Lieutenant JG Indrid Yirah - I'd Prefer Mercenaries

[Zeno]

(( The Sink - Starbase 104 ))

Starbase 104 was a lot larger than the Conny, despite both being, at the end of the day, floating vessels in space. Having grown used to the quick transitions between decks onboard a ship that was comparatively much much smaller than a starbase, it had taken longer than Indrid had expected to reach this Sink (He still wasn't sure why it was called that, it seemed a strange name to him). As Indrid's eyes adjusted to the dimmer lighting, he looked around nervously as though he half-expected one of those pirates or mercenaries to just randomly jump out at him like something out of a bad dream. But, he wasn't seeing any.

oO Well, of course. What'd you think? That they would just have a sign that says 'Hey, look at me I'm a pirate!' Hmm? Oo

Indrid internally shrugged to himself and focused on paying attention to where Diz'mim was going on the walkway only lit by neon. He stayed to Diz'mim's left and about a step behind the other man. 

Yirah: So, I take it that you've been here before Commander?

Ch'Nilmani: Nope. Never been here but every Starbase large enough has a place like this. It's the Sink here, on Starbase 118 it's The Dungeon or the Laikan District. All being look for places like this and where they gather, you can learn a lot.

Yirah: Did you ever work in Intelligence directly, or was it part of your job in security?

He shuffled slightly closer to Diz'mim as a couple of people passed by them.

Ch'Nilmani: Not directly. the Andorian military didn't have as strict lines as we do here in Starfleet. If you're in Security, you gonna have some Tactical and Intelligence experience. It's more about survival and getting ahead of your enemy.

Ch'Nilmani: How about you? You just hyperfixated on science?

Yirah: I just do whatever I find interesting. I guess security just never really captured my imagination. 

Ch'Nilmani: I think an old human described security the best. Six months of sheer boredom followed by six minutes of sheer terror.

The pair had entered an area lit by colorful neon. The contrast between the bright neon lights in the otherwise dimly lit area hurt Indrid's eyes a bit. 

Indrid noticed that most of the shops didn't have names. oO How odd. Oo

Yirah: Reminds me of an Earth city called Las Vegas. I went there once while I was in the Academy. The city still has neon like this. ::he waved his left hand vaguely at the neon around them::

Ch'Nilmani: Never been there. Sounds like you have had a bit of adventure.

Indrid grinned. 

Ch'Nilmani: What?

Yirah: It's actually kind of funny that they are called neon lights, when most don't even have neon inside. Even the ones that go through the trouble of using real gas to get the desired color use other gases like argon and helium.

Ch'Nilmani: Huh. That's fascinating. I know this type of lighting is popular among a lot of species. :: pausing and then exclaiming :: Ah! There it is. Come!

(( Chezara's Tea Shop - The Sink - Starbase 118 ))

Before the hurt behind Indrid's eyes could turn into a full on headache, Diz'mim stopped at a blue tent. Even outside Indrid could catch the pleasant scent of spices. Inside, the lighting was still dim, but there was no harsh neon contrast straining his eyes anymore. 

Chezara: Ah. Starfleet. The tea is not yet ready. 

Indrid's eyes flicked over to the speaker. An elderly Orion woman sat perched upon a wooden stool, PADD in hand.

Ch'Nilmani: We're not in any rush. I hope you don't mind us stopping by. 

oO A tea shop? Oo 

Indrid wasn't sure what he had been expecting as Diz'mim had led them through the Sink, but it definitely hadn't been this. Not that the Andorian couldn't like tea, but well... it was surprising in a way Indrid couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Chezara: Make yourself at home. :: to Indrid :: Don't worry, I don't bite...much anymore.

oO Bite? Oo

He followed Diz'mim to one of the worn fur couches and sat down as the Orion woman went to prepare the tea. The place wasn't really all that comfortable, steam from the kettles made the tent much hotter than the walkway had been and Indrid had begun to sweat. 

oO Why not keep the tent flap open to let some of the heat out and cooler air in? Oo

Ch'Nilmani: :: quietly :: You good?

Yirah: What? 

It was more of an automatic response as the question took a couple of moments to actually process in Indrid's mind. One moment to actually focus on what the question was, because he had been distracted by the heat, and another moment to figure out why the question had been asked. Indrid realized that he was pulling at the fabric of his shirt where it had stuck to his skin with sweat.

Yirah: Yes, I'm good. Just hot in here is all. 

It occurred to Indrid that as Diz'mim was Andorian, the heat was probably far worse for him than it was for Indrid.

Yirah: Um... are you good?

Ch'Nilmani: Oh, yeah. I'm good. I was actually thinking of bringing you hear when we met up. 

At that, Indrid stopped fidgeting with his shirt, turning to meet Diz'mim's gaze. 

Yirah: Is that so?

Indrid quickly scanned the tent again searching for anything he hadn't noticed before, realizing where his surprise from earlier came from— this place was suspiciously benign for one who had sought out the Sink specifically for its more shifty characters. 

Ch'Nilmani: :: big grin :: Whatcha think of Orion ladies? 

Indrid felt as though he had been shocked into clarity. As though he could suddenly see exactly where this was going and he didn't like it one bit.

Yirah: Well... :: he gestured to the person running the tea shop :: She seems a gracious host...

He tried to steer them off that particular path.

Ch'Nilmani: Well...I have a surprise for you and depending on your answer whether it will be good or bad. 

Aaannnd he failed. His attempt swatted away like a fly. 

It was at that time that their gracious host returned with the tea. 

Diz'mim showed her something on his necklace. But Indrid was too busy trying to shove whatever sort of pagh, katra, or soul he had back into his body to pay attention.

Ch’Nilmani: Are they still at the outer edge of the sink? Section 22-B? 

Chezara: Oh, yes. And they brought in a new batch today. 

There was an elbow nudging him, as Diz'mim leaned over. 

Ch’Nilmani: Here that? New batch! 

oO Help. Oo

Yirah: :: his voice an octave higher than normal :: I think I'd prefer a chat with some mercenaries. 

Ch’Nilmani: Trust me. Drink your tea. 

(( Outer Edge of Section 22-B - The Sink - Starbase 104 )) 

If someone had told Indrid an hour ago that he'd soon be wishing for a pirate or mercenary to cross his path, he'd have laughed. But here he was, hoping one would show up to stop him and Diz'mim from going wherever it was that they were going. Diz'mim pulling him along, with that grin on his face that meant he had mischief on the mind. 

And yet... Indrid was going. Indrid blamed his curiosity. It wasn't that he wanted to go. It was that if he didn't go his curiosity would remain unsated, an itch in his mind.

Diz'mim came to a halt, it seemed that they had arrived. It wasn't much, just a single old man guarding a plain door.

Ch’Nilmani: Now remember, They don’t take credits directly as they don’t translate well but they will have an exchange service. The fees are a bit high but I can talk them down for you. 

Yirah: I'll probably mess up the exchange. 

Ch’Nilmani: Nah, you’ll be fine. Just remember to be polite. You can get really far with them if you’re polite. :: winking :: Trust me. 

Yirah: :: mumbling :: I'm not sure I want to get really far with them.

Indrid looked behind his shoulder, back down the path they had taken. He heard the door open, and suddenly Diz'mim was practically dragging him forward, first through the door and then towards a curtain draped over an inner entrance. Like a showman, Diz'mim pulled back the curtain, gesturing inside. 

Ch’Nilmani: As the terrans say, Voila!! 

All Indrid could do was stare, eyes wide, the sound of his blood pounding in his ears. 

After several seconds the shock began to wear off, turning into a confusing mixture of both joy and outrage. 

Joy, because Diz'mim had not, in fact, taken them to a brothel of Orion women.

And outrage, because Diz'mim had led Indrid to believe that they were going to a brothel of Orion women.

Finally, he managed to turn to Diz'mim, staring daggers into the other man. 

Yirah: :: sarcastically :: So, are the Orions behind the monks, or do we have a dimensional anomaly on our hands? 

Ch’Nilmani: response

Yirah: I'm sure you're very pleased with yourself. 

Ch’Nilmani: response

Indrid felt some of his anger dissipate.

Yirah: I'm fine. ::  he turned back to the room :: More than fine, really. :: excitement clear on his face :: I mean, just look at this place! 

He tried to keep his voice down to avoid disturbing the monks.

Ch’Nilmani: response 

There were multiple shelves in the room. Each shelf was lined with books, real books! They were old too, some looking as though they had even been bound by hand. 

Yirah: Now, I know why the prices are expensive. Some of these are probably priceless.

Ch’Nilmani: response

--

Lieutenant JG Indrid Yirah

Science Officer

USS Constitution-B

C240010IY1