"Deep Space Nine, this is Andorian scout ship Lithar seeking docking permissions. Would you be so kind as to advise on protocols?"
"Lithar, this is DS9," responded the Ops officer, an amiable lilt in their voice. "Transmit your ship's identification and current status for clearance, please." The comm line fell silent for a beat, save for the subtle hum of distant engine noise.
"Acknowledged, DS9. Apologies, we seem to have a minor hiccup with our identification codes," came the reply, a hint of consternation coloring the voice from the Lithar.
The Ops officer, about to answer, halted as scan results unfurled on their console. "Lithar, DS9 again. Routine scans show extensive degradation to your ship's structure and power systems. Care to comment on that? We need a clear safety assessment before we grant docking clearance."
"Ah," the voice from the Lithar sounded sheepish. "We may have followed a subspace distortion a bit too closely. Ended up skirting the Badlands and ran into a bit of a plasma storm. Played havoc with our navigation and sensors, not to mention the hull."
"Understood, Lithar." The Ops officer frowned, their gaze dancing across the docking manifest. They found a couple of suitable options–far enough from the high traffic loading bay corridors, but not so far as to irk O'Brien with the maintenance commute. "We'll grant you provisional docking clearance. Follow the designated approach vector and stay within docking protocols. We'll assess your situation once you've docked."
"Much appreciated, DS9. Might I also inquire about medical services on the station?"
"Rest assured, Lithar, we have fully equipped facilities. We'll have medical personnel ready upon your arrival to handle any injuries."
A sigh of relief filtered through the comm line. "That's a relief to hear, DS9. Lithar out."
The Ops officer spun to report the unusual arrival to Worf, but the Klingon was already there, peering at their console.
"Worf to O'Brien," he intoned, tapping his combadge.
"Go ahead, Commander," came the quick response.
"We've got an Andorian scout ship limping into Docking Bay 4. She's had a rough time in the Badlands; plasma storm damage. Get a full crew to assess and repair."
"Got it, Commander. I'll get a crew assembled."
"And O'Brien," Worf added, his tone serious.
"Yes, Commander?"
"Keep an eye out. The Lithar had issues with their identification and clearance codes. It may just be the storm damage, but... stay vigilant."
"Will do, Commander. I'll keep you in the loop."
Worf gave a curt nod to the Ops officer before moving towards the turbolift. As the doors slid open, he tapped his combadge again, "Worf to Doctor Bashir..."