Ahn of Deep Space Nine

A fan-novel, based on Anne of Green Gables by Lucy Maud Montgomery and STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE.

DISCLAIMER: This was written solely for the sake of fun. No money is being made here, and no copyright infringement is intended. Takes place after "What You Leave Behind," the final episode of Deep Space Nine.

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EPISODE I
Commander Kira is Surprised

Commander Kira Nerys stood, silent and alone, before the windows on the third level of the Promenade. Her location was considered the most ideal on space station Deep Space Nine, for it offered the clearest view of the wormhole. Whenever a ship crossed this mysterious gateway, all of space erupted in a commotion of electric blue lights. Of course, by the time the rays reached her eyes, it flowed clear and bright, for not even the tiniest particle could float past her field of vision without regard for decency and decorum. Perhaps space was conscious that she was looking out, keeping a sharp eye on everything that passed, from starships to space dust, and if she noticed anything odd or out of place, she would never rest until she had figured out the whys and wherefores thereof.

There are plenty of people on Deep Space Nine and out of it who could attend closely to their neighbor's business by dint of neglecting their own. But Commander Kira was one of those capable creatures who could manage her own concerns and those of other folks in the bargain. For three years now, the Bajoran had been the station's head administrator; her work was always done and well done; her reputation was fast approaching that of her esteemed predecessor. Yet with all this, Commander Kira managed to find time to stand for hours at the window, keeping a sharp eye on the vast starry space in front of her.

She was standing again one morning, when she spotted the runabout Nile placidly moving away from the station. On the level below, Chief Engineer I'tanij was fixing a power conduit...alone. Her assistant, Lieutenant Nog, should also have been present. Commander Kira knew this because the Bolian had requested additional help during the staff meeting the night before. The Ferengi had quickly volunteered, for he was young and eager to prove himself reliable. Yet here was

I'tanij, in the middle of a busy morning, working alone. And when Kira checked the departure lists, she learned that the shuttle was piloted by none other than Lieutenant Nog himself.

Now, where was Nog headed and why?

Had it been any other person on Deep Space Nine, Commander Kira, deftly putting the details together, might have given a pretty good guess as to both questions. But Nog was one of the most dutiful officers alive; he so rarely left the station that it must have been something pressing and unusual which had taken him. Kira, ponder as she might, could make nothing of it and her morning ritual was spoiled.

"I'll just drop by his uncle Quark's bar. Maybe he knows something," she finally concluded. "If Nog needed more parts or tools, he wouldn't take a shuttle to go for more; and if something was wrong with his father on Ferenginar, he wouldn't have left alone. As much as Quark can't stand Rom, they're still family. Yet something must have happened since last night to start him off. I'm puzzled, and I won't have peace of mind until I get some answers."

Accordingly, Kira set out; she had not far to go; Quark's bar was just one level below. It would be another two hours before it opened. The doors were closed, and the lights were on at half power. Peeking inside, Kira could see Quark, surrounded by several scantily clad Dabo girls. "Let me guess," she thought with a smirk. "He's discussing the new dental insurance plan." With this, Kira rang the door chime.

"Good morning Commander," Quark said briskly as the doors swung back. As Kira marched in, he made dismissive gestures towards the Dabo girls. "You're a bit early. I was just discussing the new employee dental plan."

"So, what'll it be today? Quark continued, motioning Kira towards the bar. "The usual raktegeno, or maybe something with a little more substance. I just added four new flavors of Andorian breakfast cubes to the replicator menu..."

Kira paused for a moment, then came forward, taking a seat. "Thank you." she said, smiling faintly. "I've already eaten. I just dropped by to see how things were going and to...speak with your nephew about the new maintenance schedule. He's usually in here about this time, isn't he?" Kira cringed on the inside. She hated such false displays of pleasantries, but a decade of experience taught her that directness was not the best way to get answers from a Ferengi.

Something that for lack of any other name might be called a reluctant acquaintance existed and always had existed between Commander Kira and Quark, in spite of - or perhaps because of - their personalities. Though Kira could be obstinate, she was at heart a woman of kind disposition and sincere conscience. Though Quark was capable of similar acts, in essence he was driven by a conniving nature.

"Oh!" Quark smiled knowingly. He had been expecting Kira's visit; he knew full well that his nephew's leaving so unexpectedly would be too much for her curiosity.

"Lieutenant Nog's not on the station right now," he said matter-of-factly. "He's gone to Bajor to pick up my son. I'm getting an orphan from the asylum at Rivan."

If Quark had said that he had been elected Kai, Kira could not have been more astonished. She was actually stricken dumb for five seconds. Quark knew better than to make fun of her, but Kira immediately suspected it.

Are you serious?" she demanded when voice returned to her.

"Yes, of course," said Quark, as if getting children from orphan asylums on Bajor were part of the usual business at any well-regulated bar instead of being an unheard-of innovation.

Kira felt as if she had received a severe plasma shock. She thought in exclamation points. "A son! Quark of all people adopting a child! The fire caves must be freezing over! I suppose nothing will surprise me after this! Nothing!"

"When did this come about?" she asked, even more demandingly. After all, Quark made a move without here advice being asked, and must perforce be disapproved.

"Well, I've been thinking about it for some time, ever since Captain Sisko's passing. I don't know about you, but this really made me realize how unpredictable life is. Despite all he did for this station and for the entire Alpha quadrant, fate still snatched him from us, just like that. Still, he has Jake and Azran, two fine sons to carry on his legacy. But what about me? Marriage isn't likely in my future, and you've seen the rest of my family. Ever since my brother was made Nagus, he's been trying to change the laws of the universe. Nog's no better. He's gone and sold his soul to Starfleet. As for my cousin Gaila, well, he's one inch away from the looney bin. I need someone I can trust, Commander, someone I can mold in my own image. I mean, someone has to carry on my legacy."

Quark stepped back, spreading his arms out wide. "I need to know that my empire will survive."

"And you don't mind if your 'heir' is Bajoran?"

"Why should I? Quark said with a shrug. "If it weren't for you people, I wouldn't be where I am today. Besides, there are plenty of children on Bajor desperate for a good home. I'm getting an older boy, so I can start teaching him the ropes right away. You never know where you'll be tomorrow. I've completed all the paperwork and the interviews, and the Vedeks approved my application yesterday. I would've gone to get him myself, but the last time I left these morons in charge, they let Morn come in and drink my entire stock of Norsican ale. Hasn't paid me back yet."

"Does anyone else know about this?" Kira asked.

"It was going to be a surprise...you're the first to know."

Commander Kira prided herself on always speaking her mind; she proceeded to speak it now, having adjusted her mental attitude to this amazing piece of news.

"If you don't mind my saying, Quark, don't you think you're taking a big risk? You don't know what you're getting yourself into. You're bringing a CHILD onto this station and into your home. You don't know a single thing about him or what his disposition is like nor what sort of life he's had nor how he's likely to turn out. And then there's the boy! The children in those asylums have lived through horrible conditions - the Occupation, the Dominion war. You can't just bring him here, in the middle of deep space, and set him to work on your Dabo wheels! If you had asked my advice in this matter...which you didn't do, I'd have said that for Prophets' sake, not to think of such a thing."

These comments seemed neither to offend nor to alarm Quark. "I don't deny there's something in what you say, Commander. I'll be the first to admit that this is a pretty big gamble. But I feel lucky about this, and it's so seldom that I feel lucky about anything these days that I just have to follow it through. As for the risk, there's risks in everything one does in this universe. There's risks in people having children of their own. Besides, he's Bajoran - he can't be much different from yourself."

"Well, I do hope things work out for the best," said Kira in a tone that plainly indicated painful doubt. "Only don't say I didn't warn you if they don't. Just remember, children don't come with money-back guarantees."

Kira would have liked to stay until Nog came home with the orphan. But reflecting that it would be several hours before his arrival she decided to go to Ops and spread the news. It would certainly cause a sensation second to none. So, she took herself away, somewhat to Quark's relief, for he felt his doubts and fears reviving under the influence of the Commander's pessimism.

"Just when you thought things couldn't get more interesting!" Kira thought as she entered the turbolift. "It's so weird to think of Quark raising a child. But then, one way or another, I suppose it was inevitable. At any rate, may the Prophets help them...and us as well."

So said Commander Kira Nerys as she exited into Ops; but if she could have seen the child who was waiting patiently at the asylum in Rivan Province that very moment her pity would have been deeper and more profound.

- - - - -

EPISODE II
Lieutenant Nog is Surprised

The runabout Nile sailed effortlessly across the bright blue skies of the Rivan Province. Below lay fertile land, with lush green grass running between snug farms, with now and again a bit of forest or a river where a rainbow of berries hung out their filmy bloom. The air was sweet with the breath of flowers, though the Lieutenant could not smell it from inside the vessel.

As the shuttle approached the asylum grounds, Nog saw no sign of anyone outside. At first, he thought they were all at afternoon prayer. He landed the runabout in the first available clearing, and headed towards the grounds on foot. As he walked up a long dirt pathway, he barely caught sight of a Cardassian girl sitting in a chair at the far end of the entrance.

Nog, barely noticing the girl, walked past her as quickly as possible without a look. Had he looked he could hardly have failed to notice the tense rigidity and expectation of her attitude and expression. She was sitting there waiting for something or somebody and, since sitting and waiting was the only thing to do just then, she sat and waited with all her might and main. As Nog crossed the entrance, he was greeted by a young woman wearing a bright orange hooded robe.

"Ah, you must be Lieutenant Nog from Deep Space Nine, she said, heartily shaking the officer's hand. "I'm very pleased to meet you. My name is Vedek Avrel. I'll be handling the final details of the adoption today."

"Strange," Nog thought. "Uncle Quark never mentioned a Vedek Avrel. He told me that Vedek Moriel, the head administrator, was in charge of the whole matter."

"I'm pleased to meet you too," Nog replied. "But I was told by my Uncle to meet with Vedek Moriel."

"I apologize, but Vedek Moriel was called away this morning on an emergency. But don't worry, I have been fully informed of your case."

Vedek Avrel took a data padd from beneath her robe. She paused for a moment, reading, then looked up with a broad smile. "Since all the paperwork has been completed, all that's really left is to turn the child over to you. It's a shame your uncle couldn't come himself, but I suppose they will have plenty of time to get acquainted on the station. So, if you have no objections, I can bring the child out now."

Nog nodded his approval, and the Vedek exited the room through the same door which Nog had entered. A moment later, she returned...and behind her was the Cardassian girl from outside.

"Her name is Kor Morel," she said, letting her go in front of Nog. The girl quickly scurried behind the Vedek's robes. "I had asked her to wait inside, but she informed me that she preferred to stay outside. 'There is more scope for imagination,' she said. Child's really something, I must say."

"Oh...I wasn't expecting HER," said Nog blankly. "SHE isn't who I came for. You must have made a mistake."

"A mistake?" Avrel paused, referring again to her data padd. "There's no mistake," she said.

"According to our records, your uncle requested a child of sound mind and good health between the age of ten and fourteen. As you can see, the child fits all said criteria."

"That's not what I meant," said Nog helplessly, wishing that his Uncle was at hand to cope with the situation. "I meant that he said he wanted a...he was set on getting a..."

The thought was so clear in his mind. "He wanted a BAJORAN BOY, for goodness sakes. Perhaps my Uncle didn't specifically state that on the application, but I know that's what he meant!"

The Vedek stared at Nog, lost. She really DIDN'T know. The Ferengi could feel his pulse quicken, and his ears began to numb.

"If you believe there was a mistake, sir..." the Vedek insisted.

Nog looked at the girl. Kor Morel looked about ten years of age, with bright blue eyes and a set of well-defined ridges. She was dressed in a very short, very tight, very ugly dark blue jumper which gave her pale gray skin an unhealthy cast. Her hair was long and a bright reddish brown - the latter he had never seen before in the species. The girl stood curiously behind Avrel the whole time, clutching a brown satchel close to her chest.

In these brief seconds, an extraordinary observer may have seen how this child's eyes were full of spirit and vivacity; that her mouth was sweet-lipped and expressive; and that her face was pleasant and full. In short, our discerning observer might have concluded that no common-place soul inhabited the body of this stray woman-child of whom Nog was so wary.

After a brief pause, Nog extended his hand to the scrawny little child. He couldn't tell her, or Vedek Avrel that there had been a mistake...he would take her home and let Quark do that. After a rather awkward introduction, Nog was free to take his new cousin home. The walk from the asylum was passed in silence, with the girl walking several paces behind. Halfway down the road, Nog stopped and turned around.

"It's going to be a long walk to the runabout, so why don't you give me your bag?"

"Oh, I can carry it, Cousin," Kor Morel responded cheerfully. "It isn't heavy. I've got all my worldly goods in it, but it isn't heavy. And if it isn't carried in just a certain way the strap cuts into your hand, so I'd better keep it because I know the exact knack of it. It's an extremely old bag. Oh, I'm so very glad you've come, even through I'm not who you expected. Have we a long trip to make? Vedek Moriel said Deep Space Nine is three hours from Bajor. I'm glad because I want to get a good look along the way. I've never been in space before, and the only time I see the stars are at night. Oh, it seems so wonderful that I'm going to live with your uncle on a space station. I've lived in many places before, but I've never really had a family. And of all those places, the asylum was the worst. I've only been in it for a year, but that was enough. I don't suppose you ever were an orphan in an asylum, so you can't possibly understand what it is like. It's worse than anything you could imagine. I know it's a sin for me to talk like that, and I don't mean to be wicked. It's so easy to be wicked without knowing it, isn't it? They were very good, you know, the Vedeks. But there is so little scope for the imagination in an asylum...only just in the other orphans. It was pretty interesting to imagine things about them...to imagine that perhaps the little Bajoran boy who sat next to me at lunch was really the son of rebels, who had been killed freeing prisoners of war. I used to lie awake at nights and imagine things like that, because I didn't have time in the day. I guess that's why I am so thin - I AM dreadful thin, aren't I? You can feel my bones just sticking out. I do love to imagine I'm nice and plump, so my neck ridges will space out evenly."

With this, Nog's companion stopped talking, partly because she was out of breath and partly because they had reached the runabout. Not another word did she say until they had entered space. Morel, sitting in the pilot seat opposite Nog, gazed wide-eyed at the viewscreen.

"Isn't that beautiful, cousin? What do the stars, all white and shimmering, make you think of?" she asked.

"Well now, I don't know," said Nog.

"Why, a gown, of course...a long black gown sprinkled with white crystals. I've never seen one for real, but I can imagine what it would look like. I don't ever expect to wear such a lovely thing myself. I'm so homely I wouldn't do it justice. But I do hope that some day I shall have a nice dress. That is my highest ideal of mortal bliss. I just love pretty clothes. I've never had a pretty dress in my life, but of course, it's all the more to look forward to, isn't it? And then I can imagine that I'm dressed gorgeously. This morning when I got dressed I felt so ashamed because I was going to meet you wearing this ragged old dress. All the orphans are dressed like this, you know. An Orion merchant donated yards and yards of this blue cloth to the asylum. Some people said it was because he couldn't sell it, but I'd rather believe that it was out of the kindness of his heart, wouldn't you?"

"When I first got my dress, I felt as if I were the most pitiful creature alive. But I just went to work and imagined that I had on the most beautiful blue velvet suit...because when you ARE imagining you might as well imagine something worth while...with my hair all pinned up and latinum bracelets on my wrists and matching shoes. I felt cheered up right away. I may not have a blue velvet suit either, but at least I'll have a decent dress. I just love it already, and I'm so glad I'm going to live on a space station. I've always heard that Deep Space Nine was an interesting place, it being the home of the Emissary and all. I once imagined I was living there, but I never really expected that I would. It's delightful when your imaginations come true, isn't it? But then there's the wormhole. I always believed it had its source in the souls of the Prophets themselves, until I heard the Orion say that it's controlled by little aliens living inside. I once asked Vedek Tola what made the wormhole work she said she didn't know and for Prophet's sake not to ask so many questions. She said I must have asked her over a thousand already. I suppose I had, too, but how does one find out about things if they don't ask questions? And what DOES make the wormhole work?"

"Well, it's kind of a long story," said Nog apprehensively. "Perhaps I'll tell it to you later." As much he liked the girl, he was determined to keep an emotional distance. He knew that the odds were against there being a "later."

"Well, that is one of the things to find out sometime," Morel cheerfully replied. "Isn't it splendid to think of all the things there are to find out about? It just makes me feel glad to be alive...it's such an interesting universe. It wouldn't be half so interesting if we knew all about everything, would it? There'd be no scope for imagination then, would there? But am I talking too much? People are always telling me I do. Would you rather I didn't talk, cousin? If you say so I'll stop. I can STOP when I make up my mind to it, although it's difficult."

Nog, much to his own surprise, was enjoying himself. He had never expected to enjoy the society of a Cardassian. His childhood memories were filled with images of heavy-handed Guls and arrogant Legates. He disliked their condescending voices, and the way they had of sliding past him, with haughty glances, as if he were a social inferior. But Kor Morel was very different, and although he sometimes found it difficult to keep up with her brisk mental processes, he "kind of liked her chatter." So he replied:

"Oh, you can talk as much as you like. I don't mind."

"I'm so very glad. I know you and Mr. Quark and I are going to get along splendidly. It doesn't matter that you both are Ferengi and I'm a Cardassian. Being different just makes life all the more interesting. It's such a relief when people accept you for what you are and not criticize you or try to change you. And people laugh at me because I use big words. But if you have big ideas wouldn't it be PRUDENT to use big words to express them? "

"Well now, that seems reasonable," said Nog.

"Vedek Tola said that my tongue should be tied. It can't be done - the thread just keeps falling off. She also said she was quite glad to see me go off to a space station in the sky. And when she said that, I was gladder than ever. I just love the stars. One night, not too long ago, I looked up and the sky was pure black...except for one tiny star to the east. It looked so alone and so far away that it reminded me of a little lost orphan. I wanted to reach out to that star and say, 'Oh, don't be so sad, you are not alone. I know exactly how you feel!' Do you think if I tried hard enough, I could find that star?"

"Well, anything's possible."

"Fancy. It's always been one of my dreams to live in space. I never expected I would, though. Dreams don't often come true, do they? Wouldn't it be nice if they did? But just now I feel pretty nearly perfectly happy. I can't feel exactly perfectly happy because, well, what color would you call this?"

Morel pulled a strand of her long hair over her thin shoulder and held it up before Nog's eyes. Nog was not used to deciding on the tints of ladies' tresses, but in this case there couldn't be much doubt.

"Well, it's very RED." he decided.

The girl let the strand drop back with a sigh that seemed to come from her very toes and to exhale forth all the sorrows of the ages.

"Now you can see why I can't be perfectly happy. I don't mind being Cardassian, but no Cardassian has hair like mine. Try as I might, I cannot even imagine it away. I do my best. I think to myself, 'Now my hair is a glorious black, black as a raven's wing.' But all the time I KNOW it is this unholy color and it breaks my heart. It will be my lifelong sorrow. I read of a girl once in a book who had a lifelong sorrow but it wasn't her hair. It was her true love, a prince who died tragically. A sorcerer cast an evil spell 'upon his noble head.' You wouldn't happen to know what a 'noble' color is, would you?"

"I'm afraid not," said Nog, who was getting a little dizzy. He felt as he had once felt when he was six years old and another boy had enticed him into drinking a glass of Sorian brandy.

"Well, whatever it was it must have been something nice because he was divinely handsome. Have you ever imagined what it must feel like to be divinely handsome?"

"Well now, no, I haven't," confessed Nog ingenuously.

"I have, often. Which would you rather be if you had the choice - divinely handsome, wonderfully clever or prophetically good?"

"Well now, I...I don't know exactly."

"Neither do I. I can never decide. But it doesn't make much real difference for it isn't likely I'll ever be any of the three. It's certain I'll never be prophetically..."

"Look ahead!" Nog said, interrupting her for the very first time. In the viewscreen, the image of space station Deep Space Nine came closer and closer into sight. Its size seemed to strike the child dumb. She leaned back into the chair, her thin hands clasped before her, blue eyes lifted rapturously to the brightly lit structure before her. Even after the Nile was docked and they were headed out the airlock, Morel still didn't speak. With her heart beating fast, she followed her cousin onto the Promenade.

Nog led Kor Morel past several shops, with their blinking lights and signs in various alien script. Then they boarded a turbolift, which took them to the Habitat Ring. All the while, Bajorans, Federation Officers, and other denizens of the station offered their smiles and curious looks. The Lieutenant responded with a friendly nod and the occasional greeting. Meanwhile, the girl said nothing. She could keep silent, it was evident, as energetically as she could talk.

"I suppose you're pretty tired," Nog ventured to say as they exited the turbolift, accounting for her long stint of dumbness with the only reason he could think of. "But we haven't very far to go now."

Just then, the girl came out of her reverie with a deep sigh and looked at him with the dreamy gaze of a soul that had been wondering afar, star-led.

"Oh, Cousin," she whispered, "that place we came through...what was it?"

"Well now, you must mean the Promenade," said Nog after a few moments' profound reflection. "It's kind of an interesting place."

"Kind of? Oh, that doesn't seem the right word to use. Nor beautiful, either. They don't go far enough. Oh, it was wonderful, simply wonderful. It's the first thing I ever saw that couldn't be improved upon by imagination. It just satisfies me here" - she put one hand across her heart - "it made a queer funny ache and yet it was a pleasant ache. Did you ever have an ache like that?"

"Well now, I can't remember that I ever had."

"I have it all the time, whenever I see anything incredibly beautiful. But they shouldn't call that lovely place the Promenade. There is no meaning in a name like that. They should call it...let me see...the 'Pathway to Heaven.' Isn't that a nice imaginative name? When I don't like the name of a place or a person I always imagine a new one and always think of them so. There was another Cardassian girl at the asylum whose name was Jel Rona, but I always imagined her as Mayzani Palar. Other people may call that place the Promenade, but I shall always call it the Pathway to Heaven. Have we really a short distance before we get home? I'm glad and I'm sorry. I'm sorry because this trip has been so pleasant and I'm always sorry when pleasant things end. Something better may be yet to come, but you can never be sure. And it's so often the case that it isn't better. That has been my experience anyhow. But I'm glad to think of getting home. You see, I've never had a real home as long as I can remember. It gives me that pleasant ache again just to think of coming to a really truly home."

As the made their way down the corridor, Morel heard a high-pitched squeak from behind. She looked back, catching sight of a large, orange colored Terran feline. It sat against the wall, placidly licking its paw.

"Oh, What is THAT?!" she exclaimed, running to see. The cat stopped licking, and curiously sniffed at her feet.

"That's Saturn, the Sisko's pet cat." Nog explained.

"Why is it called Saturn?"

Nog turned around, and came to her side. With a smile, he bent down, stroking its soft warm fur. "He's named for a planet in the Terran system. They're both round, large, and bright orange. But the cat is definitely better-looking."

"Saturn is a very pretty name and a very pretty cat. And do the Siskos any children?"

"Well there's Jake, he's the same age as me. He owns and writes for the Deep Space Times...that's our newspaper here. And there's his little brother Azran. He's just turned three. He likes to paint and play tee-ball in the holosuite."

"I can't wait to meet Jake and little Azran. And I would love to play with Saturn the cat."

Suddenly, the smile that was on Nog's face faded. He motioned for the girl to come. "Maybe later. We'd better keep going. I'm sure that Uncle Quark is very...eager to meet you."

The girl nodded obediently. "Goodbye for now Saturn," she said, patting the cat on the head. The creature looked at her for a moment longer, then resumed its paw licking.

When she returned, he took her hand. "We're pretty near home now. That's his quarters over..."

"Oh, don't tell me," she interrupted breathlessly. "Please let me guess. I'm sure I'll guess right."

From one door to another the girl's blue eyes darted, eager and wistful. Though they were clearly marked with the names of its inhabitants, they were all written in Federation English. The child could only read Bajoran. At last, her eyes lingered on one door at the far end of the corridor.

"That's it, isn't it?" she said, pointing.

Nog smiled. "Well now, you've guessed it! But I suppose one of the Vedeks must have told you."

"No they didn't, really. l hadn't any real idea what it looked like. But just as soon as I saw it I felt it was home. Oh, it seems as if I must be in a dream. Do you know, my arm must be black and blue from the elbow up, for I've pinched myself so many times today. Every little while a horrible feeling would come over me and I'd be so afraid that it was all a dream. Then I'd pinch myself to see if it was real...until suddenly I remembered that even supposing it was only a dream I'd better go on dreaming as long as I could; so I stopped pinching. But it IS real and I AM nearly home."

With a sigh of rapture she relapsed into silence. Nog stirred uneasily. He felt glad that it would be Quark and not he who would have to tell this orphan of the universe that the home she longed for was not to be hers after all. By the time they reached the door, Nog was shrinking from the approaching revelation with an energy he did not understand. It was not of uncle Quark or himself he was thinking of, nor the trouble this mistake was probably going to make for them, but of the child's disappointment. When he thought of that light in her eyes being snuffed, he had a dark terrible feeling, as if he were about to kill something in the center of her heart.

Swallowing hard, Nog leaned forward and rang the door chime.

- - - - -


EPISODE III
Quark is Surprised

Quark came briskly forward and opened the door. But when his eyes fell on the odd little figure in the ugly dress, with the long auburn hair and the wide blue eyes, he stopped short in his tracks.

"Who's THIS?" he stammered.

"Uncle, this is the child you asked for," said Nog timidly.

"She is NOT!" exclaimed Quark.

"The Vedeks said she was the one." Nog insisted. "And at any rate, I couldn't just leave her there."

During this dialogue Kor Morel had remained silent, her eyes roving from one to the other, all the animation fading out of her face. Suddenly she seemed to grasp the full meaning of what was being said. Dropping her precious bag she jumped back a step.

"You don't want me!" she cried. "You don't want me because I'm Cardassian! I should've expected it. The Bajorans don't want me either. I should've known it was too good to be true. I should've known no one really wanted me. Take me back to Rivan...take me back now!"

With that, the girl burst into tears. Nog and Quark looked at each other with despair as the child moaned and cried. Neither of them knew what to say or do. Finally, Quark stepped lamely into the breach.

"There, now, there's no need for all that."

"Yes, there IS need!" The child looked up at him, revealing tear-stained cheeks and trembling lips. "YOU would cry, too, if you were an orphan and had come to a place you thought was going to be home and found that they didn't want you simply because you were Cardassian. Oh, this is the most HUMILIATING thing that has ever happened to me!"

Quark paused, and rolled his eyes.

"Hey now...stop that. Don't cry any more. I'm not going to dump you into the street. You'll stay here until everything's been cleared up. What's your name?"

The child hesitated for a moment.

"Kor Morel" reluctantly faltered forth the owner of that name, "but, oh, please do call me Ahn. My given name is Morel, but lately, I've taken to calling myself Ahn. At any rate, it can't matter much to you what you call me since I'm only going to be here a little while, can it?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" said Quark. "Morel's a good name. You shouldn't be ashamed of it."

"Oh, I'm not ashamed of it," the child explained, "only I like Ahn better. Of all the names, I think it is the prettiest. However, you must be careful to pronounce it just right...'AUHN' NOT 'ANN'."

"What difference does it make what name I use?" asked Quark, rolling his eyes again.

"Oh, it makes SUCH a difference. One LOOKS so much nicer. When you hear a name pronounced can't you always see it in your mind, just as if it was printed out? I can, and A-H-N looks so much more beautiful. It reminds me of flowers and cool morning air. M-O-R-E-L, on the other hand, reminds me of cold fish stew. If you'll only call me Ahn, it'll make me feel a lot better."

"Very well, then, AHN, how about explaining why the Vedeks chose you?

"Oh, yes. It began last week, when all us orphans were outside, pulling weeds in the garden. We hadn't been out very long when one of the Vedeks called us to attention. We were told to stand in line, and to look sharp. Then, Vedek Moriel came. He's VERY busy with the business of keeping us alive, so he hardly ever comes to see us. Without a word, Vedek Moriel walked up and down the line, generally looking us all over. Then when he was finished, we were told we could leave. I was on my way out the door when he told me to stay behind. After everyone was gone, he looked me in the eye and asked if I'd like to live in the stars. You don't know how delighted I was. I couldn't sleep all that night for joy."

"Oh," she added reproachfully, turning to Nog, "why didn't you tell the Vedeks that your uncle didn't want me and leave me there? If I hadn't seen the stars and the Pathway to Heaven it wouldn't be so hard."

"What does she mean?" demanded Quark, staring at Nog.

"She - she's just referring to some conversation we had on the way here," said the Lieutenant hastily. "It's been a long trip. Why don't I go and fix us all something to eat?"

With that, Nog eased his way out of the room. After an awkward pause, Quark forced himself to make conversation. Though he wasn't terribly interested in the girl, he felt the least he could do was make her more comfortable.

"So Ahn, did you have many friends at Rivan?"

"I had a few. My best friend was a little girl named Selin Gal. She has freckles and five perfect little ridges on her nose. If I had freckles and ridges on my nose would you keep me?"

Quark refused to answer, and the two remained silent until Nog called them both to the table. While Nog and Quark quickly polished their plates, Ahn picked at her food for over an hour. She barely sipped the Plomeek soup and nibbled at the bread out of the little white dish by her bowl. She did not really make any headway at all.

"You're not eating anything," said Quark, eying her as if it were a serious shortcoming. Ahn sighed.

"I can't. I'm in the depths of despair. Can you eat when you are in the depths of despair?"

"You have to eat, no matter what," responded Quark sternly. "Food costs money, and it's a crime to waste both."

"I don't expect you to understand what it's like. Despair is a very uncomfortable feeling indeed. When you try to eat a lump comes right up in your throat and you can't swallow anything, not even if it were the fruit from a jumja tree. I had one three months ago and it was simply delicious. I've often dreamed since then that I about to eat a bushelful, but I always wake up just before I take the first bite. Please don't be offended because I can't eat. Everything is extremely nice, but still I cannot eat."

"I guess she's just tired," said Nog, who hadn't spoken since the meal started. "Maybe you'd better let her go to bed."

"All right," said Quark, sounding rather indifferent. He rose and gestured for Ahn to follow him, which she did spiritlessly. The hall was fearsomely dim, and the little room in which she presently found herself seemed still darker.

"I suppose you have night clothes?" Quark questioned as he turned on the lights.

Ahn nodded. "Yes, I have two. Vedek Tola made them for me. She makes all our clothes. They're a bit skimpy, though. There is never enough to go around in an asylum, so things are always skimpy...at least in a poor asylum like ours. I hate skimpy night-dresses. But one can dream just as well in them as in lovely trailing ones, with bright colored trim around the neck, that's one consolation."

"Well, change and go to bed. I'll come back in a few minutes to see how you are."

When Quark had gone Ahn looked around her wistfully. The walls, which were a plain metallic gray, had been brightened up significantly with posters of the great financial capitals of the universe. Meanwhile, the floor was carpeted in a shade of deep purple. The furniture was an eclectic mix. In one corner was a bed, dressed up with large pillows and a bold Telarian paisley spread. Next to it was a stand housing what appeared to be a set of toy soldiers. Directly across was a large window, shielded by a thin black screen. Finally, against the opposite wall was a tiny cabinet adorned with incense and a statue of Ferenginar's Divine Treasury. The whole apartment was warm and inviting, but clearly intended for someone else. With a sob, Ahn hastily discarded her garments, put on the skimpy nightgown and sprang into bed where she burrowed face downward into the pillow, pulling the covers over her head. When Quark returned, he found a trail of shabby clothes, leading to a lump in the center of the bed.

Quark deliberately picked up Ahn's clothes, placing them in a mound on a chair. Then, he went over to the bed.

"Good night," he said, a little awkwardly, but not unkindly. Ahn's pale gray face and big eyes appeared over the sheets with a startling suddenness.

"How can you call it a GOOD night when you know it must be the very worst night I've ever had?" she said reproachfully.

Then she dived down into invisibility again.

Quark went slowly into the dining room and proceeded to clear the supper dishes. Nog was sitting at the table, drumming his fingers - a sure sign of perturbation of mind.

"Well, this is a fine mess," Quark said, clanking the dishes loudly as he moved. "Vedek Moriel must have misunderstood me somehow. It shouldn't come as a surprise...the man's pushing 130. I guess you'll have to go back to Rivan tomorrow. I can't keep this girl."

"I HAVE TO GO?!" Nog exclaimed.

"Of course, you're the one who got her."

"YOU'RE the one who wanted a child in the first place," Nog replied, sounding more than a little flustered. "Why do I have to handle all your dirty work?"

"I'd handle it myself if I could," Quark insisted. "But you know I can't leave the bar unattended. What else can I do?"

"She's a very nice person, Uncle. Seems kind of cruel to send her back when she's so set on staying here."

"Nog, you're not suggesting I ought to keep her!" Quark's astonishment could not have been greater if Nog had been given command of the station.

"Well, now, no, I suppose not...not exactly," stammered Nog, uncomfortably driven into a corner for his precise meaning. "I suppose that the Vedeks DID make a mistake."

"Did they ever. Besides, what good would she be to me? I can't leave my business to a fe-male."

"Perhaps YOU might be some good to her," said Nog suddenly and unexpectedly.

"Nog, I can't believe you. You've become attached to this child! I can see as plain as day that you want me to keep her."

"Well Uncle, she's a very interesting little girl," persisted Nog. "You should have heard her talk on the runabout."

"Oh, she can talk fast enough. I saw that immediately. It's not in her favor, though. I don't want a Cardassian and if I did she isn't the kind I'd pick out. There's something I don't understand about her. No... she's got to be sent back to Rivan."

"You could get another child, a Bajoran boy," Nog suggested, "and they'd both be company for you."

"I can't afford TWO children" said Quark hotly. "And I'm not going to keep this one."

"Fine then, it's your decision," said Nog rising. "But I won't have anything more to do with it. If you want to take her back, you do it yourself!"

And with that, Nog stormed out of his uncle's quarters, across the Habitat Ring to his own room and bed. And to bed, after he had put the dishes away, went Quark, frowning most resolutely. And in the bedroom across from his, a heartbroken Cardassian girl cried herself to sleep.

- - - - -

EPISODE IV
Morning on the Station

It was morning when Ahn awoke and sat up in bed. Instead of warm sunshine and pale blue sky, she was greeted by darkness. For a moment she could not remember where she was. First came a delightful thrill, as something very pleasant; then the horrible reality. This was Deep Space Nine, and no one wanted her because she was Cardassian!

But it was morning and, yes, the stars were outside. She darted to the window, and after a moment of tinkering, managed to raise the screen. She pressed her nose to the glass, and watched as the wormhole engulfed a small Vulcan freighter. Ahn gasped, her eyes glistening with delight. Oh, wasn't that beautiful? Wasn't this a lovely place? What if she really was going to stay here! She would imagine she was. There was scope for imagination here.

Ahn's beauty-loving eyes lingered on the wormhole, greedily taking in each pulse of light. She had looked on so many unlovely places in her life, poor child; but this was as lovely as anything she had ever dreamed. She stood there, lost to everything but the white-blue loveliness before her, until she was startled by a voice from behind. Quark had come in unheard by the small dreamer.

"It's time you were dressed," he said with a strained expression. Quark really did not know how to talk to the child, and most of his previous experiences with Cardassians made him unsure as to how he should approach. Ahn stood up and drew a long breath.

"Oh, isn't it wonderful?" she said, still gazing as the wormhole closed.

"It's very colorful," said Quark, "but in my opinion, the ride through it doesn't amount to much."

"Oh, I don't mean just the wormhole; of course it's lovely...yes, it's RADIANTLY lovely...it welcomes ships as if it meant it...but everything, the station and the stars and the ships and the whole big dear universe. Don't you feel as if you just loved the universe on a morning like this? Why, when I look outside, I can see the stars smiling. Have you ever noticed the smile on a star? It's the very best thing. I'm so glad I could see it up close. Perhaps you think it doesn't make any difference to me when you're not going to keep me, but it does. I shall always like to remember that there are smiling stars near Deep Space Nine even if I never see it again. If there were no stars or wormhole, I'd be HAUNTED by the uncomfortable feeling that there ought to be. I'm not in the depths of despair this morning. I never can be in the morning. Isn't it a splendid thing that there are mornings? But I feel very regretful. I've just been imagining that it was really me you wanted after all and that I was to stay here for ever and ever. It was a great comfort while it lasted. But the worst of imagining things is that the time comes when you have to stop and that is what hurts the most."

"You'd better get dressed." said Quark as soon as he could get a word in edgewise. "Breakfast is waiting. Wash your face and comb your hair. Leave the screen up and fix the bed. We shouldn't waste any more time."

Ahn was seated in the dining room in ten minutes' time, with her clothes neatly on, her hair brushed and braided, her face washed, and a comfortable consciousness pervading her soul that she had fulfilled all Quark's requirements. As a matter of fact, however, she had forgotten to fix the bed.

"I'm pretty hungry this morning," she announced as she slipped into the chair Quark placed for her. "The universe doesn't seem such a howling wilderness as it did last night. I'm so glad it's a quiet morning. But I like busy mornings as well. All sorts of mornings are interesting, don't you think? You don't know what's going to happen through the day, and there's so much scope for imagination. But I'm glad it's not busy today because it's easier to be cheerful and bear up under affliction on a quiet day. I feel that I have a good deal to bear up under. It's all very well to read about sorrows and imagine yourself living through them heroically, but it's not so nice when you really come to have them, is it?"

"It's a nice, quiet morning," said Quark. "And I would like it to stay that way. Now, eat your food before it gets cold."

Thereupon Ahn held her tongue so obediently and thoroughly that her continued silence made Quark rather nervous, as if in the presence of something unnatural. Consequently, the meal was

a very silent one. As the meal progressed, Ahn became more and more abstracted, eating mechanically, with her big eyes fixed unswervingly and unseeingly on nothing. This made Quark more nervous than ever; he had an uncomfortable feeling that while this odd child's body might be there at the table her spirit was far away in another dimension, borne aloft on the wings of imagination. Who would want such a child about the place?

Yet Nog wished for her to stay, of all unaccountable things! Quark assumed that since his nephew hadn't called, he was of the same mind this morning as he had been the night before, and that he would go on wanting it. That was Nog's way; take a whim into his head and cling to it with the most amazing silent persistency, a persistency ten times more potent and effectual in its very silence than if he had talked it out.

When the meal was ended Ahn came out of her reverie and offered to clear the table.

"Do you know how to use a replicator?" asked Quark doubtfully.

"Yes. I'm better at looking after children, though. I've had so much experience at that. It's such a pity you haven't any here for me to look after."

"I don't feel as if I wanted any more children to look after than I've got right now. YOU'RE handful enough. What was going through my nephew's mind when he brought you here I'll never know."

"I think he's lovely," said Ahn reproachfully. "Cousin Nog is so very sympathetic. He didn't mind how much I talked. In fact, he seemed to like it. I felt that he was a kindred spirit as soon as ever I saw him."

Quark flinched. "You're both strange enough, if that's what you mean by kindred spirits... now go on and clear the table. Don't try to carry all the dishes at once, and be sure you wipe the table clean. There's a lot to be done today. I have to contact Vedek Moriel so we can figure out what's to be done with you. But first, finish the table and then go and make your bed."

Ahn cleared the table deftly enough, as Quark who kept a sharp eye on the process, discerned. Later on she made her bed less successfully, for she had never learned the art of wrestling with a quilted bedspread. But is was done somehow and smoothed down; and then Quark, to get rid of her, told her she might go out and have a look at the station until lunch time. Ahn flew to the door, face alight, eyes glowing. On the very threshold she stopped short, wheeled about, came back and sat down on the bed, light and glow as effectually blotted out as if some one had clapped an extinguisher on her.

"What's the matter now?" demanded Quark.

"I don't dare go out," said Ahn, in the tone of a martyr relinquishing all worldly joys. "If I can't stay here there is no use in looking. If I go out there and get acquainted with all the people and places I'll not be able to help but get attached. It's hard enough now, so I won't make it any harder. I want to go out so much...everything seems to be calling to me, but it's best that I don't. There is no use in loving things if you have to be torn from them, is there? And it's so hard to keep from loving things once you've seen them, isn't it? That was why I was so glad when I thought I was going to live here. I thought I'd have so many things to love and nothing to hinder me. But that brief dream is over. I am resigned to my fate now, so I don't think I'll go out for fear I'll get unresigned again. Oh! What is the name of that?"

Ahn motioned for Quark to look out the window. Ahn had singled out one little rock, which to Quark's eyes looked irrelevant.

"I don't know...they're all just space rocks."

"You didn't give it a name? May I give it one then? May I call it...let me see...Oni would do. May I call it Oni while I'm here? Oh, do let me!"

"If that's what you want. But what is the sense of naming it?"

"What's the sense in naming stars, or planets, or starships? It makes them seem more real...like people. How do you know if it hurts a tiny rock's feelings just to be called a rock and nothing else? You wouldn't like to be called nothing but a man all the time. Yes, I shall call it Oni. I even named the wormhole this morning. I call it the Portal of Light. I would call it the Prophet's Portal but no one really knows if there's really anyone in there."

"I never in all my life heard anything equal to her," thought Quark, sitting on the bed opposite Ahn. "She is kind of interesting. I wonder what in the universe she'll say next. She'll be casting a spell over me, too. She's cast it over Nog. But what good is she to me? I can't leave my business to a fe-male !

Ahn fell back on the bed, sighing softly. And here Quark left her until lunch was on the table. Quark got permission to use the runabout Nile again and after lunch, the two of them set off. Quark occupied the helm, while Ahn silently seated herself in the rear. She now was dressed in a bright green dress, and her old straw bag had been replaced with new Starfleet issue. As he piloted the vessel away from the station, Quark said, to nobody in particular it seemed:

"I hope you like the clothes and the bag. No sense in leaving with nothing, is there?"

Ahn made no reply. And in piercing silence, Quark entered course for Bajor.

- - - - -

EPISODE V
Ahn's History

"Do you know," said Ahn, making her way up to the helm, "I've made up my mind to enjoy this journey. It's been my experience that you can nearly always enjoy things if you make up your mind firmly that you will. Of course, you must make it up FIRMLY. I am not going to think about going back to Rivan while we're traveling. I'm just going to think about the journey. Oh, look, there's a bright comet in the distance! Isn't it lovely? Do you wonder what it's like to be a comet? Wouldn't it be something if people could ride comets? It would be quite a ride. And isn't blue the most enchanting color in the world? I love it, but it doesn't look good on me. Cardassians shouldn't wear blue, not even in imagination. Did you ever know of anybody whose hair was red when she was young, but got to be another color when she grew up?"

"No, I don't know as I ever did," said Quark bluntly, "and I don't think it's going to happen in your case either."

Ahn sighed. "Well, that is another hope gone. 'My life is a perfect wasteland of buried hopes." That's a sentence I read in a book once, and I say it over to comfort myself whenever I'm disappointed in anything."

"I don't see how those words can be comforting," said Quark.

"Why, because it sounds so nice and romantic, just as if I were a heroine in a book, you know. I am so fond of romantic things, and a wasteland full of buried hopes is about as romantic a thing as one can imagine isn't it? I'm rather glad I have one. Will we get a chance to see any stars up close?"

"We're not going near any stars. It's down to Bajor and straight west to Rivan Province"

"That sounds like a good way to go," said Ahn dreamily. "Is that the scenic route? I can imagine clouds and oceans and land in my mind, just like that! How far is it to Bajor now?"

"It's two-and-a-half hours; and since you're so intent on talking you might as well tell me what you know about yourself."

"Oh, what I KNOW about myself isn't really worth telling," said Ahn eagerly. "If you'll only let me tell you what I IMAGINE about myself you'll think it ever so much more interesting."

"No, I don't want any of your imaginings. Just stick to the facts. Begin at the beginning. Where were you born and how old are you?"

"I was ten this spring," said Ahn, resigning herself to the facts with a little sigh. "I don't know if that's my real birthdate, though. I don't know exactly where I was born, either. You see, I was found in the wreckage of a shuttle. It crashed right in the middle of a poor Bajoran's farm. Ten people were on board, but I was the only one who survived. The shuttle's computers burned, and they never found out who I was, or who my parents were. I often wonder about them, though. I hope they were good people, and I do hope they had a nice-sounding name. It would be a disgrace to have parents with a name like, say, Goran."

"It doesn't matter what a person's name is as long as they have lived a profitable life," said Quark, feeling himself called upon to quote from the Sacred Texts.

"Well, I don't know." Ahn looked thoughtful. "I read in a book once that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but I've never been able to believe it. I don't think a rose WOULD be as nice if it was called a swamp weed or a vole. I suppose my parents could have been good people even if their name was Goran; but I'm sure it would have been a cross. My first home was with the Bajoran farmer. His name was Kor Hedron, and he named me Kor Morel. I don't remember much about him, except that he had this lovely dark curly hair, and he coughed all the time. His house had yellow net curtains on the windows, and they made the prettiest shadows against the floor as the sun rose. I lived there until I was five, when he died in his sleep. It's a shame...I do wish he had lived long enough for me to be of use to him. I think it would've been such an honor to help him weed the crops, or to cook him a nice supper every evening."

"After Mr. Kor died, no one knew what to do with me. He had no family, and none of his friends wanted me. They could barely feed themselves, and they had no use for Cardassians. You see, nobody wanted me even then. It seems to be my fate. Finally, a neighbor named Mr. Veraj said he'd take me, though he had an old grandfather to care for already. He brought me up by hand. Do you know if there is anything in being brought up by hand that ought to make people who are brought up that way better than other people? Because whenever I was naughty Mr. Veraj would ask me how I could be such a bad girl when he had brought me up by hand himself."

"I lived with Mr. Veraj until I was eight years old. I did all the cooking and the cleaning - and I can tell you there was A LOT of both. Then, Mr. Veraj died...he slipped and fell into the river near our home. Drowned straight away. His brother offered to take the grandfather, but he didn't want me. He was at HIS wits' end, so he said, what to do with me. Then Mrs. Aliv, one of his friends from down the river, offered to take me on the condition that I help watch her children. I went down the river to live with her in a little clearing amongst the stumps. It was a very lonesome place. I'm sure I could never have lived there if I hadn't had an imagination. I worked on a farm there, and they had eight children. I like babies in moderation, but eight is just TOO MUCH. I told Mrs. Aliv so firmly, when the last one came. I used to get so dreadfully tired running around after them." "I lived up river with Mrs. Aliv about a year, and then she divorced Mr. Aliv. Mrs. Aliv took the children and went back to her relatives. Mr. Aliv joined the Bajoran Militia. I had to go to the asylum at Rivan, because nobody would take me. They didn't want me at the asylum, either; they said they were overcrowded as it was. But they had to take me and I was there a year until I was chosen to go to Deep Space Nine."

Ahn finished up with another sigh, of relief this time. Evidently she did not like talking about her experiences in a universe that did not want her.

"Did you ever go to school?" asked Quark, for the first time swinging his chair around to face her.

"I went a little after the Occupation ended. But I was always so far from a school that I couldn't walk it in winter, and since there was vacation in the summer, I could only go in the spring and the fall. Of course, I went while I was at the asylum. I can read pretty well and I know so many pieces of poetry by heart. My personal favorite is Vedek Tiran. She wrote this one line: 'for every night there is a dawn' that sends crinkles up and down my spine. Of course, I'm not much good at anything else. In fact, the teachers said it'd be a miracle if I ever learned anything at all."

"Were all the people you've lived with good to you?" asked Quark, looking at Ahn out of the corner of his eye.

"O-o-o-h," faltered Ahn. Her sensitive little face suddenly flushed scarlet and embarrassment sat on her brow. "Oh, they MEANT to be...I know they meant to be just as good and kind as possible. And when people mean to be good to you, you don't mind very much when they're not quite... always. They all had a good deal to worry them, you know. It's very trying to be poor and sick, and to have an old grandfather, and to have eight little children. And I KNOW it's trying to take care of a Cardassian when all you've known them to do is cause you suffering, don't you think? But I feel sure they all MEANT to be good to me."

Quark asked no more questions. Ahn gave herself up to a silent rapture as the shuttle effortlessly penetrated Bajor's atmosphere. Pity was suddenly stirring in his heart for the child. What an unprofitable, unloved life she had had. A life of drudgery and neglect, for Quark was sharp enough to read between the lines of Ahn's history and distill the truth. No wonder she had been so delighted at the prospect of life on Deep Space Nine. It was a pity she had to be sent back. But what if he could entertain Nog's unaccountable suggestion and let her stay? He was so set on it; and the child seemed a nice, teachable little thing.

"She talks a mile a minute," thought Quark, "but she could be taught to control herself."

As the runabout approached the clearing, Ahn was visibly tense. "I'm afraid I've gone in a circle," she said mournfully. "And I've just about reached the end. When I step out of this shuttle, it will all be finished."