Received: from [66.218.67.194] by n22.grp.scd.yahoo.com with NNFMP; 06 Jun 2004 00:23:13 -0000 X-Sender: campbratcher@psci.net X-Apparently-To: ASCEM-S@yahoogroups.com Received: (qmail 97247 invoked from network); 6 Jun 2004 00:23:12 -0000 Received: from unknown (66.218.66.172) by m12.grp.scd.yahoo.com with QMQP; 6 Jun 2004 00:23:12 -0000 Received: from unknown (HELO mailstore.psci.net) (63.65.184.2) by mta4.grp.scd.yahoo.com with SMTP; 6 Jun 2004 00:23:11 -0000 Received: from max (as4-d59-rp-psci.psci.net [63.92.109.155]) by mailstore.psci.net (8.12.2/8.12.2) with SMTP id i560MtQX023383 for ; Sat, 5 Jun 2004 19:22:56 -0500 Message-ID: <011a01c44b5c$7e6f14e0$9b6d5c3f@max> To: "ASCEM-S" X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Mailer: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1158 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1165 X-eGroups-Remote-IP: 63.65.184.2 From: "Keith & Jessica Bratcher" X-Yahoo-Profile: sileya MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCEM-S@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCEM-S-owner@yahoogroups.com Delivered-To: mailing list ASCEM-S@yahoogroups.com Precedence: bulk List-Unsubscribe: Date: Sat, 5 Jun 2004 19:23:29 -0500 Subject: [ASCEM-S] NEW VOY/DS9 Cardinal Attractors 3/8 (J/G) [NC-17] Reply-To: "Keith & Jessica Bratcher" Content-Type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-ELNK-AV: 0 Please see part 1 for codes, disclaimer, and warnings. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Cardinal Attractors, part 3/8 by Penumbra (c) 2004 ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Hours later, the party was still in full swing. The late hour was evident only in the tired stances of the security men and in the ever-louder din of conversation that drowned even the orchestra. The couples manning the dancefloor were swaying with liquor-fuelled lack of inhibition and as Janeway found her various colleagues from the Admiralty in the crowd, she could easily spot the ones that would be nursing the most serious hangovers come the next morning. Turning to her companion, Janeway leaned in and lowered her voice. "Now here's a combination that boggles the mind," she said, pointing into the crowd. Their chosen vantage point by the wall and in the shadow of a pillar was perfect for people watching, which was what they'd settled on as a way to pass time. "Ah, quite so, Kathryn," Jean-Luc Picard commented at a low voice when Admiral Gupta swayed past them. He was flanked by an equally drunken Klingon and a young woman from Ambassador Kshhrrh's entourage. "Imbibition, the universal equaliser." "Not to mention the blind matchmaker," Janeway added with a low chuckle. "Which reminds me," Picard said with a humoured smile, "I trust you're coming to the Halloween ball?" "Of course," Janeway assured and touched his sleeve for emphasis. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. But, Jean-Luc -- no offence, but what in the world prompted you to throw a party in the first place?" "Despite my somewhat staid reputation," Picard pronounced solemnly but with an impish glint in his eyes, "I do sometimes let loose. This shall be one of those occasions -- for people to unwind, socialise, and put forth the goodwill that the Federation is known for." Janeway eyed her long-time friend with suspicion. "You made a bet with Riker, didn't you?" Picard sighed. "Am I really that obvious?" "Yes, my friend, you are." "*Merde*," he enunciated with heartfelt emphasis. Straightening, he glanced around. "Well, I must be off soon." "Trying to slip out of here before Ambassador Troi finds you?" Picard saluted her with his glass of champagne. "That would be the general idea, Kathryn. Have a pleasant evening, and I look forward to seeing you in two weeks." "Good night, Jean-Luc," Janeway replied softly and watched as Picard disappeared into the crowd. She stood silent for a moment, swirling her flat, warm champagne around in the glass. She didn't mind the sorry state of the expensive alcohol because, truth be told, she felt she shouldn't have any more to drink; the effects of various toasts were already quite pronounced. Deciding to clear her head for a moment, Janeway set her glass on the tray of a passing waiter and slipped towards the French windows lining the ballroom. Thankfully, she wasn't intercepted and was able to slip into the surprisingly balmy night with minimal fuss. "Mmm, much better," she muttered to herself as she leaned against a tree in the garden. Closing her eyes against the moonlight, she felt her head spin. "No more champagne for you, Katie." She stood there, leaning against the tree, for several deep breaths before opening her eyes and looked around. In the pale moonlight, the garden was quite beautiful. The old oaks and elms were still in full autumn leaf and surrounded by artistic if artificial rock formations and small ponds gleaming like lakes of quicksilver in the velvet night. Starting on one of the circuitous pathways of the garden, Janeway breathed in the cooling air that held the last taste of their Indian summer and the vague scent of salt rising from the neighbouring San Francisco Bay. For long, blissfully quiet moments, she thought she was alone in the garden until she rounded a boulder and heard whispering voices. Pausing, uncertain of what to do, Janeway went off the path and into the shadow of an ancient elm and peeked around it to see who had also felt like a midnight stroll. What she saw made her breath catch. On a garden bench facing one of the ponds sat a shadowed figure, clad in all black and holding a glass of champagne in his hand. His hair was a deep, oily slick that gleamed silver in the low light; his face shone almost bone white wherever the moon touched it and the shadows deep where it couldn't reach. Ambassador Garak's figure was unmistakable, as was his companion's: it was the young man that had arrived with him and was now kneeling on the ground between the ambassador's legs. Their heads were bowed close together and the quiet whispers of their conversation were almost inaudible to Janeway as she strained to hear them. As she watched, the young human looked up at Garak and smiled, saying something so softly all Janeway could hear was the loving tone of his voice. The ambassador replied with a murmur and leaned back, sipping at his champagne as he looked down at the young man. Since their forms were mere silhouettes in the dusky night, Janeway couldn't quite see what had produced the look of concentration on Garak's face, but she understood the moment she heard the sound of a zipper being undone. "Oh dear god," Janeway whispered, her eyes widening. Unblinking, she watched as the young human leaned forward, his face hidden by the ample folds of Garak's frock coat. However, what he was doing was unmistakable from both the look of wordless bliss that smoothed Garak's features and the shifting shadows between his legs where his hand went, resting on his companion's head. At the back of her mind, Janeway thought how bad it would be if she -- a Starfleet admiral of good moral standing and reputation -- was found playing a Peeping Tom in her own party, but she squelched the voice of warning. What she was seeing was as illicit as it was erotic and she found the spectacle intensely arousing precisely because it was voyeuristic -- a teasing taboo, even when the reality of it was more suggestive than graphic. She still couldn't understand their quiet words, but the rough, thick edge of Garak's voice was clearly audible, as were the wet sounds that punctuated his heavy exhalations. As Janeway watched, the ambassador shifted in his seat and tossed the champagne glass into the pond, both of his hands now coming to cradle the head at his crotch. She could see the shivers that traversed Garak's body and the tension coiling in his back; she found herself mirroring his tension and rapid, explosive breaths as if she was part of the erotic tableau, too. The human apparently took his time despite the increasing urgency in the words Garak whispered to him, because Janeway was starting to feel light-headed from near hyperventilation. She consciously held her breath, counting the long seconds as the frissons in Garak's body became more pronounced. Finally, he tensed like a bow pulled taut and threw back his head, his mouth opening in a silent scream as he came. The look of concentrated pleasure on his face was finally what jolted Janeway back to her senses. Her heart in her throat, she gathered her wits and doubled back to where she'd come from. She sneaked back into the grand hall in a state of haze, not quite knowing whether she should pinch herself or drink more champagne. "Lots more champagne," Janeway muttered to herself, somewhat breathless. "Maybe then, the next time you meet the ambassador you can look him in the eye, Katie." * * * * * It turned out to be almost two weeks until Janeway saw the Cardassian ambassador again, and it happened quite unexpectedly. It was a rainy Thursday morning, as Thursday mornings tended to be in the Bay Area during October, weather control systems notwithstanding. As she materialised in the foyer of the Admiralty building, Janeway sighed with a modicum of dismay; it had been a cold day of clear skies in Indiana, yet in San Francisco the indoors were darkened by the clouds colouring the sky to a grey that reminded her of wet clay. "Good morning, admiral," the security lieutenant manning the beam-in site greeted her. "And what a lovely morning it is." Janeway glanced up at the skylights. "Mmm. If it keeps it'll be perfect for Halloween, though." "I wouldn't know, ma'am," the Bolian lieutenant said and glanced at his screen. "You're good to go. Have a nice day, ma'am." "You, too," Janeway said and returned the lieutenant's salute with an absent nod. Draining her commuter coffee mug, she stepped into the turbolift. "Eighteenth floor, section alpha-two." Her second unpleasant surprise for the day was waiting for Janeway when she stepped into the anteroom of her office, only to be greeted with the sight of two Cardassian military cuirasses with insignia denoting them to be glinns. "Eugene?" Janeway asked, stepping around the Cardassians towering above her. "I didn't know I had a morning appointment." Her assistant rushed to her side, taking away her empty coffee cup and overcoat with an apologetic air about him. "My apologies, admiral," the young ensign said. His gaze darted from the two glinns to a third one standing by his desk and then back to Janeway. "They don't actually have an appointment, but..." he trailed away, nodding helplessly towards the small group of waiting chairs by the windows. "I insisted," Ambassador Garak finished for Ensign McNamara and stood up from where he'd been sitting in one of the chairs. "Good morning, admiral." "Ambassador Garak," Janeway said warmly and glanced back at her assistant before focusing on Garak again. "I had a feeling you'd be the kind of man who doesn't take no for an answer. I hope you didn't have to wait long?" "Not at all," Garak said and smiled. His eyes shifted to McNamara for a moment, and his look of speculation almost made Janeway laugh. "Your young man here was a most enjoyable conversationalist." "I offered them coffee or tea but they didn't want any," McNamara added, quite unneeded. "And the replicator was unfamiliar with Rokassa juice." Janeway tsked. "I'll need to have that rectified," she said and eyed Garak. The amusement twinkling in his eyes was almost contagious. "Yes, I don't suppose you would enjoy Earth beverages." "You'd be surprised at what I enjoy, admiral." At Garak's words, Janeway's breath caught in surprise. She scrutinised the ambassador with greater curiosity, watching him watch her expectantly. Standing there in her anteroom, dressed in well-chosen if neutral shades of grey and royal blue, Garak hardly resembled the daring sensualist he'd been at the anniversary ball. Yet, there were traces of that persona even in this daytime facade of his -- in the voluptuary, lissome essence of his gestures and in the subtext of his words. In Janeway, the slow, seductive cadence of his voice triggered memories of the night of the party. She vividly recalled the clean autumnal smell of the air, the cool glow of the moonlight, and the shadowplay she'd witnessed in the garden; her memory of the look of numinous ecstasy on Garak's face made her insides constrict in a sudden thrill of unexplicable arousal. Janeway plastered a smile on her face to cover for her momentary discomfiture and willed down her excitement. Her smile turned to a grin when she caught the look of perplexity on McNamara's face. "Somehow, I don't doubt you, Mr. Garak," she said warmly. Garak's return smile was no less warm, if not quite as genuine as Janeway would've liked. "As pleasant as I find small talk, I do have official business I wished to discuss with you." "Of course. Please, Excellency, come in," she said and gestured towards her office, intensely curious. As they entered, Janeway was peripherally aware of Garak's entourage assuming positions of general looming in McNamara's vicinity before the door swished closed behind them. "What can I do for the New Cardassian Republic on this lovely day?" "You're familiar with the experimental propulsion research conducted at the Daystrom Institute Annex on Galor IV?" If there had been something Janeway had expected Garak to address, that had not been it. "Pardon me?" she said, even as her eyes went to the picture of Seven, standing on her bookshelf between an Admiralty plaque and a Talaxian statue. Garak, having obviously followed her gaze, smiled. "Ah. Of course you are," he said, and the significance of his words was not lost on Janeway. "As much as you're aware of the dark underbelly of the Federation, namely an operation with the depressingly unimaginative name of Section 31." "Propulsion research is generally classified, Mr. Garak," she retorted, even as she wondered why Garak knew so much about her and of Seven. "As for this Section 31, I don't know what you're talking about." "There are secrets, and then there are public secrets. The definition of the latter greatly depends on the public in question -- in this case, me. You'll find me a most discerning public, Kathryn," Garak said and produced a padd from within his tunic. "I make it a point to keep in touch with some former colleagues of mine and they've come across information you and Admiral Nechayev will undoubtedly find interesting." Frowning, Janeway took the offered padd and flicked it on. Wandering closer to the window she glanced through the data on it and with every new bit of information, her blood grew colder. After a long, quiet moment of reading she lifted her eyes from it and focused on the murky San Francisco skyline beyond the window. Her mood was as cheery as the lead grey cloudscape outside for if Garak's information was true, the implications were very serious indeed. "I see," she said faintly, watching the ghost of her reflection on the window. "Do you?" At the condescending question, Janeway turned and eyed the Cardassian standing in her office. She didn't know what to make of him. "Perhaps not yet, but I will," she said with dire emphasis. "That's the best I can promise you." "In that case, I thank you for your honesty," Garak said with a smile. "It's so very refreshing." As he spoke, Janeway thumbed the padd off, thinking. The information had been carefully presented, a collection of facts and evidence that had been gathered over time. She suspected Garak had had the information even before they'd met -- a carefully engineered occasion with this specific goal, Janeway suspected -- yet he had waited. "It's been two weeks, Garak. Why wait this long to come to me with this?" "There's an old saying," Garak said as he joined Janeway by the windows. In the dull glow of the hidden sun, his skin was the colour of brushed steel. "'Acquaintance without patience is like a candle with no light.' There were uncertainties I needed to resolve before coming to you." "And why me?" Garak turned away from the window to face her, and his smile was as clouded as the sky behind him. "Why not you?" he countered. "Why not Admiral Venar at Intelligence, or even Nechayev? I'm a nobody." "Oh, quite the contrary," he said and stepped closer. Janeway could feel the heat radiating off him. "I didn't go to Venar or Nechayev because I don't know them. I know you, Kathryn. You, I trust." Janeway didn't quite know what to say to that. She was almost certain Garak was not telling the entire truth if any truth at all, but she did know he had his reasons and in due time she'd figure out what they were. Meanwhile, she needed to keep a close eye on the ambassador -- a proposition she found she was looking forward to. She'd been so very bored for so long and her new acquaintance didn't seem like a man who would be anywhere but at the centre of intrigue. "Mr. Garak, a friend of mine is hosting a celebration tomorrow night," Janeway said at length. She was almost certain she was making a mistake but she couldn't help herself; there was no puzzle that didn't appeal to her and Garak was an enigma of a kind she hadn't faced in years. "A Halloween party." "Ah -- the Terran holiday we discussed recently?" "Yes. As it happens, my invitation is for two. Given the state of my social life," Janeway said, glancing at the picture of Seven before offering Garak a slight smile, "I intended to go alone. However, I was wondering whether you'd like to accompany me." Garak blinked and Janeway was secretly enjoying the fact that for once, she'd managed to surprise the Cardassian. "Me, accompany you? To what possible end or purpose?" he said with a small gesture of confusion. Janeway leaned in closer, thinking of what to say but finding herself increasingly distracted by Garak's proximity. She was really beginning to like his scent and she could almost taste the heady tang of his pheromones as she inhaled them. They heated her core and the quicksilver of her nerves and it was a pleasant sensation -- the frisson of arousal that shot through in her. Janeway mused that ennui was not the only thing she'd had to endure for too long: she'd missed other things, too. Perhaps getting to know the ambassador better could alleviate some these other droughts and if it did, well...Janeway smiled to herself. She wouldn't necessarily be adverse to such adventure. "For you, it'd be a chance to see us humans at our strangest. For me, it'll be a chance to enjoy myself for once," she said and let her speculative thoughts leak into her tone of voice. "Conversation at these parties can be so very dull." "Conversation," Garak murmured and cocked his head. The innuendo in his voice was clear, and Janeway was taken on quick he was to catch up on her subtext. "Among other things." Janeway extended her hand, half in invitation and half in solicitous dismissal. "So. Are you game, Mr. Garak?" "How could one say no to such an opportunity?" he said and touched her hand with his fingertips. The contact was not quite a handshake, more a caress of her palm than anything else, and over before she could react to it. "I am, as the human saying goes, all yours, Kathryn." His soft words made Janeway smile again, and she knew it was not one of her pleasant smiles. It was obvious that Garak was well aware that he was stalking another predator; his boldness even at the face of that awareness was what made him so very attractive to Janeway. She mused how much Garak was like her, all hard edges and primal instincts tamed by their uniforms and disguises. She was looking forward to seeing what sort of a costume he'd select for the party and whether it would reveal more of him or even less than the trappings of ambassadorship did. "My assistant has the details." Garak nodded, the sly smile on his lips not budging an inch. "Very good. I'm looking forward to tomorrow, Kathryn. Until then, I bid you a good day." With that, Garak exited. As she gazed at the doors closing in Garak's wake, Janeway's smile widened. She would very much enjoy the look of bewilderment some people were going to sport on her arrival to the party at his arm. "This should be interesting," Janeway murmured to herself and tapped the padd in her hand against her other palm. She went over to her chair and sat down with a small sigh, her slender fingers coming to rest on the gleaming surface of her desk. She rapped the hard duranium that had once been hull plating on the Voyager, feeling the strength of the polished metal against her fingertips as she thought. After a moment of silent contemplation, she came to a decision and pressed the intercom button. "Eugene? Bring me a new thermos of coffee and see if Nechayev has any free time in her calendar this afternoon. Oh, and call Admiral Venar and ask if they'll be finally willing to part with Ambassador Garak's intelligence file." "Yes, admiral," came the prompt answer. "And what if Admiral Venar refuses again?" "Then remind the good admiral that we're on the same side and that paranoia is very unbecoming of a Vulcan." "Yes, ma'am," McNamara said with laughter in his voice. "Right away." Sitting back, Janeway folded her arms across her chest, feeling vaguely uneasy despite her earlier excitement. Things were in motion but she didn't quite yet understand why or what those things were, and such uncertainties bothered her. ----------------------------- End of part 3/8. [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]