DS9 shop proprietor, tailor, fashion icon, connoisseur of Cardassian literature, exile, absolutely not a spy.
“After all, what are Tuesdays at a Klingon restaurant without your enthusiasm for gagh and Klingon opera?”
“After all, what are Tuesdays at a Klingon restaurant without your enthusiasm for gagh and Klingon opera?”
“It sounds like an adventure fit for one of your holonovels, but…” His voice trailed off as he swirled the contents of his glass. “Your absence at our lunches would be…notable.” Garak shifted in his seat, though the movement might have >
“It sounds like an adventure fit for one of your holonovels, but…” His voice trailed off as he swirled the contents of his glass. “Your absence at our lunches would be…notable.” Garak shifted in his seat, though the movement might have >
“And you would miss…” Garak’s brows rose as if to pose the question, but as was sometimes the case with the >
“And you would miss…” Garak’s brows rose as if to pose the question, but as was sometimes the case with the >
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Garak took a casual sip of kanar and considered this fallen version of himself. “It is very unimaginative to not vary one’s methods, particularly when it >
Garak took a casual sip of kanar and considered this fallen version of himself. “It is very unimaginative to not vary one’s methods, particularly when it >
“I must >
“I must >
“Ah, yes, I’ve shared how…particular Morn is when procuring >
“Ah, yes, I’ve shared how…particular Morn is when procuring >
A >
A >
“There is an art to poisoning.” The Cardassian peered >
“There is an art to poisoning.” The Cardassian peered >
“Burning >
“Burning >
Nights like this might bring crowds into Quark’s or a small but determined group encircling >
Nights like this might bring crowds into Quark’s or a small but determined group encircling >