Disclaimer: The Star Trek universe is the copyrighted property of Paramount, and borrowed solely for the use of this story. The story is copyright 1998 by Ariana (ariana@ndirect.co.uk). All rights reserved. Do not distribute without the present header and the author's written permission. Please contact the author if you wish to include this story in an archive. Archived at: http://www.alpha.ndirect.co.uk/trek/ = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Shadows = = = = = = by Ariana (ariana@ndirect.co.uk) = = = = = = = = = = "She stood there laughing I felt the knife in my hand And she laughed no more" - Tom Jones - "Delilah" = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Chapter 1 --------- "I look up to the sky where the sweet Prophets live And wonder which star they inhabit How I wish I could be nearer to them Not spending my life on this lowly ground Where the pagh-wraiths lurk in the shadows" "Dornom system within sensor range," announced the computer, interrupting the recorded recitation. Kira shook herself out of her reverie; she had been thoroughly enjoying listening to Akorem's poetry. It had been too long since she had had the leisure to enjoy some culture. But Doctor Bashir had all but ordered her to take some leave, and this trip to visit her friend on Dornom II was supposed to be relaxing. She was really looking forward to some relaxation. After all she had been through in the past year, it would be very welcome. She checked her instruments as the Dornom system appeared on her screen. Adjusting her course and speed, she prepared her approach. It had taken several hours for the runabout to reach this isolated area of space beyond the Xepolite system; listening to poetry had been a help to alleviate her boredom, but Kira was grateful to be finally nearing her destination. Kira was wondering how her friend could chose to live so far away from Bajor when she noticed a vessel heading in her direction on an intercept course. Its signature indicated it was a Federation shuttle. Kira's heart skipped a beat with dread; she only knew one person who would be flying a Starfleet shuttle this far away from the Federation. It was quite possible Dukat had somehow learned of her trip and had come to meet her. Her suspicions were confirmed when the shuttle opened fire on the runabout she was piloting. Kira immediately resorted to evasive manoeuvres, hoping to reach the planetary system, where she might get help from the Dornoms. She activated her distress signal and increased her speed, still rocking the ship and returning fire as best she could. Dukat was obviously familiar with the Omega pattern she was using, because he soon matched his aim to her movements, landing a couple of direct hits which disabled her warp engines. "Damn!" swore Kira, ineffectually slamming her hand down on the command console. Now reduced to impulse power, she switched to an old Resistance evasive pattern. This kept her out of Dukat's fire for a moment longer, long enough for her to score one direct hit on the body of his shuttle. The blast had very little effect, however, and it was only a few more minutes before another three shots from Dukat deactivated Kira's shields. Kira worked frantically to get away, but her efforts were cut short when she felt the tingle of a transporter seize her. She rematerialised in the command room of Dukat's shuttle. He was standing close by, a phaser pointed at her. "Welcome aboard, Major," he said simply, a cruel grin on his lips. He raised his phaser and shot her. * * * Kira woke up a little later, her head throbbing from being stunned. She could tell she was lying on a bed of some kind -- a detail that did not fail to worry her -- and that her hands and feet were bound, not tightly, but just enough so that she wouldn't be able to walk. At least she could feel the familiar pressure of her clothes against her skin -- he had had the grace not to undress her, though she did realise her feet were bare. This was disgusting. She had always known Dukat was a tyrant, a sadist, an egomaniac, but she had never imagined he was also a pervert. Was this how he treated women, how he had treated her mother? Kira tried to keep still, to pretend that she was still unconscious, but her throat was dry and she coughed. "I see you're finally awake, Major." Kira's heart sank as she heard that familiar, mocking voice, but she let her eyes flutter open and looked around her to find Dukat. She discovered that she was lying on a mattress laid out on the floor at the back of the Starfleet shuttle. There were sheets, blankets and pillows around her, none of them matching and all giving out a musty odour, as if they were very old or had been kept in storage too long. The makeshift bed was set out crosswise, so that the walls of the shuttle served as the head and foot of the bed. It looked as though the bunk beds which must have once occupied this space had been torn out of the shuttle; Kira could see the bolts and slots where they had once been attached. Having taken in all these details by a rapid glance, Kira turned her attention to Dukat, who was squatting on a low stool near the foot of her bed, though not near enough for her to kick him without major effort. He was observing her with the same cruel glint in his eye which she had noticed the last time she had spoken to him, when he had told her about his affair with her mother. Kira began to fear that, in his madness, the pledge he had made to Captain Sisko to kill all Bajorans might have been transformed into a pledge to kill just her. Dukat had always been keen to toy with her, but she now sensed an unusual hostility in his stance. "I trust you're feeling better by now," he said coldly. "It was only a low setting --" Kira assumed that he was talking about the phaser which had stunned her. "-- just enough to keep you still while I tied you up." "You didn't need to tie me up," she spat at him. "Where do you think I could run to?" She could hear the murmur of the shuttle's engines and knew it was still in motion. Dukat looked puzzled and then shrugged his shoulders. "I don't trust you," he said simply, his lips curling into a humourless grin. "Why did you kidnap me?" asked Kira, discretely testing the bonds on her wrists. She was bound with some sort of cord, rather like the belt of a gown. Prophets knew where Dukat had got this, or why he had chosen it to tie her up. "Oh, Major, you know I enjoy your company," he said airily, even waving his hands philosophically. "I just thought I would seize this opportunity to enjoy it more... intimately." The coldness of his voice made Kira shiver. She felt painfully exposed, bound and barefoot as she was, trapped on this shuttle with Dukat. Considering his intermittent madness these days there was no telling what he might do to her. But given the circumstances, and what he had just said, she suspected it would be sexual in nature. Dukat had certainly made no secret of his attraction for her in the past. Perhaps he was so obsessed with her because she reminded him of her mother. That was a repulsive thought. Though she would never have admitted it, Kira had on occasion been tempted to reciprocate the attraction. Dukat exuded a dangerous, fascinating charm that had, given the right circumstances, made Kira hesitate in her unwavering rejection of his advances. Something about the way he moved, the way he looked at her, the inflection of his voice, even, suggested he might be a good lover. And there had been times when Kira had longed for a good lover to share her bed. But now she knew about his affair with her mother, she could only view his attraction with revulsion. He probably only considered her a surrogate for her mother. Or perhaps he thought it would be a great achievement to have bed both the mother and the daughter. Kira glared at Dukat with disgust. "What do you want from me, Dukat?" she demanded, challenging him to clarify his scurrilous intentions. Cardassians tended to be very prudish, maybe she could embarrass him. "All in good time, Major. Now, are you hungry?" he asked apropos of nothing. "I was going to replicate something to eat." Kira shook her head, though as soon as he mentioned the replicator, she felt her stomach rumble. "Very well," said Dukat, standing up. "I'll get my dinner. Let me know if you want anything." "You *could* untie me," she suggested. Though they were not excessively tight, the cords were nonetheless chaffing the bare skin on her wrists and ankles. "If I untied you, I'm sure you would kill me," he answered, pausing halfway to the door. "With what?" she argued. Kira struggled ineffectually with her bonds for a moment, before giving up as she realised to her frustration that there was no way she could get them off. "Is this one of your warped sexual fantasies, Dukat? To see me trussed up like a gettle?" Dukat smiled condescendingly. "Really, Major, you should know by now that I take no pleasure in seeing women distressed." He paused and looked her over slowly. "However, I think I can make an exception in your case." Kira was shocked at the vehemence in his voice. "Why?" she blurted out. "Oh come now, Major," he sneered, his voice becoming louder as he warmed to the argument. "You have never been willing to give me a chance, have you. Every time I offered you my hand in friendship, all you did was slap it away. You can't blame me for being just a little tired of your incessant recriminations. So yes, it does give me some satisfaction to know that you're the one at a disadvantage this time." "What do you mean, this time?" Despite her uncertain situation, Kira was too angry to keep her opinions to herself. She didn't seriously believe Dukat would harm her; he had never done so in the past. Of course, she couldn't be certain, given his instability, but old habits were hard to break, and she felt she knew Dukat well enough not to fear him. "As I recall, you weren't exactly at a disadvantage yourself the last time we met. Or have you already forgotten that I was merely your liaison officer a few months ago?" Dukat smiled sweetly and tilted his head to one side, as if he were looking at a child. "Ah, Major, you've never been *merely* a liaison officer in my eyes," he said emphatically. "And I have not forgotten that the last time we met -- face to face -- was... shortly before my incarceration on the station. But I won't debate such a minor point with you, Kira. Suffice it to say that I don't feel I'm being unfair by tying you up, because I consider the alternative would probably be dangerous to my person." Kira guffawed. "In other words, you're afraid of me." "I wouldn't go that far," he answered calmly. "But I prefer to be prudent. Now, I have to get my dinner. You're certain you don't want something to eat? Soup perhaps?" Kira turned her head away defiantly. She wasn't going to accept anything from him until he untied her. "Please yourself," said Dukat shortly, and then Kira heard the swish of the door. As soon as Dukat was gone, Kira pulled herself up into a sitting position and carefully inspected the bonds on her wrists. He had not tied her hands behind her back, but in front of her. At first, Kira was hopeful that this detail would prove Dukat's undoing, since it meant she could use her hands to try and untie the cord around her ankles. If she could walk, she would have half a chance of defeating him. But although Dukat was gone much longer than would normally have been necessary to simply replicate a bowl of soup, Kira was not able to undo the knot that held the cord firmly around her ankles. The cord was slippery, a little like the brine-soaked ropes Kira had seen during her one and only visit to a seaport on Bajor, and it was wrapped several times around each ankle, just as the other cord was wrapped thickly around her wrists. The knot was of a type she was not familiar with and she couldn't get enough purchase on it to prise it apart. If she wanted to get rid of her bonds, she was going to have to cut them. She quietly cursed Dukat and his Cardassian tricks; trust him to find some unusual way of tying her up... trust him to be perverse enough to *tie* her up, in fact. Anyone else would probably have been content with stiff Federation-style shackles or a force field. But no, Dukat had to put some sexual slant on her incarceration. Kira was still thinking dire thoughts about him when Dukat finally returned with a tray of food. She noticed he had removed his cuirass, and was now wearing a thick grey shirt. Kira wondered briefly whether she should take that as a good or a bad sign. On the one hand, if he got close enough to her, she might be able to hit him hard enough to incapacitate him; she remembered exactly which pressure points to aim for. But Dukat's unusual attire -- she couldn't remember a single time when she had seen him without his armour -- was probably a sign of what he intended to do to her. There was no need for him to remove his ubiquitous carapace unless he believed he would need to undress quite soon. Kira felt a shiver run through her at the idea of what he could do with her while she was tied up. There was nothing particularly enjoyable about her current predicament, but Kira was dismayed to feel the shiver turn to a thrill as it travelled to her lower stomach. Perhaps she had underestimated the temptation sex with Dukat presented to her basest instincts. Even though she knew he had slept with her mother, and despite the fact he was obviously planning to take her without her consent, some perverse part of Kira's subconscious seemed to find this sexually arousing. Firmly dismissing her despicable desires, Kira turned away from him. Dukat initially placed the tray on the floor beside Kira, but then he pulled the stool over and put the tray on it to create a makeshift table. "I know you said you didn't want anything, Kira," said Dukat, apparently oblivious to her behaviour, "but I took the liberty of replicating a second bowl of soup in case you changed your mind." Kira could smell the food and even without looking at the tray, she could make out the scent of Lesarad soup and Larish pie. The sweet smell of jumja which wafted off the soup reminded her of her childhood; Lesarad soup was a middle Dakhurian speciality, and Kira was in no doubt that Dukat had chosen the dish purposefully. He was probably planning on telling her that her mother had first introduced him to it, or something on those lines. "Major, if you want something to eat, all you have to do is help yourself." The high pitch of his voice was so familiar it brought back a flood of memories. How many times had she heard that voice, sometimes serious, sometimes angry, so often mocking and deceptively friendly? Kira couldn't count the times she and Dukat had been thrown together in the past six years. She wondered if the Prophets had chosen him to be the bane of her existence, and if there was some reason they persisted in testing her like this. Until recently, she had thought it was just chance, that her encounters with Dukat were no more significant in the grand scheme of things than the number of times she had met Quark, or Jake, or any other person whom she knew but whose life was not otherwise connected to hers. But now she knew the connection to Dukat went beyond mere chance -- the Prophets were playing some game with her, with them both, bringing her mother's lover repeatedly into contact with her, each encounter binding them closer together, through Meru, through Ziyal, through that pile of duranium that was now Deep Space Nine. There had to be some plan behind all this, some complicated scheme incomprehensible to her mortal mind, some *reason* why the Prophets always brought her back to Dukat. "You seem very thoughtful, Kira. Thinking about me, I hope." Kira sighed and reluctantly turned towards Dukat. He was eating his pie Bajoran-style, taking an occasional sip of the Lesarad soup as he made his way through the main dish. For the first time, Kira looked over the contents of the tray. As she had guessed from the smell, Dukat had replicated two bowls of Lesarad soup and a large dish of Larish pie -- a strange Cardassian-Bajoran mixture, but which he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying. A small loaf of bread was balanced on the edge of the tray; Dukat broke off small pieces to mop up his soup. But as she observed the bread, Kira's eyes were drawn to the sharp, shiny object beside it -- a knife. She felt her heart skip a beat as she rapidly looked away. If she could get hold of the knife, she would be able to free her feet, if not her hands, and perhaps even incapacitate Dukat and take control of the shuttle to go back to Deep Space Nine. But she would have to play things very carefully; she didn't want Dukat to get suspicious and take the knife away. She wondered why he had brought it in the first place. Anxious to draw his attention away from the knife, Kira decided to break her silence. If she could engage Dukat in conversation, she might be able to distract him long enough for her to seize the knife. "All right, Dukat, let's stop playing these ridiculous games," she declared. "Just tell me what you want from me? If you're hoping I'm going to do... what my mother did, you're in for a disappointment." Dukat looked up from his bowl of soup and stared at her in exaggerated su rprise. After a moment's silence, he simply smiled. "Eat your soup, Kira, it's getting cold." His reaction unsettled Kira; it was unlike Dukat to pass up an opportunity to talk about sex with her. And she would have thought he would be delighted to goad her about her mother. Not sure what else to do, Kira tucked her bound legs sideways in front of her so she could lean forwards and approach the makeshift table. "This soup is quite excellent," continued Dukat conversationally. "I was surprised to find such a good recipe in the replicator. I must say the Federation replicators never cease to amaze me with the variety of wares they offer. I can understand Starfleet's desire to include objects and dishes from every corner of their empire, but I'll admit I am puzzled as to the variety of Bajoran and Cardassian delicacies they have programmed. Of course, none of it compares to the real prepared food, but it is nonetheless a detail which has made my extended stay on this shuttle a little more bearable." Kira was suddenly struck by the memory of another meal they had shared, an eternity ago, when he was the captain of a lowly freighter and she the dignitary he was escorting. She dismissed the thought; she didn't want to remember how agreeable Dukat could be when he had all his faculties. If everything went according to plan, she might well be stabbing him in the next few minutes. She didn't have time to consider Dukat's good sides; her main priority had to be getting her hands on the knife. Without answering Dukat, Kira struggled to lift the bowl of soup to her mouth. The bowl was just narrow enough for her to cup it in her hands, but the thick coils of cord around her wrists gave her no freedom of movement. She found it difficult to even tip the bowl enough so she could drink from it. Miscalculating the angle at which the liquid would pour properly, Kira tipped the bowl too far and the soup spilled onto her chin and her uniform. "Here, let me help you," offered Dukat, coming to sit beside her on the bed. Kira cursed herself for giving him such an obvious excuse to come near her. He took the bowl from her hands and put it back on the table. Kira watched as he pulled his sleeve over the heel of one hand, obviously planning to use it to wipe off the soup that stained the front of her uniform. The stain was right on the top of her left breast and the last thing Kira wanted was to let Dukat fondle her on such a feeble pretext. "If you touch me there, I'll kill you," she growled menacingly before he had even finished pulling down his sleeve. Dukat laughed. "You should be more careful what you do with your soup, Major," he said simply. Defiantly, he did wipe off her chin, roughly, as if she were some grubby urchin. Then, very gently, he traced the contour of the stain on her uniform with his finger. Kira could feel the pressure of his touch on her breast through her tunic and undershirt. The thrill she had felt earlier tickled her loins once more; her body evidently found the idea of Dukat touching her breast very exciting. Kira firmly suppressed her arousal and clenched her teeth and fists in rage. Dukat had no right to be touching her like some object, regardless of her instinctive reactions. "Dukat," she warned, mentally assessing their respective positions. She was certain she could wind him with a quick blow to the lower chest; the thickness of the cord around her wrists would even add to the impact. But Dukat removed his hand as soon as she spoke. He stood up with a sigh. "I think there's a cleaner in the command room. I can't have you sitting around in a soiled tunic." Kira was relieved he didn't suggest removing it, which would have been another obvious ploy if his intention was truly to seduce her. To 'seduce' her -- Kira herself was surprised at the word her mind had chosen to formulate Dukat's probable intentions. He had kidnapped and bound her, and yet she thought he was going to 'seduce' her? she told herself, And yet, what she knew of Dukat suggested that wasn't his style. She had some idea how he usually went about getting a woman into his bed. Rumours from the Occupation days, Dax' experience when she was trapped by Odo's subconscious guilt, even what Kira herself had witnessed when she returned to the past, all the details suggested Dukat had an unvarying method of seduction. He might force the woman into his company, but he would always make a point of charming her into his bed. Kira knew he had no chance of charming her into anything, but, provided his madness hadn't changed his sexual habits, she was hopeful she might be able to take advantage of his desire for her to be *willing*. Given how enthusiastically she seemed to be reacting to his advances, she probably wouldn't even have to fake the willingness. However, no matter how much her body might want him, Kira swore she would not allow herself to give in to him. To do so would be to betray everything she had fought for all these years. Chapter 2 --------- Dukat checked that the autopilot was still engaged on its course to nowhere and then looked pensively at the cleaner. he asked himself. The answer was easy enough; she could be stripped naked within a few minutes and then he would know if she was really as beautiful as he had always imagined. Would she cry if he forced her, or would she laugh at him like her counterpart, that exasperating hallucination of her who came, even now, to taunt him in his dreams? He hoped she wouldn't cry -- that would spoil everything. No, she had to laugh or be angry... or be passionate. She had to be the Kira Nerys he knew, the fighter, the soldier, the Emissary's first officer. If she cried, she would be just another woman suffering and he took no pleasure in inflicting suffering. he told himself. Dukat wanted to be a grand lord, like the ones late Hebetian poets sang about. He had never made a woman cry... not if he could help it, at least... Grasping the cleaner in one hand and folding the knife into his pocket, Dukat took in several deep breaths, preparing to confront Kira again. He had to be strong and show her he wasn't afraid of her. Because, of course, he wasn't afraid of her -- the very idea was preposterous. He was simply a little wary of her because he had such clear memories of the hallucination he had lived with for months. The Kira Nerys of his imagination had been a cruel temptress, always taunting him and driving him... insane with lust and frustration. he thought, Armed with these reassurances, he re-entered the back room. Kira was sitting on the edge of the bed, where he had left her. She had her knees tucked under her chin this time, her bound hands resting halfway down her legs. Dukat realised he had been gone a lot longer than he had planned; Kira had obviously found some way of finishing off the Larish pie, and her bowl of soup was empty, too. She had her head bowed when he came in, and he was struck by how young and delicate she looked. She was only a woman after all, he realised, not the fiend she had become in his mind while he was still sick. She was just a mortal like himself, trying her best to live her life and make sense of it all. And, as incredible as it might seem, she was Meru's daughter. He felt a pang of guilt tear at his insides at the thought that he could have been so cruel as to treat her like this. But he could make that all right; he would cut her bonds, he would apologise, tell her that he didn't really want to harm her... Kira looked up as he approached. Her uneven dark eyes fixed him with familiar contempt and she half-smiled. "Oh there you are, Dukat," she sneered, "I thought you had forgotten about me." Dukat stopped in his tracks, as stunned as if she had dealt him a blow. The sarcastic voice, the glaring eyes, the disdainful smile were all those of the fiend who had obsessed him after his breakdown. This was the Kira Nerys he had seen in his dreams and hallucinations, the one who, after reminding him of all his shortcomings, would lasciviously kiss him, but only enough to awaken his desire, until he was so crazed with lust he felt ready to do anything for his vision. He swallowed hard as he remembered how intense his last such dream had been. he told himself. He sat down beside her, forcing himself into her close proximity again, because he knew it would unsettle her even more than it unsettled him. At least he *knew* she wasn't the evil temptress he had imagined, whereas Kira probably still believed he was Evil incarnate. She was bound to believe everything the Emissary said. Determined to keep the upper hand, Dukat seized her chin and drew her face up. He handled her as roughly as he could bring himself to, but her neck looked so thin and white he was half afraid he might hurt her. He knew that was a ridiculous thought and made up for his momentary misgivings by grasping her jaw harder than necessary. "What the hell--?" started Kira, but his tight grip made it difficult for her to speak. Dukat silently applied the cleaning tool to her chin, and then, releasing her face, leaned over to clean the front of her tunic. He was in half a mind to insist she remove the garment, but taking it off would require untying her hands and the only alternative was to *cut* it off. As intriguing as that idea was, Dukat preferred to leave that option for a better moment. Perhaps Kira would indeed taunt him like her imaginary counterpart, and then he would have an excuse to use such drastic means to get his way. The very idea shot through his body like fire and he became painfully aware of how close he was to the object of his desire. "There you go," he said calmly, though he was unable to keep his eyes away from the alluring curve of Kira's breast, concealed by her newly-cleaned tunic. A little embarrassed at his own lack of manners, he moved away, and put the cleaner on the tray. He was about to place the knife there too, but he then decided it was better off in his pocket. "I see you ate most of the food," he said conversationally, "do you want me to get you something else? A desert, perhaps, or a drink? The spring wine the replicator produces is despicable, but I have found a Terran wine which makes quite an acceptable substitute. On the other hand, I have discovered a delightful frozen desert from Betazed which I'm sure you would enjoy." "And how am I supposed to enjoy these delicacies with my hands tied up?" she snapped, showing Dukat her bound wrists. He had to admit that tying her up had not been a very gentlemanly way of treating her, but on the other hand, he was completely convinced that, given half an opportunity, she would brain him. He had seized this chance to talk to her alone and he wanted to make sure he had her undivided attention. "I would help you eat, of course," he explained airily, although spoon-feeding Kira was definitely not high on his list of fantasies. "I've had enough food, thank you very much." Her tone was still ironic, and she turned away haughtily. "Very well, " said Dukat patiently. "Then perhaps we can talk." "I have nothing to say to you, Dukat." Kira had managed to turn her back on him and he was treated to a view on the back of her neck. He observed the shadow her uniform collar cast on her white skin; he admired the fine dark hairs that marked the delimitation of her hairline; he longed to place his lips on her smooth Bajoran flesh. Even though they lacked the sensitive flanges of the Cardassians, Dukat knew how arousing well-placed kisses on the neck could be to a Bajoran woman. The very thought of kissing Kira's filled Dukat with renewed desire. He had originally planned to talk to her, to clear up some of the shady points of their association. Having already revealed the relationship between himself and her mother, something he had always been loath to mention, he wanted to explain to her why she was so attractive to him. He then wanted to act on that attraction. Given the circumstances and her stated desire not to talk to him, he decided to skip the explanation and simply act now. Leaning towards Kira, Dukat breathed in her faint scent. For the first time, he wondered if her scent was any way similar to her mother's. As far as his memory could make out, they were completely different. But that was no surprise: Nerys and Meru were so different it was impossible to believe the two were related. Where Meru had been sweet and gentle -- even a little boring after a few years -- Nerys was hard, strong-willed and stubborn. They were as different as sun and rain, both in looks and in personality. And yet he had found both equally irresistible. Declining for the moment to ponder the irrationality of his sexual desires, Dukat leant forward and impulsively placed his lips on the slope of Kira's white neck. Kira immediately spun around to face him, moving with surprising alacrity in spite of her bound limbs. "What the *hell* do you think you're doing, Dukat?" she spat out, her large dark eyes bright with hostility. "I told you you'll never get from me what my mother gave you. You should be ashamed of yourself, pursuing me when my mother was your mistress. But I guess I shouldn't be surprised you'd have such disgusting tastes." Dukat's first impulse was to be conciliatory, to apologise gently and explain that he was suddenly overcome by her feminine wiles. But he reminded himself that Kira didn't deserve such gentle treatment; she was yet again rejecting his offer of affection, and he was getting tired of her ill-informed recriminations. "Believe me, Major," he said coldly, willing himself to stay calm in spite of his irritation. "My interest in you has nothing to do with your mother. I will admit that it pleased me to observe your reaction when I told you about my affair with Meru, but all things considered, I do believe I would have been more comfortable if there had been no blood relation between you and her. However, there is nothing we can do about that, and it does not affect the relationship that you and I have, which does not concern your mother at all." "I told you we don't have a relationship, Dukat," snapped Kira. "But we do," he told her, leaning earnestly towards her. "I don't understand how you can't see that; we definitely do have a relationship." "Yeah, you're virtually my *step-father*!" The word hit Dukat like a blow. Surely even she could understand that his relationship with her mother was irrelevant, and that there was therefore nothing overly immoral about his interest in her. But given that she didn't seem to see this, he decided to explain. "There's a connection between us, between you and me," he said. "Surely you must have felt it when we first met -- I know you did. It's inexplicable, as if we had always known each other. I recognised you, as if I had seen you in a dream, as if we had met..." Dukat had been about to add 'before', but then he stopped, realising that what he was saying suggested there might be some supernatural connection between the two, as if they had met in a previous life. But that wasn't possible, of course it wasn't possible. "That's ridiculous," laughed Kira, throwing her head back like her imaginary counterpart. She became more serious as she added, "Although if you're talking about the first time we met after the Occupation, then we *had* met before. I... had come to the station when I was in the Resistance." Dukat was pleased to find she was so willing to look for a rational explanation for his strange feelings. He had been expecting her to bring her tiresome Prophets into this somehow, but instead she was actually helping him keep the matter simple. Unfortunately, though, Dukat clearly remembered meeting Kira at the time of Vaatrick's murder; the incident had been abruptly brought to his mind a few years ago when he heard that Kira was actually the person who had murdered the chemist. "No... that was the time I first felt the connection," he explained, not entirely sure if he wanted to pursue this conversation. "You just fancied me," she said with a shrug. Dukat noticed that she was also distinctly uncomfortable with this topic. Curious to find out why this was, Dukat overcame his own reluctance and pursued the matter further. "No, I saw you in a dream," he told her frankly. "As you said, it *is* ridiculous, but when I first saw you, I remembered you... as you are now. Actually, I seem to vaguely recall meeting someone who looked like you, so perhaps that vague memory was responsible for the feeling of déjà-vu." This was the theory he had used to explain his impressions to himself. "After all, like any person, I do tend to have strange dreams involving people I barely know at all, and it is possible that this anonymous woman, whoever she was, made just enough of an impression on my subconscious to creep into my dreams. When I met you, my mind probably established a false connection, leading me somehow to believe that you were the same person, whereas of course --" "It was me," she interrupted. Dukat was silent, not understanding what she meant. Kira swallowed nervously; Dukat admired her thyroid shifting rapidly under the white skin of her throat. "I used the Orb of Time to... go back." She had lowered her eyes and was apparently looking at the rope around her wrists. "Go back where?" "To watch you... turning my mother into a prostitute!" Dukat was taken back by the sudden vehemence of her accusation. "I never did any such thing! And what do you mean, you went back in time..?" He paused as realisation dawned on him; he did remember that anonymous woman who looked like Kira. "I wanted to kill you... and my mother!" she declared. "I should have blown you both up." "You were that woman with Meru," he said, not really listening to her. "You know, I couldn't even remember where I had seen you, but now I know. But I don't understand -- you saved my life." Kira's slanting eyes narrowed. "Believe me, I wish I hadn't. I should have let the bomb kill you both. Especially you." "The bomb. Yes, I remember." Dukat nodded as he focused his attention on that part of his memory. Every detail surfaced once more; Meru's mesmerising beauty, the bomb, the smell of the unfinished Terok Nor, the early days of his tenure as Prefect of Bajor. "I planted it." Dukat stared at her as the full impact of her revelation sank in. He pondered the implications for a while, and then laughed. He knew his laughter was unsettling Kira, and he took great pleasure in that knowledge as he gave his mirth full voice. "Oh, that is too funny. That you should have been the first person to try to kill me after I became Prefect... I must admit, you have to admire the irony." "I don't see what's so funny," she said ruefully. "Why, Major, it's obvious," he declared, emphasising his point with a wide sweep of his hands. "I took my office as Prefect with the firm intention of offering the hand of peace to the Bajoran people. I was young and idealistic, certain that I could bridge the gap between our two peoples. I even found myself a charming Bajoran companion to help me gain further knowledge of your people. And yet the very first thing that happened after I became Prefect was that someone tried to kill me! After that, I found myself caught up in the endless cycle of attacks and retaliations, unable to offer that hand of friendship with the same conviction ever again. And all that was because of you. Oh, I always felt you had an important role to play in my life, Kira, but I had no idea it would be that important. It must give you great satisfaction to realise you're the cause of... all this." He gestured to indicate the dingy shuttle which had been his home for the past few months. Kira's oval face was a mirror of her every emotion as she listened to Dukat speak. He knew, as he saw her eyes widen in sudden realisation, that she understood exactly what chain of events her timeshifting had set off. That first attack had led Dukat to retaliate, and his retaliation was followed by counter-attacks from the Resistance, until both sides sank into twenty years of a slow, devastating war. Who knew what could have happened if Kira had not been so rash as to go back? Dukat was pleased to see that Kira was capable of seeing this as well, but he was disappointed when she refused to acknowledge her own realisation. "How typical of you to try and divert blame from yourself!" she exclaimed disdainfully. "If I hadn't done it, someone else would have, and the result would have been the same. I only wish I'd gone through with the whole thing. I really think the universe would have been better off without you. But to actually suggest that what I did was the cause of all the pain and suffering you inflicted on Bajor is preposterous!" Angered by her reluctance to accept the obvious, Dukat moved even nearer to her, until his chest was only centimetres away from her arm. He was aware that she could easily lash out at him, but this only made him bolder. "You never learn, do you, Kira? You accuse me of laying the blame on someone else, but when will you ever stop doing that yourself? Ever since I have known you, you have been blaming me and my people for every ill you've ever suffered. You view us all with a hatred so blind you refuse to ever recognise that there might be more to us than the cold-blooded murderers you want us to be." "You *are* cold-blooded murderers!" "No, Kira, that's what you want to think. Your hatred is so much a part of your life that you're terrified to lose it. You think that without it you'd become nothing, and you know, Kira, you're probably right. There's so much loathing in you that I'm beginning to think you have no room for compassion or tolerance in that sweet body of yours. Take that blind, irrational anger away and you'd shrivel up like a jumja leaf in autumn, devoid of the sap that has made you live for so many years. Time and again you've been given an opportunity to forgive, and yet every time, you have rejected that opportunity, choosing instead to return back to your benighted view of the universe, never letting any Cardassian convince you that we aren't the evil pagh-wraiths you imagine. And I am not talking just about me; I cannot agree, but I can understand, that you choose to single me out as an evil man. It must be much easier than facing the idea the head of the Occupation might have caused the death of millions of Bajorans, and yet loved your mother and Naprem and Ziyal, and mourned all their deaths as sincerely as you would mourn your own loved ones... if you had any. But I am not the only Cardassian you have ever met, and I'm sure even you will admit that Marritza and Ghemor were perhaps more deserving of your compassion. And yet that never changed you; you remained just as unswervingly condemning in your attitudes to the modern universe, persisting in viewing everything as a dichotomy of pure good and evil. I know you believe your Prophets control your destiny; well, if they do, then they have shown you plenty of shades of grey, and yet you continue to tune out every nuance, forcing every person and every action into one or other of your convenient little boxes." "Is that why you brought me here and tied me up like some slave-girl? To listen to yet another of your interminable speeches?" "If it was, then I am obviously wasting my time," growled Dukat, now truly enraged by Kira's stubbornness. "'Your ears are closed to the words of truth and as the sun shines upon the earth, you hide yourself under a stone like the rock toads of I'dania'." "Don't you quote Moressa to me! You have no understanding of the Prophecies." "On the contrary, I believe I have a much better understanding than you have!" He leaned even closer, until he could smell the Lesarad on her breath. "You purport to believe in the Prophets and the words of their Kais, but I certainly don't see you applying any of their teachings to your own life. Moressa dedicated a whole chapter to the concept of 'forgiveness' -- you don't even know the meaning of the word." "Oh we're back on forgiveness, are we?" she sneered, apparently not in the least intimidated by Dukat's proximity. "Is that what you want from me? Were you hoping that by treating me like this, you could coerce me into telling you everything you did was all right, as you hoped Sisko would when you kidnapped him? Because I can tell you something, Dukat, you can say or do what you want, but I will never forgive you." "Good. Then I will simply do what I want." Whatever qualms Dukat might have had about his intentions were long since quashed by Kira's irritating behaviour. Perhaps subconsciously trained like any Cardassian to view overt hostility from a woman as a come-on -- though he had never considered this particularly appealing when looking for a long-term mate -- Dukat found that arguing with Kira had made him more than a little aroused. If she had been frightened of him, he would not have touched her -- or at least, so he told himself. But he knew Kira didn't fear him, and that pleased him even as it washed away any misgivings he had had earlier. Dukat did not touch her straight away. Aware that his apparent lack of hostility would intimidate Kira more than physical violence, he calmly moved away from her and removed his shirt. Even though he wasn't looking at her, Dukat knew she was watching his every move. Keeping his gestures deliberately slow, he folded the shirt and laid it beside the bed. He didn't know what Kira might be thinking of his bare chest and back, but that didn't matter anyway. He remembered his first night with Meru; Kira had probably seen a naked Cardassian before, but Meru never had, and he could still recall that amazed look on her face... Dukat smiled at the recollection as he carefully consigned those inappropriate memories back to the recesses of his mind. Looking at Nerys once again he was struck by how different the two women were. Where Meru had watched him undress with fear and curiosity, the only expression on Kira's face was hostility. Those slanting eyes, the short dark hair, the porcelain skin... there was nothing in Kira's hard face to remind him of her mother's soft, sweet features. Just as well. It made what he wanted to do that much easier. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Dukat?" Kira had used that exact same question before, but Dukat didn't bother to point out the repetition. Instead, he reached into his pocket and removed the knife, slowly unfolding it so that Kira would see it. He watched as her eyes widened, perhaps in fear; but almost immediately her nostrils flared in rage and she lunged forward to attack him. The knife had evidently failed to impress her. Kira used the extra weight of the rope around her wrists to try and hit Dukat in the chest. He was prepared for her attack, however, and deftly avoided her blow, making her strike him ineffectually on the side. Dukat bore his weight down on her arms, pinning them beneath him as he toppled her over onto her side. For good measure, he grasped her legs between his, effectively immobilising her. Kira winced, probably from the pain of having her bound arms twisted underneath him. Unmindful of her discomfort, which he judged not to be too severe, Dukat seized the collar of her uniform and, introducing the knife into it, started to cut away at Kira's tunic. The coarse material tore very satisfyingly and Dukat took pleasure in defacing this symbol of the Bajoran militia. "You... fucking... bastard," breathed Kira unevenly as the knife gradually uncovered her undershirt. She struggled wildly for a moment, trying to pull her arms out from under Dukat, but then gave up, possibly waiting to catch her breath before trying again later. The brief struggle had ignited Dukat's excitement. He had only been mildly aroused when he removed his shirt, but by now, he was beginning to take this whole plan very seriously. He had always desired Kira -- she was probably desirable to any man -- but ever since what the Federation doctors had termed his "breakdown", he had been obsessed with her. His encounters with Kira's mocking alter-ego in his hallucinations had usually been sexual in nature and although he had never been able to control the hallucination, he felt a great deal of excitement at the idea of at least controlling the real Kira. After all, the two had turned out to be not quite as different as his rational mind had originally believed. Taking advantage of her temporary calm, Dukat tackled Kira's blouse. The thin material was paradoxically more difficult to cut through than her tunic had been; by itself, it did not place enough pressure on the knife for the sharp edge to slice it. Dukat had to bunch the shirt in his hand, and then hack away at it until it parted. The fact that Kira's arms were in front of her did not facilitate matters at all, and he had to manoeuvre around her limbs, careful to cut the material and not her skin. But the effort was worthwhile; Kira's bare chest was gradually revealed and Dukat could even see the tops of her breasts, compressed between her arms. Kira's arms were clearly in his way, so before he had even finished ripping her blouse, Dukat started to pull her closer to the bulkhead, where he might be able to secure her wrists to one of the bolts. Kira naturally had other ideas; she began to struggle in earnest, trying to throw Dukat off her as he pulled her up. She did manage to get away from him, but her inability to walk made her trip over the edge of the bed and fall into an inelegant heap on the floor. Dukat seized her by the rope around her wrists and yanked her back onto the bed. He saw a suitably sturdy and prominent bolt on the wall and hooked Kira's bonds onto it. It was quite low down on the bulkhead, so that Kira's arms were not pulled up too high and Dukat was able to lay her flat on her back. He took some satisfaction from the thought that this was exactly where he had wanted her all these years: on her back and in his bed. He only wished that she didn't need to be tied up; though the ropes were useful, they weren't aesthetically pleasing, or overly practical. It did occur to Dukat, as he straddled Kira's legs and tore her blouse completely open, that the rope around her ankles was going to be particularly problematic if he intended to have sex with her; it did effectively clamp her legs tightly together. he wondered. It was complicated, but, as he sliced through the ties of her underwear, Dukat decided it was definitely worthwhile. Kira was just as beautiful as he had imagined. Admittedly, her breasts were slightly smaller than he had thought, but he could tell her underwear was one of the latest Federation patterns -- he had noticed the same model on the shuttle replicator -- and it was designed to make a woman's bust look larger anyway. So he wasn't surprised that he had made that mistake. Dukat allowed himself a mental chuckle at the idea of a Resistance fighter wanting bigger breasts. The Federation's insidious influence was evidently at work on "Deep Space Nine". However, the size of her bosom notwithstanding, Dukat was delighted with the sight of Kira's naked chest. By the star of Cardassia, she was one of the beautiful things he had ever seen. He would never have thought it was possible, but the skin on her body was even whiter than that on her face and arms. It was obvious that, whatever else she might have been doing under the Dakhurian sun back in her days in the Resistance, she had never uncovered her body to the elements. Dukat felt dazzled by the purity of her complexion; it was incredible that a creature whose blood flowed red could have such flawlessly pale skin. The white was interrupted only by her dark nipples and the "mother line", a long pale mark that ran from her sternum to her lower belly, where her stomach had once been stretched by pregnancy. It occurred to Dukat that he had rarely made love to a Bajoran woman who had not had that lovely mark. Enchanted by the straight line, he leaned down and began to trace it with his lips. Kira flinched and bucked her hips in an effort to push him off. Dukat leaned more heavily on her legs to keep her still and then continued his kisses, inching his way upwards until he reached her breasts. He suspected that her darkened nipples too were a long-term leftover of the time she had spent carrying the O'Brien's child the previous year. Was it only a year? No, perhaps more; that child might be walking already. Whatever. Dukat had other things on his mind than the age of some insignificant human child. Following some irrational instinct, Dukat placed his lips on one of Kira's brown nipples and carefully ran his tongue across and around it until it tensed and rose, probably responding to the stimulation quite independently of its owner's wishes. Kira hissed something under her breath, some Bajoran obscenity he had not heard in years. It just enflamed his desire further; Kira was probably *furious* by now. And yet, he also hoped she might be enjoying this -- at least, just a little bit. He wouldn't like to think his efforts would be met with nothing but indifference or disgust. He carefully teased each nipple and gently brushed his lips over the surface of both breasts in turn. Kira writhed beneath him, tensing her arms as if to try and pull herself away from him. She was breathing more heavily and even let out a sigh of frustration as she failed to get her breasts away from his exploring mouth. Dukat had applied these caresses to enough Bajoran women to know they usually found them immensely pleasurable, and he suspected Kira's intense reaction was due to the fact she was fighting both him and her own instincts. Encouraged by this thought, he continued a little longer, until he finally felt her body relax beneath him. Curious to see what Kira might be making of his caresses, Dukat looked up at her face. Kira was looking down at him, her expression no longer hostile, but more... puzzled. However, as soon as she realised he was watching her, her face hardened. "So you're planning to rape me," she said calmly, her voice disdainful as she stated the obvious. "No," protested Dukat automatically, caught off-guard. He immediately regretted the barefaced lie, and made up for it by reverting to his usual calm persona -- even though he was anything but calm right then. "Rape is such an ugly word, Major. I admit I had to use some coercion to get this far, but believe me, I don't intend to hurt you any more than I have to. In fact, you might even enjoy yourself." "And if I don't?" "Oh, I won't do anything you won't enjoy," he said shortly. "Now, why don't you just let me continue?" Before she could say any more, Dukat pulled himself up so that he was lying on top of her, his bare chest against hers. He kissed her lips gently; he longed for a deeper kiss, but he was a little concerned she might bite him. It had happened to him once and he had absolutely no desire to repeat the experience. Instead, he trailed kisses on Kira's pale cheeks and down to her thin neck. He felt Kira tense up as he brushed his lips down the light blue line of her jugular vein. He knew from experience that the area was very sensitive on Bajorans, so it was quite possible that Kira's reaction was due to pleasure, not revulsion. On the other hand, she was probably planning to hate every moment of this, regardless of what he did to her, so he told himself not to place too much hope in her reactions. Dukat did notice that Kira's breath was growing increasingly irregular as he continued to caress her neck. Bringing his lips back to her face, he found she had her eyes closed and that her lips were parted. He could see her perfect straight teeth between her lips; she looked for all the universe like a woman grasped by the onset of passion. The thought that she might indeed be enjoying his attentions suddenly flooded Dukat's body with an intense wave of desire. This was what he had really wanted; not to rape her, but to make love to her, to give her what she wanted, what they both wanted. Rendered bolder by the hope that Kira might reciprocate, Dukat dared to place his lips on her mouth again. There was no resistance, so he tried kissing her more deeply, gently sliding his tongue in between her lips. Kira parted her lips to allow him access to her mouth, but she didn't bite him. In fact, when his tongue slid past her teeth, he felt her little tongue rising to tickle the tip of his. Dukat deepened the kiss, delighted and excited by Kira's unexpected response. He slipped one hand in between her neck and arm, cradling her head while he kissed her, and ran his other hand over her body, paying particular attention to her breast. This felt so wonderfully right he couldn't believe he had waited so long. Just in case the kiss wasn't enough to convince her how much he wanted her, he ground his hips against hers. The message would be unsubtle, but abundantly clear. He could definitely hear that Kira was breathing more heavily now. He felt her breasts heave beneath him. Dukat took that as encouragement -- he was too excited to read it as anything else -- and let his free hand move further down to unbuckle her belt. It unfastened without any resistance, so Dukat was able to slide his hand into Kira's trousers. Kira gasped at the intimate touch, and he felt her tense up again. Too early. She probably need just a little more time to get used to the idea that she wanted to have sex with him. No need to go too far too soon. There was no doubt whatsoever in Dukat's mind that Kira wanted him. Not only was she breathing heavily and offering no resistance, but the hand Dukat had now removed from her trousers bore the subtle but unmistakable scent of an aroused Bajoran female. That was something he had missed in all these years away from Bajor. Now that he was sure Kira desired him, Dukat didn't feel the need to keep her tied up. He wasn't yet sure if he wanted to untie her hands; he didn't trust Kira that far. While he pondered this question, he returned his attention to Kira's breasts, kissing, sucking and licking their tips until he heard Kira moan. Dukat smiled, his lips still pressed against the soft cushion of her breast. So much for Kira's suggestion that she might not enjoy what he was going to do to her. He decided to untie her ankles. Dukat had determined he had at least two good reasons to this. First of all, he was pretty sure Kira was now aroused enough not to fight him, and her arms, still tethered to the bulkhead, would prevent her from doing much damage even if she did suddenly change her mind. But more importantly, Dukat had noticed that so far, Kira was the one getting all the pleasure. Her sexy little moan had made him even more anxious to make love to her and to achieve that, he needed to untie her ankles and remove her trousers. He *could* think of one or two ways of getting the satisfaction he needed without going through all that trouble, but none of the options appealed to him. He wanted to do this the proper way. Finding the knife, which he had dropped earlier, Dukat reluctantly drew his lips away from Kira's breast and got up on all fours to crawl to her feet, pausing only to place a saucy kiss at the intersection of her legs. The scent there was deliciously erotic and made him even more determined to free her ankles. Once he was kneeling beside her feet, he looked up at Kira's face; she was watching him, a smile on her lips. Dukat decided to take the smile at face value; carefully sliding the knife into the knot at Kira's ankles, he cut her free. Once the knot had snapped, the rope fell apart and he was able to unravel it and throw it aside. The rope revealed red marks and bruises on Kira's otherwise white ankles. Dukat's heart sank at the idea he had done this to her; he didn't enjoy inflicting suffering. On the other hand, he didn't feel he had been wrong in this case, it was simply a necessary evil. However, the marks were unsightly and possibly quite painful. Dukat was about to ask Kira if she wanted a regenerator -- there was one in the front of the shuttle. But just as he turned towards her, Kira, presumably relieved to be able to move her legs at all, tentatively parted them. The movement distracted Dukat from his worries and made him concentrate instead on his desire. Whether the gesture was meant as a hint or not, Dukat took it as one and lay down in between Kira's legs, leaning his face against her pelvis. Her scent was intoxicating and Dukat wondered if he had time to give her some more pleasure before he absolutely had to do something for himself. Taking his time would certainly endear him to her; he might even be able to convince her to do this again a little later. That was a possibility Dukat had not considered before and the prospect of making love to Kira more than once was enough to convince him that he should give her the full benefit of his talents right now. Before putting his plan to execution, Dukat lifted his head slightly; Kira was looking down at him, her lips parted as she breathed in heavily. Dukat wondered what she was thinking. There was no way to find out for sure without asking her, but Dukat thought he detected a hint of hopefulness in her expression. He couldn't suppress a grin as he responded by placing his lips flat against the crotch of her trousers. Kira let out a sharp breath and Dukat grew bolder. He knew she wouldn't feel any gentle caress through the thick material of her trousers, so he used his pointed chin to rub the seam in between her legs. His memory served him well, and he was soon rewarded by another arousing yelp from Kira. This was all going very well indeed. Dukat continued his rubbing for a moment longer, eliciting more moans from Kira and making her writhe in her excitement. Deciding he had teased her enough, he began to pull her trousers down. He was surprised when, instead of letting him undress her, she wrapped her legs around his body, pulling her knees up under his arms. As Dukat followed her movement and lay on her chest, he noticed that she was pulling hard on her bonds to position her body and she winced as the rope presumably chafed at her wrists. Remembering how bruised her ankles were, Dukat realised that her wrists, which were under a lot more pressure, must be in worse condition. He was still looking at her wrists when Kira suddenly leaned her face up towards his, apparently angling for a kiss. Dukat readily responded, kissing her as passionately as he had before, but this time, he wasn't so easily distracted from the pain she might be in. He tried to ignore the problem, but Kira seemed so enthusiastic he felt guilty at keeping her tied up. Without breaking the kiss, he felt around for the knife. Having found it he lifted his face away from hers and reached up to slice the knot and unravel the rope. Freed, Kira's arms wrapped themselves around Dukat's neck and for a moment, he savoured his complete victory over her. She was finally his, this proud resistant, this arrogant warrior had finally given in and allowed him to take her. Intoxicated by her surrender, Dukat kissed her passionately, pressing his body urgently against hers. Her legs were wrapped around his hips, her erect nipples brushing against the sensitive ridges on his chest, her arms holding him close. He disengaged her hold on his neck just long enough to roll the remaining shreds of her clothes down off her arms, and then wrapped his own arms around her half-naked body. She broke their kiss, apparently to catch her breath again; he could feel her body heaving against his abdominal plate. His mind went dizzy with excitement when he felt her tongue flick at his left neckridge. The very next thing he felt was the ringing blow she dealt him. Surprised and shocked, Dukat let out an involuntary howl as the pain exploded in his head. He rolled away as she hit him again, landing an expert handchop which made his neckridge, swollen and sensitised by his arousal, throb with excruciating pain. Before he had recovered enough to even try and counter her, he saw her raise both hands, fingers intertwined, and he realised in a panic what she was going to do to him. Without his carapace, there was no protection for the cluster of nerves under his abdominal plate. Kira bore her hands down on the spot with full force; she must have hurt her hands on his cartilage, but it would be nothing compared to the effect it had on Dukat. His lungs exhaled violently from the blow and his nerve connections at that point were temporarily disabled, rendering him virtually paralysed. After quickly rubbing her hands with a wince, Kira straddled him, pinning him to the mattress while she reached for the cord which had previously bound her wrists. Because Dukat had only sliced the knot in each case, both the ropes were still relatively intact. Still conscious, he felt Kira pull his arms above his head. If he hadn't been paralysed and in excruciating pain, he would have rather enjoyed the view as Kira, naked to the waist, leaned over him, her breasts only a few centimetres from his face. As it was, he promised himself to enjoy the memory on some future occasion -- provided Kira didn't kill him, of course. Kira rapidly wrapped the rope around his upper arms, just above the elbow joint. This forced his shoulders back in such a way that it would be extremely difficult for him to pull his arms back in front of him without twisting one of his shoulders out of joint. As if that wasn't enough, Kira used the cord that had come off her ankles to securely tie Dukat's hands to the bolt in the bulkhead she had been attached to earlier. By the time he recovered the use of his limbs, Dukat was unable to pull himself away from the bed. "What the hell are you doing?!" he shouted as soon as he was able to use his voice. It was a weak declaration, the sort of thing she would say, but Dukat was too outraged at her duplicity to express himself any more coherently. It was obvious to him now that she had led him to believe she wanted him just to get free. She had deliberately seduced him, feigning sexual desire, in order to lull him into untying her. Dukat felt betrayed by her unexpected change of behaviour. But most of all, he was furious at himself for falling so easily into her trap. He recalled someone back in the Occupation days warning him that his interest in Bajoran women would be his downfall. he berated himself. Dukat tried, ineffectually, to kick Kira, but she sprang away before he could reach her. He watched her run into the other room and guessed that she wasn't going to trust the rope to keep him captive. It showed that the conniving bitch had some sense, since she obviously didn't know how to fasten that type of rope securely and he could already feel the knot at his elbows slipping. Unfortunately, he was not able to disengage the bonds by the time Kira returned with Federation-style shackles. Ignoring Dukat's vociferous cursing, she sat on his legs and rapidly fixed one pair of shackles to his ankles, securing them to the bulkhead at that end. She repeated the procedure with his wrists, and then, after a moment's hesitation, she used the knife to cut the cord binding his elbows. The only satisfaction Dukat could get out of all this was that Kira was still naked to the waist and had thus given him a fine opportunity to observe her breasts in movement. It didn't quite make up for the ignominy of his situation. Dukat gratefully flexed his shoulders when she cut the rope, and wished he could rub his elbows, which were numb from even that short time of being bound. Kira was kneeling on the mattress, breathless from her exertion, but observing Dukat's restrained form with obvious satisfaction. Dukat could see the red marks on her white wrists where the cord had chaffed her skin; darker marks, blue bruises, were beginning to form a mottled pattern among the red. Dukat could now easily dismiss the guilt he felt at being the cause of those marks; considering the situation he was in now, he half wished he had hurt Kira more severely. The only regret he felt now was that he had been stupid enough to untie her at all. He was annoyed to find that his arousal, which had virtually disappeared when Kira attacked him, was returning as he watched her kneeling half-naked beside him. She didn't seem very bothered by her nakedness. "And now, what do *you* want from me?" he asked, echoing her earlier question. "The shuttle is on autopilot, where is it going?" she demanded, her breath still uneven. Dukat assumed she had checked the shuttle commands while she waited for the shackles to replicate. "Nowhere," he answered. "I set a course for the next galaxy if you really need to know, not that this shuttle would ever reach it. As far as I know, there are no inhabited planets on our flight path." Dukat saw no reason to lie to her and felt his confidence return as he realised her mastery of the situation was not complete. She might have him bound up and chained to a bulkhead, but there was nothing she could do to change the shuttle's course. He watched with some satisfaction as Kira's face fell. "Of course, you need my access code to disengage the autopilot," he added casually. "Then give me the access code." "No." "Do you want me to hit you again?" Kira was trying to sound menacing, but there was just enough hesitation in her voice to bolster Dukat's confidence. "You can hit me all you like, Major. I am not going to give you the access code. Besides, I wouldn't want to deprive you of the pleasure of beating me up," he added with a sly smile. He was sure Kira would not like to be called a sadist. His smile disappeared when she slapped him soundly across the face. "You're right, I am enjoying this. I should have done it years ago!" Dukat was a little dismayed at this turn of events; he had not expected Kira to admit so readily how much she wanted to hurt him. However, he persevered with his strategy to goad her. "Slapping me won't give you the access code," he said, keeping his voice deliberately calm. "Nor will showing me your feminine charms, admirable though they might be." Dukat let his eyes linger rudely on her bared breasts. Their nipples were still erect and Dukat was beginning to believe it was possible Kira hadn't feigned her arousal after all. Perhaps she really had been overcome by her desire for him, only lashing out at him when she realised how much she wanted to give in. If this was the case, then it was a card he definitely wanted to play against her. Kira involuntarily looked down at herself, as if she hadn't noticed her nakedness. She then searched around for something to put on; since her own clothes were in shreds, she reached for Dukat's shirt and slipped that on instead. It was too large for her, and still revealed a tantalising amount of cleavage. Once she was covered, she gave Dukat a defiant look. "I have no intention of putting myself on display for you, Dukat, even for the sake of an access code." "You didn't seem to mind giving me a taste of your sexual favours for the sake of your freedom, though, did you, Major?" Though he was trying not to show it, Dukat found that Kira wearing his shirt was doing nothing to decrease his desire for her. In fact, if anything, the dark material only further emphasised the whiteness of her skin, reminding Dukat of the delights he had been kissing only moments earlier. The frustration he felt when he thought of how close he had come to his goal, only to have it cruelly denied, made him extremely angry. If Kira freed him right then, he wasn't sure whether he would jump her or throttle her. Being dressed seemed to bolster Kira's confidence. Ignoring Dukat's remark, she demanded, "Give me the access code." "I don't see any reason to," he said confidently. "Your threats of violence don't impress me, Major. I'm sure you're an expert at blowing people up, but the extraction of information is a fine art I'm sure you know nothing about. It demands a subtlety which you are quite incapable of -- slapping people rarely achieves satisfactory results." "I can do a lot more than simply slap you," she remarked, showing him the knife. Dukat smiled, consciously putting as much disdain into the gesture as he could. "I have been tortured before, Major, and by the Obsidian Order, no less. I very much doubt you could do anything to me that I haven't already suffered." "Don't worry, Dukat, I'm sure I can think of something," she said, obviously making an effort to sound more confident than she felt. "I'll leave you to think about it." With that, she got up and went through to the command area, leaving Dukat alone and shackled to the bulkheads. He wondered how long it would be before she came back, and what she would do then. He was certain he could withstand any kind of physical torture; he didn't enjoy pain, but he had been trained to withstand it, and a couple of unfortunate encounters with the Obsidian Order had proved he could endure quite a lot. Psychological torture was a different matter and if Kira was smart, that was the tactic she should use, playing on his desire for her as well as the ties they shared through her mother and his daughter. But Kira, whatever her other attributes, was not smart, and Dukat doubted she herself would want to raise the sort of private issues that might make him break down. There was also a slight possibility she might use his desire in a more physical way, perhaps arousing him and offering the promise of relief in exchange for the information she needed... thought Dukat as he felt his excitement rise. The last thing he needed was an erection when he was tied up and on his back. Anyway, it was unlikely Kira would go far enough with any planned seduction to drive him to a point where he might be so desperate as to give her the access code. So Dukat decided that there was no chance Kira could coerce him into giving her the code, and that he was therefore still in complete control of the situation. His main priority for the moment was to get rid of his arousal. He thought about Captain Sisko. Chapter 3 --------- Kira's mind was reeling. She had to sit down in the command chair to calm herself and try to make sense of what was happening. Half an hour ago, she was at Dukat's mercy, even on the verge of being sedu... raped by him. But now she was the one in control; Dukat was the one who was tied up and in agony -- though he had hidden his pain well, she had seen the black bruises forming on his neck and chest, and knew that her blows had been hard enough to cause pain for days. She rubbed her sore wrists and cursed Dukat for treating her so harshly. There was a regenerator near the command console and she used it to repair the bruises on her wrists and ankles. That bastard deserved to be in pain for tying her up and then trying to rape her. Her mind lingered on the recent memories of his attempted rape. He had seemed very keen to arouse her before putting his disgusting plan to execution, but the worst of it was that he had succeeded. Kira could still feel the arousal he had kindled warm her hips. She could not understand how she could have come so close to simply giving in to him. Something about being so utterly helpless had seemed to liberate her, allowing her to enjoy his unquestionably expert caresses. Kira felt a thrill run through her as she remembered the view she had had earlier, when Dukat's face was resting against her trousers. She had looked down at her white breasts and stomach, down to the scarlet of her uniform, where her legs were spread to allow Dukat's grey features access to... Kira swallowed and let her lips part as her breath became irregular. There was no doubt in her mind that Dukat could have made things very pleasant for her if she had let him remove her trousers. Perhaps she should have let him give her the pleasure he had planned; it had been a long time since she had had a lover to do that for her. But she had probably been wise not to let Dukat know how intensely she had wanted him at that moment. He would no doubt have used it against her in future. And then he had released her and she had held him close, momentarily too excited to refuse his demanding kisses, passively letting him remove her top clothes, enjoying the exotic feel of his scales and ridges, longing instinctively for his hips to thrust closer to hers... Kira shook herself out of her erotic reverie. Dukat had just tried to rape her and she was getting *excited* by it? There could be no doubt that she was thoroughly aroused again and she was more than a little disgusted that she could get so turned on by the idea of such a revolting act. Kira had always despised women who enjoyed sleeping with Cardassians -- not least, of course, her mother, who had evidently been quite satisfied with her role in Dukat's bed. Kira could now see why; Dukat obviously knew how to handle a Bajoran woman. Perhaps she should have let him continue when he was lying between her legs... Kira sighed. Thinking about her mother had temporarily eased her arousal, but remembering yet again that moment when he had kissed her crotch did not help at all. she told herself. . A little voice of perversity in her mind suggested that she could always go back into the other room and take advantage of the fact Dukat was currently tied up. Her fantasy probably wouldn't bother her so much if she managed to act on it. Kira dismissed the thought and tried to concentrate on her current situation instead. She was stranded on a shuttle on a course to nowhere -- there was no time to indulge her libido. Kira checked the autopilot again and tried several of the bypasses O'Brien had taught her, but was still unable to change the course. As Dukat had said, the shuttle was on its way towards the nearest galaxy, cleanly avoiding any inhabited systems and proceeding at warp factor 6. He was evidently in a hurry to outrun any possible pursuit. The comm system was completely disabled so she couldn't even call for help. After an hour of work, Kira could see no alternative -- she needed that access code. Her problem was how to obtain it. Much as it had satisfied her to slap a smug smile off Dukat's face for once in her life, she had no desire to inflict more pain on him. Her own shoulders had ached in sympathy when she had tied his elbows together. It was an old Recantha trick one of her friends in the Resistance had taught her; it had apparently been used on slaves back in the days of the d'jarras. She had only resorted to that -- and the blow to the abdominal ridge, another Resistance trick -- because she needed to incapacitate Dukat as rapidly as possible. Not only did she not feel inclined to hurt him further, but she somehow doubted that it would make him break anyway. She knew he had been arrested and interrogated by his own people at least once, and she was conscious that there was no way she could equal the ruthlessness of Cardassian interrogators. Anything she could bring herself to do to Dukat would be laughable compared to what he must have suffered in the past. It was possible that his years living in luxury on Bajor might have softened him up -- she knew from his security files that he had last been interrogated as a teenager -- but it wasn't something she could count on, and who knew what resistance to pain he might have developed in more recent times? Kira stared out of the shuttle window and tried to think of some way to get the necessary information from Dukat. She could probably try to seduce him, of course. There had been a certain desperation in his lust for her earlier which suggested she might be able to make good use of his desire. But Kira was loath to use such methods, especially with Dukat. He wasn't some anonymous Cardassian like the ones she had toyed with in the past; he was not only someone she knew very well, but her mother's former lover to boot -- trying to deliberately seduce him should be a little like seducing... Captain Sisko, for instance. That was a singularly unarousing thought. Anyway, given her own libidinous thoughts about Dukat, she was afraid that method wouldn't work very well. Kira could well imagine that she might herself be overcome with desire if she attempted to tease Dukat into giving her the access code. As she thought about the problem, she tried to visualise how she could possibly get him excited enough for the plan to work. She wouldn't want to touch him, of course -- she had always promised herself that she would never touch a Cardassian there. No, she would use the well-tried ploy of revealing choice parts of herself to him. A display of cleavage or a bare leg had been known to get her around security guards and soldiers in the Occupation days, and perhaps a slightly more daring approach could wear down Dukat's resistance. Kira smiled as she remembered how distracted Dukat had seemed when she was half-naked. Even while she was tying him up, she had noticed his eyes were on her breasts. Maybe it would be enough for her to be completely naked to convince him to give her the access code. The idea of undressing in front of a Dukat who could not touch her made Kira shiver with excitement. She had always enjoyed the way her lovers looked at her when she was naked, as if she were the most beautiful woman in the universe. She wondered if Dukat would be as impressed, and she smiled as she realised he most probably would be. He had certainly enjoyed the top of her body; perhaps the bottom would be just as pleasing to him. Kira imagined his cruel little eyes filled with desire for her, his ridges flushed and swollen with arousal, his lips longing to suckle her brown nipples, his hips yearning for hers. She was aware that she was getting very excited herself, but although she was still a little ashamed of her desire, she knew she no longer had anything better to do than indulge in it. She placed her hand flat on the crotch of her trousers, where Dukat had kissed her earlier. With Dukat tied on his back, she could do anything she wanted with him. Once she was naked, she could perhaps come close to his face, so that he could see and smell how excited she was. She could make him kiss her intimately and demonstrate those skills he was probably so proud of. Kira closed her eyes and slid her hand inside her trousers. She would make Dukat suffer for all the harm he had done to her and her family. If he wanted her, he would never have her. Maybe she would overcome her revulsion and touch him, just enough to show him what he was missing, just enough to make him ache with longing for her. He would beg her for release, but she would stay deaf to his pleas, leaving him painfully aroused and unfulfilled. Kira let out a series of small cries as her body was flooded by a sudden blast of pleasure. Kira sighed contentedly and leaned on the command console, her eyes unfocused, as she wondered what to do next. She was seriously considering putting her sordid little plan to execution. she thought, . Now that she had an excuse for her behaviour, she felt fewer misgivings at the idea of seducing Dukat. Her eyes focused back onto the multicoloured display and her mind was made up. There were probably some other options she hadn't considered, but this was the only one she could think of right now. She was going to play the evil temptress and be as delightfully cruel as she liked. Anything to get this shuttle headed back to Federation space. Armed with this bizarre resolution, Kira went into the cleaning cubicle and, after using the waste extraction unit, had a long sonic shower. Once she felt thoroughly cleansed, she came back into the front room, still naked from her shower, and looked through the replicator patterns for something suitable to seduce Dukat with. The dress she had in mind was the sort that she had worn when she went back in time to witness how Dukat had seduced her mother. If she could find a similar model, she would look like the Luma she had been when Dukat had first met her; he had seemed rather troubled by the association earlier, so perhaps dressing up as Luma again would score a few psychological points. The Federation replicator did not store patterns for Occupation comfort women, however, so Kira took her time to chose some other style of dress. For some reason, she suspected Dukat would enjoy seeing her in a long tight dress rather than something short. The shuttle replicator was not particularly well stocked in fashionable women's clothing, and Kira knew anyway that humans had no taste in clothes, or at least, so Garak was always saying. In the end, after a very long search, she did coax the machine into replicating a full length dress made of some purple satiny material. It looked vaguely like the dress Dukat had once tried to give her, except that it had a V-shaped décolleté that revealed a lot more than the design he had chosen. There was a mirror in the cleaning cubicle, and Kira used it to touch up her makeup. she asked herself as she watched her reflection in the mirror. Here she was making herself look pretty and sexy for *Gul Dukat*? she answered herself. Once she was satisfied with her appearance, Kira came back to the front of the shuttle and sat in the command chair. She hoped she could stay in character and be as cruel as she had imagined in her fantasy. Otherwise, she would simply be making a fool of herself, and in front of Dukat, no less. She was no longer sure if she could do this. Kira's eyes fell on the bright lights of the command console and then looked up at the dark expanse of space, speckled with stars that the shuttle was never going to visit. She had to turn this vessel back, or she would never see Deep Space Nine and all her friends again. She had to go back, to help in the war that bastard Dukat had helped start, to hand him back to the Starfleet institution he should never have left. And if this was the only way to get the access code, this was what she had to do. Taking a deep breath, Kira got up and headed confidently for the back door. Before entering, she ordered the computer to reduce the lighting in the shuttle. If she was going to make a fool of herself, at least she would do it with discreet lighting. Finally convinced that she was just about as ready as she would ever be, Kira opened the door and entered. Dukat was lying where she had left him -- naturally -- but he was lying on his side, in a position which was probably very uncomfortable, but which presumably gave him a good view on the door. "Hmm. You're looking very good," he said appreciatively. "I'm afraid you're a little late for a dinner date, though. I've already eaten." Kira was already regretting her decision. It had been very naive of her to believe that she could actually keep her cool long enough for the plan to work. But now she was here, and dressed like this, she had no choice but to continue. "I know," she answered, still standing in the doorway. "Then why the evening dress?" "Don't you like it?" If in doubt, always answer a question with another question. "It's beautiful, and it definitely suits you." Kira could see Dukat's eyes running up and down her body; she had evidently chosen well. "You look very sexy like that," he continued, looking her straight in the eye. "In fact, if I didn't know better, I would say you were planning to seduce me, Major!" So far, aside from taking a good look at every curve the dress emphasised, Dukat seemed rather amused than anything else. But Kira told herself she had to give the plan time to work. The thing to do was to concentrate on being cruel and cold, and not let his comments get to her. "Now why would I want to seduce a dirty old man like you, Dukat?" she responded, putting just a little of the mirror universe Intendant into her hips as she approached the bed. In spite of the tight dress, she managed to lie down gracefully on the bed, propping her head up on some of the musty pillows strewn around the mattress, so that she was reclining against the bulkhead Dukat's feet were shackled to. "You might want me to give you the access code," said Dukat calmly, turning onto his back. "I'm not *that* desperate." "Oh, come now, Major, I'm sure you agree our earlier encounter was quite... stimulating, no? Perhaps we could resume where we left off." Kira shook her head. "In your dreams, Dukat. I don't sleep with men who try to rape me." "Then why the dress?" He sounded merely curious, but he had been staring quite persistently at the shadow of her cleavage. "I couldn't go around wearing your smelly old shirt, could I? And there was no hope of replicating another uniform." This game wasn't so difficult to play after all. "I somehow doubt that you would have chosen that particular dress if you had been in the company of, say, Captain Sisko." "Then why do you think I chose it?" "I think you chose it because it looks a little like the dress I tried to give you a few months ago." "It does? I wouldn't know. It's not as if I looked at that dress," she lied. "No, I presume you just pulled it out, unfolded it and shoved it back into the satchel all with you eyes closed?" Kira let his uncovering of her lie pass. "But why do you think I would want to wear that particular dress now?" "To unnerve me," he said seriously. "To remind me I gave it to Ziyal." "To Ziyal?" echoed Kira, thoroughly puzzled. She had no idea what might have happened to the dress after she had returned it. "It doesn't matter," said Dukat shortly. "Anyway," he continued with more aplomb, "you can be sure the model I had selected was not as revealing. But I particularly like the décolleté on yours. It is a pity you don't wear those sorts of clothes more often. You have a beautiful complexion, you should show it off more." "Surely you had rather see me dressed as I was earlier." "With just the trousers on?" Dukat grinned. "I must admit that was a very pleasant sight indeed." "You like my breasts, don't you, Dukat?" Kira had no idea why she felt compelled to say something so crass. She was here to play the cold-hearted temptress, not to tease him like a low class whore. She was afraid Dukat would laugh at her, but instead, he simply said, "They *are* very beautiful, but you know I like the whole of you, Major." Having come this far, Kira began to feel reckless. "Better than you liked my mother?" she asked coldly. Dukat sighed. "I told you Meru is completely irrelevant to the way I feel about you, Nerys. You're as different as rain and sun; you don't look the same, you don't sound the same, you react completely differently to similar situations. If I had met you... *when* I met you at the time I met your mother, I wasn't interested in women like you. If your mother had been as ill-tempered and stubborn as you are, she wouldn't have been my mistress. But Meru was the woman I wanted at the time, and, now that I'm thirty years older and far more mature in my tastes and views, you're the woman I want now. The fact that you are related to Meru and that I happened to pay for your food as a child has absolutely no bearing on the situation whatsoever." "I was wondering when you were going to mention how you paid off my father," growled Kira, her determination to be calm suddenly forgotten. "I suppose you think I owe you something, that I should sleep with you out of gratitude for the food you put in my mouth as a child!" Dukat's eyes widened in outrage. "I never suggested any such thing! That arrangement was between myself and your father. Again, this has absolutely nothing to do with our present situation. I am not naive enough to believe that you would ever show me gratitude for anything I might have done for you -- that isn't a Bajoran trait... Anyway, Major, much as I would love to discuss your family history and the wrongs of the past, I would like you to know that it is no longer necessary for me to be tied up. I would be... grateful to you if you could at least untether me from this bulkhead. This position is most uncomfortable." "Good. You're staying like that, Dukat, until you give me that access code." "You don't seriously believe that simply keeping me tied up like this is going to convince me to give you the access code? If necessary, I can stand this position much longer. However, I really don't see any point in you keeping me tied up like this. I may have tied you up earlier, but you will have noticed that *I* did not leave you chained to the bulkhead like a gettle." "You did attach me to that hook," she remarked, pointing to the bolt near his head. A little half-smile wrinkled Dukat's features as he followed her gesture. "That was only when I was overcome by my enthusiasm for your person. But I certainly didn't leave you with untreated bruises all over your face and chest." Kira looked Dukat over in silence. The bruises, which were black by now, did look painful, especially the one on his chest. She could also imagine that the position he was in, stretched between the bulkheads, wasn't particularly comfortable either. Dukat had rolled onto his back again at the beginning of their conversation, but he still looked as if he might be in some discomfort. This pleased Kira immensely. Her long silence seemed to make Dukat nervous. "Pardon me for interrupting your examination of my person, Major, but would it be possible for you to get me a regenerator?" Kira briefly considered whether she would be able to get up elegantly without tripping over her long dress or otherwise humiliating herself. Uncertain as to whether that would work or not, she chose to delay finding out. "I don't see any point in getting you a regenerator, Dukat," she said with a cruel little smile. "You wouldn't be able to use it anyway." She looked up at his shackled wrists. "Surely you could help me?" "What's the first digit of the access code?" "I'm not going to play games with you, Kira." "Oh, really? I suppose I had better change out of this dress, then. And I thought Cardassians were so fond of games." "If you had any specific games in mind involving that dress, I'd be glad to comply." Despite being tied up and presumably in pain, Dukat was looking and sounding every bit like his old self and Kira was longing to put him down a peg or two. She wondered if she could indeed use seduction to rattle Dukat a little. That had been the 'game' she had in mind when she replicated the dress, after all. Sitting up, Kira shifted her position so that she was lying on her side, her body roughly perpendicular to Dukat's, her legs folded as she leaned up on one arm. This position gave him a better view of her cleavage and the prominent curve of her hips, and also placed her closer to his naked chest. "Is there anything you'd like me to do for you, Major?.. aside from give you the access code," he added, realising what she would say. "I'm sure I can think of a couple of things," she said, trying her very best to sound sultry without sounding sluttish. "But surely you'd like me to use the regenerator first." "And what do I have to do in exchange for that?" Kira leaned forward, conscious that this made her cleavage even more prominent. "You could give me the access code, perhaps?" "The first digit?" Dukat's eyes were predictably glued to the triangular section of skin the dress revealed on Kira's chest. "All right." "Sebale." "Sebale?" That was neither a letter nor a number. "You don't think I would be stupid enough to have an access code made up of *digits*, did you? Any computer can crack that." "So you're using a coded message instead," said Kira neutrally, though her mind was pondering this unexpected turn of events. No wonder none of O'Brien's bypasses had worked. "A series of totally unconnected words," he explained. "Ingenious, isn't it?" he added with a grin. "I could have you doing me services for ages before you would have the complete code." "If you're so looking forward to it, then perhaps I shouldn't get you the regenerator at all. You can lie there and get me to perform my 'services' while you're in pain." Kira was furious at his smugness. She had to find a way to unnerve him. "You promised to repair my bruises if I gave you the first part of the access code. Now that you have it, I expect you to fulfil your side of the bargain." Kira moved until she was on all fours, leaning down slightly to place her bust level with Dukat's eyes. The position was not very dignified, but it had the desired effect. Dukat looked mesmerised. "Don't worry, I'll go and get it now," she said softly. For once, Dukat was silent as she got up without tripping and went into the other room to fetch the regenerator. Alone in the command room, Kira checked again that there was no hope of disengaging the autopilot herself. Once she was finally convinced that she couldn't, she turned to the replicator. She was about to order a raktajino to calm her nerves when she decided something stronger might be advisable, and ordered a glass of spring wine instead. Dukat was right; the Bajoran spring wine that had been programmed into the replicator was more bitter than the sort she preferred. Kira looked through the pattern shortcuts Dukat had set up and found the Terran wine he had mentioned. This one wasn't bad at all; it was only synthahol, of course, and Kira knew she could sober up very rapidly if necessary, but after a couple of glasses, she was beginning to feel more relaxed, and could even contemplate the possibility of seducing Dukat with some humour. While she drank her third glass, Kira rummaged around the shuttle command room and found that most of the Federation phasers were still in the arms locker, though another one, only half charged, was lying beside Dukat's discarded armour in a corner. It occurred to her that she should be returning to Dukat; she had promised to bring him the regenerator in exchange for the first word of his access code. She suspected that, if she didn't keep her word, nothing would convince Dukat to give her the rest of the code. It was a ridiculous situation, but Kira didn't think there was anything else she could do. To be on the safe side, however, she took one of the unused phasers out of the arms locker. Dukat did not look at all pleased when Kira returned. "Ah there you are, Major," he sneered sarcastically. "I was afraid you might have got lost. I realise you have turned the lights down, but surely even you could find a regenerator in lighting like this." Kira's temper flared up at Dukat's mocking tone. She approached the bed with a deliberate swing in her hips, but instead of kneeling down to cure Dukat's wounds, she just stayed standing, towering over Dukat in what she hoped would be an intimidating posture. "You continue like this, Dukat, and I won't be using this regenerator at all." "You seem to forget that I am the one who has the access code." "You seem to forget I'm the one with the phaser." To emphasise her point, Kira directed the phaser at him, extending her arm and drawing herself up to her full height. Dukat's craggy grey features cracked into a smile. "Ah yes, and you really enjoy that, don't you, Major? Finally an opportunity to see me strung up and at your mercy. This must really please you." Kira returned his insincere smile. "I must admit it gives me some perverse pleasure." She had some recollection of Dukat saying something similar to her once. "Perverse pleasure, hmm?" Dukat chuckled and looked her over with a feral grin. "Do you have idea how irresistible a woman with a phaser can be to a man?" "To you, you mean." "Well..." Dukat looked around. "I *am* the only man here." Kira put her hands on her hips, resting the phaser on one hip, and the regenerator on the other. The posture curved her back and pushed her bust outward, as she moved one leg forward so that it would be well outlined by the shimmering dress. She had once worn a long nightgown when she was with Shakaar and she had tried out this pose in front of a mirror. She knew it would emphasise all her sexual attributes and she wondered what effect it would have on Dukat. Outwardly, the man showed no change in his emotions, but his voice was a little husky as he said, "And *you* are quite a sight to behold. I had never imagined I would see you looking so... intriguing." Kira got the impression that was not the word Dukat had originally planned to use. "Now, why don't you come down here and show me you know how to use that regenerator." "You had better watch what you say, Dukat, or I'll come down there and show you I know how to use this phaser." Dukat nodded his amused agreement. "Major, I'll say anything you like if you come down here." Kira was tempted to demand the access code again, but decided that would probably achieve no more than irritating Dukat. Instead, she lifted her dress slightly and then knelt down on the bed beside him. "So now that I'm down here, what are you going to say?" she teased. "That you are beautiful and that I want you very much." It was unlike Dukat to be so blunt and Kira momentarily didn't know what to say. "Come now, Nerys," he purred seductively. "You know you want me too." "And whatever made you come to that conclusion?" "Years of observation," he said with a grin. "And I may not have the acute senses of a Klingon, but I do know when a Bajoran woman is enjoying what I'm doing to her. You wanted me to continue." "I didn't." "There's no point denying it; I do know the reactions of Bajoran women very well, and you were definitely very enthusiastic." "I guess you do know the reactions of Bajoran women," she said disdainfully. "You must have got a lot of practice during the Occupation. In fact, I'm beginning to wonder where you found the time to sign all those death warrants!" "It pleases me immensely to hear you say that. It was actually going to be my main line of defence if I was tried by the Federation." "I doubt it would have helped." "Oh, I don't know. I think the humans might have been convinced. Of course, it's not an argument that would have worked in a Cardassian or Bajoran tribunal. But then, in both cases, I would have been condemned to death before the trial even began. At least the Federation has no death penalty." "Neither has Bajor," said Kira defensively. "You and I both know they would have made an exception in my case. Now, perhaps you could be so kind as to use that regenerator, since you went through all the trouble of going to get it." Kira hesitated for a moment and then nodded. Leaning over Dukat, she applied the regenerator to the black bruise on Dukat's bare chest. He hummed appreciatively as the contusion disappeared. "Oh, that is much better." "Glad to know you're enjoying yourself," said Kira dryly as she turned her attention to his neckridge. "I will admit that I can think of worse situations. My pain is being relieved and I have a nice view." Kira's bust was once more at Dukat's eye level. "Of course, I would be far more comfortable if I weren't shackled to the bulkhead." Kira turned off the regenerator and straightened up. "All you have to do is give me the access code, and I'll untie you." "And aside from untie me, what would you do once you had the access code?" Dukat's ironic tone of voice made Kira's hackles rise. Sweet Prophets, she hated it when he spoke like that. "I'd bring you back to Starfleet so they can put you back in prison where you belong," she told him bluntly. "Ah. That doesn't sound too good for me." Dukat smiled and ran his gaze over Kira's tightly-clad body. "I'd have to have a very good incentive to agree to it." "You don't have to agree to it," she snapped. "You're my prisoner. You'll do as I say." "I'll admit that you have complete control of my person, Major," he sneered, "but I don't see what advantage this brings you, considering you can't bring me back to Federation space. You can keep me tied up for as long as you like, but the fact is that without the access code, you're condemned to stay here on this shuttle with me. The shuttle will eventually run out of fuel, and then we'll both be stranded in intergalactic space for the rest of our lives." Kira had not considered this possibility before, and it made her realise the true extent of Dukat's madness. "Was that your plan when you kidnapped me? To rape me and keep me tied up on this shuttle until we ran out of fuel?" "Major," said Dukat, his voice denoting exaggerated outrage, "you don't seriously believe that was my intention." "Then what was your intention?" Dukat lowered his eyes thoughtfully, and it occurred to Kira that he probably hadn't thought that part out at all. "It doesn't matter what I had planned," he said. "My plans have changed. My main priority right now is to avoid giving you the access code... which shouldn't be too difficult a task," he added with a grin. The condescending grin made Kira bristle with anger. "Don't be so sure, Dukat. I have no intention of dying here on this shuttle with *you*! We're going back to Federation space, I promise you that." "I look forward to discovering how you plan to achieve that, Major. I suppose you could try and dismantle the entire shuttle, but I'm not sure even I could disable the autopilot that way." Kira huffed in irritation and turned away defiantly, but she knew Dukat was right. She did have extensive knowledge of Federation ships, but she was not an engineer, and she had already tried everything she could think of to bypass the access code. "So your only option is to obtain the access code --" "Yes, I know," she snapped angrily. "We've been through this before." "Frustrating, isn't it, Major," he teased cruelly. "You have me all trusted up and ready to deliver back to your Federation masters, but you have to rely on my cooperation to turn the ship back. You must admit it is ironic." Furious, Kira swung round and, since that was what she was holding, she struck Dukat across the face with the regenerator. A sharp edge on the instrument tore the skin just beneath Dukat's right eyeridge and a few drops of black blood trickled down the wrinkles of his cheek. "Violence will get you nowhere, Major," growled Dukat, angered by her unexpected blow. Kira was beside herself with rage. "I'd advise you to keep your sarcasm to yourself," she spat out as if he hadn't spoken. "I might not get the access code, but it would give me great pleasure to silence you, Dukat. I've put up with this for years -- your bombastic speeches, your disgusting advances, your paltry sarcasm, your pathetic pleas for forgiveness. I've had more than enough of it. So if I hear one more comment out of you, believe me, you *will* wish the Obsidian Order were here instead of me." Dukat looked horrified. He was gaping at her, his blue eyes round with astonishment. Something in her speech had evidently caught his attention and hit home. Pleased to find she had indeed silenced him, Kira continued in the same vein, "I despise you, Dukat. Captain Sisko thinks you're evil incarnate, but you're not. You're just a jumped up little dictator with an overblown ego and an overactive sex drive. You're not evil, you're pathetic." She spat out the word to maximum effect. This was obviously the right way to rattle him. Dukat looked terrified, staring at her as if she were some evil apparition. Kira savoured the sight and leaned towards him to give him another view of her cleavage. "You said I wanted you, but you were wrong. I like powerful men, remember? How could you possibly imagine I would be turned on by someone like you. You're just a sad old loser, Dukat. I don't have time to waste on you!" Kira had no idea where she was getting all this from, but Dukat seemed impressed. She watched as he swallowed nervously and then looked away, closing his eyes as if to shut out the vision of her breasts. "This isn't right," he muttered. "You're the real Kira Nerys. You're not her." Kira wondered if he was referring to her mother, but did not have time to wonder for very long. Taking in a deep breath, Dukat reopened his eyes, and, in a voice that was far too controlled to be natural, said, "It won't work, Kira. You can't keep this up." "What *are* you talking about, Dukat?" she exclaimed, even allowing herself a delighted Intendant-like smile. "You are really a despicable piece of sentience. You don't even have your whole mind. You're talking rubbish!" "You're trying to unsettle me by behaving like some lunatic temptress," said Dukat, his tone a little less strained. "But I know you, Kira, you can't go through with this. You wouldn't be able to keep up the pretence of despising me." "What makes you think it's a pretence?" Kira could feel herself slipping back out of character again. "I really do despise you." "No. If you did, you wouldn't be so obsessed by what I say and do. You might hate me, but I don't think you really despise me." Kira knew she had to keep a grip on her emotions. She had been doing so well; she knew she had really got through to him at one point. She needed to surprise him again. It didn't take her long to think of a way to do that. She was still leaning over Dukat. Lowering herself until her mouth was only a few centimetres from his lips, she whispered, "I do despise you, Dukat." She moved her face closer still. Her arms were aching with the strain of supporting her body, but she could tell she had Dukat's entire attention. She pulled out her tongue and ran the tip very gently along his thin lips. Dukat caught his breath and tried to capture her tongue in his mouth, but she pulled back, ignoring the pang of protest from her arms. Moving into a more comfortable position where she could lean against Dukat's side, she avoided his offered mouth and placed her lips instead on the scratch on his cheek. It was thin and nearly healed already, but she could taste the saltiness of Dukat's blood. Overcome by the eroticism of the taste, Kira sought out Dukat's mouth and kissed him deeply. Kira was excited, so excited she could barely breathe. She could smell Dukat's overpowering pheromones, and it seemed as though they were running through her entire body, firing her desire. She realised she had underestimated how much she wanted Dukat. He was a pathetic, middle-aged, perverted Cardassian dictator, but he was also one of the most... exciting men she had ever met. She broke the kiss and lay on top of him. She was half-afraid that he might say something to break the spell she seemed to be under, but he thankfully remained silent and she was able to enjoy kissing him a little longer. She was enjoying this a little too much, she soon realised. Her plan wasn't going to work if she gave in to her desires. It was Dukat she needed to arouse, not herself. Reluctantly, she drew herself away from his lips. Lifting up her tight dress, she was able to straddle his stomach, her naked hips resting against his scaly skin. The sensation was unusual, but not unpleasant, and Kira closed her eyes to enjoy it for a moment. Dukat could be in no doubt whatsoever about her desire for him now. But she had to concentrate on her plan. She opened her eyes and looked down at him. There could be no doubt that Dukat was as aroused as she was. His neckridges were flushed and swollen, compressed by his shackled arms. His lean chest was rising and falling rapidly, his entire attention focussed on her, his blue eyes reduced to slits by his excitement. He looked so different from his usual cool self that she couldn't help smiling. Satisfied with the effect she was having on him so far, Kira decided she could dispense with the dress. She seized the rucked-up skirt and pulled it up, along her stomach, over her breasts, over her shoulders and finally off over her head. She threw the dress away in a corner. Kira smiled wickedly as she saw Dukat's eyes widen. His lips parted and he let out a long, deep breath. Kira shifted her body back, until she was sitting on Dukat's hips. She could feel the dampness of his natural lubrication permeating his trousers. Dukat bucked instinctively against her as she sat on him; he moaned loudly and closed his eyes as his body shuddered in a sudden spasm of pleasure. The air was heavy with the scent of his pheromones; Kira wasn't sure what had happened, but it was a while before Dukat had recovered enough to reopen his eyes. "Oh, I want some more of that," he murmured. "Seems like you're easily pleased," said Kira, though she was puzzled as to what had happened. The hardness beneath her hadn't yet diminished, but she was afraid her scheme might have backfired completely. Dukat sighed and grinned. "I'm sorry; that caught me unawares, too. You're very stimulating, Major." "Is that *it*?" she blurted out. She had expected Dukat to have more stamina than that! Predictably, Dukat laughed. "Oh, no. No, it isn't, my dear. I am Cardassian, remember, not one of your feeble Bajoran lovers. I can take as much pleasure as you can give." "Oh," was all Kira could say. She remembered someone had told her that Cardassian men could have one or more orgasms before ejaculation, making them more similar to Bajoran women than Bajoran men. She had always dismissed that as a myth, but she now found the thought it might be true surprisingly erotic. "Now, I suggest you untie me and let me do something for you," said Dukat suavely, probably noticing how she had licked her lips. "I'm not that stupid, Dukat," she snapped breathlessly. "You're staying tied up until we get back to Federation space." "So what's the point of all this?" he asked, sounding as relaxed as if he were sitting in his old office at Terok Nor, rather than shackled to the bulkhead of a Federation shuttle. "If it is simply your pleasure, then I am certainly willing to comply, but I'm afraid these shackles do nothing for me in that respect." "I think they suit you." Kira knew she needed to get back in control of the situation. He had apparently enjoyed having her move against his hips; she repeated the manoeuvre and was pleased to see his smug smile disappear. Encouraged, Kira shifted further down his body, so that she was sitting on his thighs. Breathing heavily in spite of herself, she outlined the contours the thick trousers concealed, smiling with delight as she felt Dukat's muscles tense beneath her fingers. She was careful not to make the caresses too stimulating; she didn't want him to enjoy himself too much too soon. Running her hands back up to where his ventral ridge appeared above his trousers, she curled her fingers under the waistband and pulled it towards her. She lifted her eyes towards Dukat's face; his attention was concentrated on her hands, his lips parted to let out his uneven breath. She uncovered him and looked down to see what was there. She was relieved to find that what she saw was quite familiar, though covered with a fine sheen of lubrication. The scent was very different, but it shot to her head like a drug, making her dizzy with excitement. It took a tremendous effort to control herself as she backed up further, until she was on all fours, her legs spread over his and her face close to his hips. She wondered how far she could push him and if this would indeed convince him to give her the access code. Breathing in his alien scent, she pursed her lips and blew steadily on his groin. Kira watched as Dukat groaned and writhed, still keeping his eyes on her. Perhaps he understood the promise in her gesture and was hoping she would go through with it. Though she considered it , Kira decided there were limits to what she would do for the access code. She ran her hand over his bare skin instead, making a conscious effort to ignore its sliminess and concentrate instead on the exotic sight of pink flesh hidden by dark grey skin. she thought in astonishment. This part of the Cardassian anatomy shared the same bright colour as the inside of their mouth; Kira so aroused by this surprise that she quite forgot about her misgivings of only a moment earlier. Leaning down, she flicked her tongue across the pink tip. She heard Dukat let out a moan and murmur, "Oh yes... that's good." The sound of his voice reminded her why she was doing this -- not, of course, because she wanted to, but because she had to. She continued what she was doing just a little longer, listening as Dukat's moans intensified and he was losing control enough to tell her to "keep going." She immediately stopped and sat up, still straddling his legs. "What are you doing?" he growled in frustration, his breath ragged as he glared down his body at her. "Come now, Dukat," she purred as best she could, considering she was very excited herself. "You know what I want." "Yes... me." "Give me the access code and I'll continue." Dukat groaned. "You are so predictable! I know what you'll do -- if I give you the code, you'll just leave me here." "Maybe," she admitted, "but if you don't give me the access code, I'll definitely leave you here!" "Oh, Nerys, do we really have to go through all this?" he moaned. "I want you so much." "Good. I'm very flattered. Give me the access code and you can have me." That was certainly direct enough. "I'll give you half the access code for that and half for untying me." He seemed to be recovering his usual aplomb, and Kira could see his enthusiasm for the whole endeavour had waned during their conversation. It wasn't going to work if she couldn't keep him interested. Besides, having come this far, she didn't want to give up now. "All right," she said. "but you give me half now." He sighed. "Fine. Sebale Tanagra Shiva." she wondered. "Sebale Tanagra Shiva," she repeated out loud. "Now... If you would be so kind, Major..?" The mere though that she might resume her activities had apparently rekindled Dukat's interest; Kira couldn't suppress a wicked smile as she leaned down to kiss him again. She knew he was enjoying this -- so far, she had never met a man of any species who did not -- but after a few minutes, she found she was uncomfortable leaning down on all fours. Besides, in spite of his pheromones, the sickly taste in her mouth was having an adverse effect on her own arousal. However, in spite of this, Kira still wanted him. This was her opportunity to take advantage of him, to act on that fantasy she had had earlier. Lifting herself up, she crawled up his body and lay on his chest, unable to resist the temptation to press her wet lips against his. Dukat responded enthusiastically to the kiss; the taste was probably not as unfamiliar and unpleasant to him as it was to her. "Why don't you come up here?" he said with a sly smile and a nod of the head. For a man who was shackled, he seemed remarkably at ease, but Kira felt her heartbeat increase at his invitation. Moving up his body until her hips were level with his face, she braced herself against the bulkhead. Looking down, all she could see was the top of Dukat's head, from his drop-shaped meshavar down to his straight-ridged nose. But she could imagine his pink tongue sliding out of his grey lips to caress her... Oh this was very good, very good indeed. Maybe she should have done this years ago. Chapter 4 --------- She tasted so good it made Dukat's head spin. How many years had it been since he had been this close to a Bajoran woman? Far too many. This was a task he knew he had always excelled at, a caress that had always -- or mostly -- convinced his lovers to overlook whatever injustices he might have committed to bring them to his bed, and made them content to stay there with him. He had always hoped he could do this to Kira Nerys, to make her realise how wrong she had been to fight him all these years. And now, at last he had her at his mercy. In spite of his present occupation, Dukat smiled as he realised what he had just thought. It was incongruous to think Kira was at his mercy when he was the one tied up beneath her. But he was in no doubt that Kira's senses were entirely concentrated on every flick of his tongue; despite his predicament, he felt he was the one in control. The feeling was exhilarating and profoundly exciting; it just went to show that no matter what Kira could do to him, he was still able to counter her and keep the upper hand. His excitement was further reinforced as Kira let out a series of sharp groans -- one of the most erotic sounds in the universe as far as he was concerned. After a moment, perhaps the time it took her to recover, Kira pulled away from his face and sat on his chest; Dukat was able to admire the dazed expression on her face. Their eyes met and she smiled ruefully, as if grudgingly admitting how much she had enjoyed his ministrations. Had Dukat's arms been free, he would have pushed her hips down to his own and then pulled himself up to kiss her. As it was, all he could do was hope she would move further down of her own accord. Unless, of course, he could convince her to untie him. He was about to ask her to do something to that effect when Kira, her dark unaligned eyes still fixed on his, did slide down his body, brushing herself against his ventral ridge as her hips approached his. Dukat lay perfectly still as he watched her move, as if any gesture on his part might break the spell and make her stop. This was better than anything he had imagined; in too many of his recent fantasies, Kira had been cruel and mocking, just as she had been in reality less than an hour earlier. But now, she was seducing him with an earnest expression of desire on her face; she no longer wanted to humiliate him, she just wanted to make love to him. He only hoped she would work out how to achieve this goal without him having to explain the practicalities of Cardassian-Bajoran sex -- because of the nature of their respective bodies, such relations could be a little... slippery. Dukat couldn't suppress a hum of enjoyment as Kira held him while she tried to manoeuvre herself into a better position. The intent expression on her pretty features made him smile; it brought back one or two pleasant memories of better times. It also brought back some more embarrassing memories of times when the excess lubrication just got in the way. Fortunately, Kira had things sorted out before they reached the embarrassing stage and it took only a few thrusts of her hips to bring Dukat's mind back from the past and tether it firmly in the present. All that mattered now was the sensation in his groin -- the past, the future, the shuttle, the Federation, nothing else mattered, nothing but the friction of his flesh inside hers. This was the most basic of sensations, that pleasure that every creature of flesh and blood in the universe was designed to crave and seek out, a primordial and uncivilised desire that no amount of "culture" could quite master... Dukat closed his eyes; he could feel the pleasure mounting and was sure it would be overwhelming this time, not a short, unexpected shock of delight like the one he had felt when Kira first touched that area earlier. He could feel the pleasure... he could also feel pain in his arms, tired of being held in the same position for so long. He tried to ignore the ache, but once his attention had been drawn back onto his shackled arms, Dukat found it harder to concentrate on Kira's movements. It wasn't long before he had lost the rhythm completely. "You'll have to untie me," he hissed between clenched teeth. "Hmm?" Kira opened her eyes and stared at him, apparently surprised at the interruption. "I can't do it like this," he explained. "My arms are aching too much; I need to have my hands free." Kira looked at him pensively, her expression doubtful. "I'll give you the rest of the access code," he promised encouragingly. He didn't think it would do too much harm to give her the code. Once he was free, he could always find some way of stopping her from using it. "Will you return to Federation space with me?" she asked. Dukat nodded. "If there's a chance we can do this again, then I'll definitely come," he said with a seductive smile. "The whole code is 'Sebale Tanagra Shiva Norgeson Masadi Son'hare'." "Sebale Tanagra Shiva Norgeson Masadi Son'hare," repeated Kira. She hesitated, and then leaned forward to release his hands. Dukat waited until she had also freed his feet before sitting up and wrapping his arms around her. "There, it's better like this, isn't it?" he murmured as he lowered her down onto her back. It all went very well. Dukat certainly enjoyed himself fully, and Kira didn't seem to have any complaints. In fact, he was certain, judging from her reactions, that she was as pleased with what had happened as he was. But pleasurable as it was, the activity was also exhausting, and they both lay back breathlessly on the mattress once they were finished. The bed reeked of their mingled scents and Dukat breathed in the aroma with a thrill of delight. Nothing could compare to the joy of sleeping with a Bajoran woman. It was all so familiar, and yet so different. Lying in his arms as she was now, Kira was like so many of the lovely women he used to pick out of the crowd on the Promenade -- she was even like Naprem, and, for the first time in his eyes, like Meru. And yet she was unique. They had all been unique, all his lovers, each with her own voice, her own peculiar scent, her own personality. Kira certainly had plenty of the latter. Dukat chuckled gently at his strange thoughts and absently kissed Kira's breast. "What?" queried Kira, obviously wanting to know what he laughing about. "I was just thinking I should do this more often." Dukat would have been content to stay snuggled up to Kira longer. He knew she would soon fall asleep, as Bajoran women were wont to do, and he wanted to watch as the lassitude took over and Kira, who was usually the epitome of energy, gradually fell into the light post-coital slumber. But the call of nature had a habit of interrupting such comfortable scenes. He kissed Kira's cheek and reluctantly got up. "I'll be right back." Kira smiled and watched him walk away, completely naked. She had never thought the day would come when she would be so intimate with Dukat. There were so many reasons why it was wrong, and yet, just then, it felt so right. Their lovemaking had left her warm and content, exhausted by the pleasurable effort. She stretched out comfortably and yawned. This forced trip hadn't turned out so badly after all. Remembering the circumstances of the 'forced trip' made Kira's smile fade. This wasn't right at all. Dukat was still the despicable autocrat he had always been; the man who had killed millions of Bajorans, the man who had taken her mother away from her, the man who had planned to rape her only a couple of hours ago. And yet, in spite of all that, she had wanted to make love to him. There was nothing to regret about the act itself; Kira had always suspected Dukat was a good lover. He had known exactly what she needed right then and there was no way she could pretend, even to herself, that she had not thoroughly enjoyed it. Kira tried to fight the lassitude that had invaded her body. What was it about Bajoran physiology that made her so sleepy whenever she had made love? She wanted to stay awake, so that she could berate Dukat when he returned. She couldn't undo the intimacy they had shared, but she could at least try and restore their previous animosity. Even though Kira had willingly accepted Dukat as a lover, she would not let herself consider him as a friend. In an effort to stay awake, she recited the access code -- Sebale Tanagra Shiva Norgeson Masadi Son'hare. She would never have found that on her own. This thought went some way toward reconciling Kira with what she had done; at least she had had a good reason to seduce Dukat. In a moment, she would go and disable the autopilot, before Dukat returned... after she had had a rest. Kira was asleep when Dukat returned from waste extraction. He sat down on the bed beside her and, as he had been hoping to do earlier, watched her sleep. She was a beautiful sight, her naked body spread out amongst the pillows, her long dark lashes resting on the curves of her cheeks, her breasts rising and falling with the regular rhythm of her breathing. Dukat was touched by how calm and innocent Kira looked at this moment, her features freed, if only for a moment, from the hardness he always saw there, her true vulnerability revealed. He wondered what kind of woman she would have been without that hatred. Perhaps she would have been more peaceful if she hadn't turned to fighting so young, if she had lived a happy life... if she had known the warmth of a mother. Dukat breathed in deeply for a slow sigh, but this time, for the first time, he didn't dismiss the guilt. He knew he had been instrumental in making Kira what she was today. He had accused her of clinging to her hatred, but he knew why she did -- it was the only thing that had kept her sane. Another woman would have been able to abandon that hatred, but Kira was too fragile to deal with her life experiences in any other way. Under her strong facade was a terrified child, battered and bruised by all the horrors she had seen, all the pain she had suffered. Horrors and pain she blamed his people for. In his heart, Dukat could not deny that his people were to blame and he did feel some guilt that he had never been brave enough -- or brash enough -- to try and stop the carnage. But guilt wouldn't undo the past. What mattered was the present. The present was Kira, with all her hatred and her vulnerability, lying on his makeshift bed. Dukat observed the fine lines around her eyes and mouth; time was defeating her just as surely as it eventually vanquished everything in the universe. Now that the elation of lovemaking had long died down, Dukat could see their situation clearly. She didn't love him and he didn't love her -- they had no future together. And what future did they have apart? If Kira got her way, they would return to Federation space, and Dukat would return to prison. That was not an option. All the humans needed was a telepath or a mind probe, and they would know everything about Cardassia and the Dominion. Dukat had in his mind enough knowledge to destroy Cardassia forever; he could not allow that information to fall into the hands of his enemies. But what else could he do? He could stay on the run, of course, hide out on some unaligned planet like Ferenginar or Lysepia, live out his life in exile. Dukat shook his head silently, his eyes still on Kira's milky skin. A life in exile was no life at all, and he had already spent too much time away from home. There was no point denying it; though it jarred with his Cardassian loyalty, he knew the only planet he had ever wanted to live out his life on was Bajor. And there was no hope of that ever happening. Then there was the question of what to do with Kira. But before he could give serious thought to that consideration, he saw her eyelashes flutter and knew she would soon be awake. Kira opened her eyes and, still pleasurably groggy from her brief slumber, smiled when she found Dukat leaning over her. Her smile died when she saw the expression on his face. His face was grave and morose, as if he were contemplating some terrible action, perhaps even a murder. Probably her murder. Her eyes widened in sudden alarm, and she sat up abruptly. She was surprised when Dukat's craggy features broke into a friendly smile. Only partially reassured by his gesture, Kira said, "I guess I must have fallen asleep." "That's all right." "Were you watching me?" "Yes... I was wondering what we should do next." "I thought we had agreed we would return to the Federation." "Ah, yes, we did, didn't we? All in good time." "I need a shower," she said, still wary. "I had one while I was in there. I must admit it can be quite a ...messy activity." Kira was not too sure what to say. "It's worth it, though," she remarked awkwardly. "Definitely," agreed Dukat with a delighted grin. "I'm glad to hear you say that." "I'm sure you are." "You go and have your shower, and then we'll turn the ship back to Federation space." Kira hesitated, unsure whether to believe him. "I promise," he added, his voice and his face serious. "Even a Federation prison would be better than the life I've been leading here on this shuttle. So I'll come back with you, as I said I would." A reassuring smile spread out on Dukat's face. Kira looked around the cramped confines of the shuttle and then back to Dukat's blue eyes fixed on her. She believed him. As Kira was taking her second sonic shower of the day, she thought about what would happen next. She was going to bring Dukat back to Federation space -- that much was simple. But she had made love to him -- to Gul Dukat! -- out of her own free will, in a frenzy of passion she could be sure neither of them would forget. Whether she looked back on the event with regret or pleasure, she knew she would carry that memory to her death. And so would Dukat. How soon would it be before he told someone about them? He would have nothing to lose, after all, whereas her reputation would be irretrievably tarnished. She shuddered involuntarily at the thought of her friends back on Deep Space Nine discovering what she had done. Captain Sisko, who hated Dukat, would probably despise her, and it wasn't hard to imagine her other colleagues would be similarly disappointed. But there was nothing she could do to keep Dukat quiet. If she handed him to Starfleet, he might tell them when they debriefed him, but even if she let him go, he was just as likely to tell the universe all about their tryst. In any case, it was her duty to bring Dukat back as a prisoner, and she would not let inconsequential personal matters interfere. Armed with this resolution, she came out of the cleaning room, wrapped only in a towel. Dukat was now dressed in a replicated suit. He was sitting in the command chair at the front of the shuttle, facing the cleaning room, with a phaser pointed at Kira. "What are you doing, Dukat?" she demanded, staring at him in surprise. "Oh, come now, Major, you know I can't let you take me back to the Federation." "You said you would come back with me and turn yourself in." "I lied," he said simply, shrugging his shoulders. "So you're going to kill me?" "If I have to." There was a moment's silence, and then Dukat spoke again. "I don't want to. What happened between us does mean something to me. You could join me now. The offer I made you two years ago still stands -- we could live together, and fight together. Just you and me, no politics, no worrying about the past, about anything but us." Kira gaped at him, her face clearly denoting horror. She shook her head. "It wouldn't work, Dukat. It didn't work then and it won't work now. You now it wouldn't." "I suppose I do," he admitted with a sigh. "I'm sure we'd have fun for a while. But ultimately, we're too alike to get along." Kira nodded, her expression relaxing slightly. "So what are you going to do? I thought we had agreed you would be better off with the Federation." "How could you possibly believe for one moment that I would be happier in a prison cell than roaming free?" Dukat grinned humourlessly. "You know I can't turn myself in to Starfleet. If they interrogated me, I might reveal secrets which could destroy Cardassia. I can't let that happen." "The Federation doesn't want to destroy Cardassia!" "Perhaps not, but can you say as much of their allies? What do you think the Klingons would do if they reached Prime? I can't run that risk." "I see. I should have known better than to trust you." "Yes. In fact, that applies to both of us. I seem to recall overestimating your trustworthiness myself, a little earlier today." Kira was silent. Her near nakedness, which only a moment earlier had seemed natural, was now an embarrassment, contrasted with Dukat's fully clothed form. She was also aware of the phaser trained on her. This was not what she had expected, but then she now realised that her expectations had been unrealistic. Of course Dukat didn't want to be in prison; she should have realised that immediately. However, her priority now was to bring him back to Starfleet, regardless of his desires. It was her duty to the Federation and to her people. "It was fun, though, wasn't it," said Dukat regretfully. "Yes it was." Dukat looked up at her and smiled. She was quite stunning, standing wrapped in her towel in the command room of the shuttle, an expression of uncertainty on her face. But then, all of a sudden, everything changed. Things went very quickly. Before Dukat realised what she was doing, Kira had dashed forward. He had time to see the towel fall, to see her bare body lunge towards him as she tried to seize the phaser. The image of her curves, so beautifully displayed in the total nakedness of her white skin, etched itself into Dukat's mind. He fired. Time, which had gone by so fast just a second before, seemed suddenly to slow down to a crawl. As if in slow motion, Kira's rosy lips parted in surprise and she fixed her uncomprehending black eyes on Dukat's face. Perhaps she tried to say something, but no words came from her throat, nothing but a gurgle of scarlet blood. Her legs gave way beneath her and she fell heavily in Dukat's lap, before the artificial gravity of the shuttle pulled her body to the ground. "NO!" The helpless cry seemed to echo in the command room as Dukat sank to his knees beside Kira's lifeless body. He hadn't meant for this to happen. All he had wanted was to stop her from getting command of the shuttle. He would have dropped her off at some planet and let her make her own way home while he continued his journey to nowhere. This wasn't what he had planned. He had never fully realised just how delicate she really was. It had struck him when he watched her sleep earlier, but it was even more evident now. Kira looked so small, crumpled on the floor like a discarded doll, her smooth white skin marred only by the obscene phaser burn under her right breast. The shot must have punctured her lungs and burned through her heart within a few seconds. Alive, Kira had always been a fighter, with enough strength and determination for a whole battalion of Klingons. But that she was dead, Dukat could plainly see the fragile little body that had housed that seemingly indomitable spirit. Cradling her in his arms, he realised she was even lighter than Ziyal had been. Ziyal. His precious daughter, the only legacy of his time on Bajor, had died in his arms like this. No, not like this, not by his hand. Meru. He had held her lifeless form, too, in that sad hospital so many years ago. And now he had murdered her daughter. Destiny was never fair to him. Naprem. He had not seen her. He had been spared the sight of the love of his life lying dead in the sand. Love of his life -- it sounded so trite, and yet what else could he say? No, he had not seen her beloved eyes stare lifeless at him; all fate had given him were a pile of dry bones in the Dozarian sand. But he had killed her, too. They had all loved him and they were all dead. He had killed them. And now Kira Nerys lay in his arms, a naked corpse half sprawled on the cold floor of a stolen Federation shuttle, a lifeless body only recently released from the warm embrace of his desire. He had not loved her -- all they had shared were a few moments of passion for years of confrontation. She had not loved him, but he had killed her too. Naprem had once quoted an old Bajoran poem to him, and the last verse came into his mind now, as he reached for his fallen phaser and rocked Kira back and forth. "There are as many ways to kill a man As there are stars in the universe But there is only one way of giving life I have given life I have given death I can give no more" = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =