All language subtitles for Star.Trek.Deep.Space.Nine.S02E11.UHQ.NTSC.DVDRip.DD5.1.x264-Hi10P-LiGHTSPEED

When my husband was alive,
we ran the business together

and I managed to put away

a bit of latinum
every year just for myself.

Now he's gone, well...

I've got quite a little sum.

That's important.

Well, to be honest,
it's not enough --

not for the future --

not for the way I want
to live out my retirement.

So, I've decided
to invest it all in...

I can't believe
I'm telling you this.

I just met you.

But I feel like
I can really trust you.

It's like I've
known you forever.

When hearts are in sympathy,

time collapses.

I'm taking everything I saved

and I'm purchasing
the mining concession

on the entire
Vlugtan asteroid belt.

How ambitious, and such
an adventurous undertaking

for a woman of your
delicate sensibilities.

But are you sure that's wise?

Prospecting can be risky.

Not this time.

My father was
a stellar cartographer.

30 years ago,

he conducted a full spectrum

mineral analysis
of those asteroids,

but he never had the means
to follow up on what he found.

And now you plan to carry
out your father's dream.

When his survey results
become public

I'll get seven times
my investment back -- overnight.

I still can't believe
I'm telling you this.

My secret plan.

I've been thinking
about it for years.

I never even told my husband.

It must be all
this Gamzian wine.

How brave you are,

to do all of this on your own.

It hasn't been easy.

There's so much to keep track of,

so much to do.

Maybe I could help.

Would you consider some
kind of partnership?

Let's go.

Exactly where are we going?

To Security.

But I've done nothing wrong.

It's true.
We were just talking.

You were talking, Madam.
He was listening.

Security Chief Odo, isn't it?

I've been watching you
ever since you arrived.

Should I be flattered?

Martus Mazur, a refugee
from the El-Aurian system.

Well, everyone has to be
from somewhere.

Where are you from, Odo?

Don't pull that routine on me.

What routine?

I know all about you El-Aurians.

You're listeners.
People like to talk to you.

Everyone has to have
someone to confide in --

someone to hear their stories.

I offer a sympathetic ear

and if they request my help,
I give it to them.

That couple from
Pythro V told me

you asked for their
financial access codes.

Some might call helping
an elderly couple

invest their savings
a compassionate act.

Not when you invest it
in your own business --

a business that promptly folds.

I had a run of bad luck.

No one regrets it
more than I do.

You're a con man.

And they've signed a complaint.

This isn't necessary.

It really isn't necessary.

I'm not going anywhere.

Let's have a drink.

Talk a bit?

Chief.

Hello, Doctor.

Great job.

You built it yourself,
didn't you?

Yeah, just finished.

I missed playing

and I figured
there would be at least

a couple of other players
on board.

Didn't think
you'd be one of them.

Captain of the team
at Starfleet Medical Academy.

We took the Sector Championships
in my final year.

Against other medical students?

Against everybody.

Played a Vulcan in the finals.

Talk about stamina.

Didn't think he ever actually
broke a sweat.

And you won?

Took him
on a back wall riser shot.

Oh, well, I can't say

I've had much in the way
of formal training myself

but it's been a serious pastime
for a lot of years.

Oh, some of the toughest players
I've come up against

didn't really know
what they were doing.

Really?

Ah... formally, I mean.

Hey, whatever works, works.

This exercise, for example,

I picked up at a tournament
from a top player.

It's a 5,000-year-old
battle warm-up.

According to the legend,

it makes the heart
a friend to the hand.

Medically, I don't really know
what that means

but, uh, it seems to give me
a lot of energy.

Fancy a game?

Serve.

I guess by the lines,
you prefer the old-style rules?

I can play any style you like.

Traditional it is, then.

Always been my
personal favorite.

Serve.

One.

Pardon me, friend.

Pardon me.

Friend...

friend, are you all right?

I thought you died.

If only I could be so fortunate.

You were snoring.

Please accept my apologies.

I didn't mean to disturb you.

But, as you can see,
my health is not so good.

Yes. Well, I'm sorry
I had to wake you.

I wasn't always like this.

Of course not.

I had youth,

vigor, fame...

wealth beyond measure.

All gone.

I'm not listening.

All because of this.

A gambling device?

Did you win?

Of course not.

You gambled away
everything you had?

In a manner of speaking.

Every trade deal I struck
was a disaster.

Every alliance I formed
fell apart.

Every endeavor backed,
a failure.

Well, what does this
have to do with a toy?

Sounds like you just had
a lot of rotten luck.

Yes...

rotten luck.

In the end,
it all comes down to luck.

I won!

That's nice.

What did you win?

Officer...

you've got a dead
prisoner in here.

Officer!

How'd it go?

Good workout?

Medical school...

Captain of the team
at medical school.

Who are you talking about?

Bashir.

You had a game?

No, he had a game.

I just kind of stumbled around
the court for 90 minutes

and made
a complete ass of myself.

I'm sure
he didn't see it that way.

The hell he didn't --

that smug look on his face.

"I guess you prefer
old-style rules."

Like I was some kind of fossil.

In my day, I could have wiped
the court with him.

That's a point.
You're not a kid anymore.

It's nothing to be ashamed of.

People just naturally slow down.

Oh, like molasses
in winter, huh?

Thanks.

Miles, you're taking this
way too seriously.

I'm out of shape, that's all.

I just need to get me wind back.

Sector champion, my eye.

He's vulnerable
to every one of my best shots.

I just...
I just couldn't get them there.

This time.

I thought he was going
to have a heart attack.

Come on, Julian,
it couldn't have been that bad.

No, really, his
face was flushed.

I could have taken his pulse
just watching the side of his neck.

Then why didn't you stop it?

Well, don't think I didn't try.

After the first game, I told
him I had an appointment --

he ignored me.

After the second game,
I told him I was getting tired.

He didn't believe me.

And then his racket broke,
and I thought, "Finally..."

But no, he made me stay there

while he went away and
replicated another one.

So, what finally happened?

While he was gone

I called my assistant
and told her...

May I?

...told her to call me back
after five minutes

and say there was an
emergency at the Infirmary.

- Oh, that's terrible.
- There was no other way out.

Otherwise, there would have been
an emergency --

Chief O'Brien's coronary.

Well, at least it's all over.

That's just it.

This is just the beginning.

The Chief wants a rematch

and I'm telling you,
it's going to kill him.

Honestly, Julian,
you're exaggerating.

O'Brien can't be a day over 38.

That's too young to die.

I guess I'm overstating
the health risk.

That's not the point.

The Chief has a lot of pride

and for good reason.

I really respect him --
the things he does

the kind of man he is.

I just... I just don't
want to humiliate him.

Another winner.

What luck.

The Pythron couple
has refused to press charges.

You can go.

Of course.

Didn't I tell you?

They're my friends.

All right.
Double or nothing.

House always takes blue.

Sorry, the drink's on you.

Can I help you?

Prosecco.

And how do you plan
on paying for this?

With charm, perhaps?

Double or nothing.

Double nothing is still nothing.

If I lose, I'll give you this.

House always takes blue.

Lucky.

My luck's running good today.

So I've heard.

Decided not to testify,
did they?

I don't know what you mean.

No?

The 47th Rule
of Acquisition says

"Don't trust a man wearing
a better suit than your own."

Either you're a con artist,

or you're covering up
an empty coin purse.

I happen to know it's both.

Well, we can't be all
as successful as you are.

Too true.

Some kind of game?

I've never seen that one before.
How do you play?

Just press the key.

Too bad.

As I told you,
my luck's running good today.

Am I supposed to be impressed?

A little tinkering

some replication
and expansion...

It might make
a nice addition to your casino.

And who would play this?

It's just a child's toy.

My nephew, um...

it might keep him out of my ears
for a couple of days.

I'll take it.

That's a tidy sum.

I'm feeling benevolent today.

Have another.

I might have accepted,
but the offer of the drink --

that tells me
you're very interested.

Nonsense.
You read too much into nothing.

My benevolence
is known far and wide.

Oh, it's legendary, I'm sure.

I'll take 100 times
what you've got here.

Not in this space-time
continuum, you won't.

Go try to peddle this little
triviality down on Bajor.

You might be able
to trade it for a meal,

but it won't be a hot one.

You'll be in profit
by the end of the week.

Final offer.

Take it before
my generosity fades.

Perhaps I'll hold onto it
a bit longer.

Suit yourself.

But be under no illusion --

if I was serious about
acquiring this, it would be mine

and for substantially less
than what you had hoped for.

It seems that overconfidence
comes in small packages around here.

My track record
speaks for itself

just like your security file.

Thanks for the drink.

Times are difficult.

Oh, it's not that.

Business was good.

Then why are you shutting down?

My husband and I ran
this place for nine years.

Before that, we had
a shop on Bajor for 17.

But a few months ago,
he passed away

and my heart's
just not in it anymore.

Not the same, is it?

Working by yourself?

No.

It's so much nicer
working next to someone else.

You understand.

Nice shot.

Damn!

You think I'm stupid, too, hmm?

I... don't know what
you're talking about.

I don't need your charity.

Next time, you either
play your best game

or you don't play.

He can't do this.

I have an exclusive contract.

I want him arrested.

Who are you talking about?

Martus, that listener.

What's he done?

Just look.

Welcome, friends.

Welcome, welcome.

Welcome to Club Martus.

I have a contract
for which I paid considerably.

All gambling at DS9

happens at Quark's,
or it doesn't happen.

A few bribes to the Cardassians
when they ran this place

doesn't constitute a contract.

Not in the eyes
of the Federation.

He's a con artist, a crook.

One more won't make
much difference.

Need I remind you
that without me

the other merchants would have abandoned
this station after the occupation.

You owe me!

You begged me to stay here

when you first came on board

and I did, against
my better judgment.

I didn't beg.
I blackmailed you.

And don't pretend it
hasn't paid off for you either.

It's paid off fine until now.

Martus is cutting
into my profits.

I want him stopped,
before it gets any worse.

Too late for that, my brother.

What's the meaning of this?

I've promised
your underpaid sibling

a one-quarter partnership
in my establishment.

Make me a better offer.

A... a bidding war, over you?

Ha, don't make me laugh.

Careful, Martus.

He shaves the latinum.

I do not.

Not much.

Martus?

I've just received word the Vlugtan
government has accepted my bid.

Well, that's wonderful.

What's wrong?

They won't finalize
the transaction

until I commission a study on
the effects of asteroid mining

on inner-system navigation.

All my money is
committed to the bid.

I can't afford the study

and I only have
a week to get it done.

How much do you need?

10,000 isiks.

10,000 isiks?

It won't be easy to raise
that kind of money.

I know, I know.

I hope I can find
an investor in time.

I might know someone.

But what kind of return

can they expect
on their investment?

Well, once I began mining,
I'd pay back ten times 10,000.

Don't worry, Alsia.

I'll do everything in my power
to keep your dream alive.

Oh, Martus.

I don't know how to thank you.

Is there some problem, Rom?

Not with this batch,

but with my brother around
you can never be too careful.

You mean to say
he'd poison the canapés?

Maybe not poison,

but a small intestinal bug?

I wouldn't put it past him.

Oh, don't worry about Quark.

I've had the most astonishing
run of luck lately.

I'm beginning to think
I can do no wrong.

Neatness counts.

Never think it doesn't.

A toast...

to the Queen of the Promenade.

A woman whose business
acumen is matched

only by her beauty and charm.

Have I missed anything?

To you...

my treasure.

Are you as pleased as I am?

What do you think?

I think we make
quite a good team.

Perhaps we should consider

formalizing our relationship.

Are you proposing to me?

What do you think?

Oh, it's beautiful.

You deserve nothing less.

And these are wonderful.

Where did you find them?

I had them replicated

from a hand-held version
a friend gave me.

I've never seen
anything like them.

No one has.

All right. Is this everything
you'll need for the lab?

I think so.

I don't believe it.

Believe what?

I've had the computer looking
for this program for weeks.

It was buried somewhere
in the deep code level

right before
the Cardassians left.

Huh. How did
you find it?

I'm not sure.
It's more like it found me.

Just lucky, I guess.

I am so sorry.

What happened?

Well, you served.
I returned low.

- You slipped on the ball.
- I slipped on a ball?

Stepped right on it, mid-flight.
Never seen anything like it.

Easy now, let me check you out.

I'm fine. Serve.

Dr. Bashir,
report to the Infirmary.

I'm sorry, Chief.
I have to go.

I'll get you next time, okay?

Look, about that...

It's just that...
I guess I don't enjoy

this game as much as I used to.

I hope you don't mind.

I'm sure you'll find
another opponent.

Where is everybody?

My friendly competitor's place.

A listener.

So what?

So he listens.

I can listen.
I can listen as well as anyone.

- What happened?
- I fell down.

See? I'm listening.
Nothing to it.

How did you fall down?

Playing racquetball with Bashir.

Where?

At the court.
Where do you think?

What was the score?

- Who cares?
- I care. I'm listening.

Tell me your problems.
All of them.

I've got no problems
a good drop shot wouldn't cure.

He beat you.

Only by half a step, that's all.

He's got a few years
on me, so what?

I've got more experience.

The aging champion...

I've got spin shots
he's never seen.

...versus the
daring challenger.

So I had a few bad breaks, huh?

One more game,
that's all I needed.

Come one, come all...

I could have kicked him all over
the court and he knows it, too.

Welcome to Quark's.

Thanks.

Don't mention it.

Quark's House of Champions.

Damn!

Something wrong, Major?

- My terminal just self-destructed.
- What?

I lost an evaluation report
I've been working on for weeks.

Even the backups?

Even the backups.

Funny. I've been hearing a lot of
bad luck stories in the last few hours.

Doctor Bashir tells me the
Infirmary is full of minor accidents.

People slipping and falling

walking through turbolift doors

before they open --
that kind of thing.

Well, I've had a great day

so don't try sending
your misfortunes my way.

Come on, you make your own luck.

We all know that.

They all hit the
jackpot at once?

Is there any way I
can blame this on you?

I don't think so.

No, I suppose not.

All right.
Pay them all off.

Challenge of the Galaxy.

Match of the Century.

Wonder of the Wormhole.

House always takes blue.

If it's action you want,
you've come to the right place.

Excitement?
We've got it all.

Thrills and spills.
Victory and defeat.

Look no further,
we've got it all.

And here he is -- the reigning
champion of Starfleet --

a legend on both sides
of the wormhole.

Ladies and gentlemen,

Miles "The Mechanic" O'Brien.

What's this all about?

I got an emergency call.

Well, so did I
but I don't see any emergency.

And the challenger.

He's fast, he's deadly,
he's Julian Bashir.

They call him
"The Doctor."

The grudge match of the galaxy.

Get down here.

And all for a worthy cause.

Yes, these noble competitors
have insisted

that I donate half
the house's winnings

to the Bajoran Fund for Orphans.

Orphans?

The Mechanic versus The Doctor.

Tomorrow, 1200 hours.

Only one will emerge victorious,
so place your bets

and in the meantime,
the tables are open.

This is outrageous.

We haven't agreed to anything.

As your exclusive promoter,

I have the right
to arrange matches as I see fit.

Exclusive promoter?

Just sign here.

Forget it, Quark.

I understand how you feel,

but... think
of the children.

The monks have already
made a down payment

on new blankets for the winter.

Ah, well,
I'm sure the little ones

can huddle together for warmth.

Looks like you're going to get
that rematch after all.

I don't believe it.

The program I found --
it disappeared.

Have you checked
the deep code level?

No luck.

It's funny.

It's like the computer brought
that program up at random

and then just swallowed
it up again.

Major, you're all right.

Not even a sprain,
which is more than I can say

for everybody else
in the Infirmary.

Still crowded?

Yeah, and Doctor Bashir tells me
it's a whole new batch.

- More minor accidents?
- Dozens of them.

Could there be a connection
between the accidents

and the increase
in the system failures?

I didn't get hurt
by a system failure.

I tripped and fell.

Just coincidence, that's all.

There must be a logical
explanation for all this.

Maybe a virus or some kind
of spatial disruption.

It would have to be
something that would affect

both people and machinery.

Get on it.

I always had smaller lobes
than the rest of the boys.

They used to tease me about it.

Quark was the worst.

He told everyone I was adopted.

I just don't understand.
Things were going so well.

On my Naming Day,
Quark substituted

old vegetables for my presents.

Then he sold the presents for
more than our father had paid...

I couldn't care less
about your trivial childhood!

We've been virtually abandoned

and I want to know why.

A bad streak -- it happens.

Not to me, it doesn't.

I require the comfort
of a compassionate soul.

Don't think I didn't see
through you right from the start.

It's a joke. Really.

Well, in case you've forgotten,

I still hold the
lease on this place.

I want you out of here
by tomorrow

and take those
damn things with you.

But... but... but...

But, treasure.

Oh, I knew no good
would come of this.

I never should have left Quark.

What's going to happen now?

I'm not sure.

But I have an idea.

The profits from the club.

I believe it comes
to just about 10,000 isiks.

Oh, Martus, you don't know
what this means to me.

I know what it means to me --

ten times as much in return.

You won't regret this.

You'll see.
We'll both be rich.

You can beat his backhand.

Keep the ball low

and to his left.

Corner return on the serve.

Then kill shot left.

If he returns again

high back wall.

And remember...

Win or lose,
tonight we celebrate.

Miles, wait.

A silk handkerchief

medieval Japanese design...

scented with my perfume.

Kick his butt.

Doctor, I brought you something.

A token of thanks from the monks

to show you how
much they appreciate

your participation
in their little fund-raiser.

Oh, thanks.
Put it over there.

Um, aren't you going
to try some?

What is it?

The monks tell me
it's a medicinal brew --

an ancient secret
of their order.

It's supposed to impart
great energy and vigor.

Just the kind of thing to have
before an athletic competition.

But... you're
a man of science.

You probably don't believe
in folk medicine.

Actually, you'd be surprised
just how often traditional medicine

turns out to have genuine value.

Did they say
what was in this stuff?

They didn't exactly, but I'm
sure it's all completely natural.

Oh, the monks said you
should drink the whole thing

in one gulp in order to
get the proper effect.

Did they?

What are you doing?

Just curious about its contents.

Uh... what about
your exercises?

This won't take a second.

Oh, why bother?
Don't you trust the monks?

Ah, water, sucrose, dextrose,
tribnel root extract

grain particulates,
yeast, synthehol...

and 17 milligrams

of hyvroxilated
quint-ethyl metacetamine.

Like I said, all natural.

It's an anesthetic, Quark.

If I drank that,
I'd hardly be able to stand

let alone play racquetball.

You were trying to fix
the match, weren't you?

Would I do that?

If you had enough latinum bet
on Chief O'Brien, you would.

No one's betting
on Chief O'Brien.

All the money's on you.

If you win, there
won't be any profits.

And if there aren't any profits

I can't donate
anything to the monks.

No donations, no winter
blankets for the children.

But... if you lose

then the house would win

and the monks would
get their blankets.

Are you suggesting
that I throw the match?

- For the children.
- Forget it, Quark.

But the blankets...

Will be provided by you
one way or another.

And if the monks don't get
their blankets,

Chief O'Brien and I
will be very upset.

Do I make myself clear?

Perfectly.

Now, if you'll excuse me,
I have a match to play.

Kira said you've
found something.

Oh, I found
something, all right.

I just don't know what it means.

Look at this.

Solar neutrinos.

Notice anything unusual?

There are a lot of them?

The spin.

Given the laws of probability,
from any point of view

about half of them
should be spinning clockwise

and the other half
counterclockwise.

But over 80% of them
are spinning clockwise.

You're saying people
are having accidents

because of the way the
neutrinos are spinning?

No, but I think it's a symptom

of the same problem.

The neutrinos outside
the station are normal,

but inside the station

something very strange
is going on.

Have a good game, Julian.

You, too.

First point, O'Brien,
breaking the serve

and so it begins.

2-0, O'Brien.

Not a rousing start
for The Doctor.

Where is she?

- Who?
- Alsia.

She was supposed to meet me here
to tell me how the bid went.

I still don't think it's fair

you investing my
money without asking.

Your money?

You promised me
one-quarter of the profits,

but then you gave her
everything we earned.

I promised you one-quarter of
the profits after expenses.

Expenses?
What expenses?

Operating costs, overhead,
recapitalization.

Ooh, that does it.

Where are you going?

Back to Quark.

At least then
I'll get cheated by family.

Let's get out of here.

Ooh, another bad
break for Bashir.

9-3, O'Brien.

Quark, I'm cutting
the transmission.

What? You can't.

Watch me.

Ladies and gentlemen,

the players have called
a three-minute break.

Betting is reopened.

Three minutes,
three minutes only.

Why did you do that?

Something's wrong here.

With me, maybe

but you're having a great game.

Yeah, the best I've
played my entire life.

I'm making shots I couldn't
have made 15 years ago

when I was playing five
hours a day, every day.

I can't miss.

And I can't hit the broadside
of a Plygorian mammoth.

Try throwing the ball
against the wall.

It should have come
straight back to me.

You try.

O'Brien to Ops.

It goes right into his hand
every single time.

I must have done it
a dozen times by now

and I haven't missed yet.

Nobody could be that lucky.
It's impossible.

Not impossible,
just extremely improbable.

Improbable?

Like the neutrinos on the
station spinning the same way

or a few dozen people
having minor accidents

at the same instant

or a system failing
just at the wrong time.

Exactly.

Someone or something
on this station

is distorting the laws
of probability.

Changing them so
incredibly unlikely things

can happen on a regular basis.

How can we find out
what's causing it?

I think I know a way.

98% of the neutrinos
in this room

are rotating clockwise.

The games are open.

We're not here
to play. Dax?

100% clockwise.

It's these machines.

What, my gambling machines?

What's wrong with them?

Somehow, these machines
are altering

the laws of probability
all over the station.

So, that's what he meant.

Who?

The alien who gave me
the original.

He said it all came down
to luck.

That must be how it works.

When you win,
it makes you lucky.

When you lose...

But these machines are
affecting everyone on the station,

whether they're playing
them or not.

Impossible.
You must be mistaken.

Wait a minute.

You said there was
an original machine?

Yes, a smaller one.

When I opened the club,
I replicated these larger ver...

Larger versions.

So, how do you turn them off?

I'm not completely sure.

Then how did you turn them
on in the first place?

I didn't... exactly.

I just told the replicator

to scan the original
and make copies.

I think they have some kind
of internal power source.

Lieutenant.

Wait, wait, wait!
What are you doing?

Now, as for you...

You can't possibly blame me
for this, Commander.

Oh, I'd like to.

Unfortunately, I don't have
anything I can charge you with.

Fortunately, I do.

That elderly Pythron
couple you "assisted"

has had a change of heart.

They've decided to
press charges after all.

Alsia!

I knew you'd come to get me out.

Inside.

What's the meaning of this?

Ask him.

Your lady friend here
just tried to scam me.

Scam?

Asteroid mining.

To think anyone
would be foolish enough

to be taken in
by that old trick.

But don't worry, Martus,
I've come to get you out.

In return for what?

Nothing.
Pure generosity.

Huh!

You're enjoying this,
aren't you?

Oh, taken in by one
of your own victims

and no one to turn to but me?

I can't remember when
I've been so entertained.

I'm glad
you're enjoying yourself.

Now, how about
giving me 2,000 isiks

to book passage out of here?

You want me to give you money?

Ridiculous.

Of all the ungrateful arrogance.

Unless you want me
to stay here on the station.

All right.

I'll loan you 500 isiks.

You can book passage
on a cargo ship.

1,500. After all,
I do have expenses.

600.

1,200.
I still have my dignity.

Dignity and an empty sack
is worth the sack --

Rule of Acquisition Number 109.

All right.

800.

Go on.

I'm listening.