DS9 - Oh god I write terrible things.
Oct. 20th, 2014 07:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seikilosTitle: Lines
Fandom: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Humour
Rating & Warnings: PG (innuendo)
Words: 3784
Disclaimer: I don't own the above media.
Summary: There's been a buildup of Dominion forces near the wormhole--or so Dukat says. He proposes a joint Cardassian-Federation mission to investigate, with himself and Sisko as their governments' representatives.
Author's Notes: I had so much fun with being as terrible as possible in this one. Dukat may be a horrible person, but damn if he isn't a blast to write sometimes.
Thank you very much to tinsnip, who reblogged this travel calculator at exactly the right time for me not to make embarrassing timing mistakes with this fic. :D;;
Sisko was, at long last, relearning how to face each new day with optimism. Before Jennifer's death, optimism had been easy—a new day had meant new discoveries with his wife and son. But after Wolf 359, he'd left any sort of positivity behind with the Saratoga, and it had only been over the past few years that he'd once again come to face each day looking forward to its challenges.
This change in philosophy sometimes led to disappointments.
"Good morning, sir," Major Kira greeted him as he walked into ops. "I have a transmission waiting for you."
Sisko stopped. He and the Major had been through a lot together; they'd reached the point where they could read each other quickly and well. What he was reading right now was not promising a good start to his day.
"Who is it?"
"It's from Gul Dukat," Kira answered in that tone of revulsion she reserved exclusively for their least favourite Cardassian.
Sisko let out a very long sigh. From her station, the Old Man smiled sympathetically at his instant shift in attitude. He rolled his eyes in return, then said to the Major, "I'll take it in my office."
"All right. . . . Good luck, sir."
"Thanks." The smile he offered her was unenthusiastic, to say the least. "I'll need it."
*
"Commander, it's so good to see you," Dukat greeted him with every appearance of sincerity. There was a lilt to his voice and he was smiling his good-humoured crocodile smile and Sisko didn't have the patience for any of it.
"What is it, Dukat?"
Dukat, unfortunately, was not inclined to be succinct. Instead, he tsked. "Feeling all right, Commander? You sound out of sorts. Are you certain you're going to bed in good time? Nothing—or no one—is keeping you up, I hope."
Sisko didn't drag a hand across his face, as much as he wanted to. Instead, he bit out, "If you don't get to the point, I'm ending the transmission and blocking your call. What do you want?"
"All right, all right." Dukat held up his hands. "I can see you're a busy man, so I won't keep you." He assumed a grave expression. "Central Command has recently received information about a Dominion build-up on Delta Ellani."
"That's awfully close to the wormhole."
He may have spoken calmly, but Dukat's announcement had shot him full of adrenaline. Delta Ellani was a Class M planet; its most important asset was its location. If what Dukat was saying was true, they were all in for some serious trouble.
Though—"Are you sure you should be talking about this with me? It's been my experience that Central Command doesn't like sharing information with outsiders unless it absolutely has to."
"Ordinarily, yes, that would be true. But Central Command wants to demonstrate its commitment to the new treaty with Bajor and its goodwill toward the Federation." Dukat leaned forward. "The success of this mission would be of great benefit to all of us—even the Klingons and the Romulans."
The more Dukat spoke, the less Sisko was liking the situation. Dukat seemed sincere, but the man could convince someone he only had their best interests at heart while slitting their throat. Sincerity from him didn't mean a damn thing.
"What kind of mission are you talking about?"
"A very small one, reconnaissance only. One Cardassian and one member of the Federation together in one of your runabouts to gather information about the nature of this Dominion build-up. From there, our governments can mutually decide upon a course of action."
He could see where this was going from light years away. All the same, he had to ask: "And who exactly are you suggesting for this mission?"
Dukat smiled. "You and I, of course. You are the symbol of the Federation on Deep Space Nine and the Emissary of the Prophets on Bajor—you're the perfect representative."
"And what about you?" Sisko asked, morbidly curious about the man's logic.
"I'd like to turn over a new leaf, as I believe the expression goes. I want nothing more than to be the face of the new Cardassia, a Cardassia that works hand in hand with the people of Bajor for the greater good," Dukat answered. It was a wonder he wasn't suffocating under the weight of his own propaganda.
Sisko didn't reply right away. It was obvious Dukat was up to something, although what that was, he couldn't say just yet. The smart thing to do would be to refuse and end the transmission.
. . . But what if he was telling the truth? If there was a Dominion build-up directly outside the wormhole, the more advance warning Starfleet and the Bajoran militia had, the greater chance they would have of surviving an attack with a minimum of casualties.
Dukat couldn't be trusted. But he could be handled.
Probably.
"All right," he agreed, then raised a hand when Dukat seemed ready to express his gratification in his usual longwinded way. "Come to the station as soon as you can. We'll depart as soon as you arrive."
"I look forward to it with the greatest of pleasure. After all, we do make an excellent team. Goodbye, Commander."
Dukat turned one last easy smile on him and then his image vanished. Sisko ignored his usual urge to disinfect the screen, sighed, and went to make preparations.
*
When Dukat set foot on the station a little under a week later, sadly, Sisko was there to welcome him. In most other situations, he would have sent Kira for a job like this. But, after Dax had shared with him the details of Dukat's . . . interest in the Major, he couldn't in good faith subject her to more of the same. Sending anyone lower down the chain would be an insult when receiving a gul, and while Sisko wouldn't lose any sleep over Dukat's hurt feelings, he didn't want to do anything to harm the treaty between Bajor and Cardassia.
"Commander! I see you've come to meet me yourself—I'm honoured," Dukat exclaimed as he swaggered off his ship and onto the station.
As if he still owned the place, Sisko thought and reminded himself again of the treaty. "Welcome to Deep Space Nine. Odo has assigned you quarters and a security detail. I'll escort you there."
"Oh, that won't be necessary," Dukat said as they began to walk. "I'm sure you run a very safe station. While I appreciate your consideration, I won't be needing any extra protection."
It was less for Dukat's safety and more for the station's; treaty or no treaty, he didn't put a bit of espionage or sabotage beneath Dukat. At the same time, though, he didn't doubt someone might be tempted beyond what they could bear, seeing the symbol of the Bajoran Occupation strolling along the promenade.
"All the same, the security detail will remain," Sisko informed him.
Dukat sighed. With the air of one granting a great concession, he said, "Very well. I put myself in your hands."
It was a long, long walk to Dukat's quarters. Though he made certain to take Dukat by the least-trafficked areas he could, they were still treated to shock, double-takes, and, from the Bajorans they encountered, expressions of betrayal. He supposed it would be difficult for them to watch their Emissary of the Prophets conversing with a man like Dukat, no matter how forced and unenjoyable that conversation was.
Or rather, it was forced and unenjoyable on his end. Dukat chatted away as if they were great friends, taking an interest in his work and asking about Jake in a way that made the back of Sisko's neck tighten. For his part, aside from one very brief question about Dukat's family out of token politeness, Sisko was more than happy to let the conversation die. It was a shame Dukat wasn't about to allow that.
When they at last reached his quarters, Dukat was inclined to linger, despite the two Starfleet security officers standing at attention on either side of his door. (He had made certain to assign Starfleet personnel to this particular duty. While he had nothing but admiration for Bajoran security and didn't doubt they would do their job with perfect professionalism, there was no sense in being callous.)
"These are your quarters. I hope you'll find them suitable," he said shortly. "If you need anything, speak with Soral or Trần outside and they'll take care of it."
Dukat leaned against the doorframe, one long arm slithering up until his fingertips brushed its top. He bent forward, his long neck lengthening further still and bringing him intrusively into Sisko's personal space—by Human and by Cardassian standards.
Sisko did not take a single step backward. He didn't even shift his weight onto his heels, away from Dukat. If Dukat wanted to play some bizarre game, fine. But Sisko wasn't about to indulge him.
"I'm sure they will," Dukat murmured, voice low. "And if I need something they can't provide?"
"Then they'll find someone who can," Sisko said curtly, and yes, that was the end of his patience. "Good evening, Dukat. I'll see you at oh six hundred hours outside Runabout Pad C. Don't be late or I'll leave without you."
He turned and strode away. He heard Dukat laugh and call after him, "Don't worry. I'll be there. Say hello to Jake for me."
Sisko didn't punch the wall of the turbolift, but it was close.
*
"You'll be on your own when you get up tomorrow," he told his son; Dukat's supposed well-wishes were going to stay pointedly unrelayed. "I'll be on a mission in the Gamma Quadrant."
Jake looked up suddenly. Sisko supposed it was those magic words, "Gamma Quadrant." What had once been a symbol of optimism and discovery had overnight become synonymous with danger. Sisko didn't blame him one bit for his frown—and Jake didn't even know what the mission was yet.
"The Gamma Quadrant?"
"That's right. Apparently, the Cardassians have heard the Dominion is assembling their forces just outside the wormhole. First thing tomorrow morning, I'll be going with Gul Dukat to see if there's any truth to it."
Jake didn't look any happier for getting the details. If anything, he sounded outright dismayed when he asked, "You're going with Gul Dukat?"
Sisko let Jake hear his sigh. "I am. It's a reconnaissance mission only, so it isn't as dangerous as it could be, but that's still a lot of time with him."
"Can't you go with someone else? Like Major Kira?"
"Believe me, Jake-o, I'd much rather be working with the Major, but the Cardassian government wants one of their people on the mission. It would be in bad faith to refuse when they were the ones to supply the information."
Jake leaned forward, nearly into his curried rice. "So take Garak along instead. Just—don't go with Dukat, Dad. Please."
"I don't think Mr. Garak is in very good standing with his government right now. I doubt they'd go for it." When Jake's expression didn't lighten, Sisko reached over and squeezed his shoulder. He blew out a breath right after: Jake was tense.
"If you're worried that Dukat is going to stab me in the back, don't be," he went on. "Dukat might be good at treachery, but he won't get a jump on me. I promise."
"That's not what I'm worried about." This time, Jake didn't look reassured. He didn't even try to smile, and while he had previously kept his gaze locked on his father as he attempted to talk him out of the mission, now he could hardly meet his eyes.
"Then what's bothering you?"
"Dad, he . . . he wants. . . ."
"Yes?" Sisko prompted, growing more mystified by the second.
Amazingly, Jake flushed. "He wants to date you."
Laughter burst from Sisko, sudden and unintentional. Jake's fears were very obviously causing him distress and he shouldn't laugh at them, but they were just so surreal that he couldn't help himself.
"Y-You think Dukat wants to date me?" he huffed out, still trying to rein himself in. What a mental image!
"He does," Jake insisted, still blushing. "Trust me, Dad. Haven't you been paying attention to the way he looks at you?"
"To the way he looks at me?" Sisko repeated.
"Like—like—" Jake's eyes darted left and right. His gaze fell to his plate. "He looks at you like you're . . . dinner."
Then he covered his face.
Sisko really, really tried not to laugh again. He managed it, though his voice was shaking slightly when he said, "Jake, if Dukat is hungry for anything, it's my job. I know you're worried, but try not to be. I won't let Dukat hurt me. Everything is going to be just fine."
He gave Jake's shoulder one last squeeze, and this time, he got a wan smile for his efforts.
"I hope you're right."
Sisko picked up his fork again. "Of course I am. Now eat up before that rice gets cold."
Dukat wanted to date him. Sisko shook his head as they returned to their meal. He hadn't heard anything so ridiculous in years.
*
As ridiculous as it was, that was a thought he couldn't keep from springing to mind the next morning when he met Dukat by the runabout pad. (Irritatingly, Dukat had gotten there first, which he helpfully pointed out.) Fortunately, dismissing said thought turned out to be just as easy. Dukat was being his usual arrogant, untrustworthy self. If he was being provocative in any way, it was in the sense of provoking arguments. Whatever Jake had seen in the approximately two seconds he'd met the man, he'd clearly blown it completely out of proportion.
Reaching that conclusion didn't make it easy to step into the Orinoco with Dukat, of course, but at least it served as a reminder that things could always be worse.
Once they were through the wormhole, Dukat actually went quiet—sober, even. Apparently, today was a day for miracles.
"Delta Ellani has five moons," he said, his voice low. There was no reason to speak softly—their words couldn't possibly cross the airless medium of space—but Sisko understood the impulse. "I'd recommend keeping behind the outermost one at all times."
Sisko made certain to speak at a normal volume. "The fifth moon is probably nothing more than a trapped asteroid. We'd have considerably more cover behind the fourth."
"True." There was sharpness in Dukat's normally liquid voice; it seemed he didn't like to be contradicted. "But there's the matter of getting there undetected. Given the positions of the moons in their orbits, I wouldn't rate our chances very highly."
Sisko took his time evaluating Dukat's suggestion. He had to admit, for all the fourth moon was easily six times the size of the fifth, getting to it really would be too much of a risk. It was tempting to stick with his original idea so as not to give Dukat the satisfaction of being right . . . but not that tempting. He did want to survive this mission.
"Setting course for the fifth moon," he announced and ignored the way Dukat smugly leaned back in his seat, arms crossed.
(Sisko had once again taken the precaution of enabling only his set of flight controls. He knew it was pointless—Dukat with his eidetic memory had already memorised them all—but as far as he was concerned, he had earned the right to a little pettiness.)
He grimaced when, after what felt far too long, they arrived at their destination. It was going to take a great deal of manoeuvring and tidy flying to keep them concealed, and if the Jem'Hadar decided to do a sweep of the area, they would have to make a hasty exit. It wasn't the most comfortable situation, which didn't make him any happier about the mission. Still, if getting this information could save even a single life later on, it was worth the risk—and the annoyances of working with Dukat).
Once they were tucked away behind the moon, Sisko took a moment to catch Dukat's eye. "I'll bring our nose out from behind the moon every once in a while. When I do, you concentrate on memorising their numbers and position." Dukat could put his training to good use for a change. "I'll keep us out of sight."
And he'd also glance up from time to time himself. He wouldn't put it past Dukat to make up information to feed him and the Federation, saving the real intelligence for Central Command.
"A pity we can't simply scan them and be done," Dukat commented as he sat up in preparation.
"It is," Sisko agreed, "but we'd have the whole squad of them after us the moment they registered the external scan. These runabouts might be quick for their size, but they aren't that quick."
Dukat growled out a sigh. "Then let's get this over with."
"You won't hear any objections from me."
It was a long, tiring, painstaking process. Sisko dared to bring them out from behind their concealing moon only sporadically and only for a few moments at a time. Dukat complained about his caution, of course, but apparently out of nothing more than habit.
When Dukat informed him that he'd noted everything, Sisko made him check his numbers one last time—not only to enforce verification on Dukat's part but to give himself enough time to finish his own survey. Dukat was indignant at the supposed aspersions this cast upon his ability to count, which inwardly warmed Sisko to no end.
Neither of them spoke until they were safely inside the wormhole. Once there, they spent the passage comparing their observations, making certain they were accurate. The installation had turned out to be relatively minor—outside of Dominion territory, their enemy had to not only contend with the powers of the Alpha Quadrant but any Gamma Quadrant government that didn't appreciate uninvited guests. Still, there was no denying the information was important and both Starfleet and Central Command would be glad of it.
Dukat was obviously thinking along the same lines as DS9 came into view. "Well, I would call this mission a great success. I told you we make a good team. I do hope there will be further opportunities for us to collaborate. We're both men of intellect and insight—I'm sure our respective governments will see the wisdom of our continued partnership."
Sisko permitted himself an eyeroll. It had been a long, stressful mission and he'd earned it. "Orinocco to DS9. Request clearance for docking at Runabout Pad C."
"All clear, Benjamin," Dax's voice came back, an aural island in a sea of Dukat. Did the man ever stop talking?
Apparently not. "Commander, is it just my imagination, or do you have trouble accepting compliments?"
Sisko kept his eyes straight ahead as he docked the runabout. "It's your imagination. I can accept compliments just fine—when they're welcome."
Dukat's sigh blended with the disengaging engines as the craft shut down. Sisko rose from his seat and was about to get the hell off the runabout when Dukat spoke again, his tone oddly reflective:
"Commander."
Sisko turned.
*
". . . and then he kissed me!" Sisko exclaimed to a fascinated Dax. "Gul Dukat kissed me! Me!"
Dax absorbed this for a beat, then made a considering gesture with her head. "Was he any good?"
Sisko boggled at her. "You think I let him kiss me long enough to find out?"
"Probably not."
"Definitely not!" Sisko pushed off from his seat and circled around the couch in his quarters. He couldn't outwalk the memory, but his legs still wanted to give it a damn good try. "And now I'm wondering if he put together the whole mission just to make a pass at me!"
Dax turned in her seat and rested her arms on the back of the couch. "I wouldn't be surprised. But look at it this way, Benjamin: if the worst thing that happened to you while spying on the Jem'Hadar was a little lip action from Dukat, I'd say you're lucky."
"You wouldn't think that if you were the one who'd received the 'lip action.'"
He couldn't help but acknowledge the truth of her words, however. Already calming down, he came back and sat next to her again. "The part I really can't get my head around, though, is that somehow, Jake knew. My son knew that Dukat was going to go after me like that! He's barely met Dukat, let alone seen the two of us together for more than a minute!"
Dax's eyebrows rose. "Smart kid."
"You're telling me that?"
Sixteen years old and he'd figured out in seconds what his old man would still be in the dark about if Dukat hadn't completely abandoned subtlety. How the hell had he managed to raise Jake to be that bright?
Sisko let out a breath. "At any rate, I made it very clear that any interest Dukat has in me isn't mutual. I hope that will be the last of it."
*
It was a year later, and Dax was in a different place with a different person, but the déjà vu she was experiencing was not to be believed. It probably had something to do was what her companion was saying.
"After we'd finished brainstorming, he said that he'd told me that we made a good team." Kira's nose was wrinkled even more than usual at the memory. "And then—"
Dax held up a hand. "Let me guess. He complimented you on your intelligence, or something along those lines."
Kira frowned, leaning on the table to let someone pass by in the crowded replimat. "It was something about me being 'insightful and fascinating.' Then he asked if it was his imagination or could I not take a compliment." When Dax nodded, her frown deepened. "How'd you guess?"
"Let's just say you're not the only one he's tried those lines on," Dax informed her.
Kira's mouth dropped open. "You're not saying he went after you, are you?"
"Thankfully, no. I've been spared that terrible fate—so far, anyway."
"Lucky you." Kira took a sip of her raktajino. "Well, whoever it was, they sure have my sympathy. Dukat just doesn't know when to give up!"
"So what happened next?"
As Kira continued to relate her story, Dax spent a while trying to decide whether she should share it with Benjamin. On one hand, it would bring that whole sorry mess back to him, but on the other, it might be comforting for him to know that at least he wasn't alone. . . .
Fandom: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Humour
Rating & Warnings: PG (innuendo)
Words: 3784
Disclaimer: I don't own the above media.
Summary: There's been a buildup of Dominion forces near the wormhole--or so Dukat says. He proposes a joint Cardassian-Federation mission to investigate, with himself and Sisko as their governments' representatives.
Author's Notes: I had so much fun with being as terrible as possible in this one. Dukat may be a horrible person, but damn if he isn't a blast to write sometimes.
Thank you very much to tinsnip, who reblogged this travel calculator at exactly the right time for me not to make embarrassing timing mistakes with this fic. :D;;
Sisko was, at long last, relearning how to face each new day with optimism. Before Jennifer's death, optimism had been easy—a new day had meant new discoveries with his wife and son. But after Wolf 359, he'd left any sort of positivity behind with the Saratoga, and it had only been over the past few years that he'd once again come to face each day looking forward to its challenges.
This change in philosophy sometimes led to disappointments.
"Good morning, sir," Major Kira greeted him as he walked into ops. "I have a transmission waiting for you."
Sisko stopped. He and the Major had been through a lot together; they'd reached the point where they could read each other quickly and well. What he was reading right now was not promising a good start to his day.
"Who is it?"
"It's from Gul Dukat," Kira answered in that tone of revulsion she reserved exclusively for their least favourite Cardassian.
Sisko let out a very long sigh. From her station, the Old Man smiled sympathetically at his instant shift in attitude. He rolled his eyes in return, then said to the Major, "I'll take it in my office."
"All right. . . . Good luck, sir."
"Thanks." The smile he offered her was unenthusiastic, to say the least. "I'll need it."
"Commander, it's so good to see you," Dukat greeted him with every appearance of sincerity. There was a lilt to his voice and he was smiling his good-humoured crocodile smile and Sisko didn't have the patience for any of it.
"What is it, Dukat?"
Dukat, unfortunately, was not inclined to be succinct. Instead, he tsked. "Feeling all right, Commander? You sound out of sorts. Are you certain you're going to bed in good time? Nothing—or no one—is keeping you up, I hope."
Sisko didn't drag a hand across his face, as much as he wanted to. Instead, he bit out, "If you don't get to the point, I'm ending the transmission and blocking your call. What do you want?"
"All right, all right." Dukat held up his hands. "I can see you're a busy man, so I won't keep you." He assumed a grave expression. "Central Command has recently received information about a Dominion build-up on Delta Ellani."
"That's awfully close to the wormhole."
He may have spoken calmly, but Dukat's announcement had shot him full of adrenaline. Delta Ellani was a Class M planet; its most important asset was its location. If what Dukat was saying was true, they were all in for some serious trouble.
Though—"Are you sure you should be talking about this with me? It's been my experience that Central Command doesn't like sharing information with outsiders unless it absolutely has to."
"Ordinarily, yes, that would be true. But Central Command wants to demonstrate its commitment to the new treaty with Bajor and its goodwill toward the Federation." Dukat leaned forward. "The success of this mission would be of great benefit to all of us—even the Klingons and the Romulans."
The more Dukat spoke, the less Sisko was liking the situation. Dukat seemed sincere, but the man could convince someone he only had their best interests at heart while slitting their throat. Sincerity from him didn't mean a damn thing.
"What kind of mission are you talking about?"
"A very small one, reconnaissance only. One Cardassian and one member of the Federation together in one of your runabouts to gather information about the nature of this Dominion build-up. From there, our governments can mutually decide upon a course of action."
He could see where this was going from light years away. All the same, he had to ask: "And who exactly are you suggesting for this mission?"
Dukat smiled. "You and I, of course. You are the symbol of the Federation on Deep Space Nine and the Emissary of the Prophets on Bajor—you're the perfect representative."
"And what about you?" Sisko asked, morbidly curious about the man's logic.
"I'd like to turn over a new leaf, as I believe the expression goes. I want nothing more than to be the face of the new Cardassia, a Cardassia that works hand in hand with the people of Bajor for the greater good," Dukat answered. It was a wonder he wasn't suffocating under the weight of his own propaganda.
Sisko didn't reply right away. It was obvious Dukat was up to something, although what that was, he couldn't say just yet. The smart thing to do would be to refuse and end the transmission.
. . . But what if he was telling the truth? If there was a Dominion build-up directly outside the wormhole, the more advance warning Starfleet and the Bajoran militia had, the greater chance they would have of surviving an attack with a minimum of casualties.
Dukat couldn't be trusted. But he could be handled.
Probably.
"All right," he agreed, then raised a hand when Dukat seemed ready to express his gratification in his usual longwinded way. "Come to the station as soon as you can. We'll depart as soon as you arrive."
"I look forward to it with the greatest of pleasure. After all, we do make an excellent team. Goodbye, Commander."
Dukat turned one last easy smile on him and then his image vanished. Sisko ignored his usual urge to disinfect the screen, sighed, and went to make preparations.
When Dukat set foot on the station a little under a week later, sadly, Sisko was there to welcome him. In most other situations, he would have sent Kira for a job like this. But, after Dax had shared with him the details of Dukat's . . . interest in the Major, he couldn't in good faith subject her to more of the same. Sending anyone lower down the chain would be an insult when receiving a gul, and while Sisko wouldn't lose any sleep over Dukat's hurt feelings, he didn't want to do anything to harm the treaty between Bajor and Cardassia.
"Commander! I see you've come to meet me yourself—I'm honoured," Dukat exclaimed as he swaggered off his ship and onto the station.
As if he still owned the place, Sisko thought and reminded himself again of the treaty. "Welcome to Deep Space Nine. Odo has assigned you quarters and a security detail. I'll escort you there."
"Oh, that won't be necessary," Dukat said as they began to walk. "I'm sure you run a very safe station. While I appreciate your consideration, I won't be needing any extra protection."
It was less for Dukat's safety and more for the station's; treaty or no treaty, he didn't put a bit of espionage or sabotage beneath Dukat. At the same time, though, he didn't doubt someone might be tempted beyond what they could bear, seeing the symbol of the Bajoran Occupation strolling along the promenade.
"All the same, the security detail will remain," Sisko informed him.
Dukat sighed. With the air of one granting a great concession, he said, "Very well. I put myself in your hands."
It was a long, long walk to Dukat's quarters. Though he made certain to take Dukat by the least-trafficked areas he could, they were still treated to shock, double-takes, and, from the Bajorans they encountered, expressions of betrayal. He supposed it would be difficult for them to watch their Emissary of the Prophets conversing with a man like Dukat, no matter how forced and unenjoyable that conversation was.
Or rather, it was forced and unenjoyable on his end. Dukat chatted away as if they were great friends, taking an interest in his work and asking about Jake in a way that made the back of Sisko's neck tighten. For his part, aside from one very brief question about Dukat's family out of token politeness, Sisko was more than happy to let the conversation die. It was a shame Dukat wasn't about to allow that.
When they at last reached his quarters, Dukat was inclined to linger, despite the two Starfleet security officers standing at attention on either side of his door. (He had made certain to assign Starfleet personnel to this particular duty. While he had nothing but admiration for Bajoran security and didn't doubt they would do their job with perfect professionalism, there was no sense in being callous.)
"These are your quarters. I hope you'll find them suitable," he said shortly. "If you need anything, speak with Soral or Trần outside and they'll take care of it."
Dukat leaned against the doorframe, one long arm slithering up until his fingertips brushed its top. He bent forward, his long neck lengthening further still and bringing him intrusively into Sisko's personal space—by Human and by Cardassian standards.
Sisko did not take a single step backward. He didn't even shift his weight onto his heels, away from Dukat. If Dukat wanted to play some bizarre game, fine. But Sisko wasn't about to indulge him.
"I'm sure they will," Dukat murmured, voice low. "And if I need something they can't provide?"
"Then they'll find someone who can," Sisko said curtly, and yes, that was the end of his patience. "Good evening, Dukat. I'll see you at oh six hundred hours outside Runabout Pad C. Don't be late or I'll leave without you."
He turned and strode away. He heard Dukat laugh and call after him, "Don't worry. I'll be there. Say hello to Jake for me."
Sisko didn't punch the wall of the turbolift, but it was close.
"You'll be on your own when you get up tomorrow," he told his son; Dukat's supposed well-wishes were going to stay pointedly unrelayed. "I'll be on a mission in the Gamma Quadrant."
Jake looked up suddenly. Sisko supposed it was those magic words, "Gamma Quadrant." What had once been a symbol of optimism and discovery had overnight become synonymous with danger. Sisko didn't blame him one bit for his frown—and Jake didn't even know what the mission was yet.
"The Gamma Quadrant?"
"That's right. Apparently, the Cardassians have heard the Dominion is assembling their forces just outside the wormhole. First thing tomorrow morning, I'll be going with Gul Dukat to see if there's any truth to it."
Jake didn't look any happier for getting the details. If anything, he sounded outright dismayed when he asked, "You're going with Gul Dukat?"
Sisko let Jake hear his sigh. "I am. It's a reconnaissance mission only, so it isn't as dangerous as it could be, but that's still a lot of time with him."
"Can't you go with someone else? Like Major Kira?"
"Believe me, Jake-o, I'd much rather be working with the Major, but the Cardassian government wants one of their people on the mission. It would be in bad faith to refuse when they were the ones to supply the information."
Jake leaned forward, nearly into his curried rice. "So take Garak along instead. Just—don't go with Dukat, Dad. Please."
"I don't think Mr. Garak is in very good standing with his government right now. I doubt they'd go for it." When Jake's expression didn't lighten, Sisko reached over and squeezed his shoulder. He blew out a breath right after: Jake was tense.
"If you're worried that Dukat is going to stab me in the back, don't be," he went on. "Dukat might be good at treachery, but he won't get a jump on me. I promise."
"That's not what I'm worried about." This time, Jake didn't look reassured. He didn't even try to smile, and while he had previously kept his gaze locked on his father as he attempted to talk him out of the mission, now he could hardly meet his eyes.
"Then what's bothering you?"
"Dad, he . . . he wants. . . ."
"Yes?" Sisko prompted, growing more mystified by the second.
Amazingly, Jake flushed. "He wants to date you."
Laughter burst from Sisko, sudden and unintentional. Jake's fears were very obviously causing him distress and he shouldn't laugh at them, but they were just so surreal that he couldn't help himself.
"Y-You think Dukat wants to date me?" he huffed out, still trying to rein himself in. What a mental image!
"He does," Jake insisted, still blushing. "Trust me, Dad. Haven't you been paying attention to the way he looks at you?"
"To the way he looks at me?" Sisko repeated.
"Like—like—" Jake's eyes darted left and right. His gaze fell to his plate. "He looks at you like you're . . . dinner."
Then he covered his face.
Sisko really, really tried not to laugh again. He managed it, though his voice was shaking slightly when he said, "Jake, if Dukat is hungry for anything, it's my job. I know you're worried, but try not to be. I won't let Dukat hurt me. Everything is going to be just fine."
He gave Jake's shoulder one last squeeze, and this time, he got a wan smile for his efforts.
"I hope you're right."
Sisko picked up his fork again. "Of course I am. Now eat up before that rice gets cold."
Dukat wanted to date him. Sisko shook his head as they returned to their meal. He hadn't heard anything so ridiculous in years.
As ridiculous as it was, that was a thought he couldn't keep from springing to mind the next morning when he met Dukat by the runabout pad. (Irritatingly, Dukat had gotten there first, which he helpfully pointed out.) Fortunately, dismissing said thought turned out to be just as easy. Dukat was being his usual arrogant, untrustworthy self. If he was being provocative in any way, it was in the sense of provoking arguments. Whatever Jake had seen in the approximately two seconds he'd met the man, he'd clearly blown it completely out of proportion.
Reaching that conclusion didn't make it easy to step into the Orinoco with Dukat, of course, but at least it served as a reminder that things could always be worse.
Once they were through the wormhole, Dukat actually went quiet—sober, even. Apparently, today was a day for miracles.
"Delta Ellani has five moons," he said, his voice low. There was no reason to speak softly—their words couldn't possibly cross the airless medium of space—but Sisko understood the impulse. "I'd recommend keeping behind the outermost one at all times."
Sisko made certain to speak at a normal volume. "The fifth moon is probably nothing more than a trapped asteroid. We'd have considerably more cover behind the fourth."
"True." There was sharpness in Dukat's normally liquid voice; it seemed he didn't like to be contradicted. "But there's the matter of getting there undetected. Given the positions of the moons in their orbits, I wouldn't rate our chances very highly."
Sisko took his time evaluating Dukat's suggestion. He had to admit, for all the fourth moon was easily six times the size of the fifth, getting to it really would be too much of a risk. It was tempting to stick with his original idea so as not to give Dukat the satisfaction of being right . . . but not that tempting. He did want to survive this mission.
"Setting course for the fifth moon," he announced and ignored the way Dukat smugly leaned back in his seat, arms crossed.
(Sisko had once again taken the precaution of enabling only his set of flight controls. He knew it was pointless—Dukat with his eidetic memory had already memorised them all—but as far as he was concerned, he had earned the right to a little pettiness.)
He grimaced when, after what felt far too long, they arrived at their destination. It was going to take a great deal of manoeuvring and tidy flying to keep them concealed, and if the Jem'Hadar decided to do a sweep of the area, they would have to make a hasty exit. It wasn't the most comfortable situation, which didn't make him any happier about the mission. Still, if getting this information could save even a single life later on, it was worth the risk—and the annoyances of working with Dukat).
Once they were tucked away behind the moon, Sisko took a moment to catch Dukat's eye. "I'll bring our nose out from behind the moon every once in a while. When I do, you concentrate on memorising their numbers and position." Dukat could put his training to good use for a change. "I'll keep us out of sight."
And he'd also glance up from time to time himself. He wouldn't put it past Dukat to make up information to feed him and the Federation, saving the real intelligence for Central Command.
"A pity we can't simply scan them and be done," Dukat commented as he sat up in preparation.
"It is," Sisko agreed, "but we'd have the whole squad of them after us the moment they registered the external scan. These runabouts might be quick for their size, but they aren't that quick."
Dukat growled out a sigh. "Then let's get this over with."
"You won't hear any objections from me."
It was a long, tiring, painstaking process. Sisko dared to bring them out from behind their concealing moon only sporadically and only for a few moments at a time. Dukat complained about his caution, of course, but apparently out of nothing more than habit.
When Dukat informed him that he'd noted everything, Sisko made him check his numbers one last time—not only to enforce verification on Dukat's part but to give himself enough time to finish his own survey. Dukat was indignant at the supposed aspersions this cast upon his ability to count, which inwardly warmed Sisko to no end.
Neither of them spoke until they were safely inside the wormhole. Once there, they spent the passage comparing their observations, making certain they were accurate. The installation had turned out to be relatively minor—outside of Dominion territory, their enemy had to not only contend with the powers of the Alpha Quadrant but any Gamma Quadrant government that didn't appreciate uninvited guests. Still, there was no denying the information was important and both Starfleet and Central Command would be glad of it.
Dukat was obviously thinking along the same lines as DS9 came into view. "Well, I would call this mission a great success. I told you we make a good team. I do hope there will be further opportunities for us to collaborate. We're both men of intellect and insight—I'm sure our respective governments will see the wisdom of our continued partnership."
Sisko permitted himself an eyeroll. It had been a long, stressful mission and he'd earned it. "Orinocco to DS9. Request clearance for docking at Runabout Pad C."
"All clear, Benjamin," Dax's voice came back, an aural island in a sea of Dukat. Did the man ever stop talking?
Apparently not. "Commander, is it just my imagination, or do you have trouble accepting compliments?"
Sisko kept his eyes straight ahead as he docked the runabout. "It's your imagination. I can accept compliments just fine—when they're welcome."
Dukat's sigh blended with the disengaging engines as the craft shut down. Sisko rose from his seat and was about to get the hell off the runabout when Dukat spoke again, his tone oddly reflective:
"Commander."
Sisko turned.
". . . and then he kissed me!" Sisko exclaimed to a fascinated Dax. "Gul Dukat kissed me! Me!"
Dax absorbed this for a beat, then made a considering gesture with her head. "Was he any good?"
Sisko boggled at her. "You think I let him kiss me long enough to find out?"
"Probably not."
"Definitely not!" Sisko pushed off from his seat and circled around the couch in his quarters. He couldn't outwalk the memory, but his legs still wanted to give it a damn good try. "And now I'm wondering if he put together the whole mission just to make a pass at me!"
Dax turned in her seat and rested her arms on the back of the couch. "I wouldn't be surprised. But look at it this way, Benjamin: if the worst thing that happened to you while spying on the Jem'Hadar was a little lip action from Dukat, I'd say you're lucky."
"You wouldn't think that if you were the one who'd received the 'lip action.'"
He couldn't help but acknowledge the truth of her words, however. Already calming down, he came back and sat next to her again. "The part I really can't get my head around, though, is that somehow, Jake knew. My son knew that Dukat was going to go after me like that! He's barely met Dukat, let alone seen the two of us together for more than a minute!"
Dax's eyebrows rose. "Smart kid."
"You're telling me that?"
Sixteen years old and he'd figured out in seconds what his old man would still be in the dark about if Dukat hadn't completely abandoned subtlety. How the hell had he managed to raise Jake to be that bright?
Sisko let out a breath. "At any rate, I made it very clear that any interest Dukat has in me isn't mutual. I hope that will be the last of it."
It was a year later, and Dax was in a different place with a different person, but the déjà vu she was experiencing was not to be believed. It probably had something to do was what her companion was saying.
"After we'd finished brainstorming, he said that he'd told me that we made a good team." Kira's nose was wrinkled even more than usual at the memory. "And then—"
Dax held up a hand. "Let me guess. He complimented you on your intelligence, or something along those lines."
Kira frowned, leaning on the table to let someone pass by in the crowded replimat. "It was something about me being 'insightful and fascinating.' Then he asked if it was his imagination or could I not take a compliment." When Dax nodded, her frown deepened. "How'd you guess?"
"Let's just say you're not the only one he's tried those lines on," Dax informed her.
Kira's mouth dropped open. "You're not saying he went after you, are you?"
"Thankfully, no. I've been spared that terrible fate—so far, anyway."
"Lucky you." Kira took a sip of her raktajino. "Well, whoever it was, they sure have my sympathy. Dukat just doesn't know when to give up!"
"So what happened next?"
As Kira continued to relate her story, Dax spent a while trying to decide whether she should share it with Benjamin. On one hand, it would bring that whole sorry mess back to him, but on the other, it might be comforting for him to know that at least he wasn't alone. . . .
