"Rumor Mills and Smooth Operators"

[Aaron_Westler 0]

"Rumor Mills and Smooth Operators"

an Odile and Prell log

 

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<<BEGIN LOG>>

 

The mess hall seemed louder then before, Prell thought to himself as he sat there eating his first meal out of Sickbay. Everything did after his time spent snatched away from the Agincourt. He sighed, and turned back to his steak and baked potatoes.

 

"Spotty?" A surprised voice came from behind him. "They let you out loose already? Without making sure you're some evil twin?"

 

Prell turned around to see Odile standing behind him. "Well now, if it isn't a sight for sore eyes...come sit down Odile, so I can keep an eye on that dagger of yours." He grinned.

 

Condacin didn't comment on the last part, her face instantly drawn tight. "To you, how long have you been gone?" she asked.

 

He frowned. "It feels like years. Lots has happened or changed."

 

"Very true." Odile considered. "I hear I get to off-load operations on you, for one."

 

He smirked. "Has it caused much trouble for you?"

 

"Not much. Tactical's handled phone-operator duties, for the most part really. But now you're around, no need for that."

 

"Guess I should polish up my smooth operator voice." He looked at her. "Anything else I should know?"

 

"It's been quite the maelstrom of activity for the last few months," Odile admitted. "Nothing that won't likely be in a report, or the gossip chain, I suppose..."

 

He smirked. "I havent been back but for 2 days, and I think I've heard it all already." He played with his potatoes with his fork. "What's your take on the NNC holodeck incident?"

 

Condacin shrugged. "Apparently the DNA analysis I did was incorrect -- or planted. We had a lead -- and one that looked like a damned good one -- but... what can I say? Even science is occasionally proven wrong."

 

Prell nodded. "That it is." He sighed. "Are we any closer to finding a way home?"

 

"Perhaps -- we've made a few friends... or semi-friends out here. And we know who has the technological means to get us home."

 

He nodded. "That's good. We've been out here long enough."

 

"Hopefully, soon, we'll dredge up what we need to bribe the resident species or whatever. I'd frankly like to get back to civilization as well."

 

"I think everyone is." Prell took a bite of his food, not feeling very much more hungry.

 

"So that little Romulan you were interested's not been moping about too much," Odile commented, a slight smirk on her face."

 

He frowned. "Oh yeah?"

 

"I really don't know all that much, but the rumor mill places her and one of my minions together."

 

Prell looked at Odile, thinking of a way to avoid that touchy subject. "Well, at least you have minions to start a rumour mill, who knows what kind of a department I have."

 

"Probably a few engineering cast-offs," she teased. "Operations' people are few, but I never had any trouble with them."

 

He smirked. "Well, at least something will be stable on this ship."

 

"Indeed."

 

Prell sighed again and pushed away his plate, all of a sudden just tired and wanting to rest in his quarters.

 

"Well, I think I'll call it a night, Odile. I have a department to figure out and run in the morning."

 

"Understandable. Good luck."

 

He smiled as he got up to leave. Luck? He already had received his fair share of luck by being returned to the Agincourt. He muttered to himself as he walked out the door.

 

"Let's not tempt Fate anymore, eh?"

 

<<END LOG>>

[Aaron_Westler 0]

Whoops, wrong account :)