If you listen close...
Posted on Mon Sep 2nd, 2019 @ 10:30am by Cornelius Warner MS
1,048 words; about a 5 minute read
Mission:
Canary
Location: Silver Tongue Brewing
Timeline: MD04 2230
There is an atmosphere that comes with a brewpub building. There is music, there is laughing and shouting, and there is more often than not, a lot of drinking. Silver Tongue encouraged all of these, as hand written chalk signs hung above the bar, with the current beers available (with a few other guest beers), the food being served, and specials. And there were a few more faces, Tamara having taken to her role as manager with stride and hired three more people. Which was good, because the bar was currently packed, with a mix of Starfleet and Civilians, many of the tables a mix of both.
Michael was freshly eighteen, a spunky man who's mother was apparently a geologist here. He was beyond excited to talk to people, which was probably his greatest flaw, he took time. Thill Zhaoblirc was the gifted chef in the back. According to her Tellarites had better taste than anyone, and her ability to cook had proved that she was probably right. James was the last hire, who insisted he had been a server before, and while he seemed to struggle with remembering orders, made up with it for being super punctual and good with his time management. All in all, it made for a good crew, which was a relief because Cornelius had vastly underestimated the popularity of his bar in the first little while. He was going to have to apologize to Aarav, hoping he hadn't stolen too much business.
Sitting at the end of the bar was two civilian scientists, a human woman and andorian male, who were trying their hardest to talk quietly, but considering the five or six beers they had each had, were failing miserably. As Cornelius approached them, noticing their empty glasses, he pointed to them and just gave a thumbs up, as if mentally asking 'more?' to which his signal was returned. Two Exaggerations were poured into the etched beer glasses, and placed them down in front of the two.
"... but you know, it's missing all it's tags! Why would it have that?" said the human, trying to lower her voice, and more achieving a harshed out voice of mild yelling. "I'm telling you, something is wrong with that shuttle."
"Virginia, I am telling you," replied the Andorian, "It's probably a really old civie one. Everyone being interested in it is probably because there was some lost shuttle in the area. You're paranoid." He crossed his arms and made a face that was probably supposed to look smug, but it was more of a 'I think I'm right but have no proof.' Cornelius cocked an eyebrow and leaned on the bar.
"You know, missing shuttles happen all the time," he added, "Honestly, a civilian survey shuttle may have just been lost shortly before the main team arrived." It was a poke to see how much they were going to slip.
"No Cornelius, you don't understand!" exclaimed Virginia, almost knocking her beer over as she threw her hands up to push her brown hair from her face and back into some semblance of a ponytail. "It's not a recent shuttle, it's an old shuttle!" The Andorian looked at her shocked, and she waved him off, clearly the more intoxicated of the two. "I-itr-Itiriabeeee, he's a bartender, don't even. Cornelius, listen, it's not like a new one, it's real old, and it has no registration. So like, it can't be a civilian shuttle!" Itiriab looked down and shook his head. Cornelius just laughed, a good hearty laugh that caused the woman to blush, whether from embarrassment or otherwise was unknown.
"Sounds like you have a rum runner on your hands," he stood up straight and placed his hands on his hips. He rummaged inside the apron he was wearing, and pulled out a cloth to wipe down the bit of spilled beer on the table before pulling the glasses away. When both of them stared at him blankly, he added, "You know, like from the old Earth Caribbean? Rum runners! You know, the smuggled rum along the coasts, and ran from pirates? They'd change their flags of call on the fly, make it harder to track if it was them you saw last." When the two looked at one another, it was Cornelius turn to look at them confused. "You seriously don't know about rum runners? Read some books, and maybe some fiction, they were fascinating. Maybe that's what you have!" It wasn't a bad lead, but it was likely misleading. Smugglers didn't scrub their registries, that was a surefire way to get caught. They used quick swap systems, so they could change them. And there would be no reason to smuggle out here from before a few decades ago, and this shuttle sounded older than that.
"I didn't even think of that," said Virginia in a finally quiet voice. Her green eyes met Cornelius's and she stood up, wavered and sat back down. "Tomorrow we should look at that!" she exclaimed to her partner who only shook his head, before looking to the bar owner with an almost pleading look.
"Please don't tell Captain Mahone or anyone else for that matter, that we talked about this. We really weren't supposed to..." he added. Dragging two fingers across his lips as those he were zippering them shut, Cornelius offered a wink.
"Then you should finish your beers and head home. And maybe have Virginia there drink some water. She is going to need it," he added with a laugh and moving further down the bar. The sensors in the bar recorded everything, and with a three fingered double tap on the underside of the bar, the system logged the last conversation he had had, and saved it to a private server to later be reviewed. SFI hadn't told him there was a mystery on his doorstep, so now he had questions to, ones he was sure the proper channels would shuffle around and have get lost, as was their style. He had a pretty good idea that it was going to be in one of the science labs by now or at a secured site. He was going to have to take tomorrow night off and go for a wander.
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