|
((USS Excalibur – Deck 6 – Brek's Quarters))
::Because he had been affected by his latest hallucination, Brek had taken refuge in his office, where he had launched into a long monologue about his day so far. About ten minutes into his discourse, he had fetched himself a packet of biscuits, and from then on he had spoken and eaten at the same time, rendering most of his words incomprehensible.::
::Well except for those moments where he enjoyed an insight. Then he stopped all mastication and pondered on the idea he had uncovered.::
Brek: ::Glancing at Vreeya's picture.:: It's like Cross told me. She is a Marine by the way. But not the type that's built like a tank, just a normal Terran. Anyway, she says to me, the best way to make friends it's to find something they would like to have, and give it to them. I know... the act of giving is a scary concept. But, as I found out on sb118, it's considerably easier to give other people's property away. Like StarFleet goods for instance. Do you follow me?
::For all its lack of expression, at that moment the portrait looked a bit bored, but Brek soldiered on.::
Brek: The problem is that those aliens, they are isolationists. They're only interested in what they've already got. Anything else, it seems to scare them. So what am I supposed to do?
::The Ferengi sighed and crammed another biscuit into his mouth. He knew that the Captain would expect results, (or in ferengi-speak 'miracles'), but right now, he felt like he had already played all his cards.::
Brek: In other words, I'm in a jam... a very inedible jam...
::Someone called at his door. Recognizing the way his aide liked to use the buzzer, Brek told him to 'entrez', (Dakarai-speak for 'come in'). The black man looked a bit on edge, and, without saying anything, he took a seat.::
Brek:::Puzzled.:: What's the matter?
Dakarai: ::In a low voice.:: I heard you speaking. I don't want to interrupt anything.
Brek: ::Waving Dakarai's concern away.:: I wasn't talking. It was a monologue.
Dakarai: A... monologue, Chef?
Brek: oO Yeah. Don't be so smug. That's what lonely people do. Oo I was debating an important question with myself. That's an old Ferengi habit. It's also a great way to make new neurones connections in the brain. Makes you think clearer.
::Of course Dakarai stared at him as if he was mad, and that was followed by a couple of minutes where they both remained silent.::
Brek: ::Meeting Dakarai's eyes.:: So, you came here just to gawk at me?
Dakarai: ::With a silly little smile.:: Non, of course. I wanted to know how your first contact went. Everyone's talking about it, here. Wondering how you performed.
Brek: oO Jeeze, thank you beaucoup [a lot]. No pressure on the little beetle... Oo I'd say the meeting was what you Terrans call a qualified success. The High Chief Merchant told us that, by rescuing her, we had made a friend in her, but she couldn't wait to get away from us. It felt like we had the Agurtha plague or something...
Dakarai: But you left a long lasting impression, and she will want to speak to you again, n'est-ce pas? [won't she]
::It was one of those moments where Brek could have whimpered, so he kept his mouth resolutely shut. What could he say anyway? The discomfiture was total. He had nothing that those aliens would want.::
Dakarai: I see... We didn't do so well then. So, what happens next?
Brek: We wait. Until science finds something we can sell to them. In the meantime, if you say a word to the others about this first contact meeting, you can kiss your career goodbye. And you'd better go now, because I haven't finished talking to myself yet.
::His aide promptly left, and Brek looked at the ceiling, trying to remember where he had left his monologue...::
tag/tbc
Lt. Cmdr. Brek
Chief Diplomatic Officer/2O
USS Excalibur A
|