If Opportunity Doesn't Knock
Posted on Fri 9th Jul, 2021 @ 5:50am by Chief Petty Officer Larry Kersenboom (Ret.) & Renato Solis
Edited on on Fri 9th Jul, 2021 @ 5:53am
1,940 words; about a 10 minute read
Mission:
Waging Peace
Location: Brown Sector Community Center, Deck 2245
Timeline: MD-2, 0900 hours
Larry Kersenboom poked his nose out of the turbolift and looked around at Deck 2245. It didn't look so bad. The bank of turbolifts opened into a roughly circular plaza-looking area, encircled by six broad-leafed potted plants and was reasonably well lit.
"Sir, do you work here?" The voice of a husky older man called the very moment the face broke the doors' plane. Human, bald, overweight and with an ugly smile rudely accented with yellow teeth. Spotting the oddly bright clothing, the gnarly figure called out to the man poking his nose out.
Larry blinked. He wore a Hawaiian shirt, khakis, and a pair of flip-flops. "First, don't call me 'sir.' I work for a living--or used to. Second, do I look like I work here?" He sized the man up and concluded that the guy was possible trouble--and stupid trouble, at that, accosting someone right at the lift platform. "Do you work here?"
The highwayman was not used to the frank conversation. Usually he picked the softest targets and followed or harassed them. The shirt and sandals meant this guy should have been a soft target, not this. Fwedick tried to be witty, "I ain't accosting nobody. I need me a friend to help me out, guessin' that ain't you. Could've made a coin or two, finding someone..." The search would definitely lead to a dark corridor with good sound dampening qualities.
"I don't know you, so if you're looking for a friend to help you out, you've definitely got the wrong guy," Larry assured him in no uncertain terms. "Have a good day." He veered off to where he saw a notice board on the wall and went to read the items there, curious to see if the guy would follow him.
At the board he saw advertisements for a medical clinic, a counseling clinic, a library, rooms to let in The Zodiac, a school, makeshift notes pinned to the board all over on little scraps of paper, and at last a sheet of flimsiplast that read, "Renato's - Find Help Here."
"I think that's the place," Larry muttered, making note of the address. Now to figure out how to get there. If the numbering system went anything like the way it did on the other decks, he suspected he could generally find his way. This deck, however, didn't look like it conformed precisely to Starfleet blueprints. This might not be a good adventure; it's not starting in a tavern, he thought in a fit of whimsy. Ah, well. On with it, anyway.
He glanced at Big, Bald, and Ugly for a moment to see what he was doing and then began walking in the direction where the community center seemed to be.
Fwedick marked the man's face for next time, resetting himself for another unwitting mark. He watched as Larry walked out of the Zodiac, idly feeling frustration.
Sections 211-247 A,B,C described a grouping of neighborhood clusters that had merged and reshaped the deck over time. Doors came down, panels were removed, tents were made or structures erected that covered floor to ceiling, adding new rooms entirely. This swirl of people had made the space their own, grew their own food, had their own internal city. This group of near a thousand knew each other well, and at the center, 221-B was a beacon of light in the dimly lit swamp of misanthropy. Here, people controlled their environment, used lamps or other sources of light, kept to themselves and made do when things broke.
Renato was outside the center, a family of four had graduated into a real apartment near Tivoli Gardens, the mothers research had been accepted into a program and their lives were on the return to normal. Bittersweet farewells and long goodbyes echoed with sentiment down the corridors with fading light. Kya was receiving the bundle of goods from them to be given to the next family in need, and was crying ever so slightly at the memories of these toys and simple clothes. These two had come with a baby in hand, from terrible strife to find themselves here in the center for three years before making their way back to functional. A fourth child had occurred along the way as well. Life could bestow great gifts even after taking great tolls.
Well, Larry thought as he strolled down the internecine corridors of Brown Sector, if nothing else, he could at least fix the lighting down here. What was up with Starfleet, that they couldn't change a few light bulbs? His chief, back before he'd ever been a CPO himself, would have reamed him up one side and down the other for letting this many lighting panels go out without being replaced.
He came upon what looked like a leave-taking and carefully avoided it, not wanting to intrude. The place he sought was on the other side of the small group of people and pair of young children. Larry located the sign that said Renato's and figured he'd found the right place. Interestingly, it was well lit. Maybe people liked it dark in this neck of the woods? He skirted the group and stepped inside the community center.
There was a scent, soap Renato had never smelled before and was not able to place. It preceded the man, and Renato turned an eye for a split second to see the man waiting. Business came at all hours, and his curiosity lead the way. With a final squeeze of the shoulder to congratulate her he wished them all well and turned away to greet the Human. Kya took over in an instant, familiar with their unspoken protocols.
"Hello, it seems you were looking for this place, or for me perhaps?" He didn't extend his hand as per custom with touch telepaths, he dipped his head slightly in deference, a cross between a bow and a curtsy.
"Hi," Larry said. "Are you Renato?" He almost extended his hand, but some vestige of Basic Training from decades ago cautioned him not to shake hands with an Ullian. "My name's Larry Kersenboom. I'm retired and need something to do with my time. Durant up at the repair shop told me to come down here to see if you guys needed any volunteer repair work done. I saw a bunch that I'd like to do on the way here from the lifts, but I'd rather see if you folks have priorities. Or if you even want repair work done at all."
Renato felt his own fear response, Larry was an authority figure in some fashion, but quickly tamped it down. This man presented no signs of dishonesty.
The man's straight-backed bearing and direct manner indicated military service in the past, which was at variance with the casual way he dressed now.
That he mentioned wanting to find work as a repairman bespoke service in the enlisted ranks, rather than the officer ones. That he mentioned the Durant repair shop and seeing repairs he wanted to do demonstrated the genuineness of his offer--though he might have simply been stating the obvious.
..."Well I say thank you for one, and thank you again for coming here first. There is a list, let me tell you. Care for a bite or a drink as we talk it over? I can give you an idea of how things are down here?"
"I never pass up tea," Larry said. "But were you saying good-bye to those folks over there? I can wait."
Acknowledging the gracious offer, Renato bowed slightly and declined with a hand gesture slashing gently in the air, "Only a "see you later." I plan to drop in tomorrow with a housewarming gift or two depending on how their new apartment is appointed."
"Okay, then," Larry said. "Wherever you want to sit, I'm fine with." He glanced around at the center's current occupants. There were still a good number of visitors in for breakfast and the aroma of delicious food filled the air. "Do you get a lot of people in here every day?"
Renato pointed to one of the many tables in the open area outside the center, "Over here, we do get lots of traffic, feeding people was our very first mandate, and I'd say a quarter of the population comes through here twice a day. You said tea? Ever tried twice-brewed Kettle teas from Andak's, the one just down the hall from here?" he asked in a subtle manner to dig for more information, collecting any data he could.
"Nope. I didn't know this deck existed until Durant told me about it. Today is my first visit down here," Larry said, "but if Andak makes good tea, I'll stop by there on my way back to my place and see what I can buy. I can always use something to keep me awake for late-night gaming. Thanks for the heads-up."
The mention of gaming was a delightful announcement. He took the opportunity to look at the man the way a gambler sizes his mark. Taking Larry in stride though meant realizing right away he was not a gambler. Imperceptible limp and demeanor was ex military, graceful and charming, up in age for a Human but the impressions he had taken earlier had updated. No Jewelry and immaculate casual shoes defied useful data. As open book as the man seemed he was very nondescript and played a good game of hiding his thoughts. This man was formerly Starfleet, with limited knowledge of the station, workman's hands, exploring the slums. He now saw an adventurer in plain clothes, a man of means with no toiling to foist himself upon. Someone on a quest for a mission. If this man gamed it was simulation gaming.
They arrived and Renato took his seat at the table, making eye contact with a lad working the tables. It was community service for the little cutpurse, and they liked to put him to use. 'The hands holding a mop can't pick your pocket' Kya said once and they had chuckled for days over it. Andak was a mysterious old man, who ran the best tea shop anywhere in the galaxy Renato had been. The man had stores so deep you couldn't flummox him. if it was boiled water and leaf, Andak had it in his impossibly deep stores. You could try and stump him once per day for a free cup if he didn't have it. Decades running, nobody had gotten a free cup off him.
Casually he spoke to Larry without special emphasis, "Oh, what's your game? I throw dice myself, or perhaps we are donning capes and speaking in accents?"
He handed the young man a slip, upon it written, "Andaluvian Black Gold, Rigel spiced honey/Siccall's 4th Symphony on Ice with light cream, chef's choice/ anything you'd like, bring me the change.
He never expected to get the change back, but that wasn't the point.
Larry grinned. "I throw dice, too. They usually have six, ten, or twenty sides to them. You ever hear of an Earth role-playing game called Dungeons and Dragons? I play a homemade variant of it that a friend of mine designed. She created a world, and the rest of our group fleshed it out over a lot of years. Kind of scary to think we've been doing this together for over forty years now."
There was a hint of deep sadness connected with mention of the group.
(To be continued.)
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