An Honorable Contest- Part Three Victoria Meredith Part Three Damar watched as Worf drank down the bloodwine, wondering if the Klingon felt as good as he did in his growing intoxication. "That sandwich was good," Damar said. "Roast beef." "I thought you'd like it," Worf said. "You eat Earth food often?" "Occasionally. It reminds me of home." That confused Damar. "Home?" "I was raised on Earth." "Really? How did that come about?" "I was orphaned and an Earth couple adopted me." "You're an orphan?" "There's nothing wrong with being an orphan," Dax interjected. Damar hesitated at that. "Orphans lack support of family. They don't have a place in society." "In Cardassian society," Dax said pointedly. "Other people treat their orphans better." Though it felt like another insult, Damar gave that some thought as he poured another drink. "We have a lot of orphans now," Damar said carefully, nearly feeling as though he was veering away from his own traditions. "If they're not taken care of, I think that the next generation of Cardassians will be crippled. Our children are our future. Even orphans." "That's an enlightened insight for a Cardassian," Worf said in approval. Another implied insult of his race. Damar tried to ignore it. "It's not a new insight. It's a growing concern. Everything is a growing concern. It's going to take a lot to recover from this war when it finally ends." His sense of drunken euphoria began to fade. He wasn't supposed to be thinking about the war and its consequences. He wasn't supposed to be thinking about Cardassia. He was supposed to be forgetting all of that for one relaxing evening. But he couldn't. Cardassia was in his heart. In his blood. Kanar couldn't wash that away, nor did he want it to. Damar swallowed his drink. Dukat would take care of Cardassia. Soon it will all be better. He only wished he knew how. "Anyway," he said, trying to force himself to better his mood. "You lived on Earth. Being a Klingon child on Earth must have been awkward." "At times," Worf admitted. "My adoptive parents found me to be a challenge." "I can imagine." "I find him a challenge, too," Dax said, giving Worf a fond smile. "But he's worth it." "You're fortunate," Damar told him. "Commander Dax seems to be a fine woman." "Very fine," Worf agreed. "I am fortunate in many ways. My parents are good people and very patient with me." "Didn't you miss being with other Klingons?" Damar asked. "I know that I'd hate to be isolated from my kind." "It was difficult. But the Earthers came to accept me. They are a generous people." "I haven't found them to be so," Damar muttered bitterly. "The Federation is trying to get supplies in to Cardassia," Dax told him. "It isn't enough. They could do more but they're not." "They're trying to get around the blockades while negotiating with the Klingons at the same time. That makes it hard to get relief supplies in. Working out a peace settlement takes time." "Time for us to starve to death," he said morosely. "We're not supposed to be talking about the war," she gently reminded him. "No. We're supposed to be sitting here with full bellies, enjoying our drinks and ignoring what's happening." "You're supposed to be enjoying some of the pleasures of life -- eating, drinking, talking --grateful that you have the chance to do it." "You're right," Damar said with a sigh. "I'm trying to do that. I can't." "They're your people," Dax said. "How can you forget what's happening to them? At least, you and your crew are doing what you can." "It's not enough, either. We can barely get enough food for the crew, and we can barely get enough food past the blockades to Cardassia." Feeling his morale fall, Damar poured a drink and gulped it down. "It'll end soon," he said, trying to encourage himself, though he didn't feel encouraged. "I have faith in that. I believe in Dukat." Dax reached out and took the bottle from him. "Now you're up by two on Worf. Let him catch up. Drink some water." "Worf's too slow," Damar muttered. "I am a Klingon warrior," Worf said with dignity. "I know how to listen to my body and pace myself. You are going too fast." "That maybe so, but I want another drink. Hurry up and catch up with me." "I will drink one now and then another in ten minutes." Rage burst through Damar and he leapt to his feet. "I said to catch up with me!" he thundered at Worf. Worf glowered at him. "I will be caught up with you in ten minutes. I will not be rushed." Damar ground his teeth then he turned and glared at Dax. "I'm tired of waiting. Give me my bottle." "No," Dax said coolly. "You just had a drink less than a minute ago. You're not going to win by doing this, Damar. Sit down and have some water. That was a rule you did agree to." Annoyed, he slumped down into his chair and poured another glass of water. Worf seemed to take a deliberately long time pouring his next drink of bloodwine. Worse, Damar now had to wait an entire ten minutes before he could have another drink. It felt like an eternity. He gulped down the water then sat back in his chair. Worf set down his tankard and let out a huge belch. Damar jumped at the sound, shocked by Worf's rudeness. Dax looked a bit embarrassed by it herself. Worf, on the other hand, looked smug. In spite of himself, Damar began to laugh. "You could push a Galor into warp with a belch like that," Damar laughed. "It is a sign that this wine is a very good vintage," Worf said. "It's a sign that you probably have indigestion from gulping down your meal." "That, too," Worf agreed, causing Damar to laugh again. Dax craned her neck, looking about the bar. "I wonder where Julian went." "Probably playing darts with Chief O'Brien," Worf said, looking around as well. "I don't see him. He's supposed to be helping me baby-sit you two." "Baby-sit?" Damar barked. "We do not require you and Doctor Bashir keeping an eye on us," Worf said sternly. "Glinn Damar and I are perfectly capable of doing this contest on our own." "That's right," Damar agreed. Dax snorted. "Want to bet? How many drinks have you had?" Damar had to think about that. His mind began to feel fuzzy. Looking at Worf, he saw that the Klingon had no idea either. "Ah, seven," Damar guessed. "Try eight," Dax replied. "See. You do need me to keep an eye on you." Damar gave her his most charming smile. At least, it felt charming to him. "I don't mind. You can keep an eye on me all night. As long as I can keep an eye on you." "Keep your eyes to yourself," Worf snapped. Damar ignored him. "Speaking of eyes," he said, leaning closer to Dax. "Yours are amazing. They tell me that you have a warm and vibrant heart." "Thank you," Dax smiled. "I think that I could get drunk and lose myself just staring into them," Damar went on. "I could 'spend an eternity in your eyes and never completely know the fullness of your being'." Dax looked impressed, though she did laugh at that. "Very nice." "Grueta Karid, 'Time In Oneness', second stanza," Damar told her. "So, Klingons sing when they get drunk and Cardassians quote poetry." "I'm not that versed in poetry," Damar said, still holding her by the eyes. "Though you do inspire it." "Jadzia inspires many men to lose their hearts," Worf declared, his eyes hot on Damar. "And you will lose yours to my blade if you keep this up." "That would be worth the risk," Damar said, smiling at Dax. "Sorry, Damar," she said as she placed the bottle of kanar in front of him. "That's a contest you've already lost. Worf has won my heart, and a drunk, aggressive Cardassian isn't likely to win it from him." "You hardly know me to say that," Damar said. "I'm not always drunk and aggressive." "Maybe not," Dax shrugged. Damar poured a glass of kanar and gulped it down. "Nine," he said. "Well, at least you can pay attention," she pointed out. "You keep me alert," he told her. "I wouldn't want to lose the pleasantness of your company by not paying attention to you." "Leave her alone," Worf insisted. "Drink your drink, Worf," Damar said, not looking at him. "You're a Trill. Are you joined?" "I am," Dax said. "I don't know much about Trills, but I understand that you share the memories of all your hosts." "It makes for an interesting life." "Many lives," Damar murmured, fascinated by the idea. "All in one person. How many?" "Eight." "Eight lifetimes. It really would take an eternity to know all of who you are. An eternity well spent." Worf glared at him. "Do not continue this flirtation or else you will force me to challenge you to honorable combat. And that contest you would definitely lose." "I wouldn't be so sure about that," Damar rejoined, rising to his feet. The world rocked a bit around him as he did. "Down, Damar," Dax said sternly as Worf rose to face him. "This is about drinking, not fighting. Remember? Besides, you know that Worf can wipe the floor with you." "Can he?" Damar sneered. "I've had a lot of practice fighting Klingons lately, and I've wiped the floor with a good many of them." "If you did," she said, "you didn't do it drunk. Sit down, the both of you. Worf, Damar's one up on you." Worf and Damar ignored her, glaring silently at each other. "Worf," Dax snapped. "There's no reason for you to feel threatened over some harmless flirting. Damar doesn't mean anything by it. He's just amusing himself." "Of course, I mean something by it," Damar groused as he broke eye contact with Worf. He retook his seat. "I always mean what I say. Besides, that wasn't flirting." "It wasn't?" Worf asked with flat disbelief. He sat and refilled his tankard with wine. "If I was flirting with Commander Dax, I'd say," Damar stopped and thought about that for a moment then looked at Dax. He drew himself up as tall and arrogant as he could. "You have eight lives of wisdom yet you're foolish enough to waste this life on a barbarian." "You will be sorry you said that, Cardassian!" Worf roared. "Let me handle this, Worf," Dax leaned in closer to Damar. She had a dangerous glint in her eye that only made her all the more fascinating. "I'd rather live my life in the warm fires of a warrior than with a soldier's cold-hearted steel." Damar blinked at her. She thought he was cold-hearted? Battening down a defense, he felt a bit nervous. Dax obviously knew how to play this game, but he was never very good at it. He had more successes with women using charm. His mind raced for a good reply. "Fires burn out," Damar said with a dismissive wave of his hand towards Worf. "Steel lasts forever. But you think that you can risk playing with fire and not get burned. Hasn't any of those lives taught you that fire will only leave you with cinders and ash?" "Whereas steel would leave me cold and slashed and bleeding," Dax countered, far too fast for Damar's liking. He could see already that he was going to lose this. "I'll take the warmth and the brilliance of light in fire any day. You could use less steel in you. With the right blow and the right force, steel can shatter." "It takes more effort to shatter steel than it does to douse a fire. You have steel as well. So risk this fire," Damar gestured at Worf again. "It will either temper you or melt you into uselessness." "Just as the fires of your life will do to you," Dax said, holding him by the eyes. "You won't be melted by fire but you can be burned and left in ashes. You can be broken more easily than you realize." "I will never be broken," Damar snapped. "I'm strong enough endure anything." The moment he said this, he cringed. In the game of flirtation, he wasn't supposed to defend himself directly. He was supposed to be flinging sharp and subtle insults at her to prove his cunning and intelligence. Unfortunately, he didn't know her well enough to find subtle insults to use against her. She didn't know him either, though she had done a superior job so far. "I hope so," Dax said sincerely. "I do. I don't like to see anyone broken, even Cardassians. But you should realize that, though you sit here in a man's body, you're still a boy. You still have a lot of growing up to do and you better do it fast. You have a lot of potential, Damar, but you're not there yet. Not by a long shot." That hurt, primarily because it felt like the truth. Her wisdom intimidated him, and he realized that even though she had a young woman's body, Dax was an elder perhaps centuries old. He should be showing her more respect in deference to her age. Damar gave the game up, knowing that he could never win against her, not with eight lifetimes backing her up and that wisdom in her lovely, vibrant eyes. Reaching out, he poured himself another drink then swallowed it down. "Well, at least I have potential," he said, acknowledging the compliment within the insult. "But I'm an adult. I'm not a child." "You're an adolescent," Dax rejoined. "It happens to people all the time. Their bodies grow up faster than the rest of them. Some of them never grow up. It's questionable whether you will or not." "I'm not cold-hearted, either," Damar muttered, pouring more kanar into his glass. "No, you're hot-blooded. Too hot. That's part of your problem. You need to learn self-control. Speaking of which, don't drink that drink yet. Wait for Worf to catch up." With a grimace, Damar set the glass down. Dax sat back with a satisfied smiled but Worf looked at them in confusion. "Does this mean that you have defeated him?" Worf asked. "In the great game of Cardassian flirtation, yes," she said smugly. "He never stood a chance." "No, he did not," Worf said with pride. "Not against the brilliant Jadzia Dax." "Drink your drink, Worf," Damar grumbled. "I guess this means that you don't get many dates," Dax said to him. "You're not a very good flirt in the Cardassian sense." "I've never had a problem with women," Damar insisted. "I just don't win them over by insulting them in flirtation." "You use charm and compliments, instead." "That usually works." "You're not too bad at it," she smiled at him. "Thank you," Damar replied and picked up his glass. He drained it in a quick swallow and felt the world lurch around him. He laughed at it, though he had no idea why. Worf laughed suddenly as well. The Klingon swayed in his chair. "You're very good at insults," Damar told Dax, gesturing at her with his glass. "I could learn from you." "Well, I'll be happy to sit here and insult you all night, if you like," Dax said with a mischievous smile. "You do provide plenty of material." Damar laughed. "You should be careful. Some of your insults sound like flirtation. You don't want to get Worf upset." "I don't see how anyone could find insults flirtatious," Worf said and took a long drink of his bloodwine. Seeing that made Damar thirsty again, and he poured himself another drink. "There are more effective ways of winning over a woman." "Like physical combat," Dax nodded, looking amused. "I have heard that Klingons beat their women into submission," Damar said then swallowed his kanar. "You have heard wrong," Worf insisted. "Klingon women are fierce fighters, and they're usually the ones to initiate mating combat." "Klingon women are fierce," Damar agreed. "I've found that they can be just as difficult to kill as men. I've had to kill several of them and it wasn't easy." Worf tensed at that, his eyes growing hot. "I meant that as a compliment," Damar said quickly. "A compliment," Worf said in a hard tone. "Klingon women impressed you with their ferocity while you killed them." "Exactly," he nodded. "I'm not used to going into physical combat with women. Fortunately, it doesn't happen too often." "I can't imagine you surviving any sort of fight with a Klingon woman," Worf sneered at him. "More likely, you sneak up on them and stab them in the back." "If that gets the job done," Damar snarled. "Sometimes it doesn't and we do have to get into a physical fight. Our ship was nearly taken over by a band of Klingons trying to stop us from breaking through their blockades. We had to fight in the corridors of our ship and we barely survived. I had to kill two women in that fight. I'm sorry if that upsets your sense of decency, Worf, but that's war. I know it upsets mine. I don't like killing women, even if they are Klingon hags." "'Hags'!" Worf leapt to his feet in insult. Dax rolled her eyes at him. "Calm down, Worf." "He has insulted the honor of Klingon women. I will not sit here and allow him to continue." "Fine," Damar shrugged. "Stand there, then." He lifted his glass to his mouth, but Dax took his arm to stop him. "Wait until Worf has his drink first," Dax said sternly. "Worf's too busy being blustery." "'Blustery'!" Worf snapped. "Oh, is this a game?" Damar asked him. "I say a word and you repeat it? That might be the one intellectual pursuit you're good at." "You miserable p'tak." "I was wondering when you were going to say that." "You are the last person to make insults against my intelligence," Worf snarled. "You lost an intellectual pursuit in your attempt at Cardassian flirtation with Jadzia. A woman such as Jadzia would never be interested in a man like you. You are a liar and a cheat." "I haven't cheated," Damar defended. "And I'm not a liar." "You tried to cheat in our wager," Worf rejoined. "You have proven yourself dishonest and untrustworthy. That doesn't surprise me seeing that you are a Cardassian." Rage flaring within him, Damar leapt to his feet. Unfortunately, the entire space station lurched when he did this, forcing him to clutch at the table to regain his balance. "I have proven myself honest and trustworthy," Damar defended. "I could have cheated at this contest, but I didn't even though Dukat wanted me to. Do you know how hard it is to talk Dukat out of something?" "Dukat is a treacherous, dishonorable man," Worf countered. "Dukat is a great man!" Damar thundered. Enraged, he stormed towards Worf. Suddenly, Dax came between them. "Settle down," she snapped, giving them both hard glares. "There is no one more powerful, stronger and nobler than Dukat," Damar insisted in fury and zeal as he tried to get around Dax. She pushed him back, and he clung onto the table again to keep from falling. "Dukat is a heroic leader and you would see that if you knew him." "Dukat is the murderer of millions of innocent Bajorans," Worf growled. "Innocent?" Damar growled back. "There's no such thing as an innocent Bajoran. They're all terrorists and savages, the lot of them." Suddenly, Dax grabbed him by the front of his uniform, her eyes cold and dangerous, and she pushed him against the table. Trapped between her and the table, Damar struggled to pull away from her. She was stronger than she looked. All around them, the people in the bar stared at them. He saw hatred in the eyes of the Bajorans, and he gave them hatred back with his most malevolent glare. "I know that you're drunk," Dax said in a cold hard tone, "but I find your attitude offensive and so do a lot of people here. I won't tolerate racism." "And I find your hypocrisy offensive," Damar shot back. "You don't seem to have any problem with Worf's racism against Cardassians." "Worf isn't a racist." "He's been insulting my people all night. He assumes I have no honor just because I'm a Cardassian. He just said that Cardassians are dishonest and untrustworthy." "That's more often true than it isn't," she said, her eyes as hard as her voice. "You're right that it's not fair to make generalities based on a person's race, but I find honest, trustworthy Cardassians to be a pretty rare breed." Grabbing her wrists, he tried to wrench her hands off his uniform. "You think I'm dishonest?" he fumed. "You think I'm untrustworthy?" "I think you're honest, Damar," she said, still holding him tight against the table. "I think that you mean what you say, even though I don't like all the things that you say. But I wouldn't trust you for a minute. Not with that foul temper and belligerent attitude of yours. You're always just one step away from violence." She suddenly released him as though he wasn't worth holding up. "Now," she said, "sit down and let's get this contest over with. I'm tired of it already." Worf and Dax took their seats but Damar stood and scowled at them both. Inside, he seethed with rage. The last thing he wanted to do was to sit at a table with them, but he had a mission to fulfill. "Sit down," Dax commanded. "Or else, you forfeit the match and Worf wins." "I knew you were biased against me," Damar snarled, slumping down into the chair. Grabbing the bottle, he splashed a portion of the kanar into his glass. He noticed that the bottle was nearly empty. That registered in his mind as not a good thing. He gulped the kanar down as Dax snatched the bottle from him. "You're two up on Worf again," she snapped. "Wait for him to catch up." Ignoring her, Damar folded his arms and looked away. He watched the other people in the room without actually seeing them. Rage made a knot in his stomach, and he felt about ready to boil over. The crowd around one of the dabo tables suddenly shouted out "Dabo!" and he looked over to see the smiling, beautiful Bajoran woman. Damar sneered at her. It angered him that Dax and Worf didn't trust him. What more did he have to do to prove himself to them? Wasn't it enough that he didn't cheat? Wasn't it enough that he had swallowed his pride and confessed that he couldn't match Worf's wager? Wasn't it enough that he was their ally? Damar couldn't imagine what more he could do or even if he wanted to try any more. But he didn't like that they all thought so poorly about his race. Cardassians were a strong and courageous people. They were a people to be feared and respected. That much should be obvious to all the rest. "I think that we should make a new wager," Worf rumbled, breaking into the cold silence that had fallen over the table. "Isn't it too late?" Damar asked, refusing to look at him. "We've already started." "I will put up a case of kanar should you win," Worf said and pointed to Damar's chest. "And you will put up that sash in case I win. It is an affront to me to have to sit here and see a man like you wearing it." That only stirred up Damar's temper further. "I earned this sash," he growled then held up one of the insignias attached to it. "This one nearly got me killed three months ago." "That is the mark of the House of Tovka." "Is it," Damar said in a cold tone. He couldn't care less which House it marked. "That is a great and noble House of fierce and brave warriors." "He made a difficult opponent. He was fierce and brave, and this sash reminds me that I am fierce and brave as well. It reminds me that I have the fortitude to survive." "Do you need to wear a thing to remind you of that?" Dax asked him. "Don't you know already that you're fierce and brave in your heart?" Her wisdom and the compliment in her words settled down his temper. "I do," he said. "You wanted that case of kanar for your crew," Dax went on. "Wouldn't that be worth giving up the sash?" Damar considered that. The sash was one of his few personal possessions. Last month he had to give up his prized bat'leth to sell for supplies. Now all that he had left to show for his victories were the sash with its insignias and his mek'leth. But his crew was more important than he was. Their sagging morale bothered him and that wasn't going to improve now that their leave had been canceled. A good supply of kanar would go a long way in uplifting the crew's spirits. Dax had been right. He didn't need the sash to remind of his own courage and fortitude. In his heart, he knew he was brave. "Very well," he said to Worf. "I accept the wager. And for your sake, I won't wear this in front of you." He pulled off the sash and handed it to Dax. "Hold this in assurance." "I'll keep it safe," she said as she folded it neatly. "I appreciate your gesture," Worf acknowledged. Damar nodded, looking away again. He supposed that he would earn more trophies as they continued to fight. Only, he didn't want to earn more trophies. In his heart, living along side his bravery, Damar longed for peace. No Cardassian was afraid of war. Their culture had been built on military conquests. Though he enjoyed the adrenaline of battle and thrill of triumph, Cardassia's struggles and suffering through war had become wearisome. Not so long ago, Cardassia had a moment of peace. Having another time of peace would be a very welcome thing, though it disheartened him to know that peace may not come for quite some time. Suddenly, Worf stood, catching Damar's attention from his longing and despair. "Now what?" Damar asked. "I have to relieve myself," Worf announced. "You know, so do I," Damar said as he rose. He reeled on his feet. "I'll go with you." "I don't think that's a good idea," Dax said. "Why?" Damar asked. "You prefer that we relieve ourselves here?" Worf barked out a laugh. "I don't think Quark will appreciate that." "We'll be fine," Damar assured her. "Right," Dax said dryly. "Because you two are 'civilized men'." "I give my word that I will not kill him while we're away," Worf vowed. "I give my word, as well," Damar said. "I won't kill Worf in the waste extraction." "I will wait to kill him until we return," Worf told Dax. "I know that you will enjoy witnessing his death." Damar blurted out a bitter laugh. "I'm sure she'll want to help." "Just promise that you won't speak to each other while you're gone," Dax gave them each a hard look. "Not a word to each other. Especially you, Damar." He opened his mouth to protest, then snapped it closed and looked at Worf. "Come on, Worf." Not waiting to see if Worf followed, Damar eased his way through the bar. He had to concentrate on walking in a straight line. It wasn't easy and he lurched more than he walked. As he entered the public waste extraction room, he noticed Worf lurching at his side. "She does not trust us to be alone together," Worf said, sounding annoyed. "Then, we'll have to prove ourselves worthy of trust, won't we?" Worf gave him an evil look. Damar supposed that spitting out the word "trust" like a curse didn't help matters. "Perhaps we should do as she suggested," Worf said, moving to a urinal, "and avoid speaking to each other." "Perhaps," Damar grumbled as his stood at another urinal and opened the front of his pants. Damar kept his eyes to himself, but it sounded as though Worf was producing a prodigious stream. His wasn't so bad either. He leaned his hand against the wall, the world still reeling. "There seems to be something wrong with the station's inertial dampeners," Worf commented. That elicited a laugh from Damar. "Right, Worf. That must be it." "Or the gravity control systems are slightly off," Worf went on in a deadpan tone. It took Damar a moment to realize that Worf was joking. "No wonder I feel so light on my feet," he said. "Or so heavy. I sort of feel both." "My head is light. My feet are heavy." "And my arms," Damar added. "Those, too." "Heavy and light, I mean." "Must be the gravity." "Or the dampeners." "Yes." Damar finished up about the same time that Worf did. His balance still unsteady, Damar made his way to the door. "There, you see," Worf said with a tone of satisfaction. "We proved that we are able to carry on a perfectly normal conversation without feeling the need to kill each other." "You're right," Damar said. "That should prove we're trustworthy to Commander Dax." "She already knows that I'm trustworthy," Worf pointed out as they left the room. With Worf at his side, Damar concentrated on walking through the bar again. He stumbled but Worf caught him. Catching him, though, made Worf lose his balance, and Damar grabbed him by the waist. They leaned against each other, Damar holding Worf's waist and Worf's arm over Damar's shoulder. Together, they both lurched through the bar. The crowds of people parted for them, some seeming to be amused by the pair, some Bajorans giving Damar cold hard glares. Damar was either helping Worf stay on his feet or Worf was helping him. He couldn't tell which. At last, they made it back to the table. Dax grinned at them. "Now that's something I didn't expect to see," she said. "A Klingon and a Cardassian arm in arm." "There's something wrong with the . . ." Damar looked at Worf as he let go and made his way to his seat. "What was it?" "Inertial dampeners," Worf supplied. "That's it." "Or the gravity control systems." "You should inform Captain Sisko," Damar told Dax very seriously, but he couldn't keep a straight face and he blurted out a laugh. Worf threw back his head and roared with laughter. Dax appeared more amused by them than she was with the joke. Noticing his glass was full of kanar, he picked it up. He gulped down the drink then took the bottle to pour another one. The bottle was full. Damar stared at it. "This was nearly empty before," he said in confusion. Dax shrugged. "Well, it's full now." "Won't be for long," Worf rumbled. He, too, had a full bottle of bloodwine in front of him. "But how did it get full?" Damar asked. "The kanar fairy came along and filled it while you were gone," Dax said sardonically. Damar frowned at her. "I'm serious. I didn't order another bottle." "I had Quark bring you one." Staring at the bottle, Damar realized that he was going into new territory. He had never actually drunk more than one bottle of kanar. He could never afford it. And through the drunken fog encroaching upon his brain, he realized that he couldn't afford this one. He had already spent his ration chips. "But . . . I," Damar stammered with embarrassment. "I can't . . ." "Sure you can," Dax assured him. "It's already taken care of." "It is?" "Yes, so don't worry." "But how?" "Quark gathered a lot of wagers on the contest. He can't have one of the contestants bow out in the middle of it, especially since the wagering is going pretty heavily against you." "So, I'm earning this bottle of kanar from Quark by drinking it." Dax chuckled. "Something like that." "That's acceptable," Damar nodded. "Good, but you can't drink another one. Wait for Worf." "'Wait for Worf'," Damar groused. "I'm always waiting for Worf." "That is only because I know how to pace myself," Worf said, "and you don't. You need to learn patience." "Well, couldn't I learn it at another time?" Dax chuckled at that. "Now's a good a time as any. Have some water. You're not drinking enough of it as it is." Damar refilled his water glass from the pitcher and drank it down. Across the table, Worf drank his bloodwine and gave another belch that had Damar laughing again. Then Worf made a deep, stentorian noise. "Res'tak mrash dreg," Worf sang. Damar winced. "Evreg drast cotavech yar." "Does he really have to sing?" Damar complained to Dax. She smiled. "It's as natural as breathing for a Klingon. Enjoy it. You might like it." "Kredash'tok vren dav nikat'dosh yish vrek yar." Giving an annoyed sigh, Damar reached for the glass of kanar. Dax slapped his hand away. "Don't do that," he snapped at her. "Worf's still behind you by one." "Uda rek. Uda srup. Uda glesh mavran'ik." "Less singing and more drinking," Damar insisted. Worf ignored him and Damar slumped back in his chair. It wasn't so bad. He did sing well, though he tended to strain at the higher notes. The song was a bit slow and heavy for Damar's taste. A few people in the bar wandered over to the table, to Damar's annoyance. The last thing he wanted was an audience mostly made up of humans and Bajorans gathered around them. They just stood there and watched and listened for a moment. Though with nothing really to see except Damar slumped in his chair and glaring at them as maliciously as he could to will them away, they didn't stay long. Finally, Worf came to the end of his song. "Very nice," Damar complimented him. "Now, drink." Giving a drunken nod, Worf poured himself more bloodwine and drank it down. Just as he lowered his tankard, Damar grabbed his glass and gulped his kanar. "Your turn," he said. "I will wait ten minutes." "Then make it a fast ten minutes." "I'll do my best," Worf assured him then broke into song again. "Res'tak mrash dreg." "Didn't he just sing that one?" Damar asked Dax. "It's his favorite." "I don't like it. It's dull. Worf. Worf!" "Kredash'tok vren dav nikat'dosh yish vrek yar." "Worf!" Damar shouted at him. "Uda rek. Uda srup. Uda glesh mavran'ik." "Worf!" Worf suddenly stopped and blinked at him. "What?" "Sing something else." "But I like this song." "I don't. It's too heavy. Sing something lighter." "Lighter?" "Yes. Upbeat." "Upbeat?" "Something with life in it," Damar said in exasperation. "That song's a dirge." Worf frowned in thought. "I'm not sure . . ." "Then don't sing anything at all," Damar snapped. Worf glared at him. "I will sing what I want to sing." "Well, have some variety at least." "Very well. Hedrek yivesh carrin. Hav a'daad vrenin'kren." Worf's new choice of song did seem to have a quicker beat, but his bass voice and the heavy consonants still made the song drag. Annoyed, Damar looked at Dax. "This is his idea of light?" Dax leaned closer, amusement in her eyes. "All Klingon music kind of sound like dirges. Very stirring dirges." "A stirring dirge," Damar grumped. "Sounds like an oxymoron."   Continue to Part Four ***** Back to Archive Back to WDFA