* * * *

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" Quark breathed as he smoothed out the leather arm of the pilot's chair.

Nog stood in the cockpit of his uncle Quark's new Ferengi shuttle and raised his brow. If he didn't know any better, he'd think his uncle was experiencing a sensation similar to oo-mox. "What did you name her?"

Quark spun around in his chair and caressed the arm provocatively. "Quark's Treasure II," he cooed. "I got her in a deal with some Rigelian traders. They'd gotten her from some Hupterian trillium miners. Only 24 lightyears on her. Like new."

Nog nodded and smiled. Then he turned serious. "So when do we leave?" he asked gravely.

"Oh, I simply don't have the time to take her out for a pleasure cruise," Quark said softly. He shifted carefully in the chair and clutched the arm gingerly. "But I'll take you out soon, darling," he whispered. "We'll go out beyond the belt, and circle the -"

"That wasn't what I meant, Uncle," Nog said irritably. "And you know it."

Nog had approached his uncle in Quark's about going to Ferenginar to rescue Rom. Quark's expression turned to fear, and he quickly changed the subject to his new ship. Nog assumed Quark feared eavesdroppers - or perhaps spies.

"So let me get this straight." Quark sat back in his chair, and his emerald-green waistcoat crunched against the posh seat. "You want me to leave my bar for who knows how long; place it into the willing hands of one of my staff, who'll probably take half the earnings for themselves; and come with you to Ferenginar to oppose our new leader. Did I miss anything?"

Nog folded his arms against his chest, fairly certain his uncle understood. He gave his uncle his most encouraging look. "I think that's all. I suggest leaving tomorrow morning, get an early start --"

Quark's sudden burst of laughter interrupted Nog. The younger Ferengi grew suspicious. "What's so funny?"

Quark's laughter stopped abruptly. "You're serious?" he demanded. "You're actually going to Ferenginar? And you want me to come?"

"Of course I'm going. This Grak person made threats against my father and Leeta - I'm not going to stand by and just watch. I'm leaving as soon as possible. And I'd hoped that you'd want to come and help out your only brother."

"Nog!" Quark hissed, lowering his voice. "This isn't just 'some person' you'd be going up against; this is the Grand Nagus! Whether you like it or not, he's the ruler of the entire Ferengi Alliance now - he has every single soldier under his command. As soon as we'd stepped off the ship, or beamed down, or whatever you do to get onto the planet, there'd be more guns pointed at us than there are bars of latinum in the Nagal Vault. I don't know about you, but I don't want to spend eternity being nothing more than a burned patch in the street."

Nog moved forward, kneeling next to Quark's chair, anger so intense it made his head ache. Why couldn't his uncle understand? "What about the time Grandmoogie was captured by the Dominion? We rescued her - you were the one who started the rescue in the first place!"

"That was different; we actually had a chance of coming back alive." Quark shrugged. "And besides, Zek promised a reward."

"But we can't sit back and do nothing!"

"Wrong, Nog." Quark spun the chair back around and stared at the endless number of stars. "That's exactly what we should do. Let's face facts here for a moment: Rom is completely to blame for this situation. It's his fault."

"What?" Nog couldn't believe it.

"Oh please, Nog," Quark spun back around, countenance grave. "What did you expect? Since the first Ferengi ran about in the rain our culture has centered on gaining profit. Did you really think the Ferengi people, brought up in that same culture, were going to just change those beliefs overnight and become some kind of charity? Look at what Rom's done, with his unions and trade guilds - they're hardly vote-winning policies." Quark drew himself up. "And I have to say that I agree with the Ferengi people."

"But he was trying to do good!" Nog exploded. "He was trying to make Ferenginar better!"

"Really?" Quark moved over to the monitor next to the pilot's console, activating it. The image of the constantly-updating Ferengi market appeared on the screen, text scrolling both vertically and horizontally. "Check out the latest price of latinum, nephew. It's been rapidly dropping for months now, with no sign of a recovery. Of course Rom took great pains to hide this fact."

Nog stood and glared at the screen incredulously. "I don't believe you."

"Oh, I think you should. All Rom did was take the Alliance towards destitution, not to mention ruin a number of previously successful businessmen. Ever hear of Gokko?"

"Sure. He's a clothier." Nog forced the words through gritted teeth.

"Was a clothier. The finest on Ferenginar." Quark patted his waistcoat with a sigh. "And like every good Ferengi, he disagreed with the idea of unions. So when his workers went on strike - which is perfectly legal, thanks to my idiot brother - he lost everything because he refused to meet their demands. And of course, a Ferengi without profit is no Ferengi at all. They fished Gokko's body out of a swamp two weeks ago."

Nog whirled around, anger gleaming in his eyes. "That's not my father's fault."

"But it was caused because the unions are allowed, which is Rom's fault! Gokko wasn't the only one who was forced out of business, and if Grand Nagus Grak hadn't stepped in earlier, there would've been more." Quark tapped the screen. "Look at our economy; look at the facts. Businesses have been struggling all over the Alliance. My own holdings on Ferenginar have dropped in value since Rom took over. But I'm hoping that the change in government is going to help them recover to their former glory." Quark gazed happily at the monitor.

"So that's what this is all about?" Nog asked. "You won't help my father because he lost you money?"

"No. It's because Grak is going to make me money. It's because he's going to return every value I've ever held dear." His uncle leaned forward, smiling. "Nog, there's a Rule of Acquisition that's obviously been pushed to the back of your mind by all those Starfleet teachings, so I'll just remind you of it. Never allow family to stand in the way of opportunity."

Nog shot Quark the angriest glare he could muster, before stalking out of the ship.

* * * *

The time helped him -- not many people were on the docking ring at 0400 hours. Nog moved quickly down the dimly-lit and drab corridors, small bag slung on his shoulder, checking for the right airlock -- the one for Quark's Treasure II.

He doubted his uncle would even know the tiny Ferengi vessel had gone before Nog returned with his stepmother and father. His uncle didn't have the time to go out for a cruise around the sector, and the QTII would have sat on the docking ring gathering dust.

Nog came up on the airlock and stood before the circular gate, the bronze-colored innards of the ship barely showing through the opposite door. He sighed, tugging at brightly-colored Ferengi civilian clothing. It was the last step -- even if he didn't start up the ship and leave, there was still a good chance his uncle would catch him and have him arrested for trespassing. If he opened this gate, there was no going back.

Getting on Ferenginar was the key. He was certain Grak would have security nets set up and waiting for any unidentified spacecraft. Certainly security was also going to be tight around Rom, but if he could get on the planet half the battle was won.

As he punched in his code, he didn't see the small form sitting in a corner of the airlock until the door rolled back.

"Commander!" Nog jumped, a heaviness sinking in his stomach.

Commander Alden looked up from the PADD in hand and cocked his head to one side. "So who is he?"

Nog gaped, unsure how to answer. He laughed nervously. "I'm not sure what you mean."

Alden put the PADD down and stared at Nog. "This...Rom guy. The one you were upset about."

"Upset?" Nog's nervous laughter continued. "No...I-I'm not upset at all. Obviously my uncle isn't here yet, we were supposed to take the ship out today. I think I'll --" Nog started to turn. Forget the ship. Forget Ferenginar. Forget everything.

"He's your father."

Except that.

Nog looked down. He didn't understand how his father could have let things get so bad. But he and Leeta were the only real family he had -- who was left after them? Quark? Who had more love for latinum than his family, especially his Starfleet officer-nephew?

"It was the only thing that made sense," Alden continued. "People always love their leader, but they'll easily change sides when a new one comes to power."

Nog turned back at Alden, and realized for the first time that he was also in civilian clothing -- a loose-fitting dark green shirt with brown pants.

"That's just the nature of politics and the people," Alden said quietly. He looked back up at Nog and smiled. "I was supposed to be attending a conference on tactical defense. It looked a lot more boring than it sounded." He shrugged. "And besides, there's nothing like tactical defense in action."

Nog's eyes widened. He was beginning to understand. "Won't the colonel notice you're gone?"

"I was going to offer my assigned runabout." Alden shook his head. "Something tells me Starfleet doesn't want a part in this."

Nog shook his head. "They're not ready for another conflict."

Alden snorted. "Typical. It's a historical fact that people heavily hit by war tend to become isolationists. Good thing I'm not wearing a uniform then, huh?" Alden stood up, revealing a bag and small, black case.

"Commander," Nog started. "I can't let you do this. It's too dangerous for --"

"Trust me, Lieutenant; I'm the last person you should worry about." Alden tugged at his shirt. "Besides, it'll be even worse for me to let you go and get yourself killed. Kira finds out that I knew...." He shook his head. "I like pissing her off, but that's just plain suicide."

"So then you're letting me go?" Nog's eyes brightened.

"Now wait just a minute!"

Alden and Nog turned to the sound of the nasally voice and saw Quark standing in the corridor. "How dare you!"

Alden rolled his eyes. "He's joining you?" Nog's eyes turned downward and he shook his head. Alden sighed. "Thank God. I hoped you had more sense than that."

"I knew you would be influencing him," Quark said, eyeing Alden. "This is a citizen's arrest. By the time Colonel Kira and I get through with you --" Quark began to laugh, but was speedily quieted by Alden's hardened stare. Nog could have sworn he heard a low growl emanate from the commander. Quark's eyes turned to Nog. "And you -- stealing my ship to commit treason! Why can't you take it for a joyride to Risa or gamble it away like other Ferengi youth?"

"I don't have time for this, Uncle," Nog said, pulling a small Ferengi disruptor out of his bag and pointing it at Quark. "Get on the ship. Now."

Quark erupted with laughter. "Stealing, treason, assault with a deadly weapon. These aren't exactly acts your precious Starfleet condones."

Nog took a few steps forward, disruptor ready. "And your point is...."

Quark's face grew serious. "You're not capable of doing this," he hissed.

Suddenly Alden flashed past Nog and threw Quark up against the corridor wall, an ornate knife at the bartender's throat. "Do you think I am?"

Quark gulped, exchanging glances between Alden and the knife. Nog stood beside Alden, staring up at Quark. "What was that you were saying, Uncle?"

Quark looked at the two and laughed nervously. "What are we waiting for? The...uh...let's go!"