What's in a Name?

Posted on Wed 29th Nov, 2023 @ 1:14pm by Captain Gordon Francis & Commander T'Venderath & Commander Paul Graves PsyD & Kya Adtanis

1,766 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: O' the Cardiff Rose
Location: Conference Room 1
Timeline: MD 2 - 0900 hours

{Community Resource Center- Brown Sector}

~Four hours before meeting with CPT Francis.~

Kya hadn't slept all night. The appointment was in a few hours, where she would essentially be representing the citizens of Brown Sector. Renato had gone off to his home world, and now she was alone in her anxious pacing. Population statistics, barriers to entry, a thousand reasons why people had arrived with no place else to go and found a home here swirling in her mind. Hasskin had learned to walk much better watching her pace and going right alongside her, stumbling occasionally on the sharp pivots. Trying every remedy for sleep had clearly not worked, she could not stay still without panic clawing out of every pore.

This was important. She knew it had to go well or the status quo would continue. Her thoughts raced, wrapping themselves around the problems like a Q. Was this even going to work? The salience of her anxiety basked in mystery, certain of failure without cause. Time passed, and gnawed at Kya with worry. She trusted these people, they were good people.

A sharp chime alarmed her to the time she had intended to awake. Four hours to go. The chime woke up Hasskin as well, who stared in bleary eyed toddler face at her.

"Mama?"

Kya picked him up and in the soothing shushes found peace herself, sleep coming at last. Lexy was still sleeping, so she sat in the old wooden chair for those with fidgety legs, a gift from a former resident long gone. Within moment the community rocking chair stopped rocking as Kya finally fell asleep.


==== Conference Room ====

By the time Francis dressed into his uniform and entered the conference room, the thought was washed away.

Paul entered the conference room a couple of minutes later, PADD in one hand and tea mug in the other. "Good morning," he said to Gordon and stifled a yawn. "Remind me again why we scheduled this meeting so early?" His smile indicated he was joking, but it faded swiftly as he seated himself and switched his PADD on.

Captain Francis yawned. "Mr. Graves, warn me next time you release a virus so contagious as a yawn. Given the amount of time we've known each other I don't think it's been long enough for bad habits to have shed off on others."

"Alas, I have a full stock of my own bad habits," Paul said, "including staying up too late in bed, reading." He sipped from his masala chai. "Ah, that's better. I think I can keep my eyelids propped open now." He began dancing his fingertips over his PADD until the agenda Francis had sent appeared on his screen. It was blessedly brief; just one item. "I appreciate you taking an interest in Brown Sector, Captain. Captain Navarra had begun to, before she was reassigned."

T'Venderath entered the room, alert and in uniform. She took her place at the table and greeted each man with a nod. "Captain. Counselor."

Paul gave T'Venderath a polite nod but didn't offer any pleasantries, as she seemed to dislike them.

It was not a moment past 0901 Kya entered with an almost aggressive energy. Her anxiety manifested as a feisty defensiveness where her eyes narrowed and brow furrowed. With nostrils flared the doors barely opened in time for her entry. Thankfully her awareness caught how frenetic she was seeming and slowed to a normal cadence sitting with one seat from the Vulcan at the table. Her hands were so hot they generated beads of moisture on the glass surface.

Francis nodded as he looked around the table. "I believe that's everyone. This meeting was requested well before this station's last CO left, so without any further delay, let's get this going. Ms. Adtanis, you have the floor."

Kya was unaccustomed to the speed of Starfleet’s briefings. They were over fast, remembered names, had no need for small talk. She was sociable enough to understand her usual skills were no good here. For a moment she felt Renato’s absence at her side keenly. They had always been a team, but his life had taken a turn and now she was here by herself.

No, I am not alone. I have my family and a community of good people behind me. She let herself feel everything and used a calming breath to center herself.

“Yes, thank you for seeing me, it means a great deal to us you’ve made this a priority.”

Francis nodded. "You're welcome. We're ready to hear what you have to say."

Kya didn't have a programmed display or any visual outside of a drawing from the Community Center. The image was simple, but profound. In most societies, gravity on a planet side meant homes had a roof, walls, and were oriented in similar ways. The image of a box with a door and window, or of a tent whose broad base hugs the ground, or the bell-shaped baskets of the cliff dwellers is recreated by children across time to represent the concept of, “This is where I live with my family.”

Kya unfolded it on the table, it was large enough to nearly spill over the edges on either side of the table.

The imagery was unmistakable, a family, a fire, food, and dance. A happy memory done in waxy crayons and colored charcoal, a memory of home. In the crowd watching the dancers, the image was clearly depicting Starfleet officers cheering, a mix of people, and the floor to ceiling observation windows which lined the decks.

“Starbase 109 is a home to a growing community of people who have known these walls, those windows, these crowds, since they were born. They have become naturalized citizens of this base, not as a temporary occupancy but rather as a home where they ran and played as children. We have adults now, working in the loading bays, sapping with engineers, they live, they love, they work hard for a better future. But they are stateless.”

Kya stopped for a moment, afraid she was going on too long. Renato had always let the words roll off of his silver tongue, and if he couldn’t be here then she’d need to do it for herself.

“Some refugees who first came here, almost thirty years ago, have never left. Many of us have no place to go, no means to start over, or even have a past which haunts us and robs us of agency. Starfleet has given us a place to live, and we have made it our home. But we don't have a home in a legal sense, do we?”

As she found her voice, the words came to her faster and with ease. When speaking from the heart, truths pour like honey.

“When Starfleet left the base during the war, we carried on, and were a part of this base family and community, because where else did we have to go? Refugees abounded, we took on hundreds a day at one point, and most were placed quickly and moved on, some got stuck. When Starfleet returned, the policy was hands off as we had since made ourselves into a stronger community, helping one another, giving the newcomers a feeling of hope. Renato and I started the Community Resource Center as a place for weary heads to find a place to rest, a place for home and comfort. But now it's job placement, refugee program assistance, there’s a law and order being established, a separate one from Starfleet Security as a courtesy. The challenges we have overcome, and the reality we face is that we are here now an organized civil group of families and good people who know this place as a home.”

The selling point was here, now. She had hopes the foundation was set so her proposal wasn’t disregarded as improbable. The momentum was good, and she pressed it with a frantic energy.

“I propose for your consideration, formalizing the roles of many organizations within Brown Sector into operational capacities within Starbase 109’s hierarchy, as a prelude to the recognition of what will become an incorporated township within the base’s borders. We would also, of course, need to rename the sector as well. I am not sure why we are the only location in the base with a color, and why brown is beyond me, but I think I’ve hit the end of my useful words…. So ….”

"I was told it was called Brown Sector because so many of the residents there wear brown work uniforms," Paul said. "Officially, those decks are designated simply as evacuee housing and have no formal name aside from that--similar to how the North and South Perry Gardens decks were nicknamed that as a pun on a Federation Standard grammatical prefix. People thought it was amusing, and the name stuck."

Kya appreciated the gentle prompt to open the floor for further dialogue, Renato had said to trust him.

"That all makes sense," Captain Francis remarked. "But 'Brown Sector' does not sound like a flattering name to me." He set his hands gently on the table. "Ms. Adtanis, I want to thank you for your proposal. Your words were indeed very useful. What kinds of resources do you need from us?"

"Hope," T'Venderath said before Kya could answer. Then to everyone's puzzled face she clarified, "As a possible new name for the township, befitting the more positive conceptualization she is trying to illustrate." Then looking to Kya she said, "Or perhaps the Bajoran equivalent?"

Captain Francis crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "Hope... perhaps. I'm sure the people there have plenty of hope. But I believe hope is just a wish, a maybe, or an if-only. It's a dream. My father always said a dream only comes true if one has the guts to pursue it."

Francis looked at Kya and smiled. "That's what you're doing, Ms. Adtanis. Maybe we should be naming Brown Sector after you."

The compliment hit well, resolving a knot of anxiety right away. Kya smiled and took her seat finally, replying to Captain Francis and Commander T'Venderath with, "A name is very important. 'Hejallo' means a 'desire for prosperity' in Bajoran, we will consider it. I am glad you recognize the importance of this to our sense of identity. We are having a holiday popular among the human resident of the Sector soon, we'd love to have all of you come and see the festivities."

Francis nodded. "Wouldn't miss it! I love a good shindig!"

 

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