Quark remembered when Gera had put on his jacket, once, after he’d taken it off—a bold gesture, one that should have been upsetting, but she’d looked oddly cute in it…He promptly buried the thought. The sub-nagus’s tart of a sister was why he’d had to leave home in the first place.
Ishka got right to business. “Quark, what has gotten into you? A Cardassian station! Haven’t I told you about those people? They have no interest in profit at all—they’re almost as bad as the Klingons, but with less scruple! All they want to do is plunder, and then plunder some more. No head for business!”
“That’s enough!” Quark shouted. His mother had such nerve, trying to tell him—the eldest male!—what to do. “All I need to hear from you is that you’ve made sure Rom has transferred all my accounts over to the Bank of Bolias.”
“Son, I’m not so sure your brother can handle your request. Maybe it would be better if I just—”
“Rom has to do it,” Quark said firmly. Of course his mother knew that Rom was an idiot, as stupid as any Klingon when it came to matters of money, but there was no one else. Cousin Gaila would have skimmed, and there were no other close male relatives to whom he could turn.
“For Exchequer’s sake, Quark, it’s a simple request. I don’t approve of what you’re doing, but if I can just put in the call to the bank for you—”
“Put in the call?” Quark said, a little sick at the thought of it. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
His mother pursed her lips beneath the hook of her nose. “Of course I am,” she finally said. “I’ll contact your brother right away. And don’t worry, I’ll see to it that he doesn’t miss anything.”
“Good,” Quark said. “I’ve got big plans for this station. I’m going to be rich in no time.”
His mother continued to look fretful. “But…son…Cardassians? There’s a war going on there, isn’t there?”
“Not exactly,” Quark told her. “But even if there was, don’t forget the Thirty-fourth Rule of Acquisition.” War is good for business . That’d shut her up.
“Don’t forget the Thirty-fifth Rule, either,” Ishka reminded him. “‘ Peace is good for business. ’ Couldn’t you come back to peaceful Ferenginar, carry out your plans close to home?”
“Moogie, I’ve got cases and cases of unreplicated food, and I’m on a station full of starving Bajorans.”
“Quark, don’t get mixed up in the local politics! Aligning yourself with the Bajorans—”
“Who said anything about alignment? It’s supply and demand. You should see some of these people, Moogie. They’re ugly enough as it is—tall, straight teeth—”
“And what makes you think they have any money?”
“Some of them do. They’re bound to! They have vendors on this station, and I’ve seen Bajorans patronizing them. But you can’t eat money, can you? From what I’ve heard, there are food shortages on their planet, and they don’t seem to have a pair of decent shoes between a dozen of them, let alone a replicator. If they have the money, they’ll pay. Believe me, Moogie.”
“The Cardassians won’t stand for it. You’ll be killed.”
“The Cardassians don’t have to know,” he said, lowering his voice from force of habit, though he’d already checked and double-checked the channel’s security. The Cardassians were good, but not that good. “Besides, I’ve got an idea for a legitimate venture. You wouldn’t believe what passes for leisure here. These soldiers—they’ve got nowhere to unwind! I’m going to change that, though.”
His mother frowned, her eyes moist. “So, there’s no way I can convince you to come home?”
Quark shook his head firmly. “I figure it’ll be at least another decade before it’s safe to show my face again. The sub-nagus isn’t likely to have forgotten me.”
“Maybe if you’d just married his sister,” Ishka said sadly.
“She was engaged,” Quark reminded her.
Ishka got right to business. “Quark, what has gotten into you? A Cardassian station! Haven’t I told you about those people? They have no interest in profit at all—they’re almost as bad as the Klingons, but with less scruple! All they want to do is plunder, and then plunder some more. No head for business!”
“That’s enough!” Quark shouted. His mother had such nerve, trying to tell him—the eldest male!—what to do. “All I need to hear from you is that you’ve made sure Rom has transferred all my accounts over to the Bank of Bolias.”
“Son, I’m not so sure your brother can handle your request. Maybe it would be better if I just—”
“Rom has to do it,” Quark said firmly. Of course his mother knew that Rom was an idiot, as stupid as any Klingon when it came to matters of money, but there was no one else. Cousin Gaila would have skimmed, and there were no other close male relatives to whom he could turn.
“For Exchequer’s sake, Quark, it’s a simple request. I don’t approve of what you’re doing, but if I can just put in the call to the bank for you—”
“Put in the call?” Quark said, a little sick at the thought of it. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
His mother pursed her lips beneath the hook of her nose. “Of course I am,” she finally said. “I’ll contact your brother right away. And don’t worry, I’ll see to it that he doesn’t miss anything.”
“Good,” Quark said. “I’ve got big plans for this station. I’m going to be rich in no time.”
His mother continued to look fretful. “But…son…Cardassians? There’s a war going on there, isn’t there?”
“Not exactly,” Quark told her. “But even if there was, don’t forget the Thirty-fourth Rule of Acquisition.” War is good for business . That’d shut her up.
“Don’t forget the Thirty-fifth Rule, either,” Ishka reminded him. “‘ Peace is good for business. ’ Couldn’t you come back to peaceful Ferenginar, carry out your plans close to home?”
“Moogie, I’ve got cases and cases of unreplicated food, and I’m on a station full of starving Bajorans.”
“Quark, don’t get mixed up in the local politics! Aligning yourself with the Bajorans—”
“Who said anything about alignment? It’s supply and demand. You should see some of these people, Moogie. They’re ugly enough as it is—tall, straight teeth—”
“And what makes you think they have any money?”
“Some of them do. They’re bound to! They have vendors on this station, and I’ve seen Bajorans patronizing them. But you can’t eat money, can you? From what I’ve heard, there are food shortages on their planet, and they don’t seem to have a pair of decent shoes between a dozen of them, let alone a replicator. If they have the money, they’ll pay. Believe me, Moogie.”
“The Cardassians won’t stand for it. You’ll be killed.”
“The Cardassians don’t have to know,” he said, lowering his voice from force of habit, though he’d already checked and double-checked the channel’s security. The Cardassians were good, but not that good. “Besides, I’ve got an idea for a legitimate venture. You wouldn’t believe what passes for leisure here. These soldiers—they’ve got nowhere to unwind! I’m going to change that, though.”
His mother frowned, her eyes moist. “So, there’s no way I can convince you to come home?”
Quark shook his head firmly. “I figure it’ll be at least another decade before it’s safe to show my face again. The sub-nagus isn’t likely to have forgotten me.”
“Maybe if you’d just married his sister,” Ishka said sadly.
“She was engaged,” Quark reminded her.
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