Week four

[letsplayamod]

Two more of your fellow gods, your companions, your friends, have met their end together. As you turn in for the night, and a new week dawns upon you, it's starting to be a bitter experience. Just how much of this will you be forced to take?

But all isn't just despair. The morning is brighter than the last. The storm clouds that previously plagued almost every day have dissipated, and this week brings plenty of sun and a friendlier breeze. Not to mention, another floor of this strange temple has revealed itself. Whatever lies within is your domain, not Typhon's. Keep it tight in your grasp, because you never know when you'll lose it.

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Quark's Bar

Comments

[latinumsbetter]

Normally, Starfleet is about exploration. Exploring brave new worlds, or some kind of canned slogan that pulls in young people like a Cardassian vole to fresh Bajoran cheese. But if there's something that they object to, they'll hop right into war if it suits their purposes.

[markofnobility]

[ he looks skyward, through the open ceiling of the pavilion. There are no stars in sight. But he knows they are there, behind the sunlight.]

... it's sad. Knowing there's war even amoung the Goddess' Sea.

[latinumsbetter]

There's always war somewhere, whether that's planet-side or in the galaxy. Right now, it's between the Alpha and Gamma Quadrants. The station is in the Alpha Quadrant and both sides want the Wormhole nearby for themselves.

[markofnobility]

Right near where you are. You fear he will be caught in the battles.

[ a seemingly peaceful goal caught in the brutality of reality. It's not hard to make the correlations between it and here, even for Ferdinand. Why Quark was so furious with Athena after Typhon appeared. Why Alex's death cut so deep even beyond all of their affection for him.

He feels suddenly hyper-aware of himself and hates it]

[latinumsbetter]

He already has been. More than once. Almost died. I thought he'd give it up and back out after the first time, but that stubbornness of his--[Quark shakes his head] Of all the things he had to get from me.

[markofnobility]

Stubborness can be a virtue in the right hands.

Even so... is that why you took Athena's offer?

[ there are things a god can do that a barkeep can not]

[latinumsbetter]

...yeah.

[But...that's not important right now. And really, what more is there to say? Quark's lips purse a bit, fingers drumming on his arm.]

Y'know, I keep thinking about the first time, lately.

[markofnobility]

The first time?

[latinumsbetter]

The first time he almost died.

[markofnobility]

Was... was it... was he hurt?

[ that self aware feeling grows. He wonders if his father ever felt this kind of dread Quark is implying, hearing about the exploits of General von Aegir from the guards in his cell. Or was he too worried about his own traitorous neck at that point? He can't settle on if the idea of his father worrying about him makes him happy or want to tear his own skin off.

He starts shifting from foot to foot anxiously]

[latinumsbetter]

He only got out of it with a few scrapes and bruises. Nothing that a quick trip to sickbay wouldn't fix. But he was lucky. Aside from him, only two other kids survived.

[markofnobility]

Only two...

[ he thinks on the Battle of Gareg Mach. His fellow students running screaming dying for a war they had no right to be involved in. Kids. Like he was. He starts fiddling with his riding jacket cuffs almost franticly]

[latinumsbetter]

Yeah. [Quark is definitely noting the fiddling, eyes flicking towards his hands, and then up for Ferdinand's face, though his body and face stay turned towards the statues ]

See, originally it was him and his best friend Jake. They were in a runabout--that's a ship built for a small amount of people for smaller missions--on a diplomatic mission to Ferenginar. Wasn't even supposed to be anything dangerous, but their ship got attacked by an enemy ship.

[...he huffs, turning to step in front of Ferdinand and reach for his cuffs himself, taking his left hand and starting to turn the cuff down, adjusting the measure of it and smoothing it, hands moving in a way that might be considered fussing if it wasn't so business-like.]

They weren't able to outrun it, but they were rescued on the way. It was the strangest thing, though, who they got rescued by.

[markofnobility]

[ the fussing is shockingly familiar, bringing to mind a life time of nannies and matrons and tutors with it's mix of fondness and business crispness. It's enough to bring his mind back from it's wandering, some of the doe-eyed blankness fading from his face and replaced with it's original curiosity.

He allows the cuff straightening to continue with a warm passivity]

Who was it?

[latinumsbetter]

There was this ship named the Valiant. It was originally manned by seven officers and thirty-five cadets on a three-month training mission, which is pretty standard, except that the cadets were members of a group called the Red Squad--exceptional among their peers and all that. They were given a real nice ship and everything. But during that mission, the war broke out, and the Valiant was considered lost in the initial Dominion attack.

And wouldn't you know it? That was the ship that rescued them. [he glances up at Ferdinand, tilting his head a bit as if to emphasize the incredulity of it as he finishes fixing the cuff of his left sleeve and moves on to the right]

[markofnobility]

[ his eyes widen at that]

Saints, what are the odds? Saved by others assumed dead. If I was still properly devout I would probably call it providence.

[latinumsbetter]

Providence. That's a word for it.

[he rolls down that cuff, gently, before folding it again shifting it slightly]

Turns out the ship had been attacked and all the officers killed. The captain had made one of the cadets the commanding officer before he died, and that cadet had promoted the other cadets. But instead of returning home, they had remained behind enemy lines for the eight months they had been presumed missing, fighting the Dominion.

Nog was an engineering ensign by then, so of course they were happy to have him. Promoted him to Chief Engineer on the spot.

[markofnobility]

Brave... but cadets should not have been doing such things alone! Nog... how old was he at the time?

[latinumsbetter]

Nog...I'd say he was about a year or two older than Alex, or the equivalent of that. Most of the cadets on that ship were between his age and yours, I'd say.

[he tilts his head towards Alex to indicate who he means by "his."]

But they were the elite from the academy. They were treated as such; Nog wanted to be a part of them so badly when he was there. And their commanding officer...that kid was very charismatic. In several more years, with more training and experience, he might've made a good captain.

[Quark huffs, shaking his head]

Long story short, the ship intercepted an enemy transmission. Instead of taking it to base, the commanding officer decided to attempt to act on it. He attacked an enemy ship that they had no chance of defeating.

[he's finishing up with those cuffs]

All the commanding officers died during the attack until Nog was the highest ranking officer. He called for an evacuation. His was the only escape pod that made it.

[markofnobility]

He made the only sensible call.

[But he can see why he joined. A yearning to be Part of Something. Something bigger and more important than you alone could ever be. Purpose.]

But it was too late... A foolish waste.

[latinumsbetter]

Yeah. [Quark looks up from Ferdinand's sleeve, fixing him with the entirety of his focus, still holding onto his cuff for a moment]

It was a waste. You can see how it happened, and understand it, but it was still a tragic waste.

[markofnobility]

...

[he looks away under the weight of Quark's focus. Even he can not deny where this is going. The story is too detailed and too earnest to not be true. But that doesn't mean Quark didn't tell it to him, specifically, for a reason.

But he can't make himself try to refute it either, even if he knows he should]

[latinumsbetter]

[Quark's fingers close around Ferdinand's wrist, now]

Ferdinand.

[It's not...exactly gentle. It's firm, as he usually is. But it is, perhaps, a smidge softer than he'd normally be.]

[markofnobility]

[ just looking away is not enough under that grip. Instead he squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head violently.

He could pull his hand away easily, but he does not]

[latinumsbetter]

Ferdinand. [Now his voice does go softer, edging gentle, but still firm.] Look at me.