WYCBT: Episode 8

Deep Space Nine: What You Come Back To
Episode 8: "Family and Opportunity"

Chapter 4

Quark swallowed a wail of fear, as he, Nog and Commander Alden were shepherded into Grak's personal chamber at the top of the Tower of Commerce - with disruptor rifles prodding into their backs, courtesy of two burly guards. The Great River had suddenly turned into a series of rapids; he had been forced to come here, had been captured by his own people and, just to add insult to injury, was soaked to the skin. This isn't how it was meant to happen! I was meant to do well in life, to rake in the latinum, to retire to a little moon with some Dabo girls. Not this!

But even his inner voice was silenced, as he saw Grak rise from the richly decorated chair he'd been resting in. Quark had considered Grak an imposing figure when he'd been watching the Nagus' communicated message, and he'd viewed it from the safety of the small console behind the bar. Now, with the new ruler of the Ferengi Alliance standing right in front of him, Quark's legs began to shake. Glancing at his companions didn't help; Nog was glaring defiantly - defiantly! - at Grak, while Alden looked dizzy, disorientated. Quark's legs shook a little more.
"Well, isn't this a nice surprise." Grak looked at all three of them, his sharp eyes darting as if he were inspecting his troops. "Here I am, trying to think of the perfect way to make an example of Rom and all those who would follow his ideas - and who should turn up? The son who thinks like a Human and the brother who serves drinks to Starfleet."
Quark began to protest, before coming back to his senses. Nog, on the other hand, glared with an even greater fury. "Better to think like a human than some dictator intent on taking Ferengi society a step backwards!" he spat.
Grak seemingly didn't hear him, having transferred his gaze to Alden. "And just to add icing on the cake, they bring with them a Starfleet officer." He grinned suddenly. "Dear dear, this will look bad, won't it? Starfleet caught trying to invade the Alliance and overthrow its Nagus. I'd say that it's enough to start a war." He turned his back on the commander.
"I'm not in Starfleet." The words burst out of Alden as if he'd suddenly regained his voice, and Quark saw one of the disruptors being pressed into his back. It was the first time he'd heard Alden speak since he'd charged towards the Tower; the human's voice sounded ragged. "I'm a merchant; I'm the captain of a ship on the Bajoran trade routes. I'm not with the Federation."
"Really?" Grak turned to stare levelly at the commander. "So there's a perfectly good reason why you'd suddenly appear on Ferenginar, yes?"
Alden gazed back at the Ferengi, swaying slightly. "I've known those two for years, made a few deals here and there. I was delivering a shipment of Saurian brandy to Quark's bar, and I overheard them talking about their plans to come here. I owed them a favor, so I decided to help out."
"What a lovely story."
"Thank you," Alden said with an attempted smile.
"But even if you aren't a Starfleet officer, your companion still is." Grak's grin reappeared. "That's all I need. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to - Frem, take the prisoners to the cells."
Quark felt a strong hand being placed on his shoulder, before Grak's voice rang out again. The Nagus was looking straight at him, his eyes seeming to narrow.
"Not that one. I would like to talk to Quark for a while."
Quark barely noticed as his nephew and Commander Alden were escorted away from the guards. He didn't hear any arguments or protests Nog might have made - he was too busy staring into Grak's eyes like a petrified swamp-rabbit. The Nagus didn't move a muscle, which only increased Quark's trembling. Maybe he just wants to ask me something about Rom, or Zek, his frantic mind reasoned, as he heard the door close behind him with an ominous slam. Or maybe…maybe he's got a disruptor. Maybe he wants to make an example of me now! He's going to kill me; he's really going to kill me! Feeling like a trapped animal, his senses suddenly sharper than they'd ever been in his life, Quark did the only thing he could think of.
Flinging himself on to the floor at Grak's feet, desperately trying to cringe appropriately, he finally released his inner wail. "I'm sorry; I'm so sorry! I didn't want to come here! My nephew kidnapped me and stole my ship, brought me here against my will, made me fight against you! I don't want to fight you - I want to live in peace on a moon somewhere! I don't want to die!" He let out a few sobs, the accepted Ferengi way of displaying complete submission, before slowly risking a peek upwards.
Grak towered over him, but there was no phaser levelled in his direction as he'd expected. Instead, there was almost a look of understanding on his face. Quark let out a last sob just to make sure, but Grak's expression didn't change.
"You don't have to die," Grak said calmly. "That was never in my plans for you."
Quark gathered himself onto his knees, being very careful to keep his hands in cringe-position. "I don't have to die?" he asked in disbelief, before an equally pressing question popped into his mind. "And you have plans for me?"
"Indeed." Grak walked a small distance away from him, before turning back. "I have heard stories about you, Quark."
"Whatever they've told you, it's all lies," Quark said quickly. "Except the good things, of course."
Grak's voice became softer. "I've heard that you have no great love for your brother's policies. I heard that even as Rom was appointed Grand Nagus, you declared that you wouldn't follow his laws. You decided to stay with the true Rules of Acquisition."
Sensing Grak's thoughts, Quark mentally rubbed his hands; his chances of survival were looking better and better all the time. All he had to do was hold on for a while longer. "I was only doing my duty as a loyal Ferengi businessman," he answered with a suitable amount of humbleness.
Grak's hand gripped Quark's arm and pulled him to his feet, until the two of them stood face to face. "You defied Rom even though he was your brother - you acted as a true Ferengi, and put business first, even though you could have risen to a position of power if you had joined Rom. That is the kind of dedication that I admire, and is a quality I am looking for in those who would be my advisors." Grak raised his head. "I would like you to be one of them, Quark. Your dedication to the Rules of Acquisition would set an excellent example to the rest of my staff, and to all Ferengi."
Quark felt his eyes widen, and wouldn't have been surprised if his jaw had dropped on to the plush carpet. He floundered for words, still trying to take it in - a chance to be an advisor to the Grand Nagus? True, he had temporarily served in a similar position to Zek a few times, but that had been different. This was something… incredible. "Me?" he finally forced out. "But… but.…"
"All I ask is that you denounce your brother. Publicly denounce Ex-Grand Nagus Rom at his execution tomorrow; show the people of Ferenginar that his own brother didn't agree with his rule. Show them what is right."
The words snapped Quark out of his amazement as if he'd been slapped. "A-at the execution?" he stammered. "Isn't that a little harsh? Rom's probably miserable enough without me throwing it in his face." He laughed nervously. "A-and just before he dies, even."
"It's for the greater good; it'll show our people that Rom's reign is over, and that the old ways will not be dislodged. We will be strong again, with his disgusting ideas purged from the world." Grak's face was calm. "I know he is your brother, and you undoubtedly feel some kind of bond with him, but think like a Ferengi. You'd gain so much, be given so many opportunities, earn more latinum than you've ever dreamed about. Maybe even enough for that moon."
"A moon.…" Quark stared down at the carpet, torn. He had always tried to live like a Ferengi, and what Rom's treason under true Ferengi law certainly warranted everything that would happen tomorrow. After all, Ferengi really had no family - and brothers were most certainly waiting in the wings for the opportunity to inherit a sibling's fortune.
The simple fact was Quark didn't want to face his brother. He didn't want to come here, and he didn't want to see Rom executed. It had to be done though - there was no choice in this. That was Ferengi law. But then there was his mother - what would she say? And since when did he care what Ishka said?
What would Rom have done? He would have saved Quark, the blithering idiot. But Quark didn't need to be saved, according to Grak. All Quark had to do was make a tiny little speech denouncing his brother. It was so simple, so cut and dry. And, as Grak had said, there was so much to gain - and there was the added bonus of not being killed if he accepted Grak's offer. That was quite an incentive.
"What's the sixth Rule of Acquisition, Quark?" Grak asked softly.
His face finally broadening with a grin, Quark looked back at his Nagus. "Never allow family to stand in the way of opportunity."
* * * *

The walls of the tiny prison cell were bright and warm-colored, betraying the cold dampness that had settled into Nog's clothes. Leaning forward, he grabbed hold of the metal prison bars and inquired, "Father, what happened to the force shields?"

Across the way in another cell, Rom sat on the tiny platform that served as a bed, the melancholy expression on his face as gloomy as Nog's disposition. "We, uh, sold them."
"You sold the force shields?" Nog exploded.
Rom's head bowed, feeling his son's disapproving stare. Leeta ran a finger down his back and scowled at Nog. Though her face was a bit dirty and her hair was in disarray, Leeta sat tall, with a proud determination that to Nog proved her Bajoran heritage. "You'd be surprised how much money you can get for them on the black market."
Nog shook his head. "Dad, how did no one know that it was this bad? And how could you let it get so bad?"
"Some, uh, cleverly-placed bribes to local news agents, a few blackouts, uh...some downed satellites," Rom listed, counting on his fingers. "Zek used to do it all the time. He never had as much money as everyone thought he did."
"Whoa!"
A resounding thud followed the cry, and the three looked as Commander Alden hit the floor, falling off the platform in the cell he shared with Nog. The prison guards had left the still-disoriented first officer on the platform when they'd brought him in, and he'd laid there for some time.
Alden got on all fours and looked at the faces peering back, and Nog's hardened glare. "Whew!" he said, sighing. "For a minute I thought I'd gone through a time shift and ended up in the Old West." Then a shadow crossed his face. "Unless we all did...Nog?"
Nog turned from his first officer, not willing to talk to him. It was Alden's fault they were in prison to begin with, and he couldn't imagine what the colonel would say if they ever saw her again. He knew Alden wasn't all together right, but he didn't expect behavior that unstable.
And the worst part was Nog couldn't do anything about it. He could tell Kira, if Kira didn't already know, but he had gone AWOL -- he wasn't even sure if he and Alden would have jobs when they returned.
Not that returning to DS9 seemed a likely possibility at the moment.
"This is srange," Alden said, coming closer to the barred door. "Iron bars...."
"Actually, they're a terrilium carbonic alloy," Rom said.
"Uh-huh," Alden said, gently running his fingers over a bar. "This gap may be too narrow for a Ferengi to fit through, but if it wasn't for this bar here...." Alden touched the middle bar across the gate. "I'd probably be able to get out."
Rom looked aghast. "We should have thought of that when we had them designed."
Nog rolled his eyes. "Dad, we don't have time for that! Think! Maybe there's a weakness we can exploit. We have to get out of here!"
"There is no weakness."
Rom's eyes became cold as he glared across to the cell next to Nog's. Nog followed his father's eyes. "How dare you speak in my presence, Brunt."
The line was so comical it took all of Nog's will not to laugh. His father had never played disciplinarian well -- with the lisp it made it hard to imagine Rom as being cruel.
"You're not the Grand Nagus anymore, I can speak to you as I wish," Brunt replied coolly. "Especially since you're the reason I'm in here!"
"Enough!" Leeta shouted, drowning out Brunt's screaming.
"I'd hate to see the key fits that hole."
Nog glanced at Alden, who was looking at the door's keyhole. Rom and Leeta stared as Alden played carefully with the lock.
Leeta turned back to everyone else. "Fighting is not going to change anything."
"I was simply answering a --"
"Shut up, Brunt," Leeta returned icily.
Brunt sighed. "Now you see what I put up with. It's a wonder they weren't overthrown sooner."
"Shut up, Brunt!" Nog, Leeta and Rom shouted.
"If I had my knife, I could pick this lock," Alden said, clearly not paying attention. The human pulled in close, peering into the hole. "If I had my shooter I could pick this lock."
"Dad, we talked over a week ago. I'm your son. Why couldn't you tell me then?" Nog asked.
Rom couldn't look at Nog. "I just wanted you to think I was succeeding in business for once. I wanted you to be proud of me."
Nog stared at Rom, unable to respond. He had never been disappointed in his father. Certainly he'd spent much of his life in Quark's shadow, but Rom had always been brilliant and resourceful. Nog had always felt he'd inherited his father's best qualities.
"When you were younger, you'd always be off on one profit-seeking scheme after another. You always had Quark's head for business."
"That was years ago, Dad!" Nog said. "And when have I ever said I was disappointed in you? You're the reason I went into Starfleet. I wanted to prove I wasn't just some troublemaker. I wanted to prove I could be more than the typical Ferengi businessman. I wanted to prove I could be like you."
Leeta's eyes shone as she hugged Rom. "I love you, Nog," Rom said gently.
Nog smiled. "I...I love you, Dad."
"I think I'm going to be ill." Brunt called out.
"I got it!"
Nog jumped, nearly tripping over Alden, still bent over the keyhole. "What?" he shouted.
"If we'd had a changeling with us, it could have turned into my knife! Then I could have picked the lock!"
Nog's jaw dropped. He interrupted a family moment for that? "First of all, we don't have a changeling, so why should it matter?!" He shouted.
Alden's eyes grew wide, a look of shock on his face.
"And second," Nog continued. "If we'd had a changeling, why wouldn't it just turn into the key so we wouldn't have to pick the lock?"
"Or," Leeta chimed in, "It could just push right through the bars and get the real key itself."
"And then," Rom said, "It could turn into a Ferengi and help us get out of the Tower."
Alden rolled his eyes, as if every idea they'd presented were some of the most idiotic he'd ever heard. "Sure, if you want to do it the easy way."
Nog whirled toward him and glared. "What?" Alden said. Then he smiled.
"Stop!" Nog shouted.
Brow furrowed, Alden's expression hardened. "Don't take that tone with me, Lieutenant. I'm still your superior." Then his expression changed to worry. "At least until we're executed."
"I wish you'd mentioned bringing a changeling before we left," Nog muttered. "I would have gladly taken one over you."
"Hey, any time you want me off this mission, just let me know!" Alden shouted.
"Thanks for the permission, sir!" Nog shouted back. "How did a freak like you get in Starfleet? How did someone like you rise so prominently! Why hasn't the colonel had you kicked off the station yet! I don't understand!"
Nog plopped onto the platform and tried not to look like an adolescent. An awkward quiet settled onto the cell block, and Nog could feel the commander's eyes on him. Finally Alden leaned up against the platform.
"Sometimes I wonder about that too," he murmured. "I never wanted to be first officer. All I wanted was to be on the Defiant. I got more than I bargained for -- so did everyone else."
Nog glanced at Alden, and the troubled look on his face. "Then why don't you just resign?"
Alden shrugged. "Counselor Dax won't let me, the brass put me here, I like to piss Kira off." A quick smile flitted across his face, soon replaced by worry. "I don't have anywhere else to go. And I'm tired of being a mercenary. It's age, you know. After a while you just want to settle somewhere. It's been a long while for me."
Nog looked away. "Well then maybe you should make a better effort to act...well...."
"More normal?" Alden offered.
"No...well...yes," Nog said with a sigh.
Alden nodded. "I think I'd do better at it if someone would just explain to me what normal is. I don't know anyone who's normal."
"Just..." Nog sighed. "Try to be less evasive. Less...I don't know."
"I'm sure it sounds easy, Lieutenant," Alden said. "I just wish it were. Maybe I should save Kira the trouble of kicking me out. With everything going on with me...but then I'd disappoint Ezri. She's trying so hard to make me better."
Nog's lobes perked at the new information. "What do you mean?"
"I'm a little messed up. It's my past. I...I just don't remember it. And other things," Alden shifted uncomfortably. "That's why I'm...not normal. But I'm scared. I want it all to go away. I just want to move on."
"Problems don't just go away," Nog explained. Looking at his father, he said, "If you don't address them, if you try to hide them, they only get bigger."
The cell was silent for a moment, and then Alden spoke. "I don't think I can fix myself."
Nog glanced back at Alden, head bowed, hands quivering slightly. He smiled. "Everyone can fix what's wrong with them. But only if they really want to." Nog probably understood that all too well. He'd fixed his own problems by joining Starfleet.
Alden looked over, and a grin spread across his face. "Maybe you're right, Lieutenant." He put his hand on Nog's shoulder. "You know, I don't know why you were so upset before. I mean, sure I messed up, but look, we're in the tower, and we're not dead. I guess I proved your plan successful, eh?"
* * * *
"Bring out the prisoners!"
The cry of Grak's chief prison officer rang through the square, echoing off the walls of the Tower of Commerce like thunder, and the huge crowd assembled around the platform roared their appreciation. Quark shifted a little, glad that he had a seat in the Nagal viewing box set upon a perch on the platform, rather than having to stand in the crowd - he had a feeling the crowd was going to cheer loud enough to cause permanent lobe damage.
"Isn't this magnificent, Quark!" Grak eagerly leaned forward from where he sat at Quark's side, elbows creasing the red velvet which coated the front shelf of the box. "The crowd baying for the blood of the traitors, wanting to see them purged from our world… this is what we've fought for -- the rejection of foolishness, and a return to traditional Ferengi ideals. We've won, Quark. We've won." His hand closed around his drink, and Grak took a long, victorious draught.
"Nice of Slug-O-Cola to sponsor the event, too," Quark added, eyeing the banners reading "Slug-O-Cola - perfect for a day out at the executions!" that were hanging from every available piece of wall space.
"Business is getting back on its feet," Grak answered. "With Rom's reforms abolished, things are returning to the way they were. Ferengi businessmen are returning to what they know best."
Quark swigged his own cola. "I'm glad I kept the old rules alive in my bar. It'll mean less disruption now that they're back."
"Indeed. You're a good Ferengi, Quark." Grak turned to him, eyes intent. "I want you to stay here by my side during the ceremony. It'll mean more to the crowd if you deliver your denunciations from here, standing by your Nagus as you watch your brother and nephew being executed. It'll be a message to the people - the businessman who puts profit above family. You'll be an example to every Ferengi in the alliance."
"I hadn't thought of it that way." Quark was silent for a moment.
"It's a shame about the boy, though," Grak mused. "You said that he could've become a good businessman, in your opinion?"
Quark grimaced. "I always thought Nog would take after me. I just don't know where I went wrong."
"It isn't your fault," Grak insisted. "It's the fault of those humans, and their silly, charitable philosophies. If it wasn't for them, this universe would be a much more profitable place. Imagine a universe where the Federation didn't exist - can you see the possibilities?"
"Yes… yes, I can." Quark turned to his Nagus. "Would you mind if I went and spoke to Rom for a moment? I promise I'll be back here in time for the show. Wouldn't want to miss it!"
Grak looked bemused, taking another sip of his cola as an attendant refilled the glass. "What do you wish to talk about?"
Quark's mouth hung agape for a moment as he thought, and then he shrugged. "I'd just like to tell him how I feel before the ceremony itself - that way, he'll get to hear my denunciation twice, which can't hurt? And… and I'd like to wish him mercy from the Divine Exchequer."
"That's a very human gesture."
"I know, forgive me, Grand Nagus," he said, cringing in traditional Ferengi fashion. "I've been around them too long. Besides, when it comes to tallying up his final profits, Rom's going to need all the help he can get."
"True." Grak nodded. "Very well; go see him. But be certain you aren't late for the ceremony."
Quark cringed his thankfulness again before exiting the viewing box and heading for the Tower of Commerce.
* * * *
Nog leaned up against the wall of his cell, ears unconsciously twitching as he listened. His fellow inmates looked listless -- Alden was sitting against the wall in the cell he shared with Nog. The commander had a distinct trace of anger in his eyes, which Nog found slightly unsettling. Rom and Leeta sat together in their cell, holding hands, while Brunt walked around disconsolately in his. Around them, there was no noise except the distant sound of guards walking along the corridor - even the guards posted in front of their cell were silent, not moving a muscle.
"I can't hear anyone else," Nog said, looking down to Alden. "I could before; I could hear people trying to bribe the guards. There's nothing now."
"It's just us left." Rom glanced over to them, voice dulled. "They're saving us for last. The uh, main attraction."
"That makes me feel so special," Brunt muttered darkly, still pacing about the cell.
"I don't. This is all my fault." Rom looked stricken. "I'm going to get us all killed."
"Rom, that isn't true," Leeta whispered, clutching his hand even tighter.
"But this only happened because of what I've done!" he wailed. "Maybe I shouldn't have taken Zek's offer; maybe I should've stayed on Deep Space Nine. I was happy there! And now look what's going to happen!"
Nog was about to speak, when his attention was taken by the noise of someone talking outside the main cell door, someone arguing with the guard in very familiar tones….
"…And if you want my security clearance, go and see the Grand Nagus. And make sure you don't spill his cola." The door opened, and Quark swept through imperiously, leaving a scowling guard in his wake. He strode up to the cells, looked around, and then turned to Rom's cell, as its occupants eyed him suspiciously.
"Hello, brother." Quark's voice was perfectly calm, and Nog almost couldn't believe his ears. "How goes it?"
"Traitor!" Leeta moved up to the front of the cell, glaring furiously - if looks could kill, Quark would've been dead and halfway into the Divine Treasury.
"There's no need to call him that." Alden spoke for the first time in a while, grating through gritted teeth. "I can think of some much better things to call him."
Quark didn't bother looking at the commander. "I'm sure you can. But I'm the one on the right side of the cell door for once."
"What do you want?" It didn't seem like a question; Rom's voice was so soft and dejected as he gazed at his brother that the words almost seemed more like a resigned statement.
"I thought I'd try out my denunciation speech see what kind of reaction it gets. I want to make it good for the crowd, after all - maybe give it a mark out of ten?" Quark looked at the two guards, who stared ahead rigidly. "And you guys, too."
"Step inside this cell, and I'll give you a 'reaction'," Leeta seethed.
Quark slipped his hands into the pockets of his richly-embroidered coat, gazing up at the ceiling as if gathering his thoughts. "I think the introduction needs some work, first of all. It needs a little bit of bang…."
There was a sudden burst of fire, the noise making Nog instinctively shut his eyes. When he opened them again, the two guards were slumped face-down on the floor with Quark standing above them, a disruptor in both hands and a shocked look on his face.
"That's more like it."
"Brother!" Rom stood up, still looking worried. "What are you doing?"
"What does it look like? I'm rescuing you. Again." Quark aimed at the locking controls on the cell door and fired; they fizzled out of existence in a puff of smoke, as the cellmates leaped to their feet. "I'm getting used to breaking you out of a cell with a disruptor."
"Maybe you should join Starfleet, uncle," Nog replied, unable to keep a grin off his face.
Quark scowled as he turned and blew out the lock on Nog's cell. "Don't push your luck."
"But I don't understand," Rom said, puzzled. "You, uh, don't agree with my ideas. And I bet Grak offered you plenty of power and latinum…."
Quark shook his head. "You must have forgotten the old Rules when you rewrote them, Brother," Quark surmised. "Rule of Acquisition Number 48 - the bigger the smile, the sharper the knife." He turned to the group. "Now listen carefully; I'm not sure how much time we've got before they come for you. I've been finding out what they did with my ship - it's still in one piece, fortunately," he emphasized, directing another glare at Nog, "and it's in a hangar on the outskirts of the city, along with another ship. We've got to get there as soon as possible, get away from here."
"No." Rom stood absolutely still, and everyone turned to look at him. "I'm not going."
Alden moved a little closer. "What do you mean, you're not going?"
Rom looked up at the commander. "I'm still the Nagus…uh, no matter what Grak says. He's killing my supporters out there - I've got to save them." He folded his arms resolutely.
"Really?" Alden questioned, stepping up to Rom. "And just how are you going to do that, when Grak has an entire planet full of loyal troops and a crowd of bloodthirsty citizens? There's probably more disruptors outside this tower than you've ever seen in your life; you won't even make it to the prisoners."
"I'm still the Nagus," Rom repeatedly stubbornly. "I'll think of something."
"Oh, great," Quark muttered.
Alden sighed. "I'm not going to let you get yourself killed - you haven't even had the training for this sort of thing. Besides, you're more important alive than dead." He turned to face Quark. "Take everyone to the ships, and get into orbit. I'll go and free the others."
Nog moved forward. "I'm coming with you."
"Not a chance," Alden replied firmly. "We're going to need a good pilot to get us out of here; I can't risk you being injured. Plus, if I come back and you don't, Kira will put the nail in my coffin for good. Besides, Quark could use a hand."
"But --"
Quark handed a disruptor to Nog, silencing his protests. "You're coming with me, Nephew. I can't take care of all the guards on my own, can I?"
"You don't need me." Rom stepped forward again. "I'm going to free my people whether you like it or not."
"And me too." Leeta folded her arms exactly as Rom had.
"But you'll be killed!" Alden spoke through gritted teeth again.
"Maybe, maybe not. I've already got an idea," Rom said proudly. "And it's a good one, too."
"Okay, okay! You can both come with me." Alden strode to one of the fallen guards, stooping to grab the discarded disruptor. "This will go just swimmingly," he muttered under his breath, before turning back to the group. "So if we're finished with the discussions, can we go?"
"Um, excuse me!"
Five pairs of eyes moved back to the cell where Brunt stood, gracefully brushing down his jacket, still locked up.
"Yes?" Nog asked impatiently.
The Ferengi scuttled forward. "I'm sorry to interrupt all this wonderful conversation, but I appear to have been overlooked. And, as I'm sure you know, all I want to do is be of use to Grand Nagus Rom." He put on a simpering smile. "What would you have me do?"
"Why you little…." Leeta answered fiercely, Rom instinctively holding her back. Brunt cowered in his cell at the towering red-head coming his way. "You tried to switch sides when Grak took over! And now that Rom's your only chance of getting out of prison, you want to serve him again?"
Brunt looked shocked, cringing to the point where he was almost on his knees. "But I was always loyal to his Nagusness! I was merely trying to trick my way into Grak's confidence to find a way to save you! You can trust me!"
Quark snorted. "I'd rather trust a security officer."
"What about all you've said while we've been in here? 'It's a wonder they weren't overthrown sooner,' wasn't it?" Leeta's hands moved to her hips.
"Ah." Brunt looked like he was desperately scraping for an explanation. "There was a really, really good reason for all that… I just can't remember what it was, at the moment. I'm sure it'll come to me later, once we're on the ship."
"Forget it." Nog turned his back and grabbed a disruptor.
"Hold on a moment," Alden protested, ignoring Brunt's gasp of outrage. "He might be useful."
"You don't know him as well as we do, Commander," Nog explained. He walked over to the security guard's desk where possessions were usually kept, grabbing Alden's shooter and knife and tossing them to him. The disruptors were gone, not surprisingly. "All he's good for is stabbing people in the back."
"You'll be sorry!" Brunt shouted, grasping the cell bars until his knuckles turned white. "I'll make you pay for what you've done! I'll make sure that --"
He was cut off as a disruptor beam hit his chest, and Brunt slumped to the floor. Nog turned to face Quark, who showed him that the pistol was on a stun setting.
"Sorry. I've always wanted to do that."
Alden shifted irritably. "Are we finished now?"
Everyone looked at each other. Nog heaved a sigh. "Yep, I think so."
* * * *
It looked so different now, standing on the marketplace platform. The last time he'd stood here, he was a lowly DaiMon.

But Grak had seen the platform from high above the Tower of Commerce, as the Grand Nagus of the Ferengi Alliance. And it all seemed so different. He even felt...taller.
Around his viewing box stood his military, ready to do his will. No bribe was necessary; these well-respected Ferengi soldiers had been part of cuts under Rom's leadership, and their money used to feed the lazy and dimwitted -- the poor.
Needless to say, they were more than ready to see the change in leadership and, as far as Grak could tell, so was the crowd gathered around the platform, waiting for the execution to commence.
Normally the executioner and leader gave criminals the chance to bribe their way out of death. But for Grak, that was not an option. The members of Rom's regime had committed treason against the Ferengi society, and sought to destroy the very foundation it was built on -- the Rules of Acquisition. A lesson must be taught, a lesson that would be passed down from Ferengi to Ferengi for all time.
His army turned, drawing disruptors, fired weapons. Down went a row of staunch Rom supporters. Another row was brought up; another row was cut down by disruptor fire.
The death was gruesome, and un-Ferengi like for such a crime. Normally the condemned were thrown from the Tower of Commerce. But it was necessary, as Grak had said in his opening speech. "It is gruesome to watch, seeing the faces in the process of dying. It's more horrifying than looking at their crumpled body on the ground after a long fall. But you must not avert your eyes. Look upon the faces of the condemned, see the shame in their eyes. They are dishonored, and their souls shall know no financial prosperity. So look upon them, and learn from their mistakes."
And the audience listened. Even the smallest lobeling did not turn away.
Quickly the traitors were cut down. The main event was only minutes away.
"Have you seen Quark?" Grak asked his aide.
"No, sir," the underling said with a cringe.
Grak frowned. Rom's brother had promised to return in time for the main event, but it'd been hours since Grak has seen him. His suspicion grew, and finally Grak couldn't take it any longer.
"Find him," Grak barked at his aide. "Bring him before me."
Just as the aide bowed and scuttled towards the tower, disruptor fire rang out, bouncing off the halls of the entrance way. The crowd stopped and looked to the tower, and Grak's eyes left his firing squad.
Grak's lobes picked up a faint screaming, then a crash. Troops scrambled out of the entrance way, followed by Rom, disruptor in hand, screaming like a tokka beetle. Grak felt a surge of annoyance and anger -- annoyance that the sniveling ex-nagus couldn't accept his fate, and anger that Grak had actually trusted Quark. He had no business quoting Rules of Acquisition when he didn't follow them himself. I will learn from this mistake, he thought.
"It's not your time, Rom. You need to wait your turn at the firing squad," Grak said whimsically, drawing laughter and snickers from the crowds. Good. Grak smiled. They already don't respect him.
Rom looked at the dead on the platform and howled. "What kind of Ferengi are you? Did you even let them try to bribe you?"
Grak stood and left the box, walking towards Rom. "I don't attribute Ferengi ideals to those who are not Ferengi -- like these traitors!" Grak pointed at the bodies and the prisoners waiting for execution. He reached Rom and spat in the simpering idiot's face. "Or you," he seethed. "Guards, finish him now. I can't take any more of his whining."
Simultaneously, all disruptors were pointed at Rom. Grak let out a low chuckle and turned to the crowd. It was a little early in the festivities, and Quark was no longer here to publicly denounce his brother, but Grak was sure he could come up with something creative to say. "My fellow Ferengi --"
"If you kill me," Rom's voice drowned Grak's. "You'll never save Ferengi society."
Grak turned slowly, feeling his lobes flush in anger. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"You won't save Ferengi society without the treasure of Grand Nagus Zek."
Grak stopped, unsure he understood. "What treasure? Have you been hiding something?"
Rom looked around. "Uh...sort of."
Grak's eyes widened in mock surprise. "So, there's some Ferengi in you after all."
"I'm all Ferengi, Grak," Rom said coldly.
"Hiding a treasure...where is it? Tell me."
"You wouldn't know what to do with it if you had it," Rom shot back.
Grak snapped his fingers, and the guards grasping Rom's arms squeezed a little tighter.
"Not until you let my people go," Rom shouted through the pain. "Then I'll tell you whatever you want to know."
Grak threw his head back and laughed. "And why would I trust you? Obviously your brother betrayed me...your whole family is full of traitors and liars."
"Trust is the biggest liability of all," Rom quoted.
"You have no business quoting the Rules you tried to change," Grak seethed.
"And what kind of Ferengi are you to judge other Ferengi?" he replied, flushed with anger. "So Quark lied. We do that. It's our nature. Why did you trust him? Maybe you're not the true Ferengi here."
"Tell me where the treasure of Grand Nagus Zek is or I will liquidate you all right now!" Grak shouted.
"Let my people go!"
"Never!" Rom smiled. "You could never hope to harness Grand Nagus Zek's treasure for the good of Ferengi society! You don't deserve it!"
Eyes burning with anger, Grak stamped his foot. "Guards! I've had enough of this traitor's banter! Kill him!"
Rom closed his own eyes, waiting. Grak smiled to the growing whine of disruptors powering up.
Suddenly a soldier came crashing to the floor, screaming in pain and grabbing a small dart which dissolved almost immediately. Then another, and another. Disruptor fire rifled through the platform, and the crowd scrambled to get out of its way. Grak looked from one end of the platform to the other, saw no one.
"Grak?"
Grak turned and felt a fist hit his face, though not very hard. He stumbled, saw Rom grasping his hand in pain. Grak countered, striking Rom square in the stomach. Rom hit the ground, and Grak slammed on top of him. Rom rolled to his left, taking Grak with him.
"You're out of your league, you stuttering fool," Grak hissed. Rom punched him in the face, wincing in pain once again. Grak laughed. "If the treasure of Grand Nagus Zek was what brought you to power, I'm certain I don't want it," Grak said with a smile. "Zek must have been a fool to let a dimwitted, unindustrious, sniveling little grub like yourself become Grand Nagus. I don't need a fool's wisdom."
The look on Rom's face was priceless -- a look of horrible revelation. Grak was delighted. Taking the opportunity, he rolled to his right, pinning Rom to the ground. Grak punched Rom in his lobe, and Rom howled. "That was a low blow," Rom wheezed.
Grak laughed. "And it will be the last thing you remember before I kill you." He grinned.
But then Rom smiled. "Maybe not."
Suddenly Rom's body began to dematerialize, disintegrate and disappear. Grak, now hanging slightly off the ground, fell to the platform with a thud. The disruptor fire that had filled the area had stopped.
Disorientated, Grak stood. The prisoners still alive were gone. Rom was gone.
"No!" Grak shouted. "It's not fair! Come back here, you coward! You sniveling little...."

Chapter Five
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