"No, I'm just using my magic for translation and it doesn't do text. . . . I hope that isn't illegal, I can't turn it off."

The clerk has to process that for a moment, weighing "Mages are strange sometimes" against "psychiatric admission". Finally, she turns to where a pad of paper is stuck to the wall of her desk area, and grabs the pen floating at the end of a chain. She writes a glyph that looks like a right angle "L" on it, then rips the sheet off the pad. She hands it to Samora. "Can you see this letter on that sign?" She points back at the sign that apparently says, "No Loitering"?

"Yes, it's the first one after the little gap."  What a ridiculous situation she's putting this poor clerk in.

"OK, then," the clerk says. "Go through the door through the hub behind me to the next set of elevators, look for the red spoke set, and when you get in, you want the level labeled with that."

"Alright, thank you. Sorry for bothering you. If my friends come looking for me please tell them where I went." Off she scoots as directed.

Once to the next set of elevators down the hub, it takes a moment to find the red elevator bank and catch a handrail near it as it loops over her head and to her left with the spin of the building carousel's rotation, about a quarter rotation per round. She can't help but notice that this elevator lobby has a couple sculpted features which would make good cover for archers or the like against anyone coming down the narrower hub hallway from the hospital, and unlike the hospital and Diego's ring where she started, several banks of elevators here don't have ladders paralleling them openly, instead securing them behind doors.

Huh. Apparently the "protectorate liaison office" is the sort of place someone might want to attack. But the elevator is biddable in a similar way to the previous one and there is a button with the L symbol in it. Poke. 

The lift starts moving down. After a few seconds, her feet start dropping to the deck and then firmly taking hold. After a moment, the door opens into a chime into a small lobby, with a few chairs and couches. A clerk sits at a desk, while an armored (and helmeted) figure radiating "soldier" stands wary attention in a corner. Hanging on the wall is a black flag with a red circle, and a crowned white triangle, surrounded by stars. The clerk looks up expectantly as Samora approaches. "Good evening," they say, then shrugs. "Or good morning, I suppose. What can we do for you?"

"I have magic that isn't the kind commonly known around here and I'm not sure of the legal situation around it, and the last person I said that to told me to go to the Protectorate Liaison Office."

The clerk is suddenly even more alert and businesslike. "What's you name, Mage? Different how?" Their eyes flick to her throat but don't seem to find what they're looking for.

Her throat has: a medallion with a sunburst-and-sword symbol on a sturdy chain.

"My name is Samora. I don't know enough about the local magic to draw the best comparisons, but I get magic from my goddess in the form of a number of spell slots I can prepare spells for off a large list every morning. I also have area-of-effect healing and the ability to convert prepared spells into additional healing. And some very convenient other miscellany. If you'd like to see a demonstration, the easiest option is probably conjuring water, because I can do that as many times as I want. Do you have a container handy?"

"How big a bucket do you need?" the clerk says.

"Oh, whatever size is convenient and will make a convincing demonstration. I can do any amount up to twenty gallons at once, but I can't quickly get rid of it afterwards."

"Corporal?" the clerk says. The armored Marine nods, but Samora doesn't here the com call inside his helmet. The clerk continues, "That's impossible to the best of my knowledge, so I'd be very interested to see it. Where're you from?"

"The nation of Lastwall on the planet Golarion. I don't think it's in touch with this set of planets by any reliable means; the last thing I remember before waking up here was setting off a magic trap."

"Golarian. Fascinating, I've never heard of it," the clerk says. "You asked about the legal situation for Magic here, Mage Samora. The answer is that it is...complicated. The Flytrap government is heavily insular, they don't just disallow magic and refuse to let Mages visit the planet outside of the bare minimum under the Compact and Charter, they don't allow almost any outsiders. The other side of that, though, is that they haven't even policed these outer parts of their own star system in decades, and so law here on Junkertown is...situational. There's enough locals or other anti-Mage prejudice on station that flagrant use of magic draws attention, both positive and negative. On the other hand, there's no de jure station authority with laws against it. The position of His Majesty's government is that, in the absence of specific local laws, we don't recognize or enforce any legal restrictions on either non-violent or self-defense uses of magic in line with the Compact. Which is a long way of saying it's not illegal in this office, and arguably not on this station at all, but I wouldn't recommend trying it too hard unless you really want to make a point of people seeing you do it or you don't have another choice."

The door behind the clerk opens, and a second armored marine walks in, holding an incongruously yellow wheeled bucket with a large warning logo showing a human figure slipping off their feet.

"Thank you, Private," The clerk acknowledges. They stand up from the desk and roll the bucket to a stop a few feet between them and Samora while the second marine takes up a position next to the door. "If you don't mind that demonstration, Mage Samora, can you please fill this?"

"Thank you for the explanation." Sounds like she's in the clear to use magic from the perspective of her own Law, and it's not like she's planning to stay here long.

"Create Water." There is now water in the bucket, appearing on the bottom and rapidly rising to fill it to a level where it can still be pushed without slopping out. It's very normal-looking water.

The clerk looks down as the mop bucket fills and begins grinning broadly. After it stops, they kneel down and gently poke and stir the water in the bucket with a finger in delight. "Impossible. Absolutely impossible." They stand up, shaking their hand dry. "I think I have more questions than I can think of off-hand, Mage Samora, but I suppose I come back to the question I asked at the start: what can I do for you this morning? Mage-Liaison Montoya will almost certainly be interested in having some time to talk to you today once he's awake. Do you need someplace to sleep or wash? Coffee or a meal?" They gesture at Samora's glowing shield. "Is that also your magic?"

"I need someplace to wait for dawn, mostly. I got separated from my party, and--I mentioned choosing spells every morning? I don't have the ones I need to locate them and get back home today. The shield is Golarion magic but I didn't enchant it."

"Well, we have plenty of room in the visiting quarters," the clerk says. "How does dawn work for you in orbit? It's currently oh-three-forty-seven Olympus Mons time* and station time works off that, but if you need 'dawn' I'm not really sure how that would work, I'd need to even see when Junkertown is in Junkrat's shadow."

*Olympus Mons time works from local time on Olympus Mons' 24-hour rotation. Yes, you read that correctly. The first Mage-King thought it was untidy to have to do conversions or something and fixed it. Scary amounts of OCD and power.

"I'm not sure how dawn works for me here, I've never been--not on a planet--before. It's got to work somehow, priests have gone to the crown of the world where it's dark for months at a stretch and they still gets spells every day, and I can feel when it happens, so I guess I'll find out when I find out."

"Hmmm," the clerk says. "Seems an untidy way to run a universe, but they didn't make me a god, nor did the Mage-King ask my personal opinion recently. Umm...if you'd like to wait until I can get you on Mage-Liaison Montoya's schedule in the morning, we can find something you can do some reading on, or watch the feeds, or I'd be happy to answer any questions myself if you're willing to answer some of mine?"

"I can't read this language--I'm using magic to speak it--but I'd love to trade questions with you! Can I start with 'what sort of things can the Mages here do'?"

"I'd say 'the usual stuff' but that's probably not helpful without an idea of pre-Martian and modern Protectorate fiction. Um...telekinetic force and shields, energy transfer like fireballs and lightning, gravity manipulation though that's kind of under force it's just specially useful. Creating antimatter from matter, of course. Runic matrices for making some of those more sustainable, making them more efficient in use of a Mage's energy before they need to rest or storing an effect for later, or amplifying their effects like the Jump spell for ships or the Runic Transceiver Arrays for faster-than-light communications. Certain chemical and industrial processes, and some limited biochemical applications, though those are very tricky." They shrug, "Not like turning water into wine or people into newts from religion or myth."

"Huh. We can do some of that stuff, though not much with gravity and I don't know what antimatter is or what faster than light means. Biochemical is--to do with living things? We have a lot of magic that affects living things. The healing mostly, but also turning water into wine and people into newts--I couldn't turn someone into a newt even if I wanted to for some reason, but wizards can."