When Diplomacy Fails

Posted on Sun 16th Jun, 2019 @ 6:45pm by Captain Torrog
Edited on on Fri 19th Jun, 2020 @ 6:09am

1,838 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: A Diplomatic Affair
Location: Decks 126 and 600
Timeline: MD-5, 1400

The Ferengi was spitting mad, or he would be if Ferengi spit. He wasn't a huge fan of Starfleet or the Federation, in spite of several Ferengi who had done quite well running establishments on their starbases. And smuggling, of course, but that was a given with a Ferengi. The Rules of Acquisition almost required it as a national pastime. That's why he'd come to SB109, even though he had misgivings about whether that was a good plan for him.

The first thing he'd had to do was wait in line for a place to dock. Then where did they park him? Out in the middle of nowhere! Deck 126 had nothing on it, not a single place to eat, no entertainment, in fact no place to even conduct a little business! What's worse, he was at the farthest end and had to use a transporter to even get on the base. And why did he get that docking? He knew why. He was Ferengi! Those uppity hoomans never liked his species. He'd been as nice as he knew how to them, and they all looked down their long noses and mostly ignored him everywhere he came into contact with them.

Well, he'd had it! He wasn't putting up with this again! He'd march right up to their Captain of the Freaking Port and give him a lesson he'd never forget about Ferengis. "Computer, where is the office for the Captain of the Port?" he asked the first directory he came to after transporting in.

=^=The office of the Captain of the Port is on Deck 600. The lift will take you to deck 600 from which you can catch a tram. When you exit the tram station, follow the dark blue lines to the Captain of the Port's Office.=^=

It didn't take long for the frustrated Ferengi to find the lift and head down.

Henry tossed a Padd across his desk and started rubbing his eyes with exhaustion. "When he took the Captain of the Port position, he didn't realize how busy it was going to be. The engineer sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. "All these requests for service. Fix my ship first, fix this, fix that." Henry was amazed at how people could be so pushy when someone was doing something for them.

The commotion outside Henry's office was nothing if not loud. "I want to see the Captain of the Port, and I want to see him NOW!" roared the short Ferengi, showing his beautifully filed teeth, every single one of them.

"Sir," a woman's voice said, trying to soothe the man, who hadn't bothered with names. He'd simply barged in and made a demand, without even an appointment. "Could I tell him who is asking for him?"

"Torrog! Captain Torrog!" the Ferengi bellowed. "And I'm not asking, I'm insisting on seeing him. I have a bone to pick with him, and it's going to be picked clean!"

"Why me?" Henry muttered as he looked up into the air, as if he would have seen a benevolent being laughing down at him. Opening the door, he looked out.

"Captain Torrog, I believe it was. Come, come and have a seat. Would you like something to drink my friend? You look as if you need to be quenched from whatever vexes you."

Taken aback at the pleasant hooman response, the Ferengi walked in with a low growl. "Yes, thank you, I would like a drink, Eelwasser, if you can replicate a passable glass. Even more, I'd like to know why my ship was parked kilometers from the center of every business on your base!" He plopped himself into a chair in front of the Starfleet officer's desk and waited for an answer.

Henry stood from his chair and made his way over to the replicator in the corner of his office. "Computer, Eelwasser, please. Two cups please." Henry looked over to Torrog and smiled as he waited for the drinks to finish materializing.

"So, if I heard you correctly, you have a bone to pick with me because your ship has been parked kilometers away from the station core docking ring right?" Henry asked as he grabbed both cups from the replicator slot. He walked back over to his desk and placed the foul smelling liquid in front of his guest and made his way back to his chair on the opposite of the desk.

"That is exactly right. You've hit the nail right on the toe, isn't that what you hoomans say? I couldn't be farther from all the places I need to be to conduct business, and my crew is marooned away from all the rest and relaxation they are due. It isn't fair, and I suspect it's because we're Ferengi. You hoomans have always feared us, and this is the kind of treatment I've come to expect from you." Torrog slurped his drink, then made a face and set it down, pushing it aside.

"If you would move our ship closer to civilization, I'll be out of your hair and get on with my business. Which I should have been able to do from the beginning if your people had done their jobs right."

Henry could feel the anger and annoyance of Torrog's words welling in the pit of his throat, but he wouldn't give Torrog the satisfaction of knowing that he had hit a nerve. To quell his inner rage, Henry took a sip of the drink in front of him, forgetting that he had never even had, nor even heard of Eelswasser before. The engineer raised the cup up to his lips and took a sip of the water, only to want to spit it right back in the cup. But his pride wouldn't give Torrog the satisfaction.

"I hate you feel that you have been treated a certain kind of way just because of your race Captain Torrog, but I assure you that you were assigned that birth based on the timing of your arrival and based on the amount of work your ship needed to be done to it. "

Henry reached over to the terminal sitting in the middle of his desk and brought up the Torrog's information on the holo-screen in front of him. "Let's see.... here you are. Birth 1245. Wow you are a bit out there aren't you? But, I don't see any problem with where your ship is. You can still conduct any business you need here aboard the station once you make your way to the main hub."

"Oh, I see how it is," the Farengi nodded with a feral grin. "A hooman who wants to bargain. Very well. I offer ..." he paused slightly, thinking of the profit he hoped to make on the base when he delivered his goods. He had to be closer in. "Fifty¹ strips of latinum. That's the best I can do. It's highway robbery, but I need to be much closer to conduct my business. I can't spend all my time racing up and down the station. I'd never get any business done!" He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Captain Torrog what is the nature of the business that you are conducting here on Starbase 109?" Henry asked. Before Torrog could reply, Henry tapped the console on his desk and pulled up the Ferengi's ship manifest. "Let's pull up your ship's manifest and look at what you have submitted to my harbor masters. Hmmm.. self-sealing stem bolts, some heavy machinery from Andoria and other odds and ends. So tell me, why is it so pressing that your ship makes another switch places with you in my harbor."

"Not important to you, perhaps, but it's my living, Sir, my living! It's how I feed my children and keep my family sheltered. I don't have a fancy office," he looked around at the Captain of the Port's office with a sneer. "No one gives me money to sit around and insult others. I work for a living. If I don't sell those bolts and machinery and odds and ends, then I'm out of business." He frowned, worried that the man hadn't even mentioned the bribe. Did that mean he hadn't offered enough? If he offered more, where would be his profit?

"I don't say you have to put someone else out for our small venture. There are plenty of empty spots that would be much more convenient for me and my crew and customers. Pick one of those. And if we can't get the listed repairs done, then we'll move on to somewhere that we can get them."

"Captain Torrog. I understand that you are upset about where your ship was docked, but how dare you come into my office and accuse me of being racist just because you aren't happy about where your ship got parked. And then, you try to bribe me with latinum? Are you really this self-absorbed that you think this would convince me to move your vessel?" Henry stood up behind his desk and gave a death stare to Torrog.

"Honestly, if you came in here and politely asked me to move your ship to a different birth I would have agreed. But no, you didn't."

Torrog stood up himself. Though much shorter than the officer, he drew himself up to his full height. "Honestly? You have the nerve to start a sentence with that word?" the Ferengi spluttered. "No, I didn't just come, hat in hand to ask my mighty masters to do the right thing. And why would that be? Because I've never once been treated fairly by anyone in Starfleet. You all strut around like you own the world, and the rest of us are here for your convenience. That wasn't a bribe, you moron, it's the way business is done outside of your narrow little world, a way to make it easier for everyone.

"Well, forget it. I'll have my ship off your dock in less than an hour, and find other buyers for my goods. You can deal with the unhappy customers here who were waiting for them. And your Eelwasser is badly programmed and tastes disgusting." He turned toward the door, hoping his ship had been refueled during this time. With his luck, the almighty Starfleet had put him at the bottom of that list, too!

"I can show myself out, thank you very much," Torrog huffed.

Henry watched as the angry Ferengi stormed out of the office and then looked to the rank drink sitting in front of him. "Well crap!" he said with deep disgust in his voice. "That could have gone better." He said to himself.

Henry took a moment and stared at the brown liquid in his cup. He took a sniff and curled his lips at the horrible smell. "Computer, this Eelwasser is disgusting. Let's look at some new recipes to add to your repertoire."

 

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