CHAPTER FIFTEEN
INTERLUDE WITH A TELLERITE
My good spirits lasted just as long as it took me to get back to the Bridge. Sitting in my chair, poking around my board was Bors Bogan. He was wearing another one of his seemingly endless supply of what passes for professional wear on Tellar. Papaya-yellow trousers decorated in big, slate-grey blocks with an open-collared shirt exactly the color of three-day-old lemon meringue and a blazer of alternating black and brown rectangles on a pale green background. He would have made a passable clown back on Equestris if it wasn’t for the beetle-browed scowl. (Not to me, precisely, I’ve always thought clowns were creepy!)
His eyes snapped right to me the moment the lift opened. “It is easy to see how you stay so big when you take such long meal breaks, Commander.” He said, nastily.
Now ever since I’ve been spending so much time with these relatively tiny Terrestrial Ponies I’ve been very self-conscious about my weight. Even with Sunny’s policing of my diet I was eight pounds heavier than I wanted to be. (Sunny, bless her heart, assures me that I’m carrying it all in just the right places but too much is too much no matter how high on your chest you carry it!) Bogan, with the genius of malicious insight, had zeroed in on that insecurity and it became his go-to target when he was feeling obnoxious… which was over ninety-eight percent of the time. Ten years ago I would have squirmed and wanted to hide. That was before I’d punched my first Tellarite loudmouth, though. I was a lot tougher now, and experienced… in the ways of Tellarites, at least. As it was, I locked him with my eyes and began strolling to my station.
“Well since I don’t take five meal breaks a day I have to eat more, don’t I?” I said smoothly.
Caper, lounging sideways in his command chair, swiveled slowly in our direction.
“I do no normally countenance civilians on Bridge, Mr. Bogan. You are here only because you wanted to see Commander Starry-Eyes about urgent concerns in Science Department, da?” He quirked a bushy eyebrow in my direction. “Is something I should be concerned about?” He rumbled.
Before I could speak, Bogan butted in. “I have been trying to see the Commander, “He sneered the word. “ For days now and I’m tired of being put off and ignored. I will be heard and now!” He sat forward in my chair and jutted his fuzzy jaw (Adorned with some positively ridiculous little green ribbons tied into the fur, for Faust’s sake!) aggressively. …I began counting to one thousand in base six numbers.
“Ah! Then is case of miscommunication.” Caper looked thoughtful. Only the Ponies that knew him well picked up on the dangerous glint in his eye. “Mr. Bogan is not familiar yet with Starfleet protocol regarding proper venue for discussing Departmental issues. Perhaps should re-read orientation materiel sent to personal terminal on arrival maybe.” He speared Bogan with a passing glance before turning my way again. “Business is slow today. Feel free to show Mr. Bogan way to Briefing Room and give him refresher course, da? Oh, and Mr. Bogan…” Caper waved him over closer and leaned on the arm of his chair to continue in a more hushed and personal tone. “Just friendly word of advice to uninformed civilian. Commander Starry-Eyes is Starfleet Officer of excellent standing. While you work on this ship you…” He prodded the Tellarite in the chest with one finger “…you, bubula, will show proper respect like she does to you. We’re all friends here, nyet?” He waved him away. “Dismissed.”
Bogan harrumphed and stomped his way up from the Captains chair toward where I was standing near the lift. I lifted an arm and triggered the sensors of the door for him.
“The Briefing Room is on deck th-”
“I know where it is! Do I look like an Augment?” The Bridge fell silent. Jerry looked up in utter shock, Evee stiffened in her seat and shot a backwards glance out of the corner of her eye as Merry threw her stylus down with a brittle sounding clatter. “Oi! C’mere, ya sheep-humpin‘wog! Who the ‘Ell-”
I laid a hoof on her shoulder and it took a considerable portion of my Augmented strength to keep her down in her seat. She had the sense not to struggle for more than a second.
“Merry.” I gave her a look. “I’ve got this.”
Merry seethed for a moment, then, “Roight, Starry. ‘ Ave a good trip, choom. Trip an’ break yer bloody neck! Oy’ll come visit ya in ‘Ospital!”
Caper slowly twirled his chair toward the turbolift. It wasn’t easy to see for whom his hardest glare was reserved for.
“Mr. Bogan. Please to grab handle and clear lift. Must have word with Communication Officer. After…” He raised a finger in awful emphasis. “.. you apologize to Commander Starry-Eyes for callous and racist remark. This. Instant.” If his eyes were phased balefire the Tellarite would have been glowing pink ash then and there!
Bogan saw fit not to escalate things. He gripped the actuating handle of the lift and ground out. “I apologize…” He said insincerely. “For anything untrue I may have said.” He gave the control a savage twist and the doors hissed shut. The Bridge beeped and thrummed in silence for a long moment.
Merry squirmed. “Look ‘ere, Skipper…”
“Lieutenant Merry!” Caper skewered her with his eyes.
“Oy’ll apologize, but Oy’ll be damned if Oy say Oy’m sorry…”
“For your remarks to guest aboard this ship…” Caper worked his mouth thoughtfully for a moment. “…On behalf of Bridge Crew, in appreciation, you may have my dessert tonight.” He shrugged, resigned. “Will make Doctor and Yoemare happy, da? But!” He gave a bushy eyebrow to the Communication Officer. “In future, pending formal reprimand, you will exercise proper sense of decorum, da?”
“Too roight, Boss! Yer gonna git such a hug next shore leave, you are!”
Caper made an exasperated noise and rolled his eyes. I cleared my throat quietly.
“Captain. I’m sorry this had to happen on the Bridge…”
“So am I, Little Grandmother.” His expression softened and his eyes relaxed a little as he watched me keenly. “I thought you were better at handling these things. But is not like dealing with reasonable Ponies, da?”
I stiffened, all too aware at how I’d disappointed my friend.
“This ends today, Caper. I promise. With your permission?” I stepped toward the lift.
“Carry on, Commander. And good luck. While you are gone will have Maintenance come and disinfect seat and board, da?” Something in his eyes made me think that maybe I hadn’t disappointed him… yet.
Merry snickered, picking up her stylus. “Bit of a nice touch, that! Maybe we oughta dip that blighter as well… just fer the sake of general hygiene!”
Caper shook his head and ruffled his wings tiredly. “If is so much time to spare at Communications maybe Maintenance Crew could use help?”
Merry busied herself at her board. “Workin’, Skipper! Workin’ ‘ard! Workworkworkwork!” She started playing a medley on her station as the lift doors closed.
A more emotional, suboptimal pony (As non-Augments were reckoned by my ancestors in The Bad Old Days.) would have punched a wall in the seclusion of the turbolift. I had no doubt I could hole the interior paneling quite a few times with only a token amount of damage. But I was a better breed now, wasn’t I? …Yeah, right. Part of me wanted to send Bogan back to Tellar in six separate horseshoe boxes. I spent three whole seconds imagining how good that would feel before summoning the mental disciplines to focus my thoughts, redirect my anger to allow my mind to free itself to optimize the situation. I grabbed the lift handle and gave it a twist to activate it.
“Deck Three. Briefing Room.” I said. The duotronic systems would shunt the lift car by the quickest route possible, taking into account the traffic of the other cars using the system. Since I didn’t invoke a priority override my trip would take me, in this instance, to the other side of the Saucer Section before arriving at my destination. I used the time to indulge in some of the almost ritualistic tai chi-style breathing exercises my ancestors brought from Earth long, long ago. I clasped my hooves, shut my eyes, and adjusted my stance before sweeping into the controlled, graceful, almost dance-like steps…
By the time the doors opened my anger was a bright, burning spark deep within me. There it flared not unlike the antimatter in the core of the time warp drive, controlled and harnessed, ready to be used at a moment’s notice in the service of my intellect and my will. It was against my personal code, and the code of my people, not to intimidate and I really do try not to do it… too much. (I suppressed a guilty pang.) Anypony could use an iron horseshoe but a velvet hoof could yield much better results. The iron horseshoe was the mark of Khan. We of Equestris kept ours under a velvet glove and I was determined that it was with that I would deal with Bogan. However expedient my actions were years ago I made a mistake. The Universe does not care but does it forget and neither the consequences of all out acts, good or ill, come back threefold. I had come up with a solution. Peace arises through compromise and sacrifice. If the Federation could make peace, as I’d pointed out not too long ago, why shouldn’t I? At whatever price…
It was a considerable distance to the Briefing Room after the doors opened again. Without having to adjust my Equestrin pace to accommodate shorter Terrestrial legs I made it there in seconds. I was so caught up in what I was about to do that I ignored the friendly smiles and nods I encountered on the way. I hoped they would forgive me just this once…
Bogan was seated behind the terminal of the asymmetric, hexagonal table, looking like the very poster foal of impatience with legs far apart and hands on his knees. As if dominant male body language was going to intimidate me! He glared as I entered.
“You took your time! I should not be kept waiting when I have valuable work to do!” He barked.
In each Briefing Room as well as the Mess Hall there is one chair built to accommodate my physique. I didn’t drag it into place opposite him. Rather, I picked it up bodily between thumb and forefinger and carefully held it aloft until I’d found just the right place to put it… with a thump. He straightened up, closed his knees and folded his arms across his chest. (Take that, Mr. Dominant Male!) (The Mare in my head scolded me only half-heartedly.)
I seated myself and carefully steepled my fingers. “Mr. Bogan-”
“Doctor Bogan, if you please!” He snapped.
“Your Doctorate,” I continued without missing a beat. “Is appointed, not earned. I checked. You got your ‘degree’ by virtue of seniority rather than research. ‘Doctor of General Science’ is not a recognized field of study. On ethical grounds I will not accord you the title outside of purely formal occasions, which this is most surely not.”
He was going to argue the point (Big surprise!) but I cut him off by tilting my wrists and pointing all ten steepled fingers at his chest like an oversized spear head.
“Let us reason together, Bors Bogan. We’re here now in this place because a few years ago I gave you a love tap and arranged for you to take a smelly nap in a cargo module of recyclable organic waste. I’m sorry about that. Believe it or not, I truly am. My only excuse was that I was a lot less mature back then, I was in a hurry and there was a War on. The ends never justify the means, though. Give me just a few moments, please.”
For he was about to try to butt in again. At my look he subsided. An intensely interested gleam came into his close-set eyes. One paw came up to tug idly at one of those Luna-awful little green ribbons on his chin…
“Now you are working on my ship in a Department I head alongside some damn fine Ponies who happen to be my friends. I accept and understand that you do not like me. I appreciate that you quite probably hate me for what I did. It was a humiliating experience that brings me nothing but shame to this day and has given me an embarrassing, but not undeserved, reputation among the crew that I’m trying to rectify. But!” I fixed him with a calm and level look. “This does not give you license to run roughshod over any Pony on this ship. Petty vengeance and spite are not options in my Department or any ship of the Federation!” I emphasized my point by disengaging my hooves and jabbing one forefinger point down on the tabletop with an audible thump. I paused diplomatically to let him blow off some steam.
Instead, though, he laid his arms flat on the table and leaned in, scrutinizing me keenly before speaking in a surprisingly casual tone.
“What are you getting at, Commander Starry-Eyes? I’m curious to know.” He didn’t sneer the title or my name. … One compartment of my mind began to wonder just what was going on in that fuzzy head while the rest of me forged on.
“Just this, Mr. Bogan.” I took a fortifying breath before I realized I did it. “I can’t undo what I’ve done. But I can offer to put it behind us both. Not forgotten, but acknowledged. I… would rather be your friend than your enemy. I would have peace in my Department and my ship. To that end I am willing to make a formal apology to the Tellar Ambassador and to Starfleet. I want to be your friend for all our sakes so think of this as an earnest of my intentions.”
He mentally chewed that over. “… It could mean the end of your career, if I am not mistaken.” Well, I made this pile of straw. Time to lay down on it. I did my best to ignore the chill that shook me to my core and ponied on.
I nodded, acknowledging the point. “Conceivably. The whole affair was pretty much buried under the tailings back then. I imagine some up-and-coming bureaucrat trying to make a name for themselves could get me drummed out of Starfleet. Assault is assault. The charge could stick. At the very least it would be blot on my permanent record that will follow me the rest of my career. … However long that might be.” I dropped my gaze for just a moment as the implications I’d imagined, but never vocalized, sank in. When I looked up, Bogan was stroking his ribbons in thought.
I continued. “Of course they won’t likely make us turn the ship around so it will be a solid three years Terran before anything comes of it. Captain Caper will have a lot to say about what happens to me till then.” I had an uncomfortable moment at the thought of putting Caper in the middle of this. I could always claim that I misrepresented the facts to him. His hooves and his record would be clean or, at least, clean enough. I cleared my throat.
“Like I said. I’d rather be friends. If that isn’t acceptable I’m willing to offer an… alternative.” I eyed him coolly.
He rose to the bait.
“And what would that be?” He asked suspiciously.
“I’m prepared to set aside half an hour a day at the end of my watch for you to complain to your heart’s content. I’m your problem. Not my people, not this ship, not Starfleet. You want to take it out on somepony take it out on me. I’ll listen to whatever you say and I’ll swear to The Mothers Of Tellar that I’ll try to meet you halfway.” I smiled wryly. I’ll be your private whipping Pony.”
The expression was giving him trouble. “You want me to beat you, Commander? One assault does not make up for another!”
“Don’t push your luck, Bub! You want to act like a prick, act like a prick to me and nopony else. Make me the target of your verbal abuse and leave my shipmates alone. That’s the deal. What do you say?”
He regarded me speculatively and chewed the inside of his cheek.
“Make it a full hour a day. I’ll exclude Tellarite and Federation Holidays, of course. I am not unreasonable.”
‘Of course you’re not!’ I mentally grumbled.
“Fair enough.” I conceded. “You get nearly eleven hundred hours of being the nastiest bastard you want to be to your heart’s content.” ‘You must be so happy.’ I didn’t add out loud.
Yet he didn’t even smile. Was he thinking of even more?
“Who else knows of this… compromise, shall we call it?”
I shook my head. “This is between you and me and nopony else!” I pointed a finger at him, hooked a thumb to me, then made a slashing motion all with the same hoof. “I can’t see any other way to do this, can you?”
He actually sat back in his chair, gripping his lapels in classic melodramatic villain fashion as the beginnings of a smile tugged at his squat muzzle. …Oh, I was going to learn to hate that face!
“I really… what is the expression… ‘get under your skin‘, as the Earthers say?” He drawled. I wanted to wipe that smug look off his face with a brick!
Instead, I forced another wry smile. “You’re a veritable artist. Your ah, technique has improved with time. If you had been like this a few years ago…” I shrugged. “Lucky for you I’m more mature these days.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” He agreed. He suddenly leaned forward eagerly and actually rubbed his paws together in gleeful anticipation! I put on a carefully neutral expression and wondered, wistfully, if any court would really convict me if I fired him out a torpedo tube…
The Mare in my Head gave me a kick in the backside. … Well, I deserved it!
Bogan sat forward almost unbearably pleased with himself.
“What is the Equestrin method of ‘sealing the deal?’ ” He asked.
I stifled a sigh. Time to face the music! How was I going to explain this to Sunny and Caper?
“We grip forearms, so we can feel the strength behind our words.” I pushed back the sleeve of my blouse and reached over the table and offered my arm. …And waited.
Bogan regarded my arm for a few moments. Then he inclined his head up to look at me. My personal warp core flared for an instant. That miserable rock-humpin’ creep was going to insist on more conditions!
“You win, Commander.” He stated. “Congratulations and well played!” …Was that admiration on his face? I froze as the Mare in my head blinked blankly as all the breakers on her Bridge popped open!
I’ve always prided myself and my vocabulary. I flatter myself to think I can just about out-talk a Vulcan when it comes to reasoning a point. I am the product of over two hundred years of selective breeding for mental acuity…
And all I could come up with was. “Wait… what now?”
“You win!” He repeated. “I can’t outdo what you are prepared to do. Such devotion! Such dedication!” He threw his arms about enthusiastically with each statement while I resolutely kept my jaw from dropping open.
Some of my confusion must’ve seeped into my eyes. The Mare in my head was chin deep so it had to overflow somewhere!
He noticed after a few seconds and began to explain.
“It’s the Tellarite Way. Surely an Equestrin knows that nothing worthwhile is easy, Commander! If I had rolled over on my back a few years ago it would have demeaned us both. Though you did give me the victory back then, if I might say so. ‘Love tap’, indeed! I thought I was concussed for sure!” He actually chuckled.
“I’m… confused.” I admitted. “How did I give you a victory?”
“By resorting to physical violence, of course, instead of outdoing me. You were just an Ensign then, but it still gave me a considerable amount of …” He waved a hairy paw, searching for a term. “Status! Yes, status will do. Even though you didn’t stay on very long I still came out on top in the eyes of my supervisors.” He looked at me benevolently. “You helped advance my career considerably!”
My mind race to assimilate all this. “And now… since I’m a Commander, the parameters have changed. It became necessary for you to accommodate yourself to my increased ‘status’.”
“Precisely!” he beamed. “And this time you played the game like a civilized person! I challenged and you became more challenging in turn. The more demanding I became the more you accepted without surrendering… or invoking outside forces to put me in my place, as it were. Which, of course, would have made me the victor.” He declared in an offhoof manner.
“Mind you!” He continued. “I was beginning to have a rough time keeping up. After all, I wasn’t getting any work done, and that would have been no good for anyone onboard. I almost, almost, surrendered myself. Quite frankly, Madame, your style of play is almost reckless in its audacity. I would go so far as to say it is intimidating! To think that you were going to go so far as to accept three years of discomfort just to keep everything working smoothly for the good of all!” He shook his furry head. “I honestly don’t think I could have made it that long. I’m not as young as I used to be. But!” He raised a paw. “That’s not an excuse. Life’s challenges must be met no matter what the cost to one’s self… as you so ably proved! Again, well played! You have given us both much more status. You will have no further trouble out of me, Commander, now that my honor demands I conduct myself to be worthy of your standards.”
I actually hated to bring it up, but I stopped him in mid-paean.
“Look, before you go any further. …I have to admit I had no idea of ‘The Tellarite Way’, much less how it works. I did what I thought I had to do for the sake of peace. I wasn’t aware of your custom so I’m not worthy of any victory, I’m afraid.”
Bogan only laughed! “My Dear Commander! How many of your own Equestrin values do you keep to and apply on a ship full Earthers? Do they adhere to the Equestrin Way? Does it matter to you? Of course not! You treat them like Equestrins because that is how you were raised! How could I do anything less?” He splayed his paws.
So help me, I actually laughed! “Good point! I had to bring it up, though.”
“Of course you did! Your honor demanded it. You see? I was right!” He paused for a moment, a smile that I thought only Sunny could invoke quirking his face. …Which prompted me to ask.
“Wait a minute! Why were you pleasant to Sunny, anyway?”
“Oh, well, I didn’t have to work for her. There was nothing to prove, wasn’t there? And she’s such a charming girl, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
Oh! The things I could tell him about living with red-maned Alicorns! I chose to be diplomatic, though, because I just didn’t want to taint this moment.
“She is at that!” Then something else occurred to me. “But you say that your superiors already knew of my, uh, previous indiscretion? And Starfleet wasn’t concerned?”
“It never made it to them, didn’t it? No need since we saw it as a purely local matter settled to local satisfaction. After all, I hardly had reason to complain, didn‘t I?” He waggled a fuzzy finger at me. “The only danger to your career would have lain in your bringing in up after it had been ‘buried in the tailings’. Is that an Equestrin expression?” He cocked an eye at me.
“Uh, yes it is. So… it’s all settled then. Mr. Bogan I have to say that I never suspected…” I trailed off and shook my head. “Wow. I was going to say, ‘Had I but known I would have been a lot more understanding.’, but that would’ve just uh, ‘demeaned us both‘ , wouldn’t it?”
“We both would have lost face. This way we both win more, eh?” He chuckled, then he paused. “Speaking of winning… Commander, if we are to be friends then you must call me Bors.” He offered a paw.
“What? Not ‘Doctor’ Bors?” I engulfed his paw in my hoof with a grin.
“Only on formal occasions, of course!” He squealed the Tellarite version of a laugh.
“My friends call me Starry, Bors. Finally… welcome aboard!”
He added another paw to pat my hoof. “My pleasure, Mrs. Starry!” I wondered if that was some unknown Tellarite politeness as he released my hoof. “Well! If you will excuse me I must be off to change into something more practical. I have mountains of work to catch up on!” He beamed and headed for the door.
I cleared my throat quite deliberately and he stopped as if he expected it.
“You are going to apologize personally to Ensign Wind Gauge and Captain Caper, of course.” I stated, rolling an eye at him meaningfully.
He clasped his paws in front of him and gave me a half-bow. “You enrich us both, Mrs. Starry! It shall be done!” For all his bulk, he twirled lightly on his heel and was gone.
I sat for several seconds as the Mare in my head tried to make sense out of her readouts. When she gave up I lowered my head and bonked it on the tabletop once, twice, thrice, and left it there. It really is true! As a wise Pony once observed long, long ago. The Universe is stranger than we can imagine! Sometimes all a Pony can do is just quit struggling and accept it!