IN OVER HER HEAD
Although it may not appear to be, the following story is entirely fictional………………unfortunately………………………(I think).
Niviana
Hollander couldn’t believe that she’d won the contest! When she’d entered, it
had only been a wistful wish. She’d be one of millions of ladies, she was sure,
whose hope and devotion would be equally fervent. And yet she’d won! She felt
like Queen For A Day, Miss
Like millions of others, Nivie was a devout fan of Star Trek in general, and Deep Space Nine in particular. Like millions, she found the Cardassians handsome, overwhelming, and dashing. The powers-that-be of Star Trek were well familiar with this phenomenon, dating all the way back to the 1960s, and the Vulcan-mania inspired by the very first series to bear the name. Spock, Sarek, and their horde of charismatic, enigmatic, and titillating Vulcans had captivated a huge segment of the female populace. Those same powers easily recognized Cardassian-mania as being the latest form of this sort of devotion. In a very clever move, they instituted an unprecedented contest. The winner would be honored with a personal, home visit by the three actors who’d played Garak, Dukat, and Damar. Further, the three would be fully in makeup, in costume, and in character.
Now, trembling boneshakingly, Nivie truly wondered if she could handle it. She opened the door and there they were. Her mind froze, and she wondered if she was having a stroke. But then they smiled sympathetically, not one bit surprised by her panic, and she actually managed not to stammer or trip over her own feet.
They were calming and kind. Fully in character, when she’d deferentially addressed them as Gul, Legate, or Mister, they’d corrected her comfortably to just call them Dukat, Damar, and Garak, assuring her that it was not rude or disrespectful in their culture to do so.
In a
delightfully pleasant let’s-get-acquainted conversation, in which they’d
expertly very-nearly put her at ease, the three learned that she possessed the
complete visual record of every mission of the twenty-third century
“So you have the complete record of all those missions,” said Dukat. “Extraordinary! Of all the…humans…we’ve met, you’re the only one who’s missing nothing!”
Nivie nearly giggled; she knew that he’d been about to say “fans,” and had quickly substituted “humans,” as the in-character term. But then the full meaning of his statement sank in on her. “I’m the only one?? Really??? How can the others call themselves devoted…humans…?” She grimaced; they grinned. “Without that basic item,” she finished lamely.
Garak said, “Apparently, most just collect their favorite…missions.” He was careful to substitute “missions” for “episodes.”
Dukat suggested, “You could do us an inestimable favor, if you would.”
Her heart fluttered in joy at the opportunity to do anything important for them; surely every fan’s dearest wish was to make herself valuable and special in any way to her heroes. “Anything, of course! Please, name it!”
He smiled appreciatively. “We have heard that several of the missions of the Enterprise D and of the Voyager involved Cardassians, and we would like very much to see those visual records.”
She flushed with pleasure. “Oh, I would be only too thrilled and honored to show them to you! But, you realize, there are quite a few of them, and it will take no small number of hours to view them all.”
“That’s all right,” said Damar. “Officially, we’re to visit for a day. But we can certainly stay longer if we wish, and if you’re willing.”
Nivie greeted the idea with great enthusiasm, and promptly shared the first Next Generation Cardassian episode, “The Wounded.”
Perfectly deadpan, Dukat commented on the striking resemblance that his cousin, Gul Macet, bore to him. Nivie stifled a giggle; they were, of course, the same actor.
Garak was particularly struck by the scene in which Chief Miles O’Brien, then on the Enterprise D, sat in Ten Forward with a relatively sympathetic Cardassian soldier, and actually opened-up to him about his trauma in the Setlek 3 massacre, a topic on which he’d been decidedly reticent during his time on Deep Space Nine. Garak commented, “How revealing! But why, in all our time together on the station, couldn’t he have talked to me like that? Here, he’s told all of this to a complete stranger!”
“Perhaps that’s why,” Nivie said quietly. “It was easier because that man was a stranger; he had no stake in any relationship with him. With you, things were more complicated, especially since he didn’t want to make your mutual friend Bashir uncomfortable.”
Garak nodded slowly, still expertly feigning disappointment, but accepting it.
Dukat remarked, “I never did understand your affection for that naïve young human doctor. He was the exact opposite of you.”
“That’s why you found him so fascinating,” Nivie surmised. Garak winked at her, and she realized that they were kindly leading her to the answers, letting her be the one to figure out these things, trying to build her confidence. She marveled at their kindness in doing so. Egotistical, they clearly were not.
The three thoroughly enjoyed the episode, “Ensign Ro,” as well as Nivie’s comment as she dug out the DVD: “You thought Kira was a pistol; wait’ll you get a load of Ro!”
They got a particular kick out of their fan’s noticeably squirmy reaction to the badly-disfigured Bajoran Orta, a Cardassian torture victim.
“Sensitive, aren’t you?” remarked Damar, eyes twinkling. She could feel herself blush, but she could tell that they weren’t truly making fun of her; in fact, she had the distinct impression that they found her reaction quaint and perhaps cute.
But then came the awkwardness that made her genuinely tremble. She was looking through the piles of DVDs for the next apropos episode, when she mumbled softly, “Oh no. That one.”
“What’s wrong?” asked Garak. “What one?”
“Chain Of Command.” She couldn’t suppress a shudder.
“Tell us what’s bothering you,” said Dukat.
“This one is…difficult.”
“In what way?” urged Damar.
“Hard to take. Umm, for sensitive types like me.”
Garak’s face flashed with insight, and despite his general kindness, his expression grew momentarily diabolical, causing her to actually back up a step. Relishing her reaction, he grinned even more wickedly. “Let me guess: someone gets captured and tortured.”
All Nivie could manage was a mute nod.
Dukat couldn’t help smiling as well. “A Bajoran?”
She shook her head spasmodically. “Human.”
They all fought to keep from laughing at her; she was taking it all so seriously.
She forced the words. “One of the regulars, which made it even worse. And they went too far; it was too rough…too…hideous.”
Now, Dukat was grinning broadly. “One of the women?” He’d already lecherously noticed Troi and Crusher in previous episodes, keeping perfectly in-character, of course.
But if their purpose was to increase her squeamishness, which they apparently found so charming, that question backfired.
“No!” She frankly smiled in relief. “That would have been the only thing worse than what really did happen!” Then she sagged again. “Of all the men that it could’ve been, it was the worst choice! It should’ve been Worf; he would hardly have even cared!”
Knowing the Klingon well, they all laughed.
“Captain Picard is so refined, sophisticated, modest, extremely civilized, a very private man, even shy. He’s the exact opposite of Gul Madred in every way that two people can be the opposite of each other! For them to come together at all, let alone in this way, is vile!”
“Madred,” Dukat looked thoughtful, as if trying to recall a colleague.
“Pure evil,” she said.
“Like us.” He couldn’t help but smile.
“No. Not like you. Each of you is a magnificent mélange of good and evil; that’s what makes you so fascinating.”
“I don’t think that you could get Sisko or Kira to agree with you. They both pronounced me, at least, pure evil.”
“I know, but they’re wrong. If you were pure evil, you wouldn’t’ve spent so much time trying to convince Sisko and Kira that you’re not evil; you wouldn’t’ve cared what they thought. Also, if you were truly evil, you wouldn’t’ve tried to seduce Kira; you would’ve simply raped her, like so many of your compatriots did to Bajoran women!”
All three stared wide-eyed, surprised by her suddenly bold words. She blushed hotly. Suddenly painfully self-conscious, she muttered, “Well, anyway….” She pulled the disc from the case.
“I have a feeling that we’ll get a kick out of seeing you squirm.” Damar’s eyes sparkled, but not unkindly.
They did. When Gul Madred and two guards forcibly stripped Picard, she squeaked and cringed, eliciting chuckles. When Gul Lemec gleefully, sadistically told Riker, “We have Picard!” she whimpered and writhed in her chair; her three guests nudged each other and winked. By the time the episode was over, she’d ended up on the floor, curled into a fetal ball. She looked up to find them grinning playfully at her, until they saw the genuinely streaming tears; then they were shocked and somewhat concerned. But again embarrassed, she hastily straightened up, wiped brusquely at her face, and busied herself putting away the DVD.
Presently, it hit her that they were too quiet. She whirled. How had they gotten up so silently? Garak and Damar had come at her from opposite sides; now each restrained (pretended to restrain?) her by an arm, just as Gul Madred’s two guards had done to Picard. Dukat was directly in front of her, smiling cruelly (feigning a cruel smile?), like Madred.
“Oh no!! I even wondered if this episode would…give you ideas…if you were that inclined to tease someone! Oh, please don’t!!!” She scarcely even bothered to notice that she’d dropped out of the pattern of helping them to remain authentic, when she’d switched from saying “mission” to “episode.”
Dukat stopped and watched her calculatingly, as if trying to figure out something on meager evidence. From either side, Garak’s and Damar’s eyes narrowed, apparently for the same reason. New tears came to wet anew the dried stains, as she waited in fright.
After a moment, Dukat nodded shortly. “I’m going to assume that you’re not just a masochist who loves to beg, while we continue on mercilessly. A lot of fans do love to plead, and want us to play-act with them like that.” Obviously out of deference to her fright, he also no longer bothered to remain in-character.
Garak supported him. “The tricky part is knowing at what point the fan wants us to stop. We have to try to guess, and it’s not always easy.”
Filled with hesitation, and visible trepidation, Nivie asked, “Are there any fans that…don’t…want…you to stop??” Part of her clearly dreaded the answer.
Damar observed her frankly. “More than you might think.”
She began to shiver, so Dukat made light of it. “You should hear Worf and Martok tell about the fan who really wanted them to run him through with bat’leths. Of course, they had to make him settle for just being battered with the blunt ends instead.”
Damar grinned. “The one that gets me is that girl who wanted the Borg Queen to actually assimilate her. Even after she admitted that she knew that it was impossible, she still kept insisting, ‘Just use acupuncture to pretend!’” He laughed and shook his head.
Despite their best efforts, she was still uneasy. “What do you actually do…with the fans who aren’t cowards like me? What would you have done, if I hadn’t panicked?”
Garak regarded her very kindly. “Don’t be upset. You don’t have to do this.”
“I’m disappointed in myself. I mean, it’s not as if I haven’t fantasized….” She trailed off, and couldn’t face them. Gradually, she could almost feel their shrewd, analytical gazes on her again, their suspicions growing.
Dukat evidently decided it wise to answer the question that Garak had sidestepped out of consideration for her skittishness. “Obviously, the various torture techniques employed in episodes like we just saw are completely impractical, or way too drastic, to really use on even the boldest fan. So, though I am loathe to admit it, we most often borrow a method from the Vulcans.”
“The Vulcans?” She looked up, startled, at that, and even managed a wan smile at Garak. “You don’t like the Vulcans.” She was careful to conceal her own former, long-ago crush on Spock and Sarek.
He was smiling ruefully back at her. “No, but they have their uses. You know that nerve-pinch thing that they do, where the shoulder meets the neck?”
“Of course.”
“Well, it doesn’t really cause unconsciousness, naturally, but when it’s done good and hard, it certainly does hurt like the blazes. And, it doesn’t do any real harm. We most frequently use that on fans that want to live their fantasies with us. Our inspiration came from seeing the ‘Vulcans’ do it to their eager fans often enough, through the years.”
All three men were still studying her penetratingly. Dukat was watching her particularly intently as he said, “From past experience, I’d say that you’re wishing that you hadn’t stopped us, but that you’re feeling too timid and sheepish to say so. After all, it isn’t really proper for the victim to ask for torture, now is it?”
She gazed back at him wide-eyed, wordlessly.
“All right.” He seemed to have decided. “The safety-term or emergency-stop phrase is ‘Red alert.’ If you want us to stop for real, say that. If you don’t say exactly that, we won’t stop.”
“Oh…god.” Her arms were once again seized.
Damar said semi-teasingly, “Was that a ‘red alert’? If not, you’re in for it.”
Dukat made a dramatic show of slowly reaching for her shoulder as she watched, drawing out the suspense.
She whimpered, and her eyes winced nearly shut, but she refused to back out this time, and resorted to biting her lower lip to stifle all but her tiniest cries.
“Go ahead and yell, if you like,” Dukat said, even though his expression seemed to find her feeble, unconvincing attempt to be courageous endearing.
But his very first pinch forced a scream right out of her, the piercing shriek of someone who was not prepared for the level of pain that occurred. She stared at him in shock and horror.
He waited long enough to see if she would lose her nerve, and then he turned to Garak, and in his most sadistic voice, said, “You’re the torture expert, you pinch her other shoulder.”
Her eyes mutely implored Garak, but still she refused to say what it took to get out of it, so he proceeded. But shriek went all the way to screech as both shoulders were tortured at once.
Before she knew what she was doing, she was crying and begging, and they were evidently suspecting that they’d gotten hold of a masochist after all, until suddenly, Nivie remembered, and cried, “Red alert!! Help!!!”
Upon startled, immediate release from all sides, she instantly dropped to her hands and knees, sobbing. “I’m sorry! I just can’t take it anymore!! It hurts too much!!! And I think the fear’s as bad as the pain!!”
“It’s all right; we won’t hurt you anymore!” Garak hastily assured her, genuinely alarmed.
“Here now, take it easy!” Dukat urged, as he and Garak both knelt down beside her.
“I tried so hard! I didn’t want to disappoint you! But please don’t do any more to me!!”
“Is that why…?? Oh, no,” murmured Dukat. “We didn’t take into account for that possibility: that you might only be doing what you thought we wanted. We don’t often encounter that reaction.”
Her blurred eyes sought and found Damar. “Are you horribly disappointed that you didn’t get to…?!”
“Of course not! We were trying to indulge you!”
“At first, I thought so, but then I wasn’t sure, and believe me, no fan ever wants to disappoint her heroes, or have them decide that she’s their least favorite of all the fans that they’ve ever met!! I just couldn’t take that chance! Furthermore, I have truly fantasized about you in that way; I wondered about myself the same way that you wondered about me; I wasn’t sure that I didn’t want you to, or that I wouldn’t regret it forever if I chickened out on you!” She sank the rest of the way to the floor, once more curled into a fetal ball. “Oh why does it still hurt so much??? Please make it stop!!!”
“We can’t,” Garak said mournfully. “Try to take it easy. It’ll ease slowly.”
“You frightened me so badly!!! I think now I’m afraid of you for real!!!”
“No, no, don’t be,” Dukat encouraged her gently. “We were just playing it out with you, honestly.”
They stroked her hair and patted her arm, whatever comforting seemed sufficiently innocuous, until she finally sat up, quieter, but ashamed, her face red and drenched.
Garak gave her a sweet, tender smile, and tried to cheer her up with a gentle tease. “You wouldn’t last long in a real Cardassian torture chamber.”
“Believe me, I know!” She forced a faint smile of her own, and added, “And no one could keep a secret from you guys for long!” Her expression slid back to desolate. “Just please don’t be disgusted at me; I couldn’t bear it!”
Their kind, sincere smiles gave her all the reassurance that she needed.
She couldn’t help adding, “But you know what? Even though it’s still throbbing, I’m not sorry that we did this. I would have always wondered what it would’ve been like. The thrill was worth it.”
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