Casual Conversation

Posted on Sat Dec 15th, 2012 @ 8:58pm by Cadet Senior Grade Eli Ziyad & Suresh & Commander Oralia Zeferino

Mission: The Struggle Within
Location: Saturnalia, The Cherry Pit

* * * Saturnalia * * *

The meeting with Robin had been good, and strange, all at once. Eli now sat at a table along the wall. He’d come, hoping to find Seyla to thank her but like the Wormhole when he’d checked there, no Seyla. Eli had taken the time to leave a message for Vor as to where he’d be, then arranged for a few days off from classes at the Academy. Now he sat at the table, a glass of water before him. The small clay model of Chance’s face he held in his hand, looking it over as he sat and let his thoughts roam.

The bar itself was crowded and most of the tables were full. It was good cover for the hooded figure that sat across the room, keeping watch on Eli. A drink sat on the table but it was, for the most part, untouched. He needed a clear head so he could keep his own thoughts. And he needed his own thoughts now as he watched the young man. He had no idea what was going on but it had a lot to do with that young man and he intended to find out just what it was, or remove the problem.

Across the room in a different direction sat Oralia Zeferino. She, too, had a mostly untouched drink in front of her and she, too, was watching Eli. She, however, wasn’t really seeing Eli. She was seeing her brother lean in close to Eli and the two laugh over some shared joke, or her brother touching Eli’s shoulder in way that spoke of his possessiveness and affection for the young man. Her attention was diverted for a moment by a waitress stopping to ask if she needed anything. “Ah, no, thanks,” Oz shook her head and, when the waitress had passed on to the next table, morosely stirred her drink.

The sudden jarring of the table pulled her attention back to the here and now. Someone had bumped into the chair on the other side of the table and spilled his drink onto the table itself. He was apologizing but it was impossible to see his face beneath the dark brown hood of the robe he wore.

“It’s okay. Stop... stop...,” she urged the person, who was trying to mop up the liquid with the tiny square of napkin he’d had in his hand. “Really, the waitress will get it.” And, true to Oz’s word, the waitress did come up and wipe up the spill with a towel, before promising to bring the fellow a new one and moving away.

“I am sorry to intrude.” The voice was soft, with a husky quality that made it completely unremarkable. The person paused, then spoke again. “You are Commander Zeferino, Security, are you not?”

She tried to see under the hood, but couldn’t. The man’s hands were gloved and, she guessed, his face was not only hooded but covered by black cloth. “That I am,” she nodded, “And you are?”

“Arzan. Just a local is all. May I buy you a drink?”

She couldn’t see the harm in that. Plus, it might get the follow out of her line of sight to Eli. “Sure, have a seat,” she said and took a sip from her current drink. “Are you passing through Arzan or a resident of the ‘base?”

“I’ve been here for a while now and I have made myself at home I think. It is an interesting place. All kinds, you know.” He lowered himself into the chair to Oz’s side, which gave both of them a view of Eli. This close, Oz was having an unsettling effect on him and he wasn’t so sure he liked it.

She softly snorted out a chuckle. “My brother called it a box of chocolates,” she badly misquoted Chance.

“Chocolates?” His head tilted as he considered her comment. “How so?”

“In that it’s a mystery what you’ll come across with people,” she shrugged. She didn’t actually know the phrase he used. “All kinds... that’s what made me think of it... anyway,” she shook her head and sipped her drink.

“You never know what you’ll get.” The words slipped out before he could stop them.

“Right, that’s the line: People are like a box of chocolates, till you open ‘em up, you never know what you’ll get. He loved talking to people. Did you know Chance?” Oz again tried to determine the face under the hood.

“No, I didn’t know him at all, sorry.” The drinks arrived and he took his in hand but didn’t drink from it. “So who is the young man you’re watching?”

“He’s a friend of my brother’s, of Chance’s, who was recently murdered,” Oz answered, her voice thick with emotion. “His name is Eli.”

“Eli.” There was an unmistakable note of longing in the man’s voice as he repeated the name. “He’s beautiful.”

Oralia froze, her face turned towards Eli. Her eyes, however, shifted towards the hooded male. Had she just imagined the tone in the man’s voice or was that there for real? Was she cracking up as much as Eli? “Ah...,” she nodded once, “He is quite good looking, yes. Have you met him?”

“No, but he seemed to be rather curious about me earlier while I was having coffee.” The man shrugged.

Turning towards the man fully, Oz said, “He said a hooded man was watching him and sent him a note. Was that you?”

“I was curious about him because he was curious about me. I am not aware of a note, however.” He shrugged. “Perhaps he is having trouble coping with his loss?”

“Not that much trouble,” Oz said, uncaring whether it was true or not; she wasn’t about to tell this stranger more than he needed to know about Eli and how he was coping. “I have the note, so it wasn’t his imagination.” Though concern for him and how he was handling his loss was why she was there, watching Eli.

“And he thinks I delivered it? Interesting. I would be happy to speak with him if you think it would help?”

“No, that isn’t necessary,” Oz was quick to decline the offer. The man’s tone earlier had her on edge and she wasn’t about to subject Eli to this man. “He got a look at the man without his hood,” she watched the hooded man, “He said it was a Hazari.”

“A Hazari? Here on the station? That might be of some concern to you in your position.”

“Perhaps,” was her only answer. Suddenly she wanted to see this man’s face, to know what species he was. Any move towards her commbadge or PADD would alert him to exactly what she wanted. Gloves, hood, facial coverage... it was starting to niggle at her. “What business are you in here on the Station?”

“I am actually a man of leisure at the moment,” he answered truthfully. “Though I do have a friend for whom I do odd jobs now and again, mostly business related but nothing extensive. Some might use the word lackey. I get called to deal with minor things when the rest are busy.”

Oz’s brain turned that language over, like a child trying to see which hole the square peg fit into. There were so many positions on the Station that would fit that description; it was obviously intentionally vague. And that made her want to know why. “Interesting. Who is the friend?”

“Everyone calls him The Rat. That’s all he’s ever gone by.” The man shrugged. “Would you care for one more drink before I say goodbye?” He was speaking to Oz, but his gaze was on Eli once again.

“Ah, no, thanks. Two’s my limit.” She didn’t really have a limit, but something about this fellow was bothering her. If she could have, she’d have warned Eli to leave now. Either that, or stay put well after this guy was gone. The Rat... the name came close to triggering something, but she couldn’t put a finger on it. Darwin would know; ‘course, Darwin was missing, having fallen through one of the rifts in the Admiral’s office. That reminded her: she needed to kick his ass for that. “Thank you for the one, though, Arzan.”

“It has been a pleasure.” He stood and bowed slightly and started away. Then he stopped and turned back. “By the way, Oz, did you get on the ball and call home? Tell them about Jackson yet?” The words reached Oz and moments later, the man left her, slipping through the tables, suddenly in a hurry to be gone. Again, words had come that made no sense to him. What he wanted was still seated at a table inside but he knew where to find him...and he was patient.

Focusing sharply on the man’s departing back, Oralia was up in another moment, tapping her commbadge and calling for Security to identify the man. She followed him out of the bar, but quickly lost sight of him. “Shit...,” she muttered. Alarms were going off for her - in one of her last conversations with Chance, he’d admonished her to ‘get on the ball’ and tell their parents about her pending nuptials. Also, ‘Oz’ was a nickname that wasn’t casually used with her, and certainly not by civilians. Grunting in frustration, she turned and went back into the bar.

****************
Lt. Commander Oralia Zeferino
Getting on the Ball, All Right

The Enforcer
Saying Nothing, Acting Casual

Cadet 4th Class Eli Ziyad
At Loose Ends