A failure to communicate

Shannon pressed the button on the panel and waited.

The screen lit up with the message "Speak up".

"Hi, I - I have a problem. The machine sealed my clothes and won't open again." she said in as calm a voice as she could muster. She hoped to forget about her little temper tantrum a few minutes ago.

Three little dots were spinning on the screen. Waiting. Shannon waited patiently for about a minute and nothing happened.

"Hello?" she spoke into the mic again, "Is anyone there?"

The screen lit up with the message "Speak up" again.

"I - I have been. I just told you my problem." Her patience was fading away quickly.

The screen lit up with the message "Describe your problem".

"I put my clothes in the slot for decontamination, and after it was complete, the machine locked my clothes away."

The screen lit up with the message "Describe your problem" and then the word "clearly" appeared at the end.

It was unbelievable. She spoke three different alien languages perfectly, yet she was chastised for not speaking clearly enough in common. On a Federation planet, nonetheless.

"Clearly?" she laughed at the absurdity. "I spoke clearly before." She leaned closer to the mic and yelled in it, "GIVE ME BACK MY CLOTHES!!!"

The screen immediately lit up with the message "No need to scream" and then "Leave that for the decontamination machine"

Shannon blushed from head to toe. Her anger was immediately replaced with embarrassement. Whoever was messaging her, heard her scream before. How was that even possible? Were the walls that thin?

"Give. Me. Back. My. Clothes." she spoke into the mic, as "clearly" as she could.

She noticed the message on the screen "Translation in progress". Translation? What the hell was it translating? She spoke perfect common. And spaceports inside the Galactic Federation were required to provide services in common, even if the planet had a language of its own. And whoever she was talking to seemed to be replying in common. How could they write messages if they didn't speak common? What kind of moron employees did Urma 7 spaceport have? Or was her pronounciation really that bad?

"Tracing dialect"

"Oh, for the love of..." she exclaimed. "Listen! I am police. I am chasing a criminal." she was anxiously bouncing before the mic.

"Police?" came the next message.

"Yes!" What had this galaxy turned into that she needed to assert her authority to get her own clothes back.

After a little waiting the screen lit up again, "Police has been alerted" and then "They will arrive shortly to your location"

"No!" she panicked, "Call them back!" She shuddered at the thought of someone finding her like this. "I AM the police!"

"You are police?"

"Yes!" Finally, she thought. That should speed things up.

"Show badge" came the next message.

Shannon set off determinedly towards the bench that had her badge and gun. At least she was making some progress. That should get things moving. She took two steps, then stopped dead in her tracks.

Show?

Did they just say show?