The Most Logical Solution
Posted on 16 Nov 2022 @ 8:18am by Lieutenant Commander Sikan & Brek - Timeless Treasures Art Gallery
Mission:
M3 - Into the Deep
Location: OC - Environment Ring
Timeline: MD06 - 1520HRS
1731 words - 3.5 OF Standard Post Measure
Brek was on his second exploration of the Station, and in order to memorize the many locations found on Obsidian Command, he was referring constantly to his old and trusted Ferengi PADD. He had now reached the Environment Ring and he was staggered to discover such a wide area dedicated to nature, sport and art (the place even had an amphitheater). This zone was too wide to explore right now, but it brought joy to his little Ferengi heart. If by any chance, there weren’t too many cameras in the nature trail, he may be able to conduct business over there, well away from prying eyes. It wasn’t that he intended to do anything illegal. He viewed this as a safety measure, because too often, Fleeters liked to pin things on his species. You would think that the whole space community was convinced that the raison d’être of his people was to lie and cheat. Due to this, he had discovered, it was best not to be seen at all.
As he left the Environment Ring, the Ferengi made plans to take up a new hobby: that of a jogger. It would be good for his health, and his business too. He ordered the right type of attire for this activity, and consulted a few articles on the topic of running, paying no attention to where exactly he was going. So it was a great shock to him to discover, when he finally looked up from his PADD, that he had ventured right by the Security Department.
There were a few people milling about and, for fear of looking suspicious, Brek entered Security. Why not? He was irreproachable. The place was well staffed, to the point of being intimidating, and Brek felt completely out of place. He located a high ranking Vulcan (you can’t fool those, but they have the ‘patience of a saint’ as Hewmons say) and he decided to introduce himself.
“Ah, Commander! I know I’m out of place here.” Brek started with all the confidence he could muster. “However, there is a great possibility that you may be able to help me.” On reflection, this phrase made little sense, but it was too late, it had been said and for good measure Brek tried to smile. “My name is Brek. I run a gallery on the Promenade.”
Sikan had returned to main security just a few moments before, observing how things were run. They were, by and large, professional and careful. Already there were certain things that he anticipated changing or adjusting to suit his requirements, but those changes would need to be made carefully, in time. He had discovered through his years in Starfleet that most non-Vulcans resisted and even resented large changes implemented quickly, no matter how logical the changes might be.
He’d spotted Brek approaching, PADD in hand, looking around as he entered. The Ferengi didn’t look like he had a crime to report as he introduced himself, though the short Ferengi seemed to almost be humming with energy. “I am Lieutenant Commander Sikan,” the Vulcan replied with the slightest of nods. “How can I be of assistance?”
The answer to his question was so direct and efficient that Brek felt a need to be equally forthright, albeit with a little measure of hesitation. “Well, I was wondering... You see, we on the Promenade, have been kept in the dark as to the situation on Obsidian Command. What with the yellow alert and all the security precautions that have been taken. It is not good for business, as I feel sure it will deter people from paying a visit to our splendid Station. So, would it be possible to have some sort of hmm... information exchange between your department and the civilian population?”
Sikan paused as he listened to Brek’s suggestion. What he’d initially assumed to be a civilian coming to security to ask for directions or some other simple thing had instead changed into a much more complicated conversation. “I see.” Sikan considered that for a beat, and glanced at the Ferengi. “Perhaps this is a discussion better carried on in my office.” He gestured towards his office and led the way. As they walked, Sikan asked, “What is the name of your gallery, Mr. Brek?”
Brek followed the Commander, eager to close a deal on the topic he had raised. “It’s called ‘Timeless Treasure’, and it’s been open for a couple of hours only. It’s no time at all really. But the way things are on O.C. at the moment, I’m not sure I’ll get a lot of buying signals or opportunities for emotional sales. In other words, there is less room for FAB. That’s Features, Advantages, and Benefits and more NSA: Non-sales-related activities. Do you happen to have an interest in art, Cmdr Sikan?”
“I consider myself more of a casual appreciator than anything else,” Sikan replied, his mind still idly pondering over the new acronyms that Brek had just introduced him to. “I recognize the beauty in art, though I confess any true knowledge I possess begins and ends with the Vulcan masters I was taught in my youth.” The door to his office slid aside, and Sikan led the way in, gesturing at the visitor’s chair for Brek. “Please.” He sat down at his desk, looking at the Ferengi. “If I understand your request correctly, you would like to establish some liaison between my office and the civilian sector. Something that will keep people informed of the situation on the station, to allay their concerns. Am I correct?”
Before he took the offered chair, Brek looked around the Cmdr’s office. It was too austere for his liking, and yet it remained stylish. The simplest and fewest elements had been used to create the maximum effect. “You are correct. I feel that if we, civilians, were better informed, we could make better decisions about our businesses. This, in turn, would increase our profits. So a liaison is exactly what we need. Obviously, in that role we would need someone trustworthy. So, as outgoing as I am, I...er... may not fit the required profile. It would be up to us civilians to elect someone in that role. Would your office, Cmdr, accept to work with a civilian liaison?”
“This matter has been in some discussion already,” Sikan replied. “Earlier today I was discussing this very topic with deputies representing the Marshals’ Service. It is our opinion that a civilian liaison would be a prudent course of action. Living on a Starfleet installation is very different from living on a starship. Civilians on a starship have certain expectations. They have a very close connection to Starfleet. That is not always true of civilians on a Starbase. I agree it behooves us to form a closer connection with civilians in matters of urgent situations.” Sikan looked at Brek. “I perceive you have some fleet experience, Mr. Brek. With Starfleet, or with the Ferengi Alliance?”
Brek nodded his head several times, for Sikan’s words were music to his ears, and it felt good to know that on O.C. the civilian population mattered. “I have indeed worn the Starfleet uniform. I used to be with the Diplomatic Corps, and then I decided to explore my Ferengi heritage. I want to say a word about my people, though. Ferenginar hardly has a Fleet. The Alliance is rather like a loose group of entrepreneurs, working under the vague umbrella of the Alliance. Beyond the constant making of profit there is no clear direction to follow. Not the way we find in Starfleet. This said, when you meet a Ferengi Marauder, there is no mistaking its affiliation... Anyway, regardless of who I was in my past life, for sure I would grab this position with both hands. But I feel that it should be up to the civilian population to vote for their liaison.”
“I agree,” Sikan said. “An election would be the most logical solution to the problem.” He considered the Ferengi sitting across from him for a moment. “Until that time, my office will prepare a statement regarding the current situation, whatever non-sensitive information that can be shared to allay the concerns of our civilian population. Do you believe that would be an acceptable compromise?”
“That would be most excellent, yes. As I prepare my campaign for this election, I’ll let the civilians know that they can look forward to a statement from your office, Cmdr.” Brek said, entirely satisfied with this arrangement. For it wasn’t always easy to obtain something from the Security Department. “Well, now that I have achieved my purpose, I had better return to my own pursuits. I also need to prepare for the grand opening of my art gallery. I need to contact several restaurant owners and send many invitations. There will be one for you, too Cmdr Sikan. Art is good for the spirit.”
Sikan gave a short nod. Now he knew, at least, that Brek would be putting himself up for election. He seemed like he was earnest enough in his intentions for the civilian community here. But it never hurt to know more, and Sikan decided it to take a look at Brek’s service history, just to know a little more, if they were going to be working together even in a semi-official capacity. “I will accept the invitation with great appreciation, Mr. Brek,” Sikan replied, standing to accompany the Ferengi out. “I always appreciate the opportunity to expand my horizons. I am sure we will have much to discuss in the future.”
Brek left Sikan’s office feeling well pleased with what he had achieved. Although somehow, through force of habit maybe, he sensed a little note of dissuasion in the Vulcan’s words. Who wanted, indeed, to have frequent words with a Chief of Security?
Not me, the Ferengi reflected. But aloud, he said: “I like your stance, Cmdr. I think it is our Terran friends who say that ‘Our greatness is measured by our horizons’. Well, off I go. It’s been a pleasure to meet you, and I look forward to seeing you again in ‘Timeless Treasure’.”
