



Garak took a certain pride in his work. Bespoke, rather than off-the-rack. He did not simply murder on demand.
—Hollow Men by Una McCormack
Garak no
Two essays to do and three poems and a saint’s life to translate? The obvious answer is to procrastinate by rereading Hollow Men, and then drawing a shitty comic version of this absolutely brilliant little exchange.
Julian, dear, for all your inhuman intelligence, you really don’t know how to take a hint, do you?
Jadzia knows what’s up, though.
So I was thinking again about the DS9 novel Hollow Men [heavy spoilers bellow]
Odo eased himself into the seat next to Garak. “I forgot to ask,” he said, “how was Earth?” At the far end of the bar, Quark put the stopper in the bottle of Saurian brandy he had been watering and came over eagerly to listen.
Garak put down his glass, opened his mouth to speak, stopped, thought for a while, considered replying, and then thought for a little while longer.
“I was punched repeatedly by pacifists,” he said at last.
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