Hogan vs. Quark
by 80sarcades
Welcome!
I should have been awake when Mr. Jacobs died, an older (and somewhat wiser) Robert Hogan cursed inwardly for the millionth time. Toward the end I thought he was a little crazy. Especially when he told me how to use The Knowledge.
To be honest, I really didn't think much of it. Not until I started dating Daphne. We were talking about Mr. Jacobs and, as a joke, I repeated what the old man told me.
He shuddered at what happened next.
For an eighteen year old kid it was the stuff of dreams. She had no idea what she was doing. None at all. If I hadn't come to my senses in time...
I don't know if I could have lived with myself.
Don't get me wrong: I love women. However, whoever said that power corrupts was absolutely right. With that much power a man could do whatever he wanted to any woman he wanted and get away with it. Which is why I rarely used it and then only when I had no other choice. Kinch knows, but he's the type of man that will take the secret to his grave.
I only hope I'll have the same opportunity.
His mind then changed tack.
A bigger question, he wondered: will God forgive me? he wondered. I don't know if the ladies ever will.
And maybe they shouldn't.
Lost in his thoughts, Hogan was startled to find himself in front of the Ferengi ship. The ramp, inviting and dangerous, lay before his gaze.
I guess it wouldn't hurt to take another look, he decided. With that, he walked up into the alien craft.
Thirty minutes later, General Hogan left the ship and returned to the meeting. Before entering the room he asked the guard to bring some snacks and drinks from the officer's mess. He then reluctantly took his place at the wood table.
Quark, as expected, was in a jovial - and, to Hogan's eyes, delightfully sickening -mood.
You know, I remember dealing with the Russians after the war, the former POW thought. They were bullheaded, stubborn, suspicious, paranoid and generally untrustworthy from Uncle Joe on down.
God, how I miss them!
He then shook off the pleasant memory and turned back to his alien guest.
Let's see if I can pop his balloon.
A tray of refreshments was quickly brought into the room. The teenager, living up to his youth, immediately tore into the donuts much to the General's amusement and Quark's consternation.
"What?" Nog said innocently, for once not cringing in fear. Several flakes of white glaze clung to his lips before his tongue greedily lapped the sugary bits up. "I'm hungry," he announced.
"Rom..." the older alien growled, the unspoken 'discipline your son' message hanging heavy in the air.
"Well..." His brother grabbed one of the confections and took a bite before grinning ear to ear. "They are tasty..."
Quark merely huffed in frustration. Conscious of the human's presence he decided not to press the issue. Instead, he patiently waited until they were alone.
He's going into the windup...
"After thinking about it, I've decided to agree to your generous terms..." The American began.
Quark's smile, toothy and cheerful, signaled imminent victory..
"...with one additional condition."
The alien's eyes narrowed.
"And that would be...?" he asked.
"Nothing serious," the General said, his tone politely conversational as he steered a new negotiation course through the Ferengi rocks. "I was just thinking about how lucky you must be with women."
...and there goes the pitch...
Instantly, Quark puffed up and straightened in his chair. "Well," he said modestly, if not magnanimously, "I have been known to...attract the pretty ones." The last words were said with a leering smirk.
Inwardly, Hogan restrained the urge to throw up at the thought of the Ferengi with any female.
Talk about drawing the short end of the stick!
"And you would agree that a woman should serve her man in every way possible, correct?" the human casually continued, his neutral face covering his true emotions
"Of course" the bartender nodded, unsure where the line of conversation was going but clearly enjoying the pleasant train of thought. "It is a female's primary function, after all."
...and the batter swings...
"Then that's the deal," the former POW announced to another puzzled look. "In exchange for my secret, the Ferengi Alliance will provide the United States with the technology you listed." He paused, savoring the moment. "However, I require a personal condition to the contract given that it is my knowledge being traded."
"And that is...?"
A touch of humor settled into Hogan's eyes before he leaned back into his chair and relaxed. "I want your mother to serve as my live-in maid," he announced. "And...more." He let the last word dangle suggestively in the suddenly still air.
For the second time in days a trifecta of alien jaws hit the floor
Steeerike One!
"Are you crazy?" yelled Nog as he jumped up and slammed his fist on the table. A look of revulsion filled his eyes as he stared at the nearby human. "That is unacceptable! Even outrageous!"
"Shut up, Nog," Quark's voice growled warningly. Rom wasn't about to be shushed.
"But it's Moogie!" the Ferengi wailed. "You can't trade her off like she was property!"
"She is property," the older alien pointedly countered. "Or have you forgotten the one hundredth and thirty ninth rule of acquisition: Wives serve, brothers inherit." A snort escaped his nostrils. "Not that you ever will..." he muttered.
"But she's not your wife!" Rom retorted. "She's Moogie!"
Quark merely shrugged. "What's the difference?" he casually retorted. "Anyone who's sane would see this as an extension of the rule. Or have you forgotten what we stand to gain?" He waved his hand dismissively. "I should also remind you of the sixth rule of acquisition: Never let family stand in the way of opportunity! If we need to trade Moogie to seal the deal then so be it"
"Moogie!" Rom cried out, drawing his knees up to his chest. "I want Moogie..."
"We won't agree to your terms," Nog said sharply as he attempted to stare the General down. "I suppose you want her to run around naked and chew up your food too!"
Hogan struggled mightily to keep a poker face at the nauseating prospect. "A maid's uniform will work, I think," he nodded. Oddly, he had a new appreciation for the teenager. Anyone that stood up for his grandmother couldn't be that bad.
"Done!" Quark exclaimed. "So we have a deal?"
"Moogie!" Rom wailed again, his face teary as he rocked back and forth in his chair.
"Oh, shut up!" his brother exclaimed, torn between the thrill of victory and the agony of being unable to smack his brother in the head.
"Deal," Hogan said quietly much to Quark's delight and his relatives consternation. Just then there was a knock at the door. Captain Kinchloe, his uniform tunic ripped in spots, stepped inside.
"General," he called out. "Can I see you for a minute?"
"Sure, Kinch." He glanced over at the alien trio. "If you'll excuse me..."
"Of course," Quark graciously agreed. This time, however, he leaped up from the desk and walked over to the door. Casting a glance at the one-way mirror he opened the door slightly and put his ear to the crack. As expected, Hogan had continued to honor his word: No one was in the hidden room watching the negotiations. He smirked inwardly.
Hu-mons were so predictable.
"...going on, Kinch?" Hogan asked.
"We're in trouble, General," the other man's voice rumbled. "Those WAC's are out of control. They're on their way here with tanks!"
"What!?" the General's deep voice softly boomed before he regained control. "Ok," he said reasonably, if not impatiently. "What happened?"
"The 20th Tank Battalion has some tanks just south of here," his aide explained. "Or should I say they had some tanks. They were going to use them for an upcoming test." He didn't have to say what kind of test. Hogan knew. "Apparently, the nurses showed up and took them. Ran the crews off, too."
"The answer didn't work?" Hogan asked. Quark detected a real trace of worry in the human's tone.
"Earplugs," Kinch said, letting the other shoe drop. "They're wearing earplugs. Don't know where they got them but they can't hear a thing especially when those engines are fired up. I tried." He ran his hands down the ruined tunic. "They've really got it out for you, General," he went on. "Apparently they have a chart drawn up."
A sense of dread crept into the other man's tone. "Do I really want to know?" the two-star commented softly as the taste of bile crept into his throat. "Let me guess..."
"Yup," Kinch confirmed. "They're making a list of who will get to you first. And how many times." The officer grimaced. "The Captain has her name at the head of the list."
"Rank hath her privileges," Hogan joked weakly, his stomach flipping nauseated cartwheels. "What about the others that were with you?"
"It didn't go well," the aide sighed. "I couldn't tell the men what was really going on so they tried reasoning with the ladies." The Captain made a slightly sour face. "Well, let's just say the women objected to that idea. They might be WACs but they fight like Marines. The guys they left on the ground might walk again. Eventually."
"Great," the senior officer groused. "So what's the status?"
"Bad," Kinch said flatly. "At last report the WAC's were on their way back here in at least three tanks and some trucks. With loudspeakers blaring the Battle Hymn of the Republic, no less. They'll probably be here in about thirty minutes or so."
"Well, that tears it," the General muttered, thinking the problem through. He scratched a sudden itch on the back of his neck. "How the hell do we get them out of the tanks?" he asked rhetorically."
"I'd almost say let them run out of gas," Captain Kinchloe offered. "That is, if I wasn't convinced they bought a tanker truck with them."
"No," Hogan said, a tired, almost resigned look setting in. "Leave them to me," he ordered, his voice suddenly cold with determination. "I'll deal with them myself."
"You've got more guts that I have, Robert," the younger officer told his friend admiringly. "There's no way I'd go up against a bunch of women in a tank." He then lowered his voice to a whispered hiss. "No way," he repeated. "They'd run me over or blast me before I could say forty-two-"
"Sssh!" the General cautioned, looking over his shoulder before he turned back to his aide. "Now here's what we'll do..." The rest of the conversation was lost as Quark, now satisfied, quietly closed the door before making his way back to the conference table. Rom, still clutching his knees, weakly wobbled back and forth.
"Moogie..." he sobbed uncontrollably.
"Shut up, Rom," he snapped. "If you think I'd give up our mother to a human than you're a lobeless idiot."
His brother looked up, hope shining through his hears. "But you said-"
Quark waved him off with a sharp motion of his hand. "Never mind what I said," he growled. "That idiot out there gave me what we needed. Now all we have to do is get off this rock. Nothing else matters." An evil grin spread over his cragged features. "Or have you forgotten the 17th Rule of Acquisition?"
"A contract is a contract is a contract," Nog immediately prompted...
"...but only between Ferengi," Rom blurted, a happy look in his eyes. "So we're not trading Moogie?"
"Don't tempt me," the older Ferengi hissed.
A/N: In Ferengi society, trading one's mother for latinum (or profit of some kind) is looked upon with admiration (primarily since, like all Ferengi females, she's considered to be useless in society). Contrast that with the ROA that states 'Never make fun of a Ferengi's mother'. You have to wonder...
Thanks for reading!