FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Splintered Light Chapter 5.2: Intervention

In the time Calus had been working for Captain Alistair Jacksoni it seemed that full disclosure when it came to trips was the common practice. Knowing the approximate duration of a long sea voyage was both a blessing and a curse, especially, in the Salamander's mind, when it came to the more weak-willed and thick-headed crewmen. The crew was able to have a reasonable expectation on how long they'd be at sea but, in Calus' experience that led to issues mid-voyage and the trip out to the unexplored islands was no different.

Based on the Translator's estimates the Wave Rider was close to the half way mark between dock and destination when the change in the crew's daily activities became noticeable. It started in the small ways with workers getting just a little less respectful and gracious to one another. From there it progressed to a lack of general courtesy, manifesting most prominently in the various crew selecting their native language for use over Mehnzilian. It was a small shift of standard operating procedure whenever supervisors weren't around but it was enough for the crew to start reinforcing cliques of 'us' and 'them'.

These were all things Calus expected as he'd run through enough experiences with them to know they'd happen. Fortunately that also meant that the Salamander was in place to help deal with them when they arose. Some of Alistair's employees such as Reverend Gustave or Brother Ephram used scripture, counseling, and prayer to help mitigate the negativity and separatism but if things dissolved further (as they occasionally did) then they needed something between prevention and punishment, and that was intervention, which was what helped Calus earn his keep aboard the ship.

His experience in dealing with different people from different cultures in different languages meant that he wasn't only tactful, but he was also diplomatic in a way most people failed to acknowledged or understand until he was needed. When things reached to the point of a threat of violence between two crewmen it certainly seemed to be that time. Despite the sky being clear, quite the storm was gathering on the Wave Rider as a shouting match errupted between two deckhands and so Calus stepped in to calm things down.

It took nearly five minutes for the Salamander to talk the crewmen into a state that was something close to reasonable; since their argument first started both had reflexively reverted to their own native languages which, unsurprisingly was not Mehznilian, and therefore not known by the other. Calus learned early on that the ability to communicate was the first and most important trait that kept violence at bay and so he interjected and began providing his talent with words to translate; even though both spoke Mehnzilian, the Salamander knew it would be far easier to calm them down if he chose their words for them.

The most boisterous of the two was a very large Dog from Ilyse. From what Calus understood, the sailor was a constant problem on deck. Mr Lews, as he was referred to by the ship's commanders was often the cause of most crew-based disruptions onboard but he was, nevertheless, a very efficient and knowledgeable seaman. Despite Calus' desire to call the Dog by his given name of Archibald, he refrained from doing so to maintain consistency in treatment. That, and he recalled hearing somewhere that the Dog hated being called Archibald, and further antagonizing one of the individuals who was already close to a fight would not be productive.

The Translator maintained his focus on the big Dog, rephrasing what Mr. Lews had just told him. He chose Ilysean because that was the sailor's native language. "So you are upset that Mr. Fritz was talking to his fellow crewmen in Doelichian?"

Mr. Lews gave a quick, succinct nod. "Right. He coulda been sayin' somethin' bout mah family for all I know. I don't like people talkin' b'hind mah back in fronta mah face... stick t' Mehnzilian or throw yerself overboard."

The other sailor, a relatively new addition to the Wave Rider was a Doelichian Marmot named Mr. Fritz. The Marmot's given name was Fritz and Calus didn't recall ever hearing the rodent's family name but, then again, most Doelichians didn't share family names in casual conversation so it made sense. Calus turned to Fritz and began the important part of his job: conveying information effectively. He chose the Marmot's native Doelichian "Mr. Lews was concerned that you were speaking in a language he couldn't understand."

Mr. Fritz shrugged callously. "I wasn't talking to him... shouldn't matter what language I choose. Besides, he talks in Ilysean all the time so why should what I do make any difference to him?"

Calus was familiar with moral imperative arguments; he knew all about redirection of obligation and assignment of blame; the Salamander was no stranger to negotiation and arbitration. His follow up to the Marmot's question was another question. "Does it bother you when he speaks in Ilysean?"

The rodent rolled his eyes. "To be honest, Mr. Len, I don't care about him or his problems, so, no, I don't care what languages he uses, let alone what he says. I'm here to do a job, and I don't got time to play nice with people who get in my way."

The Translator was pleased that he'd elected to use different languages with the different parties involved. He looked back to Mr. Lews and returned to speaking Ilysean. "He was not talking about you."

The Dog gave a snort. "Yeah? Well how'm I supposed t'know that when he's speaking some other language?"

Calus decided to try another tactic. "Mr. Lews, do you never speak in your mother tongue? Is this the first time you've used Ilysean while onboard the Wave Rider?"

Mr. Lews offered an immediate, derisive snort. "Hell no. It's a lot easier t'speak Ilysean than it is Mehnzilian... I don't got any idea how YOU manage t'keep all those languages separated in your head-- I got enough trouble with two."

The Salamander offered a polite, single word response. "Practice."

The sailor snorted again. "I guess, but I got work t'do so I don't get time for all that practice stuff... sometimes it's just easier t'speak Ilysean an' get the job done."

Calus nodded thoughtfully at that, taking several seconds to appear to be considering what Mr. Lews said despite already knowing how he'd respond. The moment he saw the Dog's ears raise a half inch the Salamander knew it was time to provide that continuation to the conversation. "So... you speak Ilysean because it is faster and easier for you convey your thoughts and express yourself?"

He could tell that his choice of words were not the ones the Dog would have used, especially when Mr. Lews responded with. "Yeah... that kinda thing."

Another moment of stalling by presenting himself as considering what was said preceded Calus' conclusive resolution. "Is it possible that perhaps Mr. Fritz is using his native language for the same reason?"

As if comprehending that simple possibility for the first time, Mr. Lews' ears raised even further and an expression of terse realization spread its way across his muzzle. The Dog cleared his throat as a faint snarl threatened to bypass his self control. "Well, I don't like it. He might be talkin' 'bout me."

Calus cocked his head to the side, closing the see-through membranes over his eyes for effect as he leaned in forward; most mammals hated the expression and it usually got results. "Couldn't he just do that in Mehnzilian?"

Mr. Lews leaned further away from him at the display, no longer meeting his gaze. "Sure... but he knew if he did that I'd grind him inta pulp."

Once again the Salamander nodded thoughtfully, but he didn't bother pausing before pressing the question "So there is no sense in insulting you to your face because he would risk bodily injury. What good, may I ask, does insulting you do if you don't understand what he's saying? What is there to gain?"

Calus saw the gears turning slowly in the Dog's head. The response was, as expected, uninspired machismo. "He'll get away talkin' trash... that's why he wouldn't do it in Mehnzilian. He and his Doelichian chums get a laugh at my expense and probably think I'm stupid cuz I don't realize they're doin' it."

It was a circular logic of sorts that didn't help resolve the issue; it only prolonged the conflict. "So his goal is to make himself feel better by insulting you to other crewmen without you knowing you were being slighted?"

Once again, despite Calus speaking in Mr. Lews' own language the Dog had to simplify the explanation. "Yeah... somethin' like that."

The Salamander turned once more toward the Marmot, who looked both agitated and bored at the same time. Calus went back once more to Doelichian. "Mr. Fritz, do you have any problems with Mr. Lews?"

The Marmot just stared at him with no reaction aside from the twitch of an ear. "You serious? Where do you want me to start? He thinks that anyone not from Ilyse is trash. He spends all his time talking about how much better he is than anyone else aboard NOT from Ilyse. He expects special treatment because he wants to wear his 'native clothes'. Not everyone on board this ship is Ilysean and most of us don't give a damn about him. In fact, most of us only give a damn about Ilyse because the Captain's from there."

It was Mr. Fritz's turn to get the membrane treatment. Calus maintained an even tone even as the Marmot fidgeted. "This ship is also registered as an Ilysean vessel. I assume it is safe to say that you do not have anything personal against Ilyse?"

The rodent crewman cleared his throat, immediately interested in the grime beneath one of his claws. "Ah-- no. No, Mr. Len. Most of us got nothing but respect for the captain and I have no problem with Ilyse... just Archie."

Mr. Lews didn't miss his name being spoken, and took a step forward toward Mr. Fritz, addressing him in Mehnzilian. "Hey-- if you got a problem with me, you little rat, then you can say it to my face!"

Calus was a Salamander of the best intentions but, sadly, he'd always been relatively short on tolerance and patience. Raising his voice above the renewed shouting match (which had at least returned to Mehnzilian rather than being in two different languages) the Translator stepped out of the way and went to find the Bosun; Rolf might not have been able to speak a dozen languages but he had power, and that counted for quite a bit. He left the two to their argument with the simple acknowledgement that dealing with them wasn't worth his time.

* * * * * *

Being called to the Captain's Table for dinner wasn't a common occurrence for Calus Len but, then again, it wasn't unheard of either. The Salamander wore a well-fitted tunic beneath a suitably presentable long coat and finished off the ensemble with a pair of cloth britches. As with many of the men on the ship, Calus elected to go barefoot, which worked quite well for him considering he only brought two pair of boots (and neither was quite right for the occasion). The translator didn't specifically feel that a purpose for the invite was needed, precisely, but he always felt better when one was provided... and one was not.

Nevertheless, Calus was in good spirits as he strolled down the hall, nimbly sidestepping those who were moving about in the twilight of the area below decks. Ascending the steps to greet the open air, he smiled inwardly, and even announced to nobody in particular "There is something magical about emerging into the same illumination as one is exiting."

It was a quote from a Mehnzilian philosopher, a Dragon named Brex Lavas, who had coined it over a hundred years prior. Regardless, Calus felt it was still applicable, and he was ready to make his way to the Captain's quarters when a voice off to his side spoke a response "Blessed is the man who walks the path of God, for he shall never fear stepping outside the light."

Calus turned to regard Brother Ephram, who was looming by the stairway leading below the decks. Despite being from the same Kingdom, the Alligator was one of the individuals on the ship that the Salamander liked least, but he had long since resolved to stay cordial. "Good evening, Brother Ephram. Yes, it was a quote, but it was not based in scripture. That was--"

The robe-wearing Alligator interrupted him by raising a single talon and speaking "Brex Lavas, talking about his experience of leaving the Glass Garden in Vedentyn."

The translator was rather surprised (and a little impressed) that the monk recognized the quote... so much so that he stopped entirely and turned to regard his fellow Mehnzillian. "Yes, actually... yes it was."

Ephram, who was perched on a crate beside the stairway still had several inches on him despite being seated. "He then followed the statement of joy and wonder with a proposal for the city council to tear it down and replace it with, as he put it, 'something of merit that would actually do some good'."

Calus remained where he was standing, nictitating membranes blinking as he tried to process what the Alligator was saying. "I... did not know that, Brother Ephram."

The Monk nodded thoughtfully, still looking at the Salamander. "Indeed... he is not known for that statement because it was not well documented and nothing ever came of the proposal... he was well known for the first statement and, in fact, is celebrated because of it today despite how little he actually liked the Glass Garden."

The translator nodded, pretending to take in whatever piece of wisdom it was the pious Alligator was attempting to convey in his carefully couched allegory. "I see. Well, if you'll excuse me, I was asked to join the captain for dinner."

Calus quickly excused himself at that, offering a faint nod to the Monk before making his way toward the door that led to Alistair's quarters. Ephram called after him. "I know you meant well trying to assist with the argument today on deck, Mr. Len... but by the time I was called in to assist Mr. Fritz was already injured. Remember that history can often paint you in a light other than what it is you attempt to convey."

If Calus were capable of blushing he was certain he would have; Ephram Zoari was not one of his favorite people, and the night's lesson was also not welcome. "I will bear that in mind, Brother Ephram. Thank you."

As he made it to the door, the Alligator offered one final comment of dismissal. "Please do not emerge into the same illumination as you exit, Calus. I know you do not wish to be your father's son."

The level of dislike the Salamander had for the Monk increased several fold, which only made his ingratiating smile that much more disingenuine and forced him to control the enunciation of his farewell. "I appreciate the council."