Chapter 3

Ezri lay on the couch in her office and realized what Endar had been talking about. The thing was damned uncomfortable. Not that there was much she could do about it - the couch was bolted to the wall, and there wasn't enough room to put another one in. It hadn't seemed that hard when she first moved in to the office, but she'd never really considered lying on the couch for an extended period.

The news she'd just heard, however, had practically knocked her off her feet. "I don't believe this," she muttered bitterly, rubbing her hands over her face.

Kira stood over Ezri and laughed grimly. "You don't believe he'd do something like this? He's already tried to leave twice."

Ezri sighed. "He's not escaping. He went with Nog, and we both know why Nog went AWOL."

"I know," Kira grumbled. She turned away and began pacing. "But I wouldn't be surprised if Nog was encouraged by Alden joining him."

Irritated, Ezri narrowed her eyes. "You're so sure Nog needed further encouragement?" she said coolly.

The two glared at each other. Then the colonel sighed and backed down a little. "Ezri ... I know you're trying. And I know you haven't had a lot of time-"

"If you prosecute Alden you'll have to prosecute Nog as well," Dax said.

That stopped Kira short. She looked around the room, like a trapped animal. "I - I know," she murmured. "Prophets, I know."

Ezri relaxed a little, but held her gaze steady, unrelenting. She highly doubted that Kira was going to leave Nog twisting in the wind. As serious as going AWOL was in Starfleet, Kira would have done the same thing. Ezri knew that; so did Kira. Endar was safe for the moment - but not for much longer.

A long silence went by. Ezri sat up and looked at her hands. "You haven't asked me what you came to ask," she said dully.

Kira turned away. "Would it do me any good? You've already made up your mind."

Ezri kept staring at her hands. She knew she'd be wrong not to recommend him for relief of duty now. "Let me … let me talk to him."

The colonel laughed again: a short, unhappy sound. "I wouldn't trouble myself about that just yet. For all we know, they might not make it out of Ferenginar alive." She turned on her heel and headed for the door.

"Nerys," Ezri called out, jumping to her feet. "I'm sorry. I just -"

"Don't, Counselor." The sharpness in Kira's voice was more frustration than anger. "You're doing your job. I understand. But I have to do my job too. And your job is making mine awfully hard."

As the door slid shut behind the colonel, Ezri blew out the breath she'd been holding. "Damn him," she said.

She understood just how hard this was for Kira. If Endar relapsed for whatever reason and turned violent, he could be as hostile as any criminal - there was a great potential for danger, not just for herself and the crew, but anyone onboard who got in his way.

Endar's PADD lay on the desk; she walked over and picked it up. All of her background research, all of her observations, a whole isolinear chip's worth. Still more PADDs on various treatments were placed in uneven stacks across the wide surface. What was it worth? Not all the research in the universe could help this situation.

Angry tears stung Ezri's eyes, and she threw the PADD across the room. It hit the wall with a clang, and it didn't make her feel any better. With a sweep of her arm the rest of the PADDs flew off the desk and scattered across the floor. One of the chairs followed. Finally she restrained herself and stood there, panting and staring at the mess. It had been a while since a Dax host had resorted to throwing things. Suddenly tired, she righted the chair and sat in it, slumped with her head in her hands.

"Why is he doing this to me?" she groaned. "After all I've done for him - I could have hooked him up to an analyzer and…pumped him full of presidalin. I could have had him committed. I could have ...."

Taking this rather personally, don't you think?

Ezri held still and listened to the stillness of the room. A chiding thought from a former host was a common enough experience. This time, however, she couldn't quite place which host this was. In her mind, the inner voice almost sounded like Julian. She put up her defenses. "Maybe."

Don't hide the truth from me, Ezri. I know you too well.

She sighed. Whoever this was and whatever reason they had to speak to her this way, the familiar warmth of the voice seemed to promise a listening ear. "Endar isn't doing this to hurt me," she said slowly. "I know that. But…."

But you still feel betrayed. A counselor should never get so emotionally attached. There was a hesitation, as if for a disappointed sigh. Then the prim British accent sharpened in annoyance. How unprofessional of you.

"You don't need to lecture me on getting emotionally attached, Julian," she retorted, but her words expressed a confidence she didn't feel. The voice had lost its sympathy, even to the point of mocking her. She searched her mind, but the host remained hidden.

You were looking for something else. That's why you fought so hard. That's why you take it so personally now. You're upset because in the process of failing with him, you failed with yourself. Admit it. It never had anything to do with Alden.

Anger flashed through her - and a dart of real fear. "Oh, so I'm the one with the problem!"

You're broken, Ezri. You have been for sometime. And so is he. You thought that by helping him, you'd figure out how to help yourself. But you can't help him - and the only person really losing out is you.

Ezri's heart raced; she almost felt ill. "Why are you doing this?" she said through gritted teeth. "Who are you?"

The voice filled with a flippant charm. Oh, Ezri. After all this time, don't you know me at all? A laugh welled up from somewhere, almost shrill, yet menacing.

"Stop it," she whispered. "Leave me alone."

But he just kept laughing…louder and louder….

She clenched her hands around her head, pressing her skull as if she could crush the laugh into silence. "Get out!" she screamed. "Get out!"

* * * *

"Will you stop that racket?" Quark screamed at Commander Alden.

The first officer's mouth encompassed the smaller end of a human trumpet, the content of the small black case he had brought aboard the QT II

. Nog had to agree with his uncle. The Alden's trumpet was loud and banged against the bulkhead of the ship, the acoustics of which were not made for such a sound.

Alden removed his mouth from the horn and raised an eyebrow. "What's the problem?"

"I can't take that awful noise anymore." Quark panted. Alden rolled his eyes, stirring the Ferengi's temper. "Just because your pitiful lobes can't comprehend the noise you're making doesn't mean you have to inflict it on those with more advanced auditory systems."

"Auditory systems?" Alden snorted. "What are you, a computer?"

Nog had no interest in listening to his uncle and the first officer argue the rest of the trip -- he had enough on his mind. He rolled his eyes and knelt next to Alden on the floor. "Not to be rude, Commander, but is there anyway you could play it a little quieter?" he said gently.

Alden appeared to have something to say, but then he shrugged and placed the trumpet back into the open case. "How's that?"

Nog sighed. "If you like."

"Works for me," Quark grumbled from the co-pilot seat.

Nog sighed again. The tension among the three of them had been tight since they'd left DS9. It didn't help that Quark and Alden seemed to harbor deep resentment for each other. He didn't really like the idea of bringing his uncle along either, especially in the state he was in. Then again, I'd be in bad spirits if I'd been abducted at knife point as well, Nog thought. At first Quark had been nasty and afraid at the same time, but eventually he had resigned himself to his fate and helped pilot the ship in relative silence. Keeping him away from any of the communication devices helped.

Nog was going in to commit a treasonous act against the new Ferengi Government. Quark was in support of any governing body that expanded his profit margin, which had grown lean in the short months Rom had been Grand Nagus. And when it came to profit margins, Quark did not have a soft spot for anyone, least of all his benevolent, progressive, bone-headed brother, Rom. Nog knew this, and had kept a close eye on Quark. It wouldn't surprise him if Quark tried to turn Nog and Alden in the second they arrived on Ferenginar, if it meant carrying favor with Grak.

"You know," Alden said, startling Nog, "aside from the resemblance, it's hard to believe you two come from the same family."

Nog smiled sheepishly. "Well, I wasn't always Starfleet material."

"An avaricious streak running through you too?" Nog nodded, Alden raised an eyebrow. "I can't imagine that."

"Oh believe it, Commander," Quark piped up. "Nog showed quite a lot of progress as a child. Then the Federation came and he started hanging out with humans." He paused, eyes narrowing. "Now look at him. This is what your precious Starfleet has done to him." Alden turned to Nog and giggled silently. Nog returned a frown.

"Well, I hope you're happy, Nog," Quark continued, "You've dragged your whole family down with you now. I can't wait to see the look on Rom's face when they throw us in jail next to him." Quark left the co-pilot's chair and the cockpit.

Alden turned to Nog. "It's not my precious Starfleet, you know."

Nog shook his head. "Don't mind him. He's a mercenary when it comes to latinum."

"Maybe we should keep him restrained," Alden suggested.

"No, it's all right." Nog drew his legs to his chest. "He's capable of putting the mission in jeopardy, but he won't. At least, I don't think so."

Alden shrugged. "If you say so." He started to hum, the sounds similar to what he'd been playing on the trumpet. It hung awkwardly in the air.

"What was that knife you had?" Nog asked.

Alden stopped humming, his expression turning to worry. "It's...uh...just a little something I've picked up along the way." He stood and made for the replicator.

"Can I have a closer look?" Nog asked.

Alden stopped, sighing. "Sure. It's in the bag," he said quietly.

Nog leaned over and peered into Alden's bag, taking out the knife. Its handle was made of an alabaster-like material, was green gems lining it. The knife itself was fairly shiny, with a serrated edge on the rounder side. The other side of the knife was cut in an ornate design. It was quite lovely. "Looks like it needs a cleaning," he said, gently touching a ribbon of red substance strewn about the knife.

"No."

Nog ran a fingernail across the substance and looked at it. There was nothing under his nail. "Was the knife painted?"

Alden turned back with a mug and sat down. "You could say that." He blew at his drink. "It's blood."

Nog stopped touching the knife. "Why don't you clean it off?"

"I can't." Alden shook his head. "It's a lak'uan ceremonial knife. If it's used in a wrongful kill, the blood stays on the knife forever." He took a sip.

Nog looked at the knife, and then at Alden. "How did you get it? I've never even heard of it."

"I...picked it up along the way."

Nog frowned. The way Alden's eyes shifted in the pause tipped Nog off that the commander was lying. No matter. It was probably a story he'd get to hear someday. If they made it through the next couple of days.

"You certainly are full of secrets, Commander," Nog murmured.

"Yeah," Alden returned nervously. "I know."

Nog turned his head upward at the slightly taller human, his brow creasing. Alden was unusual, no doubt about it. Most humans had a sense of calm about them, happy with themselves and the life they led. But this human seemed like a dark, raging torrent. And a bundle of contradictions -- one moment jovial, the next sad, the next hostile.

"What were you playing before?" Nog asked, pointing to the trumpet.

Alden put his mug down and picked up the horn. "It's called 'Moonglow.' It's an old Earth song." He toggled the keys a bit. Nog winced as the notes resonated against the wall, clanging in his lobes. Alden noticed the pain and put the trumpet back down. "It really is a nice old song. Drives the women wild." He cocked his head to one side. "Women love a guy with a good ear for music."

Nog's face twisted with confusion. "I'm sure." Alden stared at him intently, causing Nog's face to redden. "What?" the Ferengi asked.

"You know what." Nog turned his head away. Alden laughed. "Why don't you tell her how you feel?"

Nog whirled back around, face flushed. "What... who... what?" Alden laughed, and Nog got up, walking back to the pilot seat.

"You know who, and what, I mean." Nog could hear Alden stand, coming nearer. "I see the way you two look at each other."

Nog knew full well who he was talking about, and what. Eudoxia Pedorina. The way she'd touched his shoulder back on Ops had not been to comfort a friend -- it was to comfort an object of affection. And Nog couldn't help feeling the same for her. She was gentle, intelligent, and attractive. Her accent rang like music.

"It wouldn't work out," Nog mumbled.

Alden fell into the co-pilot's chair. Nog tried not to look at him. "Excuse me?" the commander said, leaning in. "I didn't catch that."

"I said it wouldn't work out," Nog repeated loudly. He sighed. "Evvy and I."

"Why the hell not?" Alden asked. "So she's a little taller than you. So her 'lobes' are smaller."

"It's not just that." Nog sighed in exasperation. "She's human. The cultures are completely different. Biologically, we're not compatible. Plus, she's my subordinate. It'd be fraternizing."

There was an awkward pause, then Alden place a hand on the Ferengi's shoulder. "I don't know much about women. But I bet if you approached her, none of that stuff would matter."

Nog stared at his superior officer, and the two watched each other quietly. He was right, Nog was certain. But it felt wrong, and maybe it had something to do with his upbringing. He was Ferengi, after all, and their treatment of women wasn't exactly at an equal playing field. But things had been changing for some time. Or at least they were. "You seem to know a lot more about women than you think," Nog said.

Alden laughed. "Are you kidding? The whole gender creeps me out. Sweet and innocent one moment, monstrous the next. Moody like you wouldn't believe."

Nog couldn't help but see the irony in that. "But you knew about Pedorina," Nog pointed out. "And what about 'Moonglow'?"

"Well, these things come in time, Nog," Alden explained, rubbing his temples. "Especially when you've lived as long as I have."

"How old are you?" Nog asked.

Alden stared at Nog for a second, as if he didn't have an answer. Suddenly the pilot's console began beeping wildly. Nog turned to the controls and shut off the auto pilot. "Coming up on Ferenginar. Uncle," Nog yelled back to Quark. "I need you up here."

Alden left the co-pilot seat, and for a moment Nog thought he looked relieved, but he didn't have time to worry about it at the moment.

"Where are they?" Quark said, hopping into his seat.

Nog sighed. "Where are what?"

"The buoys. The detection grid," Quark said delightedly. "I want to see the look on your face when you see the defenses Grak has set up...." Quark's voice trailed off.

Nog looked intently at Ferenginar, unprotected.

"There's nothing," Quark said breathlessly. "Not even a marauder patrolling orbit."

"So much for your lines of defense," Alden said behind them.

"I wonder if Starfleet's made it clear that they have no intention of stopping him," Nog wondered out loud.

Alden snorted. "Wouldn't surprise me. I'm sure Grak's nice and cocky right now. Let him be. Makes it easier for us."

* * * *

Kira clasped the warm raktajino mug between her hands, watching the gentle haze of steam emanate from the liquid and float up towards the ceiling as she swung her chair around to face the view port. The reflection of the starlight gave the surface of her coffee a ghostly sheen as she raised it to her lips, savoring the taste. She tried to sink back into the chair, stretching her legs out until the tips of her boots touched the steel bulkhead.

I'm in my quarters, she reminded herself. I have gotten out of the office at last. I am going to relax if it kills me.

She nudged the padded material of the chair with her shoulders, trying to pummel it into a more comfortable position, before shutting her eyes and taking a few deep breaths. Okay. I'm relaxed. I'm doing the relaxing thing.

No I'm not. Irritably slamming the mug on to the ledge below the view port, she stalked across the room to expend some nervous energy, before returning to her chair.

"Computer," she said, "Replay the last paragraph."

The computer chirped in reply. A second later Kira heard her voice read back her recent entry. "They gave no indication of their intentions, and as a result there was no attempt to stop them from their course of action. It is my firm belief that they are acting in -- "

The computer chirped the log's end, and Kira sighed. In what? She thought. Acting in protest at being told that there was nothing they could do to stop Nog's father from being killed? Acting in spite of Starfleet Command's orders? She'd been hoping to say something like "in the Federation's best interests," but she didn't think Starfleet Command would agree.

She pushed a strand of hair back, the other hand balled into a fist and drumming against the table with building frustration. She had expected it from Nog, hoping that her subtle message had been clear enough, not becoming lost in the formalness of the words. She couldn't have denied him this. If it had been her own father, she would've done exactly the same, she thought, pushing away for now the familiar feelings of regret that was often associated with her father.

Her first officer's disappearance had come as more of a surprise. She had been alerted only when Kaoron had requested the use of a runabout for one of his scientific studies, and had taken the Orinoco - the same runabout that had been assigned to Alden for his trip to the conference. With no other runabout missing, and the only ship to have left the station that day being Quark's Treasure II, Kira had a fairly good idea where he was going and who he was with. Of course what really bothered her was that Alden's actions were all she needed to finally be rid of him, but not without also destroying Nog's career.

She turned her attention back to the PADD. It was as if the words were suspended from silver threads within her mind, tantalizingly out of reach, just skimming past her fingertips. She mentally reached out further, made a grab at them --

"Kuhlman to Kira."

She rubbed the ridges of her nose tiredly. "Go ahead."

"We're receiving a communique from Ferenginar, Colonel. It's a general transmission from Grand Nagus Grak."

She whirled the chair around, snagging the personal view screen that sat on her desk and activating it. "Patch it through."

Grak's increasingly familiar visage appeared on the screen, and Kira couldn't stop a scowl. The staff of the Grand Nagus was in his hand, and he appeared to be in some kind of great hall - she could see the decoration behind him, the latinum glinting on the walls. No doubt Rom and Leeta were in somewhat poorer accommodation.

"People of Ferenginar, and all beings of the Alpha Quadrant who are watching this moment, hear my words. As you know by now, there is a new light over the Ferengi Alliance, a ray of hope breaking through the rain clouds. We have disposed of our corrupted government to form a new one -- a government which will continue the greed and traditions of our people. All that remains is to sweep away the remainders of that corrupted ruler - which is why I contact you today." Grak smiled. "I hereby announce the charges against ex-Grand Nagus Rom."

Kira only half-listened to what Grak was saying, the accusations against those she counted as friends, the PADD still firmly gripped in her hand. How useless she felt, just sitting here while Grak dragged the Ferengi people back into the past. How well she understood Nog's fury. How clearly she remembered fighting a foe that had the resources of an entire empire under its control. She slowly turned her chair back to face the viewport as Grak's voice continued to ring out. She gazed out toward the wormhole.

"May the Prophets protect you," she whispered.

* * * *

"Okay. So what's the plan?"

Nog heard Commander Alden's words even through the rain lashing down upon them, low and tense in the night air. They were crouched behind a scraggly bush situated directly in the center of the Commerce Gardens, and Nog delayed replying to the human's question as he peered around the foliage.

The marketplace was deserted, with not a Ferengi in sight - the cobbled stones were slick with rainwater, faintly gleaming in the dim moonlight which had pushed its way through the famed Ferenginar rain clouds. And above the marketplace, standing like a sentinel, was the Tower of Commerce. Nog's heart leaped at the sight of it. For a moment, he was filled with the wild impulse to leap out from their hiding place, to rescue his father and Leeta. But the pair of armed soldiers standing guard outside the entrance was a painful reminder of how unrealistic that idea was.

Nog sighed, and pulled back into the cover of the bush. His two companions were silent. Quark had been silent from the moment they'd left the QT II in some secluded swampland, apart from the occasional grumble about how idiotic it was to leave the ship unguarded, and that every Ferengi ship dealer was no doubt converging on the craft at that very moment. Alden had also been quiet since the landing, except for his question, but his silence was strangely reassuring - Nog had seen his eyes scouring the landscape, sharp and watchful. And right now those eyes were firmly locked with Nog's, this time inquiring without words.

"The plan? We fight our way in, rescue my parents, and get out again." Nog hoped that he sounded more confident than he felt.

Alden turned to try and peer through the leaves himself, the rivulets of water running through his hair just visible in the poor light. "Sounds like a great plan. If we're trying to get ourselves killed, that is."

Nog snorted despite himself. "If you've got a better one, I'm all ears."

Alden turned to face him, and let out a laugh that he quickly managed to control and turn into a low chuckle. Nog joined in, careful not to make too much noise - there probably wasn't anyone else within hearing distance, but they couldn't be too careful, after all.

"If you want my opinion," Quark said as he turned his face towards them, eyes darting from side to side with fear, "the only way you'll get in is by surrendering. There's a whole tower full of soldiers guarding against an attack, and Rom and Leeta are right in the middle of them. We can't do this! This is real life, not Marauder Mo."

There was still a faint trace of a smile on Endar's lips. "Cheerful, aren't you?"

"I'm trying to be realistic!" Quark jumped as he heard the foliage behind him rustle; all three of them turned to find that it had been nothing more than the wind. The older Ferengi was visibly trembling as he turned back. "It was too easy; it was far too easy…."

"What was?" Nog whispered irritably.

"Getting here. This is the homeworld of the Ferengi Alliance; I refuse to believe that Rom has messed up this planet to the extent we even don't have scanners anymore. Even he isn't that stupid."

Nog watched uneasily as Alden returned to peering through the bushes, eyes firmly locked straight ahead of him. Did the commander agree with what Quark was saying, or was he simply ignoring the opinion? Perhaps it had been fairly easy to land on Ferenginar, seemingly without activating any kind of alarm, but there could be hundreds of reasons for that. Maybe the security grid was down for some reason, maybe Grak had disabled it during the take-over, and maybe the QT II was too small to be detected. Nog resolutely pushed Quark's words out of his mind - there were more important things to be concentrating on.

"Look."

The word from Alden instantly reminded Nog of the dangers of losing concentration, and he cautiously peered out from behind their leafy cover, following the commander's gaze.

There was some kind of commotion in front of the tower; there were angry words in the air. Squinting a little, his vision blurred by the rain, Nog saw that guards had apprehended a small group of fully-clothed women, maybe two or three of them. Their heads high, it seemed they would not go easily. The guards dragged them through the streets to the tower and pushed them onto the stairs. He remembered Grak's words about returning to the old ways as the guards began to tear the fabric from the stoic, silent women, before he retreated back behind the leaves, not wishing to see any more. A glance at his companions revealed that Quark had done the same, although Alden was still staring out, his jaw tense and a look of fury in his eyes. Nog certainly understood; he felt the same way himself - like he was a pan of boiling water, bubbling and barely under control. More than anything, he wanted to break from their cover and stop it, but he knew that he had to have restraint.

"I thought we'd left this kind of thing behind." His voice sounded curiously flat to his own ears. "This is what my father was trying to stop."

"This is the way things will always be, Nephew," Quark said softly, his elbow leaning on the muddy grass. "And the fact is those women are breaking the law, whether you like what they're doing or not."

Nog shot him a venomous glance. "How? By wearing a few clothes so they're not subjected to an uncontrollable environment?"

"You know as well as I do that Grak has banned females from wearing clothes! Besides - who said they could go outside anyway?"

Nog pushed himself away from the foliage, so he could see past Alden's unmoving form. "You're saying you agree with this?"

"I agree with the law!" Quark's teeth gleamed in the moonlight like silver pins. "I've lived with the old Ferengi laws all my life; my father lived with them all his life; every Ferengi has lived with them all their lives! If we stop living by those laws, then we aren't Ferengi!"

"Yes, we are! But we'd be a better Ferengi, where this kind of thing doesn't happen!" Nog swept his hand sideways, accidentally clipping Alden on the shoulder; forgetting his anger for a moment, he turned to apologize to the commander - then he stopped.

Alden hadn't moved since the last time Nog had glanced at him. He was still staring ahead, but his eyes hardly moved; they were unfocused, blank, but simmering with an emotion that Nog couldn't identify. His whole body was rigid and tense as a piece of stretched elastic; his teeth looked to be clenched tightly.

"Commander?" Nog said softly. The words had no effect, and he suddenly felt nervous - he shouldn't be like this. And judging from his eyes, he wasn't even looking at what was happening in front of him. The guards were now beating the women to the ground. Their electric whips flashed out at naked flesh, but the women were not saying a thing. Not even a whimper.

"What's going on?" Quark sounded apprehensive.

"I don't know," Nog replied in a low tone. "It's like he's frozen --" He didn't manage to complete the sentence, falling backwards on to the muddy ground as Alden leaped up with an ear-splitting yell of fury, charging straight through the bush and running at full speed towards the guards and the women.

"Commander!" Nog yelled, scrambling to his feet, seeing the women running in the tattered remains of their clothes as the guards turned their attention to the Human charging towards them. Alden was still yelling as he fired his disruptor at them; it was a wild shot that missed and struck the wall of the tower, setting off a high-pitched alarm.

Almost wailing, Nog joined in the charge -- he couldn't see any other choice. The guards would soon be crawling over this area, and he would be found whether he stayed behind their demolished cover or not. His legs felt as though they were made of lead, propelling him towards the tower against his will, and he could hear Quark yelling for him to come back. Too late now.

Ahead of him, Alden had reached the guards; narrowly dodging a burst of fire from the first one's disruptor that must've scorched his hair, he savagely lashed out with his knife. The Ferengi went reeling, but the commander's charge seemed destined to be short lived - as he advanced on the second guard, the doors to the tower opened and a host of Ferengis streamed out, disruptors locked upon him. At first Nog thought he wasn't going to stop, that he would keep fighting and make them open fire, but he seemed to realize that he was surrounded. The disruptor was grabbed from his hand before he could change his mind.

Nog's legs slowed and stopped as yet more of Grak's guards emerged from the tower, running towards him with their disruptors drawn. Hating himself, he let his own weapon drop to the ground. He would soon be arrested, and he could see that yet more were headed towards Quark's position. They couldn't escape.

It was over.

Chapter Four

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