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From: "Keith & Jessica Bratcher" <campbratcher@psci.net>
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Date: Sun, 9 May 2004 22:54:36 -0500
Subject: [ASCEM-S] NEW DS9 "Nineteen Shades" 12/12 (G/B) [NC-17]
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Please see part 1 for codes, disclaimers, and notes.

-------------------------------------------
Nineteen Shades, by Penumbra (part 12/12)
-------------------------------------------


E p i l o g u e
- - - - - - - - 

Garak had propped up one elbow on the table and was leaning into that
hand, two fingers on his cheek and his thumb under the thin ridge
decorating his chin. His gleaming black hair was pulled back in a rare
ponytail, making his already severe, bony Cardassian appearance even
more intense if possible. Making lazy travels along unknown paths,
Garak's gaze was on the chessboard and O'Brien could almost hear the
well-oiled tactician's gears of his mind turning as he pondered his
next move. 

Quark's was unusually quiet that night but that hadn't surprised the
chief. Rumours of a Dominion fleet massing on the other side of the
wormhole had everyone nervous and brooding, him included. However, the
slightly oppressive atmosphere seemed to have no effect on the man
sitting from across the chessboard -- or even if it did, O'Brien had
long ago resigned to the fact that he'd never learn to read Garak well
enough to know anything for certain. 

"What an interesting game this is," Garak mused aloud, his eyes still
on the board. "The simplification of a structured, feudal society with
large numbers of warriors -- save for the matriarchal power structure,
one could be led to think this was a Klingon game, not a Human one."

"Matriarchal?" O'Brien asked, watching as Garak completed his kingside
castle. With some deflation of his spirit, he realised the Cardassian
sitting across from him had done some studying after their Kotra
game. "You mean the relative strength of the queen?"

"Yes. Combine that with the vulnerability of the ruler," Garak said,
gesturing airily at his white king, "versus his importance, and it
paints an interesting picture of Human societies. Figureheads with
female bodyguards, surrounded by warriors and clergy. Fascinating."

Paying only partial attention to Garak's ponderings, O'Brien inhaled
through his teeth. Garak's Vienna opening had distracted him and his
Philidor's Defence was only half-developed. His hand hovering over a
pawn for a moment, he decided on the king bishop instead, only to have
Garak swoop in to take the bishop and a pawn before he could counter
the moves without losing the centre. 

"You're not really playing chess with any sort of logic I can deduce."

Garak met his eyes and smiled in a way that did nothing to thaw the
perceptive, cool blue ice of his eyes. "I'm playing chess like a
Cardassian would," he replied, his voice like honey and razor blades. 

That smile, more a demure twist of his full lips than anything else,
made O'Brien recall Dax's description of Garak as a charming
rogue. Looking at his calm, collected visage, O'Brien could certainly
see why she'd deemed him a rogue, but the charming part completely
eluded him. 

Squinting as he tried to see Garak as Julian saw him, O'Brien took in
the sharp, primal aspects of his eminently Cardassian features and the
broad, strong build of his torso. Maybe Julian liked the implied power
of his physique? But that would be just too simple to be the entire
truth about his complex if flighty friend. He watched Garak toy with a
captured black pawn in one hand while the two first fingers of the
other traced his eyeridge, both gestures surprisingly delicate and
gentle for a Cardassian. Was it the hands, maybe? Over a bottle of
decent scotch, Julian had once confessed to having a thing for skilled
hands and Garak's were certainly--

"You're staring again, Mr. O'Brien," Garak said, his eyes on the board
and his tone amused.

Jerking his attention back on the board, O'Brien tried to will down
the flush of embarrassment colouring his cheeks. "I'm sorry," he
muttered although he was also glad of the interruption. It was not
like he wanted to dwell on what Garak's hands -- or, for that matter,
any other parts of him -- did to Julian to produce that glow of
contentment with which he'd been walking around all week. "I didn't
mean to."

"Of course you didn't," Garak intoned softly, a curious smile coming
to shape his lips.

Attacking the e4 pawn, O'Brien met Garak's smile with his own rather
uneasy one. He'd come to know that particular tone of Garak's well
over their game of Kotra: the sharp sibilants coupled with that small,
sly smile meant Garak was pleased to have caught an opponent revealing
his hand. 

To stop the white queen from checking, O'Brien moved his knight to the
centre while keeping an uneasy eye over Garak's kingside and cleared
his throat. "So how does a Cardassian play chess?" he asked, returning
to their previous topic.

"Mmm, now there's an interesting question," Garak murmured, holding
his kanaar glass with delicate fingers as he sipped the viscous, dark
liquid. "Chief, tell me something. Before you became an engineer, you
were a soldier, yes?" He fianchettoed on the queenside and to O'Brien,
his move was as unexpected as his change of conversational topics.

"We've established that, I believe." He frowned and tried to see if
there was a trap Garak had laid for him when he'd left his rook so
unprotected. 

"Yes. So in light of your choice of games for us today, can I assume
as a soldier you fought much as you play this game: within the given
rules and as efficiently as possible?"

Falling silent for a moment, O'Brien took the rook and frowned when
Garak ate three of his pawns -- a reasonable exchange, given that he
could check in one move. Whatever tactic Garak employed, it had long
ago stopped making sense to O'Brien.

"In games, rules count and an efficient war is a quick one. Check."

"Hm. So it is," Garak said. It was unclear with which statement he was
agreeing. 

Seemingly unconcerned, Garak dodged his check and proceeded to trade
his bishops for O'Brien's remaining knight and one rook while putting
oblique pressure to push his king to the rim. Resisting, O'Brien
forked.

"You were saying?" he prompted when Garak seemed to have gotten lost
in his game and kanaar. "You don't agree with my assessment about
quick wars?"

"Mr. O'Brien, in my considerable experience, there is no such thing as
an efficient army unless it's comprised of unfeeling automatons," he
replied at length, drumming his fingers against the table before
taking the black queen in a move O'Brien considered downright
reckless. "I'm sure you agree that we are neither unfeeling nor
automatons."

"Sure," O'Brien nodded and downed the rest of his raktajino. "What're
you saying?"

"I'm trying to say that the efficiency of an army, and by extension
any war it wages, is irrelevant. The only thing that matters is the
effectiveness of that army. That's why the Cardassians could occupy
Bajor and why the Dominion is such a frightening enemy -- they, like
we, care only about the war, not the battles."

O'Brien eyed the board and a genuine smile came onto his face. "Well,
this is one battle the Cardassian smarts have lost," he said, nudging
his remaining rook into d6. "Checkmate."

"So it is," Garak said and to the chief's consternation, he seemed not
at all surprised at the result. Knocking the white king over with one
flick of his finger, he leaned back. "And the end result of our game
was what, in your opinion?"

Confused again, O'Brien frowned. "The result? I won."

"Ah, you won the battle," Garak said, gesturing at the board with
condescension that would've been infuriating had it not been quite so
graceful and subdued. "You protected your assets, made careful
sacrifices only when you needed to, and guarded your king with all
that you had."

"That's sort of the point of chess, isn't it?"

As if he hadn't heard O'Brien, Garak continued, obviously warming to
his topic. "And yet, what do you have to show for it? Yes, your king
survived but all you have left of your kingdom are the clergy and a
few pathetic war-weary pawns," Garak mused and cocked an eyeridge at
him. "Meanwhile, I have sacrificed a king to the benefit of a more
powerful ruler," he said, touching the white queen, "that still has an
army and strong defences to protect her. The glory of the state
demands smart sacrifices, not efficiency."

Realisation dawned on O'Brien as he looked at the board through
Garak's eyes. "Garak, you son of a gun," he said and laughed, unable
to help his admiration at the man's devious insanity. "You let me win,
didn't you? You let me win just to make a point, and I didn't even
notice."

Garak rose and smoothed down the front of his tunic with one broad,
grey hand as he smiled down at the chuckling chief. "Next time, I
promise I'll play the battle," he said with a nod. "Now, however, I
must excuse myself. I'm dining with Julian and for that, I need to
change into something rather more festive."

O'Brien nodded, still smiling. "Same time next week, Mr. Garak?"

"Until then, Mr. O'Brien," Garak intoned and bowed with a flourish
before exiting towards the Promenade. The chief chuckled and shook his
head as he watched Garak disappear into the late evening crowd milling
about the central corridor. 

O'Brien sat there for a while, finishing off another mug of raktajino
before his combadge chirped to let him know it was time to start his
shift. Arranging the chess pieces into their box, he folded the board
on top of them before rising from the table and finding himself to be
grinning like an idiot. Never mind the Dominion and the war, he mused
-- he'd found something to smile over.

"Nineteen shades of treachery, that man is," O'Brien muttered to
no-one particular and paused, adjusting the chess box under his arm as
he thought. "Bloody hell. I think I'm starting to like him."


~~  T h e  E n d  ~~

-------------------------------
End of part 12/12 (epilogue).



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