Part of USS Olympic: Contrarian Nature

Harvesting the Future – Pt.1

Transporter room, USS Olympic
August 2402
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“Talk to people.”
“Connect to your crew.”

Asgren Valdes liked to believe that she was good at many things, but interpersonal connections weren’t exactly one of them. As commanding officer of the USS Sirona, she had prided herself in making ‘professional distance’ her defining personality trait. As First Officer aboard the USS Olympic, she was feeling a little… lost.

“Welcome to the Olympic, professor.” she said flatly as Lorrot materialized on the transporter pad. And then, remembering that she was supposed to make the Ferengi feel ‘at home’ – though there were boundaries as to how much at home she was willing to make him feel – she added a “I hope you had a pleasant journey.”

Professor Lorrot descended from the transporter pad with exaggerated dignity, smoothing his robes as though he had just stepped onto a boardroom dais rather than a Federation starship. His gaze flicked about the chamber with an appraiser’s eye.

“A pleasant journey? My dear commander,” he replied, his voice a deep nasal blend of mockery and charisma, “I have spent the last three weeks travelling in situations that barely considered the need of Ferengi cranial ergonomics. Do you know how difficult it is to think when your circulation is compromised?” He sniffed loudly.

Valdes opened her mouth to correct him – and perhaps even answer his question – but appeared to be lacking the reflexes to interrupt the Ferengi’s soliloquy.

“But I’m glad to be here on the Olympic,” he said, rolling the name as though tasting a vintage wine he had yet to decide was worthy of purchase. “A ship devoted entirely to research! An entire starship without a single phaser array optimised for profit protection. Truly, Starfleet is a marvel of misplaced priorities. But that comes with opportunities!”

He smiled broadly, exposing sharp teeth in what he must have thought a disarming grin. He turned back to Valdes, lowering his voice to something conspiratorial but no less smug. “Many opportunities, captain! Your scientists – noble, idealistic, undercompensated – toil away at discovering wonders of genetics and biology without any ulterior motive!”

“It does make one wonder where you fit it.” Valdes replied before she could stop herself. Perhaps not the most diplomatic of responses, but at least she had gotten something out.

Larrot gestured expansively toward the bulkheads, as if addressing an invisible lecture hall. “Consider this vessel as a floating market of exportable ideas. Much as I do at Daystrom, I intend to teach all of you one of the single most important lessons in scientific research: knowledge without profit is wasted.”

That explains, she thought to herself, and her lips tightened in annoyance. She wasn’t a scientist, and was glad to never have needed to approach a medical officer for anything else than a headache that needed a quick fix, but she held a deep appreciation for those dedicating their life to improving that of others.

Despite her better knowledge, she took the bait. “Which, I imagine is, is challenging to convince people of when ‘wealth’ fills a narrow band between comfortable, and slightly more comfortable.”