ASSIGNED TO TASK FORCE 37 OF PEGASUS FLEET
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Art of Diplomacy

Posted on Fri Jul 17th, 2020 @ 3:15pm by Lieutenant Commander William Rogers & Lieutenant Odan Tran

Mission: Into The Delta Triangle
Location: Tran's Temporary Office
Timeline: Backpost

Buck had been told that it would be good for him to go and get to know the new diplomatic liaison. Given the role he played during the incident with the Ts'Usugi ship the captain thought he could use a little more polish when it came to diplomacy. He couldn't really deny it: Even after fourteen years he was still a product of the era he was raised in.

Standing outside the door to the diplomatic corps office Buck took a deep breath and knocked.

The white haired elderly Varro sat nestled in his chair, his chin was lowered and nuzzled into his chest. His breath was deep as the sounds of his gentle snores fluttered about his temporary office. The older he got the less he slept, he had become something of an insomniac over the years. When he felt the urge for sleep, he warmly embraced it because the mood was rare and far inbetween. Tran had secured a full ten minutes before the knock startled him out of his slumber. His eyes bounced open and unbeknownst to him, his elbow struck a button on a nearby console. Within seconds, a song began to blare out over the computer’s auto outputs:

“Never gonna give you up,
Never gonna let you down,
Never gonna run around and desert you,
Never gonna make you cry…”


“Oh my…” Tran called out as he blinked his eyes as his senses slowly drifted back to him. “Enter please!” He shouted out and hoped his visitor would hear him over the sound of the music. He immediately rose to his feet, his frame small and fragile with his age. His fingers started to move all over the console as he tried to stop the sound.

Buck's ears picked out the sounds of Tran's voice amid the burst of noise that suddenly flooded from the office. He stepped through the doors, blinking slightly at the sight of the aged Lieutenant frantically tapping away at the console. Difficulty getting the hang of the LCRS was something he could relate to. "Need a hand?"

Tran lifted his head and a warm smile welcomed the man, “I wouldn’t mind! Thank you!” Tran pushed back from the console to let the officer in behind his desk. Tran had not expected to still be on the Astraea; but, his situation had changed and here he was. He was happy to be doing his part in a universe where the only constant was change. He had learned many years ago - always have a plan and always be willing to change it.

The Varro began to move his shoulders a little, the music had slowly and surely began to work into his body. He admittingly thought the song wasn’t that bad. Thought the volume was not to his taste; but, he was certainly no longer tired, his eyelids had shed all their weight. Tran considered for a moment that may this song wouldn’t have been a terrible idea for an morning alarm - though he certainly never needed one.

Buck stepped around the side of the desk and reached across to the control panel. Over a foot taller and almost twice the weight of the Varro, the commander found the space behind the desk to be getting a little cramped. "Fan of 'classical' music?" He asked as his fingers danced their way through the menus required to shut off the tune. He'd have considered it contemporary, but that was four centuries past and so he reluctantly used this century's naming convention.

“Thank you so much! I cannot say I am much of an expert in Earth’s musical works,” he walked over to a nearby table which was wedged between two chairs. He took a seat, his wall mounted replicator still in his reach. “Make yourself at home, sit wherever you like, can I get your anything?” He motioned his hand around, his smile never unwavered. “My deepest apologies, I didn’t even catch your name. I am Lieutenant Odan Tran, how can I be of service?" One can never make a second first impression, so this one would have to do, thought Tran.

Buck followed Tran to the table and settled himself in the opposite chair. "William Rogers." He said, leaning forward slightly and extending his hand. "Captain Laurens would like me to get a bit of diplomatic polish and she figured you're the man to learn it from."

Tran shook the man’s hand with a nod, his eyes narrowed in a friendly sort of way, nothing about the Varro seemed alarming, he was an open book. “Oh my, your dear Captain has placed a lot of stock in me, hopefully I don’t disappoint.” He leaned back in his chair and pondered for a moment, “I’m not sure what I can teach you; but, what I can do is share what I learned along my way, over the past eight decade of my life.” Tran placed his hand over his chest, “As a sentient lifeform, I have accepted that it is my job in life to help everyone realize how rare and valuable they truly are. That each of one of us has something that no one else has, or will ever have. That there is something inside of us that is unique to only us. It is therefore our job to encourage each other to discover that uniqueness and to provide ways of developing its expression. Diplomacy is about caring, kindness, patience, tolerance, optimism, joy, confidence, and the ability to give without undue thought of gain. But, you know that none of this can be taught, at least not to a grown man. And, I don’t want to tell you what to do; but, I know that it is really easy to fall into the trap of believing that what we do is more important than what we are. Of course, only the complete opposite is true, what we are ultimately determines what we do.” Tran tilted his head slightly, “So tell me Mr. Rogers, what - who are you?”

There was a lot to take in there. It certainly didn't sound like any diplomacy Buck was familiar with. "Always thought diplomacy was about trying to get the stuff you wanted while making the other dude think he was getting the better deal. But who am I?" He shook his head and shrugged slightly. "I dunno. Just some guy from Brooklyn, I guess."

“Simply put, as you earthlings say… You catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar,” Tran turned toward the replicator, “What can you tell me about this Brooklyn?… Are you sure I cannot get you a drink?” The old Varro turned back to the man.

"Right. Yes. Black coffee, please." The other man replied. "Brooklyn's a borough in New York city. It was dirty; full of crime - the whole city was - the area I grew up in was one of the worst for that: an industrial centre fallen on hard times."

Tran reached towards the replicator and two coffees materialized, he carefully handed one cup to the man. “Crime on Earth? Forgive me… there is certainly a piece of your story I haven’t heard yet.” He licked his lips and then took a sip of his coffee. “I am only temporarily assigned to the Astraea, a simple traveller really. I have not had the opportunity to brush up on everyone’s story yet.” Tran motioned his hand toward Rogers, “Anyway, it is always far better to meet new people, and not learn about them in some file…” His eyes narrowed, “I bet you have an interesting story to tell…” Tran settled in like a child ready for a nighttime story.

"I suppose so." Buck replied, looking into the black pool of liquid in his cup. He swirled it around a few times before he continued. "I was born on Earth at the back end 1960s. 1968. About six months before The Moon Landing. Grew up in the worst part of the worst city in US. Joined the military as part of an experimental genetic modification program when I was 22. Fought in the Eugenics Wars. Became a test pilot after the war and eventually joined the space program. Mission to the outer planets went wrong and left me adrift in space for three and a half centuries. Fished out of the ice by Starfleet, took the Federation to court so I could join up. And here I am."

Tran blinked, "Well... well... that is certainly a story if I ever heard one! I knew from the moment you walked in the door that you had an interesting story, now here we are." Tran did not understand much of the historical references the man spoke of, but he could certainly understand the complexity of his words and his linage. "You were plucked from your world, that must have taken some adjustment." Tran lifted his eyebrow playfully, "And here I thought I was the old man in the room. It is a great honour of mine to meet you sir, to meet a man from the 1960s... How interesting..."

Buck laughed, although he was a little uncertain as to how this was supposed to help him be more diplomatic. "It was definitely an adjustment. A lot changed while I was frozen."

Tran simply nodded, "Life is funny you know? Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards." Tran finished up his coffee, "I hope some day you will give me a little history lesson about Earth, and this Brooklyn, and Moon Landing... I bet from your perspective a lot has changed, and a lot still has stayed the same." Tran shrugged in the most polite way, "I probably didn't help you much in the way of developing your diplomacy skills. The Art of Diplomacy is tricky... but it starts from appreciating ourselves, and seeing everything and everyone as entities which are as important as ourselves. I have found that a little love... a little caring... a little understanding... and a little kindness often solves more problems than traditional diplomacy..."

"I'm sure we can work something out." Buck replied. "I could use schooling on traditional diplomacy too."

"Traditional diplomacy was for a traditional time, like you... we have transitioned into something new..." Tran smiled, "You will always be welcomed into my office, I can't promise you'll learn anything - but, I'll ensure you don't forget anything you already know..." A small belly laugh erupted in Tran's belly.


 

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