Chapter 1: Dangling

Jake Sisko sat at his desk in Mrs. O'Brien's classroom, waiting for the class to begin. He peered around him at the other students, all of different age ranges. Jake thought it must be hard for Mrs. O'Brien to teach such a range of students of different ages and different species, even, but she always managed to find a way. While thirteen-year-old Jake had never been much of a fan of school, he was glad that if he had to go, Keiko O'Brien would be his teacher.

Jake awkwardly thumbed his PADD on the desk in front of him, listening to the engaged chatter of the students around him. Since none of the other students were really his age, Jake didn't know who to talk to and about what, but he didn't want to just sit alone and quiet. Jake turned around to look at the students around him, hoping to find someone to begin a conversation with, just so he could feel included. There was one student—Jake thought his name was Krilik—who sat in the back, also silent. But he was entirely focused on voraciously licking the Bajoran Jumja stick in his hand with no worries in the world. Or the station. Jake sighed and turned back in his seat. Where's Nog? he thought, looking at the vacant desk before his, where his best friend was supposed to sit. He's gonna be late…

"Quiet down, class." Jake looked over to Mrs. O'Brien who was trying to get the class to settle down. "It's time to begin!" she tried again, her hands clasped in front of her. The talkative students didn't cease their chatter at her request. Jake was the only student who sat quietly and attentively waiting for class to begin.

Jake noticed Mrs. O'Brien walk over to the lighting controls and press a button. As the lights dimmed, the students immediately stopped talking. Even though the effect had worked with Jake many times before, when he actually thought about it, it never ceased to amaze him how just turning the lights off could calm the excited students while an imploring teacher couldn't.

Mrs. O'Brien turned to lights back on and took her place in the front of the classroom, where she peered at the students sitting quietly at their desks. "Well, that's better!" she said. "But, we need to be more quiet next time, ok?" She gave the students an encouraging smile, and with their nods of assent and after telling Krilik he needed to dispose of his Jumja stick, she turned to the board and began her lecture.

Right then, Nog burst into the room, PADD under one arm, Ferengi headwear lopsided. He quickly scurried to his desk, an expression on his face like he hoped beyond hope that Mrs. O'Brien wouldn't notice.

Of course, she did. "Nog, where have you been?"

Nog's eyes widened at her question. "Um, I-I was just caught behind some people in the Promenade. They were crowding around for—some reason…"

"Oh, really? We should see what's going on—"

"No!" Nog said, a little too quickly. Then, at the curious expression on Mrs. O'Brien's face, he said, slower. "No, the—uh—whatever they were looking at is gone now."

Jake rolled his eyes at his friend's attempt at getting off the hook. If he would just tell the truth, maybe he wouldn't get in trouble. Lying never helped anything, Jake had learned. But Nog was a Ferengi, and Jake had heard that the Ferengi believed if you didn't get caught lying, there was nothing wrong with the immoral act.

Mrs. O'Brien looked like she wouldn't take it. "Nog, just try to be on time tomorrow." With that said, she turned back to the board and continued her lecture on the parts of an atom.

After a moment of Nog settling himself into place, Jake leaned forward and straightened the crooked headgear that rested on the back of the Ferengi's large head. He thought he would do his friend a favor. "Nog," he whispered.

Nog turned his head slightly so that he could better hear Jake but that, if Mrs. O'Brien turned around, it would look like he was paying attention.

"Where were you for real?"

Nog gave a small sigh. "My uncle was yelling at me," he admitted, pain filling his voice. Jake felt bad for him—he wouldn't want someone like Quark yelling at him, and he never liked it when his father gave him a lecture he didn't want to hear.

"About what?" Jake asked. He couldn't help that he was curious.

Nog glanced over to Mrs. O'Brien, who was about to turn away from the board and ask a question of the class. She would surely notice Nog and Jake talking at that point.

"Look—I'll tell you later," Nog said. Besides not wanting to get caught by the teacher, he didn't want to talk about it right now anyway.

Jake nodded and settled back in his seat. He hoped everything was ok with his devious Ferengi friend.

~/~/~/~/~/~

Jake Sisko and Nog sat on the edge of the upper level of the Promenade, legs dangling above the pedestrian's heads. They leaned against the railing supports beside them, letting the structures hold some of their weight. When there was nothing else to do aboard Deep Space Nine, Nog and Jake just sat there and watched the passersby, Nog sometimes throwing small objects at the aliens below. While Jake thought their surprised and angry expressions were kind of funny, he didn't throw anything at them, himself. He just wasn't as brave as Nog, he supposed.

"So, do you wanna tell me about what happened this morning?" Jake asked his friend. Nog had been in a dismal mood all day and Jake was just itching to know what could make his usually upbeat friend so depressed.

Nog glared down at the vendors and their customers, staying silent for a moment. Then, he sighed. "My uncle yelled at me. He told me I was useless and that my lobes would never be big enough for profitable business."

Jake wanted to say, Come on, Nog, this came from Quark! but he didn't. That would be too mean. He knew that there was something in Nog that looked up to that Ferengi and Jake didn't want to hurt Nog any further than he already was.

Instead, Jake asked, "Well, what made him say that?" He hoped he could help his friend through this.

Nog raised his arms and clenched his red-toned hands around the railing above him while swinging his legs. While the railing above their heads didn't support the young teens as they sat there on the edge of the upper level, they didn't care. It was something to do. "Well, I was helping out in Uncle Quark's this morning, and I—well, I kinda spilled a drink on one of the customers…"

"Quark keeps his bar open even in the mornings?" Jake asked, surprised to hear this bit of information.

Nog looked at him as if he had grown three heads. "Well, yes. There's latinum to be had at all hours of the day!"

Jake shook his head and looked back down at the passersby. A strange alien with very large feet lumbered by. "So…anyway, then what happened?" he asked.

Nog, seeing the alien, started looking around on the floor of the upper level for something. Then, finding a perfect little renegade bead, he picked it up and tossed it at the alien's head. It bounced off his head, and the alien looked up and shook its fist at the boys. The gesture was universally understood: he wasn't happy about their meddling around. Jake started to laugh and Nog joined in. It was nice to hear Nog laugh today.

The alien then shuffled off, no doubt realizing that it would only take him another twenty minutes to actually get up to the upper level and tell the boys what for. With the passing by of the large-footed alien, Nog continued to talk.

"So then, the customer complained—you see, the drink was hot, and I didn't know it, I thought it was cold, and that's what made me spill it 'cuz it hurt my hands real bad—and he told Uncle Quark, and Uncle Quark yelled at me. So I had to clean up the mess and that's what made me late."

Jake nodded his understanding. "Well, why didn't you tell that to Mrs. O'Brien? It would've been a lot easier than lying."

Nog looked over at Jake. "Are you kidding?" he hissed. "I'm not telling her I made a mistake and my uncle told me I don't have the lobes for financial prosperity!"

Jake thought it was funny how Nog only knew big words that had to do with money. He nodded and the two boys looked back down at the frequenters of the Promenade.

After sitting together in dismal silence, Jake spoke up. "Well, why don't we prove Quark wrong?" he suggested.

Nog looked up at this, a flicker of hope in his eyes.

"How can we do that?" he asked.

"I don't know, maybe set up our own business?"

Nog shook his head. "No, hew-mon, who will buy from some kids like us?"

"Tons of people! People love kids like us! They would buy anything we would sell!"

Nog was still doubtful. "What would we sell? We have nothing. And we couldn't charge them latinum for it. Latinum is the only thing that would make Uncle Quark see that I'm useful for Ferengi business."

Jake could see his point. They both sat on the edge of the upper level of the Promenade, stumped. They swung their legs back and forth slightly, enjoying the feel.

Then, Nog turned his head to face Jake. "I know! We can steal latinum from the customers who have won at Dabo! All we have to do is, when they're not looking—"

Jake stopped Nog's enthusiastic idea with a swift shake of his head. "I'm not stealing anything. And we've done that before, remember?"

Nog thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "We have done that before," he confirmed, that dismal tone sneaking into his voice again. "But I know I need latinum to really prove myself to him. To any Ferengi."

"Why is latinum so important to Ferengis?" Jake asked, mistakenly adding the usual English plural marker to the word.

"No, the question is, why is latinum so unimportant to hew-mons?" Nog was just as confused about human fascinations as Jake was confused with Ferengi fascinations.

They both sat thoughtfully for another moment.

Then, Nog spoke up. "Jake, I have the perfect idea!"

Jake looked over at Nog excitedly. "What?" he asked.

"We can steal some of Uncle Quark's latinum, show it to him, like we earned it, then give it back without him even knowing! That way, we won't really be stealing and we'll prove I'm not so useless as he thinks I am! What do you say?"

Jake looked at Nog a little uncomfortably. "But, it is stealing."

"Not if Uncle Quark doesn't know," Nog said.

"Yes, it's still stealing whether he knows or not!"

"You have a lot to learn, hew-mon! Uncle Quark won't even know!"

"But, won't you want to keep the latinum?"

Nog shrugged. "We'll see what happens."

Jake shook his head. "I don't know…" he said uncertainly.

"Look, are you with me, or not?"

Before Jake could answer, the two boys heard a voice right behind them.

"Mr. Sisko, Nog," it said, warningly.

Oh, great, Jake thought. Odo.

"Haven't I told you boys no dangling?"

Nog started to get up, and Jake thought he should, too. "But, Constable, we aren't doing any harm!"

"That's not what I've been told," Odo said, gruffly. His arms were folded across his chest, a sign he wasn't going to budge. It seemed like someone had tattled on the boys, probably that big-footed alien. Jake knew that look on the shapeshifter's ambiguous face: it was either leave, or be dragged away.

"Come on, Nog, let's go," Jake said. Nog didn't protest. He was done with getting lectured for one day.

As the two walked off, Odo shaking his head behind them, Nog asked, "So, is that a yes?"

Jake thought over Nog's gloom that day. "Fine," Jake said. "If it will make you feel better."

Nog smiled and skipped off to the spiral stairs that led off of the upper level and down to the bustling Promenade.