’s about Julian.”
Her tone was... strange. Garak doubted, somehow, that she would have come all this way to a planet she despised to deliver good news. “I haven’t heard from Doctor Bashir in some months,” Garak said, with perfect honesty.
“I know.” She glanced away, seeming almost discomfited. “In retrospect, I should have written to you immediately. But there didn’t seem like there was anything you could do, and I know you’ve had your hands full. I don’t think any of us recognized the danger he was in until it was too late.”
“I see.” Garak forced himself to ask the obvious question, and to keep his voice as even as possible when he did. “Is he dead?”
Kira hesitated. “We don’t think so,” she finally said.
Garak nodded. He didn’t allow himself to relax; that was far from a definitive no, and the implications were that there was a lot of work to be done. “You’d better come in. I will make us a pot of red leaf tea.”
Inside the shed, it was even dimmer. He lit one of his solar powered lanterns and hung it overhead, so that it threw its light over the whole of the small space. Kira took a seat at the small table and watched as Garak went about making the tea with leaves plucked from his redleaf plant in its pot. He’d had it sent from the station along with a handful of other personal items. Julian had made those arrangements months ago, before he had stopped writing.
Garak had assumed that he’d simply grown too busy to bother writing to an old friend whose life no longer had any connection to his own. He’d assumed that he had always cared about their relationship more than Julian had, and it was only natural for it to peter out now. He had been determined not to make a pest of himself or beg for scraps of attention or affection. He had written only one extra letter, and when that, too, went unanswered, had tried to make peace with the situation. Now, it seemed, all of those assumptions might have been wrong.
“Begin at the beginning, if you please, Colonel,” Garak said, once they were both seated with cups of tea steaming in front of them.
Kira took a deep breath. “You know that Section 31 tried to recruit Julian during the war?”
Garak dipped his chin. “A foolish endeavor doomed to fail.” The two of them hadn’t made a habit of staying over in each other’s quarters, but Julian had slept at Garak’s for days after their first attempt, slipping into his bed well after 2600 and out by 0600. By the second attempt, Garak had no longer been spending enough time with Julian to know how it had affected him.
Kira sighed. “What you might not know is that toward the end of the war, to try and save Odo, Julian... well, he pretended he had found a cure to the Founders’ disease and lured Sloan, the agent who’d tried to recruit him, to the station. We were on Cardassia by then –– I didn’t find out any of this until later. He and O’Brien used a Romulan mind probe to extract information about a cure for the Founders’ disease from Sloan, who killed himself afterward.”
“Goodness,” Garak said, impressed despite himself. “I had no idea that either Doctor Bashir or the Chief had it in him.”
“I don’t think Julian did, either,” Kira said. “I know it weighed on him afterward. He felt like the war had changed him in ways that he didn't much like.”
That much, Garak knew. He had suspected that Julian’s drift away from him and, eventually, toward Lieutenant Dax had been in part a desire for someone less morally complicated, who didn’t make him question himself.
“I don’t know if Julian thought they would come after him for it or not,” Kira went on. “We didn’t talk about it much. But about seven months ago, I got woken up in the middle of the night by our new head of security, who told me that an admiral and two Federation security officers had arrived and were arresting Doctor Bashir. They dragged him out of bed, put him in handcuffs, and marched him down the promenade in front of everyone. They were going to put him straight onto a shuttle, but I managed to catch up with them at the airlock and demanded to see their orders.”
“I’m sure they were in perfect order.”
“They were. There was nothing I could do. Julian asked me to contact Miles and let him know what was happening. And then he was gone.” Kira shook her head, her mouth in a thin, furious line. “I should have written to you right then. But communications to Cardassia were so uncertain, and I didn’t know... well, I didn’t know how the two of you had left things.”
Garak replied cautiously. “I consider Doctor Bashir to be a very good friend.”
Kira looked deeply skeptical. “All right, if that’s how you want to play it. In any case, I did what Julian asked and contacted Miles. For a while it seemed... well, it didn’t seem too bad. He was in prison on Earth, but he was writing to Miles every week. Miles couldn’t get permission to see him, but he’d found a lawyer who was willing to take the case, and the lawyer was able to see him. We were all hopeful that the lawyer might be able to get him out –– he’d lose his commission and probably his medical license, but at least he’d be free.”
Garak poured her more tea. “And then what happened?”
Kira shook her head, straightening out of her slump with a sharp breath. “The letters stopped. Around the same time, the lawyer informed Miles he couldn’t take the case after all. Wouldn’t say why, just told him he couldn’t and stopped returning his comm messages. So Miles went to the prison to try and get some answers and was told that Julian had been transferred.”
“To where?”
“No one will tell us,” Kira said, meeting his eyes for the first time in several minutes. “It’s like he’s just... disappeared. And that was when I decided to come and find you, because we both know what it means when someone disappears like that.”
“I see,” Garak said, even as his mind began racing. “And his parents?”
“His father tried to cause a fuss, claiming that he’d served his own prison term, and there was no need for any of this. The lawyer got him to shut up, because it wasn’t doing Julian’s case any good. I don’t know about his mother.”
“But Section 31 hasn’t come after them?”
“Not that I know of.” Kira turned her teacup around in her hands. “The thing is, there’s only so much Miles can do. He’s implicated in the stuff with Sloan, too, and he’s got young children. He’s worried that if he pushes too far, they’ll retaliate.”
“As he should be,” Garak said. “No, this is well outside of Chief O’Brien’s skillset.”
“But not yours,” Kira pointed out, rather unnecessarily.
“No,” Garak agreed.
Several seconds passed in silence. Garak stared out the window at his garden. He had hoped to be here in the rainy season, to see it bloom. Perhaps he would be back by then. Perhaps.
“I know that it’s asking a lot,” Kira said at last. “But if you ever cared about Julian ––”
“Of course I care about Julian,” Garak snapped, too offended to dissemble. “That isn’t in question here.”
“He wouldn’t hesitate if it was you who was missing,” Kira told him. “Not for a moment.”
“I’m not hesitating.”
“Yes, you are, I can see it.” Kira set down her tea cup with some force. “You got what you wanted, didn’t you? You’re back on Cardassia and you don’t care that someone you knew in your exile is in trouble.”
“Colonel,” Garak said sharply, “I realize this is all extremely upsetting, but I assure you, I am not hesitating. I am merely considering the best course of action.”
Kira crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him. “How are you so calm?”
“Would you rather I dissolved into hysterics? How, exactly, would that help Julian?”
“It wouldn’t, but... how are you not going crazy, imagining what might be happening to him?” Kira asked, leaning forward. “Come on, Garak, I know what the two of you were to each other. Everyone knew by the end.”
“By the end, we were friends, and nothing more,” Garak replied. “I wasn’t what he needed in wartime, or after. Speaking of which, where is Lieutenant Dax in all of this?”
Kira shook her head, rubbing her eyes. “They lasted about two months. Less than, I believe. She’s on Trill now, getting some of the training she didn’t have before receiving the Dax symbiont. We’re trying to keep her out of it.” She sighed. “I don’t know if it will help or hurt for you to know this, but after Dax left and it was just me and him on the station... he used to talk to me about you sometimes. He missed you terribly. He thought about getting on a shuttle and coming to Cardassia, but he didn’t know if you’d be glad to see him.”
“Foolish boy,” Garak said, closing his eyes. “Of course I would have been glad to see him.” And they might all have been better off if Julian had done just that, Garak thought regretfully. He opened his eyes and sat up straight. “In truth, it doesn’t matter what is left between him and me. You needn’t be so persuasive, Colonel. I will help. But I need some time to formulate a plan and speak with some colleagues.”
“How much time?” Kira asked. “It’s already been too long since anyone heard from him.”
“Two days,” Garak said. “Possibly less. And if you have information –– records or correspondence, the names of the people involved –– any of that would be useful.”
She nodded and pulled a PADD out of her bag. “It’s all on here. And you can use the computer on the runabout.”
“Thank you,” Garak said, accepting the PADD, “but I think it would be best if I used the computers at the Ministry. We wouldn’t want the Federation to track our efforts.”
“Right, of course.” Kira looked down at her teacup. “I’m sorry I accused you of hesitating. I should have known better. This has just been...” She shook her head, looking away. “I thought I was done with this sort of thing. The Federation is supposed to be better than this.”
Garak put his hand over hers, and not only for her own comfort. Outwardly, he was calm, but inwardly... Kira was right. He could imagine in much too vivid detail what might be happening to Julian even as they spoke. That was what made disappearances so effective. Executions could be tools of terror, of course, but it was the uncertainty of a disappearance, the not knowing that drove people mad. Garak had never been on this side of it. Perhaps this was cosmic retribution for him ever having been on the other.
“The Federation regards genetically augmented individuals as an existential threat,” Garak said. “No state that I have ever encountered, including the Federation, has hesitated to act with violence toward existential threats. It always struck me as... unlikely that Julian was not only allowed to walk free, but also to retain his commission and his medical license after his augmentations were discovered.”
Kira looked up at him. “You think...”
Garak inclined his head. “It’s a possibility. They hoped he would be useful. But not only wasn’t he useful, he turned against them. They couldn’t let that stand.”
“I should have protected him. Ben would have.”
“And I should have done more to convince him to come here. It was shortsighted of me not to.”
Kira shot him an incredulous look. “If I’m not to blame, you’re definitely not.”
Garak gave her a small, bitterly rueful smile. “As you said –– you expected the Federation to be better. I did not. I should have seen this coming. I would have, if I hadn’t been so... distracted.” Or if they had been closer at the end of the war. It hadn’t occurred to him as a possibility, and even if it had, he wasn’t sure he’d have dared to suggest it.
“Distracted,” Kira repeated. “Is that what you’re calling rebuilding your entire planet from rubble? No, no, no.” She shot to her feet and paced the length of the shed. “No, we’re not going to sit here, blaming ourselves. That’s the last thing Julian would want. We know who’s responsible for this.” She stopped and squared her shoulders, drawing a deep breath. “Two days?”
“Two days,” Garak agreed. “In the meantime, go back to DS9 and wait to hear from me. I will send you a message to let you know if I need transport.”
Kira crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m coming with you. No, shut up for once in your life,” she added sharply. “Julian’s in trouble because he saved Odo. I’ve got months of leave saved up. I’m damn well coming with you, whatever it is you’re planning.”
There was no point arguing with her about it, Garak decided. It would be foolish for him to refuse such a valuable asset in any case. “Very well.”
Kira nodded, her eyes hardening. There was a determined set to her jaw that suited her far better than helplessness ever would. Section 31 wanted them to feel helpless; they wanted them to feel as though there was nothing they could do. Perhaps if the two of them had been of the Federation, they might have. But Section 31 had not counted on Julian’s non-Federation allies. Kira Nerys had faced down the monsters in the dark from a very young age, and Garak... well, Garak had been the monster in the dark.
Kira left. Garak stood in his garden, watching as her runabout took off, then went back inside to seat himself at his small table with the rest of his tea and the PADD she had given him. He had a long night ahead of him.
***
Dawn found Garak cooling his heels outside Acting Castellan Natima Lang’s office in what had once been Dominion HQ. Cardassia’s provisional government had taken it over because it was one of the few government buildings in the city left unscathed by the final assault. It was early enough that her assistant was not yet in, but Garak knew that Lang was an early riser who liked to get an hour or two of work in before anyone else arrived.
Garak was running on two hours of sleep. He had been up late planning, and then the moment he lay down, all the thoughts he’d been keeping at bay swarmed in. When he’d finally fallen into a restless sleep, he dreamed of the worst interrogations of his career, the ones he’d muscled grimly through even at the time, only now the prisoners all wore Julian’s face. He’d woken in the early hours, shaking with adrenaline, and could not remain in bed any longer.
“Garak,” Lang said with some surprise when she rounded the corner. She had in her hand a cup of raktajino, which had become something of a fad, thanks to the Federation aid workers. “Did we have an early appointment?”
“No,” Garak said, standing. “But a situation has arisen and I was hoping we could speak.”
“Of course,” Lang said. She opened her office and gestured him inside, then took a seat behind her desk. “What’s this about, Garak?”
Garak swallowed. He had spent a good deal of time considering what he should and should not share with her. In the end, he had come to the rather distasteful conclusion that he must tell her everything. Anything less would be forcing her to make decisions –– decisions that affected not only him but potentially all of Cardassia –– from incomplete data. There was a risk that she would give him an answer he did not want to hear, but he would deal with that if it happened.
“Castellan, you know that my relationship with the truth is, you might say, fluid,” Garak said. “But time is of the essence, and after all we have been through, you deserve as much truth as I can give you, to do with as you will. A dear friend of mine, Doctor Julian Bashir, has disappeared. You may remember him. We were eating lunch together in Quark’s the first time you and I ever laid eyes on each other.”
“I do remember him,” Lang said. “DS9’s CMO, isn’t he?”
“He was.”
“What happened?”
As succinctly as possible, Garak told her everything Kira had told him the night before. “I must find him, Natima,” Garak concluded at last, rather daringly. He and Lang were not generally on a first name level of familiarity. “What has happened to him is a... great injustice, and I am indebted to him. I would not be the man I am today if he had not been my friend.”
Lang studied him closely. “And was a friend all he was to you, Garak? Don’t forget, I saw the man myself,” she added wryly, when he blinked at her. “He was one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen of any gender in any species.”
“Ah... yes,” Garak said, slightly thrown. He hadn’t expected her to probe so directly. “We were... intimate, for a time. We exchanged a few letters after my return to Cardassia. He stopped writing back a few months ago. I attributed it at the time to a lack of interest on his part, but it seems that I was mistaken.”
She nodded. “My condolences, Garak. I know this must be difficult. I went through it several times myself under our previous regime.”
Garak winced. “Yes. And believe me, I don’t think I have ever regretted in a more visceral way the part I played in that. I would not wish this on anyone. But Julian doesn’t deserve to suffer for my sins.”
“No, he doesn’t. And we have, as you know, a shortage of qualified physicians and researchers. He could be an asset to us in the rebuilding process.”
Garak glanced at her. Hope stirred in the pit of his stomach. “Yes, very much so.”
Lang leaned back in her chair, regarding him. Several seconds passed in silence, as she appeared to consider her options. Finally she drew a deep breath and said, “Elim Garak. As Acting Castellan of the New Democratic Cardassia, I’m charging you with finding Doctor Julian Bashir and bringing him safely to Cardassia Prime.”
Garak blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me correctly. This mission is for the good of Cardassia and its citizens. You will have at your disposal a certain amount of latinum –– though it likely will not be enough –– as well as transportation and the authority of the Cardassian government.”
“It might cause issues with the Federation if they find out,” Garak warned her.
“Oh, I don’t imagine it will stay a secret,” Lang said with a smile. “I think it might be good to remind the Federation that while we are, indeed, grateful for their aid, we are not subservient to them. Fly under the radar as much as you like, but if it comes down to it, you have permission to negotiate openly for Doctor Bashir’s release.”
Garak grimaced. “I doubt they’ll give him up willingly. I fear they wish to make an example of him.”
“Perhaps, but that would rather undercut the appearance of benevolence the Federation tries so hard to maintain. Still, that need not be your first course of action. I understand if you prefer subterfuge.”
Garak inclined his head. “Thank you, Castellan. I am grateful for your support. You mentioned transportation?”
“Yes. It won’t be anything fancy, but I can arrange for you a small, warp-capable ship. I realize that you are used to working alone, but perhaps you might like to take someone with you? I can’t spare you Doctor Parmak, unfortunately.”
“Of course not,” Garak replied. Kelas was far too valuable for Lang to allow him to go haring off on this rather ill-considered adventure, and in any case, he would not have been Garak’s first choice for more than one reason. “It’s not necessary, anyway. Kira Nerys will be coming with me.”
“Good,” Lang said, standing. “My assistant will be in touch about the ship and other resources in the next few hours. Send me updates as you’re able.”
“I will,” Garak said. He stood and faced her, holding her gaze steadily. “Thank you, Natima.”
“Don’t be too grateful,” she said with a wry smile. “To be honest, it is probably easier on everyone if you are off-planet during the election. Now, go. I have to find someone else to lead the garden project in your absence, and there are fourteen impossible decisions I need to make before lunch.”
Garak didn’t wait to be told twice. He left her office, passing her assistant on his way out. Garak exchanged nods with her and continued walking. Already he was making a list of everything he would need to take with him for a journey of indeterminate duration.
Less than a day earlier, he had hoped to never leave Cardassia again. If it were anyone but Julian, he might not have. But then again, if it were anyone but Julian, Kira would not have asked.
He stopped in his own office only briefly, just long enough to send an encrypted subspace message to Kira. He let her know that he would arrive on DS9 the following evening, and he would bring their transportation with him.
His final stop was across the main square, in the municipal hospital. Its reconstruction had been a top priority, and it was nearly finished. Garak entered through the administrative entrance and took the stairs to the second floor. It was still early, but Kelas was, like Natima and Garak himself, an early riser. He would probably be at his desk by now.
He was, indeed. He looked up at Garak’s light tap on the doorframe. “Elim! What are you doing here? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Garak replied. Kelas gestured him in; Garak entered but didn’t take a seat. “I wanted to tell you in person that... well, I’m going away for a while.”
“Oh,” Kelas said, frowning. “Why? Did they offer you the ambassadorship to the Federation? I told Lang that you wouldn’t ––”
“No, no,” Garak said. “No, it’s... Kira Nerys contacted me last night and let me know that Doctor Bashir was arrested and vanished while in custody. I’m going to find him and bring him back, if I can. Lang has charged me with doing so for the good of Cardassia.”
Kelas leaned back subtly. “I see.”
Garak thought he probably did. “My dear...”
“Please, don’t apologize,” Kelas said swiftly. “It’s not as though we promised each other anything, and I know how much he means to you. Go. Rescue your Federaji doctor and bring him home.”
“If it helps, I think you’ll like each other,” Garak said, through the complicated tangle of sentiment in his chest. “And I will return. But it will likely be some time. Months, probably. The journey to Earth is nearly two weeks in one direction.”
“We shall soldier on without you,” Kelas said with a faint smile. “It’s all right, Garak. I knew you were in love with another.”
Garak swallowed. He could not bring himself to say what was in his heart –– namely, that he thought he could have loved Kelas as well, given enough time. He’d thought he was moving on from Julian. The war had changed them both, irrevocably. The jagged edges of themselves hadn’t fit together by the end, and it was very possible that whatever they had once felt toward each other was gone. Garak wasn’t going because he had hope of anything more.
And yet... it was possible that there was a little bit of hope. A tiny spark, in the burnt embers of Garak’s heart. And it was because of that tiny spark that he could not promise Kelas anything.
“Be well, my friend,” Garak finally said, offering his palm.
“And you, my friend,” Kelas replied, pressing their hands together.
Garak turned away before he could second guess himself and left.