Forwarded by the ASC-VSO 
Posted: 24 Jan 2004 04:28:53 GMT  
In: alt.startrek.creative 
From: sisko2374@aol.com (Sisko2374) 
 

REP DS9 "Weapons of Mass Deduction" Garak [PG]
by Sisko2374@aol.com
Summary: Just before the episode ‘‘Way of the Warrior', Garak receives an
"And I think you'll  be pleased to find that Argellian wool never irritates
sensitive skin even while being completely water proof."

Garak smiled and handed Leeta her purchase. A high pitched beeping came from
the back of the store.

:"What's that noise?" Leeta attempted to peer around Garak to the back of the
shop.

"Oh that. Nothing at all my dear. Just a reminder that Captain Sisko's uniforms
are finished. Would you be so kind as to let him know that he can pick them up
in an hour? That is, if you happen to be passing by ops?"

"Oh, sure."

"Well then, off you go." Garak escorted his customer  toward the door. "I'm
sure you will be completely satisfied.  Do come again."

"I'm sure I will. Bye," Leeta burbled as she exited onto the promenade.

Garak locked the shop and walked to the back to check the communicator. Yes, a
triple en-coded call from Cardassia. He entered his most recent encryption code
and the view screen sprang to life. A middle aged Cardassian in full body
armor, obviously in his cups, appeared on the wall.

"Gul Labul! What a surprise. Why you haven't changed a bit. Still the same fine
figure of a man that you were when we served together all those years ago on
Bajor. And to what, may I ask, do I owe the honor of this call? Did all of your
wives and mistresses simultaneously abandon you again?  Are we feeling a bit
lonely perhaps?" 

The face in the view screen sneered and snorted. "You certainly haven't changed
Garak. Same insolence as ever. That's why I love you."

Garak tilted his nose up and slightly to the right, eyeing Labul carefully.

"Enough to sponsor three attempts on my life? I think I could very well do with
out that sort of affection."

Labul waved a hand dismissively in the air.

"Oh come on Garak, you know that wasn't me. Those were Dukat's hirelings. I
bear no grudge. What passed between us is long forgotten..."

"And so it should be," Garak hastened to cut in. "But what is the purpose of
your sub-space visitation today my dear friend? However may I serve you?"

Labul leaned forward. "I need information. Accurate information Garak. We're
about to go to war and I don't want Cardassia to be caught with its pants
down."

Garak's allowed his eyes to widen ever so slightly. "Your patriotism is of
course renowned and surpassed by none. And as a tailor I fully sympathize with
the desire to keep one's trousers on in a fight, individually or collectively.
But after all, I am merely a simple tailor."

"Come on Garak! I don't have time for your games! This is a serious matter. I
need your help."

Garak clasped his hands. "What I meant was, that as a tailor on this station I
so seldom get news from home. You will have to first fully inform me on all of
the circumstances and personages involved in this latest attempt to keep poor
Cardassia's trousers up once more. Then perhaps we can do business and in the
process make amends for old times."

Labul swivelled in his chair. "Your tone is disrespectful Garak. You sound more
like one of those damned dissidents than a Cardassian patriot. I'm not sure I
like that. Where's your heart? Your loyalty to the state?"

Garak smiled. "My heart is firmly implanted in my rib cage and my loyalty is
where the state last left it, when I was exiled here. That of course is
entirely different than my feelings about Cardassia."

Labul snorted. "You have become a dissident. And probably a traitor as well. I
shouldn't even be talking to the likes of you...."

"But then you'd never find out what you need to know, would you?."

Garak found the next thirty minutes with Labul highly enjoyable. They were soon
on a first name basis once more, just as in the old days, as if the intervening
years of personal  and political landslides had never sundered their old
acquaintance. Elim found Feron's much needed  update on the gossip, rumors and
conspiracies within the Obsidian order both fascinating and highly improbable.
But then Garak was highly skilled at reading between the lies. He had all he
needed to know. For his part, Garak was careful to implant the falsehoods that
he fed Feron with just the proper amount of truth so as to seem almost
believable. Believable enough to keep Feron puzzling over as to what Garak
actually knew and yet reasonable enough to push Labul towards a course of
action that he was already inclined to take. 



"So, Feron, it would seem that our old friend Gul Bucet is at the center of
this new farce." Garak nodded, as if recalling a locale he knew well. "You
know, Feron, when it comes to powers of reasoning, I always thought that if we
Cardassians were all edged weapons, there would be no better hammer than Gul
Bucet."

Feron snorted in amusement, then shook his head.  "How does such a
‘‘hammer'
manage to convince otherwise reasonable people of such enormous lies?"

"The bigger the lie, the more believable it is." 

"Who said that?"

"Oh some ancient Earth leader. I believe his name was Hiter or Hiler. Something
like that. The good Doctor Bashir imparted that bon mot to me over lunch one
day. A marvelous insight really. I had no idea humans were so practiced in the
art of falsehood."

Feron raised his eyes in mild surprise. "Indeed. Most laudable. But now, my
dear Elim, I must bid farewell. Given all that you have told me on the war
preparedness of the Maquis,  Bajorans and the Federation, I can now move
against Bucet before he plunges Cardassia into almost certain defeat."

Garak nodded. "Good luck dear Feron. And do remember, the only weapon our
‘‘Hammer' is adept at is the big lie, not the subtle, little one."

Labul smiled. "Farewell, Elim."

Garak placed his hand over his heart, "My old friend." The communicator went
blank.

Garak smiled slightly in satisfaction.  His ploy was working. It was obvious
from Feron's demeanor and final words that the Gul  had no intention of
thwarting Bucet's war plans. Rather, he was going to run to Bucet and confirm
Bucet's plan to carry out a coup d'etat on Cardassia and then immediately
launch a new pre-emptive war against the Maquis, Bajor and the Federation
itself. It was equally clear that, despite Garak's reassurances to the
contrary, Labul really believed the big lie that Bucet was spreading to justify
this new war: that the Maquis, in alliance with a Bajoran fundamentalist sect
had developed new ferocious bio-genic weapons with which they intended to wipe
out Cardassian colonies and perhaps even Cardassia itself. 

It was absurd! The Maquis were secular, like the Federation itself, and brooked
no trade with Bajoran fundamentalists who were as apt to be as hostile to
humans as Cardassians. But, it was after all a big lie and likely to be
believed by people like LaBul. Especially if they were so inclined to believe
it.

On the other hand, if all that he heard these days from Cardassia had even a
grain of truth to it; the spread of the dissident movement, the growing
dissatisfaction of the populace with food supplies and a general unwillingness
to face the sacrifices of a new war then...
Then perhaps when Bucet and Labul attempted to launch their new coup d'etat
they would be met with a counter "coup" of the Cardassian people themselves and
the whole dictatorship and the Obsidian order itself would come tumbling down. 

Garak smiled wistfully.  Nudging Feron toward his doom was the least that he
owed him. After the revolution, perhaps he, Garak, would be able to go home
once more, after the people had rounded up his old enemies. It all depended on
just one thing. Whether the Cardassian people would be able to use their most
effective weapon: their own mental  powers of mass deduction to figure out the
truth and see through the big lies.

Garak sighed. The truth was such a boorish thing. Governments stayed in power
and waged wars with lies. All governments. It had always been that way and
always would. How could a people whose entire culture was based on lies not see
that? He  parted the curtains and re-entered the public part of his shop. Oh
my! Only fifteen minutes to have Captain Sisko's uniforms ready.

THE END

--
Stephen Ratliff
ASC Stories Only Forwarding

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