An Interrupted Chat

The Never Ending Quest - Episode 18032

A bit later, on the order of three hours....

Daneel

Thus far, events around this station (particularly this bar) and the ship have been mirroring the story that Betty told us about earlier.

The Klingons of this reality have arrived and are enjoying shoreleave rights. The tension on the station has gone up due in part of that, being that the Klingon Empire and the Federation of this reality are suffering something of a "cold war" as Ragan put it.

Noticing that I and Baley are looking at the rather smooth (and human looking) foreheads on the Klingons, B'Elanna sighs and says not to ask. It's not something that Klingons discuss with outsiders.

But before dropping the subject, Ragan says back on the TV show it had been due to in part to special effects budget.

......

Okay.

Anyway, no sign of Darvin as of yet.

Roxanne, O'Brien, Worf, and Bashir have arrived with no news of Darvin's whereabouts. All but Roxanne look a bit dragged out. She, as always, looks lovely....

"Well, do sit gentlemen," I say, nodding to some open chairs, "crawling through conduits must have been a bit taxing. I had been just about to place an order here before you'd come, so..."

After a quick question on what they'd like, I place an order with the brunette waitress, who returns quickly with the order.

Brashir and O'Brien look at each other. Bashir shrugs and then they both sit, taking their drinks in hand. I can see that I'd judge the situation correctly, for whatever complaints about us being here and them out there vanished with weary smiles. Several Star Fleet patrons look in askance at why two fellow Star Fleet members would sit with merchants and such instead of them, but shrug and just return to their conversations.

"Well, I can't say that you don't lack good manners," O'Brien says appreciatively, "No, can't say that."

Bashir echoes that sentiment, then adding his thanks.

"I take it you haven't had any luck here either?" Bashir finally asks in a friendly, bantering voice, "No Klingon coffee orders?"

"Rather too many orders, alas." Gladia sighs, nodding to several Klingons in a corner, their grey uniforms having a metallic glint in several places.

O'Brien asks what she meant, and upon finding out about the Klingons in this bar (ala Star Trek: TOS style) looks over at Worf (who's Star Trek: TNG style of Klinong body's most notable feature is somewhat masked by his hat).

"It's none of you business!" B'Elanna hisses softly, heading off the questions that Betty and Ragan (from the looks of them) know will be coming, "Give the man some space and not ask questions that only Klingon's should know."

The harsh whispers don't carry beyond the table, but have enough bite to them to stop both curious Star Fleeters in their tracks. Worf, seeing that, sighs slightly in relief.

He then stiffens slightly in surprise when he sees who comes through the bar's door next.....and sits....right....down at their table... Along with a small contingent of his friends....

The others, having sensed the man's coming, are no less suddenly stiff in surprise than Worf.

There is a word that comes unbidden to his lips. Something a captain he served under awhile ago had said on several occassions.....

"Merde!" Worf whispers.

I myself blink a few times in surprise. While it was possible that eventual contact was possible, we had thought the chances low that Darvin would somehow trip up....and so badly as to tip off....

"I found something of yours in a storage bin," the man in the green shirt, "Was a touch louder than he should have been and the two guards outside found several unwelcome guests inside. Had an interesting....."

The man in the green shirt is then interrupted by another man who comes storming into the room.

  1. "Kirk!" he shouts, "Why is my aide under house arrest?!"

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12/22/2001 6:07:49 AM

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