"Death hath had a thousand doors to let out life..."
Garak hated funerals. He knew well how fleeting life was, and didn't need any reminders.
He consoled himself with the thought that the death had been a peaceful one. Klingons thought that dying in your sleep was a disgrace. To Garak, it sounded pretty damn good.
Garak took the vase from Colonel Kira. Ironic that the remains of a man who was larger than life could fit inside such a tiny vessel. He did his duty: sprinkled the ashes inside the airlock, stepped back, closed the door.
And watched as the remains of Dr. Julien Bashir drifted out into space.