06-30-2023, 07:48 PM
Taugen Airport, Geminus
Kēam Wilson stood tensely in front of the coffee machine, watching as it prepared his fourth cup of coffee that day. The break room was clean, at least, but sparse and a touch dim, in line with the general appearance of the airport. Wilson didn't particularly enjoy his job as a border security officer, but it paid fairly well, so he couldn't really complain. The coffee machine slowed down it's pouring, and he picked his cup up gingerly, mixing in sugar with a wooden spoon.
A fellow border agent entered the break room, munching from a freshly-opened bag of chips from the vending machine. "Hey Emil." Wilson put the cover on his coffee cup and took a small sip.
Emil raised an eyebrow as he leaned on the counter. "Another coffee? Ain, Kēam. Just give in and drink tea like the rest of the damn nation! All that coffee is horrid for your health anyways. You drink it with just enough sugar to be bad for you, and yet not enough to make it actually taste fine. Your coffee habits are so strange."
Kēam gave a small chuckle. "Who are you, my father? And besides, you fell asleep in the break room last month. I'll keep drinking my coffee and not get written up for being away from my post, thank you."
"Hey, that was one time! And it wasn't even my fault! The party the night before was crazy. You should've been there. There were so many s-"
At that moment, the break room door flew open, startling both of the men. Amalē Vojkova, a coworker of theirs, stood in the doorway, a mix of confusion, shock, panic, and frustration on her face.
Wilson set his coffee back down on the counter. "What's wrong, Amalē? Did another moronic brute with an expired passport try to get in your booth again?" Amalie stood still in the doorway, seemingly still processing what had just happened. Kēam walked over to her, concerned. "What's wrong? Did something happen? I thought you were assigned to the asylum unit today."
She blinked again, then a whole bunch of words came spilling out. "There are Kerlians in the asylum lobby. Major ones! Former Councillor Robinson, her two daughters, and Pierre's daughter. They're refusing to tell me why they want asylum, and yet they insist that they're in real danger if they return to Zongongia. I don't understand. I think we're watching a diplomatic incident play out before our eyes."
The two men stared at Amalē, before looking back at each other. Emil spoke up first, in a steady tone. "I'll handle your post while you call the higher ups. This'll either be nothing, or a major controversy. Either way, I guarantee it'll be taken out of our hands soon." He gestured at Kēam's coffee cup. "Although, by the end of this, we all may need a couple of those."
Kēam Wilson stood tensely in front of the coffee machine, watching as it prepared his fourth cup of coffee that day. The break room was clean, at least, but sparse and a touch dim, in line with the general appearance of the airport. Wilson didn't particularly enjoy his job as a border security officer, but it paid fairly well, so he couldn't really complain. The coffee machine slowed down it's pouring, and he picked his cup up gingerly, mixing in sugar with a wooden spoon.
A fellow border agent entered the break room, munching from a freshly-opened bag of chips from the vending machine. "Hey Emil." Wilson put the cover on his coffee cup and took a small sip.
Emil raised an eyebrow as he leaned on the counter. "Another coffee? Ain, Kēam. Just give in and drink tea like the rest of the damn nation! All that coffee is horrid for your health anyways. You drink it with just enough sugar to be bad for you, and yet not enough to make it actually taste fine. Your coffee habits are so strange."
Kēam gave a small chuckle. "Who are you, my father? And besides, you fell asleep in the break room last month. I'll keep drinking my coffee and not get written up for being away from my post, thank you."
"Hey, that was one time! And it wasn't even my fault! The party the night before was crazy. You should've been there. There were so many s-"
At that moment, the break room door flew open, startling both of the men. Amalē Vojkova, a coworker of theirs, stood in the doorway, a mix of confusion, shock, panic, and frustration on her face.
Wilson set his coffee back down on the counter. "What's wrong, Amalē? Did another moronic brute with an expired passport try to get in your booth again?" Amalie stood still in the doorway, seemingly still processing what had just happened. Kēam walked over to her, concerned. "What's wrong? Did something happen? I thought you were assigned to the asylum unit today."
She blinked again, then a whole bunch of words came spilling out. "There are Kerlians in the asylum lobby. Major ones! Former Councillor Robinson, her two daughters, and Pierre's daughter. They're refusing to tell me why they want asylum, and yet they insist that they're in real danger if they return to Zongongia. I don't understand. I think we're watching a diplomatic incident play out before our eyes."
The two men stared at Amalē, before looking back at each other. Emil spoke up first, in a steady tone. "I'll handle your post while you call the higher ups. This'll either be nothing, or a major controversy. Either way, I guarantee it'll be taken out of our hands soon." He gestured at Kēam's coffee cup. "Although, by the end of this, we all may need a couple of those."
<t></t>