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The woman’s voice rings out over the Promenade, loud and clear, even over the hubbub of the crowd. “Mr. Woof!”
Worf stops dead in his tracks, eyes going wide with alarm. He doesn’t turn around, not yet. Kahless give him strength.
“Yoo hoo! Mr. Woof! Up here!”
With a long-suffering sigh, he slowly turns and looks up at one of the pedestrian bridges overhead. There stands Lwaxana Troi, in all her flamboyant pink-and-sparkling glory, waving one hand excitedly, a broad smile on her face. Much to his consternation, people nearby are staring and a few are even sniggering, until he fixes them with a warning glare.
“Madam, may I remind you that is Worf, not Woof.”
“Of course, dear. Stay right there! I’m coming down!”
He’s already running late for dinner with Alexander and he doesn’t want to keep him waiting any longer. Their relationship is not as strained as it was when Alexander was a child, especially now that Alexander is making his own way at the Academy, yet Worf worries. Punctuality and reliability are important. “Madam, I-”
“I’ll be just a minute! Alexander won’t mind!”
Worf grumbles under his breath, but he obediently waits for her to descend the stairs. She is family, after all. When Worf asked Deanna to be Alexander’s Soh-chim, both Troi women wholeheartedly accepted Alexander as one of their own and Worf will be forever grateful to them for that. Without them, he doesn’t know how he would have made it through those first difficult years after K’Ehleyr’s death. Beneath the frustration Lwaxana causes him, Worf truly does feel a genuine attachment to her.
Lwaxana comes up, kisses him on the cheek, and loops one of her arms through his. “Darling, it’s been entirely too long!” They walk together towards the Klingon restaurant, Lwaxana chattering away with news from everywhere: Betazed, Earth, the Enterprise. The latter is what most interests Worf, though he could live without the speculation on Captain Picard’s love life, or lack thereof. Still, he is pleased that his old friends are doing well.
It is not until they reach the restaurant that Worf is able to speak again, and then only to greet Alexander and apologize for his tardiness. Alexander’s eyes light up at the sight of Lwaxana, however, so all is easily forgiven. Lwaxana lets go of Worf and opens up her arms to Alexander, who happily returns the hug. He’s missed her terribly and does not share in his father’s resistance to displays of affection.
When they pull apart from the hug, with a big smile Alexander asks, “What are you doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I came to see you, of course!”
“Me? Why?”
“Do I need a reason?”
Alexander smiles shyly. “No, I guess not.”
“Well, there you go!
They all take a seat at a nearby table, where they are soon approached by Korth, the proprietor of this restaurant. He grins and slaps Worf on the back. “Worf, my friend, you must introduce me to your charming companion!”
Lwaxana bats her eyelashes and leans forward, chin on her hands. “Yes, Mr. Worf, you simply must.”
Worf looks beseechingly at Alexander for help, but he just shrugs in pseudo-helplessness, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Worf admirably swallows another sigh before introducing the two. Korth immediately proceeds to shamelessly flirt with Lwaxana, even going so far as to dedicate an impromptu ballad to her. She, of course, loves it, clapping enthusiastically when he finishes. He bows, then finally takes their order.
When he leaves the table, Lwaxana says, “What a lovely man! I’m sorry I haven’t visited this restaurant before!”
Worf grunts noncommittally and Alexander grins at Lwaxana. “Father thinks Korth is inappropriate.”
“Well, an inappropriate man is just what I’m looking for!” she exclaims, eyes twinkling mischievously.
“Unless his intentions towards you are serious, he should not be singing such songs. And certainly not in public.”
Lwaxana waves one hand dismissively, “Oh poo! Don’t be so old-fashioned! He can sing to me whenever and wherever he wants. In fact… I think you should give it a try yourself sometime.”
“Yes, Father, you should!” Alexander chips in, “Jadzia would love it. Give her little concert on the Promenade. Quark could sell tickets. I bet he’d make a fortune!”
Worf visibly blanches at this suggestion for a moment before recovering himself with a rueful smile at his son. “You are teasing me.”
Lwaxana affects a shocked look. “Why, Worf, I’m sure Alexander would never do such a thing!”
Alexander nods solemnly. “That’s right. Teasing my own father! It’s unthinkable!”
Crossing his arms, Worf huffs good-naturedly as he looks at Lwaxana. “You are a bad influence on him.”
She smiles serenely and pats Alexander’s hand. “Someone needs to be. Tell me, dear, how was your first year at the Academy?” It’s summer now in San Francisco, so Alexander and Nog have returned to the station for a month to visit their families during the break.
Alexander hesitates slightly before answering, knowing that his standard answer of “it’s been fine” won’t cut it with her. It’s not totally a lie – his grades are decent and he has made a few friends. His Klingon heritage is not such a novelty now, not with the first Ferengi to join Starfleet around, alleviating some of the apprehensions he had going in. But… “I don’t know,” he finally says, “It seems like everyone else already knows exactly what they want to be doing when they graduate. They want to be an anthropologist or an engineer or a doctor. I have no idea what I want to do, other than be in Starfleet.” He glances nervously over at his father, to whom he hasn’t admitted any of this yet. Worf, of course, wants him to be a security officer, which is the one thing that Alexander is certain he doesn’t want to be. However, his father shows no outward reaction to this news, to Alexander’s relief. Whatever Worf is thinking, he’s not voicing it, so Alexander is content to let Lwaxana worry about that.
“Oh but that’s completely normal!” she says. “Deanna changed her mind about three or four times before she settled on psychology. And don’t even get me started on her father. I thought he’d never make up his mind!”
“Really?”
“Really. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you… don’t worry if it’s not all planned out yet. Anyway, everything is more interesting that way.” She pauses to study him for a moment. A lot of people find it disconcerting, to have a Betazoid evaluating them this way, but Alexander is not only used to it, he actually finds it to be a relief. Having someone who understands you, without you having to say a word or explain anything… it’s comforting, when he so often has trouble expressing his feelings. Lwaxana continues, “I’m on my way to Madena to facilitate some trade negotiations. Mr. Homn isn’t feeling well and I need an assistant.” She gives him one of her patented Significant Looks that brook no argument.
Still he tries, wriggling uncomfortably in his seat. “Me? I don’t know… I haven’t even taken the right courses yet…”
“Nonsense! Diplomacy is better learned in person, not in the classroom. Besides,” she claps her hands together, “you’ll be perfect! You’re intelligent and diligent and most importantly, observant. I couldn’t do anything with the last cadet they sent me. Dull as a rock, never knew what was going on. Simply awful. I don’t know how he got into the Academy in the first place.”
To Alexander’s surprise, Worf approves. “This is a good opportunity, Alexander. I think you should take it.”
Chewing on his lip, Alexander looks back and forth between the two of them as he tries to decide what to do. There is a certain appeal to what she’s offering him: he could be like his mother, brokering for peace rather than advocating for war. Many Klingons saw his mother’s human half as a weakness, but Alexander has always felt more connection to his human heritage than his Klingon one, despite Worf’s efforts. Yet… he is worried. What if he isn’t diplomat material? What if he lets Lwaxana down?
Lwaxana squeezes his hand. “Darling, if you don’t open yourself up to new experiences, you’re letting yourself down, not me. It’ll only be for a few days, you’ll be back here within a week.”
Alexander nods slowly, once, twice, a small smile working its way back onto his face. “I’ll do it. I’ll go.”
Lwaxana throws her arms up in triumph. “Wonderful!” She pushes back her chair and stands. “There’s so much to do before we go! First we need to get you a new wardrobe, this cadet uniform will never do–”
“But we haven’t –” Worf protests, just as Korth brings their dinner.
“No time! We’ll grab a jumja stick on our way to Garak’s. Come along, Alexander,” she says, gesturing for him to follow in that imperious way of hers. Not doubting for a moment that he’ll follow, she sweeps off, her long dress flowing behind her. Alexander shoots his father an apologetic look before hurrying after her eagerly.
~~~
“The Federation sent us a Klingon and a woman?” the head Ferengi negotiator, Drega, hisses. “How can I be expected to work with you?”
Alexander bristles, knuckles turning white as he clenches the handle of Lwaxana’s travel case, but he needn’t worry. Lwaxana draws herself up to her full height and looks down at Drega disdainfully. “You better find a way, little man, because I am Lwaxana Troi, Daughter of the Fifth House, holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed, and your Grand Nagus is the one who specifically requested my presence here today.”
Drega’s eyes widen at this information and he tugs on his ear nervously. “You’re bluffing.”
Lwaxana bends down, bringing her gaze level with his. “I never bluff. But be my guest: if you’re willing to cross the Grand Nagus…”
He throws up his hands in front of his face, as if that will protect him. “No, no,” he says, laughing uneasily, “I’m sure we’ll all come to a … profitable arrangement.”
Lwaxana straightens up, hands on hips. “For your sake, I hope so.”
Alexander notes that the Bolian financial minister, Ornall, is watching this exchange with great amusement, hiding her smile in her drink. No doubt, the Ferengi reacted to her gender just as negatively. The Bolians, like the Betazoids, traditionally consisted of matriarchal societies, and seeing them clash with the patriarchy of Ferenginar was always interesting, to say the least. Alexander has been witness to more than one such clash, thanks to Nog, who seems to have a special penchant for putting his foot in his mouth when it comes to girls.
When Drega scurries away on some pretense of urgent business, Alexander leans over to Lwaxana and whispers, “Do you really know the Grand Nagus?”
“Of course I do,” she says, as if that should be a blindingly obvious fact, “But more importantly, I know Ishka.”
“Nog’s grandmother?” Alexander has never met Ishka, but he’s heard stories.
“Never underestimate the power of the people behind the scenes,” Lwaxana says, pointing one forefinger at him for emphasis. “That toad over there has no idea what’s coming for him. He’s too busy worrying about his own accounts and what the Grand Nagus might do if he botches this deal up to realize Ishka’s the real one he should be afraid of.”
Alexander is about to ask what she means by that, but they are all soon called into the room by their Madenan host. Madena proved to be an ideal selection for a neutral meeting ground, because of its central location and relatively good relations with both the Ferengi and the Federation. Most significantly, the royal family made no objection to the entourage of Ferengi merchants and opportunists that followed in Drega’s wake, which is what finally made the Ferengi agree to meet here. This arrangement struck Alexander as odd, improper to the situation, but Lwaxana was unfazed by it, assuring him it was standard operating procedure when it came to dealing with the Ferengi.
Today, they’re here to discuss the threat by several large corporations of Ferenginar to pull their investments out of the Bank of Bolias, after several security failures and extreme fluctuations in the Bolian Credit Exchange. If they follow through on their threat, it would wreak financial havoc throughout the quadrant, something the Federation does not need right now, on top of continued Dominion encroachment into the Alpha Quadrant. So while normally the Bolians would handle such matters internally, this time, they asked for the Federation to send an Ambassador.
Lwaxana, Ornall, Drega, as well as the President of the Bank of Bolias and the CFOs of three of the major corporations take their seats at a large round table in the center of the room, while Alexander joins the other attachés and functionaries standing at attention along the walls. He offers a small smile to the young Madenan man he ends up standing next to, only to receive a sneer in return. Alexander feels that familiar and unwelcome angry heat rise up in him, but when he catches Lwaxana’s watchful eye – surely she felt that – he takes a few deep breaths. It won’t help anyone, especially not Lwaxana, for him to snap at the Madenan. Determined not to let her down, he straightens his shoulders and stares straight ahead, doing his best to ignore the presence of the other man until he calms down. Lwaxana gives him a subtle nod, hopefully of approval, before turning her focus back to the conference.
As the negotiations begin, Alexander is surprised, though maybe he shouldn’t be, by the transformation of Lwaxana from his affectionate Soh-chim to a diplomatic force to be reckoned with. This is a role that he’s never seen her in or, for that matter, thought about much at all. The fact that she is a diplomat has always been just sort of background information, only effecting him in that it’s what usually brought her to the Enterprise for a visit. As a child, he lived for those visits, the rare times he felt like he got an adult’s truly undivided attention. He didn’t care what she was to the rest of the galaxy, what mattered was who she was to him: his advocate, his partner-in-crime, his friend. The first real friend he ever had and still the one he felt understood him the best. He has always thought he knew her well too – after all, he had been witness to her profound loneliness, a part of her that few others were aware of. Now, he’s beginning to realize how little he really knows about her.
With great admiration, he watches her wielding her words as skillfully as Worf wields a bat’leth. Despite the fact that this began with Drega trying to wheedle ludicrous concessions out of the Bolians for the dubious honor of their patronage, Lwaxana quickly turns the table, putting Drega on the defensive. He clearly was not expecting her to be quite ruthlessly knowledgeable on the details of finance. After all, most Federation citizens aren’t, with the notable exception of the Bolians of course. Alexander himself is a bit lost, wishing Nog was here to explain all these unfamiliar terms like arbitrage, scalability, and cash reserve ratios. It’s all threatening to make his head spin, so he gives up on trying to follow the exact details of the conversation and instead focuses on the manner in which everyone is conducting themselves. And as things progress, he picks up on some things that seem, well… suspicious.
When it comes time, a couple hours later, for a recess and the Madenans bring out refreshments, Lwaxana beckons Alexander over.
“Alexander, dear, I need to take a little walk outside. This room is absolutely stifling!”
Alexander dutifully offers her his arm and they head for the nearby courtyard, presumably so they can talk away from those formidable Ferengi ears. As soon as they are far enough away, Lwaxana says, “Well! This is shaping up to be much more interesting than I was expecting! And you, brilliant boy, I know you were paying excellent attention the whole time, so tell me, what all did you see?”
“I had a hard time understanding everything that was going on, but …” he drops off, uncertain if what he saw really meant anything.
“But?” Lwaxana prompts, though her knowing look tells him she already knows what he’s about to say.
“… I think there is something going on between the Ferengi and the Madenans.” He frowns. “Maybe not all of them. I don’t actually think Drega knows anything.”
Lwaxana snorts. “That much is obvious.”
With a small grin at that, Alexander continues, “The others though, the representatives from the actual corporations… they seemed entirely too uninterested in pushing the Bolians. I mean, they’ve let Drega do all the negotiating when you’d think they’d be in the midst of the arguing, trying to get the best deal for themselves. It’s seems like too good an opportunity to pass up. To me, anyway.”
“I agree,” says Lwaxana and Alexander feels some relief at that. So he wasn’t imagining things. “No, I’d say your observations are spot-on. There’s more though, right?”
He nods. “The closer you and Minister Ornall get to brokering a deal with Drega, the more agitated the Madenans have gotten, which I thought was weird. So I started paying more attention to what they were doing. The one next to me,” here, Alexander can’t help but snarl a little, thinking about how he was snubbed, “he has a PADD on him. Originally, I thought he was just using it for record keeping. However, I managed to get a look at the screen and realized he was tapping out a message to someone. Now, I can’t be certain about this, since I only got a brief glance, but I believe the message was set on the same frequency as Ferengi universal translators.”
Lwaxana looks genuinely surprised at this revelation. “How do you know that?”
Alexander shrugs. “Nog had some trouble with his translator when we first started at the Academy and I helped him modify it so that it wouldn’t interfere with the Starfleet issued translators. Ferengi hear at a much higher pitch than most humanoids so they have to adjust their translators accordingly, when dealing with the rest of us. I could see where they could use this to their advantage, communicate with one another in a pitch most others couldn’t hear. And if the Medenans are tapping into that electronically…”
Lwaxana smiles triumphantly, “Marvelous! I was wondering how they were managing that.”
Alexander looks crestfallen. “Then… you already knew? That they were talking secretly?” He should have guessed, but still… he was hoping to be more helpful to her.
“I may not be able to read the Ferengi – thank the goddess for small mercies! – but the Medenans are another matter. They were extremely displeased by my arrival and have been trying to throw up mental blocks ever since. Admittedly, they’ve had some success, especially since I can’t afford to divert all my attention to them, but they didn’t count on you either, now did they!” She gives his arm a little reassuring squeeze. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve done very well. I wanted to see how much you picked up on your own. Besides, you’ve still discovered something I hadn’t.” Leaning in towards him, she whispers, “I’ll let you in on a secret: we Betazoids are not infallible.”
“Even Daughters of the Fifth House?”
“Even Daughters of the Fifth House. Don’t tell anyone though. Can’t tarnish our reputation like that you know.”
“No, of course not. Your secret is safe with me.” He tilts his head curiously, “So we know that the Madenans and the Ferengi are in secret communication with one another. But why?”
“The Madenans have long felt marginalized by the bigger powers in the Alpha quadrant, but if the royal bank could secure these Ferengi corporations as patrons, offer them more favorable interest rates-”
Excited by what they’re uncovering, Alexander interrupts, “It would suddenly give them a lot more leverage!” He pauses, considering something. “But Grand Nagus Zek must not know about the deal or he would have never requested you.”
“No, he wouldn’t. And he would have sent a better negotiator than Drega. But remember, Ishka’s the real brains behind the operation here. I believe this is a counter move on her part. She’s counting on me to thwart their plans.” She grins appreciatively. “Clever woman, and her own people don’t even recognize it.”
“If this benefits the Ferengi though, why would she be working against it?”
“Oh, this is all essentially an internal power play amongst the Ferengi. Besides, it’s doubtful that this deal with the Madenans would profit the Alliance in the long run and part of what makes Ishka such a formidable businesswoman is her ability to think in the long term as well as the short term. She’ll take risks, but not foolish ones.” Abruptly, she veers him back in the direction of the conference hall. “Now that we’ve got that all sorted out, I believe we best bring this to the delegates’ attention, hmm?”
~~~
Back on the Ambassador’s shuttle, making their return to Deep Space Nine, Alexander stares out the window, thinking about everything that had happened at the conference. Once he and Lwaxana had revealed the secret dealings between the Madenans and the Ferengi corporations, there was much backtracking and wheedling and even a few dramatic reveals, the state of the Bank of Bolias all but forgotten. In the end, Ornall and Drega agreed to revisit the issue at a later date, which, essentially means things are left as they were.
“Days like this happen, much more than anyone appreciates,” says Lwaxana, in response to his unspoken frustration.
Frowning, Alexander turns to face her, pounding one fist on the table next to him. “It’s all so pointless! Why did we all even come here if nothing changed?!”
Lwaxana looks pointedly at the brand new dent in the table. “Careful, dear.”
Alexander glances down. Damn. “Sorry.”
“It’s alright. Nothing Mr. Homn can’t fix.” She returns her gaze to his disgruntled face. “There are rarely true ‘winners’ and ‘losers’ when it comes to diplomacy, rarely any absolutes. Things often move more slowly than we would want. In all likelihood, today marked only the first of many conferences before an ultimate agreement is reached. But that doesn’t make it pointless. We learned a lot today – especially about the Madenans – which will help us in the future.”
He sighs, unconsciously sounding and looking, for a moment, very much like his father. “I guess. I don’t know if it’s what I want to be doing, though.”
“Maybe not, but the point is to open yourself to all sorts of experiences! You can’t find yourself all in one go. I’m still finding parts of myself, often in the most unexpected of places!”
Alexander nods. There was part of him that somehow expected that maybe this trip would be a revelation, that he would suddenly know exactly who and what he wanted to be. Still, despite his disappointment, he is grateful, as always, for Lwaxana’s efforts on his behalf. Giving her one of his shy smiles he says, “Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome, my little warrior. Though, I suppose you’re not so little anymore.”
“That’s okay. I don’t mind. I may not know what else I am going to be yet, but I know I'll always be your little warrior at least."
Her gaze softening fondly, Lwaxana opens up her arms to him once again.