ENSIGN JACKIE MASON - No Tchotchkes

[Mike Shea]

((Docking Area – Starfleet corridor – Space Station Deep Space Nine))

Jackie Mason had a fondness for Deep Space Nine. His mother had worked for Starfleet on Earth, in an administrative role, when he was growing up. She had never been to Deep Space Nine, but she had stories; stories about the people who had lived and worked on Deep Space Nine during the Dominion War. She had told him those stories growing up, and her enthusiasm, the animated way she had of ‘talking with her hands’ as his father would tease her when she would get into a zone with a story, infused in him a fondness for the people of those years who inhabited Deep Space Nine. People he would never meet, but people that seemed at least to him as a young boy to be larger than life. The Constable. The Starfleet Captain. The Bajoran. The Doctor.

As he walked the corridors and the promenade of the station, he knew he was walking in some of the same footsteps they had walked.

Deep Space Nine was active today, at least as active as Jackie had seen it. The sound of so many people coming and going, voices not speaking to him but to others, some he could understand, many he could not. The translator thankfully filtered out most of those that were far enough away that their words were not for him, so the sounds were just noise for the most part. Here and there, he’d hear a word of a phrase still not meant for him, but he could understand it, even if he wasn’t hearing the entire conversation. He didn’t pay attention to those noises. He tuned them out. Selective hearing, some called it.  He’d like to think if he overheard a snippet of suspicious chatter he wouldn’t tune it out, but facts were he couldn’t base that on anything. There was no ‘this one time, I overheard some terrorists’ situation he’d ever overheard that resulted in his swift action to stop a disaster.

As he walked along the promenade not only did the sights and sounds of all the activity envelop him, but the air itself was full of aromas and smells from people and things they carried with them. And there was an unmistakable aroma of grease, one that to Jackie promised somewhere nearby he could find a tasty burger and salty hot French fries.  

Deep Space Nine of course was not your run-of-the-mill federation designed and constructed Starfleet Space Station. Before its life began as a base for Starfleet, it had a life as a Cardassian mining and refinery station. It was built over sixty years ago by oppressed Bajoran laborers under the thumb of their Cardassian rulers.



Taybrim: Ensign Jackie Mason?

Jackie heard that. It came from over there. A Betazoid, similar age or slightly older than Jackie. Jackie stood 5’11” barefoot in the morning after a good night’s rest. The Betazoid looked a few inches shorter.  Jackie wasn’t sure about the Betazoid’s age; he had a harder time guesstimating Betazoid age than guessing a human’s age. Not that he was a whiz at theirs. But he guessed the stranger was older as his body language suggested higher rank, even if Jackie could not see the pips on the Betazoid attire.

The other officers near Jackie also stopped and looked at the Betazoid who had just called Jackie’s name.

Jackie caught the Betazoid’s eye with a head nod and was ready to stand at attention. The Betazoid waved Jackie over. Jackie complied and went over, and stood a reasonable distance from the Betazoid.

Jackie Mason: Ensign Jackie Mason, sir.

Taybrim: I usually get to say ‘welcome onboard’ but we find ourselves a whole quadrant away from our home on StarBase 118.  So instead I’ll offer welcome to the crew.

The Betazoid’s voice and body language was calming and reassuring.  Jackie assumed there was more than one side to him, but this side he was seeing was certainly welcoming.

The pips were readily visible when Jackie got closer to the Commodore. Mason: I appreciate the welcome, Commodore.

Taybrim: I know it is a bit unusual to meet here. But I wanted to take the opportunity to get to meet you – and at the same time offer you the opportunity to travel to the Narendra in a more interesting way than the standard Starfleet shuttle to Bajor.  Or if you preferred the opportunity to enjoy Deep Space Nine for a short while before the Narendra finds us.


It took Mason a small fraction of one second to make his choice. It took him another second to choose his words.

Jackie Mason: More interesting sounds like the way to go, sir.

Taybrim: I am here to facilitate an enjoyable and interesting welcome to the crew of StarBase 118 – and to that end I will let you choose.


Jackie Mason: :: Looks around at the sights surrounding them. Oo I’m here, I’ve seen it, it has impressed me, I don’t need to linger. oO:: 

Jackie: I’m ready when you are, sir…I travel light.

Taybrim:?

Jackie didn’t cart around tchotchkes. He didn’t cart around a favorite tee shirt from his alma mater or a first-edition book that meant the world to him. He carted around his memories, in his head.

Jackie Mason: Narendra. Depending on who you ask, the word once meant Ruler of Men, King of Men, Lord of Men…who knows what else?  Now it is the name of a Starfleet ship.

Taybrim:?

Jackie Mason:  So, this more interesting way of getting to Narendra…if it takes some time, do they serve food? Or could I grab something to go from one of the diners on the Promenade?

Taybrim:?

tag/tbc


~~~
Mike
Ensign Jackie Mason
Counselor
Starbase 118 OPS
O239911JM3