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Author Topic: "Stowaway"  (Read 6011 times)
TVala
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« on: 03 08, 2005, 05:28: AM »

(Moderator's note: This story continues from the discussion in the Stowaway... thread.)

originally posted by TVala on 11-27-2002 at 05:41 PM


part of the story.

Oaky, here are two versions of roughly the same concept. This is the one that got me hollered at...

Jerre stirred as she woke a little, her gaze quickly adjusting to the dark of the crate she lay in. She had managed to get herself this far on the credits she had saved from the muggers, but had not been able to afford a room on deep space nine. She froze as she heard voices form outside. She waited as one of them grumbled in a foreign language, and the crate she was in began to move. She tried to sit up and felt darkness creep in the edges of her vision. She collapsed against the crate and surrendered to the darkness. She did not feel the transport beam carry her over to the vessel that waited. Nor did she stir as the crates were moved into place.

Jerre woke up groggily a few days later. She sat up and poked her head out of the crate. She squeaked in terror as she yanked it back in. Not only had she seen someone, but also she would bet her last credits they were not human. She peeked out again. Klingons! She slid back in with a thud as her body refused to respond to her commands.

Three turned and walked over to her crate. She shook as she tried to hide. Running or fighting was not an option. A few minutes passed. She felt someone prod the box with a booted foot, say something, and then it was upended. She fell out head first, and instinctively curled up into a ball, waiting for the first blow to land. Instead none fell.

A female voice spoke to her in perfect English.  "Unfold Terran.  I want to see you."

She slowly did as she was told. When she looked up, she saw a female Klingon with intelligent hazel eyes and a presence that said 'command'. She appraised her coolly and helped her up. "Terran, how did you get here?"


She slowly did as she was told. When she looked up, she saw a female Klingon with intelligent hazel eyes and a presence that said 'command'. She appraised her coolly and helped her up. "Terran, how did you get here?"

"I don't know. I was lying' in the crate and when I woke I was here." She gulped and felt anger rise. She squelched it. She would not lose control now. This Klingon held her fate in her hands. "I didn't mean to get here." The woman eyed her for a moment. She let her gaze slide over the Terran who had trespassed on her ship and frowned. Bruises and cuts marred her face and all body parts that showed. She was thin, well muscled and her eyes showed an anger that made her frown. Her clothes were rags and her shoes falling apart. Her hair fell in her face, and she tossed it back.

"What is your name?"

"Jerre ma'am."

"Your age?"

"Fifteen."

"Follow me. You are going to sickbay." Jerre followed her warily. The pace the woman set was slow, one she would have easily matched a few months ago. Now it was all she could do to keep up. The woman stopped and waited as Jerre caught up. She moved off again after a few moments. She hit sickbay and waited before she entered.

"Doctor. We found a stowaway. Examine her and fix her injuries." The woman sat and waited.

The Klingon waited as the girl's internal injuries were healed, wondering why some of them were so old. She got up as the doc gave her some painkillers. "Can you walk?"

"Yes." The Terran got up. She shook for a moment, and stepped forward.

"I will not kill you. What I will do with you I do not know yet. Do you have any skills?"

"I can organize things, clean, cook, repair almost anything if you ask my uncle, and I learn quick. What is your name?"

"K'Rel. Captain K'Rel."

"Captain?"

"Yes. One of the only females in command."


"Cool." K'Rel smiled and relaxed.

"You know, I could use an assistant. I could teach you as we go." K'Rel said. She hadn't seen much of the Terran yet, but she had liked what she had seen so far. She had to be blind not to see the intensity and drive in her steady gaze. The Terran mulled it over, and nodded. "Good. Now what does the sweatshirt say?"

"It says 'if you have guts, shoot'll do for brains.' It's kind of a motto. I usually train in it."

"For what?"

"Triathlons. It's a cool sport. You swim a mile, bike fifty, and run half a marathon, roughly thirteen miles. If you train like someone possessed you get better. If you don't, you don't. And you do this all for your self, no hiding behind someone else. It's not the young people who win either, but it's the people your age, the people with patience, persistence. I wanted to compete in the Ironman some day. They double everything, so you run 26 miles, bike 100, and swim two."

K'Rel grinned. That sounded like something a Klingon would think of. "Sounds like you like that idea."

"I do." She nodded and entered a door.

"Jerre, you will be sleeping in here. Now tell me, why did you run away from home?" Jerre froze and carefully sat on the couch.

"You knew I would ask." K'Rel pointed out. She saw the Terran nod. She frowned, thought of the Terran's hesitation to answer, her instantly shielding her self when she had been found, her bruises, the terror in her eyes in those first momentsŠShe swore.

"It was not my parents, ma'am. They gave me to the orphanage when I was three. I was told that they were both big drug users. Even then, I was angry at the world. The only way I could keep it under control was through athletics. Couple years ago my control started slipping. That was when I took up the triathlon thing. It helped for a while. But not enough. I got to where they would stick me in solitary for weeks at a time, thinking it would break my rage. It didn't. I continued downhill. There was no one I wouldn't sass, or challenge. There was no butt I wouldn't try and kick. The only days I was even close too manageable by anyone was on a day where I had trained for at least three hours. Then I was simply to exhausted to fight them much."

K'rel looked at her. She had caught a glimpse of the anger the Terran described. She frowned. "Will you accept my help in getting it under control?"

"What kind of help?"

"Relax. I won't hit you or lock you in your room. You had the right idea, though. For now, I will teach you some of the fighting arts. You will learn some of our martial arts, and use of the bat'leth. Also, I will help you as best I can to let what was done to you slide."

"Yes." K'Rel relaxed. She had seen what anger could turn you into. It was a good thing that the Terran had accepted her help. She looked her over, and smiled. Apparently, the sleeping enhancers the doctor had given her had worked faster than anyone had thought. That would have to wait. She gently picked up the sleeping Terran and laid her out properly. She looked around, found a cloak, and spread it over her.

"Ma'am?" She saw Jerre stir and wrap a hand around hers. K'Rel smiled and laid a palm on her cheek.

"Shhhh. You were given mild painkillers. They are knocking you out. Don't fight them. Sleep, Jerre. I am here. No harm will come to you."

K'Rel felt her smile as she nodded, and slipped into sleep. She turned to the Terran's bag and began rearranging her quarters. She obtained a shelf, some blankets, and after a moment's thought, she dug out a few long loose shirts. Once the Terran woke, she would see about getting her different clothes. She spread the blankets on the floor and set the bag on the floor by her bed. She went ahead on hung a curtain, closing off the corner from view. She looked around, frowning. The girl would need somewhere to put her clothesŠMaybe in with hers?

That would have to do for a bit. She sat at her desk and got to work on the paperwork that lay waiting on her desk. As she did she thought on the Terran. She was tough, yet vulnerable and needing protection at the same time. She would have to get her measurements for clothes, and maybe even armor later on down the road. A low cry had her turning around and looking for the Terran. She was asleep. K'Rel turned around, jolting as she heard another cry. She hesitated, undecided, and walked over to her side. "Jerre, wake up. You are dreaming. Wake up. Wake up." She felt the girl jolt, and sit up. Residual fear showed in her gaze, and faded slightly when she relaxed. K'Rel walked over and got her a cup of fruit juice. She gave it to the Terran. "Drink. It is fruit juice."

"Thanks." She wrapped both hands around the mug, waited as her grip steadied and took a drink. The cool liquid slid down her throat, making her stop and smile, softly relaxing. She waited, took another sip and relaxed the rest of the way. K'Rel watched her. Jerre looked up and K'Rel fought a snarl of anger as she saw most of the tension return. Jerre met her gaze, dropped her eyes, and cautiously scooted a little closer. She set the drink down, and visibly gathered her courage. She cautiously shifted and wrapped both arms around K'Rel, hugged her, and let go. K'Rel looked at her, touched by the gesture and the apology in the girl's eyes.

She smiled. "You are not afraid of me."

"No. I probably should be, but I have good instincts about people. I hope that extends to Klingons." Jerre smiled up at her. K'Rel moved and gave her a hug, feeling her stiffen and relax, returning the hug and letting her head fall onto K'Rel's chest.

"You will be up for a bit?"

"Yes."

"I prepared you a section of my quarters. Would you like to move in?"

"Yes." Jerre got up and followed K'Rel. She froze when she saw the area K'Rel had prepared. "Thanks." She said softly, reverently. She saw her bag and knelt to open it. "If you want we can unpack together." K'Rel smiled and nodded, sitting on the floor.
« Last Edit: 03 08, 2005, 06:01: AM by TVala » Logged

Someday I must read this scholar Everyone...He seems to have written so much -- all of it wrong.

- Veralidaine Sarrasri, The Immortals, Tamora Pierce, 1997
TVala
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Posts: 32


« Reply #1 on: 03 08, 2005, 06:39: AM »

originally posted on 11-27-2002 at 05:49 PM

And here is the one you all are helping me with...Let me know if you see any major errors.

Jerre stirred as she woke a little, her gaze quickly adjusting to the dark of the crate she lay in. She had managed to get herself this far on the credits she had saved from the muggers, but had not been able to afford a room on deep space nine. She froze as she heard voices form outside. She waited as one of them grumbled in a foreign language, and the crate she was in began to move. She tried to sit up and felt darkness creep in the edges of her vision. She collapsed against the crate and surrendered to the darkness. She did not feel the transport beam carry her over to the vessel that waited. Nor did she stir as the crates were moved into place.

Jerre woke up groggily a few days later. She sat up and poked her head out of the crate. She squeaked in terror as she yanked it back in. Not only had she seen someone, but also she would bet her last credits they were not human. She peeked out again. Klingons! She slid back in with a thud as her body refused to respond to her commands.

Three turned and walked over to her crate. She shook as she tried to hide. Running or fighting was not an option. A few minutes passed. She felt someone prod the box with a booted foot, say something, and then it was upended. She fell out head first, and instinctively curled up into a ball, waiting for the first blow to land. Instead none fell.

A female voice spoke to her in perfect English. “Unfold Terran. I want to see you.”

Jerre did so, slowly. She sat up, and stood, a small tremor racing through her whole body. She looked the voice’s owner in the eye, her gaze proud and defiant. One of her legs gave, and she lurched to one side, fighting back a cry and fighting for her balance. She wobbled and stayed on her feet. The woman looked at her. “Terran, you are now a prisoner of the Klingon Empire. You will be escorted to the brig and interrogated later.” Three Klingons stepped forward, one stepping behind her, and the other two grabbing her by the arms.

She struggled, futilely but with all her strength. Finally her muscles relaxed, and she followed without further fuss. The pair of Klingons escorted their prisoner to a room just off a small room with a table in it. The room was small, about seven by seven feet. At one end in the far left hand corner, stood a toilet with a spigot next to it. In the other corner sat a five foot long bench, made of heavy titanium and bolted to the floor.

Their prisoner froze upon seeing the unit and tried to pull away. Their grip tightened and they shoved her in. She fell heavily to the ground and got shakily to her feet. She turned just in time to see a solid red field spring into place.

She didn't see one of the guards, the female settle outside to watch her. The guard could see her and all her actions, but the Terran saw and heard nothing of what was happening outside her cell. She looked around wildly, curling up on the corner of the bench, shivering slightly in the cold.

The guard frowned at her cell. The girl had fallen asleep an hour earlier and was being quiet. If she wanted to look her over, now was the time. She walked over to the cell and deactivated the forcefield. She gently, aware of how fragile humans were, slid a hand under her head, and turned her face to her. Asleep, the bruises and gashes on her young face were thrown into sharp relief. The guard quickly ran her hands over the Terran’s body, counting broken bones,and the visible bruises. She noted her thiness and frowned. The girl would never survive interrogation.
Logged

Someday I must read this scholar Everyone...He seems to have written so much -- all of it wrong.

- Veralidaine Sarrasri, The Immortals, Tamora Pierce, 1997
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