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There is a space station hanging in orbit around a desert planet. It's not very impressive, as space stations go- a number of domes haphazardly linked by transport tubes, placed seemingly wherever they'll fit. A vaguely spheroid tangle of architecture with no consistent direction of artificial gravity. The only feature that can be differentiated from the rest of it is its docking bay- a large platform with an old-fashioned atmosphere field stretched around it. The technology on display looks to be nearly a hundred years old, on average. It is not a place that looks to be on the cutting edge.
It is broadcasting some information about itself. Some rudimentary field specs for its atmosphere, docking instructions, a map of its facilities, language and communications information. Massively outweighing the useful data is a bulk of advertisements- hundreds of presentations in various media types exhorting visitors to drop by some shop or another. Most prominently, an ad for Auntie Matter's is listed on the facilities map- their exclusive fuel provider, it seems. Ferengi supplier, decent quality at an affordable price, probably enabled by some highly shady business practices. It'll be good enough, likely.
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penitencelost
penitencelost
He thinks for a moment.
"Uh, pod silks are food- people wear- if someone tries to sell you pod silks, it's... normally you wear them for a day and then eat them, or else they go bad, but people... don't know that... space people don't know that, and they sell them based on how they look, and then a week later we get complaints about rotten shawls... uh, there's... that's probably not what you meant, uh, I don't know, that's... all I can think of, but I don't know if I'm thinking..."
He makes a vaguely apologetic sound and gesture.
"Uh, pod silks are food- people wear- if someone tries to sell you pod silks, it's... normally you wear them for a day and then eat them, or else they go bad, but people... don't know that... space people don't know that, and they sell them based on how they look, and then a week later we get complaints about rotten shawls... uh, there's... that's probably not what you meant, uh, I don't know, that's... all I can think of, but I don't know if I'm thinking..."
He makes a vaguely apologetic sound and gesture.
warpfairy
"It's not what I had in mind, but if I'd had something in mind I'd have asked a more specific question. Thank you."
penitencelost
"I- thanks. I mean- you're welcome. Sorry. I'll..."
Ramón nervously keys in a log entry for the visitor, and moves to pull a lever by the wall.
The market dome, connected to the rest of the station by a set of tube-like corridors, seems to be a tangled journey away, despite being visible from the docking bay. Upon Ramón's pulling the lever, however, one of the corridor tubes connected to the market detaches from its previous destination- some opaque dome whose contents can't be identified.
The tube twists through space and reattaches itself to the wall of the docking bay, where a hatch opens up.
If this is how getting around works here, it's no surprise the layout is such a tangle.
Ramón nervously keys in a log entry for the visitor, and moves to pull a lever by the wall.
The market dome, connected to the rest of the station by a set of tube-like corridors, seems to be a tangled journey away, despite being visible from the docking bay. Upon Ramón's pulling the lever, however, one of the corridor tubes connected to the market detaches from its previous destination- some opaque dome whose contents can't be identified.
The tube twists through space and reattaches itself to the wall of the docking bay, where a hatch opens up.
If this is how getting around works here, it's no surprise the layout is such a tangle.
warpfairy
Isabella makes careful mental notes of the twists and turns and proceeds towards where she'll be doing her shopping.
penitencelost
Ramón follows T'Mir down the tube, until they reach the entrance of the market.
The people there look poor- the kind of poor you might see in history books, wearing rags and variously caked in dirt (of which there ought to be none on a space station.) It's an incongruous spectacle- the permanent storefronts look clean and modern, the architecture (while old-fashioned) is in good repair, and matter replicators- towering, century-old models, but working- stick out from the crowd here and there. The crowd seems to be destitute with no explanation.
Except, perhaps, sheer numbers- it's a truly massive crowd of people. The organization of the market is best described as a battle between navigability and carrying capacity. There are aisles to walk down, the widest being the circle around the edge, but it's clearly a tight squeeze.
As they approach, there are hushed whispers- they've noticed T'Mir. People at their stalls start unpacking their wares, and all eyes are on them as they step closer.
The instant one man in front calls "Welcome, traveler! Can I interest you in-", there is a cacophany of voices clamoring for attention.
The people there look poor- the kind of poor you might see in history books, wearing rags and variously caked in dirt (of which there ought to be none on a space station.) It's an incongruous spectacle- the permanent storefronts look clean and modern, the architecture (while old-fashioned) is in good repair, and matter replicators- towering, century-old models, but working- stick out from the crowd here and there. The crowd seems to be destitute with no explanation.
Except, perhaps, sheer numbers- it's a truly massive crowd of people. The organization of the market is best described as a battle between navigability and carrying capacity. There are aisles to walk down, the widest being the circle around the edge, but it's clearly a tight squeeze.
As they approach, there are hushed whispers- they've noticed T'Mir. People at their stalls start unpacking their wares, and all eyes are on them as they step closer.
The instant one man in front calls "Welcome, traveler! Can I interest you in-", there is a cacophany of voices clamoring for attention.
warpfairy
"I'm looking for groceries, and -" Isabella names the Prometheus's preferred fuel.
If she finds couples or people who are otherwise willing to share the bed - if she sleeps in her chair - if some people stack up on the cabin floor - maybe she can take more than a handful out of here.
penitencelost
This pronouncement does not appear to have any effect on the crowd. Everyone seems to be individually beckoning her- "Groceries! Try our-" "But what you really want is-" "Please! Please just buy-" "Perhaps I have-"... the crowd of sellers largely doesn't seem to be moving from their stalls, thankfully, but the clamor is significant.
Ramón turns to her. "You'll... if you want food, you can probably get it cheaper from the people here, but everyone will be shouting at you... the storefronts are more expensive, but you could find what you want without people trying to sell you things..."
Ramón turns to her. "You'll... if you want food, you can probably get it cheaper from the people here, but everyone will be shouting at you... the storefronts are more expensive, but you could find what you want without people trying to sell you things..."
warpfairy
"Is this some kind of cultural weirdness or are the people here really desperate for some reason?"
penitencelost
Ramón snorts. "They shouldn't be. They had plent- they had enough to eat back on Earth, and they have enough to eat here, but they all... you could call them desperate, but not out of need. They are afflicted with longing. Those who buy space closest to the docks are those who long the hardest..."
He shrugs.
He shrugs.
penitencelost
"Sorry- the true Earth, not the old Earth. The planet that we... uh, what's... that we 'orbit'."
warpfairy
"Interesting naming choice. Why do people want to be away from it so badly?"
penitencelost
"Afflicted by longing. Our grannies came here to escape longing for more and more material things, but longing followed us across the stars... they don't care for the commandments to stay safe from..."
He gestures at the stars, visible through the dome.
He gestures at the stars, visible through the dome.
warpfairy
"...You know, if the right Federation charitable organizations were notified an entire shuttle could probably make its way out here to take people who want to go."
penitencelost
"That's..."
Jenny said something about this, before. Something about statue violations, and Ferengi contracts, and disciplinary... space... stuff. He didn't catch a lot of it.
"I think they tried that? And it didn't work? Or maybe they didn't try because... I don't recall, exactly. Something to do with those aliens with the big ears..."
Jenny said something about this, before. Something about statue violations, and Ferengi contracts, and disciplinary... space... stuff. He didn't catch a lot of it.
"I think they tried that? And it didn't work? Or maybe they didn't try because... I don't recall, exactly. Something to do with those aliens with the big ears..."
warpfairy
"The Ferengi got in the way? Are they going to give me trouble if I try to take passengers?"
penitencelost
"Not you, no- they don't have enough of a presence here to police all the, um, traffic, individual visitors, but... they fund this place, and they have... some kind of problem with the Federation? I'm not sure."
warpfairy
"The Federation and Ferenginar are not at war, but things have never been - ideal, between them. But I'm a Federation citizen and I freelance for them, even if I'm not here under the aegis of Starfleet."
penitencelost
"I... wouldn't worry."
(This is a lie, he would worry, but that is more a function of his own general worriedness. She needn't worry.)
"Did you- were you going to pick a store, or take a chance with the market?"
(This is a lie, he would worry, but that is more a function of his own general worriedness. She needn't worry.)
"Did you- were you going to pick a store, or take a chance with the market?"
warpfairy
"I don't relish the idea of wading into... that. I'll take the quieter option."
penitencelost
There seem to be two sorts of storefronts, in about equal number.
The first are brushed-chrome and steel rooms that are clearly trying to look "futuristic" (according to some wildly outdated ideas of "futuristic"). They offer familiar-looking fare at inflated prices.
The second sort are warmly-lit wooden buildings that offer authentic planetary cuisine. The latter tend to be draped in fabric all over- every surface seems to have some decorative cloth attached. Prices appear generally reasonable, and the food smells good, but none of what's visible is recognizable.
The first are brushed-chrome and steel rooms that are clearly trying to look "futuristic" (according to some wildly outdated ideas of "futuristic"). They offer familiar-looking fare at inflated prices.
The second sort are warmly-lit wooden buildings that offer authentic planetary cuisine. The latter tend to be draped in fabric all over- every surface seems to have some decorative cloth attached. Prices appear generally reasonable, and the food smells good, but none of what's visible is recognizable.
warpfairy
"I don't suppose there's much information on how Vulcans react to the local cuisine?"
penitencelost
"Vulcans? I don't-"
What are Vulcans, again? They're the... Ramón finally notices her ears. His eyes widen and he takes a step back. He's been talking to an alien like a person?
"Oh! I- uh, I'm sorry- uh..." The question, it asked... "I don't- okay, yes, Vulcans... I don't think there's information, like that, but we've had them visit before- there were never any complaints about the food, but I don't know if that's... because it's fine, or if they all just bought... space food. I think... they regulate it, they probably wouldn't be able to sell it without warnings, if that were... a problem."
It acts like a person, it doesn't- she doesn't seem like an alien, except... his eyes are glued to her ears.
What are Vulcans, again? They're the... Ramón finally notices her ears. His eyes widen and he takes a step back. He's been talking to an alien like a person?
"Oh! I- uh, I'm sorry- uh..." The question, it asked... "I don't- okay, yes, Vulcans... I don't think there's information, like that, but we've had them visit before- there were never any complaints about the food, but I don't know if that's... because it's fine, or if they all just bought... space food. I think... they regulate it, they probably wouldn't be able to sell it without warnings, if that were... a problem."
It acts like a person, it doesn't- she doesn't seem like an alien, except... his eyes are glued to her ears.
warpfairy
She blinks at him.
"I'm half-human," she says, in case that will help. "And can usually eat human-suitable food without a problem, but would prefer to be warned."
"I'm half-human," she says, in case that will help. "And can usually eat human-suitable food without a problem, but would prefer to be warned."
penitencelost
Half- what? That's a thing? He- doesn't know what to make of that.
"That's... okay. I think... it should be fine, I can't... tell you specifically, it's never come up- but, you know, that it's never come up, that says something... I mean, if there'd been a problem, I'd have heard about it, probably."
"That's... okay. I think... it should be fine, I can't... tell you specifically, it's never come up- but, you know, that it's never come up, that says something... I mean, if there'd been a problem, I'd have heard about it, probably."