Deep Space Nine · Season 7
[indicating a painting above the fireplace] Is this yours?
Mom insisted on hanging it in here. I hate it.
Why?
Well, the composition is puerile and obvious, the colors belong on a child's toy, and the technique is laughable.
But other than that—
It's perfect.
This is an alternate universe; shouldn't everything be different?
[confronting Chu'lak, a Vulcan serial killer] Why did you do it?
Because logic demanded it.
[talking to Odo about the distrust for Changelings] We humanoids are the product of millions of years of evolution. Our ancestors learned the hard way that what you don't know might kill you. They wouldn't have survived if they hadn't jumped back when they encountered a snake coiled in the muck. And now millions of years later, that instinct is still there.It's genetic. Our tolerance for other lifeforms doesn't extend beyond the two arm, two leg variety. I hate to break it to you, but when you're in your natural state, you're more than our poor old genes can handle.
You want to know? You really want to know what my problem is? I'll tell you—Las Vegas, 1962. That's my problem. In 1962, black people weren't very welcome there! Oh, sure, they could be performers or janitors, but customers? Never!
Maybe that's the way it was in the real Vegas, but that's not the way it is at Vic's. I have never felt uncomfortable there, and neither has Jake.
But don't you see?! That's the lie! In 1962, the Civil Rights Movement was still in its infancy! It wasn't an easy time for our people, and I'm not going to pretend that it was!
Baby... I know that Vic's isn't a totally accurate representation of the way things were, but... it isn't meant to be. It shows us the way things could have been—the way they should have been.
We cannot ignore the truth about the past.
Going to Vic's isn't going to make us forget who we are or where we came from. What it does is reminds us that we are no longer bound by any limitations, except the ones we impose on ourselves.
A vodka martini. Stirred, not shaken.
Right away, sir.
[laughing] Ah, yes, Romulus. How well I remember it. You'll find the predominant color to be grey. The buildings, the clothes, the people. Did you know that the Romulan heart itself is grey? It's true. And altogether appropriate for such an unimaginative race.
How sad. I must tell you, I'm disappointed in hearing you mouth the usual platitudes of peace and friendship regarding an implacable foe like the Romulans. But I live in hope that one day you'll come to see this universe for what it truly is, rather than what you wish it to be.
Then I shall endeavor to become more cynical with each passing day, look gift horses squarely in the mouth, and find clouds in every silver lining.
If only you meant it.
[Luther Sloan is attempting to recruit Dr. Bashir for a Section 31 mission on Romulus]
Your assignment is to gather data on the Romulan leadership. In essence, we want you to take the pulse of their government, no pun intended.
You want me to spy on an ally?
To evaluate an ally, and a temporary ally at that. I say that, because when the war's over, the following will happen in short order: the Dominion will be forced back to the Gamma Quadrant. The Cardassian empire will be occupied. The Klingon Empire will spend the next ten years recovering from the war and won't pose a serious threat to anyone. That leaves two powers to vie for control of the quadrant: the Federation and the Romulans.
This war isn't over, and you're already planning for the next.
Well put.
Admiral, where's Sloan?
Sloan's dead.
Admiral... where's Sloan?
How long have you worked for Section 31?
I don't.
[scoffs] Just a "temporary alliance"?
Something like that.
And you don't see anything wrong with what happened?
I don't like it, but I've spent the last year and a half of my life ordering young men and young woman to die. I like that even less.
That's a glib answer and you know it. And it's a cheap way of avoiding the fact you've trampled over the very thing those young men and women are out there dying to protect! Doesn't that mean anything to you?
Inter arma enim silent leges.
"In times of war, the law falls silent." Cicero. Is that what we've become? A 24th Century Rome driven on nothing more than the certainty that Caesar can do no wrong?
I wonder what the Defiant was doing out there?
Looking for survivors from the Koraga.
For that long?
Our adversaries don't view their soldiers as expendable. They're not bred in hatcheries like the Jem'Hadar.
If you have something to say, Damar, say it.
Do you have any idea of the casualties Cardassia has taken? There's not one family who hasn't lost someone to this war!
Their sacrifice will not be in vain. We will be victorious. [Damar takes another drink] A bit early, isn't it, even for you?
Something to warm the bones. It's freezing in here!
The Founder prefers it that way.
I don't see why we should suffer, she hasn't been in here for days!
Feel free to dress warmly.
I wonder what she does in her quarters all day. She didn't look well the last time I saw her. [sarcastically] I hope she's not ill!
How can a god be ill?
Perhaps she's not a god.
What happened to the brave officer I served with? The one who stood at my side as we fought the entire Klingon Empire with a single ship?
Those were simpler times.
Those days might be gone, but the man I served with isn't. He's still within you. Reach in and grab hold of him, Damar. Cardassia needs a leader.
You were its leader once. You could be again.
The Pah-wraiths have shown me that I have another destiny. (offering his hand) Good luck, old friend.
And to you.
[Worf has just killed Weyoun Seven. Damar checks for a pulse and, after confirming Weyoun is dead, bursts into laughter]
[to Weyoun Seven's corpse] Overconfidence... the hallmark of the Weyouns. Maybe the Founders should eliminate that from your genetic recipe next time! [to Worf] They'll just make another copy of him, you know. You should have killed me; there's only one Damar.
I will keep that in mind.
[Damar is drinking alone when Weyoun Eight walks in]
[mockingly raises his glass] Well hello! [chuckles to himself]
[annoyed] I'm glad to see you find the death of my predecessor so amusing.
Oh, you misjudge me, I miss him deeply. Here! [pours himself another drink] Let's drink to Weyoun Seven!
When will the prisoners be executed?
When the trial is completed. Legal protocol must be observed.
When?
[irritated] The execution is scheduled for tomorrow afternoon, fourteen hundred hours.
Have they agreed to cooperate?
No. Maybe you should talk to Worf again! [cackles gleefully]
These quotes come from Wikiquote's Deep Space Nine pages and are available under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License.
