Going The Extra Mile
Posted on 06 Aug 2023 @ 6:40am by Brek - Timeless Treasures Art Gallery
Edited on on 06 Feb 2024 @ 10:20pm
Mission:
M3 - Into the Deep
Location: O.C. Station - Habitat Ring B - Civilian Quarters
Timeline: MD14 - 1100
1449 words - 2.9 OF Standard Post Measure
Brek observed his handiwork, and doubt made him scratch his head. Had he done things right? In preparation for the imminent arrival of his grandmother and that of artist Kreca, he had secured two quarters, side by side. He had also done his absolute best to decorate the rooms in grand Ferengi style, to make the two women feel at home. The result of all those efforts were brightly lit rooms with orange and white walls, green furniture, floral cushions about everywhere, and here and there, reproduction of famous Ferengi paintings: genteel meadows (which in Ferengi style translated as intense patches of colours) and lavish banquets (showing expansive food, untouched, and no people at the tables). It breathed luxury, and as such it should be perfect, yet he wasn’t entirely satisfied.
“What do you reckon?” Brek asked Glutik, his Tellarite bodyguard. “Does it look pleasant enough?” He had brought him along just to have someone to talk to. On O.C. there had been, so far, no need for him to have protection. However, on occasions, he liked to have the Tellarite around. Not all his ideas were stupid.
Glutik, a giant in the room, shrugged. “I don’t know. Is all of this supposed to represent a feminine touch? If this is so, I’m not sure you have it, Brek.”
“I put flowers on the cushions.”
“Don’t I know it. It took you nearly 45 minutes to design them. But there is something not quite right... I’m not sure how to describe it... It’s... Something is lacking.”
“A bouquet of flowers?” Brek suggested. “I had in mind to have one. Large yellow flowers from Ferenginar, very fragrant. And of course, I’ll place a refined gift in both quarters, to make those guests welcome. I want things to be absolutely perfect.”
Glutik looked around him, hummed, but said nothing.
“Oh, come off it, say what you have to say!” Brek added, impatient. “What’s wrong with my design?”
“Everything?”
Brek’s lips twitched. Still, as tempted as he was to dispute this verdict, he said, quietly: “Go on, enlighten me.”
“All that you have done in those rooms, it’s too loud. A good design, it should look effortless, but here, what we see is that you spent a lot of time in those rooms but you didn’t enjoy yourself, and it shows. Nothing is subtle. The colours are too bright, the lines around the doors and window too thick. The cushions don’t need to look like giant slugs either. But the general ideas are good,” Glutik quickly added, noticing that the Ferengi was sulking. “Besides there is one easy way to make things right: use the computer to redesign those rooms, with your directions.”
“What about my personal touch then?” Brek hissed. “I wanted those rooms to be unique.”
Glutik shrugged once more. “You know what they say: too much of a good thing will ruin it. Besides, why do you want to greet your grandmother in such a grand way? I thought you hated her. Or is it that you have something special to ask her?”
“I’m not that dumb,” Brek countered. “Anytime you ask something to a Ferengi, they make you pay for it, more so when they are your own relatives. It’s a tradition. So it’s always better to help someone, and define the price of that assistance, rather than to be the one who is helped.”
“Looks like you’re helping your gran against her will then,” the Tellarite concluded. “Could be, she would rather be received with a kick in the backside than with all this Starfleet luxury. She will see your efforts for what they are.”
Brek snorted. Ara was wealthy and this left him no choice: He had to win her over and keep his name at the top of her will. She expected him to behave that way. If he didn’t play that game, she would become even more troublesome than she already was. “I know Ara. She will refuse to admit it, but she will be flattered by my attention.” He sighed. “Let’s see what the computer can do with my colour scheme.”
Thirty minutes later the rooms looked hugely different. Subtlety had been brought to the fore, with gentle lines, nicer colours and cushions that looked like, well, normal cushions.
“Wow. That’s more like it,” Glutik said. “I would still refuse to live in such a place, though. It’s got an old cottage vibe to it, if you know what I mean. The sort of place where you abandon little old ladies to their teas, so that they give you some peace. Have you noticed the smell too? An evergreen woodsy, sort of fragrance. It will be perfect for the old hag.”
“Hey!” Brek protested. “Show respect to my elder. Don’t go ruin all my efforts with your big mouth.” He tried the light green sofa, covered with little orange and red cushions and found it comfortable. He then went to examine the faux fireplace behind two armchairs. An odd item, designed in black and white. It looked out of place, and yet somehow it also fit. A weird curio, likely to be the centre of quiet conversations in the evening. If Ara was capable of enjoying such things. Knowing her, she would probably begrudge the thing, but at least it would keep her mind off vexing topics.
“I guess our job is done, now?” Glutik enquired.
“Why? Do you have some special place you need to go to?”
“Far from it, boss, my time is yours,” Glutik added, repressing a sigh. “So what’s next? You select delicate gifts?”
“Exactly. But I know what to get. For Ara it will be a portrait of me, in a fancy frame. There will also be a little necklace with her name on it. The kind of stuff that shines nicely. As for Kreca, that’s easy: tubes of colours and brushes. All we’ve got to do now is buy the stuff - not without negotiating the price first, of course.”
“Yep, great plan.” Glutik said, showing an impressive level of control. This pleased Brek no end, as it showed the power of latinum: A few bars of the stuff can easily tame a Tellarite.
Brek glanced at his towering friend, who dressed as he was in dark leather - or what passes for it these days - looked quite impressive. “You know,” he began, “you’ve changed a lot since we first met. I’m even surprised at the comments you make on art and design at times. It looks like my company has improved your character tremendously.”
Glutik grunted, in those early days, he had been a boorish freighter pilot who had been sick and tired of a life spent travelling between stations. In that sense, Brek had rescued him from an unpleasant life, by offering him a job as a cultural attaché. An undemanding position with unrestricted access to good food. But back then the Ferengi usually called him ‘caveman’. The thing with Ferengi is that they speak with their latinum. This is their one and only power, and they will abuse it. Still, Brek knew a lot of interesting people, and it is them who had made his education. How very unfortunate though that the Ferengi had to throw his career within Starfleet away. The food had not been the same since.
“As you used to say back then, Brek, learning stuff is importanter than eating or gambling.” Glutik said with a grin. In those early days, his English had been less than fluent.
“Importanter, as in more important,” Brek said, missing the reference to the ‘good old times', as they entered a gift shop. For some reason, the owner of that shop thought that pink was a must-have colour. Both men shuddered a bit when they saw that. There was also an odd smell in the air. Red berries, completely artificial. Fake happiness. The sort of fragrance you can find in those odd Terran funfairs, where people pay for torturous rides where they will scream at the top of their lungs for a whole afternoon.
“Are we in the right place?” Glutik asked, baffled. There was, by their side, a stack of plush toys that looked like horses, but they were rainbow-coloured and there was a horn on their heads.
“For unusual and sparkling jewellery? Definitely!” Brek replied, all business. “They’ve got handmade stuff here that costs quite a bit. Let’s have a look at those beauties...”
