Hogan vs. Quark
by 80sarcades
Welcome!
The men in the building, their known worlds shaken, watched silently as the women climbed back into their trucks before driving off. All of them, though none would admit it, were a bit fearful at what the senior officer had unleashed.
General Hogan, now recovered, ordered Captain Kinchloe to follow the AWOL group. Unfortunately - if not expectedly - General Hammond immediately detailed some of the nearby enlisted men - and one slightly pudgy lieutenant, all of them white - to follow the Captain. The two-star officer cringed as he saw the resigned anger in his aide's eyes moments before the two men shared an invisible look that communicated volumes.
Inwardly, Hogan both cursed and envied the future. What the hell does it matter that Kinch is colored? he angrily thought yet again. Yet even he had to recognize the brutal truth of reality: sending a Negro to hunt down a company of renegade white women - no matter that he's an officer and gentleman in the United States Army Air Force! - would be...problematic, to say the least.
I can only hope Kinch will get lucky...
The poor choice of words gave the General pause. Irritated, he restarted the thought.
If he's lucky, he began again, he'll be able to track down the WACS. If he's fortunate, he'll be able to give them the antidote. If, if if...
And it will be a miracle if everything returns to normal!
The problem he didn't have to fix - and which didn't surprise him in the very least - was Quark's determined willingness to negotiate for the secret the American held. Hogan purposely kept him at arms length even as the Ferengi repeatedly demanded the human representative's presence.
Eventually - and with a certain amount of reluctance - General Hogan returned to the negotiations. Quark, looking self-important, was all smiles as he welcomed the return of his new 'friend'. There was also an air of something else surrounding the older Ferengi that was familiar yet almost indefinable-
He's horny!
The sudden bolt from the blue struck Hogan so suddenly that only his practiced control kept him from laughing outright. Instead, he coughed slightly and restrained the urge to smile as another thought occurred to him.
I wonder if you can fix Ferengi?
"I'm convinced," Quark said bluntly, unaware of the General's mental escapades. "Shall we get down to business?"
What followed next wasn't a surprise. The alien - a smooth horse trader by any measure of the word - literally promised several moons and the latest in top-of-the-line Ferengi technology in exchange for the information the General held. The thirsty desperation reflected in the three sets of beady eyes made him want to throw up. As it was, it was all he could do to last for thirty minutes before calling for a break.
No morals. No rules. To them, if you're a man then you're a man. If you're a woman...
It all comes down to sex, doesn't it?
Hogan shook his head in disgust.
You know, I've known a lot of women. Oddly enough I met a number of them in prison camp. No one believes me when I say that but it's true.
Have I ever taken advantage of a woman? Honestly, yes. In wartime I admit to playing hard and fast with the rules to get what I needed. Was it reprehensible at times? Yes. Do I regret it? Yes...and no. I'll goi further and say there were times I should have kept my zipper shut!
Even so, I did all of that on my own. It would have been easy to justify using the words as a weapon of war. Kinch, after all, used it to save our lives. But I didn't.
I wonder if that will be enough to save my soul? He internally snorted.
Still, there were benefits to being honest. There was even that one time that I was 'thanked' personally. *XXXXXXX He smiled at the now-distant memory.
The one good thing I can say - or hope I can say, anyway - is that I never crossed the line to willingly force myself on a woman. These guys, however...
Whatever their motives the thought of the The Knowledge, as Kinch termed it, getting out made him sick.
I don't know if it will work on aliens. For that matter I'm surprised that it even works at all. Mr. Jacobs was already dying when he passed the secret along. To be honest, I really don't remember much about that day at all.
July 6, 1922
Indianapolis, Indiana
"You're a good man, Mr. Hogan," Mr. Jacobs murmured before he took another drink from the glass Robert held out. "Not many people would take care of an old man. Especially one as old as me." At that moment the older man coughed heavily before he leaned back, exhausted, into the sagging pillow.
"I can still go and get Doctor Haskins," eighteen year old Robert Hogan offered, worry etched on his young face." The old man waved him off.
"Nonsense," he scoffed. "Witch doctors and their treatments won't do much for me. Not now, anyway." He coughed again, the sound filling the small apartment. "When it's your time, it's your time. You should remember that."
"Yes, sir," the boy said, though he sounded dubious.
"Another thing I've always liked about you: you're polite. Honorable to a fault, too." He paused, carefully choosing his next words. "You could have taken advantage of that pretty lady the other night," he said, his eyebrows raised.
"Didn't seem right," Robert said, shaking his head. "I mean...I've heard about it a lot from the other guys. "All about it." He paused, his cheeks blushing red. "I really wanted to do it, but..." Suddenly, his eyes dawned with realization. "How did you know?" He demanded. "I didn't say anything. And I know she didn't."
"You didn't have to," the older man calmly replied before a fresh wave of hacking filled the air. "I knew it the same way I know you full name is Robert Edwardius Hogan." He tapped the side of his head while Robert leaned back, shocked.
"Now you're wondering how I knew what your middle name was," Jacobs continued, reading Hogan's mind. "You've always been embarrassed by it. Frankly I don't see why; it reminds me of one of those old English Kings." He gave the young man a small smile. "I've been waiting for you for a long time," Jacobs said. "Almost too long."
Robert Hogan merely stared at the old man before he found his voice. "Who are you, mister?" He finally asked.
The old man flashed him a toothy grin. "That's what I like about you, kid: you're quick on the uptake." Suddenly, his body stiffened and he gasped as a wave of pain coursed through his nerve endings. He halfheartedly waved off Hogan's attempts to help.
"Nothing you can do, son," he mumured, gritting his teeth. "Just past my time, that's all. Like I said, I've been waiting for you."
"Why would you wait for me?" Robert asked, perplexed. "I mean...I'm just a kid."
"No," the other man said, shaking his head. "You're more than that. You're a nexus." He paused. "You asked me who I was. You might say that I'm...an alien."
"You're from another country?"
A dry laugh preceded a brief coughing spell. "Not exactly." He then held up his hand. Before Hogan's shocked gaze the hand slowly disappeared into a mass of swirling white light. The glow that filled the bedroom lasted only a few seconds before the familiar gnarled fingers and hand reappeared.
"An alien not of this world. Specifically, I'm from another galaxy," the man calmly imparted. "You wouldn't be able to pronounce the name of my people. Not with a human tongue, anyway."
Robert stayed motionless, his eyes still on the now-normal hand.
"That's good," Jacobs soothed. "You're thinking, instead of running. Like I said, you're more than you know."
"How...why..." the boy stuttered, unsure what to believe. The alien leaned over and weakly patted the human on the arm. To his credit, Hogan didn't flinch.
"We came here from another galaxy," Jacobs repeated dully. "Many, many of your years ago. Several thousand, as you measure time."
"God almighty," Hogan muttered, a feeling of disbelief warring with what he had just witnessed.
"To a degree we have moved beyond the need of physical bodies...for the most part," the man clarified. "Our people are not true beings of energy. Hence, even we must pass on."
"So you could look like humans...or anyone else," the real human clarified. The old man merely nodded in reply.
"Our society, once powerful, covered our home galaxy before it fell into stagnation. War decimated what remained." Jacobs leaned back against his pillow as he recounted the past. "Four of us escaped to start anew in a place that had never heard of us. This place." The alien waved his hand. "The ironic par was that we had never intended to settle here. However, humanity interested us."
"Why?" Robert asked, his earlier fear replaced by curiosity.
"My species has the ability to see time. The future, as well as the past." He coughed several times before he gratefully accepted the glass of water the young man offered him. "Humanity is capable of great cruelty yet at the same time you show the most remarkable compassion," the being said, sipping the water again. "The two halves make the whole yet, as you may imagine, cannot sustain itself indefinitely. It will lead to your race's downfall."
Hogan, his face white, did not utter a sound.
"However, that does not end the story," Jacobs explained. "Humanity, unlike my race, will flourish into something most remarkable. It will grow, prosper, expand...and, most importantly, be devoted to learning." He smiled knowingly. "One day, the children you cannot see will be greater than we ever were. Even, dare I say it, beyond the Q."
"Who?"
A dry snort emanated from the old man's throat. "Him as well," he said, much to Hogan's confusion. "But that doesn't answer why you are important. The Ruthari, indirectly, are to blame for that."
"I'm afraid to ask who they are," Robert confessed, a bit embarrassed despite himself.
"A parasitic race of beings from another part of this galaxy," the alien explained. "Their scout ships arrived on your world during the demise of the Roman Empire."
The new revelation coming on top of the earlier declaration, rocked the teenager. For an instant he felt utterly small before he suddenly, with newfound strength, found his voice. "But if they've been here before..." he hesitantly squeaked.
"Then why are they not here now?" Jacobs finished. "A good question. The short story is that we were partially successful in defeating their attempts to subjugate your world. In doing so, my companions gave their lives."
"I'm sorry," Hogan whispered, not really sure what to say beyond that.
The alien waved a hand. "It was a worthwhile cause, to protect innocents," he murmured. "Unfortunately, the Ruthari were successful in altering the global genetic code before we were able to finally stop them." Jacobs paused when he observed the confusion on Robert's face. "You may think of it as a diagram for your body," he explained. "Everything that makes you, you. The cogs and wheels, if you will."
"And changing the diagram was...a really bad thing?" The young human asked.
"Yes." Jacobs paused before speaking again, his voice heavy. "In essence, the worlds of this quadrant were converted into a storehouse to supply future Ruthari conquests," he said before enduring a coughing spasm. He wet his lips with the glass and steadied his shaky hands.
"It was an insidious plan," the alien, his words heavy with labored breath, continued. "The population of each primitive world – and there were many infected in this part of space, as best as we could tell – would never realize the truth until it was too late. Say the right words to a member of your species, for example and they will become a savage beast fit for war. Say another, and that person will become a sexual slave – and quite willing, once triggered – ready to be sold to any one of a dozen races that trade in such things. In effect, it was a clever way for the Ruthari to have others fight their wars and finance their economies. All at the same time," he added.
Slowly, Hogan unclenched his white-knuckled fists as he mentally tried to suppress his suddenly nauseous stomach. "What happened to them?" he whispered, a small part of his youth dying as the remainder suddenly grew up.
"They are extinct," the old man said bluntly, no trace of sympathy in his suddenly cold voice. "They eventually violated one of the most cardinal rules in this galaxy: never, ever, provoke the Borg."
"Good," Robert simply observed, unsure of who or what the 'Borg' were but not sorry in the least.
"Unfortunately, their legacy lives on in the genes of this quadrant both human and not." Jacobs confessed. "I have tried over the years to remove the effects from your people but without my companions..." He let the sentence dangle. "I'm afraid, given the large numbers of humanity, it is too late in any case."
"So I could just go crazy at any time," the younger man said warily, disconcerted at the very thought.
"No," Jacobs said, shaking his head. "Only if the trigger phrases were used correctly. As I said, we had a partial victory." He smiled gently. "Your race has no need to fear." He tapped his head. "Remember, we can see the future to a degree."
"Ok," Hogan nodded, feeling slightly better...but only just. "So...what do I have to do with all this?"
The older alien smiled. "You already have. And will."
"What?"
At that moment Mr. Jacobs reached out with his fading powers moments before he snapped his fingers. Instantly, the teenager's alert eyes glazed over as he slumped back into the chair, unconscious.
Working quickly, the alien removed the recent conversation from the youngling's mind even as he placed a false memory where he and the boy discussed the mental triggers. When the boy awoke he would remember the new conversation but nothing of the old.
And that is the way life should be, the old man judged. He will grow up soon enough. And when he does, he will defend his planet – and his future – as best as he knows how. He snorted softly in amusement as the future image of three Ferengi filled his mind. Ironic, isn't it? he mused before he looked at the boy again. He's as devious as they are yet more moral than any of them...
It will be enough.
"Thank you," he said simply, if not gratefully, to the unconscious teen before he looked upward. "I've done all I can…" he muttered before his eyelids slowly closed.
A white ball of swirling light drifted slowly upward from the physical remains of Mr. Jacobs moments before his body faded into nothingness.
A/N: if you have time, read ColHogan's wonderful story Newkirk's Embarrassing Moment. Puts an interesting perspective on being thanked personally. Note: the story is for adults only.
From a male perspective I've observed misogyny/sexual harassment played out from time to time. There was the boss who wouldn't hire pregnant women. So what did I do? I hired one (she was honest and told me during the interview). Caught hell from my old-time boss but she turned out to be one of my better employees.
Then there was the boss who watched women come into the store and rated them on a scale of one to ten with various commentary along the way. Finally, there was another boss (like the other two, only in name) who would print out customer photos for his own use. This was a really big no-no and even more so since the women in the photos were in quite revealing (unclothed) poses. I turned him in and he was allowed to resign in lieu of being fired.
There are good guys out there who try to make a honest living. Unfortunately, the bad ones tar us with the same dirty brush. Quite depressing, actually.