He settled in front of her console, bringing up the datastrings of her last several transmissions, looking for any visible markers to suggest that they had been monitored. He was shocked to discover that Thrax had been listening to all of them, and he played back the recordings, carefully reading the transcripts as he went.

There was nothing there to implicate Quark, he was certain, but he was disturbed that Thrax had been listening in. What did the security officer want with her? Something to do with her job, maybe? Quark hoped that whatever it was, she would be safe. On the other hand, he considered, maybe Thrax just listened to everyone’s transmissions. Quark was sure that the security chief had tried, numerous times, to eavesdrop on his own communications, but Quark didn’t skimp on tech; he had the very best—well, close to the best—modules and wire blocks, to keep his private business private. He decided that when Natima got back, he’d talk with her about upgrading her hardware.

He was ready to leave, but there was a padd next to Natima’s console, open to a page with a particular line of characters, and he couldn’t help but take a peek. It was in plain sight, after all. It was an acquisition code; Quark knew it immediately—he received similar sequences constantly from the military personnel who came through the bar and put their orders on their government-issued accounts. This one was probably from Natima’s place of employment, the…Information people, whatever-it-was. She must have been ordering something just before she left. But this sequence included something extra to make it stand out from those that Quark dealt with every other day of his life. This one was complete with a passcode.

Quark drummed his fingers on her desk, frowning, thinking. With the passcode that was now in front of him, he had the means to access Natima’s company acquisition accounts. If Quark was careful with it, he might be able to manipulate the sequence so that any purchases he made with it would not be attributed to Natima. Cardassians were notoriously sloppy with matters of finance. Quark knew that well enough; there were several customers that he regularly skimmed from, and they had never even suspected it.

No.He couldn’t betray her. Although…he could certainly help a lot of Bajorans with this information. She hadn’t said as much outright, but he knew how she felt about the occupation, knew that she sympathized with the Bajorans. If she had the know-how, she would certainly be using her account to help them. He could use the code to order goods under an assumed Cardassian persona, or maybe…just skim enoughthat nobody would even notice. She would never even have to know—and if she did, would she necessarily disapprove, considering all the good the code could do for the Bajoran people?

He let out a breath, chiding himself for his weak rationalizations. He was a Ferengi, and Ferengi lived to make profit. If he didn’t take advantage of this opportunity, why, it would almost be immoral. He’d answer to the Blessed Exchequer if he ignored this code—and for what? The sake of some Cardassian female? He wasn’t about to let a woman wreck his chance at success again, not after what had happened with Gera on Ferenginar.

“Right,” he said, and fished another padd from the pocket on his waistcoat to copy the characters, quickly, before he changed his mind. Guilt was for hew-mons, not Ferengi, but still, he couldn’t help but remind himself that just because he hadthe code didn’t mean he had to useit. And if he did use it, he’d use it for good. If he made a little profit from doing good, where was the harm?

Upon returning Jaxa to her parents, Odo was immediately insistent that he be the one to deliver the message to the resistance cell in the mountains. The man named Keral was grateful, but wary. His wife seemed especially afraid while Keral was drawing Odo a sort of map. Using a little stick, he had scratched out a picture on a slice of parchment, and Odo had done his best to commit it all to memory.

These people, Odo was beginning to deduce, were very afraid of the Cardassians. Odo wondered if Doctor Mora had also been so afraid of them. He knew that there was something unspoken between Mora and Reyar, but he had never quite placed it as fear. He did not understand why anyone would be deliberately unkind to another person, but he felt more aware of his own differences than he ever had before.

Odo had finally found an appropriate surface for regeneration: a wide rock with a slight depression. It was flat enough that he could spread himself out, but the raised edges were high enough to keep him from trickling to the forest floor in his liquid state. He was exhausted, having traveled for most of the day, and although he was very close to the mountain pass, he needed time to rest before he could go any further.

He had spent the day experimenting, taking on the appearance of various flora and fauna, some of the inert forms he encountered along the way, as well as animals he remembered from the laboratory database. The question of the child Jaxa had resonated with him: What do you want to be more than anything else?Odo had never considered it before, but now, as he settled into the shallow, concave well in the rock, he decided he did not care to be in solid form; being a liquid was relaxing, and felt the most natural.

The only trouble was that being a liquid didn’t lend itself to interacting with humanoids, and for some reason that he could not explain, he found humanoid interaction to be deeply compelling, to be preferable to being on his own. How he had hated the long hours and days he remained in the laboratory with no interaction from Doctor Mora! He craved the company of others, though he was not sure why; he only knew that he disliked the sensation of going for such lengthy, bleak stretches without it.

So, despite his preference for being in his natural state, while in the company of others, he would have to remain as a humanoid, as long as he could stand it. He did not want to give anyone reason to emphasize his differences, for it seemed that the Bajorans and Cardassians hated one another solely because of the contrasts between them. Odo was far more dissimilar to either race then they were even to each other—they were both humanoid; they were both solid—and yet, they clearly despised one another. For that reason, Odo knew he must remain as a humanoid if he wanted to avoid being similarly despised.

He had not been regenerating long before he was stirred from his state of pleasantly senseless liquidity. Something was moving through the forest. Odo manifested a few sensory organs in order to investigate comfortably.

It was a humanoid, coming through the forest. The clomping of approaching boots was accompanied by a series of chirps and clicks, indicating that the traveler carried several pieces of noisy equipment. Odo held completely still while the intruder passed him. It was a Cardassian male, dressed as a soldier.

Odo wondered how best to approach the situation. He did not feel especially afraid, for although the Bajorans feared the soldiers, Odo wasn’t sure if their weapons would have any effect on his physiology. He believed he could not be contained in any way, and felt calmly confident in his ability to escape, should the situation warrant it.

The soldier continued to tramp back and forth, patrolling the region in a chaotic crisscross, as though trying to confirm his suspicions about something. It was possible that Odo had left some sign of his passing, that the soldier was interpreting as evidence of another person in the area. Without thinking much more on the subject, Odo decided to make his presence known. He wasn’t doing anything wrong, and if he simply presented himself as a traveler, perhaps the soldier would then go away and allow Odo to continue with his regeneration.