Workforce Optimization

[Cleveyet Bar-Atoch]

He'd been given an office.

It was a nice office; a little small, but nothing he could not work in. It was also situated in what he had to guess were the mid-levels of the station. Not close from the command hub, but not far either. He'd studied the station's layout during his trip, but aside from memorizing where the medical ward was, and the best place to find a spot of food, there wasn't much else he felt needed his committed knowledge. No, that bit of extra space was allotted to those who called Jovan 'home'. The men and women who made the station turn about each day. That was the right phrase, yes?

A few unpacked boxes were stacked along the far left wall, and a desk that was too big dominated the arguably small office space. A rather high-backed chair behind, and two smaller seats in front. All very normal for someone in his line of work. No trace of personal effects could be seen, just bare walls and the trappings of work. Perhaps when he had finished the docket he'd given himself he would indulge in a small bit of decoration, but work first. Fun came later.

A terminal built into the desk was on, the soft glow of its' screen casting a soft glow on the Pengauani furiously typing... something. And to say he was furiously typing would be a slight fib; he was furiously concentrating on typing. Standing on his chair (sitting was out of the question), he remained focused. The tips of his flippers moved from letter to letter, careful to not accidentally push an extra key that would result in a misspelled word. A disposable, lidded box sat open beside the terminal, and Bar-Atoch paused in his writing. He peered into the box and the plastic container of thin silver-fish it held. His beak ducked in, quickly snatching out a lone morsel, and head angling up, the Pengauani undulated his body, swallowing the fish whole.

A second silver-fish met the same fate, and clapping his beak in satisfaction, he went back to his typing.

He'd sent out a summons to Jovan's chief engineer, hoping that the Nehantite would be showing his face sometime soon. It'd been a day since he'd left the message on Anauri Rabeak's answering machine, after all.

[Anauri Rabeak]

In most stations of Jovan's size, the Chief Engineer scarcely ever left his office, spending most of his day compiling reports and organizing work crews. Not Anauri Rabeak. In fact, it was seldom he could even be found in his office, as he preferred to be out with his work crews, or even tackling assignments alone if needed. That morning alone, Anauri had already assisted two work crews, and replaced a junction box by himself, before returning to find his computer terminal blinking at him.

It wasn't an uncommon situation as things broke on Jovan all the time, despite the best efforts of his team, and so he dropped his tool bag, slumped down into his chair, took a bite from his half-stale koiboberry donut, and activated his inbox. Insufficient breaker, no, just overloaded, and Anauri forwarded it on to station code compliance for review. Intermittent power failures in a work bay, sounded like a Mayael job. HR meeting request, that had Gradoona written all over it, knowing how she loved to talk. Just as his finger was ready to move on to the next message, the Nehantite engineer paused. The next sound was that of his head smacking back against his chair's headrest.

"Fuuuuuck," he groaned, briefly thinking of the bottle of whiskey in his bottom desk drawer. The message wasn't some general request for a representative from Engineering, it was directed to himself, and from the same person who'd left a message on his answering machine the day before. "Fucking HR bullshit..." With a grunt he sat up, finished his donut, then sighed. Offices needed HR officers. Advertising and media companies needed HR officers. Even restaurant chains needed HR officers, but there was no way that Engineering needed, had ever needed, or would ever need an HR officer. Engineering existed because other people were too stupid to understand how to use things designed and built by smarter people, and so Engineering had to fix shit every time they broke it through their own sheer incompetence. That was the role of Engineering, and they all knew it. Engineers, to put it simply, were just plain better than everyone else.

As a linesman, or a tech, Anauri could find ways to weasel out of an HR meeting, or at least get his supervisor to go instead, but as Chief Engineer of Jovan station, there was no one left for Anauri to pass the buck to. "Well, let's get this over with," he grumbled, rising from his chair.

Some fifteen minutes later he pressed the buzzer on Bar-Atoch's door, a steaming hot stimcaff in his paw. While one couldn't look at a clock during such a meeting, he could at least monitor time via temperature loss from his drink.

[Cleveyet Bar-Atoch]

Looking up, Bar-Atoch blinked quickly, two times. He wasn't... oh yes! He certainly was! Hoping that it was the Chief Engineer, the Pengauani took a few steps back in his seat, his gaze on the door.

"Yes yes! Come in!"

A file folder was resting on one side of his desk, and reaching forward, he deftly flicked it open. A thin stack of flimsi printouts were contained within, an itemized list of the issues he'd been made aware of concerning the Chief, as well as some from those under him. It would be a pleasant meeting though, he hoped. He'd do his absolute best to make sure that animosity had no chance to stuff the both of the down her angry gullet.

[Anauri Rabeak]

Note to self: Gradoona wasn't drunk or high yesterday when she said there was a penguin on the station. Further note to self: make sure that koiboberries aren't hallucinogens as I'm seeing a penguin behind a desk right now.

Those were the words which ran through Anauri's mind the moment he opened the door, and for an instant he was tempted to close it and re-open it once more so that the correct visage of the HR officer would appear. Yet he didn't do that, as it would be both silly, and likely ineffective.

"You wanted to see me?" he asked, then took a sip of his stimcaff. It was still roiling hot, and his thermal chronometer was set down on the desk while his own backside parked itself in the chair opposite the... talking penguin.

[Cleveyet Bar-Atoch]

"Ah yes."

Bar-Atoch watched as Chief Rabeak settled himself into the seat provided. With the folder open, the Pengauani opted to ignore it for the moment. Instead, he went straight to the preferred introductions.

"I'm Officer Bar-Atoch, with Alliance Compliance and Personnel."

He would've extended a hand to shake, if he had a hand. As it was, he simply settled for an open-beaked 'smile' and a gracious nod.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Chief Rabeak."

[Anauri Rabeak]

So, this was the pint-size pain in the ass that Gradoona tried to eat. Had Anauri known it was an HR officer, he might have cheered the effort. As things stood, all Anauri could do was put on a fake smile of his own.

"I'm sure it is," he replied. "Now, if you don't mind, let's get down to it, shall we? I've got a full schedule for the day, and that's not including the shit some dumbasses haven't even broken yet."

[Cleveyet Bar-Atoch]

There was a moment of silence, as the open-beaked 'smile' froze, eyes locking with the Chief Engineer's own.

"Well... then."

And then motion, as he snapped back to his task at hand. Looking down at the open file folder, Bar-Atoch pulled it a bit closer to himself, scanning the long list of concerns from various sources. Some were silly, some were not. All would need to be addressed, though.

"I suppose I'll jump right in. I'm here because there have been a larger than normal number of incidents reported to Compliance. And to be quite truthful, a decent amount are about engineering."

He waved a flipper in the air, as if to dispel any interruption should it come.

"Now some of these are not worth the flimsis they were sent in on, but some are. So."

Both flippers went down on the desk, elbows 'resting on the faux wood finish and tip coming together.

"I think it best that we start with your language."

[Anauri Rabeak]

"My language?" Anaruri replied in blue collar Nehantite. "What's the problem with my language? It's perfectly acceptable, and I don't even speak it here." He immediately flipped to Galactic Basic, "I speak Basic just fine, so if people are saying they can't understand me, perhaps they're just racist sons of bitches."

The engineer knew full well that wasn't what the tuxedo'ed twit was referring to, but if he could put Captain Fishbreath off guard, it meant things weren't all in HR's favor. Still, his bushy eyebrows furrowed as he gave a nearly accusatory glance at Bar-Atoch, just to sell the notion of distrust.

[Cleveyet Bar-Atoch]

If ever a penguin was able to give an unimpressed look, Bar-Atoch had certainly found a way to master it.

"Yes, your language." he was as unflappable as a pile of durracrete in a slight breeze.

"Nehantite dialect is of no matter to me," he continued, "... but there are a few words you've chosen to inject into your speech patterns when speaking Basic that concern me."

Leaning on one arm, he angled forward a little bit to fix the Chief with a cautionary stare.

"Colorful metaphors are all well and good, but there are limits to when they can be spoken aloud. And, in the presence of others who may be more sensitive, I would think it best to exorcise an inner monologue rather than a string of foul words that no doubt are still hanging about outside the station in orbit."

[Anauri Rabeak]

Bar-Atoch had clearly never been among a Nehantite engineering crew before, or... any engineering crew. Swearing was a common language among most engineers (Gradoona excluded, unless "Oh, penguins!" was a Fatlandian curse), and an almost expected part of the job. Of course, it had to relate to what you were working on, otherwise it just didn't make sense. "This shit" meant the failure within the item you were working on. "That shit" referred to something broken which was made worse by the breaker attempting to fix it. "Dumbass, Prick, Fucktard, Raging Fucktard, Shit-Lord, and Shit-Lord Supreme (with the extreme variant of "His Imperial Majesty the Great High Shit-Lord Supreme") were descriptors of increasing levels of incompetence on the part of whoever either designed or broke the broken item in the first place. Cursing had its own unwritten encyclopedia of definitions to a well-organized crew, and Anauri would be damned if he was to let such a core part of his professional culture be ripped away by some little prick.

Naturally none of this was said out loud, as one had to earn one's way into the folds of Engineering, so Anauri simply sat and cracked his knuckles idly. "Perhaps others should learn to be less sensitive," came his reply. "What's the next complaint?"

[Cleveyet Bar-Atoch]

"Some of the complaints came from mothers with young children."

Bar-Atoch thought for a moment, his brow stitched in thought as he did his best to navigate this first meeting.

"I suppose that if no one is about, then you can speak as you wish." For now he ignored the call to move on to the next issue. "But the moment I see another complaint form from someone who's toddler just heard a string of curses, then I'll be forced to start banning certain words."

[Anauri Rabeak]

"Fine, whatever," Anauri shrugged it off. "Funny how none of this was a problem and we didn't need an HR officer while the station was being rebuilt, and I didn't hear a single person complaining when I helped save their asses during that attack we had, either. But once we bust our asses once again to get things back ship-shape and hunky-dory, with working power everywhere, water, and refurbished living quarters that might as well be a luxury hotel, you show up and tell me we're not good enough because we might say bad words. Geepers, mister, you've shown me the golly-gosh-darn error of my ways. Now seriously, what's next, because the more time I spend in here getting pissed off means less time I could actually be doing my job out there."

[Cleveyet Bar-Atoch]

Now what was this? A moment of silence passed as the Pengauani digested the Chief's words, picking out the one particular bit that stuck out like a Wookiee at a Squib Market. He was well enough acquainted with the jump to imaginary conclusions.

"I'm sorry," there was a questioning tone to his voice now, "... but I wasn't aware that I had called into question the quality of your work. Perhaps you could illuminate me on where I said that what you've done so far was suddenly not 'good enough'?"

[Anauri Rabeak]

The sudden and biting reply which stood poised on the tip of Anauri's tongue was swallowed back as he saw a possible light at the end of the tunnel to hell he felt himself trapped within. It was time to stop being emotional and think like an engineer.

Like understanding any machinery before you could fix it, it was important to understand the nature of a conversation before you could extricate yourself from it. Command was direct, running on results and respect. Engineering was blunt, demanding results, period. But HR was that touchy-feely madhouse of special snowflakes and precious buttercups whose world ran on feelings instead of logic, and therefore the only way to win would be to appeal to their feelings and make them feel like they'd helped you through some difficult, heart-wrenching, very special episode of Blossom, so you could both be better for it in the end. Yeah, because that would make the oxygen scrubbers work more efficiently, or some such bullshit.

Straightening his posture, the Nehantite looked straight into the Penguani's beady little eyes as he replied, "When you question an engineer's methods, you directly question their work. The method and the result are linked; to question one is to question the other. You have thus given me the perception that you do not find me, or my work, satisfactory. So I'd like to know what else is on your list so that I can improve as a person and as an engineer."

[Cleveyet Bar-Atoch]

There were a litany of words that he could've said to keep this asinine conversation going, and it would be a falsehood to say that he did not want to utter then. Instead, Bar-Atoch chose to go the simplest and easiest route.

"All that I ask," each word was enunciated carefully, "... is that you bite your tongue when younglings might be about. It is a reasonable request."

A flimsi was shifted to the opposite end of the file folder, and he went on without allowing any further rebuttal.

"Now, I've also been sent complaints on your wardrobe. But- " here he chose to find a level of common ground.

"I care little over whether or not you wear the provided uniform while you go about your daily tasks. Your work speaks for itself, no matter what you may think I am trying to imply."

[Anauri Rabeak]

"I wear the uniform jacket, which is enough to identify my employment and my position," Anauri nodded. "The rest of the uniform provided is unsatisfactory in design for the purpose of my position."

It wasn't an argument, but instead a confirmation that he was complying with the rules, even if in a loose sort of sense.

"I'm glad we can see eye-to-eye on that one," he added, not bothering to mention that Bar-Atoch wasn't even wearing a uniform at all.

[Cleveyet Bar-Atoch]

A conciliatory 'smile', as his beak opened by just a fraction and he leaned back away from the file folder he'd been perched over.

"As am I, Mr. Rabeak. As am I."

The folder was quickly snapped shut the, and the Pengauani slid it to one side of his desk so that he could access it later. He had a nagging feeling that it was a folder that'd be growing.

"Now, I don't wish to keep you from your regular duties any longer than necessary, so unless you have any questions for me, I would say that we're through here, for now."

[Anauri Rabeak]

"Nope, think we're good here." The words tumbled out of Anauri's mouth with speed rapid enough to match his rise from his chair. "Thanks, bye," were his only other words before the door to Bar-Atoch's office was wrenched open and Anauri made his escape.

"See ya, shit-lord!" Was the expression which the engineer to keep inside, though it took some work to do so.

So what if some kid hears one of us curse? Don't they all play that Grand Theft Speeder game, anyhow? I've always said Engineering should be exempt from HR, period. What do we need them for? Nothing, absolutely nothing. And if they think they're going to try and install some sort of monitor in my engineering bay, it better be stronger than my pipe-wrench! The nerve of that that little shit. I wish to Garfife that Gradoona HAD eaten him!