A Simple Tailor

Full from our replicated dinners we had just devoured at Quark’s, Jadzia and I left the Ferengi bar and stepped back out onto the Promenade. The doors slid closed behind us, muffling the sound of spinning dabo wheels.

We continued along the curve of the Promenade in the same direction we were already walking.

The walk with Jadzia was surprisingly relaxing. When I first heard from Starfleet that I had to come here, I didn’t really know what to expect. So far, I have not been disappointed.

We must have been walking slower than usual from our full bellies because it felt like the Bajoran civilians on the station were passing us a little too quickly along the Promenade ring.

As we walked, vendors of all kinds sold anything from baked goods and Bajoran jewelry to Klingon cuisine, their shops built directly into the curved station walls.

The first shop we passed had a Bajoran artisan who had spread shimmering prayer beads across a small display table, their polished stones catching the amber light of the Promenade.

Another Bajoran vendor nearby was selling polished pagh beads beside a small stall stacked with freshly wrapped hasperat. Farther along, a Bolian merchant argued loudly with a customer over the price of a refurbished tricorder casing.

Jadzia caught that I was eyeing all the shops. She lightly nudged me in the ribs.

“If you see something you like, don’t hesitate to stop. We have plenty of time to tour the station tomorrow after your morning briefing.”

“Not tonight, Lieutenant. I may take you up on that offer tomorrow after the mission briefing. I need to make sure I’m sharp when I meet the rest of my new bridge crew.”

“I can see you don’t like to get out much.”

She chuckled as my face started to flush. She’s not wrong.

We walked a few more paces and I noticed a shop glowing not too far ahead. When we finally reached it, I could see a small tailoring sign visible through the front window.

Garak’s Clothiers.

The warm amber glow of the shop spilled softly onto the Promenade.

I got lost staring through the windows when Jadzia noticed and nudged me again.

“We can go in if you’d like. One more stop on the tour tonight wouldn’t kill you.”

Or it could. We are in Deep Space Nine, Jadzia…

I brought my eyes back into focus and scanned the Cardassian tailor shop again. Through the window I could clearly see mannequins on display dressed in Cardassian military-style jackets, altered Starfleet uniforms, and other finished clothing like fine suits and Bajoran dresses.

While taking in the shop, I noticed a Cardassian standing near the fabric wall running his hands across the rich-colored alien textiles.

He was the first Cardassian I had seen on the station since arriving earlier this afternoon.

Jadzia had gotten a little tipsy off her bloodwine earlier, and we had a brief conversation about the owner of the shop.

Rumor around the station was that Garak had been exiled from Cardassia because of a shuttle incident involving suspected dissidents. Somehow the operation went wrong and he destroyed the shuttle, causing major political fallout.

Cardassian exile is essentially a life sentence of disgrace.

No one had any real proof, she told me. Just suspicion. Either way, Garak was the only Cardassian living on Deep Space Nine—aside from Darak, who would be leaving in two days. Exiled from Cardassia, he had nowhere else to go.

Since the Cardassian I saw inside appeared to be a customer examining the fabrics, I had a strong feeling this was my new science officer.

I was now intrigued.

“I guess I could use a quick collar pip alignment.”

Jadzia smiled and moved toward the door.

She tapped the small panel beside it and the doors slid open, alerting the Cardassian browsing the fabrics.

Another Cardassian immediately stepped out from behind a rack of cloth that partially concealed a back room. His posture was perfectly straight, his eyes bright with curiosity.

“Ah… a Starfleet captain in my humble establishment. What an unexpected pleasure.”

He offered a small, polite bow.

“Garak… a simple tailor.”

“Hello, Garak.”

I offered my hand.

“I’m Captain A. Kelly.”

Garak glanced briefly at the offered hand before taking it lightly.

“Ah… the human greeting ritual. I must admit, I find it rather charming.”

I glanced over at the other Cardassian in the shop. I could feel him analyzing me from head to toe.

He definitely was my new science officer.

I turned back to Garak.

“Jadzia here was giving me a tour of the station when I noticed your shop. I thought I might take care of a small uniform adjustment while I was here.”

“I would be delighted to assist you, Captain. I must confess, Starfleet uniforms are among my favorite challenges.”

He led us into the consultation area where two seats were available.

“Good to see you again, Lieutenant,” Garak said as Jadzia passed him and sat beside me.

Garak picked up a padd from the small table in front of us where various fabric samples had been carefully arranged.

I noticed the other Cardassian was still studying me.

“Just a moment, ladies.”

Garak walked toward the tailoring workbench in the back of the shop — a large Cardassian-style cutting table covered with precision tools and half-finished garments.

He grabbed a measuring device and turned back toward us, then paused.

Without turning around he spoke, sounding mildly annoyed.

“Captain, may I introduce Lieutenant Commander Darak… a distant cousin of mine. We were just discussing the fascinating differences between Cardassian and Federation textile engineering before you arrived.”

Were they really?

Let’s not forget Garak had been behind a curtain in a private room before we walked in.

I’m not worried about being assigned a Cardassian science officer. But after hearing what Jadzia had just told me, that didn’t mean I had to trust them immediately.

Especially Garak.

Possibly.

Garak returned toward us with the measuring device in hand and cousin Darak following behind.

He gestured for me to step onto the small podium where he measured his clients.

Jadzia remained seated in the consultation area, watching us with her legs crossed and a wide smile on her face.

I was about to introduce myself to Darak when suddenly Garak was right in front of me measuring my collar.

“Captain. You appear to be in need of a good tailoring… or perhaps conversation.”

Darak interrupted with a slight bow.

“That conversation is with me, Garak.”

Garak scoffed quietly and continued adjusting my collar.

“Captain Kelly, it is a pleasure to meet you. As my dear cousin mentioned, I am Lieutenant Commander Darak. I will be joining you aboard the USS Cairo as your science officer.”

“I am well aware of the assignments, Lieutenant.”

Cardassians should be used to straightforward tones.

Darak didn’t seem phased.

“Lieutenant Commander Darak, formerly of Cardassia Prime,” he said calmly. “I assure you, Captain, I have no remaining interest in imperial ambitions.”

“Imperial ambitions?”

Garak had somehow retrieved another tool without me noticing. He began adjusting the alignment of my pips with a small laser.

Only mildly concerning.

“Darak was once one of Cardassia Prime’s most outstanding citizens,” Garak said casually.

“Oh, dear cousin… remind me again why you are here on Deep Space Nine preparing to go gallivanting into the Gamma Quadrant on a Starfleet mission?”

It was very unusual to have a Cardassian science officer.

I knew he wasn’t part of Starfleet originally, but I was curious how he ended up here.

Wasn’t this mission a Red Directive?

Very bold of a supposed former member of the Obsidian Order to casually mention knowing details about it in front of a Starfleet captain.

The questions in my mind continued to grow.

“Captain, since I will be serving as your science officer, I will be direct with you,” Darak said.

I saw Garak roll his eyes in my peripheral vision.

“I was formerly associated with the Obsidian Order’s analytical division. After the withdrawal from Bajor, I renounced all intelligence operations and sought asylum within the Federation. Eventually I entered Starfleet service under special commission.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Intelligence operations?”

“We don’t need to discuss specifics, Captain. Only know that I am fully dedicated to this mission.”

“As long as you don’t renounce your position aboard the USS Cairo, then I should have no concerns. Should I, Lieutenant?”

“No, sir.”

Darak glanced briefly toward Garak.

“My cousin chose exile. I chose redemption.”

Garak laughed softly as he finished aligning my pips.

“I barely know this distant cousin, Captain. I am, after all, merely a simple tailor.”

He stepped aside.

“There… how does that look?”

I checked the reflection in the mirror.

“Fine work, Garak. I appreciate the time.”

I turned toward Darak.

“I will see you tomorrow morning, Lieutenant.”

I bowed slightly and headed toward the door, almost forgetting Jadzia was still with me.

She must have sensed the tension because before I knew it she was already following me out.

Even though Garak’s shop had smelled pleasantly of fresh fabric and steam-pressed cloth, I couldn’t get back onto the musty Promenade corridor fast enough.

That entire conversation had given me terrible anxiety.

I had read the assignments when Starfleet first contacted me, but nothing really hit me until I met some of my new bridge crew.

Granted, this was my first Red Directive mission.

But this was definitely not how I expected it to begin.

Jadzia noticed that I had stopped about ten meters away from the shop and was taking slow, controlled breaths.

One of my many techniques for managing anxiety.

The moment I realized she noticed, I straightened up and yawned.

“That was enough entertainment for one night.”

It’s not exactly a trait people admire in a Starfleet captain.

Jadzia glanced back toward the shop.

“Did you notice that Darak didn’t leave? If Garak takes interest in someone, it’s never accidental.”

More questions added to my pile.

What had been behind that curtain?

And what exactly did Garak want from Darak?

It certainly didn’t seem like a friendly family reunion.

Jadzia guided me back along the Promenade to a turbolift alcove.

“I’ll show you to your quarters so you can get a good night’s rest before your mission briefing tomorrow morning, Captain.”

Finally.

Not that I expected much sleep tonight with everything happening around me, but the thought of a bed was still better than more touring.

We stepped into the turbolift.

“Computer, Habitat Ring.”

The doors closed and the noise of the Promenade faded as the lift carried us upward.

When the doors opened again the station felt entirely different.

Quieter.

Almost peaceful.

Jadzia led me down the corridor past a few Bajoran families and off-duty crew members.

The softer residential lighting helped me relax.

We didn’t walk far before she stopped.

“Here’s your home for the next two nights.”

“I guess so.”

“Hope it meets your expectations.”

“Thank you for the tour, Lieutenant.”

“My pleasure. Good night, Captain.”

I tapped the panel beside the door and it slid open.

Inside, I scanned the room until I found the bed.

“Computer, lights fifty percent.”

Computer: “Acknowledged.”

I collapsed onto the bed and stared out the large viewport into open space.

Normally that view would feel familiar.

Comforting, even.

But tonight, after seeing the beauty of the wormhole…

It felt different.

And now it was time to process everything that had happened this evening.