[JP] Marshall & Sienelis - Together, They Run (Part VII)
Jo Marshall
((Lena's Shuttle))
::Bear looked up at the roof, following the jagged and straight edges of the Klingon ship around to the point above the helm controls. Realising it was the first time he'd seen the inside of a Klingon shuttle, it looked exactly how he expected it to, with some notable additions that were clearly the hybrid stamping her mark.
::Several questions lurched forward in quick succession, given room to breathe without impending doom waiting for a chance to dig the knife in, but the only one that seemed important made his eyes drop down to Lena.::
O. Marshall: Where are you taking us?
Josett: The Labyrinth's Scream. Heard of it?
O. Marshall: It sounds pleasant.
Josett: It's some reference to an Andorian afterlife. ::She answered with a lazy smile, and shrugged.:: And a pirate ship. Apparently it has a little something your admiral wants — something stolen from your own ship a while back?
::There was a sharp creak from Valesha's chair as she shifted, or maybe startled at the words. To his credit, it took at least a few seconds before the colour drained from his face and his grin dipped off the edge of the horizon. The smouldering wreckage remaining after the theft in the Computer Lab, Lladre's attack on their ship, the crew's sudden lapse into unconsciousness, and his willful ignorance that his failure to procure that had led, in some part, to this.
::A lonely thought wandered through his head, tripping over the rest of it, if the Admiral would have been half as concerned, or half as interested, if this hadn't been the end goal? He cleared his throat, dashing the expression off his face, not daring to look back at Valesha, but when he spoke, his voice held an audible crack.::
O. Marshall: Is that so?
Josett: So I've been— ::Something caught her eye on the helm console and she leaned forward to make a course correction, the shuttle jolting to the side.:: —told. The Scream's heading for port at Nassau, my guess is Captain Thertas will be dropping the goods off to one of his bosses then.
O. Marshall: We're hardly in a position to pick it up. ::He tilted his head as a thought beat around.:: Unless the Admiral's expecting us to hitchhike back for the Unicorn.
Josett: I think the Admiral's expecting you to improvise. ::She chuckled.:: You don't actually expect your shuttle to be there when you get back, do you?
::He tongued his cheek, exhaling an amused laugh of the so very damned. Glancing over his shoulder at the quiet Romulan sitting behind, his eyebrow cocked.::
O. Marshall: You can tell MacFarlane. You're quicker than me.
::Valesha looked back at him, rubbing her jaw as though that future was echoing through it. While she *knew* that MacFarlane would likely be upset about her shuttle, she didn't really understand it. It was a thing, and a thing that could be rebuilt, no less. A machine with a documented construction, not a unique, irreplaceable work of art, nor a loved one who'd passed on.::
Sienelis: Sounds good to me. Means she'll catch you first.
O. Marshall: Huh. ::He scratched his chin. Smarter than him too. A swift change of subject required.:: ETA to Nassau? I'm assuming you've been there before.
Josett: Depends how fast the captain wants to take the Corridor. ::She pointed up, waving her finger in a lazy circle.:: Little ships like this can fly straight through the plasma fields, but the big ones attract the storms. Safest route for them is the Kamarov Corridor, and the slower you go, the safer it is. You might have a couple of weeks, you might have a couple of days.
Sienelis: How exactly are you getting us on board?
Josett: I'm going to be your Witness. So don't get caught, else they'll kill me along with you.
::Feeling noticeably absent from his kneecaps, Bear stood up, reaching his arms up to lean against the groove in the roof. Eyeing the hybrid carefully for a breath — dark curls, amber eyes, muted Cardassian ridges, prominent Bajoran nose — he then narrowed them, as though trying to work out some deep seated puzzle. Hardly a fearsome pirate; pretty, laughs, smiles, and an ever present tick of a grin waiting to break out.::
O. Marshall: Luckily for both of you, I'm impeccably charming.
::Valesha eyed him, then breathed a soft snort.::
Sienelis: I don't think that word means what you think it means.
::Lena, on the other hand, grinned in amusement, light dancing in her eyes as she looked right back at Bear. Breaking her gaze away, she gestured toward the cabin, the light catching calloused skin around her knuckles.::
Josett: Well, my spoons, there's a couple of pull-out bunks back there. If you want to get the shut-eye your Romulan friends stole away.
::As if the words prompted a reminder for his body, Bear felt the weariness of seeping adrenaline out of tired muscles. If Lena was going to kill them, she'd had plenty of chances so far. Still, a phaser under the pillow seemed like a good backup plan.::
O. Marshall: I'd say I'd sleep when I'm dead, but that might be sooner rather than later. ::He dropped one hand from the leaning post and rubbed it through his hair.:: Sleep it is.
::The Romulan stared blankly at her console for a short while, the false energy of flight-or-flight stealing more than it had given once the chaos had quieted, then drew in a sharp breath and blinked hard. Since being arrested, it felt as though she hadn't stopped, stumbling from one disaster to the next while unseen forces tugged at her strings. Time had lost some of its meaning, and life on the Gorkon felt more like a dream than a memory. Less real than even the Skarbek, especially given her current circumstances. Running a hand over her face, rubbing her eyes, she hauled herself to her feet and nodded in fatigued agreement.::
Sienelis: Sleep.
::And with that, she walked leaden-footed out of the cockpit and into the small cabin. It took a minute or so of tired squinting at the walls until she found the controls, and she prodded the small panel with a careless touch. A pair of narrow bunks slid out from the wall, the thin mattresses and tiny pillows looking barely more comfortable than sleeping on the floor. Klingons. It drew another sigh out of Valesha, and she dropped herself onto the bottom bunk without a word. Bear followed a few steps behind, and leaned his shoulder on the doorframe.::
O. Marshall: No, you don't. ::Pointing a finger to the top.:: Up you go.
Sienelis: Too tired. Can't move.
::His eyebrows flicked upwards before he stepped inside, hooked a swift arm under her knees and picked up her, chucking her up onto the top bunk with a roll off his forearms. Her huffed protest was more out of obligation to herself than annoyance, and she flopped back on the top bunk while muttering under her breath in her first language.::
O. Marshall: Safety in elevation. ::He went to duck underneath before standing back up, fresh thought on his mind.:: Keep that phaser on you.
Sienelis: I did last time. ::She rolled her head toward him, raising her eyebrows. It sparked something in her tired brain, of Marshall saying something when he stumbled back from the bar.:: What was it we needed to do?
::Momentarily thrown, he frowned before it sparked a sliver of memory. The downward curve on his expression softened, the heart of courageous spirits long since dried up. Patting her bunk with the flat of his hand, he then shifted her pillow gently from side to side underneath her head.::
O. Marshall: It doesn't matter. Something about you snoring. ::Glancing up to jade eyes, he exhaled a little too sharply.:: Get some sleep.
Sienelis: Liar. ::She looked back at him for the length of an exhale, then shifted onto her side, slipping the phaser from its holster and tucking her hand under the meagre pillow. She closed her eyes, and grumbled.:: If you snore I'm suffocating you with your pillow.
O. Marshall: Do it, short stuff. ::He sat down on the bottom bunk, rubbing his eye sockets.:: Humans make great fertiliser.
::Her mumbled answer drifted down from the top bunk, thick with exhaustion.::
Sienelis: That is what all good little Romulans are taught.
::Bear shook his head at the fatigue etching lines into her response, a tired wry grin curving up the corner of his mouth. The last word was hers. A hard won victory after a night of misery. He pulled off his boots one by one, setting them neatly on the floor, then lay back and stared up at the underside of the top bunk with an almost eased exhale…
::...and slowly slipped his phaser under his pillow.::
fin...
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Orson Marshall
Fugitive
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&
Fugitive
T238401QR0
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Scallywag
Orion Syndicate