06-07-2024, 03:32 PM
Ktan had taken years to grow accostumed to interacting with non-feline species, learning their individual facial tics, body language, and the particular way their bare skin color changes could reflect their mood. When he saw the blood drain from Lieutenant Papaver's face, he realized just how much she was unprepared for this big talk.
"Wow. That's um. . ." she said. "Wow. I, ah, remember a decade or so back there was something with the Andorians, they were having some kind of genetic population issue too I think.” She quickly stopped herself before she said something she wasn't qualified to talk about. I'm a botanist and astronomer, really. Maybe a bit of engineering on the side. Genetics isn't my thing."
It made sense, of course. Ktan had been taught from childhood about the great stigma against genetic engineering that existed within the Federation. Humans in particular were described as downright fanatical in their opposition to and oppression of augments. Ktan had even worried that his own genetically modified DNA - something he had no control over - may have prevented him from joining Starfleet. Thankfully, however, Kzinti like him were given a pass, given the deep seeded cultural nature of the practice in Kzinti society.
Besides. . . there was some precedent for asylum seekers being granted an exception to this rule.
As Ktan nodded along, trying to recall the specifics of the problems facing Andoria, Lieutenant Papaver seemed to regain her footing.
"You're just moving in. You probably haven't had time to check you're messages yet. Apparently, there's a mass crew dinner this evening in the mess hall. It could be fun.”
This time, it was the blood in Ktan's face draining away, not that a human could tell.
"Yes. . . I had heard. . ." he said. "I may attend, once I've had a chance to settle in."
He let an awkward silence hang for a moment, before deciding to excuse himself.
"As you said, I'm only just moving in. I have quite a bit of unpacking to do. I'm sure we'll have more time to talk once we are underway."
He offered the lieutenant a short bow, before ducking into his quarters - he really did need to unpack.
"Wow. That's um. . ." she said. "Wow. I, ah, remember a decade or so back there was something with the Andorians, they were having some kind of genetic population issue too I think.” She quickly stopped herself before she said something she wasn't qualified to talk about. I'm a botanist and astronomer, really. Maybe a bit of engineering on the side. Genetics isn't my thing."
It made sense, of course. Ktan had been taught from childhood about the great stigma against genetic engineering that existed within the Federation. Humans in particular were described as downright fanatical in their opposition to and oppression of augments. Ktan had even worried that his own genetically modified DNA - something he had no control over - may have prevented him from joining Starfleet. Thankfully, however, Kzinti like him were given a pass, given the deep seeded cultural nature of the practice in Kzinti society.
Besides. . . there was some precedent for asylum seekers being granted an exception to this rule.
As Ktan nodded along, trying to recall the specifics of the problems facing Andoria, Lieutenant Papaver seemed to regain her footing.
"You're just moving in. You probably haven't had time to check you're messages yet. Apparently, there's a mass crew dinner this evening in the mess hall. It could be fun.”
This time, it was the blood in Ktan's face draining away, not that a human could tell.
"Yes. . . I had heard. . ." he said. "I may attend, once I've had a chance to settle in."
He let an awkward silence hang for a moment, before deciding to excuse himself.
"As you said, I'm only just moving in. I have quite a bit of unpacking to do. I'm sure we'll have more time to talk once we are underway."
He offered the lieutenant a short bow, before ducking into his quarters - he really did need to unpack.