Arthur Summerside: Miner Observation

[Keegan Flick-Parker]

((Amity Outpost - The Spire, Observation Deck))

Pix: ::Coming to sit by Arthur:: Now, now, don’t talk that way. You seem glum… ::Arthur shook his head silently:: Homesick? ::Arthur was still:: What would it take to cheer you up?

Summerside: Some real Briorian hooch wouldn’t hurt. Can’t stand that syntheholic dog soup they serve here… Other than that?

Arthur leaned back in his seat and stared out at the nebula.

Summerside: Information. The worst part about being a reporter is the waiting, Pix. Especially when you’re like me - on the outside, looking in. The Federation’s the most exciting thing to happen to this Quadrant in longer than anybody can think of and I want in on that action.

Pix: Well, you’re working on it, right?

Summerside: Yeah… Yeah, I guess so. But that’s a long way off, I don’t doubt. It’ll take some time before they realize I’m really an okay guy.

Arthur’s eye caught sight of the door to the Observation deck sliding open. He turned to see who else had come to gaze. 

McLaren: Oh, Sorry I am interrupting? Mind if I join?

Immediately, Arthur recognized McLaren. His initial article for the Briori Sun on the situation with the Hawlat had led him down a rabbit hole of reports from Antor II. Seemed that wherever mining issues plagued the Federation, Miss Evelyn McLaren could be found.

All the same, he surmised that she had not recognised him - or else she was surprisingly confident for someone currently embroiled in Amity Outpost’s first major diplomatic incident. He decided to play it cool, at least for the time being.

He shot a glance at Pix that suggested the Talaxian should make an excuse to leave, then turned back to the newcomer, gesturing to the available seating at the table with an inviting smile.

Arthur: Come here often? ::A protracted pause broken by Arthur’s chuckle:: Summerside, Arthur… and you are?

McLaren:  I am Evelyn McLaren, Chief of Mining Operation on Amity. What do you do here? 

oO Perhaps she is just overly-confident. Were I in her position right now, I’d be very careful what I shared about my work. Oo

Arthur: Ahh, me? ::A dismissive wave:: I’m a writer - oO not a lie Oo - just visiting the station for some inspiration. A local fella here to see what all the hubbub is about. ::Indicating the Talaxian who still sat at the table with a foolish grin plastered on his face:: this is my old pal, Pix. Don’t mind him, he was just leaving…

Pix clued in at last and, with an amicable bow, excused himself from the table - walking over to a window and peering out at the nebula beyond.

Arthur: Miss, uhh, McLaughlin was it? Sorry, Miss McLaren - yes, that’s what you said. There’s been plenty of talk around the station about some sort of situation with the mines. I’d hate to bother you about work on your time off, but me and the other locals are all curious. Don’t suppose you could set the record straight for me? 

McLaren: Ah, I see, just having some issues with the Halwat people, but that's my job I guess. 

Arthur: Issues, eh? With the Hawlat. ::A performance of uncertainty:: Ahh, yes, I think I’ve heard of them. Religious folk, yes? Well, hopefully those issues resolve themselves. Personally, I try to stay out of other people’s religious business.

McLaren: I see, I hope that suits you well, I do find it hard sometimes with all these policies and issues, but I am keen to learn more on the Delta Quadrant species. 

Arthur: Oh, it suits me very well. I’m all for tolerance, tempered with a bit of practicality of course. ::A pause for that to sink in:: So, if you’ve been put in charge of mining operations, does that mean you’re a local as well?

Arthur took the middle road, not wanting to press his advantage too much. oO Just start her talking… Oo he thought.

McLaren: Oh, I am not from here, I was originally born on Meridian in the “ The Shoals”, and grew up on Antor II. I moved here when this job opened up. Actually some of the senior crew of Amity saved my life when they were stationed aboard the Veritas. 

Arthur: oO Yes, I know… Oo You don’t say? How spectacular. I take it that’s why you partnered up with the Federation then. This new station.. ::looking around:: sure is something.

McLaren: What brings you out here? 

Arthur: To Amity? Why, curiosity of course. I heard it killed the cat, but then, I’ve always considered myself more of a dog person. I like keeping my nose low to the ground - and I go wherever it leads me. ::Gesturing around the room:: Even here.

Arthur regretted the Observation Deck’s lack of a bar and thought, momentarily, of retiring from the Journo Biz and starting up a gin joint on the station - a flight of fancy he’d had more than once before on several different assignments. But he could never tie himself down like that.

Arthur: Say, I don’t mean to pry, but I’ve heard rumours about the mining operations here. Is it true that the miners have.. ::leaning in and whispering:: ..deliberately injured several of those migrating creatures that float around the nebula to keep them away from their operations?

A rumour he’d dismissed himself as soon as he heard it. The Federation would never let such a thing happen - but, when presented with such a distasteful accusation, the natural response was to defend oneself with the truth. He wondered if Miss McLaren would bite.

McLaren: Response

Arthur: Of course, I didn’t want to believe it - but you know how these ideas spread. Now that I recall, I think I heard the Hawlat worship those beasts, isn’t that right? I suppose that’s made things complicated for the mining industry, hmm?

McLaren: Response

Arthur: I understand. That must be frustrating. How have the mining corporations been handling the interruption?

McLaren: Response

Arthur: And you - that’s a lot of responsibility. Has the Federation been much help in negotiating that situation?

McLaren: Response

Arthur: ::Smiling:: Like, I said. I’m curious. You don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to. But, if I were you, I’d try to stay as transparent as possible in such matters. There’s a lot of eyes on The Federation - and on the benamite miners, ya know? This matter will either win or lose you both a lot of hearts and minds.

McLaren: Response.

TBC

==

PNPC Arthur Summerside (he/him/his)

Civilian Journalist,

Amity Outpost

As simmed by:

 

Ensign Kivik (ne/nem/nir)

Science Officer,

Amity Outpost

V239806K11