LT Zenno - Bureaucratic Bout

[Kali Nicholotti]

((Federation Refugee Services, Ring 2, DS9))

 

Zenno double checked that he was in the right place and then entered the office. It was quite spacious with a large waiting room, a row of desks, and a large computer display hanging from a bracket in the corner that looked like it was about to fail spectacularly. A Zakdorn functionary sat behind the reception desk. Zenno made his approach.

 

Zenno: Greetings.

 

The Zakdorn seemed engrossed in his PADD and said nothing.

 

Zenno: ::clears throat:: Greetings. I wish to inquire about a refugee child named Sabira and her companion Mister Quirkle-Birkle. They were displaced from Deep Space 33 after the recent invasion.

 

The Bolian waited and the Zakdorn made no move, but continued to read his PADD.

 

Zenno: Hello? 

 

With a snuff, the man at the desk reached out at patted a sign: “Take a Number.” All the while he was still reading his PADD. Zenno looked around and the office was completely empty besides him and the Zakdorn.

 

Zenno looked at the number dispenser and took a slip. He held it up.

 

Zenno: I have a number. May you help with my inquiry?

 

The Zakdorn grunted, put down his PADD with deliberate and exaggerated slowness.

 

Clerk: Now serving… Number 3 at Desk 4.

 

Zenno looked at his slip. It had a large 38 on it. He looked up at the Zakdorn, then back at the slip. So be it. He took a seat in the waiting area.

 

Clerk: Last call for Number 3. ::Beat:: Now serving Number 4 at Desk 4…

 

((Timeskip))

 

Zenno sat with his head in his hands. He would have come back later, but he was sure that this person would have used it against him in some way.

 

Clerk:: Now serving… Number 37 at Desk 4. Number 37? No number 37? Very well.

 

Zenno stood up since he was next. But it was not to be. The functionary closed a little glass slider on his desk and put up a sign: “Out to lunch”

 

Zenno slouched back into the chair and rolled his eyes.

 

((Timeskip))

 

In the interregnum, no one else had come into the office. But the clerk sat at his desk and had eaten a lunch of some raw fish, avocados, and what looked like unsalted Karugu nuts.

 

Clerk: Now serving.. let’s see here. Where did I stop? ::hums:: 37? Now serving 37? No no, that wasn’t it. Now serving Number 38 at Desk 4.

 

Glad to be getting somewhere, Zenno went to the desk.

 

Zenno: Greetings. I wish to inquire about a refugee child named Sabira and her companion Mister Quirkle-Birkle. They were displaced from Deep Space 33 after the recent invasion.

 

The clerk sighed and looked at his computer console. 

 

Clerk: Are you the next of kin?

 

Zenno: No, she doesn’t have next of kin as far as I know. At least, none that were on the station. There might be others elsewhere.

 

The Zakdorn hit the power button on his screen and picked up his PADD.

 

Clerk: Information can only be given to next of kin. Privacy issues. Please take our survey ::points to survey PADD:: to help us improve. Thanks for visiting Federation Refugee Services. Have a nice starday.

 

Zenno wondered if there were any words he could use to convince this clerk to help him. Deciding that there were none he briefly considered some other options, but they were all just a mental exercise to relieve the tension that this clerk had created in Zenno’s head.

 

Deciding he had to use some other avenues, he left and headed back to his quarters.

 

END/NT

 

LT Zenno

Security Chief

USS Khitomer

A240006Z13