K-052: Live Session Summary Part 2, Gateway Orbital Station
On the other side of the space station doors there are some military-looking types in brown and blue uniforms, and a couple of civilian types with them.
One of the civilian steps forwards, and says, “Welcome to the People’s Independent Electorate!”
“Thanks,” says Oliver quietly.
“My name is Vern, I’m with the Immigration Service here.
“I don’t know how much you’ve told, but, you’re welcome to come in, Strangers. Now, we pay these folk,” he gestures toward the Welcome Wagon Crew, “we pay these folk a fee from the government to help us with our immigration from the Dominion. So depending on what your situation is and what skills you can bring we’d like to find out so we can find out what, what these good folk should be paid. So, would you uh would you be willing to come and have an interview?”
Oliver responds, “Sure. Yeah, I’ll do that.”
‘Military-looking types’ – the Electorate Ground Militia
The family of five are led away by one of the other civilian types; Vern stays with Oliver. One of the Military types notes Oliver’s weapon. He seems happy when Oliver packs it away in his bag where it is not reachable, though he doesn’t attempt to seize it.
The orbital station is in slightly better condition than the ship Oliver was just on, which was decidedly showing its age. But, he notes a feel of it being different technology, and less-advanced technology. What also stands out to someone with an eye like Oliver’s is that the Separatists have made obvious different design choices. For example, all the decks here are metal and everyone wears Mag Boots. Whereas in the Dominion, the decks tend to be rubbery and everyone wears gecko shoes. Aesthetically, there is more exposed piping and duct work, it is more concealed and visually easier on the eye, compared to the Welcome Wagon, but it still has a frumpy, gritty, industrial feel to it compared to a Dominion Highport.
Vern leads Oliver through the station to an interview room. There are a few people around, but not many; Oliver suspects they may be not passing through the public areas, plus it is late.
As it is late, Vern offers, “so, get you anything drink. You hungry?”
“Yeah, just a snack and a coffee, please.”
When they arrive at the room there is a young man there and Vern asks him to fulfil Oliver’s snack order. The room itself is an ordinary affair – a table and four basic metal chairs. While they are getting comfortable the young man returns with a coffee and a sandwich in a wrapper; the quality is basic cafeteria-level, but it’s sustenance and caffeine. Oliver has a momentary thought that he might have been spoiled aboard Welcome Wagon with Moloney’s cooking.
Vern begins, “So, it’s Oliver?”
“That’s me – Starr. Yes.”
“Can I see a tag? Is that alright?
“Sure.”
Oliver hands Vern his Dominion ID tag.
Vern seems surprised, “Oh, that’s a gold one! We ,uh, we don’t see many of those.”
Oliver is reserved, “Well, here’s one more.”
Vern has computer unit on his desk, it looks ‘clunky’ to Oliver’s eyes. There’s a little box on the side, obviously an add-on with a jury-rigged look about it, and he taps Oliver’s tag on it.
“Thank you. So that’s quite a story?” Vern prompts Oliver.
“Not too much of one. But if it helps with the report, sure.”
“So, Forerunner-”
“Oliver’s fine.”
Vern nods, “Oliver then, what do you do? What’s your story?”
“I am a computer electronics expert who has worked both privately and for the Vizierate over in the Dominion. I’m decent at building, repairing and engineering anything to do with computers and to some extent other machines, pretty much including communications, security and surveillance systems.”
“You said you’ve worked with Vizierate.”
“Yes.”
“How do you feel about the Dominion?”
“It’s not glowing. I’ve seen a system that’s meant to dedicated to convenience and order be abused to cater to egos and power struggles and I’ve seen the people that hurts.”
“Why come here?”
“To get away from the egos and the power struggles. Not that I assume there’s less of that here, but maybe fewer government-sanctioned ones.”
A wry note creeps into Vern’s voice, “There’s plenty of egos and power struggles here.”
“But it seems to me that at least everyone’s honest about it, maybe. From what I’ve heard, competition is encouraged, not under the under the table. I suppose that’s what I’m looking at.”
Vern processes that for a little while, “would you be interested in consulting with our government?”
“Sure.”
“Just like that?”
“Yes. I mean, do I, if I have a look and decide it’s not for me, do I get to say ‘no’ afterwards?”
“Of course.”
“Then sure. We can take a look.”
Vern says, “You can probably expect to be asked about what you know about your work with-
“Yes.”
“So, that’ll be up to you to decide how you want to answer that. Do you have any questions for me?”
“Do I have any questions for you? Where’s that work going to be?”
“Here at Gateway for now.”
“For now. Alright.”
“We do most of the preliminary here rather than send people all the way to Resolution and then discover it’s not a good fit.”
Oliver nods, internally his thinking is that if he can get into the government he can possibly get the Separatist government to help him find Argyle.
Vern says, “I’m just going to make a call.”
Vern taps things on his computer. Oliver sips his coffee and looks around for an extra sugar packet, or three. Vern sees him looking.
“Just go to the door and yell.”
Oliver nods, transacts with the young man outside the door. The Militia guard watches him.
Behind him, Vern is producing phone-call-making noises, “Commissioner?”
Oliver can’t hear the other side of the conversation clearly, but it sounds like a female voice.
“Commissioner, apologies for the late hour. I have someone here who you might be interested in, uh, meeting and vetting at a personal level… A former Dominion Forerunner…”
There’s a conversation where Vern and the Commissioner discuss logistics, after which Vern offers Oliver, as he sugars his coffee, a bed for the night here on the station and then they will fly him down to Gateway where he will meet the Commissioner.
“Sure. Happy to do that,” he says.
Before they wrap up, Vern asks, “Have you any other questions? Anything you want to know?”
“Am I likely to be scrutinized to see if I’m some type of Dominion spy?”
V”I would think so.”
“Alright.”
“Are you a Dominion spy?”
“No, pretending to be.”
“Pretending?”
“Oh, they think that’s why I’m here. They’re not going to hear back.”
“That’s very forthright of you.”
“Well, I had to get away somehow. I wasn’t working for the Vizierate voluntarily.”
Vern: “Ah, that’s interesting, I’m sure the Commissioner will ask you more about that.”
The interview winds up, Oliver is escorted to another part of the station, though at this point they do ask for his weapon, and he complies. They don’t pick up on his EMP grenage and it remains in his backpack.
His room is small, not particularly ostentatious, but not awful. Despite the unfamiliar surrounds, he sleeps, and without nightmares.
Electorate Space Militia
In the morning Vern and a Militia escort greet him. It seems that even though he is on a space station, apparently the security people are the Separatist Ground Milita. They walk through the station to a docking area and he sees what is apparently the shuttle’s Space Militia pilot. It seems the Ground Militia uniforms are brown with blue trim, and the Space Militia uniforms are blue with brown trim.
No-one else is on the shuttle with them. After the usual sorts for strapping in and travel preparation activities, it undocks they fly down to the planet.