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            “Am I interrupting?” Julian Bashir asked when he entered Garak’s shop only to find a rather tense standoff between his tailor friend and the visiting Dukat with his perennial sidekick Damar.

            Dukat looked rueful at the intrusion, but said, “No. We’re finished here. I meant what I said, Garak.”

            Clearly unruffled, Garak countered, “And I meant what I said as well. I would never do anything to hurt Ziyal, but that also includes not hurting her by refusing her my company whenever she wishes it. Like I told you, she extended an invitation to me first. I did not pursue, but neither did I resist.”

            Obviously dissatisfied with that response, Dukat appeared about to frame another protest, but before he could do so, he saw Garak’s eyes shift to the doorway behind him and Damar, and widen in uncharacteristic astonishment.

            “Now there’s a sight that you don’t see every day,” Garak spoke barely above a whisper.

            Dukat, Damar, and the newly arrived Bashir turned and beheld a truly amazing visitor. At first glance, it appeared to be Garak himself, but clad in a military uniform like Dukat’s and Damar’s.

            Automatically, Bashir gasped and backed several steps from the doorway, toward the three still stunned Cardassians. Seeing his human friend’s reaction, the tailor Garak, intuitive as ever, asked, “Is this the version of me that nearly killed you, Julian?”

            Bashir’s voice was hushed, “Yes, I believe that he is.”

            The newcomer’s eyes sparkled. “Ah, so you’ve told my counterpart about me; I’m flattered.”

            “Don’t be,” he replied stiffly. “I wasn’t complimentary.”

            “What is this all about, anyway; who is this duplicate?” Dukat demanded.

            Briefly, Garak and Bashir filled in Dukat and Damar regarding the sinister parallel universe, including its malevolent version of Garak.

            “Gul Garak, if you please,” the new arrival corrected. “Or rather, I will be again, after we retake Terok Nor from the Terran rebellion.” Slowly, casually, he almost absently wandered in Bashir’s general direction, clearly testing the human’s reaction. Just as carefully, trying to appear equally nonchalant, Bashir moved to put Dukat and Damar between him and his gradual pursuer, while maneuvering toward his friend Garak.

            Damar grinned smugly. “Terok Nor. Nice name. And you say that in your version of reality, we’ve enslaved humans. Delightful.” He eyed Bashir suggestively.

            A ghost of a smirk crossed Dukat’s face as well at that, but then he peevishly accused Bashir, “What are you doing? Why are you orbiting us?? I feel as if Damar and I have acquired a moon.”

            “He’s afraid of me,” Gul Garak told them with a diabolical gleam in his eye, still subtly in pursuit, and obviously relishing his effect on his quarry.

            Defensively, Bashir retorted, “The last time that we saw each other, you were about to kill me.”

            “Oh, I wasn’t just going to kill you,” he reminded his intended victim with a pronounced twinkle in his eye. Then he gleefully informed his fellow Cardassians, “I was going to publicly torture him to death, him and his friend O’Brien.”

            Dukat and Damar were clearly interested in this account; even the tailor Garak seemed impressed by the obvious ironies of that.

            “Stay away from me.” Bashir slid behind his friend, farthest from the evil Garak.

            Misinterpreting his counterpart’s attentiveness, Gul Garak invited, “Want to help me do it to him? The two of us working together at it would undoubtedly draw an even bigger audience on your Promenade than I would have, working alone on mine.”

            “No. And stay away from him.” Garak shifted to block the evil Garak’s advance on his human friend.

            “Oh, no, don’t tell me that you’re an angel over here???” Gul Garak’s accusation was thick with derision

            “Hardly!” scoffed Dukat meaningfully.

            “Compared to you, he is!” Bashir told his persecutor. Then he added, “Come to think of it, compared to you, anyone is.”

            “Come here, Terran. I have big plans for you.” The intruder was downright playful in his sadism, and evidently enjoying himself immensely.

            Increasingly, Dukat appeared utterly fascinated.

            This universe’s Garak continued to move to block his path. “I told you to leave him alone.”

            “You care about this Terran!” Gul Garak was morbidly intrigued. “In fact, he’s quite precious to you, isn’t he? How adorable! Pathetic, but adorable.” Exuding sarcasm, he coaxed the human, “Come here, Precious!”

            Trying to salvage what he clearly felt was damaged dignity, Bashir demanded somewhat harshly, “What are you doing here in this universe, anyway? Aren’t you busy enough trying to take back your station??”

            “Regent Worf is doing that. And I grew tired of his company. I’ll return after the Alliance repossesses Terok Nor.”

            “In other words, you’re in exile!” Bashir realized slyly.

            “What an ironic coincidence!” Dukat looked pointedly between the two Garaks.

            Somewhat affronted, Gul Garak replied, “I’m not as outcast as the Intendant. At least, I will regain my position. She never will.”

            “Thanks to your propaganda to Worf against her, I would imagine,” the human intuited shrewdly. Even as he evidently delighted in scoring points against the Cardassian who had so ruffled his pride in front of others to whom Bashir did not like to appear vulnerable, the doctor reluctantly seemed to realize that he had roused Gul Garak’s ire perhaps a bit more than was prudent. He clearly felt somewhat uneasy at what he saw in the flashing, cold blue eyes. Trying not to be too obvious about it, he slid his gaze sideways, and met that of his friend Garak. Not surprisingly, the tailor had drawn the same conclusion, and was warning his human friend eloquently with his intense gaze.

            But just as obviously, Dukat was rapidly developing his own sinister agenda. With his ice blue eyes narrowed calculatingly, he addressed the unusual visitor, “I gather from your earlier comment about Worf that you are not overly fond of Klingons; have I interpreted you correctly?”

            Gul Garak’s snort of derision made his opinion all too clear. “While they are indeed our allies, and their unimaginative, bludgeoning approach to violence may have its uses on occasion, I still find them boorish, dull-witted, and cumbersome.”

            “We think alike. I, too, have no patience for their simple-mindedness. However, here, they are decidedly not our allies; in fact, they recently, for entirely wrongheaded reasons, dealt our Cardassia a devastating military blow. Damar and I, along with our crew, have been waging our own private little war against them since then, with no support from our lately too-politically-mired empire, and with, I might add, our very own captured Klingon warship.” Dukat stood grinning smugly, haughtily, awaiting the admiration that was sure to follow. He was not to be disappointed.

            “Bravo! How often I have wished that we could stand strong and alone against them, and grind their misguided empire beneath our heels!”

            “Well, here you can help us to do exactly that.”

            “Is that an offer?” Gul Garak’s eyes narrowed cunningly.

            “Why not? Have you anything better to do while you wait for your fortune to change back in your universe?”

            “Not in the least. And I must admit that my near future was looking disastrously dull.”

            “Then do join us,” Damar spoke for the first time in a while. “I can see that your purpose will mesh well with ours. You will be an invaluable ally.” Like Dukat, he all too evidently approved of the unsavory cruel demeanor of Garak’s doppelganger.

            As the three left together without a backward glance, Bashir sighed heavily, and met Garak’s look of foreboding with one of his own. “I wouldn’t want to be in their line of fire,” the human breathed ominously.

            “Mark my word; that is a volatile combination that will wreak deadly havoc on all who stand in their way.” Then Garak’s eyes pierced the human. “Julian, hear me well: you do not want to provoke my counterpart like that ever again.”

            At first, Bashir’s gaze held slight amusement. “Well, you’ve always denigrated yourself as an evil, untrustworthy man.”

            “I am not joking,” Garak told him rather sharply. “He is the incarnation of all of the most evil, vile, dangerous traits that I possess, and which nowadays I mostly work to suppress. He is doubtlessly capable of the most vicious, devastating depravity that I have ever committed, and even more degenerate acts that I have decidedly refrained from ever committing. I clearly see the malevolent ‘me’ in his eyes. Do not cross him.”

            Uneasily, feigning a lightheartedness that he no longer felt, the human asked, “Are you telling me that I wouldn’t live long to regret it?”

            Garak’s gaze grew even more intense, and he moved uncomfortably close to the human, as if proximity would better make his naïve friend face the severity of his danger. “No. I am telling you that you would live all too long and regret it all too desperately. Now am I getting through to you???”

            Bashir gulped and nodded wordlessly.

 

            “I’m sorry if I seemed too harsh with you earlier today,” Garak told him many hours later, as they shared an evening in Quark’s. “But I’m worried about you. I don’t want you killed. And particularly not the way that he would do it.”

            Although he’d found the earlier exchange quite unnerving, Bashir tried to shrug it off casually. “It’s all right. I knew that you were only trying to protect me. And I suppose that it was foolish of me to stand up to him like that. It’s just that…he shamed me in front of you, in front of Dukat, and in front of Damar, and that really bothered me. He hurt my pride.”

            “You’re lucky that that’s all that he hurt.” Garak tried not to sound snide, but did not quite succeed.

            The human was rueful, but asked seriously all the same, “Do you think that he’s actively…‘after me’…now??”

            Garak thought about the question longer than made his companion comfortable, and long enough to raise Bashir’s anxiety level unpleasantly. “Not yet,” he finally responded. “But don’t push him again.”

            “All right.” The human’s reply was hushed, and his demeanor subdued.

 

            It was several nights later when the next shocking event developed. This time, Bashir and O’Brien were throwing darts in Quark’s, while Garak and Ziyal were amiably sharing a nearby table.

            Three bulky, forbidding, dark Cardassian military uniforms had a way of filling even Quark’s wide doorway, and of making the entire bar seem crowded upon their entry, but even more so when they were worn by Gul Dukat, Legate Damar, and Gul Garak. To say that the three men were swaggering was putting it way too conservatively. Despite that, everyone’s attention was still somehow drawn even more to the Cardassians’ petite companion, who at first glance appeared to be Major Kira. But Kira was already seated at yet another table with Jadzia Dax. And that Kira drew a sharp breath in awe and horror, as she blurted, “The Intendant!”

            “There she is!” the scantily-clad newcomer gushed flamboyantly. “Nerys, I just couldn’t wait to see you again!” The Intendant sashayed provocatively over to her double, obviously enjoying making a spectacle of herself. She was followed faithfully by her impressively formidable entourage.

            “Is that why you’re here?” the major asked guardedly, red-alert flashes almost visible in her eyes.

            The Intendant laughed boisterously. “I am flattering you, Nerys, but not that much!”

            By now, all other voices were silenced, and every patron of the bar was staring in disbelief at the dramatic, room-dominating group. Everyone could see that the obviously unstable, clearly depraved, and blatantly amoral version of Kira was literally hanging suggestively all over Dukat, whom one could only describe as strutting and preening.

            Exuding condescension, Gul Garak addressed Major Kira. “As soon as I became aware of Gul Dukat’s interest in you, as well as your frigid attitude toward him, I was all too happy to be able to provide him with a solution. As I told him, he needn’t settle for a prickly, difficult Kira, when I had easy access to one just the opposite. And I knew that she would be quite willing for me to fetch her here, since in our universe, she faces a death sentence at Regent Worf’s hands, if he should ever catch her.”

            The Intendant regarded him skeptically, even poutingly. “At Regent Worf’s command perhaps, but at your hands. You can’t fool me of all people, Garak; since when do you ever stand aside for anyone else to execute??” She smoothly slinked from Dukat to Gul Garak, her arms oozing almost liquidly up and around his neck. “It would be a tragedy if you stood aside. Who else can kill as slowly, as diabolically, as creatively as you???”

            Gul Garak’s own arms went around her waist easily, with evident familiarity, and his unhealthy smile made over half of the watching crowd blanch. “You sound as if you’re looking forward to it, my dear.” His gaze devoured her. “Almost as much as I.”

            She laughed musically, exuberantly, apparently completely unafraid. “Well, it would certainly be…stimulating. And that’s the way I want to go. Someday. But I’m not finished with…less final stimulations just yet.” She turned slightly, and one hand snaked out to suggestively caress Damar’s cheek, and somehow that simple gesture made it eloquently clear that this was far from the first time that she had done so. Then, she slithered back into Dukat’s all-too-willing embrace.

            Major Kira stared, appalled speechless.

            Dukat deliberately misinterpreted her shock, saying, “Too bad, Nerys. You lost out by holding out too long. I am a patient man, but not infinitely so. You missed your chance.”

            Damar looked Major Kira up and down in contempt. “Somehow, I don’t think that we’re missing anything, though.”

            “Aw.” The Intendant pursed her lips in what she undoubtedly thought was a seductive pout. “Let’s not sell my…twin…short. If one of me is delectable, then two of me would be absolutely outrageous! I think that we should invite Nerys to join us tonight.” She eyed the three Cardassian men teasingly. “I imagine that you three could handle two of us; don’t you suppose?” She veritably sparkled at them.

            The unsavory smirks that Dukat, Damar, and Gul Garak all simultaneously turned onto Major Kira brought her abruptly out of her stunned silence.

            “You’re sick! All of you!” She bolted up from her chair, obviously intending to storm huffily from the premises, but predictably it was Dukat who restrained her. “Let me go!” she shrieked at him, pulling violently free and fleeing the bar. Dukat’s lusty laugh followed her all of the way out of the establishment.

 

            The next morning in ops, Kira raged, her anger not only not diminished by the hours since the public spectacle, but actually still increasing exponentially. When Dax had finally had enough of her fuming and ranting, she had to nearly drag her into Sisko’s briefly vacant office.

            “All right,” Jadzia told her in her best soothing tone. “Admittedly, it was a rather embarrassing scene.”

            “It was a humiliating debacle!” the Bajoran roared at her.

            “Fine,” the Trill accepted the contradiction with equanimity. “But everyone knew that you were not the sleaze; you came across as an elegant, dignified lady. And the three men were absolute simple brutes; everyone could see that. So you needn’t feel ashamed.”

            “That’s not it,” Kira agonized.

            “Then what is?”

            “I feel violated…even though I wasn’t. That cheap slut gave me to Dukat, even without my actual presence. For so long he’s been after me, and now, in a real sense, he’s had me, without my even being involved or consulted. Because, like it or not, she’s me, genetically, physically. She’s given him – I’ll use an ancient term – ‘carnal knowledge’ of me. And it was completely beyond my participation, permission, or control!”

            Dax stared at her long and hard, until finally it was Kira’s turn to demand, “What???”

            “You do feel left out, and as if you missed something! Dukat was right! With him pursuing you all of this time, you both had to wonder what it would’ve been like to actually become lovers. And now he knows, and you don’t! You feel cheated!”

            “How dare you?!”

            “Furthermore, your counterpart was able to let herself go, dare to take on three Cardassians together – a very handsome three, I might add – something that you’ve told yourself that you can never allow yourself to do, because of the way that they treated your people; you can’t bear to become ‘a collaborator.’ So she’s having all of the fun, and you have to be the one who’s left to play the martyr, and all because of the Occupation, over which you had no control. You envy her!”

            “I don’t have to sit here and listen to this!!” Kira moved to rise, but Dax shoved her roughly back into the seat.

            “No, but you do have to face the truth in the privacy of your own thoughts! Lie to me all you want, but don’t lie to yourself!”

            “You’re insane!”

            Dax adopted a more congenial, sympathetic, persuasive tone. “Nerys, there’s nothing wrong with admitting to yourself that random chance dealt you the dirty end of the deal. Face it; her life has been a lot more ‘fun’ than yours. She’s the self-indulgent Kira, and you’re the duty-bound, responsible one. It’s far more grueling to stand by high-minded, lofty principles, than it is to just coast from one hedonistic pursuit to another. Intendant Kira can give in to Dukat and the others without shame, whereas you would agonize forever over what you would perceive as your ‘fall from grace’ if you did so. Up until now, you’ve been able to tell yourself that you were punishing Dukat, by depriving him at least as much as you were depriving yourself, but now the Intendant has cheated you out of even that. Now, he’s no longer being deprived, but you still are, by your own decree, and it’s only natural that you would resent it. How could you do otherwise? Of course it would be so much easier for you to follow the more enjoyable, more instinctive path, and to just banish the intellectual principle, which sooner or later grows tedious and tiresome.”

            Subdued and visibly miserable, Kira asked her, “Are you saying that you would give in to those three men, let yourself go, heedless of the consequences?”

            “I’m not you,” Dax responded diplomatically, “and my background and choices are not similar to yours.”

            Kira shook her head. “Lose my self-respect…??”

            “I wouldn’t lose it. But then, I didn’t have your nightmare-childhood, and I’ve never had to set your kind of goals. For as long as you’ve known me, I’ve always been somewhat pleasure-oriented. You told me once that my taste in men scares you: Klingon, Ferengi, Gallimite…. If I didn’t have Worf, I would be hard-pressed to resist the Cardassians’ charms, particularly those of Dukat, Garak, and Damar.”

            “You really find Cardassians, those Cardassians, attractive???” Kira’s expression was as mystified as if she’d been asked to believe that gravity pushed up instead of pulled down to the surface.

            Dax smiled gently, assuredly. “You know that they are; you don’t need me to tell you that. Just see them objectively, instead of through a haze of hate and fear.”

            “But that’s the only way that I ever have seen them.”

            “Then it’s time for a new perspective. Look, admittedly, one-third of your life was ruined by pain and terror and loathing and deprivation, and you can’t change that. But do you really want to ruin the remaining two-thirds of it that way, too?”

            “Are you saying that the Occupation should be forgiven, just like that? And that now Bajoran women should just jump into the arms of Cardassian men, as if it never happened?”

            “I know that it can’t be that simple, especially since Cardassian men made sex with your women such a sore, awkward issue, with their rapes and family-hostage-holding coercions. I know that it’ll take time. But the healthiest solution is to let go of the bitterness as soon as you can.”

            The Bajoran was again shaking her head. “It’ll never happen. As you admitted, it’s too much of a sore spot; widespread Cardassian abuse made it so.”

            “It will happen,” the Trill countered persuasively. “Not in your generation, or in your daughter’s, if you ever have one, but in your granddaughter’s generation.”

            “Why???”

            “It’ll be the first generation not touched by either the Occupation, or the slow, trouble-fraught recovery. It’ll be a new, privileged generation just hitting its youthful, rebellious period, and tired of hearing ‘Grandma’ gripe about how dreadful the Occupation was, and of hearing ‘Mom’ complain of the long hard recuperation, as well as hearing how lucky today’s kids are not to have suffered either one. Those young girls will look at Cardassian boys with new eyes, and will consort with them, just to spite ‘Mom’ and ‘Grandma.’”

            Kira sighed very heavily. “How do you profess to know all of this?”

            Dax’s eyes twinkled. “I had my own rebellious period.” Then, she turned more serious. “And similar things happened more than once in my planet’s history, and in that of other worlds.”

            “Well, I could never bridge that gap.”

            “And I’m not criticizing you, or supporting the Intendant’s choices. I’m simply warning you that you’ll have a difficult, self-sacrificing route ahead of you; she who chooses ‘the high ground’ always does. Be ready for those obstacles, and be prepared for them to try to trip you. Don’t take them lightly, and don’t take for granted that they’ll be easy to sidestep, not even for you, no matter how strong and angry you are, and no matter that you’ve spent your whole life making such sacrifices. You are hurt by what the Intendant did, and that hurt will endanger your resolve; you’ll always need to be wary of that. And Dukat will always find new ways to be persuasive. You’re traveling a difficult, lonely path. It will never get easy.”

 

            With effort, Kira managed to avoid the Cardassians for days. Then, one evening, Gul Dukat himself rang for entry at the door to her quarters.

            “What do you want, as if I didn’t know? You and your friends have cleverly manufactured your own substitute for me, so why do you still need to bother me??”

            “Nerys…!”

            “Never mind; I really don’t want to hear it.” She retreated farther into her quarters, arms folded, and turned her back on him.

            Dukat entered only far enough for the door to close behind him, and sighed heavily. “Nerys, we have hardly replaced you. And besides, she’s gone.”

            Kira turned in surprise.

            “She knew all too well that it was only a matter of time until Garak – Gul Garak, that is – turned her over to Regent Worf, in order to ingratiate himself with that megalomaniacal despot. The Intendant had fun with us for a while, and then she disappeared, probably into hiding back in her own universe.”

            Kira’s lip twitched as she tried not to laugh. “She used you. Well, is Gul Garak angry?”

            “No. He’s not even really surprised. It seems that her desires have always been rather mercurial. And this wasn’t the first time that she’s leaped into and then out of his arms.” He dared to take one step closer. “Whereas I believe that a relationship with you would truly be a relationship, with all that that would imply.”

            “You’re right; it would.” But as hope clearly arose in his expression, she dashed it. “But it’s never going to happen, not with us. You already know all of the reasons, so don’t ask me to go through them again. You’ll have to be satisfied with your brief fling with my doppelganger.”

            Gul Dukat regarded her sadly for a moment. Then, he turned and walked despondently out of her quarters. Only after the door had slid shut did Kira let herself sigh with the regret that only she and Dax understood.