JMJ

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Final Questioning

Migoosh had no contact with Traymak. At the moment she had no contact with anyone. The communications had been sabotaged before her eyes. Not that she ever would have used them to try to contact him. It was useless to contact him that way even if one wanted to, but she had been trying to get through to a contact in Lagoran that Traymak had told her about.

The time had finally come to reveal what they knew. She had had to warn them not to react to the sabotage the way the Keeoopii desired them to. It was not the Hidden Profiters. It was no Ferengi at all, except for those who had allowed themselves to be merged with the parasites. However, it had taken time to have a legitimate excuse to get into the Tower of Commerce upper levels even supposedly merged as she was pretending as Ilgaina.

It had not been enough.

She had been pursued. Brunt's relentless suspicions were upon her. No doubt she had been spied upon, though she doubted her pursuers were the same as the spies. One of those pursuers, a Nausicaan, had broken the transmition station. He had nearly taken her arm off with it as she tumbled backwards in a flip that she never could have imitated afterwards. She never left the corner she had fallen into. The Nausicaan and his kindred spirit had given up going after her too.

And now…

She was not fully certain what had happened, but the Nausicaans— both of them were dead. Not a flicker of life came from within their great boxy chests, which was quite in contrast to the slim Migoosh. Bruised and holding her breath as she listened, she felt so very much alive. She felt more keenly aware of her state of simply living than when she had escaped the control of the Keeoopii, more alive than when she first knew that her daughter was conceived, more alive than when she was first run away with Meegs for a supposedly better future of Ferenginar and when she thought he loved her and that his passion was the fire of life.

Aside from herself and the power still surging through the walls though unable to reach the transmition station now, what she heard was the softest sound of rain. The fire rain still? No, it came from outside the nearby window, high above the floor like a porthole in a submarine to another world, another universe, in fact, but where she had been had been beyond all reckoning.

The River?

Yes, the River, she thought. It wasn't a dream.

Now felt more like a dream than what she had just experienced; though what that was exactly she could not have repeated well to anyone.

She wondered on and off again if the rain she heard was still the fire-rain that took her from the horror of the Nausicaans crushing her like a Krokatwa snapping its prey. But it was just ordinary cleansing rain. She felt that she had nearly fallen asleep once or twice again despite herself to its lullaby, but at last she got to her knees.

There was the sound of beaming.

Distant, though it was, she knew it was within the building somewhere, and it was definitely in the physical realm. She waited a moment, but somehow the full realization of her strange situation came upon her.

Migoosh really was in a small room at a broken transmition station with two dead Nausicans and no idea how long she had been there or what was going on beyond. There was hardly an explanation for the deaths of the corpses except that they seemed to have killed… each other. Whether by accident or on purpose, Migoosh could really be sure. All she was sure about was that suddenly she really did not want to be here. The smell of their blood seemed to assail her nostrils for the first time.

She stood up.

A sharp clear tinkling.

She jumped in fright, but sighed quickly afterwards as she saw that it was only her earlaces, which had somehow been thrown from her ears during that flip and had been on her lap until just now. She breathed but did not bother to pick them up. She listened instead for whoever had beamed into the Tower in case they had heard her.

She could hear very little into the corridor beyond. The tower walls were mostly soundproof, except at the windows, and the fact that she had heard the beaming was only because of the higher pitched resonance that accompanied the action that most races could not pick up at all. So she went to the circular doorway, and it opened for her. Somehow even this felt profound as though she had not expected them to open with such ease, but she passed through without further hesitance.

The sound of the rain behind encouraged her onward with its sweet normalcy. Out into the corridor, she found herself alone. The sound of an advertisement jiggle echoed somewhere like a phantom— from several directions really. There was very little movement otherwise. She sensed there was something alive, but she could not see anyone yet.

Oh, wait. There was another person dead.

She held her breath. It was a Ferengi. One she recognized. He was one of the merged. His parasite was still squiggling outside of his head beside the corpse.

With a shriek she could not suppress, she stepped on it.

The way it squished under her flat-soled boot made her insides swim, and she felt briefly sick. So sick that she did not dare for a moment to even take her boot off for fear of the sound again. She might have stood there longer in a state of indecision, but she suddenly heard something far more normal. The sound of quiet footsteps.

Spinning around she prepared to strike again with that foot if she had too, but she would have been nothing against this tall figure despite his stoic posture. Besides, as her face met his, she soon saw that the expression of this Hupyrian was anything but stoic. It certainly was not stricken with the emotion-sick delirium of the Keeoopii either. It was a gentle expression, a compassionate expression, and his insides corroborated the sight of him.

He stooped before her in a humble Ferengi greeting, and he smiled as sweetly as the cleansing rain, which was not an expression she had seen on this particular Hupyrian before. A relative of Topl'rintia the official nagal guard to Nagus Rom, this young man had been hired to help during the dangerous times of the recent events of the Tower. His name, she thought, was Old'rigrath, and he was under no vow of silence. In his hands he held a medkit.

"I—is someone hurt?" asked Migoosh, her voice cracked and it was difficult to steady it.

Old'rigrath's voice was far smoother as he said simply, "Yes."

"Are there… a lot of hurt people?" she asked.

"Probably," said the Hupyrian honestly, but now that that was out of the way, he suddenly went back to his mission.

Hupyrians were not easily distracted from their trains of thought, but Migoosh supposed he had made an exception for such a shriek as she had made. She felt her ears grow hot as he passed her by, but he did look back once and motioned for her to follow.

Even without vows of silence, Hupyrians were people of few words.

Hesitant because of the Keeoopii still under her boot, she closed her eyes and quickly scurried after him.

"Wait!" she whispered.

But the Hupyrian did not take her far. Obviously, Old'rigrath had not taken to looking around much. He had only one injured person on his mind, but as they came through the doors of a very important meeting chamber she was aghast at finding herself face to face with Brunt on the edge of the last few steps on a gradual three-tiered set of stairs. She almost leapt back into the hall, and she stayed the door from closing so that it remained open even as she relented.

Old'rigrath reached out a hand for a sort of reassurance.

Brunt hardly seemed to notice her at all at first, but Migoosh thought that he was listening. He knelt on the floor, and he looked about the same as she had before she had heard the mysterious beaming. Perhaps he was lost in the fire rain of the River as she had been.

Beyond Brunt, she saw heavy drapes covering body-like shapes. One bulky looking shape might have been a Clarusian breathing pod. She thought she knew to whom these forms belonged, but she had no heart to say their names. Her breath was caught again as she nearly stepped on an already deceased Keeoopii.

"Mine," came the voice of the motionless Brunt, weak and aged but not raspy.

He almost sounded like an old man. Well, she had to admit that he was far older than she was, quite old enough to be her father. She had never thought of him as anything but an ageless terror. To hear him so full of fragility and meekness was the most terrifying thing she had heard so far and made her forget all else, and yet it was not a terrible intoxicating fear. Somehow it made her heart go out to him, and it went out to him more as she saw the state of his hand and how well he was apparently taking that ragged wound staining his sleeve with metallic yellow blood.

"It was mine," he corrected himself and he smiled distantly and a little sadly. "—or I was its."

Again she was filled with fear because of it, but she found herself smiling despite herself just as sadly.

"You didn't ask for it, I thought. I mean… you weren't a true merged?"

"In a way I was," he replied; at last he looked up at Migoosh with a look of the deepest and most sincere contrition. "I'm glad you're not hurt, Ilgaina or… whoever you are. I thank the Dayitela at least for that."

Old'rigrath came to him, and Brunt looked at the med kit as though it took him time to register what such an object would be needed for. He looked about to protest as he understood, but he changed his mind just as he opened his mouth. Relenting he gave possession of his hand to the aid offered him.

"Do you need help, Old'rigrath?" asked Migoosh.

"I think one person is enough," the patient insisted.

"Bruh—" Migoosh began as she stepped towards them, and she stopped cocking her head as she watched.

Brunt winced suddenly as Old'rigrath began touching the wound. The pain suddenly overcame him. He writhed despite himself and let out a Ferengi squeak or two. Old'rigrath was very gentle however and Brunt was in no way resisting the procedure now. He closed his eyes, and although his body was still tense he was quiet from then on as Old'rigrath disinfected and treated his wound.

Migoosh waited very patiently for a time.

As Old'rigrath neared the end of the procedure, Brunt nodded and breathed the meekest little "Thank you," that Migoosh thought she had ever heard in her life.

"What happened to his hand?" she found herself asking.

"He was bitten," said Old'rigrath as he was finishing up.

"It's over," said Brunt shaking his head far firmer; he sat up now with feet out over to the floor at the bottom of the steps and his arms leaning over his knees. "It doesn't matter."

At last Migoosh seated herself beside Brunt on the low steps closer than she thought she otherwise would have dared, yet somehow she was right next to him— close enough to feel the warmth of his body radiating— the gravest foe who had impossibly turned as gentle as a cleansing rain. He only smiled. As though feeling the same awkwardness, he did not look at her. Perhaps he was waiting for her to speak, but she found no words to express her thoughts upon the subject. Old'rigrath now seated slumped on the other side of Brunt was equally as silent.

What happened at all? She finally wanted to ask, and yet she found that she could not quite get it into her voice box to speak it as though language itself had suddenly become an impossible to register phenomenon. All was just listening.

Old'rigrath calm and watchful. Brunt breathing slowly and intently. Migoosh holding herself in suspense there at the end, listened and watched them both but mostly Brunt.

"What do we do now?" she asked at last.

Brunt glanced at her briefly, but before he could answer Old'rigrath said, "We'll have to look around for others."

"I heard beaming," said Migoosh.

"Where?" asked Old'rigrath.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Brunt muttered.

"Why?" asked Migoosh.

"If no one's attacked you already after that scream," said Brunt, "I'm guessing it's only someone coming in to check on what's happened."

"What has happened, Brunt?" Migoosh demanded; she was almost imploring, really.

"Meegs' plan failed," said Brunt. "The Keeoopii's plan with it. He made the gravest mistake he could have made and everything collapsed in on itself… for the proud, anyway."

"What do you mean?" asked Migoosh. "What about Netil!?"

Now Brunt's full attention was on her in a way that was wholly new. He seemed to have been quite absorbed in his own thoughts until this moment. Now he studied her carefully as though for the first time. His eyes glazed as his ears became keener than any observing. His listening was just as penetrating as when he had been her enemy, his scan was like a computer, but his expression was tender despite it all.

Migoosh trembled.

"You're the…" he started and then shook his head. "You're the mother!"

Migoosh held her breath, but she did not answer.

"The girl," said Brunt. "She's… she's safe."

Migoosh's eyes grew wide, and Brunt turned away.

"Her rescuers were a person I'm very familiar with but who will mean nothing to you but he was hired by the First Clerk to find Belongo, and the man with him was Belongo himself, alive and well."

"You know this?"Migoosh barely squeaked with anticipation.

Brunt frowned as he thought a moment with deep confusion. "Yes… yes, Old'rigrath told me what I missed when unconscious."

Beside herself Migoosh threw her head up at Old'rigrath. Old'rigrath nodded gravely.

"She's alive? She's not merged?"

When it was obvious that Brunt was unsure of the answer himself entirely, Old'rigrath took the initiative. "No, she's not merged. The Keeoopii is dead."

Tears blossomed in her eyes, and in a sudden burst of uncontrollable emotion she threw out her arms as wide as they could go and she leapt upon Brunt. He let out a shriek himself unprepared for such an action, but though Migoosh was conscious suddenly that what she was doing was quite surprising to herself as well, she did not care. She hugged Brunt with all her might, and Brunt began to shake as he fully registered her joy.

Tears escaped his eyes too, though not nearly as freely. He hugged her back. Old'rigrath joined them, and that was how the away team found them as entered the still open doorway. The odd trio was as huddled together as a family together after a dangerous storm that might have taken all their lives, but here they were. Alive and well but quite in their own relief, they might not have even said anything to the Humans' intrusion at all if they had not come right up to them and insisted on behalf of the Nagus.

"We're alive," said Brunt with a shrug. "That's about it, I'm afraid."

He grinned a very toothy Ferengi sort of sneer. Migoosh and Old'rigrath laughed and in such a way that the tension left the officers even if not the bewilderment.

#

It was just Sisko this time. Well, Sisko and the doctors.

Dr. Emmeline Tenniel explained the case to the famous captain, and Sisko, stolid and keen, did not stop looking at Quark the entire time.

Quark did not stir. He did not mock. He stood appropriately and patiently as Tenniel explained the medical details of Quark's impossible vibrancy in front of them— vibrancy in the sense of being alive at all, and in his very orange color now, which looked even brighter than ever in the well-lit office. He had even tried to subdue it a little with the color choices of his next suit coat, but it was in vain. He had already relented to that fact by now, and went with it. He flowed with the River without complaint. The only thing he regretted at the moment was how nervously upset Dr. Bashir sounded.

He shouldn't be, he thought. It's just Sisko. He's not going to do anything. Even if the highest admiral of Starfleet was standing here listening, what would happen?

The facts spoke for themselves, and although in the past Quark would have been absolutely dying of embarrassment right now or incensed with pride himself, he felt neither now. Anyway, Bashir was doing all that for him.

"Well, Quark," said Sisko deceitfully calmly when Tenniel had finished her explanation; Quark could tell that he sounded frustrated behind his visual façade.

"Yes, Captain?" said Quark.

"You're sure you have no other explanation for your condition other than the one you apparently already gave."

"Captain Sisko," Quark replied gentlemanly, "with all due respect, if you think I'm lying and making a fool of myself on purpose to get attention…" he sighed. "Well, it goes without saying that there's no traditional profit in this."

"There is a significant amount of power, which can translate into profit nicely as any false profit may."

"And if I already had the power to manipulate my whole race into believing that I experienced something that would prove the beliefs of Ferenginar's ancient past, I wouldn't as you knew me have used it to say that Ferenginar was wrong about the beliefs I grew up believing on any account. I was a believer in the Rules of Acquisition. I wouldn't've made Ferengi humble themselves to me as anything more than Nagus at best. As a Hidden Profiter, I would have wanted such an attention even less. Not even for the sake of proving the Federation wrong would I have done this on purpose. Test me for lying if you want. Do whatever you want to, but unless I was in league with Meegs this whole time and with unknown knowledge that we hid even from the Keeoopii on such a vast scale that's still at work now with me living in a way that my brother sure wasn't able to, I shouldn't be able to either, none of this would be possible through me. If it was staged, it was not my doing."

"No," agreed Sisko with just the faintest click on the roof of his mouth.

Quark cleared his throat. "So, is there anything else you want from me, Captain?"

Sisko looked at Bashir before returning in full to Quark. Sisko's presence took up the whole room as usual. His large frame felt larger, his full lips were pursed as though holding the whole room in that composed grimace reinforced by a finely trimmed beard turning steel-gray. Those deep pools that were his dark eyes became fuller, but they were all on Quark. He was looking so deeply into Quark's eyes that Quark was sure he was trying to pull out some information from his mind that no telepath would have been able to. It was as if by sheer will, Sisko teleported the doctors away leaving only the captain and the once insecure cynical bar tender. Quark swallowed, but his eyes did not falter even if they did soften more into what was probably a sort of pleading.

"I don't expect you to believe it," said Quark.

"You mean that you are living through a miracle of the Dayitela, so that your people will return to a more wholesome life?"

"To the truth," said Quark steadily.

"Many people believe they have the truth," said Sisko.

"I can't deny it," said Quark.

"I didn't say that you or I were meant to convince each other of anything, Quark. That was always your side of it," the captain assured him. "But you are certainly not the man I met that day on the station attempting to skulk away from us. We've learned what we wanted to know, and as I said before, it is none of our business to interfere with what your planet and Alliance decides to do. Anyone from the Federation who believes otherwise forgets the prime directive."

"Maybe it's a directive that is impossible for a feeling person to obey?" Quark offered innocently.

"Perhaps," admitted Sisko. "In my experience it is almost impossible. If one enters, one has already interfered."

Quark smiled briefly accepting this as kindness from the captain, but he said nothing.

"But since nothing can be proven false about your claim," Sisko went on with munificence, "I think I can only say that you've made yourself up to this point good for your people, and are a better man. Even as I speak with you now, you're not even the same man I talked to over transmition only some days ago."

Quark lowered his eyes.

"You may go if you wish," Sisko added.

With a bow, Quark did so, but as he left, he looked at the captain once more with a very familiar candid twinkle in his eyes like a pair of pixie sapphires.

"I have to thank you for something else though, Captain," he teased.

"What's that, Quark?"

"If it wasn't for you forcing me to stay on that station, none of this would have ever happened, and I mean it with no irony that I'm indebted to you for it. Come have a drink on me sometime in Ferenginar City, hmm? I'm sure you'd love the best vintage of Pomtairi ale with a hint of Arka spice that I'll save just for you with the best seat in the house. I still have the recipes of some Cajun dishes. I've used them modified on Ferenginar with great success, but I can certainly make a pure dish for you."

There was stillness for a moment, but Quark was confident. After a moment, he saw that smile he was waiting for. It was a very wry and quite Ferengi in a way. He knew so well that Sisko had that in him. Quark sneered, and he winked Human-style to Bashir in between to further playfully tease the captain.

Bashir's return smile was rather weak, however.

"Thanks," Sisko said. "I'll keep that in mind."

"See you then!" Quark chirped.

With that Quark exited, and the door slid shut behind his wagging coattails.

#

"You're dismissed as well, Dr. Tenniel. Thank you for your time."

"Yes, Captain."

Bashir closed his eyes and turned to the captain. They were alone for a reason and Bashir knew what it was.

"You have a decision to make, Doctor," said Sisko.

"Yes, Captain," said Bashir.

"As members of Starfleet and the Federation, we cannot interfere with what the Ferengi decide to do, but we also cannot have a conflict of interests."

"I understand."

"You'll have to make the decision soon," said Sisko very gravely. "Though, I'm assuming that you've already chosen what you're going to do. I won't cover for you any longer if you try to compromise. There is no compromising in this. I hear that the Pelipans still intend to work towards joining the Alliance and have already expressed interest in not only helping to clean up the Keeoopii's mess and to fight alongside the Ferengi, though too late to help in what just happened."

"I wouldn't expect any less of them," said Bashir.

"So you are absolutely certain?"

"I… am," said Bashir. "My resignation is in order."

"It will not be with dishonor," said Sisko.

"Thank you, Captain."

"I wish you luck," said Sisko. "I'll leave you here with Nog to help pick up what we left behind personally, and when Nog returns from his visit with his family, you will remain?"

"Yes."

"Then there's nothing more to say," said Sisko. "You're dismissed, Doctor. It was an honor serving with you when we were part of the same mission. I regret that our interests have diverged."

"Hopefully not forever, Sir," said Bashir.

Sisko smiled briefly and grimly. "Hopefully, Dr. Bashir, but it is a very slim hope."

"Then it is still a hope."

"Agreed."