SIM:JP: LtCdr Sinda Essen & LtJG Solaris McLaren: New Experiences

(( Starbase 11 - Ferengi Crab Shack ))

*snip*

Sinda: Too many let-downs in the past.

McLaren: Hmmm?

Sinda: Sorry, the reason I don't make plans. Too many things go wrong, too many disappointments. But if you don't plan... ::she shrugged again.::

McLaren: :: Sol nodded. :: They cant go wrong if they dont exist... but what about on missions?

Sinda: Out there in space, on a mission it's different. That's the job, it's what I do. But it's not who I am.

McLaren: It isnt? But when who are you?

Sinda: That's the question, isn't it? ::she leaned back in her chair and looked at the white-haired Terran:: Outside of Starfleet I haven't got a clue who I am. I mean, when you look at me, what do you see?

McLaren: :: Sol sipped her drink again :: Superficially, I see a pretty half-Bajoran, half-Cardassian woman. Though given the gravity of the question... I'm going to assume you didnt mean it like that.

Sinda: I didn't mean it as a heavy question, but yeah, aside from the physical stuff. ::she gave a wry smile:: Although bonus points for calling me 'pretty'.

McLaren: I didnt think so... :: she paused again, considering Sinda. :: I see a person who's driven. Whether that be by duty, or something more, I dont know. If were were to ask me to guess, I'd say something more, but that would only be a guess. I see a person who keeps herself closely guarded...

:: Sol paused and Essen sighed. All this time she thought she'd managed to change her attitude. ::

Sinda: Is it that obvious?

McLaren: You say you dont like to make plans because they can go wrong, and end in disappointment. But I dont think thats the whole story...

Sinda: No? So what do you think?

McLaren: I'd say that its because they end in pain. Maybe not physical pain, but pain.

:: Ess stared at Sol for a moment in astonishment as the other woman calmly sipped her drink. Finally, Ess shook her head and chuckled. ::

Sinda: Now I see why you're Chief of Intelligence. You got all that from, what, one mission and a game of darts? I don't think anyone has summed me up so accurately before. You ever consider counselling?

McLaren: :: She chuckled. :: Oh that has nothing to do with being Chief of Intelligence… and everything to do with working in a pub for a couple years. :: she paused :: No, I dont think I’d do very well as a counselor… I’m rubbish at giving advice.

Sinda: Probably for the best. But apparently I'm not all that guarded after all if you can see through me that easily. Guess I'll have to try harder in future.

McLaren: :: She grinned :: People just have to know where to look is all.

Sinda: Seeing as you know all about me, how about you? Let's see...

:: Essen folded her arms and studied the Terran opposite her. ::

Sinda: You're ambitious, you want to do well in Starfleet. But you're hesitant, especially around the senior officers, maybe not sure of your place just yet. I reckon that will change now you're a department head, too. You're always observing, that much is obvious! As for making plans? I've no idea, maybe you've not been on the Conny long enough yet to have had the chance?

McLaren: :: Sol nodded. :: Not bad… not bad at all. :: She shrugged. :: I probably am a bit hesitant… Im still pretty new… to all this :: she gestured around ::

Sinda: What? Sitting in Ferengi restaurants on alien planets with pretty hybrids? ::she shrugged and smiled:: You’ll get used to it.

McLaren: As for plans… I dunno. Sometimes I make them… sometimes things just happen…

Sinda: Can’t argue with that. Things that ‘just happen’ are sometimes the best ones.

:: Their conversation was interrupted as the waitress returned with their meals, placing the hot food in front of them. Ess leaned forward and breathed in the aroma. ::

Sinda: I have to admit it smells, and looks, a lot better than I was expecting. I was worried I was going to just end up with a big slug crawling round my plate. But this actually looks like a seriously good steak.

:: Sol poked hers with her fork, almost as if she was testing it. She had to admit, it didnt smell horrible, but smell was only half the battle. ::

McLaren: I mean… I doesnt look nearly as bad as I was expecting… :: she sawed a piece off with the fork and popped it into her mouth. Her face was a mixture of interest and disgust all rolled into one. ::

Sinda: Any good?

McLaren: Well… its not the worst thing Ive had… yours?

:: Ess sliced off a chunk and chewed it, nodding slowly. ::

Sinda: It looks like steak, it smells like steak, it even cuts like steak. Shame it tastes like slug.

McLaren: That is unfortunate… :: she took another piece of her tubeworm. :: Well… we can say we’ve had Ferengi food. :: she took a drink :: Not that thats saying much…

:: Ess poked the food around her plate for a bit. ::

Sinda: Not quite as successful as I’d hoped.

McLaren: :: she laughed. :: It could have been worse...

Sinda: Still, here’s to new experiences.

:: She held her iced water glass aloft over the table and clinked it against Sol’s own.::

McLaren: :: Sol nodded. :: New experiences.

Sinda: So, what now, Sol? We have an entire planet at our disposal, granted most of it’s empty. And a spaceship in orbit. And we have no plans. ::she quirked an eyebrow:: Anything could happen.

McLaren: Anything? :: she grinned. ::

Sinda: You're the first person I've opened up to in a long, long time. Tell me I'm wrong, but there's more going on isn't there?

McLaren: You are pretty observant yourself… :: she nodded. :: Yes, there is.

Sinda: Just so long as you know I'd fly a million light years away from anything serious. I don't do commitments. ::she gave a faint smile:: Far too much like planning.

McLaren: :: she smiled. :: Of course. Like I said… sometimes things just happen.

---

Lieutenant (JG) Solaris McLaren

Chief Intelligence Officer

U.S.S. Constitution NCC-9012-B

C239210SM0

&

Lieutenant-Commander Sinda Essen

Chief Security Officer

USS Constitution-B

R238401JT0