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By Phoebe North and Kimberly Smith
By Phoebe North
Two Years Ago
"B-but brother!" The young Ferengi man ran after his even younger sibling. "Be reasonable." It was a useless request, he knew that as soon as Jin spun around, eyes red and angry.
"No, Morg, I won't be reasonable! I've taken enough of this abuse! I've got my fifty percent, now I'm leaving!" Morg's gaze fell on Jin's suitcases.
"You took half the latinum?" he sounded near tears. Jin growled at him in disgust.
"Yes, I took the latinum. Latinum, latinum, that's all you care about!"
Morg shrugged his thin shoulders, "Well I am a Ferengi," he said, as if that explained it all. And it did. Jin ignored him, reaching for the door to his shuttlecraft. His brother rushed to intercept him.
"I need you! The Mor-jih Consortium can't exist without the `jih' half....Please, brother? I'll- I'll give you fifty two percent of all profits..." Jin sighed.
"You'll never change. No way." He stepped into his shuttle. "See you," he said, as the door closed. Morg scowled.
"Unfortunately, I'm sure you will."
The Present
The Profit Winner (A Ferengi cargo ship)
The cool uneasiness of midnight was already well on Morg's skin when he flicked on the comm unit. The young Ferengi man looked beyond tense as the fuzzy image of a short Maldicaan man materialized on the screen.
"Mov'tar..." he said nervously, false happiness plastering his lips, "How nice to see you. You wished to speak to me, perhaps make a business transaction?" Mov'tar gave a snarl and shook his head.
"No. I want to complete that previous business transaction. The one you guaranteed would be closed by last week."
Morg feigned a chuckle. "Of course. Well, you know, those sort of engine parts are very hard to come by..."
"I already paid you. Now you either get me those parts in four days or I'll send my men after you-and it won't be pretty." Mov'tar paused for a reaction. The Ferengi quickly nodded.
"Yes sir. At 0600 I'm making a trade with a girl on a ship."
"So?" the Maldicaan demanded.
"It's a Christa-class. Chock full o' Lumanian engine parts!" Mov'tar suddenly let out a belly laugh, his head tilting back. Morg joined in.
"Four days. Mov'tar out." The screen went blank. Morg fell back in his chair, his large head in his hands.
"By my fathers latinum, Glemening," Morg said, stroking his small black guinea pig, "I hope this works." The creature answered with a loud squeal. Morg couldn't help but laugh.
The Aurora12
The Aurora12 was blissfully quiet. The only noise was the steady vibration of the ship's engine, and the slight, almost unnoticeable sound of MINA puttering around,
doing who-knows-what. Ryd loved to be up at this time, without the plague of dreamlessness. She paced the cargo bay silently, waiting for the ship to dock. She had asked the Ferengi man to come at this hour, to bring her T'gra. Ryd could almost feel the cool, smooth taste on her tongue, could practically smell it's tangy scent.
She wasn't exactly addicted to T'gra, mind you. Gergians could get drunk from it but tended not to drink compulsively. The thought brought laughter from Ryd's mouth: if there was a "T'graholic" he would be locked up and dead long ago. Her laughter filled the cargo to the point that she almost didn't hear the comm unit's voice.
"Ms. Ryderana, we'd like to dock now." Cheeks pink with laughter, Ryd moved to the unit and answered quickly.
"All right. I'm opening the hatch." She adjusted the controls and the door noisily made it's way upwards. Ryd watched the shuttle enter, observing the deep color of it's metal hull, the streamlined curves of the wings, and the strange writing on it's side. It was a beautiful shuttle, in blatant contrast to the humanoid that exited the vehicle shortly. It... wait, no he , for the Ferengi was clearly a male, was the ugliest thing she had ever seen.
Like Ryd, he was bald. But any resemblance ended there. The Ferengi was quite short- 5'3" at the most. She guessed his age to be around 18. His skin was a putrid orange shade, with brown overtones that for a even the darkest skinned human would entail months in the sun. His ears were larger than those of an Andromedan's, and piled above them was his huge, lumpy cranium. Ryd could only wonder what sort of brain was hidden beneath
He turned to her, letting Ryd notice for the first time that there was a small black tattoo on one bump on his head. She could not quite make out the details of the symbol, but it seemed to be ovals eating each other. Strange. Very strange.
The Ferengi spoke: "Greetings, Ryderana-"
"Ryd."
"...Ryd. I'm Morg of the Mor-jih Consortium. You wanted T'gra, and, although it took quite awhile, I finally got it." He gestured vaguely towards the shuttle. Ryd pursed her lips together untilthey almost faded into nothingness.
"I want to see it." The Ferengi, looking puzzled, glanced up. "Now." Ryd demanded. Morg curtly nodded his head and rushed into his vehicle. When he returned, he was dragging a large wooden crate--the old fashioned kind--behind him. Ryd observed with some surprise the ease he pulled the box along with, and realized how strong the small man was. Her eyes drifted down to his arms, where she could just make out faint, rippling muscles. Ryd quickly hid her slight admiration as he stood to face her.
"Here it is. My payment?" Ryd reached into the box and pulled out a vile. So far, so good-it looked like T'gra. But, with a critical eye, she unplugged it, inhaling deeply.
"It's T'gra... oh, thank you little Ferengi man!" Ryd was suddenly near tears. She hadn't had T'gra since before she'd been in the prison, and suddenly, she was feeling very nostalgic.
Morg just nodded and repeated himself, "My payment?"
"Oh yes..." she said, sniffling, the vile still clutched in her hands, "Follow me."
*******************************************************************
Morg watched as the Gergian girl left him in the cargo bay, dragging the box of T'gra after her. He had his payment: two handmade swords. Now all that remained was the other payment. The Ferengi waited at the door before he heard no footsteps remain, then ran out into the hallway and down a jumptube to the engine room.
He pulled out his hyperwrench, bending over and going straight to work. He set the needed pieces on the floor next to him as he removed them, his mind shutting all else off. He was so entrapped in his work that he did not hear approaching footsteps...
"What's going on here?!"
He turned.
Morg had always said he didn't believe in love at first sight. Infatuation at first sight, lust at first sight, maybe, but not love. But the woman he saw changed his perspective -- she was like an angel. Everything about her, from her bright blue eyes to the braids that crowned her head to the gray wings that hung from her back, was perfect. She was dressed in pajamas, as if she had just woken up, but she still looked great. Morg's jaw dropped slightly; he struggled with words.
"I - I -"
"Who are you?!" she demanded. Her voice seemed to strike the core of the Ferengi's being.
"I'm Morg, of the Mor-jih Consortium. I'm from the Ferengi Ship the Profit Winner," he quickly answered, standing and rushing towards her. He held out his hand, but she ignored it.
"Morg, what are you doing on my ship?"
My ship. The words ran through Morg's head like a bullet. He didn't know much about the Aurora12, but he knew that only one person could claim it as their ship and that was the captain, Nala My'tyah. She was a captain. Morg was in love with a captain. His male hormones started to replace clear thinking.
He leaned against the wall, smiling slyly, "Hey Nala - baby, you make my ears tingle..."
No! No! What are you saying? he screamed to himself. But it was of no use, "Ever hear of oo-mox?"
She slapped him. Morg was thrown to the floor, his hand clutched against his stinging cheek. He felt like crying, but used all his will to hold back the tears.
"You're taking apart my engine!" Nala exclaimed, lifting one of the pieces he had removed. Morg could hear himself mutter something, but it took him a moment to realize that it was "I'd like to take apart your engine, sweetheart." He groaned.
"What did you say?!" Morg shook his head in painful silence. The captain stomped back over to him, her footsteps shaking the floor, and pulled him to his feet. He was so close to her, he could kiss her, if he dared. But he didn't take the chance.
"Now," The Alphardite growled, "I'm sending you back to... what are the Ferengi captains called? Demons?"
"Dai'mon," Morg squeaked.
"I'm sending you back to your Dai'mon and if you ever come near this ship again, don't expect to see the light of day." She let him so that his feet just touched the ground. Then she shoved him, one foot at a time, back towards the shuttle bay and into his shuttle. Morg was so afraid that he didn't even realize he'd left his swords. All he knew was that he'd have to come back some how, to make it up to Nala My'tyah.
Part Two
Month 13, Day 4, 2889
Aboard the shuttle Nebulet
Jin took in a deep breath and leaned back in his seat, tucking his arms behind his head and propping his feet up on the partition. On the viewscreen in front of him the rainbowed lines of stars in subspace shimmered.
He was on his way to Rigel VI with a small shipment of Siscanite computer software in the back of his craft. Just another stop in many in his monotonous lifestyle -- which he was quite sick of. Ever since he has left his older brother in hope of preserving his sanity, Jin had been just eking by from day to day, surviving only on the latinum he'd taken from when he left Mor-jih Consortium and the small amount of money he made on his excursions. He would deliver small cargo from one planet to another or sell acquired items but nothing ever very large because of the size of the shuttle which he had to transport it in. For nearly a standard year, he had been nomadically roaming the galaxy, alone in his shuttle with no actual purpose. Jin was tired of roaming, tired of being alone in the Nebulet and tired of not having a purpose. Sure, it would be all right if his so-called 'business' was profitable or was expanding or even showing any sign of future expansion but it was none of those.
But what could he do to change it? Certainly settling down wasn't an option considering he was only 16 ESY. And neither was going home. . . His father had kicked his brother and him out when he was 14 because their constant bickering tended to be bad for business. Which it was as their father proved statistically. On average, days that Morg and Jin were around compared to days they weren't, profits decreased 15%.
Jin didn't want to go back to living on a Ferengi cruiser, either. He'd done that with Morg and that lifestyle wasn't all that different than the one he was in now except that he would be around a hundred-odd other Ferengi. Which would just mean more competition. Which would in turn bring up the supply of products and bring down the price of goods. What in the name of the Nagus would that be good for?
No, a Ferengi cruiser wasn't the answer either. What about a non-Ferengi ship? Somewhere that he could just give up the whole business hassle. An IMS Starship was out, considering one had to go to an IMS training academy to even be a crew member aboard a vessel... Now that was an idea. An academy? He could get a scholarship and use what he'd been saving from the split-up latinum to pay for tuition.
"Computer," Jin called out. He stood up and walked out of the cock-pit and into his quarters. He sat down in the seat before his personal computer station. "Search for IMS academies and list them."
"Forty-two Interplanetary Monitory Service academy stations found," the computer responded. The list scrolled up on the screen according to planetary location. Andala, Aquito III, Betazed... Jin scrolled down to the Sol-Station's Earth-centered space station academy. It would be easier going straight to the head of departments rather than contacting everyone in the quadrant.
Month 8, Day 14, 2890
The sunlight streaked through the windows, blue, green and red, colored by the stained glass. Ardra stepped through the open door. Her blue silk gown trailed behind her. Her eyes fell on Q'erius in the corner. Of course he would be here... No doubt with a phaser in his pocket and orders from the Syndicate to dispose of her.
Jin looked up from the compubook when the com unit chimed. He quickly set the book down and stood up. Could it be the IMS? Dean Marin at the Sol-Station had informed him that his scholarship request would take about seven months for processing and academy placement and it had been over eight already.
He rushed over to the com unit and dropped into the seat. "Jin," he said simply after the connection was opened. An adult, male human appeared on the screen.
"Hello Jin," the man said, "I'm Dean Higgins at the Tarker II-based space station academy."
The Ferengi's heart jumped into his throat. Had his application been accepted?
"Good day, Dean," Jin said, smiling broadly, if a little forcedly.
Higgins nodded back to him. "I'm contacting you about your application for an IMS academy scholarship." Jin nodded. "Ah, I'm afraid that even with the amount that you mentioned, a scholarship wouldn't be available." Jin's face fell but Higgins continued, "But. They do have and alternative-type academy."
Jin lifted his head quickly, gray eyes lighting up again. "Oh?"
"Yes. There is an IMS starship, the Aurora12," said the Dean, "that is an academy. It's run solely by the students. No tuition is required. Does that sound satisfactory?"
Jin nodded quickly. "That sounds fine!"
"Then they shall be contacted. You'll rendezvous in three days in the orbit of Due'carte Prime."
"Thank you, Dean!" Jin said, now openly grinning and bearing his sharp teeth.
"Good luck," Higgins said, smiling back. The transmission was cut and the Dean's image replaced by the IMS insignia.
"YES!" Jin shouted and pumped his fist. Finally!
By Phoebe North
Aboard the Profit Winner
Desperation
The word pulsed through Morg's veins, laced with fear, bathed in existential dread. He was so desperate, he was almost shaking. He needed those engine parts. No Ferengi in his right mind would go up against an angry Nausicaan's henchmen, and Morg was definitely in his right mind.
So why was he crawling through the jeffries tubes?
They were beyond cramped. The light was almost non-existent, so Morg crawled through blindly, his turbo wrench held between his pointy teeth, seeing only by the occasional spark of electricity that exploded dangerously near his head. His shirt was stuck to the sweaty part of his back, and it rubbed against the metal wall every time he moved. It itched like crazy, but Morg ignored it. He was almost there. His eyes traced the faint gray lines that could only be a door.
Morg reached out his hands and fixed them against the hard metal. It took a moment of pushing, but finally he let out a grunt and the door fell away. He spill into the engine room.
A wave of apprehension ebbed over him. He knew this was wrong... Stealing from an IMS ship was one thing, but stealing from his own was quite another. Dai'mon Zalk hadn't said a word when Morg had been sent back. He just didn't care. Zalk cared about one thing and one thing only: his ship, and THAT was what worried Morg.
The Ferengi man shoved his morals out of his mind. He had to survive, that was all that mattered right now. Who cared if he would probably lose all the money he'd made in the last year...
"I care..." Morg muttered, as he came upon the R25 transponder. He dropped the wrench into his hand and began unscrewing the parts one by one. As the movements became more automatic, more monotonous, his mind began to wander. His father, getting thrown out of his home... if this worked, he'd come into Mov'tar's confidence. Mov'tar, one of the richest, more powerful traders in the Alpha quadrant. Morg could be richer than any man on Ferenginar.
"And dad won't get a dime."
"Will I?"
Morg spun around, the wrench falling to the ground with a clatter. There stood Zalk, scowling. The young Ferengi let out a groan.
"Busted..." he muttered.
Part Four
Nebulet
Jin dropped his large shoulder bag at the entry of the Nebulet and glanced around shortly. For nearly two years, he'd been nomadically living on the little ship and now finally, he would have a chance to get off and spend some time living with other sentient beings. He smiled to himself and turned to walk into the cock pit, thinking about how Morg and his father would throw a fit if or when they found out that he'd join an academy.
He sat down and checked the status of the shuttle's position. Traveling at Warp 2, he'd arrive at Due'carte Prime in a little less than an hour. Jin programmed the computer to notify him when the ship reached the edge of the Due'carte star system and leaned back, allowing himself to be lost in his thoughts.
He reminded himself, not for the first time, how different this ship would be than the Profit Winner and how much he would have to pay attention to his etiquette. He'd done what research he could on the Aurora12 through the IMS and found out a little about it. According to the crew roster in the IMS file, it was a virtual interracial melting pot. There were races from planets in every corner of the quadrant. Unlike on the Ferengi ship, he'd be living with sentients of many other races. Not only living, but working with them unlike the Profit Winner where he was more of a passenger for the short time he was there. Plus, he'd be working with females -- and clothed females at that. Another thing he'd yet to do.
Jin sighed and reassured himself again that things would work out. He'd just have to watch himself and make sure he didn't seriously offend anyone and he'd adjust...
Aurora12
It was a little after 1230 hours and Nala was on her way to the galley when her comm watch beeped at her. "Go ahead," she said and waited.
"The new crew member's shuttle is approaching the ship," Crow's voice said. "Shall I give him the okay for docking?"
"Yes, do," Nala replied. "I'll send a greet down to usher him."
"Aye, Captain," said Crow. The watch chimed at her again as the transmission ended.
The galley doors swept open before Nala as she entered and noticed Serina and Rhys depositing their dishes on the conveyer belt. She walked over to them. "Rhys, Serina," she said and they turned around. "Our new crew member is just now docking. I'd like you two to meet him and show him how to get to the bunk corridors and around the ship, if you would."
Rhys and Ser shared a quick glance and nodded.
"Sure," Rhys said, smiling. He turned to Serina and motioned to the door. Ser followed after him quickly and they headed down the hall, toward the elevator.
<Upper level,> Serina said once they'd entered the shaft. The entry gates shut and the elevator lurched. She glanced over at Rhys, who she noticed was wearing his ''cheerful freak'' uniform as she and Ryd had called it before. Serina looked forward, blinking again from the brightness of the fluorescent pink. The elevator platform moved up, revealing the landing bay with the bay doors wide open, showing the twinkling starfeild. The gates opened just as the small shuttle hovered through the force field with a golden flash of electricity. The bay doors began to close and Rhys and Serina stepped off the platform and started for the shuttle to greet the newcomer.
The shuttle came to a stop and settled down to the bay floor. Serina and Rhys placed themselves a few meters from the airlock of it and a moment later, the hatch wheel began to turn. There was a sucking sound and a pop as the air-tight seal was broken and the door was pushed aside, revealing the passenger.
He stood in the doorway with a carrysack slung over his shoulder and a quite nervous look on his face. He was a few inches taller than Rhys, with orange-tan skin, VERY large ears and a bulbous head to match. His gray eyes glanced around apprehensively before he slowly stepped out of his craft and onto the shuttle bay floor and glanced first from Rhys to Serina, where his eyes widened and he gulped.
"Welcome to the Aurora12," Rhys said cheerily, adding a friendly smile to his greeting. He stepped forward and extended a kind hand to the newcomer. "My name is Rhys," he said as he shook the Ferengi's hand.
<And I'm Serina,> Ser put in, also shaking his hand in turn.
"Jin," the newcomer managed, "my name is Jin."
"Welcome to the ship, Jin," Rhys repeated. "Let's head to the main level." He and Serina turned back toward the elevator and Jin fell into step between them.
<Did they tell Nala they were sending her a Ferengi?> Serina asked of Rhys as she pushed the elevator call button. He only shrugged in response.
Jin glanced from one to the other nervously. That didn't sound good. "Is there something I should know?" he questioned.
Serina shrugged. <It's just that a Ferengi was found on the ship a few weeks ago, taking apart our engine. Hear-tell says he was stealing the parts.> The gates opened and the three stepped into the shaft. <I don't know if Nala's prejudice but... Well. Main Level.> The platform began its descent.
Jin's heart sank. What horribly rotten luck. "What happened to him?" he asked.
<He was sent back to his ship,> Serina replied.
"The Profit Winner," Rhys put in. "I sent them the transmission," he explained when she raised a silver eyebrow at him.
Jin's eyes widened considerably. He swallowed hard. "You didn't happen to hear the name of the Ferengi did you?" he asked.
Rhys paused for a moment in thought and said, "I think it was Morg."
Jin groaned.
*********************************************************************
The Command Post doors slid open in front of Jin and he cautiously entered, receiving curious glances from crew members seated at their consoles. He turned to the Ops console where a blue-haired girl and a wild-eyed girl were seated.
"The Captain's in her ready-room," the blue-haired girl told him, anticipating his question.
"Thanks." Jin quickly cleared the space between himself and the ready-room door and pressed the comm on the wall. The door wooshed open a moment later to reveal Nala, whom he had spoken with earlier, sitting at her desk. She was a very large woman, even seated, although her body was muscular and lithe. Her coppery hair glinted in the artificial light and gray wings poked up from behind her. Nala looked up from the compupad she was reading off of and placed it down on her desk as Jin entered.
"Hello again, Jin," she said and motioned to a seat on the other side of her desk. He quickly slipped into it. "How can I help you?"
"Captain, I know I just arrived here," Jin began, fidgeting slightly in the seat, "but I'd like to request a short leave of absence."
Nala looked mildly surprised. "May I ask why?" she inquired.
"Ah... Well, you see, Captain, I just found out that my older brother has gotten into a little trouble..." he said, stammering slightly. "And no one else knows, really. So I'm the only one to get him out of it... I wouldn't be gone for too long though, maybe a day or two."
Nala leaned back in her seat for a moment before replying. "I don't see why not," she said. "You haven't started classes and you're not yet on the duty roster so it won't make that great of a difference to delay it by a few days. Permission granted."
A slight smile spread across Jin's face and he stood. "Thank you, Captain."
Part Five
By Phoebe North and Kimberly Smith
Jin glanced at either side at the two Ferengi officers from the Profit Winner where he now was. They were escorting him to the brig where his brother was being held. They rounded the corner and stepped into the room. The two officers nodded to the ward and turned to leave. Jin looked toward one of the cells where Morg was on the other side of a force-field. Morg was tied to the back of a chair. His head was low, in some dream. Evidently about a girl, from the size of his smile. A thin line of drool led from his mouth to the cold floor below.
Jin sighed and shook his head. He slowly walked toward the holding cell, tucking his hands behind his back. He watched his older brother for a moment before shouting quite loudly, "MORG!"
Morg's head snapped up with a start. He sucked in the drool and squinted, as if not believing his eyes, "J-Jin?! Brother, is that you?!"
Jin's eyelids were half-lowered as he spoke. "Yes. It's me."
Morg edged his chair up an inch. He looked panicked. "Jin! You gotta get me out of here! They... they have Glemmening! I think they're going to eat her!"
Jin stared at him for a moment. "You're locked in the brig of your own ship and you're worried about a hamster?!"
"Guinea pig!" Morg snapped, old prejudices against his brother surfacing.
Jin rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Why should I get you out?"
Morg let out a peel of thin laughter, his nervousness showing, "Brother, brother, blood binds us... no, of course that isn't enough. How about a partnership? I've heard about how your business is doing. Surely, some extra latinum would be appreciated."
"Actually, that's not much of a worry to me anymore," Jin replied. "I'm not doing much business anymore. I've joined an academy."
Morg 's jaw dropped. His expression was one of disgust. "An academy?! Are you nuts?! Brother... how can you turn your back on your Ferengi roots like this?" He grew quiet for a moment, scowling. The expression was one Jin recognized immediately. Morg was hatching something.
"Jin," his tone was frank, "Do you remember how when Fafa threw us out... how we vowed to show him how profitable we could be and rub it in his face? I had your word and you had mine. It was a deal. I'm not some gullible hew-mon, or something. Deal's a deal, brother."
Jin crossed his arms, scowling. "All right," he gave in reluctantly, quickly continuing, "But I will not be able to give it all my time. And I will not leave the Aurora12. I had to wait over a year to find an academy, I'm not just going to leave!"
"Ok, brother..." Morg sounded slightly suspicious, "Part time and thirty percent of profits, minus my t..." He gazed upwards at Jin's expression and quickly changed his words, "I was going to say minus my ten percent finders fee, but since we're family, I'll leave that out."
"How very gracious of you, brother," Jin said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "All right. Then we have a deal... I suppose we'll have to write up the documentation after we get out of here."
"Thanks, Jin, so mu..." Morg paused, frowning, mid sentence. "Did you say Aurora12? Oh no! Oh no!" the Ferengi let out cries of agony. "Nala said she'd kill me! You'll defend me, right?"
Jin shrugged. "I'll do my best," he said simply. He cleared his throat and turned, swaggering over to the ward. "Good day, sir," he said, smiling coyly.
The unusually bulky Ferengi man frowned at him, but didn't look him in the eye. "'Llo," he grunted gruffly. Jin flashed a suave smile.
"Sir, what would it take to get my brother out of here?" he said, in a confident tone. The ward looked him up and down, his gaze disapproving.
"I don't barter with children," he growled. Morg let out a snicker, but the look his brother gave him quickly brought silence. Jin turned back to the man.
"Would ten strips of gold-pressed latinum do it?"
The ward only laughed. "Don't toy with me, boy."
A flash of annoyance lighted Jin's face, but he quickly shook his irritation away and pressed on, "Eleven strips."
"Sixteen."
"Thirteen," Jin pushed on, without skipping a beat. The guard leaned forward.
"Fifteen." Jin's expression changed. Defeat. He held out his hand and shook the larger man's heartily. Then he turned, back to his brother.
"C'mon, Morg, find your hamster, we're going home," Jin said as the ward shut off the cell's force field and untied the former prisoner from the chair.
"Guinea Pig!"
"Whatever."
Profit Is As Profit Does is (c) Copyright 1998, Phoebe North and Kimberly Smith. All rights reserved, no one may copy or publiscize any portion of this story without prior permission from both of the authors. Ferengi and all affiliated entities are copyright Paramount Pictures and used without consent. No copyright infringement intended.
All comments to be sent to Phoebe and Kim.
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