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Occupation of the Mind	By : Jack-O-Lantern Category: Star Trek > Deep Space 9 Views: 666 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: DS9, nor the characters from it (save for the OC I created within the bounds of the established universe). I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Chapter Thirteen
I did as he asked. I weaned myself off the phrases of death and made it sound more like I was looking for another way to make it better. Starfleet found that more agreeable and set me up with regular counseling and medication. It wasn’t too long before I found myself out of that cell and back in my quarters. It made little difference to me, though I was glad for a place where I wouldn’t be watched by those that didn’t understand. Though he was part of the cause, Gul Dukat understood. It was a private trauma he was in on. Everyone else felt like an outsider. My plight completely alien to their understanding. I drew my pain back in and smiled for them every time they came to check in on me. I played up simply feeling lost and ignored my darker wishes. When asked about them, I glossed over it. A desperate whim. Anything to placate them. I didn’t know whether everyone believed me, or perhaps I’d simply changed myself to their eyes. How many people really understood the longing for death? Every creature is programmed to fight against its end at all costs. Why should I seek it so absolutely? They don’t understand how trapped and purposeless I feel. They don’t understand what it’s like to find yourself inexplicably connected with a man who crushed your people and manipulated you in such delicate, despicable ways. They don’t know what it’s like to need something you prayed every day to be rid of. To be broken.
I was advised to distance myself from him, I was urged to resist any requests, demands, turn away any visits. In order to heal, they pleaded with me to break ties with the man who had overseen the oppression of my people for over twenty years. I couldn’t tell them that, if I could have, I already would have.
Dukat saw this as an opportunity to mend the rift, to overcome the past traumas. Together, he thought, we could make me well again. He thought, the way to betterment wasn’t hiding from the source, but facing it. He wanted to stand in as every Cardassian that had ever wronged me, that I had ever feared. He wanted to, on the behalf of all his people, make things right again. Starfleet wanted him out, they wanted the sessions private. But they were also forced to allow it if I so chose. And when had I ever been able to deny him?
They continued to try to break me away, but only succeeded once duty called him back. They couldn’t stop his daily transmissions though. They couldn’t stop me from answering them. No more than I could stop myself.
Before he’d left, Gul Dukat said to me, “I promise. I’ll find a way to help you. But I need you to promise me that you’ll refrain from doing anything drastic.”
I could envision no future in which I learned to live. My whole life had been following instruction and longing for the day we’d be free because then, then I could be happy. I could revel in life and hope and build something for myself. I could find the things that made me happy, I could travel and see a bit of the world. I could do everything I couldn’t do then. But now I have that freedom I dreamed of and none of those things came. Though I still didn’t understand it, I’ve accepted it. I would never move past. I was stuck. I couldn’t be free. There were still chains somewhere I couldn’t break. Somewhere unseen. There was no possibility of getting better and I couldn’t imagine living a full life wishing I was dead every day. I didn’t know how long they all expected me to do this for.
There had been a time. During the occupation. I’d been terrified every day of losing my life to an errant act of cruelty. I did everything I could to comply and placate them so they wouldn’t hurt me. But now…now I dreamed of dying.
Freedom was nothing like I thought it’d be.
“I promise…”
After that, Dukat took up financial responsibility for me. He forbade me from working for Quark again. And so I was left with no one, and nothing to eat up my time. I feared venturing out alone, without reason. I feared the select few of my people shouting insults at me. I feared the disturbed stares of those that knew what I’d tried to do.
Quark paid me a visit in the solitary weeks after my release. I hadn’t wanted to see him. I wanted him to forget all about me. He asked me how I was doing and I lied to him. He offered me my job back and gave a disbelieving laugh when I told him I wasn’t allowed. I wanted to disappear when his laugh faded and, keeping my gaze, he asked, “You’re serious aren’t you?” That moment was frozen in my heart. I felt sick, and worthless. I felt all of his goodwill until then regretted. I felt his disgust and disappointment. He tried to convince me to ignore Gul Dukat’s order. He tried to tell me what I so dearly wished I felt: that I was free and no one could tell me what to do but me. He would never understand. And that was okay. Because he wasn’t broken. Why would anyone normal understand this..? Dukat understood because he caused it. Dukat understood because this is how he thought all Bajorans should be. I was his perfect, helpless little subject.
I’d fallen to tears as I’d denied him. As I felt his gaze on me, I knew in that moment, he’d given up on me. Which is what I’d wanted…but I hadn’t wanted to see him look at me like that.
I’d been left in silence afterward to weep and feel the pain of the man I’d felt closest to, who supported me after I had nowhere to go, disappear from me with a quiet contempt.
For a while longer I fell apart in my rooms, the only person besides my counselors I ever saw, merely an image on a screen of my captor.
I finally crept from my quarters and wandered towards the Promenade, shrinking away and ducking my head as I passed my first person in the hall. I kept my gaze down as I spilled into the open of meandering crowds and made my way to the only person that had never given me those looks, who had been outcast more than I.
“Tamir! Well, it is good to see you out and about. What brings you here?” Garak came around to meet me. I had kept my promise to him after I’d been released, but the visit had been short and difficult to make with Gul Dukat spending so much time with me. I didn’t suppose he expected to see me come back. I wrung my hands, looking at the ground.
“I don’t know… I’m sorry to intrude. I just…don’t know what to do with myself.”
“Too much free time?”
“Yes…I suppose.”
“Ah… So, it is true you don’t work at Quark’s anymore?”
“Yes… Dukat has resumed responsibility for me. He thinks it’s bad for my health right now to work. But work was all I had. It helped keep me busy and keep my mind off things.”
“You know you don’t have to listen to him, don’t you?”
“I don’t know…it’s easier if I do.”
“What’s easy is not always best, believe me. But if you’d like to hang around my shop, be my guest. I don’t mind the company.”
“Thank you.” Garak gave a nod and resumed his post. “If I may ask, what brings you to me as opposed to perhaps the vedek on station? I’m sure they could offer you better guidance and companionship than I could.” That was complicated wasn’t it? Between my shaken beliefs, my distance, and the contempt with which I’m held…
“I might as well be…like you. My own do not seem so fond of seeing me so close to Gul Dukat. They have become hateful of me. I don’t belong with them.”
“Ah, yes, I had heard something to that effect, but I wasn’t sure if that was true. How unfortunate for you, suffering unpleasantries from both sides. I have personally noticed that your people have a low tolerance for mine—which is entirely founded, but no less unfortunate.” I shrugged, squeezing my fingers.
“Yes… But more than that…you’re nice to me. You don’t treat me the way the others have.” He smiled.
“And what about Gul Dukat?” I looked down. The truth was not the whole truth, but never could I utter such dissent lest his reach his ears. I gripped my hands in my lap.
“He has always treated me better than others. He offered me protection until their withdrawal.”
“Well, isn’t that nice of him.” I pressed my lips into a thin line.
“Yes…it is…” He seemed familiar with him didn’t he? Familiar enough to maybe dislike him? “What about you?” I asked. “You seem to know Gul Dukat?”
“Ah yes, we have a bit of history. Unfortunately unpleasant. He doesn’t feel as kindly to me as he does you—by the way, if you don’t mind my asking, why is that? A station full of Bajoran workers and he takes you under his wing. I’m just curious as to how that occurred?” I gazed down, picking at my fingers.
“I’m not entirely sure. I can never know his mind. I think he often says things I want to hear and not necessarily what’s true. But I can’t tell the truth from the lies. He says it all so smoothly.”
“Yes, that’s him alright.”
“But,” I touched my ear, “somehow he became aware of me. After one of the guards tore my earring out, I was called to his office. He had someone tend my ear, he spoke to me, befriended me. He said he wanted to show me they’re not all bad. He said I was very well-behaved and respectful. He appreciated that. I have no way of knowing how I caught his attention initially for surely he wouldn’t have known anything about me until then. I had never had any interactions with him.”
“Well I suppose that’s very fortunate for you. Usually it was a select few of the fairer sex he chose to place under his protection. You must have been special indeed.” I felt a pang in my chest and squeezed my hand. “It’s my understanding that he even fathered a child by one—but of course, that’s just a rumor. Completely unthinkable. And no evidence has been found to support it, which of course, we both know means his innocence.” Dukat…taking advantage of others before me… Producing a child? I clutched my stomach.
“Why would he still want anything to do with me?” my voice wavered. Just a number.
“Perhaps it’s whatever made you special to him in the first place. Or he’s driven to covet the only Bajoran who will give him the time of day—proof of sorts to himself that he’s simply the misunderstood benefactor of an unfortunate people that could never learn to appreciate him. Perhaps he loves that you validate the visions of grandeur he has of himself.” Am I really doing that? Feeding the monster? Letting him feel like he was in the right? Surely I didn’t have so much influence? No. Of course not. If Dukat wanted to believe that, he could twist any feedback he got to fit that narrative. His beliefs were not my fault. “You don’t look well,” Garak commented. I offered a strained smile.
“It’s fine.”
“I didn’t say anything to upset you, did I?” His tone was concerned.
“No, of course not.”
“I hope I’m not out of line when I say it doesn’t appear that you enjoy his company as much as he does yours. Have you ever told him?”
“Even if that were true, I could never…”
-*-
I didn’t want to become a bother to Garak, but by his invitation I began spending much time in his shop with him. In his down time, he let me watch him hem and mend. He explained stitch patterns and fabric types, and he could go on about all sorts of fashion trends from a variety of cultures. I loved to absorb it all. Listening to his voice provided light distraction from the ever-present feeling of doom. It made it easier to keep my promise to Dukat.
Eventually, he let me practice simple sewing techniques on small scraps of fabric. I loved how tedious and mindless it was. My mind could drift away into this quiet place while my fingers performed the same careful actions over and over. This was an escape from both Dukat and the relentless call of the void. And Garak never treated me any differently from that first day we formally met in his shop. No careful looks, speaking delicately, looking at me like I was some strange pitiful specimen. He was a pillar now that the only person I’d been connected to here had been distanced from me. I doubted I was missed. I think I had gone too far over the edge for him to want to reach for me. And for my part, I was embarrassed by my weakness. So, it was nice that Garak stepped in to save me from endless days sitting in the dim of my quarters where the only contact I would receive was from my grandiose benefactor.
After I had finished a stitch with Garak’s guidance, I set the cloth down.
“Thank you for not treating me any different after what I did.” He smiled.
“He has you in a difficult spot, doesn’t he?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I mumbled.
“Of course you don’t…” he squeezed my shoulder. “What’s that Human saying? ‘Bad habits are hard to break’? While that is certainly true, it is by no means a reason not to try. I think you’ll be much happier.” I wasn’t so sure. In fact, it felt like though I’d wanted more than anything for him to go away and never come back, the more he’d been around, the more I felt like I needed him.
“I don’t think my will is strong enough.”
“It doesn’t matter if you don’t succeed at first. What matters is that you try.” I felt guilt that such helpful words would go to waste on me. I knew already it wouldn’t work. My character was too weak. I wanted to apologize to him, but I couldn’t admit that I’d given up before I’d begun. I nodded.
-*-
Starfleet continued their insistence that I shun Dukat. They told me that if I just pushed him away, he wouldn’t be able to reach me. That if I laid bare his sins, they could take action against him if he didn’t respect that. They didn’t understand. But, between Garak’s careful prodding and the more direct urging from my psychiatric caregivers, and the shame, and condemnation of my people, I began to cave under the pressure to break away from him. It seemed impossible, but I thought about how long he was away for. I thought about his family. I thought about his people’s hatred for mine, grown only stronger now by the humiliation of their defeat. What future could Dukat possibly hope to have with me? I don’t fit anywhere in his life. The military, his people, his family—none of that would allow for me. And what could be so special about me anyway, an old wartime pet? Surely, I thought, he wouldn’t hold on so tightly to me.
My chance came to speak. I had many chances to speak. But finally I was pushed far enough to let the suggestion of “no” roll off my tongue. One evening in front of the screen in my room, as Gul Dukat commented on my troubled expression, I said, “I don’t think you should contact me anymore.” I tried not to pay attention to his expressions. I talked down to the panel. “The reason for our relationship has ended, our worlds keep us apart, and it’s causing nothing but problems. So I think it’s best you forget about me and move on.” I made the mistake of glancing up. His gaze went right through me, burned into me. I blinked, trying to keep it, but was defeated to the ground. He sighed.
“It was always your right to say no… Though I am a little disappointed. After everything I’ve done for you. You always gave the impression that you appreciated it. That you liked me—”
“No, no, I didn’t mean that.” My stomach turned. “I—I just… I like you and I appreciate the nice things, I just…don’t want…”
“What? Them to whisper behind your back? To shun you? For moving beyond your trauma and making amends? Or is it, that you really do hate me?” I teared up and hid my face in my hands. What would he do now? Even if he wasn’t allowed to harass me or retaliate, he knew I wouldn’t say anything. There is no one that could protect me from him. If I continued to push him away, I would never know peace.
“Someone put you up to this didn’t they?” his voice softened. He protected me from the labor, he granted me more extensive medical attention, he ensured I was well-fed, and when my distrustful fellows began lashing out at me, he sanctioned me away from them. He made sure I survived the ordeal and did so kindly despite the silent threat of death he held over me. And after all that ended, he resumed our twisted friendship, he initiated the investigation into my harassment, and when I tried to kill myself he went out of his way to come. He participated in some of my therapy, he took on financial responsibility for me. And here I was throwing it all in his face. I knew it shouldn’t matter, he was despicable, but I couldn’t help feeling like I was wrong. I wasn’t strong enough to fight.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. Please don’t be angry. I’ve never said ‘no’ before, I…I don’t…”
“Shh, it’s alright. I know you feel a little confused right now. Change is difficult. Especially without the support of friends. I know there’s no love for me over there. They’ve probably said all sorts of untrue things about me. I urge you not to listen to them. Don’t cave to their pressure. You know in your heart that I’m a good man. Have I not always provided for you?” I sobbed into my hands, terrified and frustrated. I hated that I wasn’t brave enough to stick it out. I’d never be able to say no. I’d never break free of him. “Tamir. I will always be there for you. If you trust anything, trust that.”
Another wave of apologies came. More excuses for my planned outburst. More tears as I thought of all the effort Garak had put into me only to have me fail him. I pleaded with him again not to be angry and he promised me he wasn’t. He was gentle and understanding. He welcomed my remorse. He wanted to forgive. He wanted to be the benevolent benefactor.
-*-
I returned to Garak the next day, defeated. I didn’t tell him of my attempt, because I didn’t want to tell him about how miserably I’d failed. He’d said what mattered is that I tried. I felt like trying had done more harm than good, because my defeat had been far more pathetic than never trying at all. Oh, how quickly I’d rolled over for him…
“Garak. Isn’t there some part of you that hates me?” I asked in the quiet of his deserted shop. “Your people have warred with and held dominion over mine for so long. Cardassia gave up Bajor and the station and now it’s in the joint hands of Bajor and the Federation. Isn’t there any part of you that wishes I could have succeeded? Any part that could gift me a final mercy to our mutual satisfaction?” Garak took a deep breath.
“Dear Tamir. I love my people and my home very much, but I assure you, I am a simple tailor. Nothing more. Nothing less. I have little interest in conquest and other related political affairs. My only wish is to clothe any and all who seek my services and I would by no means lend my hand to such an abysmal affair.” I flinched as he laid a hand on my shoulder. “You’re the only Bajoran who will even speak with me. And I cherish that.” My eyes watered. Why is it that the ones who understood me most, were the ones I should hate? I started to reach for his hand but felt I wasn’t fit to touch him, so I clasped my hands back towards myself and sniffled, trying to hold back the tears.
“You’re too kind.” He squeezed my shoulder.
“Not at all.”
- 13
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- 15
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Occupation of the Mind