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Setting out a shingle

Posted on Wed Nov 2nd, 2022 @ 8:43pm by Jillian Forst

1,682 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Episode 5 - Objects In Motion
Location: Promenade

"Next" the line shuffled forward,
"Next" the line shuffled forward again,
"Next" the line shuffled forward once again,
"Next" the line shuffled forward a fourth time,

Jill rolled her eyes, she was getting too old to deal with bureaucratic nonsense. Forst counted in her head all the things she hated. She hated Federation customs, she hated standing in line. She hated Nor class stations. She hated smelly transports. Four, four things she hated, culminated in a trip on a transport over several thousand light years, sitting next to a blubbering Bolian whom smelled like the inside of an old shoe, to a Nor class station, in a line fifteen deep, waiting for a "random" customs inspection. Why was she always selected for the "random" search.

This, was hell, or something coming close to it.

Was this punishment for a previous life? Someone put a curse on her? Was it that Bajoran monk that she ripped off?

"Hey!" a Klingon broke her from her trance. "Move up, before I move you up."

Jill noticed she was next. "Alright, alright, I don't know why you are so eager to get on this hulk." The detective move forward and dropped her credentials down on the lectern, where a disinterested Federation official stood.

"Name?"

"Detective Jillian Forst"

"Age?"

"Isn't it rude to ask someone their age?"

"It is just a question I have to ask, I'll put declined."

"I mean, it's all in my docume" She was cut off

"Duration of stay?"

"Until I get bored."

The official looked up, frowned and back down. There wasn't a listing for that.

"I'll mark down six months plus. Any fruits or vegetables?"

"No" She rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Do you have a sponsor?"

"I'm not dry."

"I'll put no."

"Whatever"

"Do you have accommodations on station?"

"I'm just going to find a corridor, put my hat down over my eyes, and hope I get picked up by station security, less expensive that way."

The official looked up at her. "Any accomo"

"Yes" it was dry, full of pain.

"Any known warrants for your arrest?"

"Would I tell you?"

"Probably not, I'll put none known."

"You do you buddy."

"Any known diseases or illness?"

She coughed very loudly and turned towards the Klingon who was getting angry. She coughed again towards him. He backed up. Jill turned back towards the official before coughing loudly again. "Nope, I'm good."

"Any fruits or vegetables?"

She could feel her soul dying a bit inside of her. "No"

He's getting some kind of sick power trip out of this

"Any relations on the station?"

"I don't know, you're kind of cute."

"I'll put no for that. Reason for visit?"

"I heard there was a good bar here."

"Anything to declare?

"Am I done?"

"Anything, to, Declaaaaaaare" He strung out the last bit. The line was getting restless.

"I Jillian Forst, of sound mind, body, and soul, do solemnly swear that as the prophets as my witness, I will gain my revenge, now or in the future, and I shall not be denied that satisfaction of watching those that have wronged me in the past will be brought to justice. This I vow, my last breath ever will be committed to making those pay, pay for their insignificance and wretched wickedness."

"I'm sorry, I stopped paying attention, can you repeat that?"

"no", she let it escape from her mouth, defeated, broken by government bureaucracy.

"Welcome to deep space twenty one. Enjoy your stay. Next!" he no longer paid Jill attention, before waving her away. The Klingon was near tears as it was his turn.

The Promenade was bustling; shops, cafes, beings from every area of the quadrant and beyond, trading, laughing. The detective pushed through it all, a cloud hanging over her in stark comparison to the joy around her. Her destination, a small storefront and apartment combination, and although, the promenade was a circle, it felt like her new office was at the end.

She spotted it, down the hall, next to a noodle shop. The only reason she had come out here was that Mr. Tan had set up his noodle stand. He purchased the space and the storefont next to his.

"Jill!" Tan yelled from behind the counter. "You made it! I'm so excited to see you!" The old man smiled, held up his hands. "Come! Get a bowl!"

For the first time, a smile crept across her face. She readjusted her bag over her shoulder and walked up to an empty stool at the counter. "You know I hate these stations."

"I know, but, I have it on good authority that your landlord is a good guy, great chef! Worries about you." He handed a bowl and chopsticks across the counter. Spicy ramen, just like you like it."

"Thanks dad." She smiled and took the bowl. "I can't believe you got me out here. I was fine back on Earth." She took the chopsticks and slurped down the noodles. "I mean, I'm in for this."

"Good! Good! Besides, I told your parents I would take care of you, I didn't know you'd be such a pain in the ass." The Orion sitting at the bar slurped the last of the noodles and through a few strips of Latinum on the counter. "Thank you! Come again!" He grabbed the strips then rooted around in his pocket for a key strip. "Here! Your apartment awaits!" he tossed the key and two strips to her.

"Ohh.. you shou"

"Stop!"

"Ok." She slurped a noodle. "How did you end up back out here."

"Bored" Tan popped a top on a bottle and dropped it in front of her. "I was sitting at home, watching holonews, eating, sleeping." He cleaned up the spot the Orion had been sitting at. "You know me, need a bit of spice."

"Yeah, you and me both." the chopsticks clinked against the bowl as she ate. The liquid in the bottle stung her throat.

"The apartment and office are all yours, don't worry about rent, I've got it."

"Dad, I don't want,"

"Stop it Jilly, like I said, I promised your parents to take care of you I haven't done a great job, but hey! New starts and frontiers!" Tan smiled.

"You are the only person who gets away with Jilly, and you've done a great job, I'm the one who hasn't been good."

"Jilly, eat up, you are fine! And you are here now! Finish up and then go check out the office, you'll like it! I had it cleaned!" Tan went to the back of the stall to clean up some things. Leaving Jill alone, with a bowl of noodles, her thoughts, and a promenade full of people.

As she ate the rest of her lunch, thoughts turned towards the office next door and the small apartment. It likely was the same as it was on DS Twelve. It was sweet that Tan invited her out here. She really didn't have much going on, so it was probably better to be out here. Perhaps she would start up a paint gallery, or a studio, she always tried to get into pottery but never got the hang of it. What about a noodle shop? She knew most of Tan's recipes.

One lonely noodle sat in the bottom of the bowl. Tan always told her it was bad luck to eat the last noodle, something about leaving it for the ancients or something or nother. She hadn't paid attention. She grabbed her sticks and picked it up. The noodle twisted like a worm between the two pieces of wood.

The noodle was about to go in her mouth when she heard a squeaking, or maybe more of a bit of a snarl. A small vole sat at the base of her spool, standing on on its hind legs, its front four making a little begging motion.

"Where did you learn that?" Jill dropped the noodle to the vole which took it and scurried away. "Well, I guess I didn't finish it." She stood and stretched her back. May as well lean into this "Tan! I'm turning in, I'll talk to you tomorrow."

The key slid into the slot of the storefront. The door slid open. Inside was a desk, a few cabinets, chairs, computer station. Typical accommodations. On the desk was a tea pot, a note, and piece of wood. Jill walked over to the note leaning against the pot.

Jilly, thank you for coming out and joining me, I had the apartment cleaned and new sheets and comfy blankets. Use my replicator credits to get whatever else you need. The teapot is for you, better than coffee, though I'm sure you won't use it. I also had one of the local artisans make you a new sign, with one that says open and closed. Love you, my daughter, I'm glad you are here. Deng Tan "Dad"

Jill stared at the teapot. The anger and frustration of the day concentrate melted away. She was glad that Tan called her out here. Maybe this was a good fourth or fifth new start, she had lost count. The stress of the day, now gone from her in a silent tears down her face. She put the note down gently next to the teapot, and flipped the sign around that was leaned against the desk. Tan had taken her logo and made a shingle out of it.

Jill, Jilly, Jillian, Forst, Detective, ass, punk, bitch, huuuuman, and various other curses in hundreds of languages. All names she had heard. Daughter never among them. Until Tan. She picked up the shingle, and placed it outside the front door with the Closed sign over the blue of the Prophet Eye Investigations logo.

"I always hatted pottery anyways." She saw her bag by the noodle shop seat, good thing she had come back out. She grabbed the bag, made one last glance at Tan, then vanished into the office, looking for the bed that Tan had promised.

 

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