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It wasn’t easy work, but it was important work. And Sloan wasn’t a man to shy away from important work, no matter the cost. He activated his personal transporter, materializing into Bashir’s bedroom closet.
Sloan peered at Bashir sleeping through the narrow slits in his closet door. Julian Bashir. A mystery and a marvel. Brilliant, yet naive. Too idealistic. But, he was eager. Eager for power. Eager for glory. Sloan was certain that with the right amount of -
“Excuse me,” said a quiet, steady voice behind him. “I wasn’t expecting company tonight.”
Sloan’s mind raced as he felt the end of a phaser press into the small of his back. His dick twitched with excitement at the threat. Who could — ah, yes, of course. “Elim Garak,” he responded cooly. “I should have known to expect you here.”
“Yes, you should have,” said Garak. “And if you were a more talented intelligence agent, you might have.”
Sloan prickled at the insult, his lips tightening. He spoke through his teeth. “You’re interfering with Federation affairs.”
“Section 31 is just as much a part of the Federation as the Obsidian Order is part of the Cardassian government, wouldn’t you say?”
Sloan scowled. “Don’t play semantics with me. Your dear doctor may appreciate it, but -”
Garak jabbed him sharply with the phaser. Sloan winced in pain and pleasure, holding back a moan. “You’re not really in a position to make demands.”
“Fine. What is it that you want?”
“For you to leave, of course.”
“Not likely,” said Sloan. He waited in dazed anticipation for another phaser jab, but it didn’t come. He wondered if he could entice Garak into being more aggressive. “I have a mission to carry out, at any price.”
“Any price?”
He sucked in a sharp breath, anticipating retaliation. “You heard me.”
“Oh, well why didn’t you just say so from the start?” said Garak with amusement. The phaser was removed from his back. Sloan tried to ignore his disappointment. “Perhaps we can develop some kind of schedule, to help us not interfere with each other’s affairs.”
“A schedule?” Sloan laughed quietly. “Are you serious?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t want to interfere with your very important work.”
Sloan sighed with aggravation. “You know, I don’t really appreciate your tone, considering -”
Garak’s hands promptly clasped either side of Sloan’s face, and he twisted them, snapping his neck. Sloan crumpled against the wall, sliding to the floor.
A terrible screech came from somewhere in the closet above him; Garak jumped despite himself, spinning around to investigate. Quark stared down at him wide-eyed from a high metal shelf, clutching it tightly. “Did you have to do that?!”
Garak was baffled, and admittedly, a little impressed. It wasn’t often that someone could slip past his attention. “Quark? What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question!” snapped Quark. “By the way, the deal is off. I won’t be needing your services anymore. Just in case you were getting any ideas.” His fingers dug between the openings in the wire shelving, his eyes still wide with fear.
Before either of them could say anything else, the shelf rippled in Quark’s grasp. Quark retracted his fingers with a yelp as a hand materialized attached to a Bajoran Security Officer’s uniform. The hand grabbed him firmly by the lapel.
Garak was speechless. Well, almost. “Now, this is certainly unexpected.”
“Odo! Let go of me!” Quark struggled to no avail.
Garak wondered how he was going to talk himself out of this one. He cleared his throat. “Constable, I -”
“Don’t bother,” droned Odo, though it wasn’t clear exactly where his voice was coming from. “I witnessed the murder.” Quark hissed, still fighting to get away. “Luckily for you, the Federation has been trying to capture Luther Sloan dead or alive for months now.” Odo huffed in disgust. “You’ll probably get some kind of reward. Either way, it’s beyond my jurisdiction.”
Garak allowed his relief to show. “Well, I suppose I’m running into some good fortune, after all.”
“Let go of me!” said Quark. He managed to get out of Odo’s grasp and toppled to the floor.
Odo slithered off of the wall and regained his complete humanoid form, folding his arms and glaring down at Quark. “All right, get up.”
Quark stared at him, but stayed where he landed. “What? So, he can murder someone right in front of you, but I’m the one you’re going to harass?”
“Stealing personal possessions from a Starfleet officer to scan for one of your client’s holoprograms is reason enough. And I’m not harassing you, I’m arresting you.”
Quark balked, finally getting to his feet and dusting off his pants. “I was going to bring everything back!”
Odo chuckled, rolling his eyes and grabbing Quark by the arm. “Ha, I’m sure. Let’s go.”
“I do not think that is wise,” said a stern voice in the corner. All three of them turned in surprise. It was Lieutenant Commander Worf, in his pajamas.
“Worf?” said Quark and Odo in unison. Garak studied him with some anxiety, swallowing hard. Perhaps his skills were getting more rusty than he thought.
“What are you doing here?” asked Odo.
Worf folded his arms, clearly irritated. “I was investigating the reason why five people, some of them senior officers, were in Dr. Bashir’s closet. I was worried something was wrong!”
Odo looked between Worf and Sloan. “And you… aren’t worried about the corpse on the floor?”
Worf regarded Sloan’s body with distaste. “The man was a coward. I do not care how he died.”
“Wait a minute. What do you mean, five?” asked Quark. “Last I counted, there’s four of us, not including you.”
Worf rolled his eyes. “I am talking about her.” He turned and pointed at Jadzia, who was in full uniform and sitting with one leg crossed over the other on a storage trunk in the corner.
Jadzia grinned and waved. “Hi.”
Odo huffed, looking around with exasperation. “Is there anyone else here that we don’t know about?”
Worf glared at him. “You are the Chief security officer! It is your job to know this information!”
Odo narrowed his eyes at Worf, stepping into his space. “I’d suggest that you don’t tell me what my job is ever again.”
Worf did not back down. “If you were doing your job, I would not have to!”
Quark turned to Jadzia. “What are you doing here, anyway?” He laughed. “I have to admit, this is getting a little ridiculous.”
Jadzia grinned a bit coyly. “…I probably shouldn’t say this, but Julian kind of has a thing for being watched in his sleep. Sometimes I indulge him, as a friend.”
“But… you’re still in your uniform,” said Odo, clearly put off.
Jadzia laughed. “Well, so are you.”
“I don’t wear clothes,” replied Odo with some irritation.
Jadzia laughed to herself, nodding. “That’s true. He kind of has a thing for it happening while I’m on duty. Or, as close to it as I can manage. Wearing the uniform is enough.”
Worf glared at her. “Why did you not tell me about this?”
Jadzia sighed. “Worf, we’ve talked about this a thousand times. I love you, but I shouldn’t have to get approval for everything that I do. Besides, this isn’t personal. It’s a favor, for a friend.”
“A favor for his sexual gratification!”
Odo grimaced. “Please, spare us the details.”
“Not everyone’s a prude,” said Quark, shoving Odo off. “I’d personally love the details. You know, to hold over him, the next time he skips out on his tab.”
“Be quiet, Ferengi!” Worf turned his attention back to Jadzia. “Do you not take our marriage seriously?”
An awful scraping noise filled the room. They all looked around, trying to identify its source. Their eyes widened as a wall vent was wrenched loose and pushed out. Chief O’Brien stumbled through. He looked up at all of them, his expression falling. “Aw, hell! Where am I now?”
“You’re in Bashir’s bedroom closet,” snapped Quark. “Just like the rest of us.”
O’Brien flushed a bit. “His what?” He shook himself out of it. “Hold on a minute. What are all of you doing here?”
“My job,” said Worf, his temper boiling.
O’Brien looked between them, uncertain. “…Were you all also locked in your own closets?”
“Ah… no,” said Garak.
“Of course not,” huffed Odo.
“A warrior does not get trapped in a closet!” said Worf.
“Oh, really?” said Jadzia, folding her arms. “Then what are you still doing here?”
Worf narrowed his eyes at her. “You know perfectly well what I am doing here!”
Quark laughed, regarding O’Brien. “You really are unlucky. Maybe you should stand by my high rollers at the Dabo wheel.”
O’Brien looked around, still unsure of how to respond. “It just doesn’t make any sense. All of the vents usually lead to -” He eyed Sloan on the floor, and scrambled to his feet. “Jesus! What happened to him?”
“That does not matter,” said Worf. “Why are you here?”
O’Brien stumbled over his words. His eyes kept flitting back over Sloan’s corpse. Mangled, lifeless, just like… He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Well. I uh. I would have called for Keiko, but she’s on Bajor. And, as luck would have it, my communicator’s broken and I couldn’t get to my tools. I thought the vent might take me into the corridor. I don’t know why it lead here.”
“Some questions are better left unanswered,” offered Garak.
Odo turned sharply to look at him. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
Garak brushed it off. “Oh, nothing. I’m just saying who knows what kind of purposes the quarters on this station were used for prior to the Federation taking over.”
“I think we’re all well aware enough of that,” said Quark, pursing his lips with disgust. “I’m with Odo this time. Spare us the details.”
O'Brien looked between everyone again, beyond confused. “Hold on -”
“So, this is where you all are!”
Everyone spun around to see Sisko. “Captain!”
Sisko chuckled, a bit beside himself. He wiped his brow, resting his hands on his hips. “What are you all doing in here?” He eyed the dead man on the floor. “Is that Luther Sloan?”
Garak stepped into view, adjusting his tunic. “Ah, yes, Captain. He was… attempting to harm Dr. Bashir. But as you can see, I have taken care of it.”
“That doesn’t answer the question of why you were here in the first place,” spat Odo.
Sisko waved his hand in dismissal. He knew enough about Garak and Bashir’s relationship to not want to ask more questions. “Never mind that. The Federation is going to be thrilled when they get this news.”
“Ugh,” Odo rolled his eyes.
“I hope you don’t mind me asking, Captain,” said O’Brien. “But… why are you here? Did you also get trapped in your closet?”
“What? No. I was looking for all of you! No one was at their posts.”
. . .
Kira looked around Ops in exasperation. “Where is everyone?!”
Just then, a call came in on the main view screen.
“Oh, this had better be good.” Kira answered it.
“Nerys,” said a syrupy voice on the screen. “It’s so good to see you again.”
“Dukat!” Kira folded her arms. “What do you want? And where are you?” Dukat’s face was so close to the screen, she could barely see anything else.
Dukat turned away from the screen. “Ah! Captain Sisko. What a fun coincidence that we find ourselves together once more.”
“Captain?” Kira peered at the dark screen in concern. “Are you all right?”
The camera turned, revealing a very tired looking Sisko. “We’re fine.”
“We’re…?” Kira didn’t understand.
Sisko sighed. “Just get down here as soon as possible.”
“Where’s ‘here’?”
“Dr. Julian Bashir’s closet!” said Worf with clear impatience.
Quark’s face popped into view. “And for the love of the Eternal Vault, please bring a body bag.”
Kira’s face scrunched up with confusion and horror. “What?!”
Sisko appeared to be quieting people offscreen. He turned back to Kira. “Uh, Quark’s right. But everything’s okay. I think. I’ll explain when you get here, Major. Sisko out.”