Note: A bit after my usual Sunday deadline but let's pretend it's Central Time and not Eastern here. We get into more goofy plot stuff. I took some liberties with the existing timeline being that this is an imperfect parallel universe. I did the same for Platonius as well so my apologies if any of these divergences rub canon purists the wrong way. I had fun with this, it was an interesting what if regarding Nog's character development in this universe so here's hoping it worked. Thank you all who've stuck it out this long, there's still a crapton more to come. C&C is always welcome!
The first thing she does when she sees him is slap his face. The second is a near suffocating hug as she breathes hard and deep. He fingers dig into his back hard, her arms shaking.
"Moogie-"
"Don't you dare 'Moogie' me." She doesn't easily let him go but he allows her to hold on tightly for as long as she needs. He shifts from one foot to the other as her breathing calms down, and he starts again with a softer, more chastened tone.
"Moogie..." He trails that entreaty off, letting her pick up the conversation as she lets go of him and stands up straight. She is still a few inches taller than he is and she brings every bit of that height to a maternal bear when she crosses her arms, a deep frown on her face.
It is late. The chime of one has only recently gone off from the hanging wall clock. The door was opened a hesitant crack at first, only to be practically thrown into the wall pocket when the identity of the man on the other side was revealed. He was not ushered inside, but rather yanked violently by the long sleeve of the thick poncho, no sound uttered beyond that slap until the few spoken words. The Ferengi looks down at his feet for a moment unable to look at her directly. There is another awkward shuffle that follows as he clasps his hands behind his back, at ease, the beginning of a debriefing for a senior officer. His eyes still track the floor, a small twitch the only sign of his lingering nerves. He does not hide the wince when she speaks again, her feet crossing closer to him.
"I thought you were dead," is the simply spoken rebuke that is devoid of tears, but not of suffering, not of anger.
He again doesn't answer her right away, taking the time to clear his throat uncomfortably, and making a study of the wooden slats of the floor.
"That was the plan. That had to be the plan," he corrects as he looks at her bare feet. There is further explanation, but he does not offer it immediately until there is a sigh followed by the drop of clothing on the floor. It is only with that pile appearing, a thin silky ball of fabric, that he looks at her more at ease but not less guilty.
"You don't think you're a bit old for this, Nog?" Leeta sighs, the words spoken with familiar repetition as he smiles and shakes his head. "You know I wouldn't do this for anyone else," she continues as she picks the nightgown up and folds it carefully. "You're such a spoiled brat, I don't know why I put up with you." Leeta places the folded gown on the cushioned seat in front of the vanity.
"Because you love me, Moogie," Nog chimes in with a child's smug smile worn on a man's face.
"Have you eaten?" Leeta asks him. "I can fry up some calamari if you want it. I try keep some frozen for when you come back and visit... But if you think I'm gonna chew it for you, you can stuff that thought in a sack and bury it." His eyes light up a moment and he almost looks eager to accept before he pauses, an inward turn making him sigh deeply.
"I don't have time, Moogie. You're the only one that I could come to now." She is immediately sober at that thought, going to the door to check the lock. Nog seems to suddenly take notice of the changes tot he room. "Is everything okay? I saw the extra security. Has something happened? Has she come here already?" He looks anxious as Leeta turns back around, his fingers going beneath the poncho as if for a weapon.
"No this is..." Leeta stops and looks at the door one last time. "...I thought it would be a good selling point for our rooms. You know we get all types through here and whey if I can get extra business with double security why not, right?"
He looks relieved.
"Good. That's good then... But I saw the man today who is renting the building. He is a wanted man. The bounty that I saw-"
"It's not him," Leeta is quick to cut him off. "His name is Garak."
"That man on the poster was named Marritza..." Nog looks at her shrewdly. "Like that Marritza that you used to talk about."
"It's not him," she insists firmly. "And neither is the man on the poster. He's dead." She says the words with a slight falter.
"Ah, then that is good. You can renew your marriage contract with Father now." He doesn't notice the slight flicker across her face at those words.
"You know it's not that simple," she forces out with a small indulgent smile.
"Of course it is. You always used to tell me you and he had a prior arrangement. Well a dead man can't renew a contract so surely you can-"
"Nog..."
"If it is about my father's assets I would gladly add enough to make it a better offer. Only the best for my Moogie," he throws in with a toothy smile that she turns away from. Leeta holds up a hand as she slowly walks to a sofa and lights an oil lamp next to it illuminating the small sitting area.
"I'm not talking about this now," she declares and with one look at her face he opens his mouth then quickly closes it.
"Right." His expression sobers as he looks down, regarding his own clothing once more. "Right, there is business to be discussed and time is of the essence as the hoo-mans say." He takes a seat on a large easy chair across from the sofa sinking into it with familiarity.
He lifts a foot, nearly putting it on the coffee table but stays that gesture with a glare from Leeta.
"Why haven't you told your father and Jake that you're alive?"
"Who says that I haven't?" he answers automatically with a defensive draw of his shoulders. Leeta snorts.
"Because Rom hasn't come banging at the door and Jake isn't nearly a good enough actor to..." She trails off regarding him warily. "What have you gotten yourself caught up with, Nog?" She uses the same voice as she had years again for so many schemes cooked up between her adopted son and Jake Sisko.
"Profit!" He answers effusively to her cross expression.
"Nog-"
"Hear me out, Moogie." That excitement dims just enough for her to stop and listen carefully. "This isn't a proposition. This isn't a business venture or anything else," he adds quickly. "This is... so much more... So much more than I ever imagined when I entered Starfleet."
"I'm listening, Nog, but I don't think I'm gonna like the sound of this."
"The sound is profit, Moogie. Profit beyond profit, Latinum as far as the eye can see. And all I need to do to claim it as mine is to stay alive." That last bit is added with just a touch of a dramatic flair that she knows he had to have picked up from Jake.
"Okay, Mister, I think you're gonna have to start from the beginning with this one.
"I'll tell you everything, Moogie, but I need to know." He looks nervously to the walls. "Is it safe to talk?" She nods.
"Rom insisted on securing everything in my room, nothing would get him to even start to touch his but... you know your father."
"Yes, a good man. You won't find a better prospect for a marriage contract I..." He squirms under her sharp look. "I... will continue with my explanation, yes.
"Red Squad," he begins dramatically with an expansive wave of his hands. "I couldn't believe that they had selected me, me to be in the most elite group of cadets at the Academy. You know how honored I was, what that meant to me to be accepted after I worked so hard just to get into Starfleet at all."
"You know I was worried sick about you that entire time." At this he hesitates before looking down at the table.
"I was fine you know. I didn't have any trouble."
"I believe that like I believe your uncle is an honest businessman. But I also know better than to worry about it now."
"No crying over spilled bovine secretions," Nog agrees, a grin accompanying that small inside joke shared between him and Jadzia Dax. "And you're right. You should not... worry about it now. Even what I am about to tell you.
"There is a war that is about to begin. This is classified information. Even that much I shouldn't tell you and... and whatever happens to the Federation, to the Cardassians or whoever I don't... No... I know they would never come here. What we encountered is considered an anomaly. A strange disruption between ours and the Gamma Quadrant... Of course the Prophets would not allow such evil to pass through," Nog says mostly to himself as he reaches up and absently fingers a Bajoran earring. "No, the Prophets would not allow such evil. But you have always told me the ways they work are unknown, that they only reveal what we are ready to know. And what I haven't told you Moogie is what happened during that mission on the Valiant."
"Oh ho, don't tell me there's more to that? I thought you already told me everything. How you were attacked by Cardassians for invading their space, how it was only by the will of the Prophets that you cadets even made it back from that mission alive or, how about Starfleet not even telling me you were missing! I didn't even hear about any of this until you came back!"
"You know communications between Starfleet and Central aren't perfect."
"But you said there's more," she presses, not allowing any diversion even with that sudden vent.
"What I'm going to tell you cannot leave this room." He leans in. "You cannot tell anyone. Please, Moogie. You're the only one who can help me now."
"You know I always have your back, Nog. Whatever you need," she agrees without hesitation.
"What I never told you... what I never told anyone before except Jake is what happened after Captain Ramirez and the rest of the officers were killed, and who really attacked us. Captain Ramirez appointed Captain Watters to command the ship and we continued our mission. It wasn't the Cardassians. They were already destroyed when we found their ship. The force responsible was unlike anything we had ever encountered and I cannot... I cannot say anything else. We gave a full report to Starfleet and they assured us that they'll be investigating the anomaly.
But we escaped. And we completed the mission. But before we completed the mission we found ourselves at the coordinates where Platonius was rumored to have existed. And that was were we discovered it. It was Kironide. But not the Kironide recorded and studied by Starfleet Medical. It was Platonian Kironide. It was the radical isotope. It was the stuff of legends. It was... priceless..." Nog's eyes light up almost feverishly at this as he continues his explanation in a rush. "No, not priceless. Everything has a price. And the price on true Platonian Kironide... the profit in such a discovery could hardly be measured! Can you imagine, just a few ounces alone could be worth a brick of latinum alone. And we found a vein on a dead moon, an entire vein of it! My crew mates had no familiarity with mining, and they didn't think there was any way to harvest it without sophisticated mining lasers, but I spent enough time with Chief O'Brien and those fools who visit the mines that I was able to refit one of the lasers to a crude miner.
"It destroyed a lot of what we were harvesting but even then, we had enough. We had almost a ton. Captain Watters ordered us to destroy the moon and I was afraid there might be a mutiny but it was too big a risk to leave such a thing for anyone else to find. Platonian Kironide is what was said to give the Platonians their telekenetic abilities and Moogie... it does! We tested it ourselves. I know... I know it was dangerous but the profits..."
"The Prophets would have you leave those things alone and you know it."
"I couldn't leave it, I just couldn't," he pleads, and she sees the shining of his eyes, Ferengi coming to the forefront and she just sighs and takes his hands across the table.
"Where is it now Nog? And why are you here pretending to be dead instead of living it up on Risa?" He squeezes her hands, that excitement dying down quickly.
"Karen Farris," he says simply and Leeta waits for him to continue when she lets go of his hands. He rubs his palms nervously on the fabric of the poncho. "We had to dead drop it on Westworld-"
"You what?!" Nog holds his ears with a pained wince.
"We didn't have any other choice!" he insists trying to clear his head from the shrill exclamation. "There isn't anywhere else in the Alpha Quadrant that it would be safe except here! You know that ships can't land for cargo, no one else can retrieve it unless they use the drill, it was the only way to ensure that no one..." He takes a deep breath. "We took an oath... Those of us who were left. There were only eleven of us by then. The heroes of the Valiant," he says bitterly. "Heroes... You told me the Prophets reward our suffering, Moogie. I believe that. Surely I'll be guaranteed to go to the Divine Treasury with this reward. And I've never forgotten what you've taught me about being fair and equitable. So I proposed that instead of my getting ninety percent of the profit since I was the one who made it possible to mine that we leave the entire bounty for the last one of us alive.
"It is an ancient Earth custom that I studied. They called in a ton-teen. I had considered that the Prophets had already favored me, so naturally I would be the longest lived of all of us. I wouldn't trust another Ferengi not to just hire an Eliminator, but hoo-mans in Starfleet are too good for that... at least that's what I thought," he grumbles to himself, oblivious in his narrative to Leeta's long suffering deep frown.
"Karen Farris," she repeats in a knowing voice. "I don't even know where to start with you, Nog."
"We dropped the cargo safely. I was able to get a container from cousin Gaila without too many questions, you know he has to dead drop sometimes with his business so the container was fine. It landed... It landed. We secured a location on the west continent in the Thrandian Caverns. It's safe. We made sure of that. And we locked the box with eleven keys. The lock on that box is the fusion lock that Chief O'Brien created; no one will be able to open it without the keys and anyone who tries to pick it will break it shut for good. Each of us has a key that can only be released when we die. That was five years ago. Three years ago Shepherd was killed. I didn't think anything of it. It was just a lift accident. His key went to Captain Watters. Then Enders was killed a few months later and her key went to Collins. Then Daywal, then Laxis, then Tam, and finally Auren."
"That's only ten."
"Neem went into hiding. There's five of us now. I can't prove it but it has to be Farris. She's the only one with the access and the knowledge to have engineered the accidents that killed the others. I'm almost afraid Captain Watters might be next but I haven't been able to get to him. She's always with him whenever I've seen him."
"Are you they're not working together?" Quick, adaptable, her mind is already working as she studies the table.
"I can't imagine a man as honorable as Captain Watters would ever do such a thing or even condone it if he knew. No, he has to be next, I'm sure of it."
"There's no honor amongst thieves," she reminds him with a shake of her head. "Where are your keys, Nog? You should have two then, right?"
"Right." His eyes dart to the window, shutters pulled tight as if he could see through them to the rest of the town.
"They're in the shop right now. Three of them will be coming. Neem will stay in hiding. I haven't spoken to him in over a year now and I haven't seen him in nearly two. He hasn't stepped out even to claim the key that should've been his. No, it will just be the three of them. And you and I know that without a body they can't disperse the will that easily. That's still the law here And I'm still a citizen of Westworld first. They'll have to wait even with the documents that Starfleet sent. But I know whoever's behind this won't. We'll see how they come, and we'll see who searches for the key first. They're hidden. They won't be found so easily."
"And where do I come in then? I'm not a killer, Nog. Prophets help me I'll defend you with my life but I sure hope that's not what you're asking me because-"
"I need you to be my eyes, Moogie. I need you to see what I can't. I need to know what's going on. There's a door upstairs at the end of the hall that's only to be opened once the time has passed. In that room is a box on a center pedestal with two keys in it. But those aren't the keys. You can tell as soon as you see them. If you open the door by the instructions it will guide you there and the top of the pedestal will reveal the location of the true keys. But if you don't..."
"If you don't..." she echoes feeling inexplicably anxious.
"Then as you always say, Moogie, it is in the hands of the Prophets."
