Author: Lauren Francis

Series: DS9

Codes: K/Du (sort of)

Rating: PG

First Posted: 4/98

Setting: After "Waltz", but before "WDTDON" (which I personally pretend never happened!)

Synopsis: A mentally imbalanced Dukat has plans for the wormhole, but is unprepared for what he
encounters inside.

The wormhole blossomed open. Swirling lights and gasses spun an intricate design against the blackness of
space. Illuminated patterns danced and whirled. After a few brilliant seconds, the opening winked out of
sight as if it had never been.

Dukat sat slumped in the pilot’s chair of the shuttlecraft, his long arms crossed over his chest. The beauty
of the opening wormhole was lost on him. The Cardassian’s cold, glassy eyes stared straight ahead,
hooded and dark below his scaled brow ridges. Flashing lights snaked and pooled about the small shuttle as
it careened through the long corridor. The strobes erratically illuminated his haggard and lined face.

"That was a brilliant move, Sir, to rig a cloaking device to the shuttle." Damar praised him warmly. "I don’t
think the station detected us at all."

Dukat ignored him.

"Our plan is working perfectly. No one can stop us now."

Dukat closed his eyes, but said nothing.

Damar’s stocky form shimmered and disappeared. There were a few moments of silence, then Weyoun’s
elegant frame sidled along side of Dukat. The Vorta bowed with a condescending expression in his violet
eyes.

"Hail, the conquering hero," Weyoun’s smile was oily. "Tell me, Dukat, don’t you think the Dominion will be
annoyed if you go through with this plot? Destroying the wormhole just to get the Bajorans’ attention is a
little extreme, don’t you think?"

Dukat growled deep in his throat, but did not look up. The last few months had been a struggle in learning to
control his three ‘demon-muses.’ He found that if he could ignore them with discipline and self-control, they
would go away. Unfortunately, they tended to show up more frequently in times of stress.

Dukat shook himself.

He was in control now.

He knew what he had to do.

Sensors on the shuttle console indicated that they had reached the mid-point inside the wormhole. Dukat
cut the power to the engines. The cabin became deathly quiet. He glanced towards the cargo area of the
compartment where he had jury-rigged a photon torpedo into the ship’s systems. A warp core breach would
probably have been just as effective, but he wanted to be sure. This would all be over soon.

Kira’s low laugh sounded close to his ear. "You’ll never succeed. Everything you touch turns to ashes."

He could feel her breath on his neck ridges. He clenched his teeth. She was the hardest to ignore.

"You’re a pathetic failure, Dukat. Everyone in the quadrant knows it.

Dukat’s hollow eyes darted sideways to look at her. In the flashing light, her beautiful face was twisted into a
pale mask of scornful amusement.

He winced, trying to shut out her words.

"We Bajorans will never respect you, We revile you."

"Stop it, Major."

"No one could ever really care about you. People only pretended to like you because you were powerful."

"Please, go away and leave me alone," he hissed.

"Now you are nothing. You are not worth caring about."

It was too much. Hearing those hateful words pouring out of those rosebud lips was more than he could
bear. He sprung out of his chair and grabbed the Major by the shoulders.

"You will stop right now, or I’ll…"

Kira burst into peals of harsh laughter. "Or you’ll what?" She brought her ridged nose very close to his.
"Threaten all you want, it won’t change who you are. We all know you; selfish, arrogant, vicious monster."

A guttural cry ripped from Dukat’s lips as Kira’s laughing form shimmered then disappeared in his arms.
His empty fists pounded the shuttle console. Seething with frustration, he grabbed any loose objects he
could get his hands on and threw them across the cabin. Sparks flew from the consoles as he smashed the
surfaces in his rampage. Shards cut and plasma burned his thick grey flesh. He felt nothing but
all-consuming rage.

Spent and shaking, he found himself kneeling on the floor in front of the torpedo. An eerie silence filled the
cabin, broken only by the popping of broken conduits and Dukat’s heavy, uneven breathing.

So this is how it ends.

No honorable burial.

No parade.

No statue. A bitterly ironic smile flickered over his lips, then faded.

No one to weep over his grave.

Unbidden, a face formed in his broken mind; a sweet, round Bajoran face with wide brown doe-eyes and
stern little pink mouth. Her brow was furrowed, but with empathy, not revulsion. Dukat’s icy blue eyes
closed to the image. In time, Nerys would understand and forgive him. This was for the best. His trembling,
bleeding fingers moved toward the torpedo’s activation pad.

Peace at last.

There was no explosion.

Dukat’s eyes flew open and had trouble adjusting to the searing blanket of enveloping light. A heartbeat was
loud in his ears.

His own heartbeat.

Was he dead? He couldn’t feel his body at all. Fear was thick in his throat. As he tried to calm himself, he
became aware of another presence in the vicinity. He was not alone.

"I demand to know what is going on!" His eyes darted back and forth, trying to pick out anything from the
shimmering fog.

He felt a wave of nausea as the swirling white coalesced. When the dizziness passed, he found himself in
the Ops Center on Terok Nor. The room was deserted and strangely out of focus. What the hell was going
on?

"It is another corporeal being," sounded a familiar voice behind him. Dukat whirled around and stood face
to face with Captain Sisko.

"Benjamin?" Dukat whispered suspiciously. He felt the scales along his back tingle with alarm.

The Captain’s quiet brown eyes stared unblinking at him. "Why has this one come to us?"

"It means to destroy us." A second voice intoned, making Dukat’s breath catch. He slowly turned, his eyes
wide with terror. He was on the promenade, standing in front of Ziyal. Dukat sank to his knees before her.

"Ziyal, my dear girl," he choked.

"This one is more aggressive than the Sisko. It is violent. It means to destroy us." Ziyal stared impassively
down at the Cardassian, her eyes flat and emotionless.

"No! No Ziyal! I would never hurt you!" Dukat reached out to touch her.

"It should be eliminated." Ziyal had no expression on her face.

Dukat’s mind reeled. Had he died and gone to hell?

Yet a third familiar voice joined in. "This one is damaged."

Looking up from his prostrate position, Dukat saw that Kira Nerys had come to stand next to his daughter.
He was briefly aware that they were now in the station’s security office and he was crouched in the corner
of one of the holding cells. Staring up at the Bajoran, he steeled himself for the flood of accusations that
would inevitably pour from her mouth. She moved closer to him. He held up his arm as if to protect himself.

"This one is damaged," Kira repeated. "We should repair it and return it to its linear existence."

The Cardassian shrank from her outstretched hand as it touched a bleeding gash on his arm.

Dukat blinked. He had been unaware that he was injured.

Her fingers burned like ice. Under the slight pressure, the torn gray tissue shivered, then knitted itself
together, healing quickly and completely. She then moved to a darkened blistering burn on his neck ridge,
then to his other minor wounds. Speechless, he stared at her with shock. This woman wasn’t one of his
‘demon-muse’ tormentors nor was it the real Kira. Her mild features registered only the slightest shades of
curiosity.

They were again in Ops. Captain Sisko paced around Dukat, staring at him intently.

"Who are you?" Dukat’s wary eyes darted from Sisko’s impassive face, to Kira’s, to Ziyal’s then back to
Sisko’s. A fragment of a memory flashed into his foggy mind.

"Are you the wormhole aliens that Sisko spoke of? Are you the Prophets?" There was disbelief in his voice.

The trio ignored Dukat’s question.

"It is dangerous. It means to destroy us." Ziyal-who-was-not-Ziyal insisted.

The scene altered yet again. They were back on Dukat’s stolen shuttle, facing the rigged photon torpedo.
The three entities seemed to be waiting for an explanation.

"It was not my intention to harm you. This was the only way to…" Dukat began.

He felt a presence behind him even before he heard the mocking laughter. Dukat didn’t have to look back to
know that his "demon-muses" had returned. He tried to focus his complete attention on the three figures
before him and ignore the three behind him.

"If the wormhole were destroyed, then the Dominion couldn’t..." he tried again, but was interrupted by a
sharp bark of laughter from Weyoun.

"He doesn’t even know what he’s doing, he’s so far gone," the Vorta chuckled, perching on the corner of
the navigation console. "The Dominion certainly picked the wrong Cardassian to put its faith in."

"It was a noble idea, if misguided." Damar added.

"I only wanted to protect Bajor," Dukat said quietly.

Dukat’s Kira-demon draped her arm around his shoulder and tapped his armored chest with her other fist.
Dukat stiffened at her touch and tried not to acknowledge her presence.

"Look at the big, strong protector of Bajor!" she grinned. "Who are you trying to fool? You don’t want to
save Bajor; you want to destroy it! You said so yourself! You want to punish Bajor for not falling at your feet
in grateful submission!"

The three alien entities watched the scene with bland interest. The Kira-entity tilted her head to one side.

"I didn’t mean what I said that day. Captain Sisko made me so angry..." Dukat’s fists clenched in frustration.

Kira-demon slowly circled the Cardassian. "That’s right, Dukat. Don’t take any responsibility for your
actions. It’s always someone else’s fault."

"The Dominion has no use for such weakness," Weyoun chimed in.

"I am trying to do what is right!" Dukat protested.

The Sisko-alien stared at him. "We find your reasoning flawed."

The Kira-entity woodenly turned to her compatriots. "It is still damaged," she observed. "We should repair
it."

They were in his holding cell on board the Federation ship Honshu.

"The corporeal creatures value their imperfections." The Sisko-alien cautioned. "We should return it with its
defects."

The Kira-alien moved toward Dukat. He shrank from her open, unwavering stare. "If we return it damaged,
it will not be accepted. It will find no comfort. It is alone."

Dukat shivered under her gaze. He felt vulnerable and unprotected.

"The creature must be destroyed or it will destroy us," the Ziyal-entity repeated. "It is malevolent."

"If we repair it, it will not harm us," the Kira-alien suggested.

Kira-demon lunged toward the wormhole entities, eyes blazing. "He doesn’t deserve your help! He is a
heartless killer!"

The two Kiras stood face to face, staring at each other. Two masks, one emotionless, one distorted with
hatred. Dukat had to close his eyes.

When he reopened them, the Sisko-entity was sitting at the Prefect’s desk, with the Ziyal and Kira-entities
standing on either side.

"The Sisko showed us that a corporeal being is the sum of its experiences."

Weyoun gave a pleased grunt. "That should be just the thing to sign his death warrant."

The scenery began to shift. Dukat stood, mesmerized, as a mosaic of distorted, yet familiar vignettes
flickered around him.

Presiding over the execution of suspected Bajoran assassins.

Cradling a squirming, pink-gray infant.

Giving empty, propaganda-filled speeches.

Issuing commands on the bridge of a stolen Klingon bird-of-prey.

Aiming a phaser rifle at his half-Bajoran daughter.

Withstanding torture from an operative of the Obsidian Order.

Touring unspeakable wretchedness in a Bajoran mine.

Making passionate love to Naprem.

Striking a bloody deathblow to an enemy soldier.

Verbally sparring with Major Kira.

Witnessing his father’s public execution.

Kneeling over a desolate, sandy gravesite.

Dukat watched in silence as the memories washed over him. Fear, joy, anger, pleasure, despair; it was as
if he were experiencing them all for the first time. Every nerve felt raw. His chest filled with scalding,
drowning emotion.

Sinking to his knees, Dukat pressed his fists to his forehead, trying to shut it all out.

The area shifted to a darkened corridor in the habitat ring of Terok Nor. A slender, innocent form lay
sprawled on the bloodstained deck plates. Dukat scrambled backwards, away from Ziyal’s still body.

"Please, not here!" he gasped, his eyes wild. "I want it to stop! Please, make it stop!"

"This one does not value its existence. It wants to end the Game," the Sisko-alien observed quietly.

The three demon-muses stood triumphant over Dukat’s crumpled, shaking frame.

"He is weak, he should be destroyed," Weyoun grinned.

"He is a traitor, he should be destroyed" Damar agreed.

"He is evil, he should be destroyed" Kira chanted.

The silence was broken only by the dry, wracking sound of tearless Cardassian weeping.

"It has lost the Game. It wishes to end its existence."

Dukat was startled to find the Kira-entity so close. He looked up at her with darkened, despairing eyes.

"Please, forgive me. Let me die in peace," he whispered, his voice raw and cracking.

The Kira-alien slowly turned to her companions, who nodded slowly in unison. She turned to the
Cardassian and placed her icy fingers on his flinching cheek.

"We are of Bajor," she stated. "You are of Bajor."

 **********

"Preparing to enter the wormhole," Major Kira stated in business-like tones. She glanced at the ensign
sitting in the runabout’s co-pilot’s station. Ravi Kumar was young, but Chief O’Brien claimed that he was a
genius in communications engineering. Kira just hoped he could repair the damaged subspace relay
quickly enough to avoid the attention of the Jem‘Hadar. It was a risky mission, but renewing the ability to
receive information from the Gamma side of the wormhole would be invaluable.

"Ready, Ensign Kumar?"

He nodded his dark head nervously.

"All right, let’s do it." With a deep breath, she directed the runabout into the mouth of the wormhole. Every
muscle and nerve was taut with anticipation. For all she knew, a whole Jem’Hadar fleet awaited them on the
other side. It was best to be prepared for the worst. She tried not to wish for the Defiant’s reassuring
cloaking device and superior weaponry. The Defiant was needed to protect the station and Bajor. She
would just have to make do with what she had.

As they swung into the Gamma Quadrant, nothing but vast, black space greeted them.

"Sensors show no ships in the area. No indication of warp signatures." Kumar stated

Kira expelled the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.

"Good. Let’s find that relay and get out of here."

As they were locating the damaged equipment, the wormhole suddenly reopened behind them.

"Major!" Kumar’s voice was tight with fear.

"Sensor report, Ensign," she said calmly. No need to panic. Yet.

"Something is coming out of the wormhole."

"Magnification on screen," Kira ordered.

A tiny glowing object separated itself from the whirling lights of the wormhole and began to approach the
runabout’s position. The wormhole winked out of sight, leaving the object spinning towards them. Kira
squinted at the view screen, then involuntarily shuddered with recognition.

"Prophets! That looks like an Orb!" she whispered.

"I’m reading a life form, Major."

Kira turned wide eyes on Kumar, then back to the screen. "Set up a level one containment field and beam it
aboard, Ensign."

"Yes, Sir." Kumar’s fingers flew over the console. "Initiating transport."

Kira drew her phaser and positioned herself in front of the transport pad. The security field shimmered, but
she wasn’t taking any chances. Adrenaline surged through her body as the familiar form of an Orb
materialized. It hung, spinning and jewel-like for a few heartbeats, then disappeared in a blinding flash of
light, leaving behind a humanoid figure.

"Dukat!" she choked, nearly dropping her weapon.

He was kneeling with his head down and his palms open and outstretched as if in prayer. The tattered
uniform hung on his lean form in rags, and his black hair had grown long and wild, streaked with white. He
stirred at the sound of her voice. Slowly, the ridged face turned toward her and the cool blue eyes opened,
seemingly having trouble focusing. Kira gaped at him.

"Good evening, Major," his smile was a little sad. "I have missed you."

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