Plain and Simple

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[justgarak-blog]

Mistakes were made (again)

[justgarak-blog]

professortora:

“Less?” Naprem maintains her innocent air, as though she can’t read Garak’s body language as easily as if it were written. “Admiral, I do know you. I find it difficult to believe you could disclose less if you tried.”

Garak doesn’t like doctors – Naprem knows this. She doesn’t like doctors either, for much the same reasons. But she’s beginning to think that that like may not be what they’re talking about; existential dread, Garak’s never been particularly coy with, nor his possessiveness of his own sense of secrecy. 

His feelings, however, are a different matter.

“Surely you can’t think he’s judging you in any way. It’d be a gross violation of his code of conduct.”

“His face is an open book. Even if he were trying to remain professional, I can tell what he truly thinks.” That smug claim was tinged with the smallest hint of annoyance. 

Another drink made silence even more unbearable and before he knew it, he was talking. Again.

“He is young still and maybe one day he will be able to control his eyes better, but now? He is disgustingly obvious.” 

[justgarak-blog]

Preemptive Measures

[professortora]

Tora pursed her lips, pressing her back up against the rock and widening her stance, determined to keep her heels anchored and her aim steady. She surveyed the rockface in front of them, searching for any abnormality. Fighting a hidden enemy, she could handle. She’d done it before – for years, in fact – but fighting a planet was an entirely different matter, with odds she liked much less. She wasn’t a woman who liked being toyed with, prone to it though she was.

She took aim with her phaser and fired farther up the cliff, and this time, the arc of the beam went wild, zinging and crackling. She jerked her finger off the trigger, flattening to the rock as it twisted and zagged before popping out of existence, as though by the whim of a capricious god.

“…how much do you trust your eyes here, Mr. Garak?” she asked, voice tight with unease.

[justgarak-blog]

Garak watched with eerie calm as the beam went wild and evaporated. He liked being toyed with even less than the Bajoran beside him, but unlike her, he handled such situations with a little less open agitation. He preferred to keep his irritation and emotions locked away, stored up for later use. 

“I trust nothing,” he replied brightly as he took a step forward upon suspect ground. “Why do you ask, my dear?”

[madexoutxofxstardust]

Odo knew very well Garak was lying to him, he had cameras installed in his shop and quarters, knowing Garak was of interest for security. Anyway, he didn’t minded Garak hacking his files that much for some reason, there was no motivation in harming the Station. He could give it back to Cardassia with a nice ribbon around it, and they would still not allow him to set a foot on Cardassia Prime and stay alive. He was exiled for a reason. 

“Well, at least they don’t make a huge bow around me on the promenade as half of the station does with you, hmm?”, he replied with a smirk. 

He nodded and grinned a bit slyly as Garak stated this: “You better tie her to yourself then, to make sure the protective presence of Zyial is with you in the right moment.”, he suggested ironically. Garak knew very well how to watch over himself, Odo didn’t needed to tell him to be careful.

[justgarak-blog]

His warning, though redundant and unnecessary was noted and appreciated, if only for the sentiment. Garak tilted his head, his eyes widening with exaggerated interest at the gauche suggestion.

“An excellent suggestion, constable. Will you be supplying the rope or will you leave that to my discretion?”

[justgarak-blog]

Accessorizing

Bajorans had very little merits that could not be attributed directly to the more benign influences of Cardassia. That was universally agreed amongst Garak and most others not aligned to the Federation. What was also agreed--albeit grudgingly--was that Bajorans had a very good eye for jewelry that even Cardassians could not overlook or attribute to themselves. 

So, whilst Garak was the undisputed authority on fashion on the station, he would never claim to be the same authority on jewelry. No, that he deferred to a very few select individuals, one of which was none too friendly with him even after all these lonely cold years on the station.

That mentioned unfriendly individual was one Kayma Tes, a neighboring merchant and former member of the crude resistance that played a role in destroying much of what Cardassian had helped Bajor build*. But the past was the past and Garak tried not to dwell too much on it. Instead, he had attempted more recently of late to be especially friendly to her, if only for Ziyal’s sake...which in turn resulted in an almost weekly consultation between the tailor and that particular merchant.

It was during such a consultation that found Garak standing beside Tes’s kiosk with one of his newer tunics in hand. Looking up at her with the appearance of utter ease and pleasantness, he offered the delicate creation up for her inspection.

“Dear Ziyal insisted upon the bright blue,” he supplied, his smile taking a more genuine tilt at the mention of their mutual friend. “And I chose a more traditional Cardassian cut, which reveals just enough of the shoulders to be daring and yet respectable.”

He did not ask outright for her advice, but the expectant look in his eyes made it clear he expected her to volunteer suggestions up without any further prompting.

*Not that Garak was bitter that the occupation had ended (he was one of the many that found the operation not only monetarily draining, but decadent to a fault)--no, he was just bitter at the aftermath.

[drorah-walks]

D’rorah finished making her entries at the console, checking her diagnostics even as Garak spoke up with the first question of the journey.  “If I knew that,” she reasoned, “there would be no need to run the diagnostics.”

“I have great respect for the Chief O’Brien’s mechanical skill.  He is, however, not infallible.”  Nor was he the only one with access to the runabout.  In her mind, it was better to be thorough now than to regret not having been thorough later.

Even as she said it, she finished the final readings.  Unless she wanted to start with the same scans all over again, there was nothing remaining to check.  There was no other plausible reason to expect or request the ride to pass in silence any longer.  Like any delay tactic, even running diagnostics could only last for so long.

She withdrew her hands from the console and checked their course one final time, glancing out at the cosmos streaking past outside.  Three days.  She’d barely managed to fill an hour.  Well, c’est la vie.

She rose from her seat, making her way back toward the replicator.  “I am going to have a cup of tea.  Would you care for anything?”

@justgarak

[justgarak-blog]

Garak looked up, and waved his hand in dismissal, his smile bordering a condescending sort of indulgence at her discomfort and fidgeting.

“Federation replicators rarely have anything to my liking.” That was a small lie. Doctor Bashir, in his never-ending quest to get Garak to see the merits of the Federation, had showed him quite a few food and drink items he grudgingly admitted were more than just tolerable. Still, he would never supply such information to another Federation officer. That would make them too friendly and his pride found that idea intolerable.

“The teas from Earth, for instance, are either too weak or too burnt. I often wonder why humans bother with adding anything to their water if it just comes out bland and scalding.”

@drorah-walks

[justgarak-blog]

Mistakes were made (again)

[professortora]

“The doctor’s shift started four hours ago,” Naprem says, all pleasantness. “I’m sure he’d be happy to see you. Especially if your ‘mood’ - as we’re calling it - has been preempted by something you’ve failed to disclose. Every doctor wants to be sure their patients leave them feeling…satisfied. I’m sure.”

[justgarak-blog]

If looks could kill, Garak’s would be set to kill. Naprem was being vulgar and direct, which was abominably Bajoran of her*. He drained his glass again, this time not hiding his grimace as the thick liquid forced its way down his throat. 

“I never said that the doctor’s ministrations were unsatisfactory.” He licked at the stray droplet of kanar from the corner of his pale lips as an ugly dark flush over his scales as the viscous beverage finally managed to penetrate his bloodstream. It was dangerous for him to say more, much less reach for his companion’s glass of untouched kanar...

“If anything, I think the doctor would have preferred I disclosed less.”

...but good judgment had left him one bottle ago.

*He preferred to think it Bajoran rather than admit it might be the lingering influence of one Captain Dukat.

@professortora

[justgarak-blog]

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[1stofficerspock]

A Stitch in Time: Spock and Garak

[1stofficerspock]

Spock’s skill as a telepath might have allowed him to pick up Garak’s errant thoughts when the tailor touched him during the fitting of his new garments, but Spock, while essentially a spy in his current duty, would never touch a mind without permission or unless it was a life or death situation. While Bashir was in danger, Spock did not think that was reason enough to break his personal code of ethics, he had also spent two days on Deep Space 9 in which he determined that the Cardassian was not a threat. He was in fact Julian Bashir’s friend.

“Mr. Garak,” he said as he stretched his arms out to check the fall of the tunic and fit of his shoulders. “An expert job of tailoring, sir. You have exceeded your reputation.” The Vulcan lowered his arms, brown eyes meeting blue. “You are also a shrewd individual, so I must assume that you know I am not here for a new outfit. I am on a mission of great importance, and I require your assistance.”

He waited, watching Garak take in his words, and continued to inspect the Tholian silk of his sleeves. When it seemed that the tailor was interested in what he had to say, Spock continued. “Your friend, Dr. Bashir, is in danger. I have come from the future to save his life.”

@justgarak

[justgarak-blog]

Garak’s harmless smile remained in place, though his eyes betrayed a note of personal interest at the name “Bashir” and “danger.” Loathe though he might to admit it, his friendship with the doctor had taken an alarmingly personal note that made him feel protective over the human.

A stubbornly Cardassian part of him wanted to prolong the game of innocence and ignorance until he got the upper hand on the unsettling turn the conversation had taken. He hated feeling at a disadvantage as much as the next person.

“I must say, I hope the future has a broader color palette than the one you are displaying--no offense.” 

Garak took a few steps back, gesturing for the Vulcan to follow him deeper into the shop, away from the door. 

“Do come to the back counter, sir, so we may speak in private about this...future.”

@1stofficerspock

[double-raktajino-extra-sweet]

Jadzia smiled brightly. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were flirting with me.” She laughed, “In fact, I wouldn’t mind if my flattering outfit were to distract Worf long enough to give me an advantage in our daily holosuite battle. But you never heard that…” Her eyes twinkled mischievously. “He’s starting to think I do it on purpose.”

[justgarak-blog]

“I doubt it is the outfit as much as yourself,” he added, his smile taking a teasing tilt. “He blames your ensembles as an excuse for his own weakness.”

Were these actual observations or were they a continued flirtation made to intentionally bother those watching them? Garak’s motivations were ever enigmatic.

“Of course, I am by no means discouraging you from showing your impeccable sense of style off when you can. It is a breath of fresh air amid all the drab Bajoran fashions and even drabber Starfleet uniforms.”

[justgarak-blog]

Mistakes were made (again)

[professortora]

“If Quark’s fashion sense were enough to drive you into the arms of my captain, I doubt we’d ever leave port.” Tora tilted her head just so, narrowing her eyes a little. 

She hadn’t supposed there was any special reason for him to sleep with Dukat – but now that it’d been suggested as a possibility, she couldn’t figure out why it hadn’t crossed her mind earlier. Garak wasn’t a man often given to impulse, certainly not in the way of her beloved, and he also had no established weakness to Dukat’s so-called “charms”. It had been some time since they’d fallen in together, so to speak. 

Tora combed through her knowledge of the Cardassian front – any news that might’ve stuck out to her as something that could motivate this type of reaction. She could think of nothing offhand. 

“You’re in a very peculiar mood, Admiral,” she observes. “Perhaps we ought to return to the medical bay – see if there’s something the good doctor missed.”

[justgarak-blog]

Garak paused mid-sip at the mention of the doctor. Oh, he really should not have drank as much as he did before starting the conversation, but the reaction was made and there was no shortage of speculation that could be drawn from it. The game (if it was ever such a thing to begin with) was waning to a close in the commander’s favor.

Still, he kept up the futile charade and let the sip draw out into a long, awkward one before setting the kanar down on the table with more care than he’d shown previously. His eyes were no longer meeting Naprem’s.

“I assure you I have been discharged by the good doctor with a clean bill of health. To bother him now at this hour for one of my ‘moods,’ as you put it, would be a waste of his time and only annoy him.”

[justgarak-blog]

@double-raktajino-extra-sweet

“Surely you are not wasting that outfit on Mr. Worf!” he declared with all due (in)appropriate shock and appall as he accosted the always well-dressed Jadzia Dax in the Promenade.

Blue eyes flickered up and down her form with critical silent approval mixed with melodramatic despair.

“I doubt he would have any appreciation for the flattering cut or the intricate and elegant designs of your dress, much less the way those colors flatter your complexion.”

[justgarak-blog]

/whispers i am more than willing to start fresh threads with anyone that wants 'em. just like this post and i will throw something at you this week

[justgarak-blog]

Mistakes were made (again)

[professortora]

“A bad mood?” Tora asked, peering closer, seeming undeterred by his outburst. The stares of others had long ceased to bother her, and her obligatory embarrassment had always trembled before the imposing monolith of her curiosity. “Why? What’s happened?”

[justgarak-blog]

Garak gave Naprem a censuring look. He might be drunk, but he was not one to offer his secrets with such obvious fishing.

“Though you know me: there could be a number of reasons for my foul mood. For instance: Quark’s offensive new jacket.”

[kateviardo-deactivated20200223]

The finest Cardassian novel ever written.

[justgarak-blog]

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[switchblade]

[justgarak-blog]

imma cry. st beyond was good