SIM:Sinda: Under The Table
Lt Sinda Essen - Under The Table
(( SB118 - Mundoks Bar ))
:: The buzz surrounding the Drake hadn't died down much since the ship had docked. Essen didn't really know why - the return of a Starfleet vessel was hardly big news. The reports mostly seemed to be rumour and speculation, with a distinct lack of hard facts. Time travel was a recurring theme, though, which would also go some way to explain the small Federation ship which had docked several hours ago on one of the upper ports with a certain amount of subtle secrecy. With the amount of attention Starfleet uniforms were getting, Ess decided to dress down for the evening. The pub, when she found it, was dark and quiet and smelled of hops and old varnish. She wasn't at all surprised that Weston liked the place. Ess paused briefly at the bar and glanced around, spotting a pair of relaxed feet sticking out from one of the booths near the back of the room. Sure enough they belonged to her fellow officer. ::
WESTON: It's great to see you Ess. How are you?
SINDA: Fair to middling. You?
WESTON: I'm doing alright. ::He held up his left hand.:: Getting this fixed up tomorrow.
SINDA: That looks... nasty. ::she looked pointedly at his glass:: Are you sure you should be drinking before surgery?
WESTON: ::He looked down at the half finished whisky and smiled.:: No I guess I shouldn't be now that you mention it. Meh ::He signalled the waitress for another and to take Ess' order.::
SINDA: Kanar
WESTON: On me please.
::As the Orion departed Oliver turned back to his friend.::
WESTON: Now I take it from your call that this wasn't just about catching up.
SINDA: What makes you say that? Why can't a friend congratulate you on getting as many pips as you have Purple Stars?
WESTON: You have me there, and I thank you...but your tone suggested otherwise.
SINDA: Ok, but first I have a question for you. Who's getting investigated by the Department of Temporal Investigations?
WESTON: ::Oliver scoffed and took a sip of his drink.:: Everyone? I suppose the Captain mostly but we'd be fools to think we all aren't being investigated individually.
SINDA: Ha! I knew it. A ship docked about half an hour behind the Drake, under the radar so to speak. I couldn't find out anything about it other than it had arrived. Figured it would have something to do with you lot. Sounds like those reporters had their story right after all.
WESTON: Well hopefully we can make that story a little bit different then the first draft. David is meeting me here later to talk about it.
SINDA: Should be an interesting conversation.
::The waitress returned with their drinks. A short round glass of amber whisky and a tall flute of black kanar. The pair paused in their conversation as the waitress took the empty glass away.::
WESTON: So what did you get up to while we were gallivanting through space time?
SINDA: I went to Cardassia Prime.
WESTON: Oh. I'm sorry that I wasn't able to go with you Ess. Really.
SINDA: Well you were half-way across the galaxy, I needed something to pass the time. Did you think I was going to sit on my hands and twiddle my thumbs while I waited? I called in a favour. ::she made a face:: About the only one I was owed in fact. A Ferengi named Joro put me in touch with someone who used to work for Central Command.
WESTON: ::Oliver wondered how someone might sit on their hands and twiddle their thumbs, but let it go without voicing his smarm.:: How'd that play out?
SINDA: It wasn't a complete waste of time. Not quite. The contact wouldn't give me any definite information, other than saying he knew who my father's commanding officer had been and that he had files regarding their deployment on Bajor. Postings, personnel, that sort of stuff. He wouldn't give any names without a shuttle-load of latinum. ::she sipped her drink:: He got a bit prissy when I offered to break his knees as a counter-proposal.
WESTON: The nerve!
SINDA: Yeah, we agreed to disagree. Suffice to say I left empty handed and he kept his knees. I trusted him about as much as a Klingon trusts a Tribble. As for Joro, I trust that weasel even less, but he has a certain amount of professionalism. I'm sure he wouldn't have put me in touch with this Cardassian if there wasn't something there worth following up.
WESTON: So who was he? I can do a background check.
SINDA: He declined to give his own name. Fortunately he didn't have to.
:: Ess slid a datapad out of her jacket and passed it across the table. ::
SINDA: Urdo Threlle, former logistician for Cardassian Central Command.
WESTON: Very nice. ::Oliver took the PADD and quickly scanned through some of the surface data.::
SINDA: I thought it might be of some use to you.
WESTON: ::Oliver glanced up.:: I'll make some use of it, to be sure.
SINDA: If we ever need to return to Cardassia Prime let me know in advance. I've never been to a more miserable planet in my life.