by Mel Gilden
“I’m Darm, third mate of the Ulysses. We just came through the wormhole from the Gamma Quadrant. That creature is my property.” Darm took a step forward, and the creature quickly sought protection behind Jake and Nog.
“He doesn’t appear to like you very much,” Odo remarked.
“So what? I know my rights. It belongs to me. I do with it as I please.”
Jake and Nog appealed to Odo in unison. “You can’t let him take him. He’ll hurt him.”
Odo considered the quandary. “If Darm does own the creature, then I can’t stop him from claiming his property.”
Jake shuddered at the thought of this gentle creature in the rough hands of the spacer. Darm smiled with satisfaction and began to step forward, but Odo stopped him.
“On the other hand, I will need to see a legal bill of sale.”
“Bill of sale? What’re you talkin’ about? I picked this thing up wandering around some space rock masquerading as a planet in Gamma Quadrant. I don’t have no bill of sale. I don’t need no bill of sale. I don’t gotta show you no garking bill of sale.”
“You say you’re off the Ulysses?” Odo asked calmly, ignoring the spacer’s outburst.
Darm nodded. “Ship’s laid up in docking bay eight. Waiting for repairs. Three days I’ve been stuck on this dump you call a space station.”
“Chief O’Brien’s a bit overworked at the moment, with all the extra traffic caused by the wormhole celebration. But I’m sure he’s doing the best he can.” Odo changed the subject. “The Ulysses, as I understand it, has been surveying the Gamma Quadrant under a Federation contract.”
“So?”
Jake began to smile. Being the son of a Starfleet commander, he understood more about space law than most boys his age. He smiled, sensing what Odo was about to say.
“Under the law, anything brought on board your ship during its mission becomes ship’s property.” Odo looked over at the creature. “That entity belongs to the Ulysses. I’m afraid your captain will have to rule on who owns it.”
“You can’t do that,” Darm protested.
“I can, and I have,” Odo said with finality. “Come to Commander Sisko’s office with your captain tomorrow morning and we’ll settle this.”
“But what happens to this little guy until then?” Jake wanted to know as he continued to stroke the golden-haired creature.
Odo scratched his chin and thought. “I don’t have an empty holding cell at the moment.” Then he smiled to the extent his almost-human features would allow and looked at Jake. “Suppose you two take responsibility for him until then.”
Jake and Nog spent the rest of the afternoon with their new friend in their current “secret place,” a deserted construction crew module in one of the upper docking pylons.
Deep Space Nine, which was the Starfleet designation for the space station orbiting the planet Bajor, was originally constructed by the Cardassians as a mining operations center. After looting and plundering from the Bajorans until it was no longer profitable to remain, the Cardassians had abandoned the station. But when a permanent wormhole was discovered in the system’s Denorios Belt, the station was reactivated by Starfleet as a trading outpost and stopover point for merchants, explorers, scientists, and diplomats going to or coming from the Gamma Quadrant.
Jake’s father, Benjamin Sisko, was posted here as commander, and the station was put under Starfleet protection—in case the Cardassians ever decided that it was worth their while to return.
Coming to Deep Space Nine was not really Jake’s first choice. He had his heart set on returning to Earth. On the other hand, he wanted to be with his father. And if this is where Starfleet decided they needed Benjamin Sisko, then this was the place Jake would try to call home.
There were not a lot of kids on Deep Space Nine when Jake and his father arrived. There were hardly any people at all. Most everyone who could had already left the space station, either to settle on Bajor or to find a more profitable place to set up shop. Commander Sisko convinced several of the shopkeepers to remain. The most difficult to persuade was Quark, Nog’s uncle, who saw no profit in hanging around a decaying planet. But somehow his father had made the Ferengi an offer he couldn’t refuse, though he never told Jake what it was.
Whatever it was, Quark reluctantly agreed to stay, and Deep Space Nine reopened for business—though in those first days business was pretty bad.
But then the Bajoran wormhole was discovered, and the shortcut to the Gamma Quadrant opened a whole new universe of opportunity. Gradually more ships passed through the wormhole, and the station population grew. As commerce increased, more families settled on Deep Space Nine until there were enough children to persuade Chief O’Brien’s wife, Keiko, to start a school.
Jake, much as he liked to complain, really did enjoy school. His mother had instilled in him her own deep desire to learn. But with his friend Nog it was a different story. That Nog showed up in school at all was a major victory on Keiko’s part, with much behind-the-scenes effort by the commander. The Ferengi felt about formal schooling the way Lyorax mud eaters felt about washing—they considered it unnatural.
Nog may have been Ferengi by birth, but he seemed closer to human in attitude. After a couple of false starts, he found that he really liked learning about new things. Their mutual curiosity was the first thing Jake and Nog discovered they had in common.
Desperation originally threw them together, because there was no one else on the station even close to their age. But forming a real bond did not take long. Nog soon became Jake’s best friend, and he probably would have been even if they had both been back on Earth.
Now, together with their new alien companion, they climbed the forgotten stairs leading to a small room that was halfway up the inside of the third docking pylon. The room had been stripped of the repair facilities that had once occupied it. A recessed wall table and some storage shelves were the only remaining pieces of furniture.
Jake had discovered this place during one of their “hide-and-seek” games. They immediately adopted it as their clubhouse, though Jake had to explain to Nog what that meant. Ferengi children usually spent their time in more practical pursuits rather than playing out their fantasies in what their parents considered childish, human games.
Jake had rigged up some lights and brought in his old hologame projector, while Nog managed to borrow an old replicator from storage. Soon it became their special place, with no one else admitted—until now.
As they stepped inside, Jake had a sudden thought. He looked over at the creature. “We can’t keep calling you it—or he. You have to have a name.”
“A good Ferengi name,” Nog asserted.
“No.” Jake looked at the little rhinolike creature, then back at Nog. “No offense, Nog. But it has to be a name that suits him. Names are very important. They tell you a lot about someone.”
“So what’s his name?”
Jake thought hard for a moment. The name had to be something special. Something appropriate. Suddenly he had it. The perfect name. “Babe.”
“Babe?”
Jake nodded. “Babe Ruth was one of baseball’s greatest heroes. And, like our friend, a little bit overweight. It suits him. It really does.”
Nog wasn’t so sure, but having no better idea, he agreed to the name.
“Babe,” Jake proclaimed to the alien creature. “You are the first outsider to be invited here.”
“Indeed,” Nog emphasized, “it is a special privilege. An honor.”
Babe wrinkled his fur-covered horn as he surveyed the room. It seemed to Jake that this creature understood what they were saying, although it may have been that he was just naturally curious. They had decided that he was a “he” mainly because otherwise they would have had to break their “no girls allowed” rule.
Soon Babe found a suitable corner on the highest shelf and curled up to take a nap. Jake theorized that Babe may have come from a mountainous world where safety was found in the higher regi
ons. The creature was certainly adept at climbing. Nog suggested that maybe there were a lot of trees on Babe’s planet.
Jake and Nog observed the sleeping Babe with growing affection. No matter what they had to do, they agreed that they would not let this gentle creature fall into the hands of someone like Darm. What that might require of them, they had no way of knowing, but Jake and Nog formally sealed their commitment with a sacred oath that they remembered from a hologame, Pirates of the Pleiades.
The rest of the afternoon was occupied by more pleasant pursuits as they played Maze Masters with the hologame projector. Nog, who considered himself a maze master of the first rank, was surprised at how fast Babe figured out the possibilities and emerged from the maze first seven times out of twelve.
Jake, who silently hated coming in second in the maze whenever he played Nog, was beaming at the second-place showing of his Ferengi friend.
Then, Babe apparently noticed the obvious discomfort that Nog was suffering, and Jake thought he saw the creature deliberately lose his way, enabling Nog to win the last three contests. Jake accepted it as a further sign that Babe was more intelligent than the average pet, but Nog insisted that it was simply his superior Ferengi talent rising to the challenge.
When they all tired of the game, they left their clubhouse and visited the observation deck above the Promenade. This was one of Jake’s favorite places. The large windows looked out on the Bajoran solar system and the cosmos beyond. If one made a complete circuit of the upper tier, the overwhelming impression was that Deep Space Nine was indeed an island floating in a vast sea of space. It was a good place not only to see the stars outside, but to watch the throngs of people that crowded the Promenade below.
The wormhole anniversary celebration had attracted as many different groups of humans and aliens as Jake had ever seen assembled in one place. Many of them strolled with their own pets, which ranged from a whistling tyra-bird perched on the shoulder of a portly Sardakan merchant, to a spider-wasp that fluttered around its owner’s head, to a pair of six-limbed rim runners that constantly tangled their leashes around the legs of their Bajoran mistress. But none of those other pets, Jake and Nog agreed, could hold a Tjrak candle to Babe.
Since the room that Quark provided for Nog to share with his father, Rom, was, even by Ferengi standards, small, Jake and Nog decided that Babe should stay overnight in the Sisko quarters.
Later that evening, over dinner, Jake mentioned Babe’s quick learning abilities to his father.
“I’m not sure that means Babe is intelligent in the sense you mean it,” Benjamin Sisko responded. “Morovian rats can learn to navigate a complex maze faster than their owners, but they aren’t intelligent in human terms.”
“Babe is smarter than any rat,” Jake contended.
“I’m sure he is, Jake. In his own way. All of us have our own special talents. Like the skills of a great athlete.”
“But didn’t you tell me that in baseball the best pitcher is not the one with the fastest ball, but the one with the smartest ball?”
Benjamin Sisko smiled. “Yes. I did.”
The commander glanced over at Babe, who was curled up in his favorite chair. “I have to admit that your friend Babe is certainly smart enough to pick out the best seat in the house.”
“Dad, why do you think that spacer Darm wanted Babe?” Jake asked, changing the subject. “He doesn’t seem like someone who appreciates pets.”
“Babe is a rare creature from the Gamma Quadrant. I suspect that Darm planned to sell him.”
“Sell him?” Jake was horrified by the thought of Babe being bought and sold like so many self-sealing stenbolts. Jake excused himself and went over to sit next to Babe. He liked that his father called Babe a “friend” rather than a “creature,” or even worse—as Darm had said on the Promenade, a “thing.” It just wouldn’t be right for Babe to belong to someone like that.
Jake watched as his father cleared the table and carried the used dishes to the convertor for recycling. He was certain that the commander of Deep Space Nine would be able to claim Starfleet jurisdiction and keep Darm from getting Babe.
Jake petted the soft golden fur of the alien creature, who responded with a low hum that was not unlike the purr of an Earth cat. Jake became more determined than ever to keep Babe.
CHAPTER 3
Ready?” Nog asked.
“Whenever you are,” Jake replied.
Nog nodded, then pitched the small white sphere of the baseball. It left the pitcher’s mound and arced through the azure blue Iowa sky toward home plate.
Crack!
Jake swung and the bat made hard contact with the ball. The ball spun out over the grassy meadow toward the distant cornfields.
“Another long one!” Jake smiled as he watched the ball he had just hit whiz past Nog’s oversize ears. By the time the Ferengi reacted and made a halfhearted attempt to snare the ball, it was well beyond the reach of his glove. It was a home run for sure. Or would have been.
Suddenly a furry comet leaped high off the ground and snatched the runaway ball out of the air. Babe had done it again.
“I think he likes this game,” Nog said as the little rhino-nosed creature proudly deposited his catch at the Ferengi’s feet.
Jake smiled at this furry little being who was rapidly becoming an important part of their lives. Babe was certainly an appropriate name. He wondered whether they played baseball on the planet he came from. Jake knew that the meeting in the commander’s office was going to turn out well. But just in case it didn’t, both he and Nog had wanted to share whatever was left of this special time with Babe.
On the mound Nog was winding up for another pitch. Jake approached the plate, then hesitated. The sun was directly overhead, which meant it was time to end this game.
“Computer, terminate program,” Jake said.
The Iowa countryside vanished. Jake and Nog left the holosuite, followed by Babe.
They bypassed the Promenade, which Jake noted was already crowded with the passengers and crews of the small armada of starships arriving to celebrate the anniversary of the wormhole, not to mention a continuing shuttle of Bajorans who took the opportunity of a planet-wide holiday to visit the station.
For most it was their first visit here, but Jake noticed that more than a few were former slaves of the Cardassian masters who once ran Deep Space Nine. Now they came to walk the steel corridors as free men and women.
Nog proudly pointed out that his uncle, Quark, had set up a souvenir stand near the main exit from the docking bays peddling genuine Cardassian artifacts and treasures from the Gamma Quadrant. “Ferengi Rule of Acquisition Number Nine: ‘Instinct plus opportunity equals profit.’”
But Jake was reminded of another Ferengi rule: “A bargain usually isn’t.” The authentic Cardassian artifacts were replicated, and the Gamma Quadrant treasures came from a Kajorak space trader who had drunk too much at Quark’s and bet too heavily at the dabo wheel.
In spite of the fact that Jake had calculated the time it would take to get from the holosuites to Operations, the meeting had already begun by the time they arrived.
Odo was waiting impatiently for them outside the door to Commander Sisko’s office. As he ushered Jake, Nog, and Babe into the office, he quickly explained that the commander and Captain Pavlov of the Ulysses had been fully apprised of the situation.
Commander Sisko did not appear to notice their late arrival as he was occupied in conversation with a huge man with a red beard. The spacer, Darm, did notice them and glared silently from across the room. Jake, Nog, and Babe slid quietly into a corner and waited to be called upon.
When there was a lull in the conversation, Benjamin Sisko turned to his son. “Glad you could make it,” he said with a soft reprimand.
“Sorry, Dad,” Jake started to explain, “but the Promenade was really crowded.”
Sisko was about to reply, when Captain Pavlov interrupted. “Forgive their tardiness, Commander. They are sti
ll boys and enjoy the luxury of their youth.” He turned to Jake and Nog and introduced himself, “I am Alexander Pavlov, Captain of the Ulysses.”
For the first time Jake took a good look at Alexander Pavlov. He was a great Russian bear of a man who reminded Jake of a picture of a Cossack chieftain from an old history book. He not only occupied the commander’s office on the Deep Space Nine Operations bridge, but he dominated it. His long curls and shaggy beard were as flaming red as his temper, which now flared as he returned to the reason he had been called here.
Fortunately his anger was not directed at Jake or Nog, or even at Babe, who lay curled up between them. Nor was he upset that Commander Sisko had summoned him here. No, his anger was clearly aimed at his third officer.
Unlike the day before, Jake noticed that Darm stood silently and accepted his captain’s verbal onslaught. It was not a pleasant sight for anyone involved, and Jake almost felt a twinge of compassion for the spacer.
When he had finished reprimanding Darm, which was meant to demonstrate his regret over the matter, Pavlov turned his attention to the commander. “I apologize for the actions of my officer. Darm brought the creature aboard the Ulysses without my permission or knowledge.”
“I didn’t think it was important—” Darm started to speak, then stopped short when the captain glared at him.
“Darm is skilled at his duties,” Pavlov continued, “but he has a trait common to free-spacers. He sometimes bends the rules to suit his own ends.”
“He must have Ferengi blood in his background.” No sooner had Sisko made the remark than Jake saw his father glance over at Nog as if to say that present company was excluded.
Nog only smiled. Jake knew he considered the commander’s statement not a slight, but a compliment.
“Returning to the subject at hand,” Sisko quickly continued. “We have a situation here that must be resolved.”
“Yes,” Pavlov agreed. He thought for a moment. “I have spent most of my life on the rim worlds, where we do tend to make our own rules. But this expedition to the Gamma Quadrant was under Federation charter.”
