Chapter 6

Night passed into the early hours of the morning with no news. Bashir kept himself diligently busy in the main ward, but his work had never dragged so slowly, nor had his concentration been so hard to control. Garak left the room not long after Rekel did, following his own course of action; it was almost dawn when he reappeared. Alert but relaxed, the tailor sat down near the entrance and waited with an innate composure that was baffling to Bashir. After nearly four hours of not knowing, he was ready to crawl out of his skin.

As usual, Bashir was the first to hear Rekel's footsteps approaching from the hallway. He straightened and turned toward the door; Garak listened carefully to the brisk pace of her step and then smiled. "I believe we've made an important breakthrough," he said.

Rekel held a PADD firmly in her right hand, and she lifted it up as she entered. "You were right," she said to Garak.

Garak nodded. "Good."

"What do we have?" said Bashir.

In answer, Rekel handed him the PADD. He scanned through its contents in one long sweep, then scrolled back up and read more slowly, taking in all the details. It was a few moments before the implications were clear, and even then he had trouble believing them. It all looked so simple.

"You're sure?" he said.

"Without a doubt," Rekel replied.

Garak gave him a triumphant look. "There lie the cards, Doctor. How would you suggest we play them?"

Bashir deactivated the PADD and handed it back to Rekel. "Acquire - and confront."

"Exactly what I was thinking."

Rekel was heading for the door. "The data will be confirmed for public access within the hour. The Federation must be informed."

"I'll make some calls," Bashir said. "In the meantime, Garak, I'll have Commander Hart establish a comm link to the second moon. I think it's time to have a little discussion with Nuvot."

"Consider it done. And then," Garak added succinctly, "perhaps after a light breakfast, you'll want to get your diplomacy skills in top form."

Bashir exhaled and shook his head. "Well. This should be educational."

"It looks to be an interesting day," Garak agreed.

Voko scowled at his fellow Ferengi as they hurried through the abandoned building. They were gathering the possessions and equipment that they'd beamed down - at least those that hadn't been carted off by the Cardassian and his meddling Starfleet friends. Between that loss and the infuriating dust kicked up from the floor by their trampling, Voko was not in a good mood. DaiMon Skal had contacted him several times over subspace, demanding they finish the job and beam back immediately, and each time the DaiMon's patience had been thinner.

Skal was still blaming Voko for that little Cardassian brat managing to escape, too. That would no doubt lead to hours of punishment duty when they finally got back to the ship. Voko decided that if he never saw another Cardassian child for the rest of his life, he would pass to the Divine Treasury a happy Ferengi.

There was a knock at the door. Voko jumped, then breathed a sigh of relief. Someone must have beamed down to speed up the process - Borik, maybe. He glanced around and locked his attention on the nearest man, struggling under the weight of a large box.

"You! Get the door!"

A face appeared from behind the box, sharpened teeth bared. "I'm busy getting this to the transporter. You get the door!"

Voko sputtered in outrage. Not only were his men doing an admirable job of making him look incompetent, but now they were disobeying his orders!

"Fine!" he snapped, doing his best to stride imposingly forward. "I'll get the door! How silly of me to expect the people under my command to do it!" Reaching the door, he swung it open so hard that it flew back against the wall and made the whole building shake.

"Hello," Dr. Bashir said pleasantly.

"Would you like me to turn the volume up for you?" Voko said, waving toward the controls of the comm unit.

Bashir ignored the sarcastic grin on the Ferengi's face. His request to speak with DaiMon Skal had been agreed to with surprising speed; he suspected that his sudden appearance had caught them off guard. He also suspected that Commander Blake's previous manhandling might have something to do with their cooperation. Unfortunately, Voko seemed to be getting back to normal.

"I'm sure I can hear just as well as you," he said patiently. "Just hail him, if you would, please. This won't take long."

Voko snorted and tapped in a few commands. The console burst to life with a buzz of static, and the Ferengi immediately forgot everything else and snapped to attention. It gave Bashir a chance to take a second look at the place where Kehin and the other children had been held. The thought only made him more determined.

The unit chirped as the comm link opened. Voko cringed as he spoke, his hands curled in front of his chest. "Sir, I'm terribly sorry to bother you, but...."

"You'd better be about to tell me that you're ready to beam out." Bashir was standing to the side of the console, but even so he could almost feel the force of the DaiMon's withering glare. The bluish light from the screen illuminated Voko's orange face in a bizarre muddy hue; he didn't look quite so arrogant now.

"No, sir, we still have a few things to take care of before we can -"

"Then get on with it and stop wasting my time. End of communi-"

"Sir!" Voko cried. "Sir, I have the Human - the Starfleet doctor! He wants to talk to you."

There was a pause, and Bashir smiled to himself. Apparently he was getting good at surprising Ferengi.

"Where is he? Let him speak to me."

Voko beckoned; Bashir unfolded his arms and stepped in front of the console. Displayed on the screen was a Ferengi dressed in the uniform of a DaiMon of the Ferengi Alliance. His jagged teeth formed into a grin, and Bashir had the distinct feeling that he was doing mental calculations as to how much he could sell a human for.

"So you wanted to talk to me?" His voice was slightly deeper than that of most Ferengi, and his tone was certainly commanding.

"I did. My name is Dr. Julian Bashir. I was wondering if we could have a little chat."

The DaiMon settled back into his chair. "Is that so."

"I think it would be worth your while," Bashir said, taking a satirical air. "Call it a business proposition."

Skal grinned. "You think like a Ferengi, Doctor."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"As you should." He nodded with all the graciousness of a man sure of his invulnerability. "Well, you've piqued my curiosity. Not many people would go so far from the city, alone and unarmed, just to 'have a little chat.'"

Bashir eyed the Ferengi around him. "I didn't think I would need to be armed. I'm hoping that's still the case."

"Of course, of course. But enough pleasantries! You came here to talk to me." Skal folded his hands over the lapels of his over-embroidered coat. "So talk."

"I'd like to discuss the state of your 'visiting privileges' contract. There seem to be a few problems with it." He hid a smirk as he spoke; that was putting it lightly.

If anything, Skal only looked annoyed, as though the topic had become boring to him. He recited his defense by rote. "Our contract is completely in order, Doctor," he said. "That is common knowledge. And I can assure you that the unfortunate incident with the children won't be repeated. It was very distressing to hear that some of my men were caught up in such a horrible trade, and they have been severely punished. Now, if that was the only thing you wanted to talk to me about, it looks like you've wasted your time. So if you'll just...." He made a shooing motion.

"Actually, I have some news to pass along," Bashir replied smoothly, standing his ground. He was pleased to see Skal's brow crease in confusion. "It's about your Cardassian client, Nuvot. I'm afraid that he hasn't been entirely honest with you."

All traces of Skal's friendliness disappeared. "What do you mean?"

"Some friends and I decided to investigate him, and we found some interesting information," Bashir said. "A few years ago, Nuvot was working for the Cardassian Central Command as a trade advisor. He was partly responsible for all trade throughout the Cardassian Union, and had a large involvement in the decisions involving trade routes. Fairly soon afterwards, it was discovered that a number of the freighters traveling on the routes close to the Badlands were making unexplained detours - supplying the Maquis with certain goods in exchange for a large quantity of latinum before continuing on their way. Are you following me, DaiMon?"

Voko and the others shifted their feet. Skal glowered. "I'm listening," he said.

Bashir shrugged lightly. "As I was saying. During the arrest and interrogation of the freighter captains, it emerged that not all of the money received was kept as profit. Fifty percent of it was going back to the man employing them. As I'm sure you've already guessed, that man was Nuvot."

"He's smart, for a Cardassian." The scorn in Skal's voice was obvious, though it didn't quite mask the apprehension. "I don't care if Nuvot has a shady past. He has ownership, and that means our contract is valid and we may stay until our business here is done. Beyond that, he has nothing to do with me."

Bashir smiled a little. "Actually, he does. You see, his superiors were quite embarrassed by Nuvot's activities. It wouldn't have been good for their reputation if the general public found out he'd been doing this under their very noses. Rather than bring Nuvot to trial, especially at a time when the Cardassian Union was trying to gain the favor of the Dominion, Central Command covered it up. As far as the public knew, Nuvot simply decided to retire. In reality he was fired on the spot and reported for his crime - a criminal record that invalidates his claim to ownership of the land, and any contracts based off that ownership. I take it you understand what that means?"

Skal remained silent, so Bashir continued. "It means that Nuvot has no claim to that land whatsoever - it's under the control of Cardassia Prime. Which also means, DaiMon Skal, that you're breaking the law just by being here."

Skal leaned forward with a hiss. "This is a trick - and even if it's not, what could the Cardassians do to enforce this so-called law? They barely have a government, let alone a military!"

"It's no trick," Bashir said calmly. "The information has been checked for validity by Cardassian and Federation intelligence, and we have been given full authorization to act upon it. Since the Federation is now officially assisting the new government, those in opposition to Cardassian policy must answer to Starfleet. If you activate your scanners right about now, I think you'll find three Federation vessels moving toward your position with every intention of enforcing that law."

Too late, Skal understood Bashir's confidence. He spun around to face his helmsman, the color visibly draining from his features. "Don't just sit there! Scan for them!"

Offscreen, the helmsman muttered nervously in confirmation. Bashir noted the shock in Skal's eyes with grim satisfaction. "May I point out, DaiMon," he said, "that any form of retaliation would be a very bad idea. They are monitoring my signal and they are more than a match for you. I suggest you agree to the terms."

Rage contorted the Ferengi's face. "And those would be?" he said through clenched teeth.

"Pick up the rest of your men and get the hell out of here. And if you ever come back into this system again, contract or no contract, those ships will be firing. Am I making myself clear?"

Skal was livid. Several seconds went by in strained silence; then he made a stab at the controls by his side, and the screen went dark. The Ferengi in the shack stood staring at Bashir with utter loathing, and for a moment he was keenly glad of the fleet's presence in his favor. Then Voko snarled at him: "Get out."

"Gladly." Bashir stepped back and tapped his combadge; the familiar shrill of a Starfleet transporter rose around him. The last thing he saw before he was beamed away was Voko kicking a chair to splinters in his fury.

Chapter Seven

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