Title: Prisoner of Castle Orion
Author: Paula Stiles (thesnowleopard@hotmail.com)
Series: DS9
Part: NEW 1/1
Rating [PG]
Codes: O, G, B/f, V/f, Qu
Summary: Unable to revenge themselves upon Bashir, who has commandeered their
illicit holoprogram, Odo and Garak take their frustrations out on Quark.
Disclaimer: They're Paramount's toys, and I have to give them all back when I leave
the sandbox.
Archive: Yes for ASC. Others should ask first.
Note: This is a sequel to "The Warlord of Orion's Belt" and occurs behind the scenes of
"His Way". Originally, there wasn't gonna be a sequel, but after some arm-twisting and
water torture by my beta committee (namely, Valerie Shearer, Matt Edwards, and
Victoria Meredith), I saw the error of my ways. This is number three in my "Split
Personality" series, which will end (barring death threats from my beta committee) with
"Redjac Was Here." and "Girls Night Out At Vic's Lounge" "Split Personality" is a
sequel to the episode, "The Passenger."
PRISONER OF CASTLE ORION
Madame Rotva, Bashir decided, was a perfectly nice girl--just misunderstood.
Perhaps it was the laser whip, or maybe it was her green skin. Fantasy aside, Orion
women could be alarming in person--even holographic ones. How fortunate that he
was feeling in the mood for some danger.
Odo and Garak hadn't fleshed her out much, though. So, Bashir had spliced in a
few subroutines from Russian spy Anastasia Komananov in his secret agent program.
Felix had shown him how to do it, the last time Bashir had been on Earth. It worked out
well, since both Rotva and Komananov were programmed to find the characters he
played in both programs wildly attractive. And it livened up his conversation with
Rotva. He hadn't had to experience her whip at all. Odo and Garak had been less
fortunate--although Garak hadn't seemed to mind.
Vantika was sulking. He'd found Bashir's interpretation of his villainous namesake
insulting and refused to play any part in it. He'd remain obstinately silent whenever
Bashir was in the program, which only increased Bashir's affection for the program.
Playing around with an Orion temptress didn't seem to rouse Jules' awareness at all,
either. For the first time in several weeks, Bashir's mind was blessedly clear of other
personalities. The silence was golden.
"So, my dear," Bashir said, as the lethal lady slid into the hrana pool with him and
massaged his shoulders. "Tell me again how many husbands you've had."
"15," she replied proudly.
"15!" Bashir idly skimmed water with his hand, breaking up his reflection and his
view of the pool's bottom. The water was polarized so that one had to look directly
down into it to see through it.
He tilted his head back and looked, upside down, at Madame Rotva's lovely, sharp-
toothed face. "Do you ever run into any of them?" he asked.
"Ah, no," she said, sounding tragic. "They all died young. Very sad."
"Really. How...interesting." But not surprising. She was, after all, the villain's
girlfriend. "How did they die?"
She shrugged. "Various ways. Poison. Faulty force fields. Errant disruptor bolts."
She waved a dismissive hand. "You know, the usual hazards of life."
"Ah." *The usual hazards of life?!*
"They all died happy, though," she added--reassuringly, he supposed. My, what an
interesting program this was becoming.
The door at the other end of the room slid open. Bashir jumped and groped for his
disruptor, which he kept handy on the broad, flat, granite rim of the pool. Madame
Rotva helpfully yanked it out of its holster and slapped it into his palm. He aimed the
overenamelled and gold inlaid weapon at the doorway and snapped, "*That's* far
enough, thank y--Vic! What're *you* doing here?"
Vic, the self-aware, Sinatraesque hologram who was Bashir's latest gift from his
holoprogramming friend Felix, stopped short in the doorway and raised his hands.
"Hey, Pally. Don't shoot. It's just me."
Bashir put up his disruptor and scowled. "Vic, you like to live much too dangerously.
I could have shot you. You might have died for good, or at least had some memory
loss." Vic's ability to run free within Quark's holosuite system had its up sides, but
walking in on *this* program wasn't one of them.
Vic lowered his hands and advanced cautiously into the room. "Yeah, well, I didn't
realize how jumpy you were. Haven't seen you in Vic's in awhile. I wondered
where you got off to. I can see what kept you, though." He looked around the room and
up and down Madame Rotva appreciatively. Bashir heard Madame Rotva growl in
response. He couldn't help but smile wryly.
"Madame Rotva has generously offered to help me...relax, " he admitted. "As for my
caution, well, I'm not the only player in this scenario."
"Constable Odo and Garak," Vic suggested.
Bashir was startled. "Uh, yes. How did you know?"
"I came looking for Odo," Vic explained, approaching the tub to sit on it, then
pausing as Bashir automatically levelled his disruptor at him.
"Sorry," Vic said, grinning sheepishly.
Bashir grinned back. Despite the intrusion, he liked Vic. "That's all right. It's just that
I'd rather Madame Rotva saw me naked than you. Try the chair over there. So. You
came looking for Odo. I thought you and Odo didn't quite see eye to eye."
"I'm helping him out with a little problem d'amour," Vic said, settling into the
ridiculously upholstered bathchair. "Seems he's in love with Major Kira."
Bashir's mouth dropped open. "You're joking. Odo's in love with Major *Kira*?
That's ridic--no...wait. Actually, that makes perfect sense. Really, that explains a great
deal."
Vic shrugged and looked around. "So, Julian. Who are you in this program,
anyway?"
"Me? I'm the Villain."
Vic raised his eyebrows. "You're the what?"
"The Villain."
"But--why? The Villain always loses in holoprograms."
Bashir grinned evilly. "Not in this scenario. In this one, the Villain usually wins. I
made some changes."
Vic frowned. "With all due respect, Doc, that doesn't seem very fair."
"Oh, I assure you, it's quite fair. I merely removed the undue advantage that the
Constable and Mr. Garak had given themselves over my character. In the original
version, they always won." Bashir slid down into the pool until his chin touched the
water and looked innocently up at Vic. It was a difficult expression, with Madame
Rotva's legs wrapped around his waist from behind, but he managed.
Vic did not look impressed. "I'm surprised that they let you do that, Doc. Neither of
those guys is a pushover."
"Well, they weren't at all cooperative, at first...until I discovered they'd patterned the
villain on me."
"Oh," Vic said. Then, belatedly, "*Oh.*"
"Exactly."
"So," Vic added. "You've been blackmailing them."
Madame Rotva slid a hand under the water down Bashir's chest. He liked that.
Bashir nuzzled the inside of her elbow--she liked that too. "Blackmail is such a nasty
word," he said. "I'm just having a little fun with them, for awhile."
"Revenge," Vic growled, looking sour. "That doesn't become you, Doc. Does this
'fun' include Quark?"
Bashir sighed in exasperation. "What are you talking about , Vic? And what are you
doing here, anyway? Odo and Garak aren't even in here. I only started the program
half an hour ago--by myself."
"Well, somehow, they slipped in without your noticing," Vic said. He glanced at
Bashir's disruptor. "But, I guess you already figured they could do that. Odo was
supposed to show up at my place for a lesson 15 minutes ago. When he didn't show,
I asked the computer where he was. And guess what? It said he was here, in Holosuite
Eight. Then, Rom came running in, asking if I'd seen Quark. Seems the last he'd seen
him, Quark had been talking to Odo and Garak. But, then he disappeared and now his
commbadge isn't working. "
"That's not an uncommon occurrence," Bashir noted. Still, he couldn't help feeling
somewhat apprehensive. Odo and Garak had proved to be entirely too inadequate in
the adversarial department. He felt certain that they were setting him up.
"Yeah," Vic conceded. "So I've heard. Anyway, I thought I'd come over here and
check it out. Didn't expect to find you in here, though--especially in this, ah, situation."
Bashir chuckled. "Well, I don't spend *all* of my time tormenting the Constable and
Mr. Garak. Madame Rotva has certain skills that were going to waste in the original
version. I just thought I'd spend a little more time with her, while I waited for my
adversaries to show up. So, you think they're here, with Quark?"
"That was my thought, yes," Vic admitted.
Bashir sighed in exasperation. "And I suppose, if that's true, you want me to rescue
him?"
"Well," Vic began. "That was what I had in mind."
Bashir tried to feel any sympathy towards Quark--and failed miserably. "With all due
respect, Vic, he did rat on them to me. If it weren't for him, I never would have caught
them in the act. I can understand why they'd be a little angry with him.
"Fair enough,"Vic conceded. "But, Julian, don't you feel the least little bit obligated
to him--
At that moment, the Captain of the Warlord's Guard burst through the door,
shouting, "Warlord! Intruders!"
"Bloody Hell!" Bashir yelled, snapping up the disruptor and firing at the Captain. At
the last moment, he recognized the man, and just managed to shift his aim. The shot
scorched the door above the guard's head as the man, white-faced, dove for cover. Vic
started and shrank back in the chair.
"You idiot!" Bashir berated the guard, exasperated. "What're you doing? I could
have shot you!"
The Captain grovelled. "Your pardon, Warlord. I thought you were alone. It is just
that I thought you should know--we have captured two intruders."
Bashir glanced at Vic, who looked confused, and willed his breathing and heart rate
back to normal. "Let me guess," he said to the guard. "Constable Odo and his
assistant, Mr. Garak, yes?"
The Captain nodded eagerly. "Yes, Warlord. We found them near the Cresman Mud
Pools, just outside the Castle walls. They were chasing some other, uh, person
named...Kwork."
"Did they catch him?" Bashir asked, feeling horrified, guilty, and amused all at the
same time.
"Warlord, I believe they already had caught him--several times--before we captured
them. They seemed very annoyed with us at making them stop."
The sound of approaching footsteps grew loud outside the door. "Warlord," said the
Captain, opening the door. "I took the liberty of bringing them here."
"No! Don't bring them in here--Oh, God." Bashir covered his eyes, humiliated, as the
two prisoners were marched in.
"Well, Doctor," Garak said sardonically. "I see that you and Madame Rotva have
wasted no time becoming acquainted."
Bashir took his hand away from his face, fingered his disruptor, and tried to regain
his shredded dignity. It was difficult, with Madame Rotva's subterranean growl raising
the hairs on the back of his neck.
"Hullo, gentlemen. I see I'm not the only one who's been losing the plot in this
program." Garak and Odo glared back at him. They were both covered in brown, fizzy
mud that reeked of sasparilla. Bashir wondered why.
"Just get it over with, Doctor," Odo snarled. "Neither Garak nor I are in the mood for
your jokes tonight."
"What about Quark?" Bashir retorted. "Is he in the mood for your jokes tonight? Our
'agreement' didn't include him."
Odo and Garak glanced at each other, looking surprised but not very guilty. "My
dear Doctor Bashir," Garak sputtered. "Whatever are you talking about?"
Bashir looked at the Guard Captain. "Where *is* Quark, anyway?"
The Guard Captain looked embarassed. "Ah, he was carried off before we could
retrieve him, Warlord."
"'Carried off?' No," Bashir waved his non-disruptor holding hand impatiently. "Never
mind. I get the picture. Don't look at me like that, Vic. We'll go get him out of whatever
mess he and the Pain Twins have gotten him into."
Everybody looked blankly at Bashir. "'The Pain Twins'?" Vic asked.
"Yes, these two: Sadism and Masochism," Bashir explained. He glared at Odo and
Garak. "You two are both a piece of work, you know that? You just don't know when to
stop. Now, everybody out. Madame Rotva and I are getting dressed and we don't need
an audience."
Hastily, the guards herded Odo and Garak out the door. The two of them bickered at
each other as they went. Vic started to follow, then hesitated. "Uh, Pally...time might be
of the essence, you know?"
"Vic," Bashir replied irritably. "We're just getting *dressed.*" Vic turned and left,
looking unconvinced.
"Sorry, love," Bashir assured Madame Rotva, who was sucking her canines in
disappointment. "But, Vic does have a point. Duty calls."
Twenty minutes later, Bashir stood in his Warlord costume on the edge of the
Cresman Mud Pools. The replicated caftan didn't hang right and the jackboots were
itchy, but he'd never quite dared ask Garak to make him a custom fit.
Madame Rotva stood beside him, dressed in black, of course. Vic stood on his other
side, looking at Odo and Garak bemusedly. Two guards watched over Odo and Garak,
a few meters away. The damp castle walls loomed behind Bashir's party. In front of
them, the bank fell away into brown mud, which stretched depressingly off to the
yellow horizon.
One of the guards spotted Quark, first. The Ferengi appeared from behind a copse
of dying bushes, about 20 meters away. He wasn't on his feet. He was wrapped up in
a tentacle that consisted of what looked like a serpent's vertebral bones. The base of
the tentacle disappeared into the water, giving no sign of the rest of the creature.
Quark's shrieks were audible as the bony tentacle dangled him over the mud. "Ow,
oww, OWWWWW!" he wailed. "Haallllp! Lemme go! I didn't *do* anything. I didn't--
GLURB." The rest of his words were drowned out as the tentacle dipped him headfirst
into the mud. He disappeared up to his ankles. Bashir opened his mouth to stop the
program but Quark soon reappeared, spluttering. He was unhurt, but soaked through
with brown, fizzy mud.
"Augh! Root beer!" he cried in disgust. "Odo, you bastard. How *could* you?"
Confused, Bashir looked at Odo and Garak. "Root beer?"
Odo shrugged. "We didn't think you'd care if we changed the water in the pools to
root beer."
"No..." Bashir conceded. "No, I suppose not. Root beer. Huh."
"It seemed harmless enough--except to Quark, of course," Odo explained. "He can't
stand the drink."
"Right," Bashir said, deciding to just let that one go. "Computer--" he looked back at
Odo and Garak. "What *is* that thing, anyway?"
"It's a glentikor." Garak replied this time. "A monster from Cardassian children's
tales."
"Ah. I see." Shaking his head, Bashir turned back to Quark, who seemed to be
dwindling into the distance as the glentikor carried him off. "Computer, have the
glentikor bring Mr. Quark over here."
"Acknowledged," the computer replied colorlessly, almost drowned out by Quark's
squealing as the glentikor swiftly approached Bashir's party. The squealing became
deafening as the glentikor stopped in front of them, Quark dangling from its grip.
Bashir clapped his hands over his ears, which were more keen than the others'.
"Quark! Stop that!" he said sharply.
Startled, Quark stopped squealing. Bashir sighed in relief and said, "Computer,
have the glentikor put Mr. Quark down--gently--next to me."
The glentikor bowed over the bank of the mud pools and deposited Quark next to
Bashir, Vic, and Madame Rotva. Then, it disappeared back into the mud with a
squelch. Madame Rotva stepped back quickly from the sodden Ferengi and glowered
at him.
Quark lay on the bank, groaning. Bashir bent over him and gamely offered him a
hand up. "Quark, are you all right?" he said.
"Ohh," Quark moaned, sitting up and holding his head. "Ow." He looked down at
himself and shrieked in horror. "My third best suit!" He squirmed around and spotted
Odo and Garak, glaring at him from just a few meters away.
"You two!" he shouted. "I'll sue! I'LL SUE! Pain and suffering! Humiliation! When I'm
done with you you won't be able to pay the *interest* on the settlement if you both live
to be a hundred!"
"Oh, shut up, Quark," Odo said wearily.
"Now, now," Bashir interceded. "Quark does have a point. For one thing, you owe
him a new suit. Quark, I feel quite certain that Mr. Garak won't mind making you a nice,
new suit. For free. Will you, Garak?"
Garak glared at Bashir. If looks could have killed, Bashir would have been disruptor
ions on the wind. In the end, though, that was all Garak could do--glare. Finally, his
shoulders slumped and he admitted, "I suppose I *could* replace Quark's suit--even if
the style is a bit...louder than my usual designs."
"I'm sure you'll manage," Bashir replied sweetly. "Now, as to Quark's pain, suffering,
and humiliation--I believe you both owe him an apology."
"Absolutely not!" Odo snapped.
"My dear Doctor, surely you're joking!" Garak said, looking as outraged as Odo.
Bashir looked them both in the eye. "Gentlemen, that is not a request. Humiliating
Quark was never part of the deal, and you both know it. Don't bother to argue with me.
I have all of the aces in this particular hand. Now, apologize."
There was a very long silence. Bashir let it stretch. Quark opened his mouth to
speak, but stopped at Bashir's curt gesture.
Garak was the first to face the music. "Quark," he said, putting his hand over his
heart. "I am very, very sorry about what the Constable and I did to you. I deeply
apologize and I swear that I will never, ever do it again."
"Fair enough," Bashir said. "Constable?"
"What?" Odo snapped. "Oh, all right. Quark, I'm sorry."
"And?" Bashir prompted him.
"And, I swear I'll never, ever do it again," Odo mumbled.
"I don't think I heard you the first time, Constable," Bashir said.
Odo glowered at him. "You? You've got the hearing of a Ferengi. Oh, all right!
Quark! I swear I'll never, ever dip you in root beer flavored mud ever again. There. Are
you satisfied?"
Quark was completely unimpressed. "No, I'm not! Oh, come on," he whined at
Bashir. "He didn't mean that. You *know* that."
Bashir was unmoved. "That's enough, Quark. You get an apology, not a chance to
torment them back. Now, why don't you go back out to the bar while I straighten all this
out?"
"But--" Quark began.
Bashir didn't give him a chance to continue. "Computer," he ordered. "Open the
door for Holosuite Eight." The door appeared on the bank nearby. Bashir pointed at it.
"Go, Quark."
"Oh, all right!" Quark stomped out through the door, grumbling.
"Computer," Bashir said. "Keep the door open, but impose a privacy field." When the
computer had acknowledged this, he turned back to Odo and Garak.
"Constable," he said to Odo. "I first became aware of this situation with Quark when
Vic came here looking for you." Odo started, and turned silver in embarassment. "It
seems you had an appointment with him and missed it."
"Ah. Yes," Odo said, looking so miserable that Bashir felt sorry for him. "I'd forgotten
about that."
"I'm not surprised," Bashir replied gently. "This program seems to have had a most
unedifying effect on all of us. I think it might be best if we put it away now, don't you?"
Odo straightened his shoulders and looked Bashir in the eye. "I think you may be
right about that, Doctor. Thank you."
Bashir smiled. "And I'm sure that if you ask Vic nicely, and he has some time free,
you could reschedule your appointment." He turned to Vic. "Vic? What do you think?"
Vic beamed at him. "Doc, that's the best idea you've had all day. Look, Odo. Why
don't you just go on ahead to the Club and I'll catch up to you in a few minutes. I've got
a few loose ends to wrap up here."
"Of course," Odo said. "Thank you for your understanding."
"No problem, Pally," Vic said. "See ya." Odo left, looking relieved.
"Now, what was that all about?" Garak said, after Odo had gone.
"Nothing with which you need concern yourself," Bashir retorted.
Garak looked taken aback. "My, Doctor. You seem to have become quite the
authoritarian, lately. I hope you don't expect such a sunny reconciliation on my part.
You're not really going to shut down this program, are you? You've been having *so*
much fun humiliating the Constable and I; I just can't imagine you giving that up."
"Well, I am, Garak," Bashir insisted. "It's run its course."
Garak eyed him. "And what guarantee do I have that you'll actually keep all this to
yourself?"
"My word?" Bashir asked hopefully.
Garak laughed. "My dear Doctor! Do you seriously expect me to accept your word?"
"Garak," Bashir said, feeling very tired. "Go home."
"Why, Doctor," Garak replied bitterly. "You know perfectly well that that is the one
thing I cannot do."
"Go back to your shop, then. Or your quarters. Or take a walk on the Promenade. I
don't care where. Just get out of this holosuite." Bashir turned his back on Garak and
looked at the Castle so he wouldn't have to watch Garak leave. After a few moments,
he heard Garak squish to the door and go through it out into Quark's Bar.
Vic came up behind Bashir and put a hand on his shoulder. "It'll be okay, Doc. He'll
come around eventually."
Bashir smiled wearily at Vic. "I doubt that, Vic. Garak's an excellent hater. I have a
feeling that we won't be having any lunches together again for a very long time. Funny.
I'd been avoiding him these past few weeks."
Vic sighed. "I know, Doc. I left some friends behind in the neighborhood, too. It can
be tough. Still, you did the right thing."
"Thanks, Vic," Bashir said, feeling oddly comforted. "That means a lot. Really."
Vic looked embarassed. "Uh, while you're still feeling grateful, Doc, d'you think you
could do me a favor?"
Bashir was intrigued. "Sure, Vic. What?"
"That Madame Rotva," Vic hooked a thumb at the Orion temptress, who was
examining her claws for hangnails a few meters away. "Seems kind of a waste to let a
real nice dame like her go down with the ship, if you know what I mean."
Bashir burst out laughing. "Are you telling me that you want to recruit her over to
your program? Are you mad? Do you know how many husbands she's outlived?"
Vic shrugged and grinned. "Life ain't worth living without taking some risks, Doc."
Bashir grinned back. Vic's good humour was catching. "Ah, what the Hell. I tell you
what. When you get done with Odo, come back here. I'll give you half an hour. I'll
transfer her, and anybody else you can persuade to come with you, over to your
program after that. What do you say?"
"Thanks, Doc," Vic said happily. "But, what are you gonna do in the meantime?"
"Me?" Bashir walked over to Madame Rotva, and offered her his arm. She took it
with a shark-toothed smile. "I'm going back up to the hrana pool with Madame Rotva to
say my farewells. I'm sure the Constable and Mr. Garak won't mind."
END