Wakeup Call - Part 1

Posted on Thu 3rd Dec, 2020 @ 10:10pm by Sipov Boros
Edited on on Thu 3rd Dec, 2020 @ 10:12pm

1,271 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Denouement
Location: Deck 2245, Deck 686
Timeline: MD10 0700 Hrs

[Deck 2245]

Sleeping soundly in the small single room apartment that Sipov had been assigned the day before, he was awoken by a chime. The lights turned on a moment later going from a soft glow to becoming much more intense. It caused him to pull the blanket over his head and roll onto his side. There wasn't much to be found aside from a replicator in the wall, a table with two chairs, and a single bed. There was a small status display over the table that could be used for messaging others and displaying notifications but not much else. Finding the actual housing office after being turned away by a rude Andorian woman, a rather attractive Star Fleet Officer that if he ever saw again, he'd willingly buy a drink for.

He'd be allowed to sleep and live here for the next week, maybe two depending on possible influxes of refugees and those running from their problems such as himself. But after a week there was no guarantee that his access code would keep working. At that point he was told he'd be granted a single entry to collect his belongings and then leave. Considering he'd stayed in prison cells that were more comfortable it wasn't somewhere the Vulcan wanted to live long term, but at least it didn't reek of urine. All in all, the room was fairly clean with a small waste receptacle and sonic shower behind a privacy wall in the far corner. And best of all it didn't cost him anything.

The chime went off once more, one of many escalating deterrents to keep those from seeking the rooms as refuge to become intoxicated in one way or another during their stay. There were rules he had to follow while staying there, like being sober. Not that Sipov possessed anything at the moment that would cause him to fail meeting the requirement.

After the chime went off a third time, much louder now, he sat up in the bed and rubbed his eyes and then itched is bare chest while stifling a yawn. "Okay okay, I'll get up and clear out of here for the next bit...." he stated aloud. If anyone was listening they would've heard him. There was a tone of underlying annoyance.

Reaching over he grabbed his bag from the chair and opened it, pulling out a fresh pair of pants and a clean shirt. With his allowed rations and recycling most of the clothes he'd brought with him he was able to replicate a weeks’ worth of clean clothing. The food options were nothing he desired or found palatable, so he'd be paying for his food out of pocket. Likely at some restaurant or bar he'd probably visit today while trying to get to know part of the station.

After getting dressed he pulled on his jacket a checked his right pocket out of habit. He found the few credits he had in change as well as the charge card that contained access to the rest of what little currency he still had. Or at least had access to. One day he'd get his hands on the money that Shroan had stolen from him.

Exiting the room he checked to make sure it was secure behind him and looked to either side, noting a few others down opposite directions that had likely been forced out like himself. Just down the way he found a deck listing and found that there were several places to visit with merchants and such. Seeing that it was what they referred to as a Promenade he decided to head their first. Down just a bit farther was a turbolift and he only had to step over two people to get there. The amount of displaced people Sipov assumed were likely here caused him to shake his head for a moment.

Once the lift stopped and doors opened, he stepped inside "Promenade". The doors closed and to his surprise it took off smoothly causing him to grin. Maybe things will be better today.


[Deck 686]

Once more the ride in the lift took quite some time, causing him to consider the possibility of trying to use a transporter in the future, if he would even be allowed to. Or could even find one near his temporary quarters. Sipov did hope to find more welcoming folks in this "journey" to the upper decks of the station as well as some good food. Real food, not something replicated.

The lift slowed and doors opened showing him a large hallway with several folks walking back and forth. For this time of the day the foot traffic seemed to be much less than he presumed it would be in about an hour or so as people started their day. Walking out he took note of how the air wasn't stale and decided it was likely he'd try to spend more time within this part of the station when possible. Or at least while he wanted to follow any rules that were imposed. The Federation seemed to be too straight laced for the likes of him but for the time being at least he would have to live within them or risk ending up in a cell, but something told him it wouldn't be in one of the nicer ones.

Finding another directory close by he took a look and realized the promenade covered several decks with various merchants and services available although some of his more particular tastes didn't appear they'd be catered to here. At least there were bars and lounges he could patronize. Picking one out at random he decided breakfast would be his first priority and found one with a rather abstract name that caught his eye, the Paraloft.

Making his way in the direction of the lounge Sipov noted a number of alien races he'd only ever seen on a screen as well as some that he certainly didn't recognize. So far everyone seemed to be peaceful and going about their business. There was second floor above him open, and walkways on either side with walkways to cross connect above every so often. The design was a simple but effective one. A few Starfleet officers walked past but most everyone seemed to either be civilian or off duty.

Walking up to the entrance there was an archway with a stand in the center and an attractive young lady standing there that looked as if she’d been up too late the night before. She stifled a yawn and had dark circles under her eyes. She had a small mug that she picked up and took sip from before returning it to its place and smiling. She was what he believed to be a Bajoran woman. “Welcome, here for breakfast or a late dinner?” She had blue eyes and dark hair, slender, and her features were rather accentuated but with a soft undertone. Her multi toned grey jumpsuit was form fitting and left little to the imagination

Dinner? he thought. “Breakfast, unless you’re joining me, and we can make it dinner if you like. With say desert at my place after.”
The woman let out a chuckle and turned to escort him inside. The lighting was about mid-range to keep things soft but allow one to make their way through safely. The pair made their way to a round table booth and she placed a small PADD on the center “Your menu”.
Sliding into the booth he patted an empty space next to him “Why don’t you join me?”


To be continued....

 

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