The Massive Continuity of Ducks

shakespearevillain:

For @bardicious, the first installment of a rescue fic
—
Garak was in a good mood. He’d managed to get some Delavian chocolates. The present was an inside joke at this point, with packages of it passed between him and Julian whenever one or the other got their hands on some. Since Garak had a hard time expressing his feelings, the chocolates became a code – a message expressing love, thankfulness, admiration, loyalty, and several other emotions Garak didn’t want to put a name to. He smiled as he thought of Julian’s face lighting up, of Julian absolutely insisting that he couldn’t eat them all himself, of Julian replicating a bottle of Earth wine that would pair nicely with it. The wine never did justice to the chocolates, but neither of them really cared. It was the idea of wine and chocolates that counted.
Garak stood outside Julian’s door and pulled down sharply on the front of his jacket. The piece was one of his newer creations, specifically designed to show off his neck ridges and made out of a rich, blue fabric that brought out the paleness of his scales and the icy blue of his eyes. He pressed the chime to alert Julian that he was here. He waited a few seconds. Julian wasn’t always prompt with the door, especially if he had romantic plans in the works. However, usually, he would have called out by now – at very least with a “Who is it?”
Ten seconds had passed. He fiddled the box of chocolates between his fingers. “Doctor?” he called.
No response.
Panic surged through Garak. Get a hold of yourself, Elim, he thought as he pressed the chime again. He’s probably just in the shower or…
Fifteen seconds. It had been fifteen seconds without a response. He knew he was going to get an earful from Julian. Something about Federation standards for privacy and how he would have gotten the door eventually. Well, if Julian wanted his privacy respected, he was going to have to come to the door sooner.
“Computer. Access code Garak 1-3-5-9,” he said. The doors to Julian’s quarters swished open.
The first thing Garak smelled was blood.
—
Julian was on a ship. He could tell that much from the hum of the warp drive and the slight vibration beneath him as they soared through space. He wasn’t entirely sure how he’d gotten there. One moment, he had been reviewing The Princess Bride so he could have more accurate points to argue with Garak over dinner. The next, he felt someone’s hand on the back of his head and a sharp pain in his skull as his forehead was slammed against the table. He’d tried to squirm out of his assailant’s grasp, but was stuck with a hypo-spray before he could manage it. Now, he was blindfolded, kneeling on the floor of a ship, his hands were tied behind his back, and his shoulders were strapped to something metal.
“Are you sure this is the human?” a voice said.
“Oh, I’m positive,” a familiar voice said.
Julian tensed. Gul Dukat? What was he doing here? Where was ‘here’? “Gul Dukat?” he asked, his voice coming out more brittle than he would have liked.
“Ah, he’s awake,” Dukat said. He removed the blindfold from around Julian’s eyes. “So good of you to join us, doctor.”
Julian looked around. They were aboard a Cardassian cruiser. He had been tied to one of the support beams. He could see a Cardassian he didn’t recognize piloting the ship.
“Where are we?” Julian said.
“A ship,” Dukat said simply.
Julian glared at him.
“Oh, you mean where are we in the quadrant?” He tapped a finger theatrically against the hull. “Well, we left around thirty minutes ago and at warp eight–”
“Where are you taking me?” Julian elaborated.
Dukat smirked at him. “A good attempt, doctor, but you don’t really expect me to reveal everything like I’m one of your holosuite villains,” Dukat said before turning and walking back to the control panel. “You’ll find out where we’re going soon enough.”
—
“Dr. Bashir has been kidnapped,” Garak said as soon as the door opened.
Miles blinked sleepily at him. “If this is some twisted joke…”
“No!” Garak exclaimed. “I… I just need a ship. A fast ship. I have some idea where they might be taking him, but we don’t have a lot of time.”
“You want me,” Miles said, suspicion lacing every word, “to give you a ship.”
“Yes.”
“At twenty-one hundred hours.”
“Yes.”
“To rescue Julian, who’s been kidnapped.”
“Yes.”
Miles nodded and reached over to the dresser where he kept his comm badge. “O’Brien to Bashir,” he said as he tapped the badge. He frowned when there was no response. “Computer, locate Dr. Bashir.”
“Dr. Bashir is not currently aboard the station.”
Miles was instantly awake. “I’m drivin’,” he said as he pulled a jacket off the rack by the door and rushed past Garak towards the docking bays. “And you’re gonna tell me exactly where you think Julian is.”
—
“What do you plan to do with me?”
“Always so full of questions, aren’t you, doctor?” Dukat said as he got up from the controls and ambled over to the replicator. “Luckily for you, I’m in the mood to answer some of them.” He turned to the replicator. “Red leaf tea, please,” he said. The replicator formed a mug of hot tea. “Oh,” Dukat said just as his fingers brushed the mug. “How thoughtless of me. Would you like anything to drink, doctor?”
“No,” Julian growled.
Dukat shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said, picking up the mug. “At first,” he said as he cradled the mug in his hands, “my plan was to slit your throat and leave you outside Garak’s shop.” He smiled and took a sip of tea. “But, that was before our alliance with the Dominion and before the Dominion heard about you being genetically engineered.”
Julian’s eyes widened.
Dukat chuckled darkly. “Oh, yes. We’ve heard about that. It was a scandal when it first hit Starfleet, wasn’t it? That one of their own was genetically enhanced.” He leaned against the side of the ship. “Personally, I don’t see the problem with creating a race of super-soldiers and I’ve found the Dominion agrees with me.”
“You already have the Jem’Hadar,” Julian protested.
“Yes, but they’re so dependent on Ketracel White,” Dukat commented. He gestured with his mug at Julian. “Apparently, you genetically enhanced humans don’t need drugs to rip someone apart. You do that all on your own.”
“I don’t,” Julian whispered.
“Still playing the doctor, are we?” Dukat said. He took another sip of tea then set the mug down on the replicator platform. “Well, no matter. With the information gathered from you, we’ll be able to make all sorts of humanoids who don’t have your… personal foibles.”
“You know the Federation isn’t going to allow this,” Julian said.
Dukat laughed. “I think the Federation is going to have to deal with our plans,” he said, looming over Julian, “whether they like it or not.”