Pep Talk
Posted on 16 May 2023 @ 6:43am by Brek - Timeless Treasures Art Gallery
Mission:
M3 - Into the Deep
Location: Affluenza (Ferengi Cruiser) - Ferengi Space (Volchok)
Timeline: Backstory: Spring 2379
1816 words - 3.6 OF Standard Post Measure
If it was possible to fall in love with a place, it was happening to Brek right now. He had never seen such luxurious quarters, not even in pictures. Every room was spacious and decorated in a way that looked both old and ancient. The most efficient technology was present in every room, whilst the walls were covered with tiny tiles, arranged in such a way that they represented shellfish, birds and trees. It gave the impression the rooms had been decorated by an ancient civilization.
He took a quick shower, which transformed the swamp thing that he had become, back into a proper sentient being. There were fresh Ferengi clothes waiting for him in the bedroom and after a long hesitation, he selected a pale grey and yellow suit looking expensive, and yet sober. He then spent 20 minutes observing himself in a round mirror, wishing that he wouldn’t recognise himself. Alas he did. He tried to smile, but he realised that with that uncertain smile on his face, his gaze didn’t look particularly intelligent.
“Yep...” He mumbled to himself. “I look like I spent the month doing sod all and now I wonder why my pile of latinum is so terribly small... Well, at least my ears are fine. Anywayz... Time to meet granny again and see what more I can get out of her!”
The old woman, who had been resting, once again, in the chaise-longue that probably had her name on it, got up and walked to him. As before, she was wearing a long blue dress with a yellow waistcoat. Shiny clothes that begged for attention, unlike Brek’s lacklustre selection.
“Hmmm...” Ara said, pouting. “Turn around.” He did so, and was rewarded with this comment: “You look like a little rodent on a secret mission in an abandoned sewer. Don’t you have any personality to show, little beetle? Must you always look like a nobody? By all that is precious, where is your pride?!”
“I feel comfortable in those clothes.” Brek replied. “They are discrete, soft, and they fit me perfectly.”
“Tsst... The shame you bring on me. You even sound like a peasant. You have to understand, Brek that if you don’t look vibrant, your life won’t be vibrant either..” She tapped a commbadge on her shoulder and informed someone called Zeer that the food may now be served.
“You know, little beetle,” Ara went on, inviting Brek to follow her to a table near the room’s large windows. “You need to be more assertive. There are only three paths in life, and that is true for every species, not just us Ferengi. You can either be exploited; be the slave of your conscience,” she sighed. “I can’t understand how anyone can be so dumb as to serve their inner voice. Or you can succeed and spend the rest of life fighting the jealousy of those who are beneath you. Obviously this last choice is what we Ferengi must strive for. Absolute selfishness is the Golden Path. Are you even listening to me?”
Brek had been looking at the large windows, where Volchok’s spaceport was now visible. You could see shuttles coming and going, bringing goods, passengers and new problems. From his new sanctuary, it all looked insignificant. As if the planet was populated by tiny insects. To get a real scope on life and all its wonders, you had to be on a ship, travelling between worlds. Wouldn’t that be a grand way to spend time?
“For sure I am,” He said with a little smile. The one that made him look none too bright. Who else would he listen to, in a room where granny was the only presence? “All the same, you are at the moment, taking care of me... How is that selfish? Some would venture to say you’re being kind.”
Granny gave him her best basilisk stare. “I have never been kind in my life. I know what to take, where to find it, and what’s the best moment to grab what I seek. In your case, little beetle, you represent my future. The hmmm... assistance I provide to you know, I will reap in a few years.”
“So, you are, essentially, banking on the notion that in the future, I’ll repay you for your present intervention. What if, in true Ferengi style, I don’t? It would be my right, when I’m well established, to simply ignore you.”
Ara smiled. Not a pleasant sight. “In the same way that I have never been kind. No one has ever ignored me. It is normal, at your age, Brek, to feel clever. I can assure you, it is only an illusion.”
The food was served at that moment, and Brek, who had expected snail steaks or something equally banal, was in for another shock. Although strictly Ferengi, the meals were numerous, varied, and splendid. Among his favourites, there were large bowls filled with spicy crispy grasshoppers, fried Odonata, complete with their long and delicate wings, plus an assortment of roasted cicadas. Zeer, a quiet Hupyrian, also brought a bottle of tube grub brandy. He poured two drinks in delicate glasses decorated with flower patterns. Then, his job done, he disappeared, more silent than a ghost.
“Please, eat as much as you like,” Ara resumed. “You will need to put on some weight in order to look important. At the moment you look like... nothing.” She then took her glass. “I hope I’m not corrupting you with this brandy. You have sampled alcohol before, right?”
“I’m 18, not 12,” Brek said. “Besides, who cares about corruption? The whole universe is crooked. I’m surprised you haven’t mentioned it. Even Fleeters can’t be trusted.”
“First wise words I’ve heard you say. Here, try the cicadas, they are packed with proteins.” She pushed the bowl towards him and Brek took a handful. “Life’s so full of great opportunities, there are times I can’t even trust myself. I sensed reproach in your words, though. You sound as if you don’t like this state of affairs. But look around you. Observe the lavish lifestyle of those who have amassed a fortune. You will find art collections, sumptuous villas, and refined foods. We, who have succeeded, have the best of everything. How, then, can corruption and greed be bad when it allows us to live so well?”
She looked curious as to what he would say, which encouraged Brek to speak up his mind. “What about those people who have an urge to excel in science, medicine or the discovery of new technologies? All those things are essential, and they require hard work.”
“Hard work. Don’t make me laugh, Brek. Long hours are for other species. We are meant to live fast. This said, at times it can be wise to finance those bright minds."
They were both silent for a couple of minutes, during which they ate a fair share of insects.
“Of course,” Ara resumed, “You are no stranger to long hours, little beetle - which you are apparently happy to give to Asax. Is that why you are sulking?”
“I’m not sulking.” Brek lied. Something that granny had told him earlier on was bothering him; for it was something that could destroy his life more surely than a polaron torpedo.
“You are not lively either. So, what are your plans for Volchock? Do you want to take over Asax’s business? It would not be too difficult. Your boss may be considered like royalty on this planet, but out there, in space, he is a nobody, like 99% of the population. If you want him out of the picture, it could be done by the end of the week.”
Was it really within the realm of possibilities to get rid of Asax? Brek took a sip of brandy, and then another one. Anytime he found himself with a glass in his hand, he got the impression that in order to be an adult, all you had to do was drink. Let the poison set your brain on fire, burn your stomach, and live on a little cloud where nothing could affect you.
“I have no definitive plans for Volchok,” he finally said. “I just want to enjoy life.”
“You are telling me that your life on that pathetic planet is ‘enjoyable’? Nonsense! Be bold, be loud and be free, little beetle. That’s the surest way to riches!” Ara frowned. “What you are doing at the moment, I cannot understand it.”
“There is nothing to understand. It is my life and it belongs to me. Besides, can you imagine what things would be like if you sent me back to Volchok and announced to everyone that we are related? Brek: grandson of a wealthy female? What little reputation I have would be ruined. It might also alert the FCA as to how you managed to amass so much wealth.”
The silence that followed was heavy. In it there were millennia of gender deprecation. Latium owned by males was splendid. The same gold bars owned by a female were an aberration. It couldn't be. Had to be stopped, and reclaimed even.
How quick and easy would it be to get his hands on granny's wealth?
"All right, you made your point," Ara finally said. "Transparency isn't something that my gender can afford. We have to rely on subterfuge. Thankfully I have a long experience in this field. You won’t escape my attention though. I have already made a few arrangements and you will now live in an apartment above the market place. You can always pretend that your change of life is due to interesting investments that came to fruition.”
“I guess there is value in being cryptic,” Brek said, now playing with his food rather than eating it. “What’s the rush though? Maybe I could stay on your ship for a few days and enjoy your company?”
She looked at him suspiciously. “18 is not the age to be lazy, Brek. You will return to your life tomorrow morning. You chose it, after all.”
“Yeah, but maybe now I prefer life on your ship.” Brek said with a big smile. “You’ve got everything a Ferengi could want. From here I could learn more about my family and also those things that Ferengi are supposed to do.”
Ara sighed and then got up. “I have heard that sort of word before. Younglings are always the same: they all want a free ride. How disappointing. I expected more from you. Enjoy the view, little beetle. Unlike you, I've got a busy day.”
