Cmdr. Clifton / Pondering recent events / no tag

[Steve Bruin]

  *** Starbase Main Promenade ***

  After speaking to Rayder, Clifton headed to a busier section of the base, one where many of the civilian businesses were located.  There was a lot about this whole thing that didn't make sense and he wanted a little time to consider his next move.  Casually walking about the huge area, he noted a few storefronts that he did not recall from his last visit some months ago. It was not really all that surprising as this sector the Federation was expanding into a few new colony planets, as well as servicing an increasing amount of both Starfleet and civilian space traffic.  A few businesses did however catch his attention, one of a Bajoran restaurant and the other some sort of grocery store that apparently catered to unusual foods and spices.

  Nothing really caught his attention about much here in this section, his mind was trying to come up with scenarios that would explain what had happened.  Rayder claimed that he had gotten orders from very high up, telling him to allow Silva off the base with anything she liked.  That may have been the truth, but by the same token Rayder could be lying to cover his own tracks if he were involved in something unsavory. In order to determine rather or not Rayder was telling the truth, then Clifton would need to access command orders received by Rayder over the last several days.  This was going to prove quite a problem as those records were classified and off limits to anyone without proper authority, he also didn't want anyone to know he was nosing around so he would have to handle all this as secretly as possible.

   Stopping in his tracks he noted one small business that he had never seen before, if one could even call what looked like an oversized closet a business.  The neon sign just over the entrance said "CHB#14 Cyber-Cafe", and from peering in the door it looked like a large storage closet into which someone had placed a bar and a few tables and chairs. Upon each table was a civilian computer terminal, and from what he knew about cyber-cafes, this place allowed patrons to get a drink and use the civilian comm systems for various purposes.  He slowly entered the front door and heard what some would call music coming from the adjacent room behind the bar, he also noted something else and that was the fact that every one of the maybe 7 patrons seated about the room looked no more than maybe 25 years of age.  It went without saying that they were civilian due to their clothing, hairstyles and tattoos which covered just about every one of them.

   Stepping through the door and into something of another habitat he realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach what he had walked into, this was a business that catered to the steampunk genre.  It was something he only knew about slightly and at the moment it was quite popular with the young people throughout the Federation, well so much for remaining inconspicuous because in here amongst these kids he stuck out like a sore thumb.

   Easily heading to an empty table and taking a seat he casually looked about, it was hardly a surprise that most of the patrons were staring at him with looks of suspicion on their faces.

Waitress: Hey Papi, if you're here to hassle us, we have all our permits in order.

   Turning to speak, Clifton paused as he got a good look at the waitress who looked maybe 20 years old.  Her blonde hair was dyed red on one side and purple on the other, matching purple rouge that she wore heavily under each eye.  Neon red lipstick gave her mouth a somewhat exaggerated appearance and tattoos were visible on both her arms and what he could see of her chest.  Jewelry from a few different cultures was attached to her clothing in various places and a gold nose ring was secured just above her upper lip.

Clifton: smiling : No, no.  I'm not here to hassle you, I just stopped in for a drink.

  With a look that betrayed both disdain and nonbelief, she answered.

Waitress: Okay, what'll you have?

Clifton: Whiskey neat.

Waitress: What's that mean?

Clifton: No ice.

Waitress: That's extra, Papi.  

   With that she turned and walked away toward the bar, eyeing the paper on the table he saw the rate for computer usage by the hour.  A single hour was only a few credits, so he figured his stay would be brief.  He needed someone who could poke around in the database for him, of course that would be illegal so he needed someone who was well versed in this area, someone who knew their way around access barriers and would leave no trace of their presence ... someone known in common parlance as a hacker.

   He knew precisely the right people, 3 misfits whom he had met a year or so earlier.  These guys loved nothing better than poking around the Galactic Dark Web and digging up evidence of conspiracies (either genuine or contrived) and if he were lucky then he might be able to convince them to help him.  Of course that was only possible if they weren't in some Federation penal colony somewhere, which was where he had first met them.

Cmdr. Clifton

XO

USS Odyssey

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