DMZ

(an alternate universe story set during the double episode 'The Maquis')

His head tilted back and he looked upwards through the feathery branches of the overhanging shade trees into a wide blue sky of astounding clarity. Beyond this transparent blue, so far above the planet's atmosphere as to be suspended in perpetual night, hung the Federation space station designated Deep Space Nine. Bariel was a frequent visitor, always a welcome guest of Commander Benjamin Sisko and more particularly of Sisko's first officer Major Kira Nerys. Bariel thought of them with affection; they and their colleagues had been an invaluable asset since the discovery of the wormhole through to the Gamma Quadrant, and whilst the alliance of Starfleet officers with Bajoran personnel had not always been a comfortable one it had certainly proved effective in the past.

The question was, however, how much further could they expect him to go?

The moment the runabout cleared the docking pylon Sisko realised that he had probably just made the worst mistake of his whole career. He'd made a few, but this one rated with his capital error in underestimating Jean-Luc Picard almost five years previously. He'd blamed Starfleet's senior Captain for all the deaths of innocents at Borg hands during the battle of Wolf 359, and in particular for the death of one otherwise insignificant human civilian by the name of Jennifer Sisko. His wife.

Well, he'd got Picard wrong - he'd learned that the hard way. They'd never be friends, but at least he'd learned to look the man in the face without snarling. He wished he could say the same for the man who sat in the co-pilot's seat of the runabout Mekong now, appearing as composed and at ease as if he did this job every day of his life. Even the fact that Sisko had taken the elementary precaution of disabling the co-pilot's flight control panel did not seem of the slightest consequence to his extraordinary companion.

"You are uneasy, Commander." Gul Dukat's tones were non-judgemental, almost friendly, but Sisko was not prepared to trust him any further than he could throw him.

"You bet I'm uneasy." The frank admission startled him momentarily; it was never a good idea to let one's enemy know one was afraid of him.

"Well, that's understandable. However we have a long journey to make together - at least six hours before we reach the Volon Colonies. Since I don't propose any violence towards you in that time, may I suggest that we make some small effort to relax and be...comfortable...together? Your friends call you 'Benjamin', I think?"

Sisko stared straight ahead, ignoring the winning note in Dukat's voice. "They do, but you can call me 'Commander Sisko'."

Rebuffed, Dukat shrugged and turned away. "As you prefer, although I must say it seems a shame not to accept the hand of friendship when it's offered. Well, if you say you can't then you can't, I suppose - but will you at least let me order something from the replicator for you? A little Cardassian raki, perhaps?"

"Cardassian raki?" Quark had mentioned it as the best liquor he had ever served, bar none, but Sisko had never to his knowledge tasted the stuff - nor had he ever been tempted to try it. "No. Thank you."

A scaled eyebrow-ridge lifted in amusement. "I'm sorry. You don't know what you're missing. You won't mind if I indulge, though? You can hardly expect me to sit still and keep quiet for the whole journey, surely?"

"Be my guest." Striving to keep the ironic edge out of his tone, Sisko did his best to recollect that the Federation and Cardassia were supposed to be friends these days; his own presence as the Commander of DS9 was living proof of it. In addition he was required to be a diplomat and to try and negotiate where an earlier generation of Starfleet Commanders would have shot first and asked questions afterwards, but it was sometimes very difficult to remember that. Some of Major Kira's perfectly natural revulsion towards the Cardassians and all their works had rubbed off on him along the way, and he was not about to make nice with even so charming a Cardassian as Dukat without putting up a struggle.

A charming Cardassian, he mused. Sounds like a contradiction in terms. It's not safe to trust that smile nor the tone of voice; he could coax a greyback from its lair, but it won't work on me.

The sabotage of the Cardassian freighter Bok'nor had brought the former Prefect of Bajor back to his own old headquarters on DS9 to investigate. Only the previous evening Sisko had returned to his quarters to discover Dukat sitting on his couch, drinking synthale from his replicator, making polite conversation and generally conducting himself just like any other casual visitor. Except of course that this was no casual visit. With Bajor and Cardassia officially at peace there was strictly speaking no reason for Gul Dukat not to drop in unheralded, but one did not take anything a Cardassian officer did at face value. Not if one wanted to keep one's life and command intact, at any rate.

Sisko had made it a point to ask a few pertinent questions of his Security team as soon as he had the chance. So far as anyone could tell his Head of Security Odo had been somewhat embarrassed by the occurrence, but as the shape-shifter had been off duty and in his liquid form at the time of the Gul's clandestine arrival Sisko didn't feel inclined to blame him. The humans and Bajorans who made up the rest of the Security complement were adequate but limited; the very notion of a Cardassian gaining access to DS9 and wandering about un-apprehended was quite beyond their comprehension. Obscurely it amused Sisko to contemplate their confusion; he hadn't questioned Dukat about the route he had taken from the cargo bay to the habitat ring but he could make some good guesses and he could only imagine there had been some extremely unobservant people on duty on that particular shift. Either that or they had firmly refused to believe the evidence of their own eyes and had allowed the Gul to pass unchallenged.

Dukat had left his seat and walked aft to place an order at the food slot. Now he was returning bearing a tall spiral glass bottle and a goblet filled with tawny liquid. As he passed Sisko the strong fumes of the alcoholic beverage assailed his senses.

"Phew! What's in that stuff?" he complained. "The smell reminds me of...old sweat socks!"

Dukat grimaced. "Really? I always thought it quite a subtle scent. It's a distillate of root vegetables, herbs and berries; a traditional drink of the military classes. Won't you try just a taste?"

The expression on the Cardassian's face said it all; the Starfleet coward was afraid even of a mild-tasting apéritif.

The implied reproof stung Sisko, and it was not until much later that he realised how smoothly Dukat had manipulated the situation. "Well, maybe just a mouthful," he conceded, accepting the glass.

It was surprisingly sweet, the taste nothing like the foul scent it gave off. The closest flavour Sisko could recall having tasted before was tea laced with honey, something he'd been addicted to as a child.

"It's good," he commended, handing the glass back.

"Take it," Dukat said, gently. "I'll get another. I don't see why, Commander, we shouldn't drink together in a civilised manner even if we are on opposite sides in most things. After all, now that our races are allies this is precisely what our various Governments are expecting of us - an end to hostilities."

Sisko shrugged. "I suppose so," he said, accepting the point grudgingly. "Well, if you insist...your health, Gul Dukat."

"Thank you, Commander."

Smiling, Dukat raised the bottle to his lips and watched, his piercing blue eyes alight with laughter, as Sisko drank his health from the glass.

After the first glass of raki Sisko knew he was beginning to relax. He had never had cause to spend much time alone with Dukat before and had not fully appreciated that the man could be quite entertaining. He knew that for all their martial demeanour Cardassians were fond of good food, good wine and good company, but had expected their small-talk to be limited to discussion of their military prowess and the depredation they had inflicted on their subject races. To his surprise the conversation ranged widely over subjects in which they could both take an interest, so that he scarcely noticed when Dukat poured a second glass of the foul-smelling brew for himself and added one for Sisko at the same time.

They discussed the places they had visited and the peoples they had encountered. Gul Dukat was almost as widely travelled as Sisko himself and there were a good many experiences they had in common. Discovering that his enemy was not all business - that his thoughts did not revolve entirely around the glory of Cardassia and his own personal advantage - was something of a revelation.

By the third glass they had got as far as their cultural differences - and similarities. They had covered music, and literature, and architecture, and had somehow worked their way around to telling humorous stories about their careers. Sisko was beginning to wonder why he had ever found this man so intimidating, why he had been uncertain about the wisdom of being cooped up in a runabout with him for hours on end with no other company. Surely no-one who could see a Cardassian officer in this expansive mood would ever be afraid of him? Even Kira would be sure to be bowled over by the man's amiability; he would have her eating out of his hand in no time.

The mental picture amused him and he chortled merrily, interrupting some quite pointless humorous story Dukat was telling about one of his hapless subordinates.

"...and until that time," Dukat finished with a mirthless chuckle, "it had never occurred to me that Delev knew how to procreate...with anything!"

Sisko wiped a tear of laughter from one streaming eye. "You know he wouldn't have lasted five minutes at Starfleet Academy," he said, cheerfully. "In fact I don't think he'd have gotten through the selection procedure."

Dukat's grin faded. "No. However Starfleet has not been at war for the last several generations. You can probably afford to be a little more selective whom you induct into your

military. We are obliged to accept whatever is available."

Sisko ran a hand around the close-fitting collar of his uniform and exhaled on a long sigh. "It's warm in here. Did you alter the environmental settings?"

One ridged eyebrow rose in mild amusement. "How could I? You made it quite clear I have no access to the computer."

"Well, I'm much too hot."

"Really?" Dukat seemed to digest this trivial remark with considerable gravity. "Human physiology never ceases to amaze me. I find the temperature quite pleasant."

Sisko shot a glare in the Cardassian's direction.

"Well I don't. I'm gonna go aft and take a shower," he said, belligerently, tugging at his uniform tunic.

"And leave me on the flight deck alone? Do you really consider that wise?"

"I never said anything about leaving you here. You'll have to go along with me. I want you where I can keep an eye on you, Dukat."

The magnetic blue eyes narrowed. "That's Gul Dukat - unless you want me to call you 'Sisko'? And if it matters that much to you, I'll come aft with you. I'll never be out of your sight. Will that satisfy you?"

Sisko considered this for a moment. He was aware that there were very good reasons for not trusting Cardassians - and this particular Cardassian especially - but they seemed quite irrelevant to him at the moment. He was hot and uncomfortable and could certainly use a shower, and if that meant he had to take Gul Dukat aft and watch him all the time it seemed a small enough price to pay.

"I guess I'll just have to take your word," the human told him gracelessly.

"So you will. A little more raki?"

Sisko wagged an admonitory finger in Dukat's direction. "Nuh-uh. I don't want to get drunk." He paused and thought about that some more. "I can't get drunk," he said, logically. "That's synthehol, it came out of the replicator."

"Then another would make no difference."

"Bring the bottle with you," Sisko told him, decisively.

There were small sleeping compartments aft, designed for use when the runabout was configured as a troop transport. They were minimalist areas with thin mattresses and sliding shutters for privacy, and doubled as sick berths when the runabout was used as an emergency medical facility. A neat little basic sickbay with functional operating suite could be rigged with relative ease, and there were also sanitary and food preparation areas of flexible configuration which could be used in a number of different ways. However the standard crew transport mode for humanoid types included a decontamination unit with real fresh water showers, and it was towards this Sisko now headed in some discomfort. By the time he reached the shower cabinet he had ripped off his black and red tunic and paused in front of the shower stall to haul his lilac polo-neck over his head and throw it down on the deck. He could always replicate another one if he needed it.

"Computer, shower water at 37 degrees Celsius."

The water started immediately, and Sisko shucked off the rest of his clothes quickly and stepped into the shower, ignoring the presence of the Cardassian officer. Gul Dukat stood back a moment, watching the shadowed form of the human as he stretched and luxuriated under the stream of warm water, and then turned away and with a smile of unholy glee on his sharp features began to strip off his own uniform.

Sisko grinned as the translucent panel slid back and the naked form of his old sparring partner stepped unconcernedly into the shower beside him.

"You spiked the drink," he chuckled, finding it hugely amusing and of rather more interest than the fact that he was no longer alone.

Warm water from the shower head flowed over human and Cardassian skin alike; Dukat minus his carapace of body-armour was a far less intimidating prospect, and Sisko had shared a shower with a buddy enough times not to care too much about having company. Sometimes those shared showers had turned into something a whole lot more interesting, too, and by the look of Dukat that was precisely what the man had in mind.

"Of course."

"Why?"

Dukat chose to sidestep the question. "It was nothing harmful," the suave tones of the Cardassian insisted. He was delighting in the sensation of the warm shower water striking the back of his neck and running down his ridged spine; his shoulders seemed to have lost some of their military stiffness as he relaxed into the stream. Just one more thing they had in common, Sisko noted; a mutual delight in unwinding after a tough day.

"You didn't answer the question," he observed, mildly.

"Just a few drops of soval to relax you, to remove your inhibitions and make you more...receptive...to a sexual advance. I could have forced you," Dukat pointed out in a tone that made his actions seem like a great favour bestowed, "but I chose not to. It's our way," he explained, winningly.

"I know. Sex with the enemy is a warrior's privilege." The textbooks suggested that this particular Cardassian cultural trait had been suppressed by order of a puritanical element in the Government party some three hundred years previously, but like some outmoded human customs it was apparently proving rather stubborn.

"It helps us to...understand and appreciate exactly whom we are dealing with," Dukat told him without a hint of self-justification in his tone. "Cannibal races honour their opponents' spirits by eating their flesh. I think our way is better."

"It's certainly less permanent - and it has to be more fun," Sisko acknowledged, watching the way drops of hot shower water rolled along the sharp ridges of Dukat's exposed collarbone and across the silver-grey scaled flesh of his chest and belly. Xenoanatomy classes never truly prepared you for seeing an alien race naked; even their holographic projections lacked the three-dimensional presence of a living, breathing being up close and personal. Besides, holographic projections only had whatever intent had been programmed into them; even naked, Dukat was still unpredictable enough to be dangerous.

Sisko shivered; 'dangerous' didn't even begin to describe the situation he was in - naked and vulnerable and in the power of his enemy. Setting aside the little matter of the drugged drink, too, this was something he'd brought upon himself in no uncertain terms. He was faced with the choice of either fighting for his virtue or giving in to the Cardassian. He had the feeling that he could probably refuse and escape with his life intact, and such was the contrariness of human nature that refusing was the last thing on his mind. While his brain said one thing, it was quite obvious that his groin was of another opinion altogether - that he might as well go with it and enjoy it; a chance like this would not be likely to come around again.

"Turn around," the Cardassian said. "If you struggle it may be painful for you; if you are completely passive I will try not to hurt you."

Sisko stood for a long moment contemplating the suggestion. In fact he suspected he might not mind just a little pain, but he was damned if he was going to let Gul Dukat know that.

"What the hell?" he said, smiling broadly into the thin alien face. "Why don't you do what you have to do?"

An hour short of the Volon Colonies there was trouble. Sensors picked up a lone Federation trading vessel under attack from two small, fast-moving Cardassian scout craft. The Federation ship ignored Sisko's hail, the two Cardassian ships proving similarly deaf to Dukat's orders. Dukat leaned familiarly - even intimately - over Sisko's shoulder, gazing intently at the action on the viewscreen ahead of him, and Sisko struggled to bring his dazed senses back under his control. The effects of the soval were wearing off rapidly and in their wake had come a distinct 'morning-after' queasiness together with a melancholy self-disgust he could well have done without. Not only that, but he was cursing himself fluently under his breath for doing anything that could reduce his own efficiency in a crisis.

Dukat was reaching across him for the photon torpedo launch control. Exactly right, Sisko realised. He should have resented what Dukat had done, but it was difficult when the man was proving such a valuable ally. If they weren't careful they were going to find themselves working as a team - and there was no telling where a crazy concept like that might take them.

Another Federation vessel, also failing to identify itself, appeared from nowhere and shot the two Cardassian ships out of the sky; Sisko and Dukat stared at one another without words, a communication of perfect clarity passing in the silence between them. There was the potential for the situation among the colonies in the Demilitarised Zone to get out of hand very fast, with renegade bands of Cardassians and Federation personnel killing one another as the fancy took them. Unless an awful lot of lives were to be lost, someone was going to have to put a stop to this - and there was no doubting that it must be Dukat and himself. Their own conflict, the readjustment of their personal battle-lines, would have to wait; for the foreseeable future it was going to be necessary for them both to be on the same side.

Arriving at the Volon Two community, they walked shoulder-to-shoulder into the middle of a riot. A group of Federation settlers led by Starfleet attaché Commander Calvin Hudson - a close friend of Sisko's from way back - were facing off against a group of Cardassians under Gul Evek, each side blaming the other for the recent incident. A Federation colonist from Volon Three - a member of the terrorist group calling itself the Maquis - had admitted, under Cardassian torture, to sabotaging the Bok'nor. Unfortunately for all concerned the man was now dead, and Gul Evek was suggesting he had committed suicide. It was enough to provoke one of the colonists to attack Evek, a foolhardy move indeed in a room full of armed Cardassians. Sisko hastened to take command of the situation, instructing Dukat to get his people out of there quickly. To Sisko's mild astonishment Dukat had obeyed without demur, leaving Sisko and Hudson to survey the damage the unpleasant scene had caused to diplomatic relations in the Demilitarised Zone - and Sisko to wonder just where this alliance with Gul Dukat might be leading.

Returning from Volon Two, Sisko put the Mekong on auto-pilot and glanced across towards his passenger.

"You know, unless we can find a way to stop them, those people are going to have a nice little war of their own running down there any day now," he said, rubbing a weary hand across his eyes. "Damn, I'm tired."

A glittering gaze watched him. "Not without reason. However I believe we have succeeded in making some sort of impression on them. I would think it fair to say," Dukat added, with an edge of amusement, "that our appearance caused some consternation. The colonists were not expecting the Commander of DS9 to arrive with a Cardassian escort."

"Nor was your friend Gul Evek," Sisko reminded him, with a grim smile.

"Ah. Evek is a man without humour," Dukat said, thoughtfully. "He will probably query my presence with Central Command."

"Will that cause you trouble?"

"I doubt it. But how interesting that you should ask."

"Is it?"

"One might almost think you were concerned for my welfare - yet naturally even an honourable man such as yourself has little sympathy to spare for a Cardassian...opponent."

"I'm concerned for your welfare," Sisko conceded irritably, "because just at the moment you're a valuable ally. I need you to help me stop our people killing each other in the Demilitarized Zone. Don't take it personally."

"No? And I was so sure that by handling you gently I wouldn't incur your enmity."

Sisko turned and glared at him, dark eyes flashing with anger. "Maybe you shouldn't go around drugging people into having sex with you if you don't want to incur their enmity," he said, more harshly than he had intended. "Maybe you should have let me make the decision for myself."

A hollow laugh of derision from the Cardassian. "Oh? And of course you would have agreed instantly? I thought not," seeing the discouraging expression on Sisko's face. "I merely drugged you in order to gain your co-operation; you can't imagine the damage you could have suffered if you'd fought me."

"Oh yes I can." Actuality footage of Cardassian rape victims had been available during his briefing for the DS9 posting. Of course they'd all been dead, and some of them must have fought like tigers. In most cases, however, it hadn't been so much a question of a warrior acquiring carnal knowledge of his enemy as of a victor exploiting his power over the vanquished. Maybe that was what made Dukat different from other Cardassians - that the slaughter of his foes was a means to an end rather than an end in itself. Sisko didn't see how that was much of an improvement.

"I used no violence on you. In fact, I made quite sure you enjoyed the experience," Dukat reminded him, mildly. "If you are unable to forgive me for that, Benjamin, it says rather more about your character than about mine. Your people don't have the cultural taboos about sex with males that mine have; I hardly expected to be your first."

"You weren't," Sisko conceded. "But none of the others found it necessary to drug me."

"None of the others," Dukat pointed out, "were Cardassian."

"No. No, they weren't."

Their return to DS9 could hardly have been considered triumphant or even especially convivial, but stepping onto the Promenade from the turbolift brought a new set of difficulties Sisko could not possibly have imagined. He was just discussing accommodation assignments with Dukat when he glanced up and was bemused to see the smiling face of Vedek Bariel as that young man approached him from the direction of the Bajoran shrine. Sisko's eyebrows rose in sheer astonishment, which was doubled by the fact that Bariel's smile was directed equally at the Cardassian at Sisko's side.

"Commander Sisko. How pleasant to see you again."

"Vedek Bariel - this is an unexpected visit. Are you acquainted with Gul Dukat of the Cardassian Second Order?"

"Not personally, but I once had the honour to be sentenced to hard labour in one of his ore processing facilities. Gul Dukat."

The Cardassian's head tilted to one side and he regarded the Vedek through slitted eyes as though trying to decipher his motives.

"Vedek...Bariel? Well, I sentenced more than ten thousand people to work in ore processing at various times," he said frankly. "I don't recollect your name or your face. However very few of the ten thousand considered it an honour."

Bariel's mood could not be dented. "I learned from the experience," he said, firmly. "It was that which confirmed me in my decision to become a monk."

"And now you are a Vedek you consider me responsible for your career progression? An interesting point of view," Dukat told him drily.

"We all benefit from adversity," Bariel told him, with a smile. "Commander, I wanted to advise you that I have brought the Orb of Prophecy to the station's shrine for the benefit of the Bajoran civilian workers here. Some of them have been rather too long without spiritual guidance; I really wish we were able to provide them with a permanent priest of their own, but just at the moment all our people are needed in the communities on the surface. However the Vedek Assembly has agreed that I should make the station my own personal responsibility, and I hope to visit on a regular basis in future."

"You'll always be welcome," Sisko told him, benevolently, wondering what in the name of wonder Bariel thought he was doing mentioning the Orb in front of Gul Dukat when he knew perfectly well that it was every Cardassian's desire to get his hands on that particular spiritual artefact. Having robbed Bajor of everything that might conceivably have been of value, the Cardassians were now intent on capturing the Orbs of the Prophets and turning them to their own purposes. Indeed, Dukat had been listening attentively to the conversation and had obviously absorbed the fact that the Orb was present on this very station with some delight.

"How fascinating," he said, smoothly. "I should like to be able to examine this Orb; I've heard a great deal about it."

Bariel's friendly mood did not alter in the slightest as he replied cheerfully: "I'm sorry, Gul Dukat, that won't be possible. The Orb is reserved for the private prayer and reflections of the Bajoran people unless by prior agreement of the ruling Kai, and currently there is no Kai. It will be under guard in the shrine and I must ask you not to approach it."

"If that is your wish," Dukat replied civilly, with his cobra's smile, and with Bariel's equally polite half-bow of acknowledgement the matter was closed.

Sisko paused long enough to get a meal and a fresh uniform in his quarters before reporting to Ops to discuss with Kira how things had been going in his absence. If she resented the fact that he had brought her former nemesis to the station as his guest she did not allow it to show; instead her huge eyes were alight with pleasure at the presence of her lover Bariel on DS9, and - fortunately for Sisko's peace of mind - she seemed to regard Dukat's visit as an unavoidable if slightly unpleasant occurrence.

"Why did Bariel have to bring the Orb aboard right now, though?" he asked her in some confusion. "His timing could definitely be improved."

"The Prophets directed it," she said confidently. "He's always understood their wishes, Commander; I'd never question one of Bariel's visions."

Sisko's lips curved in amusement, but he suppressed his mild cynicism. Certainly Kira was in love with Bariel, but just as certainly she also had a very clear picture of his faults as well as his qualities. If she said his visions were to be trusted, then Sisko would trust them.

"I can't pretend it's the best time, with Dukat on the station as well."

Exasperated, Kira nodded. "I agree with you. But we couldn't have known you'd bring him back with you, Commander. In fact we didn't even know he was here in the first place."

"True. Only you'd have thought Bariel's visions would warn him against bringing the Orb into danger..."

This pregnant statement was destined never to be completed. At that moment a comm-link bleep interrupted their conversation, and the panel on Sisko's desk announced: "Security to Ops."

"Ops, Sisko. What's your problem, Velda?"

Security Deputy Velda Kareem's voice was agitated. "Commander, we've got a drunken Cardassian loose on the Promenade - with a phaser. No-one's been injured as yet but we need every pair of hands we can get to stop him killing somebody. Permission to take the guards off the shrine? It is locked."

"Where's Odo?" Sisko asked, glancing around at Kira.

"Off duty," she said. "Probably in his liquid form."

Sisko turned back to the panel. It was amazing how often, just lately, Odo had been off duty when he was needed most, but the man had to rest sometimes and for those with mayhem in mind working out his cycle was not much of a problem. "Take the guards off the shrine," he said. "Put them back the moment the emergency's over. And get Vedek Bariel to check that everything's secure."

"Yes, Commander," Velda said sharply, and ended the communication without further ado.

Stepping silently from a darkened doorway in an access corridor a little way off the Promenade, Gul Dukat smiled to himself at the success of his rather basic distraction ploy. Contacting Garak - the station's Cardassian clothier - and 'persuading' him on the strength of a little unfinished business that it would be a good idea to drink to excess in Quark's Bar and make a general nuisance of himself at the opposite end of the Promenade to the shrine had not proved difficult, any more than entering access codes into the door lock did now. It was a little short-sighted of the Bajorans not to have changed the locks since the occupation, but he supposed they had other things on their minds. Either that or they had not fully appreciated that he knew how to trip every lock on the station by using either the codes or bypasses he'd had built in during his tenure here. He'd been in command a long time. He knew things about Terek'Nor that would take Sisko a lifetime to learn about the re-named Deep Space Nine.

Sisko. Now, that had been a surprise - yet it was always interesting to see what a drop or two of soval could do to a man. He couldn't honestly understand why so many Cardassian interrogators preferred bloodthirsty tortures when a simple chemical compound could be just as effective. True there were some races that could block out the effects of soval, and physical torture usually worked in the end, but for quickness, convenience and a nice clean result Dukat preferred drugs every time. And soval made interrogation such a pleasant experience for both parties; the prisoner laughed and joked as he gave away his secrets, the captor sometimes had the opportunity to use his victim for sex before allowing him to die. In fact, given the melancholy after-effects of the drug, most of those questioned under soval were only too glad to die afterwards; the suicidal depression that set in after the phase of manic delight was usually too much for their bewildered systems to withstand.

Of course the dose he'd given Sisko hadn't been anything like that strong, but he'd been curious to see what effect a 'recreational' dosage of soval would have on someone who always seemed so buttoned-up, so formal and lacking in any capacity to experience pleasure. He hadn't really expected it would lead as far as a sexual encounter, but he had hoped it might. It gave him a distinct edge over Sisko to know how easy it was to turn the man into a wanton, writhing, formless mass begging to be penetrated; he'd enjoyed himself thoroughly with Sisko's body, and if he had taken the time to ensure that Sisko too was satisfied it was only because he took a pride in doing everything thoroughly and without error. Besides, the knowledge that he had enjoyed the encounter would be a sharp reminder to Sisko in the future; he could scarcely rationalise it away as a drug-induced quasi-rape if he had taken such pleasure in it himself. That gave Dukat yet another little hook into Sisko's flesh that he could tug upon if he needed to; once again he had gained the advantage over the dark-skinned human.

The shrine was deserted. As Dukat had expected, the Orb of Prophecy was set up on an elegant stand at the far end of the large room, and the Bajorans had decorated the temple as for a festive occasion with special tapestries hung behind the Orb and masses of flowers and green plants in tubs framing the tableau. All very elegant and artistic in that somewhat sickly-sweet way the Bajorans had, he thought dismissively. What could you expect of an agrarian people but homespun tapestries and tributes of vegetables? The Cardassian spirits, when his people had bothered with them, had all been martial ones preaching of fire and conquest; he could not imagine worshipping any deity that bleated about peace.

He walked forward confidently, reaching the Orb and throwing open its protecting doors. Since he could not hope to get the thing off the station in the midst of the present crisis he must simply study it to the best of his ability in situ and report back to the Scientific Committee of Cardassian Central Command whatever he managed to discover.

A smile curled across his lips as the light from the Orb bathed him. He knew it was generated by the crystal at its heart, and he knew that the secret of this particular light would be of immeasurable value to his people. It was indeed completely fascinating, demanding that he focus his eyes upon it and be drawn into the vastness of its depths. It was light of a peculiar quality and brilliance, at once soft and attractive and yet at the same time, perhaps, even to a Cardassian just a little...intimidating. It filled his eyes, wrapped him and surrounded him...

... it transported him ...

... himself again, naked and content, lounging in a chair and laughing happily down into the dark brown eyes of an equally naked Sisko - who sat at his feet with his arms resting on Dukat's knees and laughed back at him...and a feeling of sheer delight in Sisko's presence that welled through him and threatened to slip away again like the restless wave that touches the seashore and then retreats forever ...

... and the doors of the Orb of Prophecy slammed shut of their own accord and Gul Dukat found himself standing well away from it at the far end of the temple, rubbing his eyes in disbelief and astonishment.

Incredible. It was merely a box that contained a glowing crystal, yet by some hypnotic trick it had filled his mind with images that alternately thrilled and horrified him, with hopes and fears he could not readily assimilate. He'd had Sisko aboard the Mekong, and without a struggle too, but in their coupling there had been nothing of the languid mutual enjoyment he'd seen in the Orb. Could that have been a prediction of the Bajoran prophets? Yet what would they be doing sending their visions to one of the Cardassian oppressors? And in that case what of the other visions - of the attacks on him by Sisko with a knife and Kira with a phaser? And what of Sisko chained and dying by inches at the hands of an unknown Cardassian torturer? Or was this a vision of Cardassia avenging the death of Gul Dukat? And, since his own death and the vengeance of his people could scarcely be followed by another occasion of sexual pleasure with Sisko, in what sequence should the visions be interpreted?

Still that silent and anonymous Vedek remained, aloof and alien at the back of his thoughts, a wordless warning that haunted him even as he sought to recapture that fleeting feeling of joy he had experienced when the laughing eyes of Benjamin Sisko had turned in his direction ...

He turned, stumbling, dragging leaden feet towards the exit to the Promenade. The sounds of pursuit had died away and the guards would no doubt be returning to the shrine at any moment. Somehow he must get himself back to his guest quarters unobserved. No doubt the Bajorans would detect that someone had been in this place examining the Orb, but he was sure he could bluff his way out of any questions Sisko might care to put to him.

Why, Commander, he would say, I was resting in my quarters. After our...voyage...in the runabout I was quite worn out. I'm sure you can understand that ...

As the doors closed behind him the Bajoran shrine remained in absolute silence for a moment, and then with the merest whisper of sound one of the russet and ochre tapestries behind the Orb distorted and dissolved, dripping down in a long slow fall to rest on the floor and reconstitute itself into a humanoid form - a humanoid that had what could very possibly have been a smile upon what might well have been its face.

With the panic over Garak's drunken aberration dealt with and the Cardassian tailor sleeping off his excesses in the Security cell, Sisko returned to his quarters exhausted and made no attempt to contact Dukat. He was busy trying to calm his own emotional maelstrom and get his world back into proportion, and he didn't think another encounter with the Cardassian just yet was going to help much.

Glancing at his son Jake as that young man returned after hanging around the cargo bays with Quark's nephew Nog, Sisko had to make a concerted effort to suppress an upwelling of guilt at what could too easily be seen as a betrayal of Jennifer's memory. It was a whole lot more complicated even than that, though. He had never been able to consider sex as solely a biological function to be indulged in at need, enjoyed briefly, and then forgotten; for him, it always had emotional implications, and he needed time alone and peace and quiet to sort them out.

He lay awake long into the night, conjuring mental images of himself and Dukat aboard the Mekong. Those who said Cardassian skin was cold and damp to the touch were mistaken; Dukat's flesh had been warmer than his own, and when Sisko's errant fingers had accidentally strayed across his sensitive neck-ridges the man had been almost paralysed with delight. Dukat unclothed was angular, lithe, reptilian, of reassuringly familiar humanoid conformation yet alien enough to be interesting. Had the approach been made under anything like the right circumstances Sisko could well have agreed to sex with him; it was not being given the choice that he objected to.

And yet nothing would convince him he'd merely been made use of by a member of a race of sadistic conquerors, although as the night wore on he began to wonder whether news of his capitulation was going to be circulated among the anti-Federation gossips in the sector. Naïvely, he supposed, he had never considered that he was committing an act that might have political consequences - at least, he had not thought beyond a quite natural Bajoran horror and revulsion. The worst that could happen to him was losing his command of the station, together with what little was left of his dignity, but if Dukat was inclined to make political capital out of an hour or so of mindless indulgence the damage could be infinitely greater.

But was the man who had proved to be a surprisingly considerate sexual partner capable of such exploitation? Looking back on their encounter now, Sisko could not be sure. Even in his sleep he was pursued by visions of Dukat, his black hair slicked down to his head by the shower, his exotic body fully naked and droplets of water clinging to grey skin, his questing hands moving over Sisko's compliant form. It could happen again, under other circumstances, and it would not take a drug to make Sisko want it this time. In fact he was finding it impossible to rid his mind of a desire to repeat the experience - desire that surfaced painfully in an unfulfilled tautening of his groin and an embarrassed sensation that Dukat's influence had reached him even in his own quarters and he simply could not shake free of erotic fantasies about sex with his enemy.

So what do I want? True love and promises of eternity? With a Cardassian? Get real, Sisko. That'll never happen. He was just experimenting.

However there had been something about it that was not just about curiosity, just as there had been something in Dukat's voice that told of a fascination that went beyond the anatomical.

It was more, he told himself. I am not a fool. I am not a Cardassian dupe.

Towards dawn, though, it became very difficult indeed to believe.

"Kira to Sisko." The brisk tones of the station's Bajoran first officer cut through Sisko's troubled sleep and he reached unseeingly for the comm panel by his bed.

"Go ahead, Major."

"Sir, I'm sorry to disturb you but you're needed in Ops. There's a problem on Level H."

"Level H?" The accommodation level to which he'd assigned Dukat. Through the fog of sleep Sisko wondered why the hell Kira hadn't come to his quarters to tell him in person, or sent Odo.

"Sir."

It was obvious the woman intended to say no more over an open comm-link, and Sisko couldn't really blame her. If Dukat was causing trouble, his ass would be off the station faster than he could blink and what had happened on the Mekong would be consigned to the dustbin of history. The fact that the Cardassian had been intimate with a human named Benjamin Sisko didn't mean he could also screw around with the Commander of DS9 and get away with it, Sisko told himself grimly, fully aware of the savage irony inherent in the thought.

He dressed quickly and made it to Ops in record time. Bashir and Dax were already there with Kira, Odo nowhere in sight.

Missing again, he thought. What the hell is going on here?

"It appears Gul Dukat's been kidnapped," Kira told him, calmly. "He's nowhere on the station, and we're assuming he didn't go voluntarily. The man we had guarding his quarters was distracted and knocked out by a human male in Starfleet uniform associated with a Vulcan female. Odo believes Dukat must have put up quite a fight as there's evidence a phaser was fired near Airlock 11; it seems likely he was taken off the station unconscious."

Sisko's heart sank, and somehow he stifled a groan. "The Maquis," he murmured wearily.

"It seems the likeliest hypothesis. We weren't routinely scanning for Cardassian life-signs on departing vessels but there are only a few possibilities; I'm checking the docking records now, and Odo's making a full sensor sweep of Dukat's quarters and the area near Airlock 11."

Bashir had been at the replicator slot in Sisko's office, and returned to main Ops with a beaker of coffee which he placed in front of the Commander. One slightly raised eyebrow interrogated Sisko and the Commander, annoyed at having to be beholden to Bashir, scowled furiously at him.

"As soon as we narrow it down to one possibility we'll take a runabout and get after them," he said. "Kira, Bashir, you're with me; Dax, you're in command."

Chief O'Brien's analysis of the evidence quickly established that a vessel identifying itself as a Galador freighter must have been the ship on which Dukat was removed from the station. Its stated destination had been Ferrius Prime but it had never arrived there, and the logical conclusion was that it had entered the Demilitarised Zone. This meant Dukat could be on any one of a number of planetoids in a region of the Cardassian-Federation border known as the Badlands. Pursuing this lead, the runabout Rio Grande with Sisko, Kira and Bashir aboard scanned the target area for Cardassian life-signs and came up empty.

"However this is where the freighter's warp signature was headed," Bashir concluded, "so it's reasonable to suppose we'll find the Maquis on the planet."

"Well, let's 2just hope we can persuade them to tell us what they've done with Dukat," Sisko told him levelly. "If we don't get him back and clean out the Maquis this quadrant's gonna go to War and our butts'll be in a sling."

Monitoring the computer's output as they drew towards transporter distance gave Sisko something to do while his brain disengaged and dwelt instead on the past. Not, this time, on the recent hour of intimate pain/pleasure on the Mekong but instead on the first time he had met Dukat. Looking back at the extraordinary first few days of his tenure as Commander of DS9 he could see that he'd started out by loathing Jean-Luc Picard with a passion that left him no room for hating or despising Cardassians. When Dukat had walked, so calmly, into the former Prefect's office only hours after Sisko had first occupied it, Sisko had felt no threat. He had been perfectly polite to the Gul, and the Cardassian in turn had been perfectly polite to him. In fact Dukat had displayed a dangerous alien charm which had almost seduced Sisko on the spot - metaphorically speaking. Recalling now the way Dukat's eyes had twinkled with devilment as he wove teasing words around the Starfleet officer, Sisko could hardly help wondering if the Cardassian had formed in that moment the resolution to have sex with him at the earliest possible opportunity.

He shook his head. A kidnap and rape would certainly have been the usual style of Dukat's people, but if the Gul had made up his mind back then he'd awaited his opportunity with exemplary patience.

The way of a cat with a mouse, he thought, and turned sharply to catch Bashir watching him with raised eyebrows.

"Within transporter range, Commander," was all the doctor said, and Sisko refrained from further comment and confined himself to giving the order to beam down to the planet.

Commander Calvin Hudson, Starfleet's man-on-the-spot and Sisko's friend since Academy days, stood with the Maquis on the planet's surface and levelled a weapon at the three DS9 personnel.

"If you knew what the Cardassians had done to these people, how they've raped their planets and subjugated their colonies, you'd join us, Ben," he said softly, persuasively, but with that edge of madness in his tone which Sisko had encountered before in officers seduced from their duty by some cause or another. Starfleet was not a prison; a man could resign whenever he chose and follow his own particular path, but he should never - as Cal Hudson had - use his uniform and his contacts to bend Starfleet resources to some personal crusade.

Sisko winced at the conjunction of the words 'Cardassian' and 'rape'. "However righteous the cause, terrorism can never be justified," he told Hudson, rationally. "Cardassians too have wives, children, people who will mourn their deaths." Dukat had admitted to being the father of seven children; that meant at least eight people to mourn his passing - and possibly even nine.

"One man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter," Hudson quoted, a smile of gentle irony playing on his dark features. "And do the Cardassians consider our wives and children when they attack us?"

"Someone has to call a halt, Calvin. What have you done with Dukat?"

"He's not here."

"I know that. Where is he?"

But he had not received an answer. The Maquis had phaser-stunned Sisko, Kira and Bashir and fled the planet ahead of their wrathful awakening.

Returned in ignominy to the space station some hours later, Sisko was faced with a visit from Legate Parn of the Cardassian Central Command. Expecting a spectacular firework display of Cardassian rage, Sisko was met instead with cool politeness that amounted almost to disdain. Gul Dukat simply was not a subject of concern to the Legate; he was a renegade who had smuggled weapons to Cardassian colonists in the Demilitarised Zone, and the Maquis were welcome to him. Kira, listening, was exultant; Sisko was well aware that her help in searching for Dukat had only been grudgingly given - she couldn't give a damn whether they found him or not. When Parn had left the station, she could barely conceal her glee.

"We're off the hook," she announced, delightedly. "The Maquis can do whatever they like with Dukat, it's out of our hands."

Sisko watched her detachedly. "It isn't as simple as that, Major," he told her, slowly. "There's no way Dukat was behind the smuggling of those weapons."

"It doesn't matter, though, does it? The Maquis have him..."

"...and the Federation colonists and the Cardassian colonists will just go ahead and kill one another until there's nobody left in the sector. That isn't my idea of justice, Kira. No, if Central Command aren't going after Dukat, it's up to us."

"You'd risk your life...for a Cardassian?"

"If he's been smuggling weapons then he's got to answer to the Federation. If he hasn't - someone's set him up to take the fall. That won't happen while I can do anything to prevent it."

He did not add that he was beginning to suspect he had more in common with a member of the race that had enslaved Bajor than with his own closest friend of many years' standing - that in a crisis he suspected he would trust Dukat ahead of Calvin Hudson - that it was more than merely common-sense and expediency that drove him to discover Dukat's location and rescue him.

"The Gul and I have unfinished business," he said, and left Kira Nerys to make what she could of this gnomic utterance.

Odo's investigations into the presence of a Vulcan female aboard DS9 had brought him to Quark's establishment - and shortly thereafter had brought Quark to Odo's establishment where he was currently imprisoned in the cell recently vacated by Garak.

"Her name's Serkona," he told Odo, the wistfulness of reminiscence in his tone. His dinner date with the Vulcan woman had been an experience and a half, right up until the time she had offered to buy a large consignment of weapons from him. Naturally although he did not deal in weapons himself he had been able to supply her with a contact who had been only too happy to oblige. With this unexpected association coming hard on the heels of his reunion with his Cardassian former lover Natima Leng, the Ferengi was beginning to feel that his luck with women was finally improving - even though he still could not persuade Jadzia Dax of his imagined charms. That Serkona was about as unscrupulous as he was himself only added to her attraction.

"Where would she have taken Gul Dukat?"

Quark shrugged. "I wouldn't know. What's it matter, anyway?"

Sisko stepped closer to the force-wall and glared down at the mis-shapen troll. Whatever had that supremely elegant Cardassian woman seen in him? Was it merely compulsive sexual adventuring, or could a Cardassian love a Ferengi?

Or was the question he was really asking himself whether a Cardassian could care for a human?

I have all the love and care I need from my 'family' here on DS9, he told himself harshly. I have no reason to seek anything at all from Gul Dukat. So why did I let him...touch me?

"My intention is to rescue the Gul and bring him back to DS9," he said dangerously. "If you're not with me on this, Quark, then you're against me. I guess it's time you choose sides. Bear in mind that if the Cardassians ever take this sector back and you didn't help Dukat, some of them might be extremely displeased with you." The remote contingency that Quark might be aware Central Command had disowned Dukat was dismissed rapidly from Sisko's consideration as he saw the expression on Quark's face. The Ferengi was imagining some of the legendary Cardassian torture and interrogation methods he had heard described; imagining himself their subject.

"I'll tell you everything I know," he hastened to assure Sisko, and ignored Odo's pointed remark that it wouldn't take too long to do that.

They took the Rio Grande again, but Odo replaced Kira on the mission. Kira remained in command of the station, Quark remained in the cell. This time to Sisko's quiet delight there were Cardassian life-signs to follow; strong, healthy Cardassian life-signs as Bashir made certain to inform him. They were in proximity with Vulcan and Bajoran life-signs, meaning that a small group of the Maquis held Dukat somewhere on the surface. Sisko, Bashir and Odo arrived just as Serkona was making a doomed attempt to perform a Vulcan mind-meld on Dukat. His eyes opened sharply and laughed into hers as she fell back in defeat.

"You people really are not very good at this, are you?"

His taunts provoked them. One hot-headed youth was about to start inflicting physical violence on the arrogant Cardassian when Sisko's controlled tones cut through the charged atmosphere.

"Release him immediately."

Sisko thought, afterwards, that he would never forget the moment when Dukat's piercing blue eyes lighted on him in that Maquis hideout. Dukat had been confident of rescue, but he had envisaged a dozen heavily-armed Cardassian warriors spraying death in all directions and not one enigmatic Starfleet officer carrying a hand-phaser on 'stun'. He spared little of his attention for Bashir and Odo, concentrating instead on Sisko and trying to make sense of his presence. The look he bestowed on the man told Sisko a great deal about the way things were between them, unacknowledged though it would remain. He had not been wrong to stake so much on his faith in Dukat.

Something had happened aboard the Mekong that neither had been aware of at the time, and both their lives had been altered by it. This was all a very long way from being over yet.

Back aboard DS9, Sisko could scarcely conceal the satisfaction he felt at having rescued Dukat from the Maquis. In truth, freeing the Cardassian had probably created more problems than it solved - Kira's pleas to him to let the Maquis have their way with Dukat were still fresh in his mind - but it felt good to have gone in there without an arm2y and got him away safely.

"You're looking remarkably pleased with yourself, Benjamin," Dax told him, catching him alone in his office after Bashir, Odo and Dukat had gone their separate ways.

"Am I? I guess I probably am. You know, old man, sometimes this job has compensations you just wouldn't expect."

"And rescuing Gul Dukat from the Maquis was one of them?" It always amused Jadzia when Sisko addressed her as 'old man'. Privately she believed he did it to remind himself that he and the Dax symbiont had a history that went back a long way - just in case he ever caught himself looking at her and seeing an attractive young woman where his old friend Curzon Dax had once been.

Sisko's eyes brightened. "Yes. You know, Dax, that man's going to be a valuable ally."

"And a valuable friend?" His thunderstruck expression was all the answer she received, but it was a full enough reply for her purposes. "Oh, Benjamin! I'd have thought you were the last person not to look beyond the surface! How long have we known each other? No, don't answer that. Just because a man is a Cardassian doesn't mean he can't be your friend, does it?"

He was silent a long time, remembering other conversations at other times and with another Dax. Then, without even stopping to think about whether or not it was wise, he found himself saying; "It's gone beyond friendship already."

Her eyebrows rose, and then she shook her head slightly and resumed her calm expression. "You mean that thing they have about sex with their rivals? Curzon did that a time or two, you know."

"He did?" Sisko could barely contain his astonishment.

Sisko shrugged. "I've always known you had a chequered history, old man, but you never cease to amaze me."

Dax's expression was demure; however colourful the symbiont's past, Jadzia was only prepared to acknowledge a small portion of it to Sisko.

"And you're trying to find a way to hate Dukat? Don't waste your time, Benjamin. What did he do - force you?"

"Nope. He drugged my drink."

She permitted herself a slight grimace of distaste. "So you didn't approve? It's not enough to go to war over. We need him, my friend. If that's the price you have to pay for his help, can you bring yourself to refuse?"

"What would Curzon have done?" he asked, with a look of anguish in her direction.

"You know what Curzon would have done," Jadzia told him sadly.

In the guest quarters on Level H, Dukat was making up for lost time by demolishing a meal of gargantuan proportions when Sisko called by to visit him. A tall spiral bottle of Cardassian raki sat by his right hand and he was working his way gradually through a selection of fresh fruit for dessert. He gestured for Sisko to be seated, and the Starfleet officer accepted and sat down where he could watch Dukat's face openly and without embarrassment. Give or take the feelings that roiled through his mind, this was as civilised and relaxed a scene as ever human and Cardassian had shared and Sisko was quite prepared to enjoy it while he could, for the news he brought Dukat would shatter the man's repose.

"I am...intrigued as to why you rescued me, Commander," Dukat confessed, pausing to send a warm smile in Sisko's direction. "Although of course I'm duly grateful - but surely Central Command have flooded this area with Cardassian personnel who needed little help from Starfleet?"

Ruefully, Sisko broke the bad news that Central Command considered him a renegade and had blamed the gun-running on him. The light vanished from Dukat's eyes as he stood and walked to the viewing port.

"That does put rather a different face on it," he conceded. "I will not be the scapegoat for Central Command."

Sisko sat forward and watched him with clenched hands and an overwhelming sympathy. To have shared what they had shared had forged a link between them which the difference in their political allegiances left unbroken.

"If I help you stop the smuggling, Sisko, will you help me stop the Maquis?"

"You have a deal."

It was said so intimately that it dragged Gul Dukat's mind back to the Mekong and to a closeness that ought not to have existed. His vision plagued him; had he lost the chance to bring that joyous expression to Sisko's usually solemn features? Or would reaching for him now bring down on him the awful wrath of the characters in the vision? He shrank from the vengeful knife-wielding Sisko, from the harpy Kira with her phaser, from the mysterious Vedek who could surely only be a metaphor for death - yet when every chance could be the last, he could scarcely afford to let an opportunity pass.

"You bear me no grudge, Benjamin?" The tone was deliberately sweet and conciliatory. Dukat did not turn but inclined his head unseeingly towards Sisko.

"None." The reply was level, cool, all business. "You will be at my staff meeting at nine tomorrow morning?"

"Certainly." As Sisko got up to leave, Dukat spun around towards him. "Thank you again ...for rescuing me."

Intrigued, Sisko paused in the doorway. "You would have done to same for me," he averred, believing it.

Dukat merely smiled, but in the quality of the smile was everything Sisko had learned of the man in that dangerous hour of shared vulnerability. There was, as there had always been, some mutual recognition in the looks they traded - and as the temperature in the room rose a perceptible degree or two Sisko took off down the corridor and headed for the turbolift, glad for once that he could plead duty as an excuse not to stay.

Once is a misfortune, Sisko, he told himself sternly. Twice would look very much like carelessness.

To their credit the personnel of the space station made no demur at the presence of a Cardassian at their strategy meeting. Certainly Kira's eyes were wide with astonishment and some of her remarks aimed at discomfiting Dukat, but he strolled through the meeting with an air of imperturbability Sisko could only envy. Indeed, it was a privilege to watch the famed Cardassian commander interacting in a most civilised fashion with DS9's senior staff.

"If I were smuggling arms into the Demilitarised Zone," he informed them mildly, "I would employ a Zeppelite Free Trader. We have often used them in similar instances."

"What about the Lessepians?" Sisko wanted to know. "You use them, too."

"True. But the Zeppelites have never been caught."

The Zeppelite Free Trader in the present case was luckier than he deserved to be. Hailed by the Federation runabout Rio Grande with the demand that he submit his cargo for inspection, he was inclined to argue the point and stand on his rights. Then over the shoulder of the Federation Commander on his viewscreen appeared the menacing figure of a Cardassian - and not, as he was rapidly to learn, just any Cardassian but the renowned Gul Dukat, Commander of the Second Order. The Zeppelite's limited willpower was not sufficient to allow him to resist the masklike glare Dukat imposed upon him, even though he heard the man's words in disbelief. Here was a Cardassian aboard a Federation vessel, threatening in a particularly Cardassian way to search his ship, extract a confession of smuggling and then...send him on his way.

The viewscreen remained live long enough for the Zeppelite to note with astonishment the traded glances between the Cardassian and the dark-skinned human beside whom he stood. Before the screen went blank the Zeppelite was able to catch a conspiratorial exchange, a mutual amusement, and wonder at it. If the Federation and the Cardassians had thrown in their lot together, it was going to be damned difficult for an honest smuggler to earn a living in this sector from now on.

Kira Nerys, too, was witness to the silent transaction. Sitting in at the runabout's science station while Sisko piloted, Miles O'Brien co-piloted and Gul Dukat remained a bored passenger in the fourth seat, she had been able to observe more than one such between the Commander and his Cardassian predecessor, a man she had cordially hated for as long as she had known of his existence. As Prefect of Bajor during the last ten years of the Occupation he had held the fates of many of her friends and relatives in his hands, and a great many of them had not survived the experience; no matter how personable he may have proved to be, he was still a Cardassian oppressor whom she would not trust further than she could throw him.

That Dukat and Sisko seemed to have perfected the art of non-verbal communication in a very short time came as something of a surprise to Kira - almost as much a surprise as Dukat's words. His typical Cardassian threat had started out full of bombast and dripping ill-intent but had been rounded with swift and clever words into a classical Federation diplomatic compromise. Had Sisko exerted some benign influence over the Gul? There was certainly some warmth between them that had not existed before, as though they had reached a personal truce separate from the one their masters had concluded. Yet there was no change in Sisko that she could detect; the compromise seemed all to be on Dukat's side.

She had wanted Sisko to let Dukat die, and she had admitted as much to him. She saw now that Sisko never would, and the thought sent a shiver down her spine. Turning, she looked across the aisle at the utterly relaxed and composed figure of her enemy to remind herself why she hated him and found that he was watching Sisko's every move with interest. He felt her eyes on him and turned to meet her gaze, and there was nothing of hostility in his expression. She was a Bajoran and he a Cardassian; they were natural enemies, therefore there should be hostility. Disconcerted, she projected in his direction quite enough hostility to bring their relationship back onto a more familiar footing, and he nodded with an enigmatic smile and allowed her to believe she could go on hating him forever.

In the Security cell on DS9 Quark was teaching Serkona a lesson in logic. By the time the expeditionaries in the Rio Grande returned with the Zeppelite in tow he had extracted from her the fact that the Maquis were aiming to destroy a Cardassian weapons dump somewhere in the Demilitarized Zone, but unfortunately she was not aware of the location. This news was passed to Sisko in the guest quarters on Level H to which he and Dukat had retired to discuss strategy. It did not seem strange by now to be working as a team, although the knowledge of what they had not discussed still lay heavy on Sisko's mind.

Why did I let it happen? He had asked himself that question so many times without an answer, and yet he kept returning to it. Like a laboratory rodent in a maze, his brain ran over and over the same old ground without finding a solution to the problem. Because I was drugged and I didn't know what I was doing? Sure. Maybe that kind of excuse would have worked when I was a Cadet, but it's not good enough any more. I'm a disciplined Starfleet Officer, it was replicated booze, and I was fully aware what I was doing.

It had been a long time and I needed to get laid? Fine, but I was on duty...and if he'd been Vulcan or Bajoran or Betazoid maybe I wouldn't be feeling quite so bad about it, but he's Cardassian. So what was it, Benjamin, the thrill of the forbidden?

"Why did you drug my drink?" he asked, quietly, interrupting whatever tactical comment the Gul had been making about their conflict with the Maquis.

Dukat paused a moment too long before answering. "You already know that. To secure your co-operation."

Sisko shook his head. "You don't seem to me like a man who has to drug his partners, Dukat. In fact I'd say you could probably get all the partners you want without having to resort to underhand methods."

A harsh burst of laughter. "You forget, Sisko, I'm Cardassian. Underhand methods are the sort we prefer."

"No. That isn't it."

"Really? Then if you are so familiar with my motives, perhaps you'd enlighten me?"

Sisko's dark eyebrows rose. "I have a theory," he said deliberately. "It occurred to me that drugging me gave me the perfect excuse, the perfect way out. It gave me a way to accept what was happening, and at the same time minimise the guilt. If I didn't know better, I'd say that you did it to save me any embarrassment."

Dukat laughed, the sort of free and unforced laugh he had rarely uttered in Sisko's presence and which sent a cool chill rippling through Sisko's nerve-endings. "But that would make me a compassionate Cardassian, Commander," Dukat told him, gleefully, "and we both know there is no such thing."

"I'd say," Sisko told him hoarsely, "the jury's still out on that one."

"Jury? What a novel concept." The reptilian face sobered. "I wish it had been so," Dukat told him softly, "but it was not. Had I the remotest notion you would be willing, I would have employed other tactics."

"You make it sound like a battle strategy simulation," the Starfleet officer complained mildly.

"Shall we simply say," suggested the Cardassian, "that I could wish I had not been...so impatient?"

Gul Dukat's contacts at Cardassian Central Command did not fail him; although he was apparently no longer persona grata, he had friends who were - a nephew, he hinted - and obtained the location of the weapons dump without difficulty. Sisko's decree was that the three runabouts - the Rio Grande, Mekong and Orinoco - piloted by three command crews should interpose themselves between the Maquis ships and the planet. Serkona's evidence had told them to expect only two Maquis vessels, so as Bashir reminded them at the staff meeting the odds were with the Federation - except that the Maquis were desperate.

The crewing assignments fell into place readily; Bashir and O'Brien - vastly different personalities who through several difficult missions together had gelled into a good team; Kira and Dax, both efficient officers and good friends; Sisko and Dukat, as sure of one another now as either had ever been of anyone else. The assignments were greeted with no surprise, as though somehow Dukat had earned a place at Sisko's side. To emphasise this, both pilots' panels on the Rio Grande were alight and functioning when they boarded the runabout, and Dukat logged on as co-pilot without further comment.

This is good, Sisko thought as the runabout launched. This is a partnership.

A sideways glance at his co-pilot revealed Dukat sunk deep in thought, his expression shuttered and his eyes averted.

Damn. Every time I think I'm starting to understand him, something like this happens and I realise we're half a universe apart again. Why does the only thing we have in common have to be sex?

He shrugged aside the thought. There was work to do, and daydreaming about silver-grey scaled hands moving on his dark flesh in sinuous ophidian patterns would do nothing for his concentration. Later for that, and for a lot of other things that were still to be resolved.

Blockading the planet, the three Starfleet craft had not long to wait before the Maquis showed up. The leading vessel was commanded by Calvin Hudson, now decidedly ex-Starfleet. Beside him sat the young man whom Sisko had prevented attacking Dukat at the Maquis hideout, and whom he had freed to notify Hudson that his career could still be saved. However they were long past that - not that Hudson had shown any desire to return to the fold. They had grown further apart than Sisko could ever have imagined, and in the process Calvin had identified himself with the Maquis and Sisko had acquired a ...

Well, just how was he going to describe his relationship with Gul Dukat? Paramour? Lover? Companion? Associate? Intimate? Ally?

Strike out whichever does not apply.

Yet they all applied, and they all sounded equally wrong.

"If you want to get to that weapons dump, Calvin," he said, levelly, across a viewscreen link that fizzled with a static of unspoken regrets, "you're gonna have to go through us. I'm not letting you kill innocent Cardassians."

"There are no innocent Cardassians, Ben."

"You're wrong. There are women and children in these colonies - how can they be your enemies?"

"Every Cardassian born is an enemy of my people," Hudson declared, the acid of anguish souring his tone.

If Sisko had ever shared that belief, he had long since discarded it.

"We'll stop you, Cal. Any way we can."

We will. I heard myself say it but I still have a lot of trouble believing it. Dukat and I will stop you, Calvin, and you're gonna wish you'd never started this.

The two Maquis vessels veered off, attempting to outrun the three Federation craft. O'Brien in the Mekong got a tractor beam lock on Hudson's ship, whilst Kira in the Orinoco restrained the Maquis wingman. However Hudson was able to fire his phasers and knock out the Mekong's beam generator, breaking free. Holding back in the Rio Grande, Sisko gave the order to fire when the Mekong came under attack from the second Maquis ship; Bashir's shot caught it under the wingtip and sent it spinning out of control. In the co-pilot's seat of the Rio Grande Dukat watched intently, keeping a lid on the joy of battle that surged through him and only showed in the heightened gleam in his eyes.

Hudson turned his attention to the Orinoco, knocking out its navigational sensor array. Kira called in to report the damage, and Sisko detailed the Mekong to disengage and go to her aid. Approvingly, Gul Dukat noted that Sisko had manoeuvred things nicely so that he and his old friend-turned-enemy could face off against one another; a fitting end to the conflict, he felt, would be for Sisko to press home his advantage in a gloating victory speech to the helpless Hudson and then finish him off in a burst of superior firepower. He would relish that; it would reinforce his opinion of Sisko as a human almost worthy to have been born Cardassian.

The rolling dogfight which followed ended with the Rio Grande hanging powerless in space, one reactor damaged beyond repair and one nacelle flooded with ionised deuterium; however the Maquis ship was also badly damaged and had lost all weapons capability. Dukat's hand wavered over the phaser controls as Hudson appeared on the viewscreen, but Sisko grabbed it and hauled it back before the Cardassian had a chance to fire.

"I'm gonna live to fight another day, Ben," Hudson told him, genuine regret in his tone at the way their friendship was ending. "Only next time, tell Starfleet to send someone else after me. You and me fightin' one another just don't feel right."

With that he closed the channel between the ships and powered away, leaving the Rio Grande, Mekong, Orinoco and the second Maquis ship floundering in empty space with scarcely a functioning stardrive between them.

"He was a good friend," Sisko muttered as he released his iron grip on his co-pilot's wrist, desolate at the moment of final betrayal. At Dukat's snort of derision he turned to see the Cardassian watching him with blazing eyes.

"I thought you were strong, Sisko. I really thought you were strong - but you're just like every other human I've ever met, a sentimental fool!"

Sisko fired a furious glare in Dukat's direction. "Just goes to show you how wrong you can be about people, doesn't it?" he said harshly, stung by the sharp words.

"Oh, certainly. And I was wrong about you! I thought we understood one another, but it appears I was mistaken."

"And I thought Cardassians didn't make mistakes." A deathly silence stretched between them, and at length Sisko said firmly; "Whatever it was you thought we understood about one another, Dukat, it doesn't include shooting down an un-armed man in cold blood."

"You let him live because he was your friend."

"That's right," Sisko blazed. "I don't think you really expected anything else. And someday you may be grateful that I prefer to keep my friends alive."

Back aboard DS9, Sisko returned to his office to make his report to Starfleet in the person of Admiral Netchaev whilst Dukat returned to the guest quarters he had been assigned on arrival. As the doors closed behind him he glanced around in grim amusement; there was something he liked very much about Benjamin Sisko, and it wasn't just the thrill of indulging himself with in alien human body with its smooth dark skin. Somewhere, deep down, Sisko had humour, too - and he followed a rigid code of honour which, if annoying, at least made him reasonably predictable. Had he been Cardassian Sisko would have been a good ally but a potentially untrustworthy friend; it amused Dukat to imagine the Cardassian Sisko could have been. In any setting, in any culture, he would somehow have risen to the top. As Commander of Terek'Nor he could be useful to Dukat - to his long-term political ambitions, not to mention his rather more personal, even intimate, ones.

He slumped on the couch. Not that personal or political ambition would get him far at the moment. Central Command had attempted to disgrace him; someone wanted him out of the way. Obviously there was a hidden agenda at work he knew nothing about.

The doorchime sounded. Dukat's eyebrows rose. He hadn't expected Sisko back anything like this quickly - if at all. They hadn't separated on the best of terms, their closeness dispelled by Dukat's cutting remarks about Sisko's compassion towards Hudson. He was annoyed with himself for forgetting that he should not expect Sisko to be a paragon of all that Cardassians found virtuous; he'd allowed his feeling of fondness for the man to cloud his judgement. In fact even acknowledging anything as self-indulgent as 'fondness' for a member of a lesser species amounted to an error of judgement in itself; he'd wanted Sisko as something between a slave and a pet, a useful acquisition to be turned aside when no longer required. He hadn't reckoned on seeing - even in an hypnotic vision - love for himself in Sisko's expression, nor on how that sight might have affected him.

The chime was repeated, stirring Dukat from his reverie. Sisko was obviously anxious for his company.

"Very well, Commander," he said, suavely, "please do try to quell your impatience, I will do my best to oblige you."

At his command the door slid open swiftly, and to his intense astonishment Dukat found himself face-to-face not with his erstwhile lover but with the rather less imposing figure of Vedek Bariel. Indeed, the sight actually rendered him speechless.

"Gul Dukat. It would be polite of you to invite me in." Bariel was dressed in a grey Bajoran Militia jumpsuit without badges of rank, as though he were some sort of civilian advisor. Over his arm he carried a swathe of flame-coloured fabric, apparently his own robes. It looked for all the world as though he were planning some kind of low-profile exit from the station and did not want to be identified.

Dukat scarcely suppressed a sneer. "Vedek Bariel? An unexpected pleasure. Please..." His expansively insincere gesture welcomed Bariel into the quarters and the door closed behind him. Dukat noted in passing that Bariel seemed to be yet another Bajoran who was not afraid of him, and that unlike Kira Nerys he seemed to bear no lingering hatred either. That must be the result of the bewildering Bajoran religion.

Bariel was regarding him levelly. "Gul Dukat, I have come to offer you sanctuary on Bajor," he said without preamble.

"Sanctuary? Why would I need sanctuary? And on Bajor, of all places?"

"Because you have enemies on Cardassia."

"I have always had enemies on Cardassia..."

"And because you and Bajor can be of use to one another."

Dukat stopped in mid-rant, turned and raised an armoured eyebrow in Bariel's direction.

"In what sense?"

"When the enemy comes from the Gamma Quadrant," Bariel said, softly, "The Federation, Bajor and Cardassia will have to stand together or be destroyed separately. This station will be first, and then Bajor...and your people and the Federation close behind. The people who can prevent this happening are you, and me, and Commander Sisko. We three," he emphasised, "need each other to survive."

The Cardassian's buoyant mood was somewhat modified and he turned away, thoughtful now. "And did you see all this in your Orb of Prophecy, priest?"

"Yes. You may be interested to learn that Commander Sisko was once blessed with a vision as well. It is not just Bajorans who are granted them. If you come to Bajor, to the monastery, you may even have a vision of your own one day."

Dukat glanced back sharply over his shoulder. The expression on Bariel's face left no room for doubt; he knew that Dukat had looked into the Orb, and now Dukat was aware that he knew. A slight inclination of the Cardassian's head was all the commerce that passed between them on the subject.

"So," he said, recovering his composure admirably, "in exchange for some imagined service which I may one day be able to render to your people in the event of some hypothetical threat from beyond the wormhole you are offering me... ?"

"A place to hide where your enemies will never think of looking, and my personal protection as a member of the Vedek Assembly. Also," more lightly Bariel added, "a chance to meditate and reflect upon your life. Surely even a Cardassian would welcome that?" His arms extended towards Dukat, holding out the bundle of orange clothing ...

... and the vision of the unknown Vedek walked once again through Gul Dukat's mind.

Sisko had barely finished on the comm-link to Starfleet when his Chief of Security appeared at his door requesting admission and was invited into the office with a weary gesture.

"Odo? What can I do for you?"

Odo didn't smile. As far as Sisko was aware, the man didn't know how. Yet there was something slightly less forbidding about his face than usual.

"Commander, Vedek Bariel is preparing to leave on the Bajoran shuttle departing in thirty minutes," the metamorph said, calmly. "He asks if you could spare the time to - er - call by the shrine and say 'goodbye' to him."

Mystified, Sisko nodded. "Sure, Odo. Only I don't understand why he didn't come to Ops; he knows I'm always glad to see him."

"Sir, he doesn't want to leave the Orb of Prophecy unattended," answered Odo, which was no answer at all as both of them knew full well.

With Odo in attendance, Sisko covered the distance to the Promenade rapidly. A Bajoran Security guard on the entrance to the shrine stood back to permit the pair of them to enter, and then staunchly stepped across the doorway as though tasked to keep out an invasion single-handedly.

The tall figure of the Vedek was standing at the far end of the room, cowled, head bowed, his back to Sisko. That he was not praying was obvious, but he was apparently lost in some labyrinth of thought as he did not turn when they entered.

"Bariel?" Sisko said, softly, unwilling to interrupt some spiritual reverie.

"Sisssko..." In just that particularly snake-like hiss had his name been spoken in the shower cabinet on the Mekong - over and over and over until he was almost hypnotised by the sibilance of it. He found himself almost running forward, unable to reconcile the voice with the figure, until he was confronted by the incontrovertible truth; beneath the Vedek's cowl was the armoured visage of Gul Dukat.

"What the hell...?"

Dukat seemed determined to make light of the impersonation. "Vedek Bariel has offered me sanctuary on Bajor," he said, matter-of-factly. "I thought, on the whole, it would be the safest place for me at the moment. As he says, no-one would think of searching for a Cardassian in the heart of a Bajoran monastery."

"But isn't that sacrilege?" Seeing Bariel emerging from the shrine's inner room, Sisko turned to him for verification. "I mean, what about the Vedek Assembly? What about Vedek Winn?"

Bariel shrugged. "She wasn't easy to persuade, I'll admit, but it's difficult for any Vedek to argue against the demonstrated Will of the Prophets. I had a vision," he added, noting the haunted expression that crossed the Cardassian's blue eyes as he said the words. "Gul Dukat must be protected at all costs, unless we want to see our planet torn apart by another war. I'm sure you'd sympathise with that aim, Commander."

With what aim? Sisko thought. Protecting the planet? Or protecting Dukat? "Does Major Kira know about this?" he demanded, to cover his confusion.

"No. Not yet. Leave me to tell her, Commander, in my own time," Bariel pleaded. "I have no doubt she'll understand eventually, but at first...she may not see things quite the way we see them. Excuse me, I have to speak to Odo about the arrangements for our departure."

Left thus in the Cardassian's company, Sisko turned back to look at him with eyes that concealed nothing. "You're going to hide among your enemies?" he asked, not quite believing it, struggling to steady his voice.

"Only as long as is absolutely necessary. As soon as the furore over the Maquis and the weapons dump dies down, I'll return to Cardassia and resume my command. I would like to think, Commander, that I may call here to pay my respects to you when I do; I feel I may have...underestimated you."

"I'd say that's about right. Drop by any time you're passing. You might bring me a bottle of raki - but I'll take it neat, if it's all the same to you." He paused and then turned back. "There's an old human saying, Dukat; 'It isn't over till it's over.'"

"Meaning...?"

"Meaning...that there are a lot of things about the last few days I won't forget in a hurry." Hampered by the presence of Bariel and Odo, Sisko made his remark deliberately oblique. "Stay alive," he said, brusquely, spinning around and striding away towards the exit. Odo took station beside him as they reached the doors, but at the last moment Sisko paused and turned again. "Vedek Dukat."

The cowled head rose in enquiry.

"May the Prophets walk with you," Sisko told him with a grin - and exited while he could, still smiling broadly