Star Trek Deep Space Nine: Lengends of the Ferengi

by Ira Steven Behr

  Imagine the confusion. Ferengi from all over the Alliance were rocketing backwards around the sun, visiting the Guardian of Forever, diving into black holes, and generally making a temporal nuisance of themselves. It was the best of times and the worst of times, sometimes all at the same time.

  Think about it. Some young ambitious Ferengi hears about the whole time-travel craze and gets a hold of a few hundred thousand chroniton particles. Now maybe he goes into the future, to figure out how the market will act so he can anticipate it in the past … or maybe he goes back into the past, to change history, so that his investments will be more valuable … or maybe he does both. Or tries to do both and does neither. Or does one of them three times and one of them twice. Temporal dynamics is a bitch. But whatever he chooses, there’s a good chance he’ll wind up killing his own grandfather, marrying his own grandmother, accidentally causing the extinction of every tube grub on Ferenginar, preventing the invention of the wheel, and basically creating a temporal mess too horrible to contemplate.

  And he wouldn’t be alone. Because in 17,882, it seemed like everyone had their own personal timeline.

  Something had to be done.

  And a bold Ferengi named Twim did it. Just how he did it is anyone’s guess. Some say he came from the distant future to impose his temporal tyranny on Ferenginar. Others say he was just a gambler from the suburbs of Noi, who built his own time machine and went back to the beginnings of the universe itself to stack the deck in his favor. Whatever he did, it worked. When the dust cleared, Twim was the Grand Nagus, and the penalty for time travel was death.

  Now I know what you’re thinking. You could be like Twim. You could travel through time, rearranging history to your liking. But don’t try it. You’ll only get in trouble. And frankly, things are confusing enough as they are.

  So leave time travelling to the professionals, and remember Twim’s Rule, the Two Hundred Thirty-Sixth Rule of Acquisition:

  “You can’t buy fate.”

  And remember, it’s not just a Rule…. It’s the law.

  It’s been said that time is the fire in which we burn. Ferengi know time is just a pain in the lobes.

  RULE

  #239

  I know what you’re thinking. You’re almost done with this book, and it’s beginning to sink in that the title Legends of the Ferengi doesn’t tell the whole story. Sure, there are legends. Plenty of legends. But there are also songs, FCA reports, auction notices, an obituary, a school paper, not to mention carefully selected memos from my files. Now some of you may think that a book entitled Legends of the Ferengi should consist of legends and nothing but LEGENDS. You might accept a myth or two, but in your opinion, anything else reeks of betrayal.

  You couldn’t be further from the truth. What you have in your hands is a veritable potpourri of Ferengi culture, a wealth of information never before seen by hew-mon eyes. It’s ridiculous to think I didn’t have enough Ferengi legends to fill up a book. The Ferengi culture is a rich and ancient one, with tens of thousands of years of written and oral tradition. I wasn’t being lazy. I didn’t do things this way to reduce my workload. The bottom line is this book was specifically designed to meet your needs. Customer satisfaction was my highest priority.

  And besides, even if Legends of the Ferengi isn’t entirely accurate, it is a catchy title. And catchy titles sell books.

  Which is why I chose to follow the Two Hundred Thirty-Ninth Rule of Acquisition:

  “Never be afraid to mislabel a product.”

  It doesn’t matter what a thing is. All that counts is what you call it.

  RULE

  #242

  One of the most prestigious schools on Ferenginar is the Haryalevard Academy of Business Management. Among its graduates have been seven Grand Nagi, twelve Chief Liquidators of the FCA, and Ferenginar’s only military dictator, DaiMon Vurp, also known as Vurp the Inevitable (r. 15791-15792). Its first headmaster, the Venerable Chig, was the most honored scholar in Ferengi history. It was Chig who said those immortal words, “There are no stupid boys on Ferenginar. All right … maybe one or two.”

  Haryalevard is also by far the most profitable school in the Ferengi Alliance. Some believe this is because of the outrageously high tuition. True, the average Ferengi must go into debt for seventeen to eighteen years to pay for a Haryalevard education. But where the Academy really rakes it in … is the Student Store.

  Now, were not just talking notebooks and styluses, severely overpriced and sold to a captive audience. Surprisingly, that accounts for only a fraction of the Student Store profits. No, the real money is in souvenirs. Because even if you didn’t go to Haryalevard, you can still make people think you went to Haryalevard. All you need is a desk plaque … or a banner … or a headskirt, or any other knickknack embossed with the Academy’s coat of arms. And where can you get those and approximately two hundred fifty other signature items? The Student Store, of course.

  Now, you might say to yourself, I could buy a blank headskirt and write the word Haryalevard on it. I could even use the school colors (mauve and taupe). And you could. But you’d be making a mistake. Because Haryalevard has graduated seven Grand Nagi. And 7,899,023 litigators. And all the best ones work for … the Haryalevard Academy Student Store. Can you say, “Copyright infringement”? They can.

  So let’s take a moment and tip a glass to my alma mater. (And I’ve got a banner hanging in my bar to prove it.) To her moss-covered walls and soggy octangles. Long may she thrive.

  And let’s never forget the school motto, emblazoned on the Academy’s hallowed Toll Gate and recorded as the Two Hundred Forty-Second Rule of Acquisition:

  “More is good … all is better.”

  Here’s another hew-mon proverb: “You can’t have everything.” It’s a wonder they made it off the planet with that kind of attitude.

  RULE

  #255

  The following article appeared on the front page of the Ferengi Acquirer on Glorpober fifth, 18,083.

  GOUGE-MINING MAGNATE ESCAPES DEATH

  WIFE CHARGED IN MURDER ATTEMPT

  In the early morning hours, latinum mining king Squeeb, son of Been, was hauled from the flaming wreckage of his skimmer by two members of his private medical staff. Though suffering from various injuries, Squeeb is expected to make a full recovery.

  Shortly after his rescue, FCA liquidators arrested the victim’s wife, Jubbletta, and charger her with attempted murder. It seems Jubbletta had struck her husband over the head with a bar of latinum, stuffed his unconscious body into his skimmer, and then programmed its autopilot to crash into one of Squeeb’s own gouge mines.

  Luckily, unbeknownst to his wife, Squeeb has a duridium plate in his head, an unwanted souvenir from his stint in the military during the Lytasian Conflict. This plate cushioned the blow, enabling Squeeb to regain consciousness at the last moment and seize control of the skimmer, causing a fiery, but not fatal accident.

  Initial reports indicating that Jubbletta was having an affair with Squeeb’s accountant, Vinx, and was conspiring with him to take over Squeeb’s finacial empire seem to be in error. Vinx was questioned by Liquidators, but released on Squeeb’s request. No charges have been filed against the accountant.

  Read between the lines, and you’ll see that duridium plate or no duridium plate, Squeeb was a shrewd businessman.

  Because even in a crisis, he didn’t forget the Two Hundred Fifty-Fifth Rule of Acquisition:

  “A wife is a luxury … a smart accountant a necessity.”

  A good marriage should be profitable for both parties.

  RULE

  #261

  It’s said something strange happened to Squeeb, the latinum mining king, after his brush with death (see Rule #255). Beyond all logic, he came to appreciate life more than latinum. He began to spend his days wandering about the countryside, smelling the bog flowers, watching the suns set. Obviously, the man was deeply ill. But before he could seek professional help, fate, in the form of a h
olodocumentary he was watching, dealt him a cruel hand. The program detailed the plight of Ferengi gouge miners. Now in the hierarchy of Ferengi jobs, gouge mining is third from the bottom. It’s only one step above waste-extraction technician. And two above the worst job on the entire planet, which frankly I don’t even have the stomach to describe, but you know if it’s worse than being a W.E.T., it’s pretty bad.

  Anyway, gouge mining isn’t much fun. The hours are bad, the pay is low, and the workers have a life expectancy only slightly longer than a Tellurian gnat. Since Squeeb employed approximately one third of all the gouge miners on Ferenginar, he took the holodocumentary very seriously. But instead of suing the holomakers for libel like any sane Ferengi, Squeeb actually started worrying about his workers. He even got the twisted idea that he was somehow responsible for their plight.

  Lost in his madness, Squeeb decided to see for himself how his miners lived. Traveling to one of his largest gouge mines, he personally donned a pair of protective lobe shields and descended into the sweltering hot mine. There he revealed his presence to the miners and announced that he wanted to hear any grievances they might have against him.

  It’s said that by the time the miners were through with him, all that was left of Squeeb was the battered duridium plate that once lined his skull.

  So let’s have a moment of silence for poor confused Squeeb.

  And while we’re at it, how about we dedicate the Two Hundred Sixty-First Rule of Acquisition to his memory:

  “A wealthy man can afford anything except a conscience.”

  See what happens when you forget your Rules?

  No Ferengi ever got rich feeling guilty.

  RULE

  #263

  Of all the Ferengi success stories, none is less likely than that of Oblix, son of Sner. Oblix had no lobes for business. He couldn’t add, couldn’t subtract, and couldn’t remember any of the Rules of Acquisition.

  But he could talk.

  And talk, and talk, and talk. It’s said he could outtalk a Cardassian and still have energy left to debate logic with a Vulcan. And the strange thing is, people liked to listen to him. In no time at all, Oblix became the greatest motivational speaker in the history of Ferenginar.

  Oblix’s seminars, often held in tropical resort locations, became required listening for top executives from all over the Alliance. It’s said people came from as far away as Romulus to listen to Oblix’s rousing speeches, filled with business advice, market tips, and investment strategies. So persuasive was he that a whole generation of Ferengi adopted his philosophy of business.

  Ironically, no one can really explain what that philosophy was. When his speeches are analyzed, they appear to be vacuous and somewhat ephemeral, filled with vague examples and irrelevant stories. Bombastic in style and void of content, Oblix seems to have hit on a magic formula … talk and keep talking until anyone who doubts your words gives up from sheer exhaustion.

  Never was so much said about so little to so many. And never was so much admission charged to hear someone say so much about so little to so many. Oblix quickly became one of the richest Ferengi of his time, continuing his fiery (and very profitable) orations until he died an untimely, but well-deserved death from a ruptured vocal cord.

  We honor his memory. He sold nothing to everyone and got away with it. Truly, he was the perfect Ferengi.

  Interestingly, when boiled down, Oblix’s eighty thousand hours of recorded speeches can be summarized perfectly by the Two Hundred Sixty-Third Rule of Acquisition:

  “Never allow doubt to tarnish your lust for latinum.”

  Of course, he said it, a lot louder.

  Never allow doubt to tarnish your lust for latinum.

  RULE

  #266

  This book was intended as a public service, a way to help you pathetic hew-mons achieve your true profit potential (which admittedly in most of your cases isn’t much, but hey … you gotta try). And in the spirit of service, I thought it might be a good idea, as we draw to a close, to provide some specific examples of what to do when your misuse of these Rules leads you astray. In other words, in business, as in life, it always pays to have a really good lie ready for emergencies. Here are a few of the best:

  “Your payment is en route by subspace transfer.”

  “When I mentioned that profit figure, I clearly stated that it was only an estimate.”

  “I have no independent recollection of those events.”

  “I am not a crook.”

  “Ear massages are commonly exchanged during Ferengi business negotiations.”

  “I left it on that table over there. Some Vulcan must’ve taken it.”

  “Quark? Never heard of him.”

  “Ferengi are renowned throughout the Alpha Quadrant for their honesty and integrity.”

  “The warranty is provided by the manufacturer. If you contact him, I’m sure he’ll be happy to give you a complete refund.”

  “I already gave you your change.”

  And my personal favorite:

  “It’s my brother Rom’s fault.”

  Try them out. Once you see how well they work, you’ll never tell the truth again.

  And never forget the Two Hundred Sixty-Sixth Rule of Acquisition:

  “When in doubt, lie.”

  Truth in business is like matter and antimatter: If you put them together, they blow up in your face.

  RULE

  #284

  Well, you’re almost there. Just a few more pages to go. But before you finish this book, close the cover and put it on your shelf in a place of honor, walk over to the nearest mirror. Hold the book up to the mirror. Now look at yourself holding the book in the mirror. This book that you have just purchased and read. Ask yourself … why did you buy it? Oh, sure, the book is clever, hilarious, and erudite, and it makes a great gift. But we both know that’s not why you shelled out your hard-earned latinum for your very own copy.

  No. You wanted something more valuable. You wanted wisdom. You wanted the inside knowledge that have made the Ferengi a force to be reckoned with in the business world. In other words … an edge on the competition. You want that edge. You need that edge.

  Yeah, yeah. I know what you’re going to tell me. You’re a hew-mon. You’re better than us Ferengi. You’ve evolved “beyond greed.” Well I say to you … study that figure in the mirror, the one clutching a copy of this book. Look at yourself.

  Look long and hard.

  And you’ll come to realize that you, too, are living proof of the Two Hundred Eighty-Fourth Rule of Acquisition:

  “Deep down, everyone’s a Ferengi.”

  If there really is such a thing as a “cosmic truth,” it exists in Rule #284.

  RULE

  #285

  One last letter from my personal files, with a lesson for all of us.

  To my beloved Publisher,

  I note that as of today, it has been two months since my book Legends of the Ferengi was published on Ferenginar. I’d like to remind you that I advised against publishing this book on my homeworld. I specifically stated that this was a book intended solely for the hew-mon market. I am sure you recall our extensive conversations on the subject. However, you are the publisher…. I’m merely the lowly writer. You won, I lost. Fine.

  Except for one problem. It’s been two months and I’M STILL IN JAIL! What’s the matter with you people? You’re a highly respected publishing house. I would think you’d have some highly respected lawyers on your payroll. Now maybe they’ve all been on vacation for the past two months. Maybe they’re all busy taking care of other authors incarcerated because of your bad business decisions. But, frankly, I’m not interested in excuses. JUST GET ME OUT OF HERE!

  I wrote this book as a public service. I was trying to facilitate a better understanding between hew-mon and Ferengi. Is that so wrong? Do I deserve to rot here for the rest of my life just for telling a few stories? All right, so I forgot to pay the copyright fees to the descendants of Lonz
Golden Nostrils for quoting his song “The Wind in My Ears.” And perhaps it was rash of me to imply that the Ferengi Skimmerway Construction Department was a pawn of the Slug-o-Cola Bottling Company. And I probably crossed the line when I said, in jest, that ChiggerBurgerCorp might be overly zealous in its advertising campaigns. But it was all in good fun. No one was harmed. And any instances of libel, slander, copyright infringement, or illegalities of any kind were purely unintentional.

  I’m sure a deal can be arranged. It’ll just take a little effort on your part. And I have faith in you. I know that you’re not just letting me sit in jail to cheat me out of my royalty payments. You’re too evolved for that. Too noble. I know it’s just an oversight, and your lawyers will be attending to my case shortly. I’ll be out of here in no time … Right? Right?

  Yours in innocence,

  Quark, Son of Keldar, aka Prisoner #17-237-991

  I never thought it would happen to me, but it did. I stand before you, an unfortunate and undeniable example of the Two Hundred Eighty-Fifth Rule of Acquisition:

  “No good deed ever goes unpunished.”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Ira Steven Behr and Robert Hewitt Wolfe would like to thank the following people, without whose love, affection, and attention, this book would’ve been finished a lot sooner: Laura Behr, Roxanne and Jesse Behr, and Celeste Wolfe.

  We’d also like to thank the writers, staff, cast and crew at STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE, above all Jill Sherwin who spent hours proofing this manuskript.