Lt. Commander Samira Neathler - Where is the karaoke bar? - Part I
Samira Neathler
((Seedy Pub - Lower vIq'mItlh City))
Ensign Spelvan had taken a harder hit on the head than he first let the others believe. His brief stay in the bathroom area of the pub had been fruitful though. According to the Vulcan’s tale, a Klingon dressed somewhat smarter than most of the mining folk that frequented the pub, had slipped him a note, and referred him to the man sitting underneath the speaker. And it seemed Tahna was adamant to buy some drugs, instead of following the guy.
Neathler: Does anyone spot the guy Spelvan mentioned, or someone dressed differently? All I see are miners.
She could only hope the others wouldn’t turn their heads all at the same time.
Tahna: He’s probably slipped out already.
Auricsdóttir: Or perhaps he is in the back again.
Both ideas seemed plausible.
Spelvan: Perhaps he has a quota to meet for tonight... it was likely that I was one of his.
And that was also a possible option. Slipping a note into someone else’s hand while the surrounding people didn’t notice, it was not that difficult. Or just slip it into someone’s pocket for the owner of the pocket to detect the scribbling later. She watched Meru giving Spelvan a sad smile while she stood up, the Klingon note clutched in her hand. Whatever the Bajoran was planning, Samira already knew she did not like it.
Tahna: Be right back. ::Quietly, to Spelvan.:: Keep looking sickly. Sorry.
Spelvan: ::whispering back:: I appreciate your assertiveness.
And she was correct, as Tahna stepped towards the Klingon who sat underneath the speaker. How they even managed to exchange words underneath the noise was a miracle. But maybe the note was sufficient for the Klingon. Samira grabbed the mug and pretended to take a sip, and she held on to the mug even if she set the drinking container down on the table. A mug, correction, a metal mug could be as good a weapon as any other more weapon-looking objects. With most of its content still inside, the weight and the speed she could throw the mug at someone could be just the distraction they or Tahna needed in case something went wrong.
Auricsdóttir: It has been a day already.
Samira’s gaze shifted briefly from Tahna towards both ensigns. Barely having boarded the Gorkon, she had ended up in a dream world, where she was part of the Maquis fighting the resistance. She looked at her hand, her knuckles white from her grip on the mug. No, she was a loner first in that dream world, not even trusting the people who had saved her back.
At least here, even in a Klingon bar, she could keep an eye on these two ensigns and, her gaze shifted again towards Meru, a First Officer who was off to buy drugs. She was doing a poor job lately, with an ensign who already got himself injured and the XO who sat in front of a drug dealing Klingon.
Spelvan: ::thoughtfully:: What is it that humans talk about in situations like these? ::pause:: The weather? ::straight-faced, looking out the windows:: It is raining.
Auricsdóttir: Where I am from, we often talk about the weather. It snows more than it rains.
Their words barely registered, and it took a moment before Samira realized the two were talking about the weather. She gave a brief smile.
Neathler: The weather usually isn’t the subject of the day when you’re raised on a starship.
At the other table, she saw the Klingon laughing a few times after the note had transferred ownership. Meru nodded and returned to their table. Only when the commander sat down again, Samira released her grip on the mug. Whatever the commander had received from the Klingon, she passed it on to Spelvan.
Tahna: For your withdrawals.
Spelvan: ::carefully slipping it into his pocket.:: Much appreciated.
Samira kept quiet. At least they had a drug sample now. If it was from the same batch as the drugs they were after. It could be something totally harmless too.
Auricsdóttir: That was much quicker than I expected.
She agreed with the ensign. Things had happened rather quickly. They’d only beamed down and they already had bought drugs.
Spelvan: I have an idea that I hope is amendable. I suggest that we move locations to a... karaoke bar. Such establishments boast sound-proof, surveillance-free rooms for tourists and business dealings. An ideal place for our current needs.
An eyebrow shot up in the air when she heard the suggestion. From buying drugs to singing karaoke? If she didn’t know better, she would have thought they were here to forget their sorrows and problems and just have a good night out without having to worry about work or hangovers or whatever the next day. From the Vulcan’s description, those karaoke boxes could also be setup as a trap and for individuals with bad ideas to listen to the conversations happening and then blackmail the singers afterwards. Meru frowned at the idea.
Auricsdóttir: Klingon karaoke? Do they even have that?
She pushed the mug with bloodwine towards the middle of the table.
Neathler: They have to practice their opera somewhere.