Interlude – Personal motivation
by Alderman Dorian Gabriel & Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin
Post Details
"Saurian Brandy" Dorian said in an impatient manner.
"Saurian Brandy, please." She replied. She recognized the stroppy security officer from the night of the bombs. She was prepared to forgive him then. She wasn't feeling so charitable today.
As the woman spoke Dorian held up his hand to stop her. "If I wanted to have a lesson on proper etiquette I'd still be sitting with that pedantic Executive Officer of ours or even worst, the half-breed Counselor we have stationed onboard" he replied in a gruff manner.
Ah. he was one of those. Well she'd dealt with enough of them on her troubles. She found a snifter, and poured a large measure of brandy into it. "Bottom's up."
Dorian quickly grasped the glass in his hand and pour the drink down his throat. He winced slightly as the liquid began to slowly cascade down his throat. He waited several moments until the sensation passed before he looked up at the woman. "Another." he stated
Ahh. Pursuit of oblivion. Never a good sign, and one she always fell for. She topped him up. "What's the problem?"
"My problems?" he asked rhetorically. "My problem is that I actually give a damn about the Federation enough to do something about those who threaten it." he replied bitterly.
"And no-one appreciates that?" She made it a question, but she could guess the answer. "Or are you getting a hard time because of it?"
"No one understands the reality that we live in." He responded. "Everybody thinks that the Federation is surrounded by happy and peace-loving governments who wish us well and hope to one day join our happy organization." He said as he reached for the glass. "For the most part, they do fit that description fairly well." he said as he downed the contents of the glass.
He paused for several moments as he let the drink make its way down his throat leaving a stinging after-taste. "But everybody else? They're like Veridian wolves, waiting for the slightest weakness to reveal itself so that it can strike, one portion at a time. A colony here, a planet there, little by little they'll strike and little by little we'll acquiesce to their demands simply to avoid the appearance of being a 'bully' or too 'dominating'. " he stated.
"So, what your saying is that the Federation would rather be slowly digested alive than look strong? That doesn't sound very smart. Why would they do that?"
"That. . .is a very interesting question." He replied.
He made a motion towards his glass as he could feel the affects of the drink beginning to take hold. "Another..." he said
She poured. "Does it have an interesting answer?"
"It has a tragic answer." He said as he took another drink. "The 'Powers that Be' are struggling to hold on to this utopia at no cost. They don't realize that to hold on to this little 'experiment' of ours that we have to be willing to do MORE than just defend what we have." he said as he began to playfully spin the glass in his hand.
"Such as?" she uncorked the bottle, almost half empty, ready for the expected refill request.
"In the past 20 years we have been challenged by the Borg, Cardassians, Dominion, Romulans, Klingons, and even the Breen." he listed. "What have we done in response? Aside from fight for our very existence, we send out diplomats and offer industrial-strength replicators to repair their shattered worlds." he said in a condescending tone.
"When we are attacked, we should strike back so hard that their retaliation is something that we shouldn't fear." He said as he stared at the empty glass before him. He pushed it with the tips of his fingers towards the woman to indicate that it was time for a re-fill.
She poured, and left the cork off this time. At this rate he'd be through the bottle in short order. "That doesn't sound very federation-like. I don't imagine a peacekeeping force has many options. What else can they do?"
"What should we have done? Well take the Borg for example. Their entire existence is focused on taking over all life in order to better its own existence. There is no compromise, not treaties or non-aggression pacts. You are either with them or against them. Quite frankly there is no room for such belligerence in the universe. Admiral Janeway and her crew should have eradicated their entire collective the first, second, and even third chance they had. But they didn't, and now we have the ever-looming threat of the Borg re-invading the Alpha quadrant." he said ruefully.
He was probably already too drunk to spot the irony there, and Yolanthe knew better than to point it out. She considered the situation. "And you sit here, twiddling your thumbs on what should be the front line, whilst everyone else is playing Best Friends Forever. That must be driving you crazy?"
He downed the drink and slammed the glass onto the counter forcefully. "Who the hell said I'm 'twiddling my thumbs'?" He said defensively. "I'll be damned if I sit by idly and watch as the Federation withers on the vine." he said as he slid the empty glass back in her direction.
Another two fingers' worth of Saurian brandy went in unasked for. She knew the rythmn of the drunken rant, and it was beginning to hit the crescendo. "So what are you going to do if you're not watching? Become a ship's captain, take the fight to the enemy?"
"The real power in starfleet is not the Captains." He said with slight smirk. "Ya see, they are only the workhorses of the fleet. Without them, the Federation couldn't protect nor expand its interest. No, the true power lies within the brass of Starfleet Command." Dorian said as he downed the drink in the same motion that had served him throughout the session.
And another large shot went in his glass. "But if you're making waves here, won't that harm your chances of getting promoted to that top brass?
"I'm not worried about that. You have to break a few shells to make a Terran omelet. Besides, Starfleet recognizes results, not hand-holders. How many Counselors have you seen within the brass?" he asked rhetorically. "My time here is preparing me for when I'm in a position to make a real difference with starfleet." he said swayed slightly in his chair.
She moved around the bar and took the stool next to him, keeping the bottle to hand. "And what difference would that be?"
He downed the drink and paused for several moments while the drink subsided within him. "Whatever difference is necessary for Starfleet to become strong enough to face any futue threat without having to rely on anybody else in this quadrant. People should be begging US to defend them." He said as he downed his second shot.
"Like that old saying goes: Diplomacy is knowing how to say 'nice doggy' while reaching for a big stick. Starfleet needs to be in control of all the big sticks in the quadrant." He smiled.
Yolanthe could only describer her grasp of political theory as shaky, and what Gabriel was saying suggested only one conclusion to her. "So what you're saying is that to keep the UFP safe, you want to make it the most militarised, and the most dangerous entity in the galaxy?" She topped him up again. The bottle was down by nearly two thirds now. "Possibly whilst no-one notices?"
Dorian looked at her with a quizical look on his face. ". . .'militarized'. . .'dangerous', where did you grow up? On Risa?" he asked half-heartedly. "Step out of your holo-deck and join us in the real world, sweetie," He said mockingly.
"People like you always want to cry about the military and it having too much power, but then when a foreign enemy attacks your shipping lines, or invades your colonies, SUDDENLY you cry out for us to send in our fleets to save the day." He said bitterly.
"An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. Starfleet is the best way to protect the Federation's current and potentional interest." He said as he grabbed the bottle from her hand and refilled his own glass.
"I plan on securing those interest by securing our boarders. If the Romulans wish to exist as enemies instead of living as allies to us, then so be it. We'll increase the fortification of the Neutral Zone. Full upgrade to planetary defenses of various worlds such as Earth, Betazed, and even Bajor. Not to mention the COMPLETE support and funding of the Prometheus-class project." He said as he consumed his drink and poured another glass.
"Wolf 359, Bassen Rift, the Dominion War, all of these happened because we were caught off guard and lulled into a false sense of confidence. If our enemeies want diplomacy, fine, we have officers trained for that. But they must know the consequenses of refusing our olive branch of peace." He said as he finished the bottle by pouring the remaining contents into his glass.
"Otherwise, we're nothing more than a stationary target." he said as he finished his last glass and pushed himself away from the bar and began to stagger towards the door.
She was so suprised he could still stand after that much booze in so short time he was halfway to the exit before she realised he hadn't paid. "That's a strip of latinum for the brandy," She called after him. Listening to drunken ranting is on the house.
"Put it on my tab!" he shouted back as he made his way through the crowd and out of the door.
Lieutenant Commander
Dorian Gabriel
Chief of Security
Yolanthe Ibalin
Owner & Bartender, The Box of Delights
by Alderman Dorian Gabriel & Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin
Post Details
| Title | Personal motivation | |
| Mission | Interlude | |
| Author(s) | Alderman Dorian Gabriel & Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin | |
| Posted | Sun Jun 20, 2010 @ 10:18pm | |
| Location | Box of Delights | |
| Timeline | Sometime after his suspension from duty |
"Saurian Brandy, please." She replied. She recognized the stroppy security officer from the night of the bombs. She was prepared to forgive him then. She wasn't feeling so charitable today.
As the woman spoke Dorian held up his hand to stop her. "If I wanted to have a lesson on proper etiquette I'd still be sitting with that pedantic Executive Officer of ours or even worst, the half-breed Counselor we have stationed onboard" he replied in a gruff manner.
Ah. he was one of those. Well she'd dealt with enough of them on her troubles. She found a snifter, and poured a large measure of brandy into it. "Bottom's up."
Dorian quickly grasped the glass in his hand and pour the drink down his throat. He winced slightly as the liquid began to slowly cascade down his throat. He waited several moments until the sensation passed before he looked up at the woman. "Another." he stated
Ahh. Pursuit of oblivion. Never a good sign, and one she always fell for. She topped him up. "What's the problem?"
"My problems?" he asked rhetorically. "My problem is that I actually give a damn about the Federation enough to do something about those who threaten it." he replied bitterly.
"And no-one appreciates that?" She made it a question, but she could guess the answer. "Or are you getting a hard time because of it?"
"No one understands the reality that we live in." He responded. "Everybody thinks that the Federation is surrounded by happy and peace-loving governments who wish us well and hope to one day join our happy organization." He said as he reached for the glass. "For the most part, they do fit that description fairly well." he said as he downed the contents of the glass.
He paused for several moments as he let the drink make its way down his throat leaving a stinging after-taste. "But everybody else? They're like Veridian wolves, waiting for the slightest weakness to reveal itself so that it can strike, one portion at a time. A colony here, a planet there, little by little they'll strike and little by little we'll acquiesce to their demands simply to avoid the appearance of being a 'bully' or too 'dominating'. " he stated.
"So, what your saying is that the Federation would rather be slowly digested alive than look strong? That doesn't sound very smart. Why would they do that?"
"That. . .is a very interesting question." He replied.
He made a motion towards his glass as he could feel the affects of the drink beginning to take hold. "Another..." he said
She poured. "Does it have an interesting answer?"
"It has a tragic answer." He said as he took another drink. "The 'Powers that Be' are struggling to hold on to this utopia at no cost. They don't realize that to hold on to this little 'experiment' of ours that we have to be willing to do MORE than just defend what we have." he said as he began to playfully spin the glass in his hand.
"Such as?" she uncorked the bottle, almost half empty, ready for the expected refill request.
"In the past 20 years we have been challenged by the Borg, Cardassians, Dominion, Romulans, Klingons, and even the Breen." he listed. "What have we done in response? Aside from fight for our very existence, we send out diplomats and offer industrial-strength replicators to repair their shattered worlds." he said in a condescending tone.
"When we are attacked, we should strike back so hard that their retaliation is something that we shouldn't fear." He said as he stared at the empty glass before him. He pushed it with the tips of his fingers towards the woman to indicate that it was time for a re-fill.
She poured, and left the cork off this time. At this rate he'd be through the bottle in short order. "That doesn't sound very federation-like. I don't imagine a peacekeeping force has many options. What else can they do?"
"What should we have done? Well take the Borg for example. Their entire existence is focused on taking over all life in order to better its own existence. There is no compromise, not treaties or non-aggression pacts. You are either with them or against them. Quite frankly there is no room for such belligerence in the universe. Admiral Janeway and her crew should have eradicated their entire collective the first, second, and even third chance they had. But they didn't, and now we have the ever-looming threat of the Borg re-invading the Alpha quadrant." he said ruefully.
He was probably already too drunk to spot the irony there, and Yolanthe knew better than to point it out. She considered the situation. "And you sit here, twiddling your thumbs on what should be the front line, whilst everyone else is playing Best Friends Forever. That must be driving you crazy?"
He downed the drink and slammed the glass onto the counter forcefully. "Who the hell said I'm 'twiddling my thumbs'?" He said defensively. "I'll be damned if I sit by idly and watch as the Federation withers on the vine." he said as he slid the empty glass back in her direction.
Another two fingers' worth of Saurian brandy went in unasked for. She knew the rythmn of the drunken rant, and it was beginning to hit the crescendo. "So what are you going to do if you're not watching? Become a ship's captain, take the fight to the enemy?"
"The real power in starfleet is not the Captains." He said with slight smirk. "Ya see, they are only the workhorses of the fleet. Without them, the Federation couldn't protect nor expand its interest. No, the true power lies within the brass of Starfleet Command." Dorian said as he downed the drink in the same motion that had served him throughout the session.
And another large shot went in his glass. "But if you're making waves here, won't that harm your chances of getting promoted to that top brass?
"I'm not worried about that. You have to break a few shells to make a Terran omelet. Besides, Starfleet recognizes results, not hand-holders. How many Counselors have you seen within the brass?" he asked rhetorically. "My time here is preparing me for when I'm in a position to make a real difference with starfleet." he said swayed slightly in his chair.
She moved around the bar and took the stool next to him, keeping the bottle to hand. "And what difference would that be?"
He downed the drink and paused for several moments while the drink subsided within him. "Whatever difference is necessary for Starfleet to become strong enough to face any futue threat without having to rely on anybody else in this quadrant. People should be begging US to defend them." He said as he downed his second shot.
"Like that old saying goes: Diplomacy is knowing how to say 'nice doggy' while reaching for a big stick. Starfleet needs to be in control of all the big sticks in the quadrant." He smiled.
Yolanthe could only describer her grasp of political theory as shaky, and what Gabriel was saying suggested only one conclusion to her. "So what you're saying is that to keep the UFP safe, you want to make it the most militarised, and the most dangerous entity in the galaxy?" She topped him up again. The bottle was down by nearly two thirds now. "Possibly whilst no-one notices?"
Dorian looked at her with a quizical look on his face. ". . .'militarized'. . .'dangerous', where did you grow up? On Risa?" he asked half-heartedly. "Step out of your holo-deck and join us in the real world, sweetie," He said mockingly.
"People like you always want to cry about the military and it having too much power, but then when a foreign enemy attacks your shipping lines, or invades your colonies, SUDDENLY you cry out for us to send in our fleets to save the day." He said bitterly.
"An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. Starfleet is the best way to protect the Federation's current and potentional interest." He said as he grabbed the bottle from her hand and refilled his own glass.
"I plan on securing those interest by securing our boarders. If the Romulans wish to exist as enemies instead of living as allies to us, then so be it. We'll increase the fortification of the Neutral Zone. Full upgrade to planetary defenses of various worlds such as Earth, Betazed, and even Bajor. Not to mention the COMPLETE support and funding of the Prometheus-class project." He said as he consumed his drink and poured another glass.
"Wolf 359, Bassen Rift, the Dominion War, all of these happened because we were caught off guard and lulled into a false sense of confidence. If our enemeies want diplomacy, fine, we have officers trained for that. But they must know the consequenses of refusing our olive branch of peace." He said as he finished the bottle by pouring the remaining contents into his glass.
"Otherwise, we're nothing more than a stationary target." he said as he finished his last glass and pushed himself away from the bar and began to stagger towards the door.
She was so suprised he could still stand after that much booze in so short time he was halfway to the exit before she realised he hadn't paid. "That's a strip of latinum for the brandy," She called after him. Listening to drunken ranting is on the house.
"Put it on my tab!" he shouted back as he made his way through the crowd and out of the door.
Lieutenant Commander
Dorian Gabriel
Chief of Security
Yolanthe Ibalin
Owner & Bartender, The Box of Delights