There wasn’t room to sit at the bar, so Sanjiv had to content himself with idling behind the other patrons while he waited on his fourth mojito of the night. Normally, he’d strike up a conversation to pass the brief time it took to mix the drink, but tonight he was… jet-lagged. Exhausted. Still loopy. The mojitos probably weren’t helping.

He stood on his toes a moment, trying to get a view over the heads of all the Starfleet officers and other lodge patrons milling through the social mixer. His eyes quickly zeroed in on three waiters with hors d’oeuvre trays: target locked. As soon as the bartender handed him his drink, he was off. He hit up the first waiter with the tray of fancy little crackers, then zig-zagged towards the waiter with the fancy dumplings, and finally swerved to intercept the waiter with the fancy champagne flutes filled with– well, with something fancy, no doubt.

He made no greetings, no chatter, and simply focused on his mission: acquire snacks and bring them back to the little table in the corner where he was camped out with his new buddy and provider of gossip. His arms were stiff as he balanced his drink and the plates of food, so the dishes clattered a bit as he deposited them in front of Saffiya. “I have acquired provisions!” he said, triumphantly flinging his scarf back over his shoulder as he sat down.

“I think I’ve never seen someone dodge any attempt on conversation so skillfully!” Saffiya laughed and reached for–yes, fancy–crackers. Holy shit, they were gooood. A mixture of sweet and savory that was beyond satisfying, and made for a flavor so unique that Saffiya didn’t even think about adding strawberry jam and/or hot sauce.

“I am not avoiding conversation!” Sanjiv objected. He feigned offense with his over-exaggerated movements as he leaned across the table and pointed at his erstwhile roommate. “I am zeroing in on the only one that matters! Now…”

He scanned the room again, picking out faces he didn’t recognize. Which was nearly all of them. “Alright, that Trill over there cannot possibly be a member of this task force. Or Starfleet. He’s too beautiful, he looks like a sculpture. Although, the Andorian also looks like a sculpture, but that’s just because he’s standing like one. Do you know him?”

“Huh?” she asked and followed his gaze and regarded the out-of-place looking Andorian. “Oh, that’s Ishreth Dal, I think. Walks and talks like he has a stick up his butt. The Trill? Captain Ceix.” she lowered her voice. Enough to indicate that she was divulging a secret, but not enough so that the surrounding tables couldn’t possibly hear her. “He’s dating the CO of the Givens. Rescued them from a telepathic lifeforms and everything.”

“Of course he did,” Sanjiv sighed. He shifted in his seat and picked out another face in the crowd for his game of ‘how many Captains can Saffiya name (and has she heard any buzz about them)’. “What about that big fellow with the beard in the sleeveless shirt? Or that other gentleman in the corner who looks old enough to be my father?”

“Uhh..”

Saffiya snatched a dumpling and shoved it into her mouth, then raised a one finger in the universal gesture for ‘hold that thought, I’m mid-chew’. Then she pointed vaguely in the direction of the bearded man, narrowing her eyes as if mentally scrolling through her internal gossip database.

“That’s Aakon Keacen. Commanding the … I have no clue, pretty sure he was transferred recently. And the other one is Captain Traven and probably the only person here who knows what happened to the USS T’Kara…”

She paused for dramatic effect, and to reach for her drink.

Sanjiv choked on his mojito. He quickly brought a cocktail napkin up to his mouth as he wheezed at Saffiya. “What about the T’Kara?” he asked, wondering if he’d misheard.

“I have no idea. I just know the ship vanished? It’s classified. No one tells me anything that has the slightest chance of being confidential, let alone classified.” A pause. “I wonder why.”

Spoiler: Saffiya knew exactly why.

Sanjiv’s laugh turned into another coughing fit as he evicted the last of the mojito from his lungs. “My mentor in the Spacecraft Investigation Bureau worked on the T’Kara. Never could tell me much about it, though. I didn’t have the clearance.”

He leaned forward and studied Traven from afar. “I’d love to talk to him. Not that he could tell me anything. Probably. I’m assuming.”

“Do it.”

Sanjiv took another cautious sip of his mojito. “I think I’ll wait until I’m sober, though.”

“Ugh. Boring.” Saffiya sighed. “But probably wise.”

She glanced at Sanjiv’s drink, made a face because she couldn’t have any, and stole his snacks. Because she was petty.

Sanjiv sighed dramatically and slid his half-eaten champagne flute of custard towards the middle of the table as well, just in case.

Continued in Part Two.