Garak’s Cave

[Internment centre]

(It's another match, another opponent for Worf. He snaps the Jem'Hadar's neck and howls in victory.) 


MARTOK: 

Five matches and five victories. 

You truly have the spirit of Kahless within you. 


IKAT'IKA: 

Until tomorrow. 


WORF: 

I'll be waiting!

[Barracks]

BASHIR: 

You've got three broken ribs, 

maybe four. 


WORF: 

They will heal. 


BASHIR: 

Not if you keep fighting, they won't. 

You're lucky you didn't 

puncture a lung. 

A body, even a Klingon body, 

can only take so much punishment. 


WORF: 

I will fight. 


MARTOK: 

It is the only honourable thing to do. 


BASHIR: 

He'll lose. 

And in this condition, 

he might even die. 


WORF: 

Then I will die. 

But I will not yield. 


MARTOK: 

You heard him. 

Bandage his ribs.

[Crawlspace]

(The fibreoptic strands Garak is using as a light source are flickering.) 


GARAK: 

I'm sorry, but that's absolutely unacceptable. 

I'm under enough strain as it is, 

I can't have you quitting on me.

 

Get a hold of yourself, Garak. 

After all, you haven't had one of these attacks in years. 

Yes, this is a tight enclosed space. 

Yes, there's not a lot of room to move. 

But a disciplined mind does not allow itself to be sidetracked 

by niggling psychological disorders like claustrophobia. 

Besides, this isn't like Tzenketh. 

The Walls won't collapse in on you. 

Your friends are near by, 

there's plenty of air, 

so there's nothing to be concerned about. 

Focus on The Job. 

You're the only person who can contact the runabout. 

People are depending on you. 

Ziyal is depending on you.

 

You promised her you'd come back, 

and that young lady 

has had quite enough disappointments in her life 

without you adding to them, 

so control yourself. 

You're stronger than this. 

A disciplined mind —


(And the light goes out)

[Barracks]

MARTOK: 

Seven battles and seven victories! 

What Hero of Legend 

could have done as well? 


WORF: 

Heroes of Legends 

don't ache so much.

 
MARTOK: 

Your Federation friends 

have taught you modesty, 

but this is no time for modesty. 

When we return to 

The Klingon Empire, 

I will seek out Keedera himself 

and tell him of your glorious tale. 

He will write a song worthy of you. 


BASHIR: 

Well, be sure to send me a copy. 


MARTOK: 

I'll do better than that —

I can make sure that he mentions you, 

The Healer who bound The Warrior's wounds 

so he could fight again. 


WORF: 

Right now, the only part of The Song 

that I wish to hear is 

the verse that tells of 

our escape. 

What good is defeating every Jem'Hadar soldier in this compound

 if it does not bring us 

closer to our freedom? 


BASHIR: 

We have to come up with 

a new escape plan. 


GARAK: 

That won't be necessary. 

The original one will work. 

I just have to finish what I started. 

After all, a verse about the Cardassian 

who panicked in the face of danger 

would ruin General Martok's song. 


MARTOK: 

And would be unfortunate. 


GARAK: 

Now, if you'll excuse me, 

my dungeon awaits. 


MARTOK: 

There is no greater enemy 

than one's own fears. 


WORF: 

It takes a brave man to face them.