Ow

I just pulled a muscle at the gym in a place I didn't knwo I had a muscle to pull.

ST:DS9 Black Bottle Interlude: First Taste

Title: Black Bottle Interlude: First Taste

Author: Hermit9

Characters: Elim Garak, Julian Bashir

Rating: PG

Summ:  In the Black Bottle Universe, but has no bearing on the plot really.

Warnigns: None.

    The station is dark this early in the morning, most of the night shift is still on, though the hour of the changing of the guard is at hand.  Tired security officers stand at their posts, bored, checking the time.  Engineers in pairs or quads slump home after a full shift of conduit spelunking.  The cafeteria is just opening, steam rising from clean ovens, dampening the sleepy faces of the cooks.  On Terok Nor, these officers and workers would not be so oblivious to the messages they send.  On the Romulan home world, he wouldn't be able to set foot anywhere near a terminal that could access restricted information.  But on a Federation Starbase, Elim's job is much easier.

    There are good times to complete a mission and bad times.  Catching people at their most apathetic, the very beginning of their day when they may or may not be awake, or at the very end when an emergent situation could potentially be regarded as someone else's problem, are some very good times.  Another good time is at night, whatever time the local "night" happens to be.  In short, the timing couldn't be better, but that is certainly no guarantee of success.  Regardless of the Federation's lax security on Starbase 375, he is still a Cardassian in enemy territory.  One slip and he can kiss his career goodbye, maybe his life.

    It's really hard to breathe.  The breathing apparatus, while fantastically realistic, (he managed to find one that would actually produce a visible vapor, and in a children's holosuite costuming catalog of all places) actually hinders the deep breaths he is taking as adrenaline starts to build up and bubble in his veins.   The rest of the Benzite disguise is actually quite comfortable.  Human-run stations being generally too cold for Cardassians, the rubbery false skin is a shield holding in a little heat and moisture that his skin surely appreciates.  Though moving naturally is difficult.

    Natural is going to be crucial in these final seconds.  He has what he came for, but they will figure it out shortly when the computer goes through its next cycle of security iterations.  When that happens it will discover the substituted data rod.  Then he will need to call upon some good fortune to facilitate his exit.

    It is only another moment as he tries to walk calmly toward the docking ring when the alarm sounds.  He turns in the direction of the sound like the few other souls awake at this hour, but unlike them, he moves away from the sound instead of toward it.  The security guards roused from their end-of-shift pining take off at a sprint toward the operations center and Elim trots down the corridor and ducks into a dark patch of shadow.  He hears barked orders and the dark sound of charging weapons.  Elim crouches in his spot and looks frantically around.  He hopes good luck strikes very soon.

    To his right is a strangely large duct with a light grating over it, probably a maintenance conduit that gets used too frequently to warrant putting locks on it.  Without a second thought he pulls the grate off, climbs inside and closes it behind him.  Footfalls like drums pass him at a run and he can see phaser-rifle muzzles streak by.  His heart is pounding hard.  Feels good actually, exhilarating.  This had turned out to be a bit more dangerous than he had expected, but with elevated risks, the potential for rewards also increases. 

    "When I find that lizard I'm going to slit his throat!" he hears someone say in the distance amongst the commotion.  So they know already.  Good for them.  Elim smiles behind his rubberized facade and pulls the data rod from his clothes.  Desperate for more air he then pulls his mask off, no point to it now if they know they are looking for a Cardassian.  He inspects the rod for scratches then places it carefully back into his pocket.

    It is at this time that something, almost nothing, catches his attention, and he looks to his right, down the dark pit of the conduit, and sees that he is not alone.  Wide eyed, a little boy stares at him from just a meter away.  Elim stops breathing a moment because for that first instant he thought he was looking at a Bajoran child, which could be bad.  Bajoran children are brought up knowing what to do when confronted with a Cardassian - but he is missing the nose and the earring, and he doesn't appear terribly frightened, maybe a little.  Certainly Elim is more afraid.  What he thought was good luck could end up being quite poor in light of this.

    "What are you doing here?"  Elim wihspers, still trying to nail down a species.  Maybe Betazoid?  No.  He is very small so it is difficult to be sure.  The child doesn't answer, but tries to tuck away something in his hand from Elim's view.  Smells like some kind of sweet, unless that is the child he smells.  A warm sweet smell like some variety of spicy flowers dripping nectar in the sun.  As a rule, aliens don't' smell all that sweet to Elim.  He guesses it is whatever the child licks from his lips and tries to hide.  Elim catches his breath a moment more, a bit more relaxed since it seems the child has no inclination to cry or yell for help.  As if he had nothing to fear except the loss of his candy.  "You shouldn't be here you know.  This is no place for a child."  More soldiers jog past the duct with their armor and weapons clinking loudly with each step.  Elim prays they don't fire in here.  This little thing doesn't deserve to die just because of him, and not for such a useless errand as this.  Chances are they won't get anything more useful from the data rod this time than they did last time.  He's going to end up going to Romulus, he knows it.  He really doesn't want to be a gardener.  Elim certainly has creative inclinations, but gardening was never how he liked to use them.  Elim sighs and waits.  "Ever have one of those days when it seems like the whole world is out to get you?" he asks the child who again does and says nothing, just squats and watches him, peers out of the dark portal.  Then suddenly there is a tiny hand in front of Elim holding a curious thing, a brown square, the sweet he had been hiding from Elim only a moment ago is now offered him.  Elim stares at the child in disbelief.  He is far too young to be devious enough to try to poison him, and he was eating it himself recently, he can smell it on his breath too, warm and sweet and...something else unidentifiable.  Elim takes it between two grey fingers and places it in his mouth.  Elim isn't terribly warm right now, but the exertion and adrenaline have notched up his temperature enough it seems as the candy melts in his mouth, and even a little eon his fingers which he licks away.  Maybe it's because he is alive and not dead now as he should be considering the number of people who want to kill him suddenly, but the strange melty thing in his mouth is one of the best things he's ever tasted.  The child just looks at him with large brown eyes the color of the candy and Elim sighs.  Elim smiles a little at him, which he returns shyly.  "Thank you," he says, and peeks out of the grate again.  The way is clear for the moment, and it may be the only chance he gets.  He flashes the child a last triumphant smile and slips out of the duct and away into the station being sure to leave the grate closed loose enough that the child can escape when he chooses to.

    Jules scoots up to the grate and wraps his fingers through the holes.

    "Jules!  Where have you been?  I've been looking all over for you!  We have to get going, child.  We'll be late for our transport."  His mother is clearly more worried than she would be if they were simply running late, but she has been like that since they left on vacation.  She glances about over her shoulder and hoists him to her hip.  Julian's father joins them a moment later and ushers them at a run through the docking ring toward their ship. 
    Julian's parents have been promising him all week that they would get to see lots of aliens when they arrived on Adigeon Prime.  Betazoids and Vulcans and Bajorans, they said.  He doesn't know which kind that one was, but he likes them already.