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Lt. Cmdr. Alexander Brodie - “Interlude: The Pen Is Mightier Than The Sword”


Alora DeVeau

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There are no gigantic explosions, no great heroic deeds, no mighty efforts.  This is  a simple but well written sim that gives insight into the character and help sets up the situation that character is about step into.  I appreciate @Alex Brodie's ability to make me care and connect with his character. 

 

((Brodie’s Quarters, Deck Five, USS Thor))

 

Brodie tossed his scribe onto the desk and leaned back. Two hours he’d been poring over legal texts and treaties and directives and it was giving him a headache. He knew the battle…and it was a battle…against Anroc wasn’t going to be easy and he needed to make sure that everything fell into place in the right way.

 

As he’d said to Kells, there couldn’t be any missteps with their people down there.

 

Firstly, there was Starfleet General Order One and its many, many, sub-orders. He’d dearly love to tear the entire subjugation culture of the Zet down, but it was their societal norm – it would amount to destabilising an established government.

 

Their mere presence had already violated it in part - the Zet were not warp capable. That said it could be argued that, while not a warp capable culture, they had travelled beyond their own world using technology at their disposal.

 

Providing technology was also frowned upon…as well as taking actions which supported one faction of society over another…he closed his eyes and saw the impact of the young Zet’s head on the wall…he clenched and unclenched his fists.

 

The Federation Charter also made caste systems illegal and, while that did not technically extend to the Zet, it would add an additional layer of complexity to matters when negotiating the release of technology.

 

The whole notion was really a non-starter…although Anroc didn’t need to know that.

 

He’d also looked over the documentation that had been provided ahead of the ‘negotiations’, he used the word advisedly, and he honestly hadn’t seen much in his years that had terrified him more.

 

Eternal life through some form of cloning process. He wondered if this was related technology to how the Vorta were created…extended…by the Dominion? They were in the Gamma Quadrant after all. Had this been one of Anroc’s acquisitions? He’d need to speak to Ivy about that but getting in-touch wouldn’t be possible out here.

 

But Eternal life? Who wanted that? Truly wanted it? He’d seen on Solace how it had led to a never-ending cycle – the prospect of living forever had meant the Nol-Ennis and the Ennis had never moved on from their civil war until Sulan had joined them. Why live forever if you don’t grow?

 

Then there was the issue of the haves and the have not – would everyone benefit? Or would you get a caste system like the Zet appeared to have. Free to those who could afford it and very expensive to those who couldn’t?

 

And finally, there would be those who would abuse it…because someone always did. Taking a peaceful ideal of, for example, eradicating disease and twisting it into a weapon of war or a tool of dominance.

 

He found he was pacing…he needed change anyway.

 

He opened one of the storage closets and pulled out his dress uniform – running his hand along the edge of the fabric. Anroc needed to see they were taking him seriously. They needed him to be comfortable, and feel like he was in control, but they also needed to project an illusion of authority so he would be prepared to treat them as more than mere ephemerals. This would help set them apart. He also hoped that, in their full regalia, Aron Kells might find some sense of his own identity as a Fleet Captain again. To play the part one had to look the part.

 

But then again…it might come across as a being braggish? Anroc would probably laugh at their pitiful attempt at bravado…and maybe Aron Kells would be reminded of darker times past?

 

As he pushed the jacket back into the locker his hand brushed against the sword that was hanging in its sheath. He still needed to arrange that fencing lesson with Teller – perhaps once this was over – he had some ideas. He took the blade from its hook and slid it free – the silver edge of the rapier glinting in the light. He moved through a few positions around his quarters – stepping one way then the other – like the upcoming confrontation with Anroc the footwork would be key to success.

 

He sheathed the weapon and hung it back up. Words, not weapons, were going to win the day here.

 

He hoped.

------------------------------------
Lt. Cmdr. Alexander Brodie
Chief Counselor
USS Thor NCC-82607
Writer ID.: A239005BM0

 

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