An Honorable Contest - Part Four Victoria Meredith Part Four "Damar!" a young woman's voice called out from somewhere in the bar. He turned his head a little too fast at the sound of his name and made himself dizzy. He shook his head to clear it, though that really didn't help. Looking up, he saw Ziyal and Major Kira walking up to the table. He grinned. "Ziyal," he greeted her as he rose from the table. Everything around him reeled, and he fought to steady himself on his feet. When he felt balanced, he looked back at Ziyal and grinned at her again. "You're drunk," she accused him with a laugh. "As best as I can be," Damar joked. "Vek'krin dreglen cron trist aved gleptrikavash." "What?" Ziyal asked, moving closer to him. "Just a moment," he said and turned around. He clutched at the table. "Worf. Worf!" "Jrun havashit'ka vek'krin dreg. Vek'krin dreg hri." "Worf!" "What?" Worf finally responded with annoyance. He blinked at Ziyal and Kira as though only just now noticing they were there. "We're trying to have a conversation here," Damar said to him. "Quiet it down." "Very well." "Have your drink." "I will." "Good," Damar said then turned back to Ziyal. "Ziyal. Major Kira, it's good to see you again." Kira gave him a short nod. "Thank you." "I see you've had your baby," he said, noticing that she was no longer pregnant as she had been the previous month he saw her. "Keiko O'Brien's baby," Kira corrected. "Oh, right. Gul Dukat told me about that. Congratulations. I think." Kira smiled. "Thanks." "Damar, what's going on?" Ziyal asked. "We're holding an honorable drinking contest." Kira laughed at that. "Between you and Worf? Sounds dangerous." "Commander Dax is ensuring that we don't kill each other," Damar told her. "Well, I'm certainly not here for the scintillating conversation," Dax said from her chair. Ziyal grinned at Damar. "An 'honorable drinking contest'? What's that about?" "I'm drinking for the honor of Cardassia," Damar declared. "I suppose you'll take any excuse you can get," Kira said with dry amusement. "It's not an excuse," Damar countered, not liking that she wasn't taking this seriously. "I'm defending our honor against Worf's insults against us." "That shouldn't be so hard," Kira said coolly. "Considering that Cardassians don't have much honor to defend." Hot rage thudding through him at that, Damar gave her a malevolent glare. "I'm tired of listening to insults against my people." "You should be use to it by now," Kira said, matching his glare with a sharp one of her own. "Cardassians make such easy targets." Enraged, Damar took a step towards her, readying a threatening insult to put the Bajoran in her place, when suddenly hands grabbed him. Their strength pulled him back, Worf gripping his right arm and Dax gripping his left. The tighter they held him, the more he struggled against them. All around the bar, the crowds of people quieted down again, and Damar felt all their eyes on him. That only inflamed his fury all the more. "Ah, Major," Dax said, fighting to hold on to him. "We're trying to keep Damar's belligerence on an even keel." "With him full of kanar?" Kira said in derision, watching him closely with hard eyes. "Good luck with that." "Let me go," Damar fumed, struggling to free himself from their strong hold on his arms. "It hasn't been easy," Dax said. "He is extremely aggressive," Worf declared. "You're not much better, Worf," Dax pointed out. "I said to let me go," Damar snarled, growing angrier by the moment. "I'm not?" Worf sounded insulted. "You've been almost as hard to handle as Damar," she said with annoyance as Damar continued to struggle against them. "Will you let me go!" Damar demanded. "Only if you settle down," Dax told him. "I'm not going to do anything," he insisted. "You almost attacked Major Kira," Worf accused him. "I wasn't going to attack her. I was going to give her a piece of my mind." Kira opened her mouth but Dax raised a hand to stop her. "Don't," Dax ordered. With a grimace, Kira closed her mouth. "I'm sick of being insulted," Damar groused. "I've been insulted all night." "I'm with Damar on this," Dax said. "I'm tired of listening to insults myself." "Damar doesn't deserve to be insulted," Worf said stoutly. "I don't?" Damar asked in surprise. "He doesn't?" Kira asked. "I never thought he did," Ziyal put in. "Thank you, Ziyal," Damar gave her a charming smile. She blushed at it. "He has proven that he has honor," Worf declared. Damar stared at him in shock and took this as clear evidence that the bloodwine had started to befuddle Worf's brain. "This should be good." Kira leaned against the table, seeming to relax though she didn't take her eyes off Damar. "He has been fighting a courageous battle against all odds for the good of his people. Every day, he risks his life for them, and he's loyal to his crew and his commander. He proves his honor by not giving up. That is a thing to be admired." Damar blinked at Worf. He made it all sound rather noble and romantic. "That does count for something," Dax agreed. "It does," Kira concurred. "Even though I still think it's a foolish effort. One ship against the entire Klingon Empire isn't making much of a difference." "We're doing everything that we can," Damar snapped. "It's better than doing nothing and sitting by while our people are dying. Someone had to make a stand." Kira nodded, looking almost understanding. "I'll give you that. I know it's been hard and you're doing the best that you can." That mollified him. "Thank you." "Also, he did not cheat at this contest," Worf said, making this sound as though it had equal weight to Damar's "courageous battle against all odds". His tone made Damar laugh. "There is that," Dax chuckled then she looked at Damar. "Calm now?" "Of course I am." Dax and Worf let go of him, though they watched him as though they didn't trust him. What were they expecting him to do? Attack someone? Moving away from them, he sat down at the table and looked to Ziyal. "What are you doing here?" he asked her. "You should be with Gul Dukat." "Tonight was the Remembrance Ceremony at the Bajoran Shrine," Ziyal told him as she stepped closer to him. That didn't sit well with him. "You'd rather go to the Bajoran Shrine than spend time with your father?" "I spent all afternoon with him," Ziyal said. "He understood that this was important to me and besides, he said he had work to do tonight." "I see." "And we'll have time tomorrow morning." "I'm sure he's looking forward to that," Damar said with pointed approval. Dax and Worf retook their chairs while Kira remained standing next to Ziyal. Finally, the people in the bar turned their eyes away from the scene, going back to their gambling and drinking and laughing. The bar became filled with boisterous noise once more. "So, any good news from home?" Ziyal asked him. "No," Damar frowned at her. "Why would you think that there would be?" "I suppose not," Ziyal sighed, looking at him with sad understanding. Damar never liked seeing Ziyal sad, and he tried to think of something positive to say. "Sagia wrote to tell me that Eren's taken his first steps," he told her. Ziyal smiled. "That's good." "Of course, I wasn't there to see it," Damar said bitterly then tried to shake his bitterness off. "Sagia tells me that they were very self-assured steps for a baby." "Eren's your son?" Dax asked. Damar nodded. "He just turned a year old." "I'm glad to know they're doing all right," Ziyal said. "No one's doing all right in Cardassia," he corrected her. "You know that, Ziyal." "How long has it been since you've been with them?" she asked. "Nearly two months." "That is a difficult thing," Worf said, "to be separated from your son." "I hate every minute of it," Damar groused. "But what can be done? I'm a soldier. That's what happens when you're a soldier. My family understands. I just hope my son will." "He will," Ziyal assured him. Damar looked at her. Such a gentle girl. Woman, he corrected himself. She seemed more grown up since the last time he saw her. Though she was oddly plain with her half-formed ridges, he remembered enjoying her company on the Groumall. That hadn't lasted long. There were times when he missed that broken down freighter, when things were simpler, and Ziyal uplifted the crew with her brightness and warmth just by being there. Though it had taken time for the crew to become used to her, a half Bajoran and a woman, being with them, they had all eventually accepted her. "Damar, your ten minutes are almost up," Dax said. "Less talking, more drinking," Worf demanded. Damar laughed at that as he grabbed a glass. "Wrong one," Dax pointed out. He blinked at the glass and saw that it contained water. Setting it down, he picked up the kanar bottle and poured himself a drink. The kanar made the station whirl even more vigorously. "What's this ten minute thing?" Kira asked. "It's one of the rules of the contest," Dax said. "They're limited to one drink every ten minutes. It's supposed to keep them from drinking too fast." "Damar refuses to comply," Worf accused. "I never agreed to that rule," Damar insisted. "It's for your own good," Dax told him. Damar snorted. "If I was concerned about my own good, I wouldn't be doing this contest." "Good point," Dax conceded. He poured another drink for himself and gulped it down. "There," Worf pointed at him. "You see. He refuses to play by the rules. I was wrong about you. You are not honorable." "What?" Damar asked, confused by this. "How is that I had honor a minute ago but I don't have it now? I think your definition of honor is fickle." "Fickle?" Worf snapped while the women around them chuckled at Damar's statement. "Klingons are not fickle." "I'm not breaking the rule because I didn't agree to the rule. Therefore, I haven't lost honor in your eyes." "You haven't?" "No, I haven't. Now, have a drink. I'm ahead of you again." "You're always ahead of me," Worf groused. "That's right and I always will be," Damar said with hard arrogance. "You should get used to that." Giving an annoyed grunt, Worf poured his bloodwine into his glass and drank it down. Kira shook her head and looked at Dax. "You're actually going to put up with this for the rest of the night?" "Care to join me?" Dax asked. "They can be pretty entertaining at times. Exasperating all the rest of the time, though." "I'll bet," Kira laughed. "Oh, you should," Dax told her. "Quark's taking wagers on which one is going to be under the table first. Worf's the heavy favorite to win." Kira looked Damar and Worf over. "Worf does seem like the obvious choice." "Well, I'm going to bet on Damar," Ziyal said stoutly. "Thank you, Ziyal," Damar smiled at her. "I won't let you down." He grabbed the bottle again, and again Dax stopped him, grabbing his pouring arm. "Will you stop that?" he snapped. "Ten minutes," Dax said sternly. "I don't care if you agree to the rule or not. That's the stipulation of this contest." "I started this contest and when I did, I didn't say anything about stipulations. I don't want any rules. Tonight, no rules. We drink and that's that." "Drink some water, Damar," Dax said tiredly then shook her head at Kira. "I swear it's like baby-sitting a child." "I'm not a child," Damar insisted, then drank his water. "You are defiant and unruly," Worf accused him. Feeling insulted again, Damar snarled, "That's impossible." "Guess again," Kira said dryly. "I'm a Cardassian. Cardassians aren't defiant and unruly. We're orderly and disciplined." "Oh, yes," Dax rolled her eyes. "You've been proving how disciplined you are all night." Ziyal patted his shoulder. "You should follow the rule. It'll help you pace yourself better." "I know how to pace myself," he insisted. "I know you do," she assured him. "But following the rule help you win, and since I'm wagering on you, you had better win." Damar grinned at her mock serious tone. "All right, all right. For you, Ziyal, I'll abide by the rule." Ziyal smiled with pleasure. She was such a nice girl, he thought, though a bit blurry around the edges. "It's nice to see you again," he said. "It's nice to see you, too," she told him. "Maybe we can catch up tomorrow. When you're sober." "All right," Damar agreed. "If I have time. I have to get the monstrous Klingon bucket ready for our departure tomorrow afternoon." "It is a Bird of Prey," Worf frowned at him. "You keep calling it a monstrous Klingon bucket." "That's because it is a monstrous Klingon bucket." "It's your ship. You should have respect for it." Damar nodded, his head feeling loose. "The ship has its moments at times. It's useful and we do need it. But my respect is with the crew and Gul Dukat, not with the ship." Then he looked up at Kira and said with sincere earnestness, "Though I'm appreciative that you helped us get it." "No problem," Kira said. "I don't want you to think I'm not grateful for it. But you have to admit. It is a monstrous Klingon bucket." "It gets the job done," Kira shrugged. "Exactly," Damar reached for his bottle. "No," Dax snapped. "But it's been ten minutes," Damar insisted. "More like five. Wait for Worf." "What? You haven't taken a drink yet, Worf? What kind of drinking contest is this?" "I will take one now," Worf said. "Don't let him bully you into it, Worf." Dax told him. "Damar is incapable of bullying me. Klingon warriors cannot be bullied." Kira straightened from the table. "As interesting as all of this is, I need to call it a night." "Me, too," Ziyal said. Damar suddenly found her arms encircling his shoulders as she embraced him. He stiffened at that. Public demonstrations of affection weren't proper. Though, Ziyal never did get a proper education. "Take care of yourself," Ziyal whispered in his ear. "I'm worried about you." "You don't need to be," he assured her. Ziyal straightened and brushed his gaunt cheek with her finger. "You don't look good. None of the crew does. I worry about you and Father. I know how bad it's been and what you're doing is so dangerous." Damar took her hand. "Everything will be all right. Dukat's promised. Things are going to get better for Cardassia. You'll see." "I hope so," Ziyal smiled. "Good night." "Good night." "Sleep well, Ziyal, Major Kira," Dax told them. "Good night," Worf said. Damar watched Ziyal and Kira move away from the table and through the crowd in the bar. "She's a sweet young woman," Dax said fondly of Ziyal. "She is," Damar agreed. "I hate that she's here." "Why do you say that?" Dax sounded surprised. "It's not good for her," Damar said with deep concern. "You heard her. Going to the Bajoran Shrine. She's naïve. She needs to be protected from those kinds of influences." "Going to the Bajoran Shrine is part of her heritage," Dax said with veiled annoyance. "She is half-Bajoran." Damar grimaced at that. "True," he admitted. "It's not as though she was accepted on Cardassia," she said. "Also true," he agreed and poured another drink. He tossed it down then gestured at her with the glass. "She wasn't accepted not just because she's part Bajoran. It was also because she's Gul Dukat's daughter. His enemies used her against him. He lost everything because of her, but he didn't give up on her. He didn't send her away. That's family loyalty. That's honor. But his enemies used her as a political pawn. I hate politics." "Dukat did send her away once," Dax pointed out. "He did that to protect her and . . . and her mother. He was sending them to a safe place. He didn't know that their ship was going to be shot down. He didn't know that that Bajoran woman would die and that Ziyal would be taken prisoner by the Breen. When he found out where she was, he went and rescued her." "He also planned on killing her when he found her," Dax told him coolly. "He did not," Damar argued, shocked that she would think such a thing. "He would never do that. He would never kill an innocent girl and certainly not his own daughter." "I see that Dukat left some things out when he told you about it." "How would you know?" he demanded. "Kira told me." "Why would Kira say such a thing?" Damar couldn't fathom it, then he remembered. Kira was a Bajoran. "She hates Dukat. She's just trying to poison your minds against him." "Major Kira is an honorable woman," Worf defended. "This isn't something that she would make up," Dax added. Damar shook his head. "It's absurd. Dukat loves Ziyal. He loves her. He talks about her all the time. He only wants what's best for her. A man who loves his daughter that much would never threaten her life. Why would he?" "Because he knew the consequences when he brought her back to Cardassia," she said. "He knew he'd be ruined because of Ziyal. And he was." "That's right," Damar defended. "He knew that would happen, and he rescued her anyway. I don't know about you, but I think that's a very noble thing. Dukat knows what family loyalty is. I just wish Ziyal did." "Well, he made the right decision in sparing her life," Dax admitted. Damar gave an exasperated sigh. Obviously, Kira had a bad influence on Ziyal and on these people. She didn't seem like a dishonest person, but why would she spread such an appalling lie? He lifted his bottle. "Water, Damar," Dax reminded him. His head felt too loose when he nodded. Setting the bottle down, he took a drink of water. "Ziyal says that there were very few Cardassians who accepted her," Dax said to him. "I wouldn't have suspected it, but you're one of them." "She's Dukat's daughter," he said. "And besides, you know what she's like. She's very gentle. Very kind-hearted. How can you not like a person like that? I hate seeing her being corrupted." "She's not being corrupted," Dax insisted. "She is. I can see it. I wish there were a better place for her. It's too dangerous to bring her back to Cardassia. At least, she's safe and well fed here. But she needs to learn what it means to be a Cardassian. She's not going to learn that by going to Bajoran Shrines." "No, she'll learn what it means to be a Bajoran by going to Bajoran Shrines." "She's Cardassian as well," Damar snapped. "It would break Dukat's heart to know that she was turning her back on her Cardassian heritage." He could see that the others didn't understand. That seemed to make the whole thing worse. They didn't want Ziyal to know what it was to be a Cardassian. For all of their insistence that they weren't racists, he knew they hated Cardassians. Ziyal shouldn't be in a place like this with people like Kira encouraging her to be a Bajoran while hating her Cardassian side. Kira was a Bajoran, but in spite of that, he had thought her to be a fine woman. After all, she had been very helpful in getting the Klingon bucket for them, giving them a means to fight, and Dukat thought highly of her. Now, however, Damar wasn't sure how he felt about her. Not with her spreading lies about Dukat and corrupting Ziyal with her Bajoran ways. His temper growing foul again, Damar filled his glass with kanar and drank it down. Feeling eyes on him, he noticed a human watching them from a nearby table. Damar glared at him, and the human quickly looked away. He hated being the center of attention, but he supposed the contest couldn't help but attract on-lookers. Doctor Bashir approached the table, giving smiles to them all, which Damar countered with a sneer. There was something false about that smile. Damar hated falsity. "So, how are the two of you holding up?" Bashir asked Worf and Damar, giving them each a careful study. "I am holding my own," Worf declared. "Never better," Damar grumbled. Bashir took a seat next to Dax. "I'm sure you are." "Where have you been?" Dax asked, sounding annoyed with him. "Here and there," Bashir said. "Playing darts with the Chief." 'You're supposed to be helping me baby-sit these two." "I wish you would not use that term," Worf said irritably "You do not baby-sit a Klingon warrior." "Or a Cardassian soldier," Damar added. "You are the moderator," Worf lectured Dax. "Right," Damar agreed. "That's your function. You are to moderate." She rolled her eyes. "I'm glad we got that cleared up." Damar picked up the bottle. "It's Worf's turn," Dax said emphatically. Damar slumped at that and glared at Worf. "Well?" "Well what?" "What do you mean 'well what'? Drink." "It is difficult to enjoy this contest with you continually harassing me to drink." "It's a drinking contest. You're supposed to be drinking. And I'm finding it difficult to enjoy the contest when I have to continually wait for you to catch up. Drink." Worf picked up his water glass. Damar knew he did this to spite him. "Not water, you idiot," Damar growled at him. "Do not call me an idiot," Worf snarled. "If I want to drink water, I'll drink water." "Water doesn't count," Damar strained to hold onto his temper. "Drink the bloodwine." "I do not take orders from you, Glinn Damar," Worf held his head high, though it wavered a bit. "I am a Lieutenant Commander in Starfleet." "Good for you," Damar sneered. "Just hurry up and drink." Bashir gave an amused shake of his head at the both of them. "I see that I haven't missed much." "You did miss seeing Damar nearly attack Major Kira," Dax said. "I wasn't going to attack her," Damar insisted. "That was pretty much the floor show," Dax told Bashir. Across the table, Worf gulped down his bloodwine. Finally. Damar reached out for the bottle then stopped himself. He had promised Ziyal that he would follow that inane rule. Glancing at Dax, he hoped that she was keeping an accurate time count on all of this. He didn't even know how many drinks he had had. A lot. Even more than he was used to. He could feel it in his body. Everything felt heavy, especially his head. Heavy yet extremely relaxed. It felt good. He'd like it even more when the room stopped spinning. Tempting though it was, Damar resisted resting his head against his arms. He might fall asleep that way. Worf let out a monumental belch, eliciting a laugh from Damar. The Klingon rested heavily on his arms, bowing over the table. Damar stared at him. They were now going to have to wait ten minutes to drink again. Feeling his mind growing foggier, he forced himself to concentrate and tried to think of something to talk about. He noticed Worf's head falling forward. "Worf," he said to catch his attention. "What?" Worf lifted his head back up. "I have a question about the monstrous Klingon bucket." "You mean the Bird of Prey," Worf corrected with annoyance. "Right. Whenever I push it past warp three, there's a strange shift in the starboard power relays. I'm constantly having to compensate for it." "You're the helmsman on the Bird of Prey?" Worf asked. "Yes." "I thought that you were the Executive Officer." "That too. And the assistant engineer, though that's unofficial." "Sounds like a busy life," Bashir commented. "There's no such thing as being off-duty," Damar told him. "We don't have much of a crew." "How many are there?" Worf asked. "Nineteen." Dax blinked at him. "You're running a Klingon Bird of Prey with a crew of nineteen?" "I thought that you had more than that," Worf said. "We did," Damar nodded. "We've lost some and it's hard to get recruits. That boarding party I told you about? We lost almost half our crew in the struggle. I know it doesn't seem like much, but we've been able to accomplish some things with very little. We've made life difficult for the Klingons, and we're able to get some supplies through to Cardassia. Not much, but it's better than nothing." "Cardassians are a very efficient and resourceful people," Bashir said. "And you don't give up easily." "No, we don't," Damar agreed and gave a sloppy smile to Bashir. "Has it been ten minutes?" Dax chuckled. "Go ahead." He poured his kanar and gulped it down then nodded to Worf to do the same. Taking a deep breath then blowing it out, Damar slumped back down on his arms. "As I was saying," he said. "The monstrous bucket." "The Bird of Prey," Worf corrected. "Right. It has this strange shift. I can't figure it out. I've tried everything. Rerouting the phase induction. Realigning the plasma conductors. Even swapping out DMS linkages. Nothing's worked. On a Galor, a shift like that would come from an improper mix through the variant capacitors, but the bucket doesn't have variant capacitors. What do you think?" "What do I think?" Worf frowned. "About the shift?" "What do you think I'm talking about?" Damar asked in annoyance. "I am not an engineer," Worf said. "But you're a Klingon," Damar pointed out. "Yes." "And it's a Klingon bucket." Worf glared at him. "Bird of Prey," Damar corrected. "You must know something about it." "Because I'm a Klingon." "Yes." Shaking his head, Worf said, "Not all Klingons are engineers." "What I mean is," Damar stopped to think about what he meant. "Is that, haven't you had training on Klingon ships?" "I know some things," Worf said. "Have you tried altering the starboard intake ratios?" "That's the first thing I tried and I tried it twice." "It could be a problem with the fusion mix," Dax said. "That sometimes causes a variant shift through the power relays." "But the fusion mix isn't directly linked to the power relays," Damar said then frowned in thought. "At least, they shouldn't be." "There's an indirect link through the main MPR conductors," she told him. "Really?" he paused to work that out. Difficult when his mind wasn't functioning properly, but he had the schematics of the ship memorized. "That's interesting. The indirect link, then, would take the place of the variant capacitors." "Probably," Dax said. "I'm not familiar with Galors." "We're still getting familiar with the monstrous bucket after all these . . ." "Bird - of - Prey!" Worf barked. "Right. After all these months. It's not as though it came with a manual. I'll have to try that. Thank you. The shift isn't so bad. I've been living with it for months. Just an annoyance." "When you fix it, you'll have to get used to piloting the ship without the shift," Dax pointed out. Damar chuckled. "Probably so." "Sounds as though you've gotten the hang of the monstrous Klingon bucket so far," Bashir said. "Bird of Prey," Dax corrected him. Bashir smiled at her. "Right." "I'll take a Galor any day," Damar said. "I live for the day when I can helm one again. Of course, we can't operate behind enemy lines with a Galor." "At least you understand the value of your vessel," Worf said. "Even though you are disrespectful of it." "I respect it enough," Damar told him. "It has some good features." "The cloaking device," Bashir pointed out. "To say the least," Damar smiled. "I've been studying the design. I think that once this war is over, we'll be able to introduce the technology on our own ships." Damar froze at that. "I probably shouldn't have said that." "No, probably not," Bashir agreed a bit coolly. He sighed. "Never could watch my mouth." "Especially not as drunk as you are," Dax pointed out with a smile. Damar waved a dismissive hand. "I'm not that drunk. I just have a bad habit of saying what I think instead of thinking before I say. Speak. Something like that." Worf barked a laugh. "There is such a thing as too much honesty." "How do you mean?" "You don't have tact or discretion." Damar scowled at that. "I could say the same thing about you." Worf laughed again. "I say what I think. If people don't like it, I don't care." "I've noticed that," Dax said dryly. "Tact and discretion are virtues in my society," Damar said. "Then that makes you virtue-less," Worf declared. "I'm not virtue-less," Damar grumbled. "I have virtues." Damar picked up his bottle and poured another drink. He raised his glass then stopped and looked with confusion at Worf. "I was going to say something." "Most likely," Worf nodded. "What was it?" "I have no idea." "Oh. Neither do I." "Something about virtue," Bashir supplied helpfully. Worf frowned at him. "You don't need to encourage him." "What do you mean, encourage me?" Damar asked then downed his drink. "He doesn't need to encourage you to talk," Worf said pointedly. "You talk too much as it is." "Well, what am I supposed to do if I don't talk? Sit here and stare at the table?" "That would be good." Damar glared at him. "Take a drink, Worf. It's time." "And drink some water," Bashir reminded him. As Worf helped himself to more bloodwine, Damar drank the last of the water in his glass. He tried to refill the glass from the pitcher but ended up spilling the water over the table. "I better do that," Dax said, taking the pitcher from his hand while Bashir mopped up the spill with some napkins. Damar sat back and watched the activity, feeling stuporous. "What were we talking about?" he asked. "We were talking about how you talk too much," Worf reminded him then let out another belch. "Right," Damar nodded. "I'm actually considered on the quiet side among my people." "You're joking," Dax said as she sat back down. "I'm not . . . loquacious. I mean, compared to others. Dukat, he could talk for hours." "As if you haven't been," Worf grumbled. "No, this is different. This is a conversation. With Dukat, you sit and listen and he talks." "Doesn't let you get a word in edge-wise, does he," Dax chuckled. "Sounds dull," Worf put in. "Oh, no," Damar insisted. "Dukat's fascinating. I could listen to him all day. Though he can get a bit repetitious at times. He sometimes gets stuck on the same subjects. Like Ziyal. Dukat talks about her all the time. That's understandable. He misses her a great deal. He talks about Major Kira and how he wishes that she joined us in our fight. He talks about her a lot. And about Bajor. He gets fixated on Bajor. I don't understand it. I don't see how he could care so much about the Bajorans when they treated him so poorly. He says they're like children, you know. Unruly, recalcitrant children. They needed him but they never gave him the respect he deserves. And Dukat deserves respect. Well, one day they'll respect him. They'll have to." "I don't think Bajor and Dukat are safe topics right now," Dax said in a cold tone. "I thought you said that you weren't loquacious," Worf said with annoyance. Damar frowned. "Was I being loquacious? I was just talking about Dukat." "I think you're a little fixated on him," Dax pointed out. "A little too fixated." "Dukat is a great man," Damar insisted. "So you keep saying," Worf groused. "Change the subject," Dax ordered sharply. "Or stop talking," Worf added. Damar shook his head and immediately wished that he hadn't. Bad enough that his vision was going blurry and his stomach was queasy. Everything kept reeling. He noticed Worf's head had slumped down again. "All right. All right," Damar said. "We were talking about something else." "You talking too much," Worf grumbled. "No, there was something else." "Ah . . . a shift in the starboard relays." Damar laughed. "That was ages ago. Keep up with us, Worf." Worf lifted his head. "We were talking about how you lack virtue." "Right. I remember." "Good for you," Worf rolled his eyes. "I have virtues." "Name one." Damar thought about that. He was fairly certain that everyone had virtues but his mind couldn't grasp hold of any. "I don't know," he confessed. "But I do have them." Dax laughed at that. "You have honor," Worf pointed out. "Oh, I do now. I thought that I didn't." "Well, you have some. A little. I think." "Better than nothing," Damar said and picked up his bottle again. He focused on keeping his hand steady as he poured the kanar. Leaning against his elbows, he wished he could go and lie down. His stomach continually complained about all the kanar he was consuming. In front of him, Worf sat slumped forward. He could see that Worf was definitely fading. That was a good thing, except Damar was fading right along with him. "Worf," Damar said. "You need to drink again." Worf lifted his head. "I do?" "He does, doesn't he?" Damar asked Dax. "I did just take one. I think." "He does," Dax confirmed. Worf lifted his bottle and appeared to concentrate very hard in order to pour the bloodwine into his tankard. He gulped it down. "Good," Damar approved, trying to force his head to stay up. It was a losing battle. "We were talking about something." Worf groaned. "Not again," he groused. "I'm tired of hearing the sound of your voice." "It's a Cardassian thing," Dax told him. "We just have to live with it for a little while longer." "What's a Cardassian thing?" Damar asked. "The need to dominate any social gathering," Dax said. "I'm not domineering," Damar said. Dax laughed. "Want to bet on that? The way you keep hounding Worf to drink and how you take control over every conversation?" "I never thought of myself as being domineering." "You can't help it," Dax shrugged. "Cardassians don't feel comfortable being isolated and surrounded by other species. You counter that by taking control of the situation regardless of how other people feel about it. It's obnoxious but we can handle that." Damar grunted at that. Obnoxious, was he? He fell silent. He did feel suddenly uncomfortable, as though Dax had actually taken his control away. He sat at a table with three people who didn't like him. In a room filled with aliens, mostly Bajorans and humans, who didn't like him either. His eyes moved around the bar, catching people in the crowd watching their table in curiosity. They all seemed to blanch at his glare in a satisfying manner. It didn't matter if they liked him or not. He was there and they'd have to deal with that.   Continue to Part Five ***** Back to Archive Back to WDFA