A Fresh Start ?

Posted on Wed 25th Nov, 2020 @ 3:54am by Sipov Boros

1,280 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Denouement
Location: Deck 2245, Deck 636
Timeline: MD09 1100 Hrs

[S.S. Arothos]

As the ship he'd been onboard for the last several days shuttered as the docking arm made contact, Sipov was awoken from the stupor he'd placed himself into. Whatever it was he'd drunk the night before given to him by another man, or woman, he wasn't quite sure, had put him out cold. Not that he really cared. Anything to pass the time quicker and make the trip go by quicker had been of great interest to him. While he knew nothing about Starbase 109 the pilot had decided it was a good place to look for work and leave what he could of his old life behind.

As his eyes opened the man realized he was in a dimly lit cargo hold. Sitting up he reached for his bag and checked it, everything was still in there, not that he had much. His black pants and gray shirt were wrinkled and he was beginning to smell. The jacket he wore however seemed to smell the same as always, like fresh leather. Finding his footing he stood and while making his way to the doors to exit, lights throughout the hold turned on blinding him "Hey, is this any way to treat a passenger?" he called out to an empty room.

The doors before him opened and a large Nausicaan appeared "A stowaway huh? I think someone needs to be taught a lesson!" Taking a few steps back Sipov managed to find his pass before the other man that had now pulled a large knife could gut him like a fish. "Wait wait!" he called out "Here". The Nausicaan took a look at the pass and threw it back at him. "Get out of my cargo hold."

[Deck 2245]

Not bothering to pick up the pass Sipov ran out of the room and made his way to where he saw a number of other people exiting. Freedom at last. Moving at a brisk pace he walked down the ramp and made his way off of the ship. What had started as a smile turned into a frown as a stench like no other entered his nostrils. “What in the world?!” He held up his hand to cover his nose while continuing into a dimly lit corridor and down the docking umbilical. “What kind of Starbase is the Federation keeping here?” If they take care of their stations like this it’s no wonder the Dominion and the Romulans made such work of them he thought to himself.

As he continued on he spotted a man farther down with a PADD. The overalls he wore were somewhat worn and tattered, and had a few various stains that looked to be oil.

“Name” he called out. Sipov looked at the human and raised an eyebrow. “Sipov Boros…”

The man tapped his PADD to check him off of the passenger manifest “You may proceed.”

Shaking his head Sipov pushed past without another word and continued on. Eventually he came to an opening and what he saw before him he almost couldn’t believe. The corridors were still dimly lit just like where he’d come from, but down the hallways were people laying down or sitting against the wall every so often. He could hear a cough in the far distance while scanning for any directions, which he quickly found. Not bothering to ask the few people he walked around the man quickly found where the housing office was, or what he assumed it was.

Finding the nearest lift he pressed the button to call for it hoping in the meantime no one would bother him. He was wrong.

An older woman came up to him, a Bajoran with a shawl that looked like it’d seen better days and a jumpsuit that looked to be so soiled he couldn’t tell if that was the original color or if perhaps it had been white at one time. Either way her smell caused him to take a step back.

“Do you have anything to eat I could have?” she asked. “Uhm, no” he replied, still seemingly disgusted. “How about some boosters? I know a lot of you travelers bring the good stuff. I don’t have much to offer much in trade other than say companionship….”

“No, I don’t have the time for you right now.” Not that he had any sort of interest or desire towards the woman anyways. His companions typically were much more attractive, younger, and bathed. The lift doors opened and he made his way inside pressing the button to close the doors. The woman attempted to join him but they closed just in time. “Housing office” he called out, having no clue where it would take him.

[Deck 636]

Shuddering as it began to move the lift began to pick up speed causing him to wonder if he’d survive what he hoped was a short trip. After about 5 minutes he found out he was wrong. The lift continued to go on for what seemed like forever and he more or less zoned out “Deck 636” a computer voice called out as it slowed down, shuddering once more. The doors opened to a very pleasant looking hallway, adorned with much more pleasant colors and actual lighting. This time he stepped out with a smile and it stayed. Seeing a Housing Management office down the way he walked and entered as the doors opened. A StarFleet officer of some sort, an Andorian woman, sat at a desk in the main entryway with a few couches to the sides to sit while waiting.

She looked up and scrunched her nose “Orders please.” Orders? he thought. “I don’t have any, I just arrived on a transport here and man you should see the dump I walked into, down somewhere on a much lower deck I believe than here. You guys should really get it cleaned up, you StarFleeters have a reputation to uphold. And this woman-” she cut him off “I don’t think you’re supposed to be reporting in up here. You see, I believe you came up from what we refer to as the Brown Sector, you’re a refugee right? There is a service office on Deck 2245 that can help you. Unless you have orders or are a Federation citizen I can’t be of much help. However they can help those displaced such as yourself find temporary lodging and an opportunity to get back on your feet again. Best of luck”

“Refugee? Lady I’m a Pilot. I’ve flown ships and routes crazier than anything you could dream of.” He stepped up closer to the desk.

“That’s Chief Lady to you, Sir. If you don’t leave I’ll have to request Security to come and help you find your way back down towards the lower deck where you can be helped further. Now please leave.” She began to open a communications window to request further help.

Holding up a hand Sipov backed away “Okay lady, calm down. I thought you Starfleet types were supposed to be a little more composed. I’ll leave.”

He turned around and exited making his way back down the hall from where he came. As the doors to the lift opened, as it appeared it hadn’t even gone anywhere since his arrival, the man couldn’t help but shake his head and wonder what in the world he’d gotten himself into. “Deck 2245, I guess” he called out. The doors groaned as they closed shut and the lift sped off back in the opposite direction back into the bowels of the station…...

 

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