Only Forward

Posted on 28 Nov 2021 @ 1:34pm by Commander Calliope Zahn & A'Koja Dea - Private Investigator & Lieutenant Theodore Winslow

Mission: M2 - Sanctuary
Location: OC, Promenade
Timeline: MD10 Mid Morning
1464 words - 2.9 OF Standard Post Measure

Calliope had decided to do some window shopping and order a couple of small custom furnishings for the new quarters that just didn’t come standard with the Quartermaster’s supply or had creators patents that prevented them from being ubiquitous replicator patterns. It was surprising how many designs were still proprietary in an age where a button press could generate many personal effects almost as fast as you could want them. Almost.

Even though she had placed five different orders, they were all pending delivery and she had no actual shopping goods on her person. Which was just as well. Her knees were wearing out and she wasn’t sure how to manage carrying much while working with the cane without making the whole affair even less dignifying than it already was. Maybe, she thought, if she were a distinguished old woman, the cane wouldn’t draw so many glances and looks of pity or confusion. She assumed some people thought she was faking or imagining her trouble. After all, she looked perfectly fine otherwise, didn’t she?

Calliope paused beside a shop window to double check her reflection. She was still thinner in the face than she had ever been used to seeing herself, but other than that, she felt presentable, even… pretty. At least when she let her shoulders and her face relax on a long exhale. Some movement beyond the glass caused her to refocus her eyes beyond her own dim reflection. Inside were two familiar figures— A’Koja Dea, the retired Starfleet Captain turned Private investigator, and Chief of Security, Lieutenant Theodore Winslow. They looked at their ease, as if this were not their first time meeting in this cafe at that particular table. It was set back from the center tables, but with a view of the entry and the window. She wouldn’t have picked the two of them out if A’Koja hadn’t waved to her.

Calliope shuffled inside and paused at the counter to order a hot tea, “In a cup with a cap, please.” She knew her balance was lacking, and she wasn’t sure how long her impromptu hello would be. A to-go cup would let her make her exit briefly and without an awkward self invitation if they didn’t make room for her to sit.

The tea being passed to her and her credits deducted, she joined Theo and A’Koja. “Is this a conference?” she asked. “I’m glad to see that the two of you connected.” Calliope remembered having requested aid from her working friend, A’Koja, after she’d contracted with her for other translation services on some other Missions. But that request had gone in before Calliope's lengthy trip to Medical and she had no idea what had come of it until just then.

“I took the opportunity to start a new office here on OC, actually,’ A’Koja explained. “And Mr. Winslow and I have been conferring regularly on the refugee matter. I’ve got quite a few billing hours to file. Hopefully my services are worth the charges.”

Theo was surprised to see the woman and rose from his seat to greet her. It was an automatic response to someone joining him and he did it without conscious thought. “The Captain has already approved it all.” Winslow said with a roll of his eyes and smile to A’Koja. “Please join us.”

As Calliope took the offered seat, A’Koja continued to slide Winslow some notes she had made with old fashioned paper and pen. “Sorry about the archaic methods. It seemed to make the refugees I interviewed more at their ease when I worked this way instead of with recording tech. But I think this will help understand their collective situation a lot better.”

Theo made no comment over the old fashioned pen and paper. He had grown up on a colony that had frowned at new technology and had been more comfortable with what had been common once upon a time. “Do not apologise.” He said simply sitting back to look at it all.

Calliope glanced over at the thick stack of handwritten notes, the top most being a long list of names which was certainly a much longer than the number that Lance had found stowed away on that supply ship a few weeks before. “I thought there were only a handful of refugees.”

The man smiled patiently as he remembered that the woman would not know about the new developments or changes that had happened. “We had a handful but some new arrivals increased the group and they are now living on the envirodeck much to my surprise.” The surprise was evident about it all on his face. “They had had permission to settle on Obsidian but the Kalaran Counsel rescinded it at the final minute so again they are wanders.” He added sadly.

Calliope hugged her cup for warmth. This was no little ordeal. She remembered the disoriented concern Lance had when there were just a dozen refugees on hand. Now there were hundreds and they were no better off. “Can they be rehomed in Romulan space? Or directed to one of the Free ports in the triangle?”

A’Koja shared a look with Winslow as they both knew things weren’t so simple. The common routes for resettlement of these refugees were unlikely. A’Koja pointed at the notes in Winslow’s hand. “A significant portion of these people have situations in which they directly resisted or became the objects of derision of a particular regime led by a man named Oris Ruvan, formerly a Jr. Senator, now self-proclaimed Chairman of the humbly named Ruvanis Coalition. He’s been consolidating power through various means on multiple worlds in a particular region, and so far has gone unchallenged, as pledges have included quite a number of former fleet ships. Many of the worlds had already been plagued by local contests between warlords and tin pot dictators since the Hobus disaster and destabilization, and so the populaces seemed to roll over easily when offered the protection of the Coalition. Not everyone was well treated however, and those who opposed seemed to get the butt of the rifle or else become outcasts under vicious slander. Once blacklisted, all of their homes and property were often claimed by faithful coalition members.”

Calliope looked sadly down at the table, the funny little irregular patterns of glitter or clouds in the resin like a miniature stellar display, frozen in place. It was the way things shook out and there was nothing for it. “I guess there’s no going back for them. Just moving forward.”

There was not going back for most people. Everyone had to move forward eventually, it was the only way to thrive in the universe. “Can relate a bit there.” The Security Chief murmured to himself before noticing that eyes were on him. He rubbed his forehead wondering how to explain. “Sometimes you cannot change opinions. No matter how hard you try.”

"Sounds like you speak from experience," said A'Koja.

“I left my last posting due to opinions. I am not the easiest person I guess to get to know and someone used that to blame me for an event that caused the loss of a starship. It was not me, was proven not to be me but still the civilians in the colony lost faith. So it made things difficult.” Theo knew that Calliope would know some of the events from his file but there was a lot more to it. It had made him doubt himself, leaving him more depressed by the day until he had seriously considered whether he was a danger for himself and had changed the situation moving on.

"It's tough beating a bad reputation," Calliope commiserated. "Especially in your case, one you didn't deserve." She appeared contemplative.

“Well, the Refugees would move on,” explained A’Koja, picking up on their earlier business, in spite of the more personal introspection of her companions. “Given they have no other choice. But like Mr Winslow said earlier, the Kalaran Council rescinded the settlement plan.”

“I know but… There *has* to be some recourse.” Calliope urged. “Someone needs to speak with the council members and find a way to have it reinstated.”

Even as she spoke, Calliope knew it couldn’t be her right now, and A’koja knew even with her legal training, the Kalarans weren’t currently keen on women in the courtyards of influence. They both looked at Winslow.

“Why are you both looking at me?” The man said before the realisation hit him. “Oh.” He said quietly to himself as she picked up his coffee wishing it was something slightly stronger there and then.