Who Blinks First

Posted on Fri Jun 5th, 2020 @ 10:51pm by Second Mate Simon Starr & MERCHANT RANKS N'Tach Oro-korinko (NPC)

2,163 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: Meanwhile...
Location: Second Star
Timeline: Prelaunch

-Start-

{0100 Agora- Lil' Hokkaido Izakaya}

Othor grimaced, he had expected there to be some regulars at the bars, but N'tach had become the proverbial barfly. They were stuck in Starbase 214, and he had no duties for the moment. He lived on this ship as a resident and was given rank for the services he offered. Payment was never something he asked but the account on board was drained as soon as it was credited.

It was spent here, and for all of the problems he created, the vendors liked him, and his business. The ship needed an economy, but they also had to keep a tidy house. N'tach had the good sense to retire before making a fool of himself usually, however it seemed this time there was a deeper problem.

=0= Othor to Starr, can you meet me at 12-B the noodle bar? We have a sensitive case here.

=0=On my way,=0= came the cold British voice over the comms. A few moments later, Simon was at the noodle bar at the Agora, and looked up to what was going on. Yelling, arguing, then silence but plenty of whispering.

The second story overlooked the middle grounds of the Agora, it wasn't far enough to do more than injure if you fell, but N'tach was clearly contemplating a jump. A banister railing waist high still stood to hold this dark ambition back, but there was no mistaking it when he lifted one leg over then another, leaning on the precarious edge past the banister.

Several patrons of the bar tried to speak to him, his only reply, "Leave me! Do not come closer!" Othor noticed the commotion on his walks around the courtyard, and hoped he could intervene. He began looking for options in the crowd as Simon made his way to the cafe.

Seeing that N'tach was standing there, and about to jump, Simon looked to see if he could find a way up carefully where he may not be able to see. As he heard N'tach say he was going to jump, the cold voice of Starr called out and over the gathering crowd. "And what would that achieve?" the voice asked coldly, the basey British accent almost booming across the nearby area. He then nodded towards his security personnel to get a net ready. The medbay didn't need something else to waste their time with, and he knew that at worst N'tach could injure himself. But it wasn't needed for the crew morale.

"This awful day would end, and so would I." Truth be told, N'tach had just gotten too drunk. He was crying out for help in the way Klingons do. Standing and looking down, he really had no desire to jump, but the fatalism in his core being was no less dangerous to his well being. For a Klingon to feel depression was an admission of weakness.

Othor watched Simons team get ready, medical already had someone stationed in the Agora and Othor spotted them running. He directed his stewards without words to clear the crowds. He also had to manage reputation, N'tach was a senior staff member. He gestured to Moxin, a nearby Steward directing people away. "Clear the deck and surrounding area, tell anyone who asks who or what that we don't know any names but have the situation in hand." Moxin understood and gottoit, bless the man.

He tapped his badge, =0= Steward Carroway, locate any Klingons on board, make sure they stay out of the Agora!

Another message from Judah prompted off the wall panel, and he resolved into focus, "No transporter available, I'm programming my emitters to catch the fall, but I need a second. Nurse Jannings is on her way! Only two Klingons on board, but I'm routing them.

Othor would have clapped a hand on the boys shoulder but Judah vanished. He relayed his message, =0=Simon... we cant lock on safely for a site to site. There's a nurse on standby behind you.

"Do we have a counsellor on board?" Simon asked. He knew this wasn't Starfleet, but knew that the demands of space were more than just physical. Spending a long time away from home, and returning back took weeks rather than days. It took it's toll on people. "They should be here too," he said quietly to the nurse behind him.

Yessenia Jannings was a maternity ward specialist, this was not her area of expertise. She shook her head, "I don't know."

He then looked up to N'Tach. "You know, from where you are, it won't end. It'll hurt, you'll be in sickbay, and back on duty in a few days. Let's be realistic. Besides, why do you want to end everything?" he asked, almost completely without emotion.

N'tach laughed derisively, " I am old, I must pee throughout the night and my knees always hurt. I have wanted to end everything for at least a decade. Let me be as I enjoy this view."

People had been pushed away, all that remained were a handful of deputies above and below. Othor kept his stewards back to support the security teams. He tried as well, speaking to N'tach from Simons side. "Please just listen, nobody wants to see you hurt. This can't be how you imagined the day would go is it?"

N'tach didn't look down back at him, but replied with "I have imagined many endings. Today, is a good day to die."

Kas came over the comm for both Othor and Simon,
=0= N'tach was just promoted to Chief Engineer, he didn't have a great first day, just get him to sickbay but under his own power. Captain will talk to him, but this has to end now or N'tach can't be trusted to hold this post.

Simon looked towards N'Tach seeing him shuffling and delaying, but not looking at anybody. That's when the Comm chirped and Kas spoke. He then had an idea.

"Where's the honor in taking your own life? How is that a good way to die? Would you want to almost certainly spend the rest of your existence in Gre'thor, having died a dishonorable death?" he said aggressively, almost like he was challenging him, trying to remind N'Tach of who he was, so that he would step away from the edge.

"What honor? I don't wish to take my life, but I cannot continue in this one. Starfleet has asked for my resignation, My Empire has spurned me. I served in ignominy only to wallow in this mud..."

As N'tach spoke, Othor had Judah confirm, "Judah, when did N'tach get a message from SB 214 most recently."

The panel showed a simple text communique, detailing N'tach was in violation of standing orders from the KDF exchange program, and under Captain Douglas recommendation faced a general discharge from both services. It had arrived only two hours ago.

Othor relayed that to Simon, the picture forming. The stewards told what had happened based on interviews, how N'tach had been in a foul mood but otherwise fine. A communique arrived for him, a fight broke out that was quickly quelled when N'tach agreed to leave. Othor reminded himself to speak to the Restaurants on board about over service.

N'tach continued, speaking to himself in a whisper. "...I chose to do what is right! I helped these people, and am castigated for it. Now I have nowhere, doomed to die where I work, replaced by a wage worker and forgotten."

If anybody knew the bureaucracy of Star Fleet and it getting in the way of doing what was right, Simon was all too familiar. "Breach of the prime directive?" the ex-officer asked casually, guessing as to what caused such a situation based on the information N'tach had offered.

Simon looked up towards him. "I get it. Star Fleet have regulations that get in the way of things. Remember, I was with them myself once," he said. "And then, when I was discharged from service, Beck took me in. The Second Star is not Star Fleet," he simply said to N'tach, trying to convince him that injuring himself over this wasn't worth it.

After all, if anybody knew what N'tach was going through, Simon had been fired from Star Fleet.

N'tach suddenly felt like a fool. This spectacle was unbecoming of him. The shame he felt for losing his mind such as this was worse than anything else. How would anyone look at him as anything than a sad fool. His thoughts swirled around a single point Simon made, "The Second Star is not Starfleet." N'tach had chosen to tell the truth, and made sure Starfleet committed to its oath. For this he was rejected. Starfleet didn't value his honor, but this ship did. Maybe that was enough, a foundation to build a new life upon.

He lifted himself one leg at a time back to the safe side of the railing, enormous shame overcoming him at the scene. Othor had cleared everyone else from the level, and gently approached from the side. His voice trailed, the intoxication catching up to him after the fever pitch of emotions had left him. He slurred a little as he spoke softly, "I have had too much to drink I think, I think I may..."

Othor didn't sneak, this was not an ambush but a gentle encroachment, the way a wounded creature elicits caution in their care.

Othor locked eyes with the Security Chief, awaiting his word. Simon had made a connection, N'tach was backing off the ledge!

As N'tach stepped away from the edge, seeing that he managed to find the problem that caused the outburst, he helped him down once he knew that he had come to his senses, but still approaching carefully as to not scare him.

When they had gotten away from the ledge Simon turned to N'Tach. "If you feel you need to speak to one, the ship does have a counsellor. And well, I'm always free to talk if you just need an ear," he said to the Klingon. "And, no more drinks for you today," he said. "We don't need another alert like that," Simon added as he made sure N'Tach was OK before leaving his side.

On the way out of the Agora he made his way to the bartender and said "If N'Tach asks for any more drinks, his hit his limit. I know Klingons can get a bit headstrong so if there are any problems then just give security a call," he said. Looking back towards the Agora once more, Simon made his way back to his office to do the paperwork that the incident caused.

Othor had a gentle hand guiding N'tach away from the scene. They shambled down the wayward path to the Agora lower levels, angling towards a Turbolift. N'tach said nothing, he felt shame now and he would awaken greatly shamed for this. Gently Othor took the time in the Turbolift to ask, "Will you be ok tonight, I can stay with you, share stories, the like?"

N'tach was beyond inebriated, but Klingons didn't really get sick from having too much to drink. Two livers and two stomachs has its advantages. He looked at Othor, a surprising amount of cognizance behind bloodshot eyes and grinned.

"Do not worry, A Klingon is ruled by their passions, and it is within our culture to be so dramatic."

"We want to make sure you are happy too, if there is something we can do-"

N'tach was adamant, and a door clsammed shut in his mind. "This... was just a bad night... I know you care to see me well, I am fine. I am fine."

Further conversation was heavily implied as unwelcome.

When the Turbolift doors opened, N'tach trundled towards the direction of his quarters on auto pilot, experience wearing a familiar route on dirty, boot scuffed floors. If he was aware of Othor just behind him, there was no sign of it. So the Betazoid followed, his heart and mind in concert to help a friend. The shambling man made it to the room only barely, slamming his hand on a doorpanel which was already shattered. The doors opened, and N'tach nearly collapsed directly onto the floor in a stupor.

Othor helped him to bed, covering him with a very nice silk robe which lay draped nearby. N'tach was asleep in moments, snoring loud enough to make ears ring in adjacent rooms. N'tach was lost, his whole life seemingly burnt by a bad career move. They had to create relevance for him, had to fulfill his Klingon need for conquest and battle. If a Klingon is not fighting, they are not breathing. Finding out what he would need was a challenge worth undertaking.

Othor sat bedside beside the snoring hulk, "Sleep well, dream of simpler times for now. When you awake, I will be here and the morning can bring us a new day."


-End-

Simon Starr- Chief of Security

N'tach - Chief Engineer

 

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