Cast Away
Posted on 08 Jul 2023 @ 7:40am by Brek - Timeless Treasures Art Gallery
Edited on on 06 Feb 2024 @ 10:38pm
Mission:
M3 - Into the Deep
Location: Ferengi Space (Volchok)
Timeline: Backstory: Spring 2380
1522 words - 3 OF Standard Post Measure
The Paragon (of greed, as it was pencilled on the hull, in light grey letters), stood aside a row of other splendid shuttles owned by Mr Asax. All of them glared like giant immobile birds under the unforgiving sun. Brek could have taken shelter inside, but it was something he couldn’t bear doing. At least while he remained near the launch pads, he still belonged to Volchok’s trading centre.
The Paragon, then, awaited Brek and Desha (Asax’s daughter) for their departure to a forgotten land. A land of doom and gloom. A land of absolute and abject oblivion. There, for three months, Brek and that loudmouth called Desha would have to survive in complete exile, on a gigantic insect farm called Happy Trail. It should rather be named ‘The End of Everything’ Brek reflected, for it felt like his social life had been torpedoed.
Thankfully stupid Desha was late , giving Brek the opportunity to have a few words with Oroff - dutiful servant of Mr Asax - who had been despatched to the private spaceport to ensure that the two young Ferengi had all that they needed for their expedition. As usual the old Bolian waited there patiently, his hands clasped behind his back. The very image of quiet servitude. How was it possible to remain so patient all the time? Brek found this infuriating, and since his own life was taking such a bad turn, he wanted to kick the old Bolian. Make him feel as sorry as he was and force his old friend to be spontaneous for a change.
“Say, Oroff,” Brek started, unable to keep in place, he was pacing the area in front of their shuttle. Every now and again, he fanned his face with a green hand-held fan, shaped like a leaf. “Why am I being sent into exile? I’ve done everything that Mr Asax wanted. I don’t deserve to be cast away like that.”
“Your ‘Everything’, is, I believe, an exaggeration, young master Brek,” Oroff said, as still as a blue and black statue. Despite the persistent heat, he was wearing one of his usual ‘uniforms’ made of a thick dark fabric. This was probably a way to show that nothing in the universe could affect him. Not even a long heatwave that was driving everyone insane.
Incensed, Brek stopped right in front of the giant Bolian.“What? What have I done wrong? I haven’t had a minute of spare time in weeks, just as Mr Asax wanted.”
Oroff looked at him with benevolence, but it was increasingly evident that, before being Brek’s friend, the Bolian was completely loyal to Mr Asax. “Did he request that you take additional employment among the Terrans and Bajorans living on our planet?”
Brek resumed his pacing. Sure the heat was affecting him, despite the light linen shirt that he was wearing - but anger was having a bigger effect on his nerves. “Is this why I’m being punished?”
“This is not punishment, master Brek. Mr Asax is simply using you, or as he might say, he needs you and, from what I've heard, he is paying a handsome price for your services.”
“Latinum isn’t everything!”
“Really? Since when?”
With words like that, one would have expected to see mockery in the Bolian’s eyes, but he was as neutral and placid as ever.
“You know what I mean. I shouldn’t be facing three months alone, on an automatic farm. How am I going to survive, all alone?”
“Only, you won’t be alone, will you? Also, from what I understand, you willingly accepted the inflated wage that Mr Asax offered you. You could have turned him down.”
“So that he could then give all that money to someone else?” Brek fanned himself madly. “And of course, how dare I forget that I’m going to ‘Happy Trail Farm’ with the most conceited brat this side of the galaxy? We’ll both be dead within a fortnight - if that - having killed each other.”
“How dramatic. You shouldn’t be so harsh with Miss Desha, though. She is only 14. She will need your guidance, and protection. I suggest you let her have the best accommodation available on the farm. Make sure too that she doesn’t have any accidents over there. You are after all Happy Trail’s new manager now.”
“Don’t make me laugh...”
There was a loud sigh behind them and both men, tall and short, turned round as one. Desha was in front of them, with - shocking - only one large suitcase, and judging by her stare, plenty of venom. Then again, Brek had just given her ample reason to be spiteful.
“I need the recommendations of this nasty bookkeeper like I need a wart on my backside,” Desha retaliated. “And of course I’ll have the best rooms on that farm. For all I care, the bookkeeper can sleep outside, like the beast he is. So, are we going or what? What’s the point of staying like that in the open sun like stupid insects?”
“We were waiting for you, obviously.” Brek countered, still fanning himself, only now he was doing so rather nervously. Desha was wearing a long blue dress with white flowers on it, which didn’t look half bad. “For your information...”
“Children,” Oroff interrupted him, his voice louder, with a note of condescension. “You need to behave. Now, Miss Desha, let me put your suitcase inside the shuttle.”
He did so with a little struggle, a sure sign that the girl’s suitcase was quite heavy. Brek found this reassuring. He wanted Desha to stay as she was. A vapid and vile teen whom he needed to avoid at all cost. This is why he sneered at her when she gave him a nasty glance before she followed her precious suitcase.
Brek, for his part, as stubborn as he was, didn’t move. He wanted a final word with Oroff. On his return, however, for the first time ever, the Bolian showed some impatience.
“Master Brek, you should go now. The shuttle has been programmed to take the two of you safely to Happy Trail Farm. You will reach your destination in one hour. You are going to see a few fantastic views along your journey, and there is a fine selection of snacks and drinks in the shuttle. You will feel like a VIP.”
“Fine, I’ll go. Just answer this last question: Who are those important people that Mr Asax is receiving and why does he need to protect Desha from them?”
“Old business partners,” Oroff began in a whisper, “are the more difficult to ward off. They often cite the good old times as an excuse to make demands. Mr Asax is about to receive such friends from his childhood. One of them, sadly the most powerful in the group, has always shown a great interest for young Desha. This is why her father is sending her away. You will ask, why you? You are a youngling yourself, and as Desha keeps repeating, beyond the world of numbers, you are not very experienced, having just left school yourself.”
“I had not realised that this is also how you see me, Oroff.” Brek remarqued, a little disappointed.
“You keep asking questions, young master. Not all answers are pleasant. Still, to resume my explanation. The reason why you were selected to take care of Desha is that - I warn you - you may not like the sound of what I’m going to say - as far as we know, you are the only honest Ferengi on the planet. You can be trusted.”
Those words, barely audible, resounded in Brek’s large brain like a furious bee. An honest Ferengi who could be trusted. For any son of Ferenginar, this was an abominable description. It meant that you could be used and abused. It also marked you as a useless businessman. One doomed to ensure the success of others whilst condemning yourself to repeated failures.
“Do not worry, master Brek,” Oroff added softly when he saw that Brek was properly horrified. “Those words I said will never be repeated aloud. They are our secret. You should go now.”
Brek shook his head, but he nonetheless walked toward the Paragon shuttle. “Calling me a loser is unfair. I haven’t had the time to grow yet. But I will. Give me a few years, and then we will see who dares use such words against me.”
Oroff gave him a little smile which remained cryptic to Brek. Was the Bolian mocking him? Was he feeling sorry for him? Or was there some sort of solicitude in that smile?
When the young Ferengi entered the shuttle, Desha had made sure to use the few seats available with her feet and her clothes, forcing him to go to the cockpit. So much the better. From there he would get a better view of the landscapes below.
