So, "All We Need of Hell" is coming along nicely...
Garak+O'Brien+dead!Bashir is turning out to be an absolute hoot to write, because between them the Cardie and the Chief have enough regret, angst and guilt to sink the Titanic. And putting them in a situation where they both know it and have no one to snipe at but each other just makes it even better.
A new ~800 word excerpt under the cut, PG-13, from when Garak gets into the enemy fortress and O'Brien tracks him down in a deserted corridor, having already found two dead victims of Garak's vendetta along the way. In the meantime, for those of you (and I'm pretty sure you're out there) who ship B/O'B... what would you want to see/consider essential in a B/O'B fic? (Guilt, obviously, and lots of internal conflict for O'Brien, because OMG HE'S A MARRIED MAN, YO... and for Bashir, plenty of shock once he realizes what's going on). And is there anything in particular you want O'Brien and Garak to get down to in the midst of the extended catfight that is their trip up the mountain?
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Garak raised his chin, his eyes widening and his teeth thinly bared; O'Brien could clearly visualize the flaring throat-scales, long since evolved away, that should have accompanied such a primal threat display. An instant later the point of Garak's knife was indenting the skin over his liver.
"If I didn't need your services," the Cardassian said in a low and venomous voice, "you'd be bleeding out right now."
He wasn't particularly impressed. "To do what? Get Julian's body back to the station? You said it yourself: he's dead. Whatever happens to him doesn't matter anymore, isn't that right?"
Garak actually hissed. "You miserable -" With an effort he controlled himself. "Of course you don't understand. I should have expected no better of you, Human."
"He was Human too!"
"He was an exceptional example of his species, whereas you, Chief, are typical in every respect: mentally limited, hopelessly indoctrinated and incurably xenophobic."
O'Brien barked a harsh laugh. "That's rich, coming from a Cardie!"
"I don't have time for this." The knife was withdrawn and Garak took a step back, lowering his chin and fixing O'Brien with a flat reptilian glare. "Stay out of my way. If you know what's good for you, you'll get out of here before they discover the first corpse."
He turned on his heel and set off down the corridor with a stalking stride that somehow managed to make almost no noise at all. Cursing mentally, O'Brien watched him go, knowing that if he followed immediately he might well end up with a blade in his guts after all. Garak's mind was burning red-hot with utterly focussed purpose: from a Human point of view he was insane, and on a hair trigger when it came to reacting violently to anything that crossed his path. O'Brien had no desire to end up as another body on his orbital path of destruction.
Still, he couldn't just let him walk away and murder anyone he came across. The best strategy was to try to find someone awake in this fortress and warn them that an assassin was in their midst and out for blood: it might end up getting O'Brien killed, but out of respect for Julian's memory and what Julian would have wanted he could do no less. There was even a chance, however faint, that they wouldn't kill Garak, that they'd recognize when a man was out of his head with grief and fury and not responsible for…
But Garak was responsible for his actions. He was on fire with homicidal rage, yes, but there was a cold precision to his mental processes that was frankly terrifying. This was what he'd been trained for - the hunt, the attack, the kill - and it was work he knew he was very good at. As he headed away down the corridor in the opposite direction O'Brien could feel the pulse of the Cardassian's thoughts, fiercely single-minded yet clear: << I will find them, and they will be made to pay. That is all that matters. It is all that will ever matter. >> And somewhere below, somewhere deeper and less armored, an occasional howl of barely restrained anguish and bereavement: <<(Oh my love, lost, forever lost!)>>, quickly repressed in service to the mission he had set himself to carry out.
[[You bloody idiot!]] O'Brien thought, projecting strongly. [[I can't let you do it. Even if the bastards deserve it for what they did to him, even if I wish them an eternity in Hell…]]
<< You can try,>> Garak snarled back. << But I am Hell, and tonight I'll visit them all.>> A more complex blend of emotions swirled between them for an instant, and O'Brien realized with a little shock that Garak actively did not want him to die. << Surprised? You shouldn't be. You have to keep his memory alive: that's your task now, today and for the rest of your life, so run along like a good little soldier and carry it out, won't you? >>
[[I'm -]] It struck him that to Cardassians to be forgotten, to have no loved ones to mourn you, was a fate even worse than death itself. Garak was facing that prospect right now, but it was one he had accepted with a kind of grim cheerfulness. Stirred by a previously unknown impulse, O'Brien made an extemporaneous vow: [[Neither of you will be forgotten, Garak. I promise you that.]]
<< To be remembered by a Human… what has my life come to? >> There was a trace of humor there, and for an heartbeat O'Brien thought that he might be coming back from the edge.
A new ~800 word excerpt under the cut, PG-13, from when Garak gets into the enemy fortress and O'Brien tracks him down in a deserted corridor, having already found two dead victims of Garak's vendetta along the way. In the meantime, for those of you (and I'm pretty sure you're out there) who ship B/O'B... what would you want to see/consider essential in a B/O'B fic? (Guilt, obviously, and lots of internal conflict for O'Brien, because OMG HE'S A MARRIED MAN, YO... and for Bashir, plenty of shock once he realizes what's going on). And is there anything in particular you want O'Brien and Garak to get down to in the midst of the extended catfight that is their trip up the mountain?
*****************
Garak raised his chin, his eyes widening and his teeth thinly bared; O'Brien could clearly visualize the flaring throat-scales, long since evolved away, that should have accompanied such a primal threat display. An instant later the point of Garak's knife was indenting the skin over his liver.
"If I didn't need your services," the Cardassian said in a low and venomous voice, "you'd be bleeding out right now."
He wasn't particularly impressed. "To do what? Get Julian's body back to the station? You said it yourself: he's dead. Whatever happens to him doesn't matter anymore, isn't that right?"
Garak actually hissed. "You miserable -" With an effort he controlled himself. "Of course you don't understand. I should have expected no better of you, Human."
"He was Human too!"
"He was an exceptional example of his species, whereas you, Chief, are typical in every respect: mentally limited, hopelessly indoctrinated and incurably xenophobic."
O'Brien barked a harsh laugh. "That's rich, coming from a Cardie!"
"I don't have time for this." The knife was withdrawn and Garak took a step back, lowering his chin and fixing O'Brien with a flat reptilian glare. "Stay out of my way. If you know what's good for you, you'll get out of here before they discover the first corpse."
He turned on his heel and set off down the corridor with a stalking stride that somehow managed to make almost no noise at all. Cursing mentally, O'Brien watched him go, knowing that if he followed immediately he might well end up with a blade in his guts after all. Garak's mind was burning red-hot with utterly focussed purpose: from a Human point of view he was insane, and on a hair trigger when it came to reacting violently to anything that crossed his path. O'Brien had no desire to end up as another body on his orbital path of destruction.
Still, he couldn't just let him walk away and murder anyone he came across. The best strategy was to try to find someone awake in this fortress and warn them that an assassin was in their midst and out for blood: it might end up getting O'Brien killed, but out of respect for Julian's memory and what Julian would have wanted he could do no less. There was even a chance, however faint, that they wouldn't kill Garak, that they'd recognize when a man was out of his head with grief and fury and not responsible for…
But Garak was responsible for his actions. He was on fire with homicidal rage, yes, but there was a cold precision to his mental processes that was frankly terrifying. This was what he'd been trained for - the hunt, the attack, the kill - and it was work he knew he was very good at. As he headed away down the corridor in the opposite direction O'Brien could feel the pulse of the Cardassian's thoughts, fiercely single-minded yet clear: << I will find them, and they will be made to pay. That is all that matters. It is all that will ever matter. >> And somewhere below, somewhere deeper and less armored, an occasional howl of barely restrained anguish and bereavement: <<(Oh my love, lost, forever lost!)>>, quickly repressed in service to the mission he had set himself to carry out.
[[You bloody idiot!]] O'Brien thought, projecting strongly. [[I can't let you do it. Even if the bastards deserve it for what they did to him, even if I wish them an eternity in Hell…]]
<< You can try,>> Garak snarled back. << But I am Hell, and tonight I'll visit them all.>> A more complex blend of emotions swirled between them for an instant, and O'Brien realized with a little shock that Garak actively did not want him to die. << Surprised? You shouldn't be. You have to keep his memory alive: that's your task now, today and for the rest of your life, so run along like a good little soldier and carry it out, won't you? >>
[[I'm -]] It struck him that to Cardassians to be forgotten, to have no loved ones to mourn you, was a fate even worse than death itself. Garak was facing that prospect right now, but it was one he had accepted with a kind of grim cheerfulness. Stirred by a previously unknown impulse, O'Brien made an extemporaneous vow: [[Neither of you will be forgotten, Garak. I promise you that.]]
<< To be remembered by a Human… what has my life come to? >> There was a trace of humor there, and for an heartbeat O'Brien thought that he might be coming back from the edge.