Lacking the Appropriate Forms

Posted on 29 Jan 2023 @ 2:15pm by Moon-Young Chung
Edited on on 29 Jan 2023 @ 3:24pm

Mission: M3 - Into the Deep
Location: Starship Docking Berths
Timeline: MD 09: 0930 HR
2004 words - 4 OF Standard Post Measure

The great doors that protected Obsidian Command’s docks from the vacuum of space began to slowly slide back. The movement reminded Moon of the fantasy holodeck programs she’d run as a girl and the mighty gates of a medieval hold slowly creaking open. She half expected a knight in shining mail to come bounding out on a white charger, lance raised in greeting. Surprisingly, her imagination wasn’t far off: a single fighter exited the doors moving directly toward them. There were two on either side of the Erabaki Ona. These had intercepted the freighter at the edge of the system and escorted them to the station. They were out of sight somewhere behind, cautiously following at a distance. No one on the freighter crew knew what the extra security was about, but none of it concerned Moon. She thought her journey was nearly over.

It was the first time she’d docked at a station. On that one trip to Risa years before her ship had never stopped at one.

The new experience and the promise of seeing Rice again had Moon too excited to sit in the seat she’d been offered on the small bridge. Instead, she stood bouncing on her toes, eyes wide as she tried to capture the entire experience in her memory. The others were seat at their stations, working the controls with the smoothness of thousands of rehearsals: Malkis Kalts, the captain, was at conn guiding the ship in; Cuvi Buskon communicated quietly with Obsidian Command’s flight control, every once and a while giving Malkis directions. Q’or sat silently, as was his custom, arms folded and not appearing to do anything other than occasionally messing with a dial at his elbow.

A large silver rectangular case, nearly the size of Moon’s suitcase, sat on the floor at the Klingon’s feet. She’d never seen it before and was about to ask when Cuvi began to speak; Moon’s eye snapped back to the front and out the canopy.

“They’re wanting us at Airlock 14. There should be…there it is. Our escort shuttle is approaching from port,” Cuvi told Malkis, indicating the direction with a bob of her head.

Moon’s gaze caught the shuttle, a small craft with red blinking lights on its aft, come into her view out the ship’s canopy. She followed it until it took up a position directly in front of them. The fighter that had been coming directly at them peeled away. Even though she couldn’t see the other two, she assumed they too were looping back into space.
Creeping in at low impulse, the Erabaki Ona crossed Obsidian Command’s threshold.

The size of Obsidian Command had been impressive from the outside, but the view from inside sank Moon into her seat. It was the largest room she’d ever seen. Blue, white, red, and green lights lit up the gray interior; some were steady, others flashed uneven pulses. Moon glanced to the left, seeing the ship pass by a window. Inside, she could see a multitude of uniformed individuals sitting at desks or looking up to watch the Erabaki Ona glide by. One, an Andorian, took a long pull from a tall mug as she eyed the newly arrived ship. The overall experience was dreamlike.

And then she saw the ships. There were at least a couple dozen moored at the airlocks, each seemingly unique. A sleek brown and gold colored starship floated next to a mottled green and grey vessel that looked like boulders lashed together in a ship-like shape. A pale bronze-colored ship the shape of a half-inflated balloon was nearby. Moon scanned the others, looking for the tell-tale saucer shape of any Starfleet ships, but there were none to be seen.

“Q’or, take Moon to get her luggage. Don’t forget that silver case. We’ll be at the airlock in just a few,” Malkis ordered without looking up.
The Klingon gave the dial one last turn and then slowly stood up from his seat, picking up the case. Moon rose, too.

“Are you coming down after we – er – land? Dock? To say goodbye?” Moon asked the other two crewmembers on the Bridge, although, in truth, she was directing the question mostly at Malkis.

Cuvi opened her mouth to respond, but Malkis spoke first. “Q’or will get you to your boyfriend or whatever he is. It’s been a pleasure having you aboard.”

It was a brisk dismissal and Moon stood there, stunned. Just a few hours before he’d been suggesting she stay and now…

Now. She was getting off here to find Rice. A captain scorned, apparently, behaved like a five-year-old who didn’t get their after-dinner candy.

Moon gave Cuvi a quick hug (as well as she could with the Zibalian was seated behind a holographic console, anyway) and followed Q’or out the door. She and he made their way to her quarters, quickly grabbed her red luggage. Together they hauled their awkward cases down the narrow corridors of the Erabaki Ona to the airlock at the bow of the ship. Risos, the cargo engineer, stood next to the hatch checking its controls.
He smiled as they approached, “Only a micron to go. Should be any time.”

As the words left Risos’s mouth, Moon heard a whoomph as the station’s and ship’s airlocks sealed together. The Arkarian quickly entered his code into the control panel and the hatch slid open, the station’s just a moment behind.

Two Starfleet personnel with gold collars stood a few feet away on the other side in what Moon thought looked a circular closet. There was nothing in the space, save for a small, square black control panel with a blue light blinking lazily in its upper right corner. A hallway jotted off and away to the left to a closed door, The taller of the two, a human with his hair styled into frozen golden waves, but a pinched, sour face put on the air of being bored. He impatiently tapped his foot and yawned, covering his mouth with the PADD he held.

The other, a short, stocky Tellarite female with a swarthy complexion and dark, almost blood-red bobbed hair examined each of the three new arrivals with an intense suspicion, her hand never leaving the butt of her phaser. Her eyes lingered on Q’or the longest.

“SS Erabaki Ona, please state the nature of your visit,” the human asked, his voice confirming the tedious look was not an affect.
“Passenger service,” Risos said.

“Name of the passengers disembarking on Obsidian Command and point of origin?”

Risos nudged Moon and she realized it was a question she was supposed to answer. “Chung Moon-Young. Earth.”

The man sighed. “Earth is a big place. Point of origin?” he repeated.
“Er – North America? Sioux Falls?”

“Okay,” he tapped in the information. “How long are you planning on remaining on the station?”

“Um. I don’t know. If everything works out, indefinitely?”

“I don’t have a record of you receiving permission for permanent residency. Have you applied?”

Moon suddenly felt as a student arriving in the class for the first time only to discover she’d missed an entire semester and had to take a test immediately. “I didn’t know…”

He sighed again and tapped quickly on his PADD. “Chung Moon-Young. Resident of New York City, United Earth. Daughter of Chung Dae-Jung and Pak Bong Cha. Is this information correct?”

“You can just look that up? Can you do that for anyone?”

Another sigh. “Based on your status as a citizen of the Federation, you’ll be granted a temporary residency for 180 days. This will give you time to complete the application. You access is limited to the Promenade and whichever section you’re assigned quarters.”

“I’m actually here to be with me…well, hopefully to be with my boyfriend. Er. Fiancé. Maybe.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s sort of difficult to explain, but maybe you could let him know I’m here? Maurice Reubens?”

He stared at her as if she was the worst thing to happen to him today before tapping again on his PADD. In a few seconds he announced, “Lieutenant Commander Reubens is not on the station. He left for the planet surface this morning.”

“When will he be back?”

He emitted the largest most annoyed sigh yet. “Ma’am, I am not his assistant.”

“Well, I didn’t think you were, I just was hoping…”

“I have no record of the Commander filling the appropriate forms pertaining to a civilian partner joining him at his posting.”

“See we broke up…but I realized I’d made a mistake…or maybe not a mistake, but I realized…too much information. Anyway then I thought it’d be more romantic if I just showed up unannounced –”

The man gave her an icy stare and held up his hand interrupting her. “You have 180 days to complete a Civilian Permanent Residency Application two-one-two-rho or for Lieutenant Command Reubens to complete the Starfleet Personnel-Civilian Partner Declaration Form forty-five-twenty-seven-alpha. In the meantime, you’ll need to fill out the Temporary Civilian Quarters Form nineteen-six-delta and submit that for immediate processing.”

“What were those numbers again – ” Moon began to ask, but the officer was obviously done with her as he was already focused on Risos again.

“Do you have any other passengers or cargo you’ll be offloading at this time?”

“No. My Captain informed me, however, that our chief engineer Q’or will be escorting Ms. Chung until she finds her, uh, quarters. We’ll also being staying docked while we see if we can find any clients on the station. The crew will be disembarking, but will quarter on the Erabaki Ona. We, uh, should have transmitted all the correct forms.”

Risos looked at Moon and shrugged apologetically. Had everyone known about these forms, but her? They’d just spent over three weeks together. Couldn’t someone have asked? Ugh.

“All the forms seem to be in order,” the man gave Moon a long look. See? it seemed to say, This is was being prepared looks like.

“If you find any clients on the station, you’ll need to register the work with Station Operations, Security, and Flight Control. After disembarking, please go to the nearest bank of turbolifts and take those to the Promenade. Ms. Chung, you’ll find an Operations substation there which can help you find quarters. If there is anything more we can do for you, please don’t hesitate to contact us.”

As soon as he finished his rote oration, the man turned on his heel and marched away down the corridor, with the Tellarite on his heels. The door at the end of the hall opened with a hiss and closed with a definite hush.

“Well, now what?” she asked Risos.

“Well, head on down to the Promenade and find that substation and fill out form blah-blah-beta. Or blah-blah-delta. Is it okay that Q’or stays with you until you find your…er…friend?”

Moon nodded enthusiastically. There was nothing worse than being in a strange new place and not knowing anyone. “Thank you, Risos.”
“It’s nothing. Before we shove off, I’ll find you and say a proper goodbye. In the meantime, good luck!”

Despite his assurance of finding her again, Moon gave him a quick hug just in case. Straightening her back, she adjusted her grip on her suitcase and stepped into Obsidian Command. I will find Rice, she thought to herself. And it will be okay.

“As long as I can remember which form to fill out, I guess,” she mumbled to herself as the door at the end of the hall opened to let her pass.