241912=Accumulation of Citizenship

Posted on 26 Dec 2019 @ 7:34pm by Lieutenant Talrian Bran & Petty Officer 2nd Class Hunter Kawolski

3,044 words; about a 15 minute read

Mission: Tyr's Hand
Location: Union Station

Talrian stepped off the ramp and onto the deck of the shuttle bay. The three others of his team were already gathered around the shuttle craft, staring out at the bustling 'port'. It seemed that aircraft were constantly coming and going, each either leaving or entering smaller shuttle bays which allowed for the steady stream of traffic in and out as each had it's own airlock system.

"Settle," Talrian muttered to Johnson as they noticed several uniformed men headed toward them. Johnson merely nodded, his hand still resting comfortably on the grip of his weapon holstered at his thigh. The security chief didn't need to be a telepath to sense the unease of his men. In a way this was a completely alien, and very possibly hostile, environment for the four of them.

As much as Talrian doubted they were allowed to come here only to be harmed, killed or taken prisoner. Thus far he has not met anyone from this so called "Union" but it made very little logical sense to allow the captain of an unknown vessel choose which emmissaries they'll let over first. If the captain felt as if there were actual danger, the tactical response would be to send over non-essential personnel. The ones that couldn't be held for ransom because they had no value to the ship.

Still...uniformed and armed with rifles. Talrian noticed others in similar dress and armament wandering about the various shuttle bays, leading him to believe this wasn't a too unusual occurrence. Though, he was sure the officer leading them didn't get to meet temporal aliens too often.

"What should we do?" Kawolski asked, standing behind Talrian and Johnson.

"Stand easy," Talrian said, only briefly glancing behind him. "I'm sure this is our 'guide'."

"Guide?" Kawolski asked, the nervousness evident in his voice.

Talrian shrugged, "Someone's going to give us a rundown of the rules, gain as much information about us as they can without seeming too 'obtrusive'. Not much different from what we'd do." Which reminded him of the 'observer' that was supposed to be quartered on their ship. He wanted to know more about this person before too much time passed. Captain Thorne has stated she intended to cooperate with the Terran Union for now - in things that kept them from becoming enemies of the Federation equivalent of this timeline.

"Lieutenant Talrian Bran?" the officer asked, bringing his squad to a halt before taking a step forward so that he was protected but also giving the information that they are clearly in charge and more important than the others.

"That is me," Talrian answered before indicating the others. "These are my men, security officers from my ship. Petty Officers Johnson, Stavros and Kawolski," he inidicated each of them as he spoke their names. He kept his gaze forward but saw Kawolski's confusion. The kid didn't yet understand the full nature of his position, which was okay. His training as a corpsman was not immediate knowledge Bran wanted his adversaries to have at the moment.

"Thank you, I'm Captain Muldave of the Terran Union. My orders are to provide you with whatever information you require as well as act as your liason while you are on the station for this fact finding tour." He said the last three words with the effortless knowledge that they were here to discover as much as they could as fast as they could.

No reaction to the information that they were all security, Talrian noted as he eyed the Union 'welcoming committe'. He approved of their bearing and discipline. While the others appeared not to notice them, he noted the small shifting of the eyes that said they were very much aware of every move Talrian and his group made. "I understand we are granted limited access to your databases? Are historical archives included in that access?"

Muldave indicated they were free to move about. "I see no reason why you should not be able to access what any other member of the Union public could access. Anything else, you can submit a request and it'll be considered." The Union troops fell in line, two in the front of them, the rest in the rear. Talrian glanced over his shoulder. Johnson took Kawolski next to him, silently guiding him along while Stavros took up the rear of their diamond formation, Talrian with Muldave.

"Thank you," Talrian said. "I find I would be remiss in taking the opportunity to find the differences in our histories, where we diverged."

"Yes," Muldave answered, "you are a historian by training?"

"Marine," Talrian answered back, immediately and a little too neutral to be natural. "But I had to study something to obtain officer status and, well, those who don't learn from history..."

"Are doomed to repeat it, yes," Muldave said. He glanced at Talrian. "You had need to study to become an officer?"

"Yes," Talrian said. "We have to obtain at least a bachelor's degree for consideration. I've since gone on and obtained a master's in history. You?"

"Some of us do," Muldave said, "mainly those who attend the various academies and come out as officers. Others, who may be promoted through the ranks are considered to have learned enough to lead troops."

Talrian nodded, making a note of the difference. "Do I understand, then, you still have different services?"

"Yes," Muldave answered, "Navy, Army and Defense Force. We folded the Marines into the Navy two centuries ago and melded both the Air Force and Space Force into the Defense Force about the same time. Made more sense considering that there really wasn't much difference between the two anyway."

"Interesting," Talrian said as they were coming to the end of the docking bays.

"You'll be required to submit to inspection and registration before you're allowed on the station proper," Muldave said. "This is standard practice for any non-Union citizen that comes aboard."

"Understandable," Talrian said, facing Muldave as they waited in the line. "Our weapons and gear?"

Muldave looking nervous for the first time since meeting them. "That is a sticky matter," he finally answered after several long moments of silence. "There are those in the station's administration that wants you unarmed. Others feel the best way to figure out your intentions toward the Union are to see how you handle yourselves if given basic citizenship rights."

"I see," Talrian asked as they moved forward. For most, who appeared to have already been registered, merely had to submit to a scanning device that verified their identity. It seemed once 'registered' moving onto the station was a mere formality. Not much different from Starfleet practices. He was sure that background and criminal checks were being performed at the same time. "And the final answer?" he asked, wondering regarding his response if it was said they would have to give up their armaments.

Muldave sighed. "If you are to be considered as members of the Union, then you must be treated as members," he said. "The Constitution gives citizens the right to keep arms and policies and regulations govern the carrying of them about the station. You state your group is security, which is equivalent, as I understand it, to our law enforcement or military. Therefore we are extending you the same courtesy."

"Because you want to see if we can be trusted," Talrian said, making it sound like a question when both knew it wasn't.

"At some point that trust must be earned, which can't be done if we don't give you the opportunity to betray that trust." Muldave looking ahead, at the few people left before they arrived at the processing station. TTalrian merely nodded, not sure if the captain were repeating a line he was told or if that was something he actually believed.

"Then I presume we will not be 'escorted' for our entire trip to the station?" Talrian asked.

"Escorted?" Muldave asked, giving a little chuckle at the euphemism. "No, but I am to be your guide, as well as a few of my men. That should not be taken as a symbol of mistrust, but merely our desire to quickly answer any questions or navigate around any thorny differences between us."

Talrian waved that Johnson and Kawolski should proceed as they came to the front of the line. The four of them were moved to a side station, where Talrian noticed a few others were directed prior to their arrival. It seemed to be the 'registering' station. Talrian noted, watching as his two security personnel were walked through the process that the 'registration' part included a small blood draw to register their genetic identity.

Talrian continued to study as much as he could. One thing he noticed was that the station was much more military than a Starfleet station. From what little he was able to glean before coming to the station, he suspected this was the development of the alliance between Earth and the Andorians. After World War Three, those who survived were attempting to prevent the issues that led to that final global conflict. The Terran's coming into contact and then falling under the guidance of the Vulcans helped transform Earth from tribalism and individual nation-states to a unified global people would not have happened here. But, first contact with the Andorians...

...there were many things that he was sure he'd find different. It didn't take long for him to find out.

"Your hand is cold, are you ill?" the processing agent said as he worked to take the small blood sample from the tip of Talrian's finger.

"No, I just naturally have-"

"Step over here," the agent said, indicating a little used counter. "You'll need to be medically cleared before you're allowed on the station."

Talrian gave Kawolski a brief shake of the head. If he understood that he was not to interfere because of Talrian indicating it or the quick whispering Johnson did was not immediately apparent. But either way, he maintained his position, drawing only a few glances from their 'escort'.

"I'm sure that won't be-" Muldave started

"Sorry, Captain," the processing agent said, and now Talrian noticed variations in the uniform, especially the symbology displayed, that indicated there might be differing services working here. "Standard procedure. Especially for aliens."

"Aliens?" Muldave asked.

"Yes," Talrian said, with a quick smile. "I thought you could tell?" He indicated the spots running down his temples and neck. "I'm Trill."

"Trill?" The processing agent said, tapping into his computer. "We have...limited information."

"The Trill are not part of the Union?" Talrian asked, casting his voice into amazement. In truth he was not surprised. In their early dealings with even the Federation, the Trill kept much of their society and information quiet. Especially that about the symbiotes. Eventually they opened up about the symbionts as they came to be respected and trusted members of the Federation. He could understand Trillex's reluctance, then, to share all with a more...military...organization such as the Union.

"Enough that you can give me a clean bill of health?" Talrian asked as he moved to the secondary counter and the bored looking duo there.

"As long as you don't carry any known communicable diseased," the senior of the medical officers said. He indicated Talrian should remove his tunic and undershirt as he brought up an obscuring field. "Shouldn't take much more than ten or fifteen minutes."

Talrian did as instructed and sat where he was told after he explained that custom indicated that an observer was required, due to his rank. The medics looked doubtful but shrugged since it didn't matter much. Talrian indicated, seemingly a random, for Kawolski to join them. It would be their first opportunity to observe the level of medical advancement of the Union. Kawolski seemed to understand he should remain quiet and only observe, no matter how curious he may be regarding their procedures and equipment.

Talrian explained the spots, the markings of his Trill heritage, continued from the outside of his arms, the edges of his torso, and down the outer part of his legs to his feet. No, he wasn't sure why they were developed into his species, just they'd always been there as far as Trills knew - except for the subspecies marked without the spots and the protuberances on their forehead.

"Childhood surgery," he said, as they asked about the 'strange scar' on his abdomen, the outward fold of the pouch that held the Bran symbiont. He wondered if they had as sophisticated scanning technology that Starfleet possessed. If the Union were thus far ignorant of the symbiotic relationships among Trills, Talrian was not about to be the one to break that silence. He didn't offer further details, nor were any asked.

The main thrust of the exam seemed to be the drawn blood - strangely using a needle inserted into a vein through the skin of his arm. It was put in a backroom where another medic would be responsible for running the various tests to determine if he was infectious or not. Other tests were taken - temperature, reflex, a manual look inside his head orifices. By the time they seemed finished, he was also determined not to carry any known infections and was cleared to proceed.

"Your credit chip," the processing agent said, setting the small gold circuitry against the outside of his left hand. "It contains your ident registration as well as allow you to access your credit accounts."

"Credit accounts?" Talrian asked as they moved passed the registration area and toward the main parts of the station. While they waited to clear him, Muldave and two of his personnel remained. One was a second lieutenant and the other a sergeant.

"Yes," Muldave said, "The Union is covering most of the normal expenses for your visit and has arranged for a stipend for each of you for incidentals."

Talrian looked at the back of his hand where the chip was mostly invisible but now that he knew about it, he saw the same on Muldave and the Union soldiers. It fascinated him in a way that he'd not been in a while. "Capitalism?" he asked, looking around at the merchant area where they found themselves.

"Yes," Muldave said, quizzical, "What other way is there?"

socialism, communism, free market, Talrian thought to himself, but made sure to keep to himself. "We...have a different system," he said, recalling the historical animosty on Earth between capitalism and socialism. The Federation was mostly socialist, where the advent of transporter technology led to the replicators and that freed up a lot of the main drive toward accumulation of wealth. Provided housing, freely available food and advanced medical care allowed for many 'needs' of society to be easily met, leaving Federation citizens free to concentrate on other pursuits. No longer did people have to toil at 'jobs' in order to provide basic sustenances of life. Those with more 'wealth' weren't better than those without, and in many cases wealth was secondary.

Talrian's parents, for instance, would be considered 'wealthy' by a capitalist society, but that was inherited. His parents did nothing to earn that wealth but be born into it...that Trill society, much like the rest of the Federation, didn't require the spending of credits for everything meant that the 'wealth' remained static. At some point, with the passing of his parents, he and his brother would split what their great, great grandparents had created and, for the most part, allow it to remain static as neither he nor his brother had great need to spend it.

But here he was, in a society that retained the drive to accumulate wealth in order to exchange credits for goods and services. Which raised so many questions - did they still barter for like goods and/or services, or was it straight credit exchange? What was the rate one earned credits?

"You are paid to serve in the military?" Talrian asked, unaware of the intrinsic rudeness of the question. The concept of serving for pay was...mind boggling. Sure, Talrian and all others in Federation services such as Starfleet received a stipend to help cover expenses that were above and beyond basic needs of shelter, food, clothing, pursuit of knowledge. But, nobody joined Starfleet in order to obtain payment for their service!

"I am paid to serve, yes," Muldave said, his voice chilled. "But that is not the reason I joined."

"I've offended," Talrian said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insult your motives. I just...we're not used to the idea of the need for credits." He indicated the others, who also looked confused at the idea. Honestly, considering that of all ofthem, only Johnson was from Earth - the other two from colonies established away from main Terran society for various reasons - mostly religious - may not even understand the concept of 'capitalism'. "We provide freely to all in need, well, all in the Federation at least," Talrian said, trying to explain away his basic rudeness. "We use credits mostly for, well, fun. Not for everyday needs."

"That sounds..." Muldave said, shaking his head. Talrian could tell he was interested to learn more but found the concept as strange as Talrian found their adherence to capitalism. "Come along, let's introduce you to the market system then. Then, afterward, we can see about covering my ground by sending teams to various places? I'll be happy to escort you, Lieutenant, to the Historical Archives. We have a great museum on the station, if I do say so myself."

"Yes," Talrian said, glancing at his personnel. They were to start taking notes and observations, having been assigned various areas where each needed to concentrate. But commerce...Talrian never even considered the need to observe and note that idea. He guessed it was so far out of the normal for anyone from the Federation that he didn't think of it. It was as if the Terran Union were allied with Ferenginar.

And, he wondered, what that meant for the operation of the Terran Union, especially when it came to need for resources held by non-members. Suddenly, the heavier militarized presence on the station made a lot more sense.

 

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