Post by aoibheni on Apr 11, 2017 18:42:56 GMT
“All right, everyone, you know the drill!” she shouted as she thumped the wall-mounted comm unit on the slanted bulkhead of her cramped quarters. Red alert klaxons, or at least, this ship's cheap alternative, blared wildly. “Step lively, let's go!”
She'd wriggled into her pants and pulled her belt high and tight around her waist before she felt the tractor beam grip their hull. Grabbing a loose shirt that had once been white, she wrapped it around her bare chest, fastened it as she opened her door, hastily returned to the room to grab her boots and then bolted to the cargo hold.
“Valdore Class” Winston called from his position on the cargo bay floor as she descended the creaking metal gangplank.
“Same one as last time?” her wild, curling, red hair bobbed and bounced as she hurried down.
“Nope. This one came in hot n heavy.” He barely even blinked at his Captain's dishevelled state. Straight to business. He was a good fit as XO.
“All right...” she cleared her throat, boots still dangling by her side, grasped by the laces. Her small crew paused and looked at her. “This is no different than last time, or the time before that, or the time before that, OK? Keep your calm, remember your manners, and we'll be back on track soon.”
She turned to Winston and spoke softly. “Are the meds stashed?”
He nodded. “Richley has them stowed in the hide-away under the core. We have a max of 55 minutes before the heat starts to degrade it, though. Maybe an hour.”
“Hm.” Danann pulled on a boot as she glanced over at the young Engineer. He was fidgeting. “Calm him down, would ya?” She pulled on the second boot and stood up straight.
“And make sure we've that dilithium hidden, too, but not, you know...too well.”
Winston nodded once, his broad shoulders and thick neck bending too, giving the motion an oddly deferential feel. "Got it."
Danann pulled her hair out of her face and moved to the closest wall comm.
“Leeson, are we dealing with the Republic or the Empire?”
“I'm eh... kinda busy!”
“Dude, the ship is being tractored. It's not like you're having to actively pilot.”
“There's a lot more to this than-”
“Don't try to bullshit me.”
“... They didn't exactly volunteer information, Captain.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but the whining sound of a transporter put an end to the discussion. She'd find out who had detained them soon enough.
Looking around the cargo hold, she saw Richley quivering still, Winston returning to her side. “Rich, Engineering, now.”
Seven Romulans appeared in a shimmering haze in front of a neatly stowed wall of crates.
Seven, Niamh noted. You'd swear we were dangerous...
“Welcome aboard the Granuaille.” She said, stepping forward. “I'm Captain Danann.”
A slender woman in a centurion uniform cast her eyes around the small cargo hold. She then gave Danann a cursory glance. “You are in Romulan Space. Your ship will be impounded, your cargo confiscated, and your crew put to work. Resist, and you will be punished, is that clear?”
Danann forced her shoulders to relax. “I gotta say, normally, I'd go well outta my way to find a woman in uniform willing to order me around, but...” she looked up at Winston to her side and gave him curious look, “but in this case, ma'am I have to protest. This is Federation space.”
Winston nodded.
She continued, “We'd never have ventured into Romulan space deliberately. I mean, look at us. A Type 5 cargo hauler. No shields, minimal weapons, no armour, no escort. Why risk it?” Danann smiled. They couldn't even plump to send a sub-commander. Jeez.
The woman gestured to the cargo, neatly stacked and compartmentalised.
“Search it.” she ordered.
Danann winced. “No, don't...” she found her hands balling into fists and made the effort to release the build up of tension. “The contents are perishable, ma'am. Biological matter in suspended animation, meant for the Zeta Nine colony, can you please not-”
The centurion's henchmen started to pull the lids off each crate, one after the other.
“Stop!” she called out. “I can show you our star charts, you can see exactly where we are headed, where we are now...”
More crates were destroyed.
The centurion glided up to Danann, her dark, pitted eyes finally boring into Danann's face. “This... is not a discussion,” she reminded the red head. “As you say, you have no shields, no armour... you could barely blast a comet out of your path with the pathetic phasers I saw pasted to your hull.” She halted her advance mere inches away from Danann. Niamh could detect a slight floral fragrance from the woman's dark skin. It was distracting and not all together unpleasant. Her head spun with adrenaline.
“This is Romulan space. Say it.”
Danann clenched her teeth.
The centurion took meticulous note of Niamh's wild state of disarray. She smirked at her untied boots. “Say it, station rat.”
Danann's blood beat loudly in her ears and her face prickled with a flush of indignant anger. She heard Winston shift his sizeable weight to the balls of his feet as crates continued to crash to the cargobay floor.
“Say it.”
Niamh forced a smile, “We had no idea our star charts were so out of date.” What she wouldn't have given to have had the Hyperion firmly beneath her feet and under her command right now. “Perhaps you would be good enough to furnish us with a newer set, so we could...” they were into the final row of crates “...avoid... this type of misunderstanding in the future.”
The centurion smiled broadly and tipped her index fingernail under Danann's chin. “Indeed. I'd hate to have to detain you again.”
A shout from her henchmen made her turn around so she missed the mingled look of pride and fury on Niamh's face.
She felt Winston tip her arm in a small show of solidarity. Remarkably, it helped.
She pulled in a lungful of air, unaware that she hadn't breathed in a while.
The centurion pulled at the contents of the most recently opened crate, ripping into bags of biomatter, digging around with no regard for the damage she was doing. Suddenly, she straightened and turned, leaning back on the edge of the crate, a fistful of wet, dilithium crystals in her triumphant hand.
“Smuggling contraband.” she observed, pleased to see a look of defeat crumble across the human Captain's face.
“Consider these forfeit. We're not unreasonable, though, Captain...” She handed the crystals off to one of her men, wiping her wet hand on the fabric at the hem of her jacket. “We'll send you on some... correct star charts, once we've scanned your vessel in full, then will escort you to your side of the divide, Captain.”
Danann pursed her lips and glared at the Romulan woman's empty hand. That was a fortune the crew of the Granuaille could barely afford to lose. She reminded herself it was worth it. “That's very kind.” She managed to say.
“Yes, it is.”
---
“Christ! I thought they'd never fucking leave!” The doctor bellowed gruffly down the comm channel from her med lab. “It's a warzone down here!”
“Get down to the cargo bay, doc. Try to salvage what you can of those plants.” Danann interjected wearily.
---
"Message for you from Starfleet, Captain." Leeson announced as she climbed into her position on the tiny bridge. She shifted, sighed and closed her eyes.
"Set a course for the Selcundi Drema system.”
“What about Zeta Nine?”
“They'll have to wait. We need to detour towards a known dilith' mine.” Danann replied. “No idea who's still watching. Warp whatever you want, engage.”
Leeson nodded. “And the message?”
“Delete it."
She'd wriggled into her pants and pulled her belt high and tight around her waist before she felt the tractor beam grip their hull. Grabbing a loose shirt that had once been white, she wrapped it around her bare chest, fastened it as she opened her door, hastily returned to the room to grab her boots and then bolted to the cargo hold.
“Valdore Class” Winston called from his position on the cargo bay floor as she descended the creaking metal gangplank.
“Same one as last time?” her wild, curling, red hair bobbed and bounced as she hurried down.
“Nope. This one came in hot n heavy.” He barely even blinked at his Captain's dishevelled state. Straight to business. He was a good fit as XO.
“All right...” she cleared her throat, boots still dangling by her side, grasped by the laces. Her small crew paused and looked at her. “This is no different than last time, or the time before that, or the time before that, OK? Keep your calm, remember your manners, and we'll be back on track soon.”
She turned to Winston and spoke softly. “Are the meds stashed?”
He nodded. “Richley has them stowed in the hide-away under the core. We have a max of 55 minutes before the heat starts to degrade it, though. Maybe an hour.”
“Hm.” Danann pulled on a boot as she glanced over at the young Engineer. He was fidgeting. “Calm him down, would ya?” She pulled on the second boot and stood up straight.
“And make sure we've that dilithium hidden, too, but not, you know...too well.”
Winston nodded once, his broad shoulders and thick neck bending too, giving the motion an oddly deferential feel. "Got it."
Danann pulled her hair out of her face and moved to the closest wall comm.
“Leeson, are we dealing with the Republic or the Empire?”
“I'm eh... kinda busy!”
“Dude, the ship is being tractored. It's not like you're having to actively pilot.”
“There's a lot more to this than-”
“Don't try to bullshit me.”
“... They didn't exactly volunteer information, Captain.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but the whining sound of a transporter put an end to the discussion. She'd find out who had detained them soon enough.
Looking around the cargo hold, she saw Richley quivering still, Winston returning to her side. “Rich, Engineering, now.”
Seven Romulans appeared in a shimmering haze in front of a neatly stowed wall of crates.
Seven, Niamh noted. You'd swear we were dangerous...
“Welcome aboard the Granuaille.” She said, stepping forward. “I'm Captain Danann.”
A slender woman in a centurion uniform cast her eyes around the small cargo hold. She then gave Danann a cursory glance. “You are in Romulan Space. Your ship will be impounded, your cargo confiscated, and your crew put to work. Resist, and you will be punished, is that clear?”
Danann forced her shoulders to relax. “I gotta say, normally, I'd go well outta my way to find a woman in uniform willing to order me around, but...” she looked up at Winston to her side and gave him curious look, “but in this case, ma'am I have to protest. This is Federation space.”
Winston nodded.
She continued, “We'd never have ventured into Romulan space deliberately. I mean, look at us. A Type 5 cargo hauler. No shields, minimal weapons, no armour, no escort. Why risk it?” Danann smiled. They couldn't even plump to send a sub-commander. Jeez.
The woman gestured to the cargo, neatly stacked and compartmentalised.
“Search it.” she ordered.
Danann winced. “No, don't...” she found her hands balling into fists and made the effort to release the build up of tension. “The contents are perishable, ma'am. Biological matter in suspended animation, meant for the Zeta Nine colony, can you please not-”
The centurion's henchmen started to pull the lids off each crate, one after the other.
“Stop!” she called out. “I can show you our star charts, you can see exactly where we are headed, where we are now...”
More crates were destroyed.
The centurion glided up to Danann, her dark, pitted eyes finally boring into Danann's face. “This... is not a discussion,” she reminded the red head. “As you say, you have no shields, no armour... you could barely blast a comet out of your path with the pathetic phasers I saw pasted to your hull.” She halted her advance mere inches away from Danann. Niamh could detect a slight floral fragrance from the woman's dark skin. It was distracting and not all together unpleasant. Her head spun with adrenaline.
“This is Romulan space. Say it.”
Danann clenched her teeth.
The centurion took meticulous note of Niamh's wild state of disarray. She smirked at her untied boots. “Say it, station rat.”
Danann's blood beat loudly in her ears and her face prickled with a flush of indignant anger. She heard Winston shift his sizeable weight to the balls of his feet as crates continued to crash to the cargobay floor.
“Say it.”
Niamh forced a smile, “We had no idea our star charts were so out of date.” What she wouldn't have given to have had the Hyperion firmly beneath her feet and under her command right now. “Perhaps you would be good enough to furnish us with a newer set, so we could...” they were into the final row of crates “...avoid... this type of misunderstanding in the future.”
The centurion smiled broadly and tipped her index fingernail under Danann's chin. “Indeed. I'd hate to have to detain you again.”
A shout from her henchmen made her turn around so she missed the mingled look of pride and fury on Niamh's face.
She felt Winston tip her arm in a small show of solidarity. Remarkably, it helped.
She pulled in a lungful of air, unaware that she hadn't breathed in a while.
The centurion pulled at the contents of the most recently opened crate, ripping into bags of biomatter, digging around with no regard for the damage she was doing. Suddenly, she straightened and turned, leaning back on the edge of the crate, a fistful of wet, dilithium crystals in her triumphant hand.
“Smuggling contraband.” she observed, pleased to see a look of defeat crumble across the human Captain's face.
“Consider these forfeit. We're not unreasonable, though, Captain...” She handed the crystals off to one of her men, wiping her wet hand on the fabric at the hem of her jacket. “We'll send you on some... correct star charts, once we've scanned your vessel in full, then will escort you to your side of the divide, Captain.”
Danann pursed her lips and glared at the Romulan woman's empty hand. That was a fortune the crew of the Granuaille could barely afford to lose. She reminded herself it was worth it. “That's very kind.” She managed to say.
“Yes, it is.”
---
“Christ! I thought they'd never fucking leave!” The doctor bellowed gruffly down the comm channel from her med lab. “It's a warzone down here!”
“Get down to the cargo bay, doc. Try to salvage what you can of those plants.” Danann interjected wearily.
---
"Message for you from Starfleet, Captain." Leeson announced as she climbed into her position on the tiny bridge. She shifted, sighed and closed her eyes.
"Set a course for the Selcundi Drema system.”
“What about Zeta Nine?”
“They'll have to wait. We need to detour towards a known dilith' mine.” Danann replied. “No idea who's still watching. Warp whatever you want, engage.”
Leeson nodded. “And the message?”
“Delete it."