PNPC Ensign Ferentis: ...You're Kidding (Blackwell)

[Quinn Friedl]

((Executive Officer’s Office, Deck 5, USS Blackwell))

Ferentis: You asked to see me, sir.

::No, it hadn’t been a question. Phrased though it might be like a request, this was an order, simple and plain. It wasn’t the first time that the Pahk’wa-thanh had chafed at the expectation inherent to orders, especially those phrased as a friendly suggestion. In a world of protocol and expected pleasantries, he understood the game, and played it well. But the intentions were different here- the veneer of sociability was somehow transformed into a perverted assemblage of itself.::

::He was still grumpy.::

::Rage was not something a Pahk’wa-thanh allowed to hang out, regardless of the circumstances. Of course, his sister, ever hell-bent on defying every societal custom his species had devised, bucked the percentages. He, on the other hand, absorbed their meaning, not just their relevance. The politeness was not simply an ingrained, yet skin-depth affectation. As such, he bore whatever unpleasant circumstances with as much aplomb as his aging soul could manage, knowing that on his deathbed, he’d wear a plastered smile- not out of joy, but out of habit.::

::The moodiness was becoming more pervasive. He shut it off forcefully, a snap engineering decision, designed to prevent other systems from succumbing to an insidious cascade of clouded judgement and hurt feelings.::  

Thoran: Thank you for joining me Mr Ferentis. Please take a seat. Would you like a drink?

Ferentis: No thank you, sir.

::A kind offer, a kind declination. And though his face was as inscrutable as ever, much to his satisfaction, humans were sensitive creatures. Most apes were. When your heritage could be traced back to an era of unrivaled reptilian dominance, certain needs and fears are so genetically ingrained so as to make them a building block for the rest of time.::

::Thoran’s hands were shaking, and Ferentis picked up a hint of sweat in the air. Somehow, that hurt him more. Discipline from a friend was one thing, especially when it was warranted. But the chief of security, and his holodeck companion, so far as he could tell, was genuinely frightened of his presence. Of course it was instinctive, but it was yet another gulf that no amount of trust could ever bridge. More than anything else in the previous weeks of reflection and hard work, this simple reaction made him want to weep. ::

Thoran: I’m sure you can guess why i’ve called this meeting - the events on Arndall. I’ve given much thought on how to deal with your indiscretion, a matter which I apologise for taking so long.

Ferentis: Yes, sir- I understand.

::Only a senior officer could both barb and apologize in the same sentence, and mean them both with compassion. For better or for worse, Thoran truly was a good man. He refused to stiffen at the mention of his “indiscretion”, despite an urge to explain the true nature of events to the lieutenant commander. This was one lash he’d simply have to bear.::

::He wondered about the punishment. A reprimand? Extra duty shifts? Confinement to quarters? The brig? Would Thoran even be so cruel so as to assign him to the profoundly unenviable task of refitting the methane toilets on Deck 8?::  

Thoran: You’ve put me in quite the predicament Mr Ferentis.

::”I aim to please”. The smart reply was stifled, but not by much. Perhaps Eora had rubbed off on him more than he’d realized. A moment later, as Thoran turned to gaze upon the ancient alien outpost that was Deep Space 26, Ferentis did begin to realize the depths of his decision. It was not him on the line. Thoran’s pursuing of this matter made even more sense than it had before. It wasn’t so much what he’d done. It was what he’d failed to do, and more importantly, what he might do again, if not properly incentivized to improve. It was a curious thing, being old and experienced enough to understand totally the psychological tactics and necessary leadership reasoning Thoran was certainly engaging in right now, and yet still being subject to them under the letter of the law, fully aware that his understanding lifted almost all benefit from their application.::

Ferentis: oO In other words, I’m getting too old for this feldercarb. Oo  

::An instant later, Thoran turned, weary and conflicted, and resumed his seat before Ferentis. The dinosaur remained respectfully impassive.::  

Thoran: You knowingly concealed a device of incredible power, a device which could have caused untold damage to this ship and her crew.

Ferentis: Yes, sir.

::It was a fact, and lying was not only directly against everything their organization stood for- it was rude as well. Though he did bear intense shame at his lack of foresight and criminally negligent engineering abilities, the fact was this contraband was taken on as a matter of safety and out of a need to protect. That had backfired in a way, and Ferentis was extraordinarily lucky that no one without a carapace had been killed by his erratic weapon’s foibles.::

::He was used to standing at the top of the mountain, looking down, empathizing with every situation he came across, while naturally taking the lead on judging its moral implications. For once, just for the novelty, he decided to rescind that policy temporarily. Thoran would bear his fate, on more than one level. Despite his disappointment in the security chief, and his considerable and as yet unrecognized embarrassment at the blunder, he trusted Thoran’s crucial blend of competence, experience, practicality and fairness more than anything else aboard the ship.::

Thoran: However, I have taken into consideration your actions on Arndall. Actions which I have no doubted saved our lives.

::Not everyone’s. Not enough. Less came out than went in. The moment was long and sombre. Each being knew they’d not done enough. Whether this was actually the case or not was a judgement for others to decide. All they knew then was the failure, and the silence so unwaveringly earned.::

Ferentis: We each did our part, sir.

Thoran: I also believe that you have learnt your lesson and I am confident that you will not make the same mistake again.

::Learned his lesson. What preposterous words. He struggled, and eventually succeeded, in focusing on the meaning behind them, instead of the age gap that left him scrabbling to balance his need for some small shred of self respect and the demands of the service. How long could he keep up this charade of innocence and naivety? As long as was necessary, he decided. For all its faults, Starfleet was where he wanted and needed to be.::

Ferentis: Yes, sir. ::He bowed his head, somewhat stiffly.::

::Here it came. It couldn’t be pushed off any further. Thoran had framed the situation, explained his difficulty, apologized as best he could for the task he must perform that brokered no friendship.::

Thoran: Mr Ferentis, consider this your one free pass. I do not expect to have this conversation, or similar, in the future.

::Ferentis deflated like a balloon. No, strike that. This was more of a cataclysmic star implosion. So concerned had he been with presenting a strong but disciplined front, so consumed had he been with the pain of this official condemnation, that the anticlimactic ruling of Thoran felt almost more crushing than the possibilities swarming in his mind. Why had he been so infernally worried? How many days had he devoted to steeling himself for this one meeting? This was the punishment. Nothing Thoran could assign would top the cruel, wheeling machinations that tore freely through his thinker’s cranium. What a brutally cruel stroke. What an unintentionally genius display of conniving villainy. He had underestimated this human, his friend and tormentor. He would not do so again.::

Ferentis: Neither do I.

::His jaw trembled dangerously. His equanimity was sliding away with rapid haste. He needed a retreat, a rest, and, most importantly, two or three candied targs he might angrily devour. In a moment of weakness, he thought something uncouth- a crime of deep and crippling proportion- and used a human parlance he was now intimately familiar with.::

Ferentis:  oO Screw the diet plan Sickbay stuck me with. I’m hangry. Oo

::Few pounds would be shed that night. Without even asking for permission- another deeply out of character and blasphemous act from the sinking Pahkwa-thanh- Ferentis stood and marched out of Thoran’s office. He made his way directly to his cabin, thundered in, and did not come out again until the following day, when his responsibilities could not wait.::

::A great many targs were harmed in the making of this duty shift.::

END

PNPC Ensign Ferentis
Engineer
USS Blackwell
NCC 58999

=======as simmed by=======

Lieutenant Commander Randal Shayne
Ops Officer/Second Officer
USS Blackwell
NCC 58999
G239202RS0