Fic: Diplomatic Niceties
Sep. 28th, 2011 07:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jeriendhalNez the Wazagan from The Summer Intern comes under some pressure from home. A disconnected bit from a larger sequel I'll write later.
When she got off duty from the Veracious's sickbay, Nez went her quarters and switched out of her uniform and into her best blouse, skirt and leggings, then dug out her dark blue hijab and wrapped it over her head and around her face, in a long practiced pattern that left her ears free. She wiggled them slightly as she pinned the cloth in place. She had gotten out of the habit of wearing it while on Newspring, which she supposed she should admit to her imam the next time she met him. The rainforest that composed most of the Ferin Autonomous Region was perpetually hot and humid, which had made it sweaty and uncomfortable most of the time she'd been training there. Plus the innocent nudity that most ferin favored tended to make her feel overdressed under the best of circumstances. It had helped, she admitted to herself, that the nearest other observant Muslims had been several tens of lightyears away.
She crossed through the personnel lock and onto the station, feeling conspicuous among the human throngs that she hadn't in the past two years on Newspring, despite being equally a stranger there. She stood off to one side and linked her palmcomp to the station's computer system, downloading the local schematics and instructing it to guide her to the Wazagan Consulate. Curling her tail around her legs to keep it from being accidentally stepped on, she made her way down the wide passage of the main corridor, turning off onto a narrower side access where she found the Consulate entrance, its sign written in Old Wazagan, Galactic Standard and Arabic.
Stepping into the compact consulate was a balm to her nerves. Instead of the chill of the human station's corridors, she was greeted by the warm, dry air of the homeworld. The walls were painted bright white, with squared off geometric patterns painted with thin red lines near the ceiling and her toe claws clicked on the inlaid tiles that lined the floor as she approached the human receptionist manning the front desk.
"Neziha of Brightscale Clan to see Ambassador Haroun," she said to the receptionist. "I have an appointment."
"Yes, ma'am. The ambassador is expecting you," the receptionist replied. Nez was waved into the inner office, where she found Ambassador Haroun sitting behind his desk looking over a display screen. He was a wazagan male of late years, his hair stark white and drawn into a heavy braid that traveled down his back to the base of his tail, his scales so dark purple as be nearly black. He was dressed in conservative robes, the cross at his throat marking him as a member of the Christian half of Wazaga Prime's population.
Haroun looked up from his screen as she entered, standing up and stepping around the desk to greet her with a slight bow. "God be with you, child," he said, his voice age scratched but warm.
"And the Prophet with you, wise elder," she replied, bowing more deeply to him.
"Please, be seated," Ambassdor Haroun said, waving her over to a more informal corner of the room, marked by a pair embroidered couches and a coffee table. He touched a button at his desk, "Marcia, would you bring us tea, please?"
"Yes, Ambassador," the receptionist replied. She brought in a tray, probably prepared just prior to Nez's arrival, with two cups and a pot with the alkaline heavy tea wazagans favored. The Ambassador poured a cup for Nez, and she accepted it along with a lump of honey sugar.
When the human had left, Haroun took a long sip of his tea, then said, "You're a long way from home, child."
"As you are, elder," Nez replied politely. "I go where my studies must take me."
"And I go where my duty lies," he replied. He smiled ruefully. "Though I'll admit this post is more remote than I am accustomed to. Our people do not travel out this way often, and require my humble consulate's services even less."
Nez sighed in agreement. "I've been living on Newspring in the Ferin Autonomous Region for almost two years. This is the first time I've had a chance to speak to someone from home face to face since I left for my internship."
"You're something of a celebrity back home, did you know?" the Ambassador asked. "That incident with the slavers, and the very dramatic rescue of those little ferin, all very exciting. You've attracted much attention in certain circles."
"I really didn't do anything," she replied. "Mostly I just followed my roommate Nan until the rangers showed up to arrest everyone." She left out the incident where she had dropped from the trees to land on one slaver who had been about to participate in the gang rape of a ferin doe. She'd ended up breaking his neck when she fell on top of him. Whether or not he'd deserved it, murder was a sin and a violation of her own healer's oaths. It wasn't something she was proud of.
"You're too modest," he said. "You did that, and now you're the assistant medical officer aboard the first ferin starship. You're doing extraordinarily well."
"Thank you, sir," Nez said, trying suppress a blush.
"Actually, the latter point is why I asked you to come here today. You're in a strange position actually, one of only two non-ferin aboard the Veracious, am I correct?"
"Yes, Ambassador," Nez agreed. "My roommate Nan is the other one. She's a vulpine hired by the First One to be his personal assistant."
"An extraordinary act of trust on the part of the First Free Ferin, wouldn't you say?"
Nez shrugged. "He likes Nan, even if most of the time he growls at her. That and he was pretty appreciative of us helping to rescue those kidnapped ferin. I suppose assigning me to the Veracious was my reward."
"It must be interesting to see the First One in such close proximity," he said, leaning forward slightly in his chair, the tea forgotten in his hand.
Nez took a sip, trying to form an answer. "I don't honestly see him that much. Nan works with him closely of course, so I usually get to hear her side of things though."
"She trust you enough to speak openly in front of you?"
"Well, yes," Nez admitted, wondering where the conversation was going. "We're practically clan-sibs at this point." Almost a bit closer, given their healer-patient relationship. She'd seen Nan at her most vulnerable, as the vulpine struggled to regain the use of her legs, after being paralyzed from wounds received during the rescue of the ferin.
"That's good to know." The Ambassador paused, taking a long, contemplative sip of his tea. "I ask this because we have had a... request... from the Human Federation. They are very interested in the Veracious' journey, and the First One's intentions for her. They would like to hear your views on the matter. In detail."
"I... don't think the First One would be pleased by that idea." Actually she was pretty sure the First One would be furious. It had been the Human Federation's founders that had led the near annihilation of the ferin during the Twenty Years War, when the humans had rebelled against the Varn Dominion that had tried to conquer them, helping to free the rest of the Varn's subjects from their tyrannical rule. The ferin had been targeted because of their extraordinary ability to generate Bion, a biological form of energy that the Varn had used to power their empire. Genetically engineered slaves, the ferin hadn't any choice in the matter. Indeed, they had almost no free will at all, being subject to the orders of whatever master they had imprinted on at a young age.
That hadn't mattered to the humans however, who had wiped them nearly out, only a small colony on a seemingly empty world escaping their attention. There the ferin had lived for nearly five hundred years, free from any sort of master. When that colony had been rediscovered however, the Federation had been quick to steal many of the ferin living there away, to make them slaves once again, while the vulpine also took many as well, creating a home for them on Newspring where they could live in peace.
"I don't believe informing the First One would be a very good idea," the Ambassador said. "To be dreadfully honest, Neziha, the Federation is not at all happy about the ferin having an armed warship at their disposal. And the fact that a wazagan is among the crew of that vessel makes them rather unhappy with us."
"The Veracious is an exploration vessel," she said. "It's armed because it's going into unexplored territory. And I'm a xenomedico trained in ferin medicine. I'd have been a fool to turn down the chance to serve aboard the first ship crewed completely by ferin."
"I understand that," the ambassador said in a calming tone. "It would be helpful to us if you could make the Federation understand as well."
"Sir, I'm in a position of trust on that ship," Nez said. "As a physician I'm doubly bound not to violate that trust. And the Federation has demonstrated that they don't care about what's good for the ferin, only what's good for humans. It's hard to even find a human who thinks of ferin as people, outside the Ferin Rescue Society."
Ambassador Haroun looked pained. "Actually, the Ferin Rescue Society is part of the problem. The Federation Security Council is on the verge of declaring them a terrorist group. I'm afraid the recent incident on Brightstone has them extremely concerned."
"Oh, that's ridiculous!" she exclaimed. "The FRS is committed to peaceful solutions!"
"The FRS is heavily supported by the Vulpine Farmer Lords. They are also a small but growing influence back on Wazaga Prime, much the Federation's dismay."
"If the Federation is dismayed by people helping ferin, maybe they should look closer at their own house!" Nez said angrily, half rising from her seat.
Haroun looked at her sternly, motioning for her to sit back down. "Child, you don't understand the seriousness of the situation. We, the wazagan as a whole, are not a in a position to dictate terms to the Human Federation. We are dependent on them for extra-solar defense and escort of our cargo vessels between systems. Yes, the Ferin Problem is an affront, both to ourselves personally and to God's will. But we are in no real position to argue the point."
"Our people may not be, but I certainly am," Nez said, her tail lashing. "I refuse to give any information to the Federation."
Amabassador Haroun's expression darkened. "I'm afraid you response has been anticipated. I've been told to inform you that if you refuse the Federation's request, your name will be placed on their Security List, and your right to travel outside of the Wazagan system will be revoked."
"What!" she exclaimed. "They can't do that without cause! It's a violation to the Treaty of Free Passage."
"Nevertheless, it will be done. I'm sorry, Neziha."
She paused. To be restricted to Wazaga Prime her entire life, never to leave, never to use her hardwon xenomed skills outside of perhaps the Capitol Hospital, would not only be an insult to the effort and expense her clan had placed to her education, but....
I want see the stars.
"I... I have to think about this, sir," she said weakly, feeling sick to her stomach.
"Not too long," the ambassador replied. "We will speak again tomorrow."
When she got off duty from the Veracious's sickbay, Nez went her quarters and switched out of her uniform and into her best blouse, skirt and leggings, then dug out her dark blue hijab and wrapped it over her head and around her face, in a long practiced pattern that left her ears free. She wiggled them slightly as she pinned the cloth in place. She had gotten out of the habit of wearing it while on Newspring, which she supposed she should admit to her imam the next time she met him. The rainforest that composed most of the Ferin Autonomous Region was perpetually hot and humid, which had made it sweaty and uncomfortable most of the time she'd been training there. Plus the innocent nudity that most ferin favored tended to make her feel overdressed under the best of circumstances. It had helped, she admitted to herself, that the nearest other observant Muslims had been several tens of lightyears away.
She crossed through the personnel lock and onto the station, feeling conspicuous among the human throngs that she hadn't in the past two years on Newspring, despite being equally a stranger there. She stood off to one side and linked her palmcomp to the station's computer system, downloading the local schematics and instructing it to guide her to the Wazagan Consulate. Curling her tail around her legs to keep it from being accidentally stepped on, she made her way down the wide passage of the main corridor, turning off onto a narrower side access where she found the Consulate entrance, its sign written in Old Wazagan, Galactic Standard and Arabic.
Stepping into the compact consulate was a balm to her nerves. Instead of the chill of the human station's corridors, she was greeted by the warm, dry air of the homeworld. The walls were painted bright white, with squared off geometric patterns painted with thin red lines near the ceiling and her toe claws clicked on the inlaid tiles that lined the floor as she approached the human receptionist manning the front desk.
"Neziha of Brightscale Clan to see Ambassador Haroun," she said to the receptionist. "I have an appointment."
"Yes, ma'am. The ambassador is expecting you," the receptionist replied. Nez was waved into the inner office, where she found Ambassador Haroun sitting behind his desk looking over a display screen. He was a wazagan male of late years, his hair stark white and drawn into a heavy braid that traveled down his back to the base of his tail, his scales so dark purple as be nearly black. He was dressed in conservative robes, the cross at his throat marking him as a member of the Christian half of Wazaga Prime's population.
Haroun looked up from his screen as she entered, standing up and stepping around the desk to greet her with a slight bow. "God be with you, child," he said, his voice age scratched but warm.
"And the Prophet with you, wise elder," she replied, bowing more deeply to him.
"Please, be seated," Ambassdor Haroun said, waving her over to a more informal corner of the room, marked by a pair embroidered couches and a coffee table. He touched a button at his desk, "Marcia, would you bring us tea, please?"
"Yes, Ambassador," the receptionist replied. She brought in a tray, probably prepared just prior to Nez's arrival, with two cups and a pot with the alkaline heavy tea wazagans favored. The Ambassador poured a cup for Nez, and she accepted it along with a lump of honey sugar.
When the human had left, Haroun took a long sip of his tea, then said, "You're a long way from home, child."
"As you are, elder," Nez replied politely. "I go where my studies must take me."
"And I go where my duty lies," he replied. He smiled ruefully. "Though I'll admit this post is more remote than I am accustomed to. Our people do not travel out this way often, and require my humble consulate's services even less."
Nez sighed in agreement. "I've been living on Newspring in the Ferin Autonomous Region for almost two years. This is the first time I've had a chance to speak to someone from home face to face since I left for my internship."
"You're something of a celebrity back home, did you know?" the Ambassador asked. "That incident with the slavers, and the very dramatic rescue of those little ferin, all very exciting. You've attracted much attention in certain circles."
"I really didn't do anything," she replied. "Mostly I just followed my roommate Nan until the rangers showed up to arrest everyone." She left out the incident where she had dropped from the trees to land on one slaver who had been about to participate in the gang rape of a ferin doe. She'd ended up breaking his neck when she fell on top of him. Whether or not he'd deserved it, murder was a sin and a violation of her own healer's oaths. It wasn't something she was proud of.
"You're too modest," he said. "You did that, and now you're the assistant medical officer aboard the first ferin starship. You're doing extraordinarily well."
"Thank you, sir," Nez said, trying suppress a blush.
"Actually, the latter point is why I asked you to come here today. You're in a strange position actually, one of only two non-ferin aboard the Veracious, am I correct?"
"Yes, Ambassador," Nez agreed. "My roommate Nan is the other one. She's a vulpine hired by the First One to be his personal assistant."
"An extraordinary act of trust on the part of the First Free Ferin, wouldn't you say?"
Nez shrugged. "He likes Nan, even if most of the time he growls at her. That and he was pretty appreciative of us helping to rescue those kidnapped ferin. I suppose assigning me to the Veracious was my reward."
"It must be interesting to see the First One in such close proximity," he said, leaning forward slightly in his chair, the tea forgotten in his hand.
Nez took a sip, trying to form an answer. "I don't honestly see him that much. Nan works with him closely of course, so I usually get to hear her side of things though."
"She trust you enough to speak openly in front of you?"
"Well, yes," Nez admitted, wondering where the conversation was going. "We're practically clan-sibs at this point." Almost a bit closer, given their healer-patient relationship. She'd seen Nan at her most vulnerable, as the vulpine struggled to regain the use of her legs, after being paralyzed from wounds received during the rescue of the ferin.
"That's good to know." The Ambassador paused, taking a long, contemplative sip of his tea. "I ask this because we have had a... request... from the Human Federation. They are very interested in the Veracious' journey, and the First One's intentions for her. They would like to hear your views on the matter. In detail."
"I... don't think the First One would be pleased by that idea." Actually she was pretty sure the First One would be furious. It had been the Human Federation's founders that had led the near annihilation of the ferin during the Twenty Years War, when the humans had rebelled against the Varn Dominion that had tried to conquer them, helping to free the rest of the Varn's subjects from their tyrannical rule. The ferin had been targeted because of their extraordinary ability to generate Bion, a biological form of energy that the Varn had used to power their empire. Genetically engineered slaves, the ferin hadn't any choice in the matter. Indeed, they had almost no free will at all, being subject to the orders of whatever master they had imprinted on at a young age.
That hadn't mattered to the humans however, who had wiped them nearly out, only a small colony on a seemingly empty world escaping their attention. There the ferin had lived for nearly five hundred years, free from any sort of master. When that colony had been rediscovered however, the Federation had been quick to steal many of the ferin living there away, to make them slaves once again, while the vulpine also took many as well, creating a home for them on Newspring where they could live in peace.
"I don't believe informing the First One would be a very good idea," the Ambassador said. "To be dreadfully honest, Neziha, the Federation is not at all happy about the ferin having an armed warship at their disposal. And the fact that a wazagan is among the crew of that vessel makes them rather unhappy with us."
"The Veracious is an exploration vessel," she said. "It's armed because it's going into unexplored territory. And I'm a xenomedico trained in ferin medicine. I'd have been a fool to turn down the chance to serve aboard the first ship crewed completely by ferin."
"I understand that," the ambassador said in a calming tone. "It would be helpful to us if you could make the Federation understand as well."
"Sir, I'm in a position of trust on that ship," Nez said. "As a physician I'm doubly bound not to violate that trust. And the Federation has demonstrated that they don't care about what's good for the ferin, only what's good for humans. It's hard to even find a human who thinks of ferin as people, outside the Ferin Rescue Society."
Ambassador Haroun looked pained. "Actually, the Ferin Rescue Society is part of the problem. The Federation Security Council is on the verge of declaring them a terrorist group. I'm afraid the recent incident on Brightstone has them extremely concerned."
"Oh, that's ridiculous!" she exclaimed. "The FRS is committed to peaceful solutions!"
"The FRS is heavily supported by the Vulpine Farmer Lords. They are also a small but growing influence back on Wazaga Prime, much the Federation's dismay."
"If the Federation is dismayed by people helping ferin, maybe they should look closer at their own house!" Nez said angrily, half rising from her seat.
Haroun looked at her sternly, motioning for her to sit back down. "Child, you don't understand the seriousness of the situation. We, the wazagan as a whole, are not a in a position to dictate terms to the Human Federation. We are dependent on them for extra-solar defense and escort of our cargo vessels between systems. Yes, the Ferin Problem is an affront, both to ourselves personally and to God's will. But we are in no real position to argue the point."
"Our people may not be, but I certainly am," Nez said, her tail lashing. "I refuse to give any information to the Federation."
Amabassador Haroun's expression darkened. "I'm afraid you response has been anticipated. I've been told to inform you that if you refuse the Federation's request, your name will be placed on their Security List, and your right to travel outside of the Wazagan system will be revoked."
"What!" she exclaimed. "They can't do that without cause! It's a violation to the Treaty of Free Passage."
"Nevertheless, it will be done. I'm sorry, Neziha."
She paused. To be restricted to Wazaga Prime her entire life, never to leave, never to use her hardwon xenomed skills outside of perhaps the Capitol Hospital, would not only be an insult to the effort and expense her clan had placed to her education, but....
I want see the stars.
"I... I have to think about this, sir," she said weakly, feeling sick to her stomach.
"Not too long," the ambassador replied. "We will speak again tomorrow."
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no subject
Date: 2011-09-29 07:34 am (UTC)Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
no subject
Date: 2011-09-29 09:09 am (UTC)Well, social too, but you haven't met Leeza's grandson yet...
no subject
Date: 2011-09-29 11:10 am (UTC)Since she is in interplanetary space I guess they cannot revoke that right until she is back in Wazagan space - until then who would (or could) stop her from traveling on the Ferin vessel?
mjkj