[C] LtCmdr Tristam Core, "Punching the punches."

[Deliera Jay]

((Corridor))

::They were following him around. *Literally following him around as if he couldn't get his job done*. The only saving grace he had was that, because the God that was Roshanara Rahman heeded his request, they didn't have permission to actually enter Engineering. An Engineering lab? Sure. Fine. Why not. Engineering? Nope.

::That was *his* domain, and his only.

::And by his, he meant as a sanctuary to be left alone by "expert Rodulans".

::It was almost cartoon-like, how they'd pop up unannounced by his elbow, 'checking in on him', as if the stress of a non-Rodulan institution was getting to him despite a rounded 14 years worth of experience.::

Enob: Daneil Core-

Core: No.

::Tristam started walking faster, but Enob had somehow managed to pass and stop in front of him.::

Enob: I demand your audience.

oO You can demand my 'audience' all you like, I couldn't give two hoots. Oo

::There had been a catch to implementing Rodulan technology aboard the Veritas, one he'd initially thought would be an okay, not too terrible idea but was now of the understanding that yes. It had been a horrible, horrible plan that he should have thought through. Two Rodulan experts in their planets communications technology would make the trek with him to the Veritas to oversee it's installation and use.

::The original plan had been for Medledore to come with - Medledore he knew how to handle. But she had pulled out (deliberately) last minute, literally as they were boarding the shuttle, for her to be replaced with the two computer clones he now knew as Quola Vei-xap Baseea (a blue almond-eyed, dark haired, tanned skinned, 190 year-old Krzexxi menace whom had *invented* the damn thing) and and her apprentice, Wyllam Enob (a black-eyed, chocolate skinned, bald man whom decided that at 230 years old, he'd wanted a change of profession - which would be an admirable choice, had he not stepped into Tristam's home and started commenting literally the words "look how inexperienced the boy is").

::Baseea's hesitation to truly accept Tristam's capability in the field was understandable - if Tristam had handed her one of his prides and joys in a foreign area of space, he too would be antsy and irritable upon being locked out of it's place of installation.

::Enob, though?

::Enob was just a downright kenkt. Every move, every decision Tristam had made, Enob would be at his elbow quietly questioning it's validity and confirming with Baseea. And then, when Baseea was out of earshot, he'd question him about simple choices in the Veritas Engineering - how propulsion could be improved by doing *this* (cue how the deflector array would burn out within three days), or how shield output could be rendered mute by *this* (which was false because Veritas was already compensating for that) - and the real kick to the teeth, how the holodecks on the Veritas weren't up to spec (Tristam had practically *designed* those specs- Rodulans have had holographic technology for a total of two years now and all of a sudden they were experts on Starfleet holomatrixes?!?). It was these moments in particular Tristam had prayed Walker would pass the door and hear, perhaps jump in to smash Enob's face into the deck plating with her expert knowledge as Chief Engineer, but he'd thus far been out of luck. Even Loupaz kept out of the way when he needed her.::

::These two Rodulans had walked into his house, ignored his welcome cake and instead started commenting on how their toddler could paint better then the artists he had featured on his wall. He'd started avoiding them only three days into their time here on Veritas.::

Core: What. ::Tristam snapped.:: What do you want?

Enob: Baseea would like a detailed report of the Veritas' ongoing power distributions.

Core: What for?

Enob: So that the correct flow of power can be determined for the project.

Core: I've already made the adjustments. Walker confirmed and approved them.

::He'd even sent them to Roshanara in case somehow he and Walker had both been wrong (a paranoia implanted by Baseea and Enob) - though the resulting message was roughly along the lines of "you've been doing this for how many years exactly? Why are you sending this to me?"

::So yes. They were correct.::

Enob: I am not so certain-

Core: What makes you think that you and Baseea would be able to correct my numbers? Neither of you have worked with Starfleet power regulators before.

Enob: One hundred years of experience-

::Nope. He wasn't hearing this time. Tristam gave a frustrated groan and pushed pasted Enob, continuing to the turbolift - but of course, the other Rodulan followed.::

Enob: I find your attitude unbecoming of a Daneil.

::And there was the other thing. "Daneil".

::Naming conventions on Rodul were strange - or, at least, they were in the Western Gate. Parents would assign the middle name as the profession or education they *wanted* their child to pursue - which, thank you Meredyn Core, Tristam happened to enjoy. Daneil was the term for Tristam's current level of education - of which he'd later find out would be equivalent to a Master's degree in a civilian sense on Earth. He'd been one of the youngest to obtain it, a kid by Rodulan standards. Though some people were impressed by a boyish genius, he'd never been able to extend his education further because that's all the education board ever truly saw him as - a child with dumb luck.

::Was he a genius? He'd never claim to be one. Tristam was still learning and would for the next 200+ years of his existence, but he was specialist at what he could do. And that child the Rodulans were so 'worried' about was 33 years old, one of Rodul's few officers in the Federation Starfleet, and had worked with so many pieces of foreign technology that he could no longer count them - more then what Baseea herself could ever claim in her so-called "100+ years of experience". He was the components specialist of this ship, knew every nook and cranny of every component on all the installations he'd been placed - had even made a few of them. Tristam had *earned* the rank of Lieutenant Commander - and he was no more, and no less then that.

::Baseea and Enob were going out of their way to ignore his Starfleet capabilities, as if they were unimportant in the task ahead. It was taking every inch of his self-control to not scream or throw something at them.::

Core: My attitude is due to the continued prodding and calls of my incompetence of two so-called experts on *my turf*.

Enob: And it is exactly this kind of response that warrants our concern-

Core: No, sir. It doesn't. The minute you learn to trust me and my capabilities, I'll start forwarding you all the reports you want bar those you cannot access due to security clearance. Until then, ::he stepped into the turbolift:: Deck six.


Tbc . . .

LtCmdr Tristam Core
Components Specialist
USS Veritas