Lay of the Land - Part 5

Posted on Wed 3rd Mar, 2021 @ 7:22pm by Sipov Boros & Renato Solis
Edited on on Wed 3rd Mar, 2021 @ 7:23pm

1,877 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Business Not At All As Usual
Location: Deck 2245, Section 221-B, Renato's Center
Timeline: MD 2, 1930 Hrs

Previously, dessert was on offer ....

Renato finished his stew, cleaning the bowl with the bread. He stood and moved to the kitchen, stopping to say, "Be right back, just grabbing dessert, did you want one?"

The offer was appreciated but Sipov was full. "No, I've had plenty. I really shouldn't have eaten the stew, but it smelled too good to pass up. If you like, we can retire to your office and talk further."

Boros had gotten the hint the other man wanted to take the conversation to a less public setting and, while he didn't entirely understand the reasoning behind it, he wasn't going to push any further until it was just the two of them. It was good to hear that he was open to providing him with people to give jobs, and hire as crew, if and when he got a ship. While at the end of the day he was just a pilot, someone had to run the thing and make sure everyone got what they needed. Following suit, he stood and picked up his bowl, placing it on a nearby counter. He didn't want to impose and enter the kitchen area without approval.

And now, what is the private discussion going to yield?

The two of them made their way past the kitchen, halfway down the hallway opposite the entrance. A simple door with fancy lettering - Renato's was all it said. He opened the door with unconscious effort, showing Sipov the seat for guests and job interviewees. Renato crossed fully into the room, taking his seat at the desk.

"Close the door, as well, would you?" He got out a bottle, Kassamarian Brandy, and set it between them. "Kya is with her kids, and I'm allowed to indulge myself if I worked hard. Thanks for indulging me out there, I have to keep a family man's face on."

Two glasses were poured, one nudged towards Boros. Solis didn't wait; he threw his back.

Raising an eyebrow, the Vulcan found it curious how quickly the change in personality took place as soon as they were out of view, but he paid no mind to it and closed the door. Taking a seat, he picked up his glass and followed suit. It had a slight burn to it, good flavor, full body. This man knew his liquor.

"Thank you," Sipov replied. "I can understand keeping up appearances, we all have our vices." There was something about this man that valued time to himself more than most others did, Sipov could tell, because he was the same way. It was quite a clue and one that had him wondering just how far the other man's vices might go. He pushed beyond erring in caution and picked up the bottle, refilling both of their glasses.

A grimace at the thought of "vices" was the best Renato could bear. "To speak truthfully ... there's a guilt that I can't break free from, and that enables the cycle ... but a drink after work is a time honored tradition. Kya, however, carries another opinion. I can't drink in front of her for it ... if that explains how we are here and now in my broom closet of an office."

"Guilt can certainly weigh you down, if you allow it to. But I suppose it's different for all of us." This time Sipov took a sip of the alcohol to actually taste it and set the glass back down before choosing to drop the typical song and dance guise that he'd been showing out front as well.

"So, other than the politically correct answers you've already given me, what's the real deal with this place? This station? You've obviously figured out a way to make a living within the system here and help take care of others. The average person doesn't just figure all of that out when things are such a mess. It seems like the "law" allows things that wouldn't be tolerated anywhere except some of the most backwards places. It's apparent in what I've seen in the hallways, and in the reception I've gotten here since I arrived. You and your folks have been extremely hospitable, but the silent observation has been nonstop. No one has a man that large answer the door for the hell of it."

It was honest opinion straight from the source, and that was appreciated. So Renato took him at face value finally. "Kya likely clocked your dependencies. She is protective of this place, no offense intended. I can get a high from someone else, if they get too close, and it triggers my addiction disorders. I can manage, but she likes to keep a sturdy fence anyway. Tannis is a father and good man, he can bend steel, but likes to warm hearts. If you hire him, you'll see for yourself. As for the rest of your query?"

Listening to Renato, the explanation made immediate sense to Sipov. Being an addict alone was hard, especially in a place like this. Having others to protect you was a necessity, but something he rarely ever had for himself. It was likely why he’d struggled as much as he did at times. The Vulcan gave a nod to show acknowledgment and an indication for Renato to continue.

Taking a sip of his second drink, Renato decided to be blunt. They were past small talk. "Brown Sector requires certain survival patterns, putting up a strong front is just part of life here. There are always eyes on you, not just here. If you feel them keenly now, I don’t know you'll enjoy your time here. Once your face is known, people will remember you for a long time, every little thing you do. You see, the community here are survivors, not refugees. At one point we were all tempest tossed, I sank to the bottom and wallowed, others found hold of a new life, and some ...."

Being watched was something the Vulcan was used to, and he was, in ways, more cognizant of it. It was a great barometer of one’s environment. When people paid more attention to you, it meant there were far more concerns and issues than not. It meant there were reasons for people to remain vigilant, stressors that were constant.

Renato gestured broadly, as if to suggest everyone in the scope of the problem they discussed, "Have no clue what to do next. They wake up here, nothing changes. They go to sleep here. Repeat. Are there programs for relocation? Sure. Skills get you out of here, knowledge, even, but what if you had nothing, lost everything, came here with even less than you started with only to have every door slammed in your face because you don't provide a worthwhile skill? When no world will take you unless you agree to strip all former allegiances and renounce your birthrights, when the government you came from no longer exists or the world is sundered and ruined? There are many dead ends, few shortcuts."

Sipov picked up his glass and took another drink as he continued to listen. There were several details beginning to resonate with him personally.

A beat passed, and Renato continued, "So you land an hourly gig at the docks, hack an existence together, maybe even make enough for a spot above Brown Sector. That dream keeps you working. It's not like Starfleet doesn’t see the crime and poverty, but this community exists on its own, and even if they wanted to, they couldn’t justify strong actions, because," he leaned forward, adding intensity to his voice, “we belong here. At this point, it is our home too. They left the station, and we had to fend for ourselves and we did. “

It seemed the truth was the opposite of what the Federation presented to be face value. It wasn’t really their station, in the sense. Sure they ran it now, administrated everything and had it as an official base, but the people he found himself around at the moment were the ones that really kept the place together before receiving further assistance from Starfleet. It reminded Boros of Deep Space Nine, when the Bajorans took over the station but ended up receiving similar help. It became a Federation focal point, and they made sure everyone was aware of it, but the station never really belonged to them.

Solis, hoping that was a salient point to dwell on, took another sip, "Relocating a population all at once like that would be brutal and violent. For Starfleet to return, and boot all of us out would be a PR disaster and incalculably cruel to the people here. Many of us were brought here with no options, just stuck on a transport and shot into the void, landing here as confused as can be, hearing that we are safe and will be taken care of. They broke that promise before, and we hold them to it now.

"We are a part of the Starbase, we are the workers in the coal mines, the mechanics in the shops. So long as we trend upwards, like what this place here aims to accomplish, then Starfleet has to acknowledge our presence here is more than a rabble of refugees. We aren't unique either, similar communities exist all over Federation space wherever tens of thousands of people were sent without a plan in place. Enabling our community to rise on its own merits is the most stable solution for everyone, so what we get is the invisible hand of Starfleet keeping us from sliding backwards."

In truth these people were the backbone of the Starbase, it was more apparent to Sipov now. They were owed and cashing in on it one way or another. And the Federation likely wanted to keep their shortcomings under wraps, which at least in his mind, explained why things were the way they were. What Sipov also heard is that there were several opportunities for him to operate in a less than legal fashion should he choose to do so. That business of course would be kept separate from his other dealings, there was no desire to compromise what he’d established with Jade and Tieran. Perhaps this was another opportunity to establish some further dealings.

“Thank you. I’m sure my stubbornness for a more literal answer was at the very least annoying, but you’ll find I’m a man with little preference for generalization. I do understand keeping up appearances, however. But now that it’s just us, I’ll be straightforward as well. I’m not exactly here because I want to be either. I’m here getting away from something, too. But I’m looking to establish myself and am hoping to have a ship soon. How soon I couldn’t say. But if you know people who are willing to work and be paid a fair wage, I’ll hire them, per job at first.”

More to come ... Who is right? Is it the people here who keep SB109 afloat? Or is it the people above who are necessary? Is the truth somewhere in between?

 

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