CHAPTER TWO: TROUBLE HAS A NAME.

Mekor's P.O.V

There was an archaic Cardassian axiom Mekor's father, Skrain Dukat, used to say to him when he was a child. Skrain would set his nimble hand upon his small shoulder, gaze out along the unfurling cityscape of Lakat from their walkway, and turn to him with those stormy eyes of his, that particular tempestuous hue of grey Mekor had inherited himself, and smile.

Trouble, my son, most often comes in threes.

His father would softly squeeze his shoulder.

Do not ever forget that.

Of course, in time Mekor did, in fact, forget it. As most children did with obscure anecdotes given by work-strained parents deep into the hours of twilight. Trouble, with Mekor's life of privilege, wealth and status, appeared, to him at least, to be so far out of his sphere of life it might as well be in the Gamma Quadrant.

It had all seemed so easy.

Straightforward.

Simple.

His father, Gul Dukat, was Prefect of Bajor, Head of Terok Nor, and his mother, his sweet, charming mother, was Chief Researcher at the Lakarian Institute of Science. There had been nothing, not one single thing, Mekor could have asked for that his parents would not give him.

And give him they did.

Everything.

As their only son, their only child, Mekor knew he was pampered.

He had been tutored in the very best university of Cardassia Prime, that of his mothers, and came away with his Unit, in full accolades and distinction, in the esteemed fields of Biotechnology and Geophysics. He had, upon completion of his Unit at twenty-five, so young to a Cardassian, obtained himself a research position on a well-respected science vessel. Following he finished his mandatory military conscription for the next decade, naturally.

At thirty-one, as with all good Cardassians, his future seemed set.

And he was happy.

His mother adored him. His father was proud. He was equally respected and feared by his colleagues. Admired by his superiors. He was well on his way to a high position in Central Command if he, in the next few stardates, played his hand well. Who knew? Perhaps, in the near future, the title of Gul was hovering on the horizon.

Of course, there had been a few… Snags in his ascent.

His father's rather impressive fall from grace, and subsequent surprise of a half Bajoran sister, was, to put it lightly, hard. His mother, quite rightly, had separated from him, and though Mekor had not seen his father in many a cycle after he had washed up at their door in toe with a dishevelled girl and his mother had promptly kicked them both out, this shift in fortune had not been permanent.

A Dukat is never down for long, son. Always, no matter what, get back up on your feet. And always make sure the men who put you down won't be able to do the same as you. Permanently.

Within a year, his father was back in good graces with Cardassia, and with the backing of the Dominion behind Gul Dukat's name things had gone back to the way they should have been all along.

His father restored in Central Command, his mother recalled to her post at the Lakarian Institute, and their family name, which meant so much to a Cardassian, restored to its former glory.

Then Mekor had begun his military service that year and everything fell into place.

Order.

Delightfully comfortable order.

He had been serving as a tactical officer aboard a Galor-class ship, the very best in the Cardassian fleet -obviously Mekor would be on the best, he was always amongst the best- when he caught wind of a mission to Terok Nor, recently appointed Deep Space 9 by those insipid Starfleet Commanders. He didn't catch much of the specifics, something or other about a dying Cardassian needing to be extradited home, but he was not interested in the details.

He was only interested in one thing.

His sister.

She, Ziyal was her name if the reports Mekor had heard were true, would be on the station. By the intelligence he had gathered, she was attending an… Art school on Bajor.

Who had ever heard of a school for art?

Yet, a speedy, and disappointingly effortless, hack into the Bajoran enrolment register revealed that particular school to be dismissed for the next few star cycles. The precise time the Cardassian dignitaries were to be docking upon Deep Space 9 to negotiate the senior Cardassian commander repatriation home.

She would be there, on Deep Space 9, he knew.

Right there.

Within reach.

Despite everything, or because of it, Mekor wanted to, at the very least, meet Ziyal. Greet her better than a quick glimpse of a bowed head before his mother, who had been raging and yelling and sobbing, had hastily sealed the doors on both her and his father, in spite of Mekor imploring her to reopen them.

By the time Mekor had succeeded in bypassing his mother's locking code and got the door free, his father and sister were gone. When he, eventually, managed to track them to the freighter his father had been captaining, a punishment undoubtedly given from Central Command for his… Indiscretions, Ziyal had already moved on to Deep Space 9.

A place he previously could not go.

Previously.

Mekor had heard a lot about Bajorans in his time growing up on Cardassia. Tales of their pointless religion, inane ways, weak virtues offered by imagined 'prophets', a need for a strong Cardassian guiding hand, and yet… Yet this was his sister, and there was something special in that, he thought.

This sister was his.

Mekor, by nature, much like his father, was possessive. Perhaps a trait exasperated by being a only child.

Not so only anymore.

Curiosity won.

It merely took a few greased palms, a sprinkling of threats here and there, to get himself on the delegation going to Deep Space 9. Ironically, his father, with his recent reinstatement to his high position of Legate, was spearheading the group.

It became all that much easier.

And then, for the first time in Mekor's pleasant life, real trouble came.

She came.

With her strange, strange ways and her bright, peculiar green eyes. That sharp tongue and all too keen grin. That bizarre rush of hair, hair that…

That twisted and curled and glinted and-

The way when she was irritated her nose would coil just so that her nose ridges bumped in the middle-

Or the odd quirk of an eye-ridge when something amused her-

Or the way she would laugh, abundantly laugh, wild and bright and high, without a care about how loud she was or where she was-

Or how she, even after hours of close quarters stuck in a cramped lift, could still smell so exquisitely of sunshine and sugar and silk swathed sex and-

And, of course, how could he forget that mean left hook that left him with a black eye?

What was it she had called him?

Ah, yes, a peacocking pompous prick.

How was he supposed to know, having grown up amongst the humans, she did not understand fighting, particularly throwing insults, was the Cardassian way of flirting?

So it was only natural that he had told her it was dangerous to use ones entire vocabulary in a single sentence.

She didn't especially like the jab at her intelligence.

He had not understood her telling him it was dangerous not to duck.

Not until her fist swung and clocked him straight in the face.

Looking back, Mekor thought he might have felt that first spark of love right at the moment her knuckle struck eye socket.

He was completely besotted by the time their fight had escalated to the point, even after the engineers had managed to crack open the lift the two had been stuck in from a malfunctioning locking system, they had barreled past the onlookers where, after a rather nasty headbutt on her part, she had swiftly hurled them both through a window.

It was completely bad luck that window happened to be attached to the room where the negotiation for Tekeny Ghemor's extradition was taking place.

It had taken most of the security guards present to tear the two apart.

To a Cardassian, that fight had been nothing less than a betrothal proposal.

It was just a shame that Mekor had not known she didn't know that at the time.

In hindsight, after the fight, strapped to opposing Sick Bay beds, perhaps demanding their Bonding take place in his ancestral home rather than hers was a bit hasty. Nevertheless, he had learned to duck when a beaker came flying at his head when he refused to break the Bonding contract that, ignorant or not of Cardassian practices, she had instigated.

Mekor always had the best.

Yet, that all came much later.

The day Mekor came to Deep Space 9 was the day he discovered his father had been right all along. Trouble did come in three, and Mekor, by the end, could name them all.

Harriet.

Lily.

Elim.

Mekor and his perfect, simple, uncomplicated life would never be the same again.

It was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

And it all started when she strolled into that turbo lift to meet her father at the replicator, the exact same place Mekor was going to meet his...

Thoughts?

Note: So Mekor won! The official Harriet pairing in this fic is Fem!Harry/Mekor. For that reason, I wanted to do just a little excerpt from him before we move into them meeting, not only for you guys to get a hint of his character, what's to come, get some grounding on his back story, but to help myself feel him out too. Also, if this pairing was not your cup of tea, so much so that you can't stand reading anymore because of it, before all the good stuff starts coming I've given you guys the chance to jump ship without missing any plot.

This isn't really a chapter, I know it's really short compared to my others, but think of this as a little taster before the main meal comes rolling in.

Next chapter we're back with Harriet and co, and, of course, Mekor's first 'real' appearance.

I hope you're all looking forward to it!

Thank you all for the wonderful reviews. Merlin knows how many times I've read each and every one lol. Thank you for the follows and favourites too! As always, if you have a spare moment, drop a little review, they keep the muses singing, and I will hopefully see you all very soon. The next chapter is already written and just needs a bit more tightening, so back to the plot we head!