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[Round 2] Ensign Fargit - Poor Little Fellow


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((Peripheral Counseling Centre 3-B, StarBase 118))

::Fargit burst out of the turbolift running at full speed -- or, what counted as

full speed for dyspeptic Tellarites. When he arrived in his office, he was

already ten minutes late.::

::A beautiful Bajoran woman sat quietly on the couch, a fine silver earring

draped elegantly along one ear. She looked up at Fargit when he burst into the

room, her eyes mildly curious in the way of habitually melancholy people. As if

she hoped this intrusion would be the thing that turned her life around, but

without the expectation that her hope would ever be fulfilled. She wore civilian

garb of a totally ordinary sort. After inspecting Fargit for no more than a few

seconds, the woman turned her head toward the only darkened corner of the room.

Fargit let his eyes follow the Bajoran's gaze.::

::Standing there, her back to the rest of the room, was the tallest woman Fargit

had ever seen. She seemed to be making some pretense of perusing the titles on

Fargit's bookshelf -- titles that had been placed there by StarBase Counseling,

and which Fargit had never even tried to read -- and of ignoring the noise

Fargit had made when he burst into the office, as well as the noise he was

making now, breathing so hard that, with each inhalation, he snorted a little.::

Fargit: Well, let's get started then.

::The Bajoran woman nodded, turning from Fargit to the other woman, somewhat


::The other woman turned toward the Tellarite counselor, slowly, as if she had

all the time in the world. As if her fifty-minute hour wasn't already one-fifth


::That's when Fargit remembered that this was a session for a married couple.

That one of the spouses was a Bajoran. And that the other, her wife, was ... not

a Bajoran.::

::The Lieutenant's pips stood out against the gold, black, and gray of the

standing woman's Starfleet uniform. The collar of the uniform did not close in

the typical Starfleet fashion, but was cut wider to accommodate the Lieutenant's

significant neck ridges. The ridges continued up her face to form a teardrop

shape on her forehead -- a shape that, Fargit noticed, was emulated somewhat in

the design of the Bajoran's earring.::

::It would have been a beautiful gesture, even by Tellarite standards, if it

hadn't been inspired by a Cardassian.::

K. Nul: Yes, let's.

::The Cardassian woman walked slowly to the couch and sat beside the Bajoran.

She moved her hand in the Bajoran's direction, and the Bajoran pressed her palm

gently against the Cardassian's. Both then turned in Fargit's direction -- the

Cardassian having to turn her full upper body to meet the Tellarite's

unbelieving eyes.::

K. Nul: I am Lieutenant Keratha Nul. ::She nodded sideways in the Bajoran's

direction.:: This is Nul Serise, my wife.

Nul S.: Hello.

::Fargit's mouth had been open long enough for a long spindle of drool to fall

into his lap. Keratha smiled condescendingly; Serise, sympathetically. They were

both thinking the same thing, however.::

oO Poor little fellow. Oo

Fargit: Huh.

::There was something of a long silence.::

K. Nul: Perhaps you would like us to explain to you why we're here?

::Fargit nodded.::

Fargit: Yes. I mean, how do a Cardassian and a Bajoran get together? It's the

strangest thing I've seen since --

::Keratha smiled that inimitable Cardassian smile.::

K. Nul: I meant, perhaps you would like us to explain why we scheduled an

appointment to see a Starfleet counselor.

::Fargit grunted.::

Fargit: Oh. Yes. Of course.

K. Nul: We want to have children.

::Fargit's eyes grew wide.::

Fargit: You do?

::Serise nodded.::

Nul S.: Yes. Very much so.

Fargit: Well ... it seems you were misinformed. I don't have any here.

::Keratha and Serise both chuckled quietly. Fargit, however, hadn't been


K. Nul: Of course not, Counselor ...

Fargit: Fargit. Counselor Fargit.

::Keratha nodded.::

K. Nul: Yes. Counselor Fargit. We're not looking to take any of your children --

Nul S.: Prophets no!

K. Nul: -- as adorable as they might be.

::The thought of young Tellarites disgusted Keratha almost as much as the fully

grown Tellarite sitting there before them. But she didn't let her disgust show.

There were plenty of disgusting Federation species with whom, as a Starfleet

officer, she had found a way to deal. This Tellarite was no different.::

::Her eyes then drifted to the slowly drying pool of saliva -- slightly brown --

on the Counselor's trouser leg.::

::So. Perhaps this Tellarite was a little different. But nothing she couldn't


Nul S.: Yes, of course. ::Break.:: We've already arranged matters with StarBase

118 Medical. They're going to help us -- I think -- to have a child who is our

very own.

K. Nul: Genetically, that is.

Fargit: That's ... lovely.

Nul S.: Thank you for saying so.

::Keratha grimaced.::

K. Nul: Yes. You're too kind.

Fargit: So, what do you need a Counselor for?

::Fargit thought he might be able to get out of this craziness rather easily. If

they didn't have problems, they didn't need Fargit.::

Nul S.: We fought for months over who would carry the child. ::She smiled,

sheepishly.:: I won.

K. Nul: My Starfleet duties seemed not to be as well suited to pregnancy as

Serise's responsibilities at -- what is it you're calling it now, my dear?

Nul S.: The Little Shop of Sundaes. ::She turned toward Fargit.:: Catchy, don't

you think?

::Fargit groaned.::

Fargit: Indeed. ::Break.:: So ...

Nul S.: Now we're fighting again.

Fargit: About who's to carry the child?

K. Nul: No. About whether to engage in Cardassian or Bajoran birthing


::Serise corrected her wife.::

Nul S.: Rituals, Kera. They're rituals. "Techniques" makes it sound so ...


K. Nul: Cardassian birthing techniques are sterile. They're supposed to be

sterile. Babies need sterile. ::She turned to Fargit.:: Don't they, Counselor?

::Both Keratha and Serise looked to Fargit, waiting for his answer. Fargit

didn't know what to do. He'd never been faced with such a choice before --

having to disagree with a Cardassian, or to disagree with a Cardassian's wife.

Fargit loved disagreement -- he thrived on it, it was his culture and heritage

-- but he had the distinct impression that Keratha Nul regarded him in the same

way he had been regarding that spider earlier on the Promenade.::

Fargit: I --

::There was a beep, coming from the direction of the Cardassian. Keratha lifted

a padd and read through something very quickly.::

Nul S.: What is it?

::Keratha frowned. Fargit prepared to be eaten.::

K. Nul: Orders. ::She turned to Serise.:: I've got to go.

Nul S.: No -- really?

K. Nul: Yes, really. ::She pressed her palm to Serise's again, the Cardassian

equivalent of a peck on the cheek, then stood and turned to Fargit.:: I

apologize, Counselor. Perhaps some other time.

Fargit: Yes -- yes, of course.

::He was still surprised he wasn't going to be eaten.::

K. Nul: Serise, darling, why don't you stay here and chat with Counselor Fargit.

Give him a sense of our situation, so that we can make more progress next time.

::She paused.:: There will be a next time, won't there, Counselor?

::Fargit nodded more vigorously than was strictly necessary. He looked for a

moment as if his head were going to fall right off -- a state of affairs Keratha

wasn't entirely sure would disappoint her.::

Fargit: Mm-hmm.

::Keratha smiled.::

K. Nul: Excellent. Goodbye, Counselor. ::She turned to Serise.:: Take good care

of my wife.

::Serise was still smiling, and Fargit still trying to formulate a response,

when the door slid closed behind Keratha. Then there was another brief period of


Nul S.: So. Where should we get started?

TBC ...

Ensign Fargit


StarBase 118 Ops


Lieutenant Keratha Nul

Engineering Officer

StarBase 118 Ops


Nul Serise


StarBase 118

All simmed by Solok

Edited by Whale
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