All language subtitles for Star.Trek.Deep.Space.Nine.S02E22.UHQ.NTSC.DVDRip.DD5.1.x264-Hi10P-LiGHTSPEED

What a waste of a morning.

That Galipotan freighter
that was scheduled

to be here at 0700
still hasn't arrived.

Oh, well, that's the price for
doing business with a culture

that refuses to even acknowledge
the concept of time.

Though I must say,
they make magnificent sweaters.

I hope I'm not
boring you, Doctor.

Oh, not at all.

No, I-I was just
up late last night.

Entertaining one
of your lady friends?

Unfortunately not.

No, I was reading the last few
chapters of The Never-ending Sacrifice.

Isn't it superb?

Without a doubt,

the finest Cardassian
novel ever written.

I'll take your word for it.

So, you didn't enjoy it?

Well, I-I thought
it was interesting.

Maybe a little dull in parts.

Oh, wonderful!

At this rate, we'll be done
eating lunch just in time for dinner.

Well, there's always Quark's.

True, but I'm really
not in the mood

for noisy, crowded
and vulgar today.

I suppose the Klingon restaurant
is out of the question.

I can't believe that I'm having
lunch with a man who thinks

The Never-ending Sacrifice
is dull.

I just thought the story got a
little redundant after a while.

I mean, the author's
supposed to be chronicling

seven generations
of a single family,

but he tells the same story
over and over again.

All of his characters
lead selfless lives

of duty to the state,
grow old and die.

Then, the next generation comes
along and does it all over again.

But that's exactly the point,
Doctor.

The repetitive epic is the most
elegant form in Cardassian literature,

and The Never-ending Sacrifice
is its greatest achievement.

But none of his characters
ever really come alive.

And there's more to life
than duty to the state.

A Federation viewpoint
if ever I heard one.

This is ridiculous. Can't you
just move to the front of the line?

Tell them it's a medical
emergency or something.

We'll be there in a minute.

Look, maybe if you lent me
another book by a different writer...

It would only be
a waste of time.

When it comes to art,
you're obviously a prisoner

of Federation dogma
and human prejudice.

I'm sorry you feel that way.

I was just trying...

- Are you all right?
- I'm fine.

You don't look fine.

Your skin is clammy
and your pupils have contracted.

I assure you,
I'm in perfect health.

Now you were asking
about other Cardassian books.

Something maybe
a little more access...

Perfect health.

Then Cardassian standards
must be a little lower than mine.

Come on.

Doctor, what do you
think you're doing?

I'm taking you to the Infirmary.

That won't be necessary.

Well, maybe not, but humor me.

Frankly, Doctor...

I'm a little tired
of humoring you.

Now, there's nothing
wrong with me

that a little peace and
privacy wouldn't cure.

Now, if you'll excuse me

I seem to have lost my appetite.

What was that all about?

I have no idea.

Can you tell
what's wrong with it?

In my expert medical opinion,
I'd say it's... sick.

I know that, but why is it sick?

I'm a doctor, not a botanist.

Did you ask Professor O'Brien?

Keiko's at a hydroponics
conference on Rigel IV.

She won't be back for a week.

And none of your past hosts have
had any experience with plants?

Daxes have never
been much on gardening.

Tobin was the only one
who ever tried his hand at it,

but he had even less luck with
plants than he did with women.

Do you even know
where it's from?

I picked it up on Ledonia III.

May I?

Be my guest.

Oh, that explains it.

Ledonian soil contains
a benevolent mycorizal fungus

that helps the native plants
retain water.

The fungus in this potting soil
has almost completely died out.

But if we can salvage
what's left,

and cultivate a new batch in
the lab, that should do the trick.

Keiko would be proud of you.

It's all there on the screen.

I only wish my humanoid patients
were as easy to treat.

Did Chief O'Brien
dislocate his shoulder again?

No, it's Garak.

Today at lunch,
he seemed as though

he was going to have
some kind of seizure.

He was having trouble breathing

and he appeared to be
in a great deal of pain.

But when I tried to get him
to come to the Infirmary,

he outright refused.

Maybe he just doesn't like
going to see the doctor.

Ah, that's not it.

It's that damned Cardassian
evasiveness of his.

I mean, keeping me guessing
about his past is one thing,

but when it comes to
his health, I don't know.

Why can't he just tell me
what's going on?

It sounds like you're
taking this personally.

I suppose I am.

It's just that Garak and I have
been having lunch together

once a week
for more than a year now.

You'd think he'd come
to trust me a little.

Why should he?

It's not like the two of you
are really friends.

Well, no, of course not.

I suppose when it comes right
down to it, I don't trust him either.

I mean, for all I know,
the man is a Cardassian spy.

- Exactly.
- Exactly.

And if he doesn't want my help
that's his prerogative.

So, I take it, we
understand each other.

Garak, how long have you
been living on this station?

Too long.

And in all that time,
have I ever let you down?

I have never done business
with you until now.

Which is why this deal
is so important to me.

I want our business relationship
to get off on the right foot.

Now relax.

- You'll get your merchandise.
- Soon, Quark.

I can't wait much longer.

You and Garak
going into business?

I couldn't help overhearing
your conversation.

Oh, that.
I'm helping Garak

get a new sizing scanner
for his shop.

A sizing scanner.

Not just any sizing scanner.

The best,
straight from Merak II.

Calibrated to be accurate
down to the micrometer

and I might add,
at a very reasonable price.

Really? I thought Garak
sounded a bit upset.

Upset? Garak?

Oh, I hadn't noticed.

Now, is there anything
I can do for you, hmm?

A little Saurian brandy to go,

or maybe a late-night
session in a holosuite?

No, thank you.

I think I'll call it a night.

Suit yourself.

There, how does that feel?

Much better.

Well, try not to yell at any
more admirals for a while.

I wasn't yelling.

I was just expressing
my feelings, loudly.

- Chief.
- Commander.

You wanted to see me?

Ah, yes.

I was hoping
you could give me a hand.

I've been trying to access
the old Cardassian medical files,

but I haven't been
having much luck.

I'm not surprised.

The Cardassians did a general
systems sweep before they pulled out.

The medical files would have been
deleted along with everything else.

Is there any way
to recover them?

Maybe.

These subroutines don't
look anywhere near as bad

as the engineering files did.

I might be able
to reconstruct the data

by micro-scanning
the purge trace.

Well, how long will that take?

Mmm. Two, maybe
three weeks.

Ah. Well, that
settles that.

Thank you anyway, Chief.

I'm sorry I couldn't
be of any more help.

Quark to Bashir.

This is Bashir.

Doctor, I need you
in my bar right away.

Oh, come on, Garak.

Don't you think
you've had enough?

On the contrary.

Anyone who talks about the
numbing effects of your liquor

is severely overstating
the case, huh?

What's all this?

He came in complaining
about a headache.

The next thing I knew, he
drank up half my stock of kanar.

Oh, Doctor,
what a pleasant surprise.

I apologize
for my outburst at lunch,

but I promise
I'll make it up to you.

Please, join me.

I think I will.
May I?

By all means.

What are you doing?!

I think it's
a little noisy in here.

Um, I'd prefer to drink
somewhere quiet.

Why, an excellent idea.

We'll go to my quarters.

Whatever you want.

But, first, I must make
a stop at the Infirmary.

The Infirmary?

Oh, my dear Doctor.

What kind of fool
do you take me for?

Now, give me back my bottle.

Give me my bottle back.

I will...
in the Infirmary.

I'm not going to the Infirmary and I
refuse to play this ridiculous game.

Now, give me...

Give...

Make it stop, make it stop.

Bashir to Ops.
Medical emergency.

Two to beam to the Infirmary.

Energize.

Some kind of implant?

- Apparently.
- What's it for?

Well, I was hoping
you could tell me.

After working for
the Cardassians for five years

I'd guess you'd know them
as well as anyone.

Maybe so, but I never bothered
to look inside their skulls.

No, I don't suppose you did.

Do you think this is the
cause of Garak's condition?

It's possible. I mean,
whatever this thing is,

it's situated
in his postcentral gyrus

and has filaments that connect it
to his entire central nervous system.

Maybe it's some kind
of punishment device --

a parting gift from
the Cardassian government.

I thought of that, but based
on the amount of scarring

in the surrounding tissue, this
implant's been in there for years.

And as far as I can tell, Garak's
only been in pain for the past few days.

Interesting.

I wish I had an answer
for you, Doctor.

Well, I was hoping
you could help me get one.

I think Quark knows
what this thing is.

Now, what makes you say that?

I overheard them talking
the other night.

Garak was negotiating to buy
some merchandise from Quark.

He seemed quite desperate.

I tried to ask Quark
what it was about, but...

No need to explain, Doctor.

The direct approach seldom
works with people like him.

But this could answer
some of my own questions.

Quark has sent several coded
messages to Cardassia Prime

in the past few days.

Really?

Mmm. I routinely monitor

all of Quark's
subspace communications.

Is that legal?

It's in the best interest
of station security.

Doctor, do you want to know
what Quark knows or not?

I see your point.

Then meet me in Security
at 0200 hours.

Quark always makes
his clandestine calls

after the bar closes.

I wouldn't miss it.

Quark, you parasite.

It's been too long.

Is Hartla still working for you?

The dabo tables wouldn't
be the same without her.

Oh, what I wouldn't
give to see her again.

I'm sure she misses you, too.

I'll bet she does.

Yeah.

She would have bankrupted me

if the occupation would
have lasted much longer.

But I'm sure you didn't
contact me just to reminisce.

What can I do for you?

How would you like to earn
a little extra latinum?

Enough to buy yourself
a promotion?

You have my undivided attention.

I need a piece
of Cardassian bio-technology

and the schematics relating
to its installation.

Hmm, bio-technology, huh?

Why, that shouldn't be
too difficult.

What is it?

You know, I never ask
those kinds of questions,

but I've got
the requisition code number.

Well, give it to me.
I'll look for it.

I knew I could count on you.
Here it is.

I hope you don't have one of these
little bugs hidden in my quarters.

Should I?

Transmission complete.

Hold on.
This won't take long.

Take your time.

Quark, you idiot!

Is something wrong?

Is something wrong?!

I'm ruined!

My career is over!

What did I do?!

You and your damned
requisition code.

It's for classified
bio-technology, Quark.

Even the cursed number
is classified.

Where did you get it?!

No, don't tell me!

I don't want to know.

If I'm lucky, I can still get
through this with my skin intact.

Maybe they won't trace
the request back to me.

Who won't?

The Obsidian Order.

Nice talking to you, Boheeka.

We'll have to do it
again sometime.

The Obsidian Order.

That certainly
complicates things.

Who are they?

They're the ever-vigilant
eyes and ears

of the Cardassian Empire.

It is said that
a Cardassian citizen

cannot sit down to a meal

without each dish
being duly noted

and recorded by the Order.

What happens if
you eat something

that doesn't meet
with their approval?

People have been known
to disappear for less.

Whether you agree with
their goals or not,

you can't help but
admire their... efficiency.

Even the Romulan Tal Shiar
can't compete with them

when it comes to intelligence
gathering and covert operations.

What has all this
to do with Garak?

I wish I knew.

Do you think the Order

put that implant
inside Garak's head?

I have a better question.

If the implant
is a punishment device,

then why is Garak trying
to get his hands on another one?

He did asked for specifications.

Maybe he's trying to find
some way of removing it.

Well, either way, I'd like to have
a talk with him when he wakes up.

You'll have to get in line.

Thank you, Constable.

Computer, report on the status
of patient Garak.

Patient Garak
is no longer in the Infirmary.

What?

When did he leave?

Patient checked out
at 0320 hours.

Garak, are you in there?

Computer, open the door

to Chamber 901,
Habitat Level H-3.

Emergency medical override,
Bashir 1-Alpha.

Ah, Doctor,
what a pleasant surprise.

I'm sorry, I must have
missed the door chime.

What the hell do you
think you're doing?!

Triptacederine?

How much of this did you take?

A mere 30cc's --
not nearly enough, I'm afraid.

30cc's would anesthetize
an Algorian mammoth.

Oh, we Cardassians must
be made of sterner stuff.

- I barely feel it.
- Listen to me, Garak.

I've had just about enough
of your nonsense.

Now you're coming back
to the Infirmary with me.

Oh, I don't think so.

Believe me when I tell you
there's nothing you can do for me.

Oh, and Quark can, is that it?

I thought I was
supposed to be the spy.

Quark's not coming, Garak.

How do you know?

I heard him talking
to his Cardassian contact.

He couldn't get
the item you requested.

Really?

That's most distressing,

but I suppose
not all that surprising.

Ah, well,
maybe it's for the best.

My hypospray, if you please.

Another dose of triptacederine
might kill you.

Thank you for your concern,
Doctor,

but I'd rather
have the hypospray.

I'm not going to let you
commit suicide.

- I'm here to help you.
- I doubt you can!

I think you'll find
that I'm experiencing

some slight deterioration
of my cranial nerve cluster.

It's not so slight, I'm afraid.

We've got to get you
to the Infirmary.

My dear Doctor,

I have no intention
of putting myself on display

for the amusement of the Bajoran
inhabitants of this station.

It's not your pride
I'm worried about.

It's that implant you're carrying
around inside your head.

You know about that, do you?

It's some sort of
punishment device, isn't it?

Punishment device?

Well, I suppose, in a way,
that's what it's become.

If it wasn't put there to
punish you, then what's it for?

Garak! I need to know
what we're up against.

If you tell me what it's for,

maybe I could find
some way to remove it.

It's hopeless, Doctor.

Believe me, it can't be removed.

- How do you know?
- That's the whole point.

If it could be easily removed,
it would be useless.

You see, on Cardassia,

I was entrusted
with certain information --

information that needed
to be kept safe

regardless of the situation.

My implant was given to me
by Enabran Tain himself --

the head of the Obsidian Order.

If I was ever tortured,

it was designed to stimulate
the pleasure centers of my brain

to trigger the production

of vast amounts
of natural endorphins.

I do hope you appreciate
the irony, Doctor.

The whole purpose of the implant
was to make me immune to pain.

What caused it to malfunction?

It was never meant
for continuous use.

Continuous use.
What do you mean?

Living on this station
is torture for me, Doctor.

The temperature
is always too cold.

The lights always too bright.

Every Bajoran on the station

looks at me
with loathing and contempt.

So, one day, I decided
I couldn't live with it anymore,

and I took the pain away.

You activated the implant.

I created a device
which allowed me

to trigger the implant
whenever I wanted it.

At first, I only used it
a few minutes a day,

but then I began relying
on it more and more,

until, finally,
I just turned it on

and never shut it off.

- How long has it been on?
- Two years.

And now the implant
is breaking down.

That's correct.

So, why don't you just shut
the damn thing off?

It's too late now.

My body has become
completely dependent

on the higher endorphin levels
generated by the implant.

So, that's it then.

You're just going to give up
and let them win.

"Them," Doctor?

The Central Command,
the Obsidian Order --

whoever it is who
exiled you here.

You're just going to roll over
and die, let them destroy you,

give up any hope of ever
seeing Cardassia again.

Doctor, did anyone ever tell you
that you are an infuriating pest?

Chief O'Brien, all the time,

and I don't pay any
attention to him, either.

Has it ever occurred to you

that I might be getting
exactly what I deserve?

No one deserves this.

Oh, please, Doctor,
I'm suffering enough

without having to listen to
your smug Federation sympathy.

Do you think that, because
we have lunch together

once a week, you know me?

You couldn't even begin
to fathom what I'm capable of.

I'm a doctor.
You're my patient.

That's all I need to know.

Wrong again.

You need to know
who you're trying to save.

During the occupation,

I was a Gul in the Cardassian
mechanized infantry.

We were stationed just
outside the Bajoran capital.

Shortly before the withdrawal,

a handful of Bajoran prisoners
escaped from my custody.

My aide, a man named Elim,

tracked them
to a Cardassian shuttle

about to depart for Terok Nor.

Elim got aboard, but the Captain
refused to let him search the ship

because he claimed he was under
strict orders from Gul Dukat

to depart immediately.

So, I had the shuttle destroyed,

killing the escapees, Elim,
and 97 Cardassian civilians.

You can't be serious.

I followed my orders.

None of those prisoners
escaped off of Bajor alive.

Unfortunately, as it turned out,

one of the passengers
on the shuttle was the daughter

of a prominent
military official.

I was stripped of
my rank and commission,

and exiled from Cardassia.

So, now you know, Doctor.

I hope... I haven't shattered
too many of your illusions.

Listen to me, Garak.

Right now, I'm not concerned
with what you did in the past.

I'm simply not going to walk
out of here and let you die.

We need to turn that implant off

and whatever withdrawal symptoms

or side effects
you may experience,

I promise I'll help
you through them.

I need to know where
that triggering device is.

Where is it?

The desk, second drawer.

Well, that will be all for now.

If you need to reach me, I'll be
here for at least the next 26 hours.

Computer, I'm reading
an ongoing erosion

of tissue in the patient's
lymphatic system. Explain.

Unable to determine a cause

due to insufficient data
on Cardassian physiology.

All right.
Continue to monitor the status

of the patient's
cranial implant.

Inform me if it shows
any sign of reactivation.

Yes?

Doctor.

I was hoping I could ask
Garak some questions.

He's asleep.

He has been ever since
I turned off his implant.

Now, come on,
we can talk outside.

Doctor, I need to talk to him
as soon as possible.

I have four cases left
in my homicide files

which I'm almost certain were
committed by the Obsidian Order.

If Garak was a member,

he may be able
to shed some light on them.

I'm afraid your questions
will have to wait.

How long?

I don't know yet.

Constable, Garak's body
has undergone a severe shock.

I don't know when he'll recover.

I'm not even sure
if he'll recover.

In that case,
I want to talk to him now.

- Wake him up.
- I'll do no such thing.

Doctor, these are murder cases,
and Garak may be a suspect.

That may be so,
but he's still my patient,

and I'll not have him disturbed.

So, until further notice,
his quarters are off limits

to everyone except emergency
medical personnel.

So, if you'll excuse me,
I have a patient to attend to.

- Garak?
- Leave me alone.

I don't think that would be
a good idea right now.

Your blood chemistry
is severely imbalanced.

- You need to rest.
- Don't touch me.

Just calm down.

I don't want to
calm down, Doctor.

I've been calm long enough.

Look at this place.

It's pathetic.

To think that this is what
my life has been reduced to.

This sterile shell,
this... prison.

Take it easy, Garak.

Look, you're obviously
experiencing some side effects

from the deactivation
of the implant.

Ridiculous.

I feel more clearheaded than
I have in the past two years.

Two years -- what a waste
these past two years have been.

There was a time, Doctor.

Oh! There was a time
when I was a power.

The protégé of
Enabran Tain himself.

Do you have any idea
what that means?

I'm afraid I don't.

No, you don't, do you?

You don't know much of anything.

Tain was the Obsidian Order.

Not even the Central Command
dared challenge him,

and I was his right hand.

My future was limitless

until I threw it away.

You mean when you had
that shuttle shot down

to stop those prisoners
from escaping?

Stopped them. I only wish
that I had stopped them.

You didn't?

No, Doctor, my disgrace
is worse than that.

Unimaginably worse.

What could you have
possibly done worse than that?

I let them go.

It was the eve of the
Cardassian withdrawal.

Elim and I were
interrogating five Bajorans.

They were children, Doctor!

None of them were older
than 14 years old.

They knew nothing.

They lived in bombed-out rooms,

scrounged for food
on the streets.

They were filthy and they stank.

The room was freezing cold,
the air was like ice,

and suddenly the whole exercise
seemed utterly meaningless.

All I wanted was a hot bath,

and a good meal.

And so I let them go.

I gave them whatever latinum
I had in my pockets,

and opened the door

and flung them back
into the streets.

Elim couldn't believe his eyes.

He looked at me
as if I were insane.

You took pity on those children.

There's nothing wrong with that.

No! I was a fool!

I should have completed
my interrogation,

and turned them over
to the troops for execution,

but because I was chilly
and my stomach was growling,

I failed in my duty,

and destroyed everything
I had worked for.

And so they exiled you.

That's right.

And left me to live out my days
with nothing to look forward to

but having lunch with you.

Well, I'm sorry
you feel that way.

I thought
you enjoyed my company.

Oh, I did,
and that's the worst part.

I can't believe that I actually
enjoyed eating mediocre food

and staring into your
smug, sanctimonious face.

I hate this place,
and I hate you.

Okay, Garak,
that's your prerogative.

Now, I really think
you should lie down.

Get away from me!

Garak...

Garak, stop this.

I don't want to hurt you.

Bashir to Infirmary.

I need an emergency medical team
in Garak's quarters now.

Administer another
20cc's of hyperzine.

- He's not responding.
- Give it a second.

Begin cardiostimulation.

His heartbeat is stabilizing.

But his lymphatic system is
still critical. I don't understand it.

I shut down the implant. It can't
be affecting his blood chemistry.

Yet toxins are still accumulating
in his lymphatic tissues.

Computer, display analysis
of all biochemical samples

taken from the patient
in the past 39 hours.

Display them
by chemical composition.

Isolate and display
sample number... 17.

Bring up sample 23.

Sample 27.

Sample 32.

Sample 35.

Sample 40.
Stop.

Bring back sample 35.

Superimpose the molecular
structure of this leukocyte

with an analogous sample
taken from yesterday.

That's it.

The molecular structure of
Garak's leukocytes has been altered.

That must be what's causing the
accumulation of toxins in his system.

Can we synthesize
Cardassian leukocytes?

Probably, but that
could take weeks,

and we don't have
that much time.

We have three
or four days at most.

If we turned
the implant back on,

we might be able to keep
him alive another week or two.

- No.
- What?

I won't allow it.

I never want that thing
turned on again.

I understand how you feel,

but I'm not sure what
else I can do for you.

Oh, you've done enough, Doctor,
more than I deserve.

There's something
you have to know.

What's that?

The truth.

I've about given up on learning
the truth from you, Garak.

Oh, don't give up
on me now, Doctor.

Patience has its rewards.

Now listen carefully.

Elim wasn't my aide.

He was... my friend.

We grew up together.

We were closer than brothers.

For some reason, Enabran Tain
took a liking to us.

Before long, we were both very
powerful men in the Obsidian Order.

They called us
"the sons of Tain."

Even the Guls feared us.

And then there was a scandal.

Someone in the Order was accused

of letting some Bajoran
prisoners escape.

There were constant rumors of
who was going to be implicated.

Fingers were being
pointed at me.

By then, Tain had retired
to the Arawath colony.

He couldn't protect me,
so I panicked.

I did everything in my power

to make sure that Elim
was accused instead of me.

I altered records,
planted evidence,

only to discover
that he'd beaten me to it.

He betrayed you first.

Elim destroyed me.

Before I knew what was going on,
I was sentenced to exile.

And the irony is, I deserved it.

Oh, not for the reasons
they claimed,

but because of what I had tried
to do to Elim, my best friend.

Why are you telling me this,
Garak?

So that you can forgive me.

Why else?

I need to know
that someone forgives me.

I forgive you...

for whatever it is you did.

Thank you, Doctor.

That's most kind.

See that he rests comfortably.

I'll be back within 52 hours.

Where are you going?

To find the man
responsible for this.

Dr. Bashir.

Welcome.

Please, make yourself at home.

Well, Doctor, you've come
all this way to see me.

Aren't you going
to say something?

How did you know my name?

Information's my business.

You're Enabran Tain.

And you're
Dr. Julian Subatoi Bashir.

I hope you weren't greeted too
rudely upon entering Cardassian space.

Not nearly as rudely
as I expected.

Good, I alerted them
that you'd be coming.

The military hates surprises.

Still what you did
was very brave.

I'm impressed.

Can I get you
something to drink?

Tarkalean tea, perhaps?

I always drink
Tarkalean... tea.

A good host knows
the needs of his guests.

One Tarkalean tea, extra sweet.

And a glass of kanar.

So, Lieutenant, how's Garak?

Has his condition
improved at all?

That Cardassian Quark
was talking to, Boheeka,

I suppose he really did have a
reason to fear the Obsidian Order.

Everyone has reason
to fear the Order.

I don't understand it.
Garak told me you were retired.

Oh, I am.
Have been for years.

But I try to keep informed
on current events.

I bet you could tell me all kinds
of things I'd like to know, Doctor.

Oh, I'm sure I could.

I'll tell you anything you
want to know about medicine,

biology, or tennis.

Do you want to hear my opinion
on the latest nillimite alloy racket?

I don't think
that would be necessary.

Have it your way.

Are all the Starfleet
Lieutenants as brash as you are?

I couldn't say.

Though I doubt it.

So do I.

Tell me, Doctor,
how sick is Garak?

He's dying.

And you're trying to save him.

- That's right.
- Strange.

I thought you were his friend.

I suppose I am.

Then you should let him die.

After all, for Garak, a life
in exile is no life at all.

Say what you will,
my job is to keep him alive,

and I need your help.

My help?
What can I do?

The molecular structure of Garak's
leukocytes has been disrupted.

I need to synthesize
replacements

in order to stabilize
his condition.

Unfortunately, my knowledge
of Cardassian biochemistry

is severely limited.

And you think I have access
to that kind of information?

Information is your business.

Besides,
you're the one who ordered him

to put that implant in his head,
aren't you?

I never had to order Garak
to do anything.

That's what made him special.

So you're saying that if you don't
get the information, Garak dies.

That's it.

Well, we can't
allow that, can we?

I'll see to it that all the
necessary data is transferred

to your station's computers.

Thank you.

Oh, don't thank me.

I'm not doing Garak any favors.

He doesn't deserve
a quick death.

On the contrary, I want him
to live a long, miserable life.

I want him to grow old
on that station

surrounded by people
who hate him,

knowing that he'll
never come home again.

What a lovely sentiment.

And it's from the
heart, I assure you.

And now, Doctor, I really
think you should be going.

One last thing.

Make it brief.

Garak mentioned an old friend
of his the other day --

a member of the Obsidian Order.

I was wondering
what happened to him.

Did he give you the
name of this friend?

He said it was Elim.

Elim.

Mind letting me in on the joke?

I can see that Garak
hasn't changed a bit.

Never tell the truth
when a lie will do.

That man has a rare gift
for obfuscation.

Doctor, Elim is
Garak's first name.

Now run along home.

And please, tell Garak
that I miss him.

I'll be sure
to give him the message.

Computer, one to beam up.

Energize.

May I join you?

Garak.

Thank you.

What are you doing up?

You're supposed to be in bed.

Out of the question.

I couldn't stand being cooped up

in that dreadful Infirmary
for another second.

Besides, I feel perfectly fine.

So, how's the I'danian
spice pudding today?

How's the spice pudding?

Is that all you have
to say for yourself?

How can you just sit there

and pretend that the last
ten days never happened?

I, for one, Doctor,
am perfectly satisfied

with the way things turned out,

and I see no need to dwell
on what was, doubtlessly,

a difficult time for both of us.

By the way, I just had the
most interesting conversation

with Constable Odo.

It seems he's
under the impression

that I was a member
of the Obsidian Order.

What did you tell him?

That he was mistaken, of course.

And he believed you?

Well, he said something

about keeping a closer eye on me
in the future.

I told him, "Be my guest.
I have nothing to hide."

Here, I've brought you
something.

What is it?

Meditations on a Crimson Shadow,

by Preloc.

More Cardassian literature.

I think you'll find this one
more to your taste.

It takes place in the future,
during a time when Cardassia

and the Klingon Empire
are at war.

Who wins?

Who do you think?

Never mind.
Don't tell me.

I don't want you
to spoil the ending.

You know, I still have
a lot of questions

to ask you about your past.

I've given you all the answers
I'm capable of.

You've given me answers,
all right.

But they were all different.

What I want to know is, out of
all the stories you've told me,

which ones were true
and which ones weren't?

My dear Doctor,
they're all true.

Even the lies?

Especially the lies.