Opportunity

By Laura Schiller

Based on Star Trek: Deep Space Nine

Copyright: Paramount

It was a well-documented fact, thought Nog, that females were inferior to males. They were physically smaller and weaker, less intelligent, evolved for no other purpose than caring for their children and their mates. It was the males who were clever and cunning, who went out into the harsh world of business while their wives kept the house warm. There was even a Rule of Acquisition: She can touch your lobes, but not your latinum.

He found it all the more embarrassing, therefore, to be shut inside a small office and locked in a staring contest with a very displeased Mrs. O'Brien. Blessed Exchequer – even sitting, she was taller than he was!

"Nog," she said quietly, "What am I going to do with you?"

From the flinty look in her slanted black eyes and the tightness of her lips, he had been expecting a shout. This quiet, tightly controlled disappointment was somehow worse.

"Let me guess," he said, trying to muster up his usual bravado. "You'll make me write lines by hand. 'I shall not bribe Jake to write my essays for me. I shall not chew bubble gum in class. I shall not leave blank pages on a silly, pointless Human literature test.' Yadda, yadda, yadda." He made his squeaky teenage boy's voice even squeakier, mocking hers, with exaggerated air quotes. Two angry red spots appeared on Mrs. O'Brien's cheeks, but she did not look away.

"If I thought it would do any good," she said dryly, "I might. But it seems I'll have to try something different."

She took a deep breath, obviously forcing herself to calm down, clasped her hands, and leaned forward. Now she would begin appealing to his better nature, he suspected – completely forgetting that Human and Ferengi standards on what constituted good nature were drastically different. He knew perfectly well that cheating on those two essays was wrong from a Human standpoint – Jake's pained expression handing them over was proof of that – but his father and uncle had only roared with laughter and clapped him on the back when they'd found out. How was a man to figure out right and wrong when no one around him seemed to agree?

"Listen, Nog," said Mrs. O'Brien, in that soft, level tone one uses to coax animals. "You're a bright, intelligent young man. I know you can keep up perfectly with my lesson plan if you really try. Do you want your peers to think you're lazy and stupid? Is that it?"

That stung. He couldn't help but think of that time his father had pulled him out of school at the order of the visiting Grand Nagus, and Jake's disdainful eyes. You think I'm stupid? You're the one who's not going to school!

"I know I'm not stupid," he retorted, in what was meant to be a strong, assertive tone of voice but came out as a sulky grunt. "I don't care what they think."

"Even your best friend?" asked Mrs. O'Brien, raising an arched eyebrow.

She really was an uncanny creature. Was she as Human as she looked, or was there a telepath somewhere up her family tree?

"It's a small classroom, my dear," she said, answering a question he hadn't asked. "I notice more about all of you than I let on. I noticed, for instance, what you used to bribe Jake."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Oh, yeah." She was actually smirking!

"I had a few words with Jake," turning sober again. "He's feeling very guilty about all this, you know. It's one thing to belong to a culture with a different ethical system, Nog, but you shouldn't try to impose it on others."

If he knew what his ethical system was, he thought ruefully, life would be a lot easier. He hadn't meant to upset Jake – his friend and partner in crime, who was always up for any crazy scheme. The best person to people-watch and play cards with. The only one in a schoolroom full of aliens to accept a Ferengi as a friend.

"We had a deal, Mrs. O'Brien," he protested. "He agreed."

"Because he didn't want to lose you."

Nog felt all of his swagger and panache shriveling up like dried tube grubs. It was unfair that a pretty, soft-spoken Human female should have this effect on him.

"Priya juice," said Mrs. O'Brien, shaking her head in reluctant admiration. "Full of vitamins for a growing teenager. Very tasty, very rare, and conveniently located in your uncle's private stock. Do you know how much he charges for one bottle?"

He knew, and did not appreciate the reminder. Quark would have his nephew's lobes boiled in oil if he found out that half of those bottles on the bottom shelf contained nothing but replicated Terran lemonade!

"Did Jake tell you that?" he blustered. "That's a lie! I'd never steal any of Uncle Quark's merchandise, I swear."

"Does that mean if we went there now, we'd find all his bottles still in one placed, filled with the original contents?"

"No, no, don't – " Nog cut himself off with a mental curse. Now he'd given himself away.

"You appreciate a good bargain, don't you, Nog?" sid Mrs. O'Brien, still in that same gentle voice. "Suppose I offered you one? I won't tell your uncle about the juice – but in return, I expect you to pass your exams this year with a grade of at least seventy percent."

His first instinct was to slump into his chair with relief. That wasn't so bad; he could put up with the tediousness of Picasso, Jane Austen and Surak if it meant Mrs. O'Brien would keep quiet. But then it hit him –

"Mrs. O'Brien!" he yelped. "Are you blackmailing me?"

"Call it an opportunity to improve." She smiled.

Nog's mind raced as he considered ways to wriggle out of this dilemna. He could report her – but who on this Starfleet-run station would believe the word of a Ferengi, a member of a species known for their loose interpretation of the truth, over that of a well-liked and respected Human schoolteacher?

She was ruthless. She was devious. In a word … awesome.

"You should've been a Ferengi," he blurted out, shaking his head in awed admiration. "I'll have to watch my back."

"Why, thank you, Nog" she said, her smile blooming out into a full-blown grin of triumph. "So – do we have a deal?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She held out her slim white hand across the desk. He shook it solemnly.

Jake was right. Ferengi females might be another matter entirely, but the Human ones were awfully clever after all.