First Thoughts on Starfleet
Posted on 25 Jan 2024 @ 7:10am by Brek - Timeless Treasures Art Gallery
Edited on on 06 Feb 2024 @ 10:06pm
Mission:
M4 - Falling Out
Location: Alpha Quadrant - FenixCorps Mining Operation
Timeline: Backstory: Autumn 2380
1320 words - 2.6 OF Standard Post Measure
In the cell that served as his office Brek had finished playing with numbers and he was now doing the same thing with words. Mrs Wilander had been kind enough to give him a file about the Federation, its academy and what non-Federation citizens needed to do to get their mug over there. There were a lot of things he would have to do, and he was beginning to question the ‘kindness’ that Wilander had deployed. What if, instead of helping him, she was doing her best to kill his spirit?
Frankly, take request number one: obtain an endorsement from a command-level officer. Where would he find such a specimen? Can this rarefied species even be bribed?
Request number 2: Pass rigorous physical, mental, and ethical examinations. Sure you can conquer laziness and train for physical and mental, but ethical? You would have to change your actual personality. Pretend to be what you are not. How did Nog do that? Is there a course you can take that teaches you to lie constantly, like pretending you are never interested in making profits? He might as well become a politician instead.
Request number 3: Academic skills, where he would have to excel in various fields, such as history, science, diplomacy, and leadership. Fine, but surely you only had to shine in one field?
He would also have to challenge any sexist societal beliefs. No problem there, he would get good points. As young as he was, he had already met several powerful women, and although they all had a despicable personality, it didn't bother him too much. Those women were his grandmother, wealthy, and so, because of that, very precious. Desha, the daughter of his previous boss. Horrible female she was, and with a bit of luck he would never meet her again. Mrs Wilander who ruled over the admin level of this mining operation. She wasn’t fair, or nice, but thanks to her this place had not collapsed yet.
Where should he start, then? Clueless, he went to the kitchen, where Wilander and her friend Spud seemed to spend their whole days. At the high-gloss plastic table where they always sat, it was often possible to obtain free goodies: a cup of coffee, tea or chocolate. And on rare lucky days whiskey and sometimes cookies were on offer. Today, though, was one of those miserable days with plenty of nothing. Not a single crumb could be seen on the table. How mean. There were several cupboards in the room and he knew they were packed with genuine unreplicated food. Sadly they were always locked. Five times he had tried, in the middle of the night, to open them. With zero result, except for cold feet.
Mrs Wilander was watching the news on a large screen, behind the curtain of smoke that her cigarette never failed to produce. There was, in his opinion, nothing wrong with addiction, as long as you were among the lucky ones selling the poison. The presenter, who looked half asleep, was enumerating several key facts about the Romulan government. A Praetor called Shinzon had died and there was nothing but turmoil ahead for the pointed ears. He should be paying more attention to what was being said, this was after all, history in the making, but he couldn’t be arsed. So instead he forwarded his question to Wilander: Regarding this business of joining Starfleet Academy, where should he start?
The Terran woman looked at him with the delight you might reserve for an intrusion of cockroaches. “You and your questions, Brek...,” she told him. “If you want something to study, what don’t you start with diplomacy and how not to pester people? That would be a fine improvement on your character.”
“Diplomacy?” He repeated, the word being mostly alien to him. Behind it, he felt, were notions of protecting your own interests and promoting your own culture. Was diplomacy then, about being selfish?
Spud, (a former miner who had lost his mental capacities after a mysterious accident, and who was never far away from Wilander) spoke up, and what he said baffled Brek.
“Is an egg a fruit or a vegetable?”
“It is food,” Brek replied. “You don’t need to complicate things, Spud.”
“See,” Wilander added. “You can do diplomacy after all. All it takes is for you not to say the first thing that comes to your mind. Now, if it doesn't trouble you too much, I want to hear what they’ve got to say about Commander Donatra.”
Brek would have left, but Donatra happened to be female, and for the sake of challenging the sexist beliefs of his people, he decided to educate himself on what was going on in the Imperial Fleet.
“The Empire will collapse,” Spud added, sounding like a great oracle who had seen the future.
“Nonsense,” Wilander said. “He is only repeating what the miners say, and they are as thick as gutter mud. Some of them haven’t seen a sunrise in twenty years. How can they know about the intricacies developing in the Beta Quadrant?”
“Twenty years is an awful long time.” Brek pointed out. Her words had revived what he considered to be one of the biggest mysteries at FenixCorps: how long had Mrs Wilander been here, and could it be that she had been, maybe at one time, Starfleet material? She didn’t look like it now, but remove 20 years and and 20 kg from her figure and she would have fit nicely in those trendy uniforms that Fleeters wear. Should he dare to ask her about her past? Temptation, temptation...
On the screen, the presenter was talking about Donatra’s past. Difficult upbringing. Her father had disappeared, her mother had protected her. Being super very intelligent she had become a Commander in no time. That was not all, though, when Shinzon had planned to destroy all life on Earth, she had sided with Hewmons and was notorious for having said to one captain Picard: ‘You've earned a friend in the Romulan Empire today, captain; I hope the first of many.’
“She won’t make many friends with words like that,” Brek commented, with a little giggle.
Wilander blew smoke in his direction. “You shouldn’t promote your ignorance so openly. It makes you look like a fool. Shut up and listen.”
Brek did so for a couple of minutes, and then he launched another verbal attack on Wilander. “Were you a Starfleet Officer in the past? You seem to know so much about everything. Plus you have this interest in Romulan affairs. Maybe you were on a mission that involved them? Maybe you’ve even met Cmdr Donatra?”
“If you make it to your fifties, Brek, which, the way you are going, is highly doubtful, you will also gain some wisdom,” She said, her attention still focused on the screen.
“But were you in StarFleet, though?I have seen a few officers on Volchock, you know. I’m not entirely ignorant. A few ships stopped on that planet to get new supplies. You look a bit like Starfleet material.”
“A bit?” she asked. She had put her cigarette down and was now staring at him. Not an altogether pleasant experience.
“That’s only an expression,” Brek promptly added. “It’s like saying you can’t shake the past. Certain traits remain. It’s like that for all of us.”
“I know what it means, Brek.” Her cigarette went back to her lips. “You have virtually no past, though, so don’t go on about it. And stop using doublespeak with me. If you insult me one more time, I’ll kick your ass back to your office. And it won’t take me more than 3 minutes to do it!”
“But...” he started
“Shush!” Spud said.
And it was final. The kitchen was plunged into an abysmal silence for the next hour.
