Joint Mission Log - LtCmdr Rinehart & Fabla - "Boldly Going Forward 'Cause We Can't Find Reverse!"

Posted on 241407.20 @ 12:54am by Civilian Fabla & Commander Tierney Rinehart

Things had been a whirlwind for Fabla recently. She'd long ago resigned to the fact that there was no way out of the slavery her people had left her in, and yet here she was a free woman with a job. She was working for Starfleet because of a Ferengi businessman. Well, she was working for the Ferengi, but also working for Starfleet. She didn't have a contract with the Ferengi, so there was room to interpret that, which was a little odd for a Ferengi. Fabla wasn't too concerned though, for now she was safe, had a room of her own, and the clothing on her back actually belonged to her. She'd forgotten what that was like.

The Starfleet officer she was told she was working for was a red-headed human woman, a Lieutenant Commander Tierney Rinehart. The Ferengi, Nug, had taken a special interest in her, as unlike most Ferengi, he fudged the lines of his contract with her and not specifically in his own favor. Fabla and her crew mates weren't part of the contract, they'd been a surprise. He'd presented them as a financially efficient alternative to hiring a temporary crew for delivery, but in reality, he'd wanted someone to keep an eye on Tierney's side of the contract. As far as she knew, Fabla was the only one he'd approached about keeping an eye on Miss Rinehart, but she wouldn't put it past him to have asked another one of the former slaves to keep an eye on either Tierney, or even Fabla herself.

After a visual sweep over the helm controls, Fabla turned to regard her new boss.

"When are we to speak of terms for employment?" she asked, leaning on the back of her chair as she considered the officer who sat in the captain's chair.

The petite woman was dwarfed by the chair she sat curled up in. Tierney had folded her coltish long legs up underneath herself for the long trip home, even her fingers had been tucked into the sleeves of the long shirt she'd chosen to replicate for ultimate comfort -- the voice of the green woman, however, failed to come as a surprise. She'd been waiting for the conversation to start, even going so far as to placing bets with herself against who would be the first to step forward and ask about the payment schedule. She sighed lightly, not bothering to uncurl from the warm little cocoon she'd created for herself.

"Now, if it strikes your fancy." She replied.

"I cannot speak for the others, but compared to my recent situation, I am already doing well for myself," Fabla opened cautiously. "Nug spoke of piracy being the intent of this vessel though, which brings with it some degree of danger. I know the Starfleet has a reputation for operating without currency, so I would like to know what you do have to offer."

"I can offer a roof over heads and honest work plus ten percent split between the crew of whatever proceeds come our way from selling goods through the Ferengi. If that doesn't cut it for you all, then I'll find you safe passage anywhere you want to go." A proverbial coin had been tossed by the tired star-child. It hung, spinning, above their heads as the offer weaseled its way through the crews' collective cerebral cortex and Tierney quietly waited for answer. Nearly two points per crew member was a hefty bounty.

Fabla chewed her lip, looking at the other four former slaves at various stations around the bridge, the only one of which she'd come to know was Tygelgor the Nausicaan. The other three had mostly kept to themselves so far, and the sixth in their group was down in the engine room which he only left to eat and sleep; a tellarite named Nadik that Fabla had never managed to do anything but argue with. If Tygelgor was to be believed, that meant Nadik liked her but she sure couldn't tell. Fabla met eyes with Tygelgor, and he shrugged. One and two-thirds percent wasn't bad, and the share would increase if anyone else took Miss Rinehart up on the offer of safe transport... though it could go back down again depending on if there was need to hire someone else to replace whoever left.

"Would we be answering to you, or is there some other Fleetie above you? That admiral you spoke with?" Fabla wasn't particular. The deal was enough for her needs and she'd have a little coming in from Nug from each report she sent back, though he hadn't specified how much.

The tiny star-child's head finally lifted from it's position against the chair back, "To me." She stated, tapping on her lower lip. "The Enterprise is the home ship, and she does have a Captain -- but we're under orders by the Admiral and that discretion is left to me."

"Agreeable to me," Fabla returned, looking to Tygelgor as she did. He grunted and she grinned. "You are keeping your muscle too," she added, nodding toward the Nausicaan. She glanced at the other three. "I suspect you will not be free of Nadik if you try, he seems to have bonded with the engines or mated with them. You can never be sure with his kind."

"Anywhere?" A human man spoke up, turning from the sensor console to look at Tierney.

"Good. I'm glad that you're willing to stay on for the long haul. I'll see about getting Nadik a healthy supply of tissues or something." A smile that had begun to paint itself across Tierney's pretty face began to fade just as slowly as it began. "Anywhere. You have my word."

"Earth," the man said, then turned his attention back to his console. Fabla arched an eyebrow at him, considering. He'd been quiet since the slave market Nug had selected them all out of, and the only thing Fabla had gotten out of him was to call him Johnny, even though the auctioneer had called him Sue Underwood.

A small nod came from the Commander, "Earth it is, then." The idea of one of them leaving didn't have the impact of sadness that perhaps it should have, instead it left Tierney feeling fulfilled. She wondered, for a spare moment, if they felt what her mother had felt during her moment of liberation.

From another console, a Cardassian looked up, well, not exactly a Cardassian. The ridges a little softer, the nose wrinkled, and the skin with a hint of peach to it... he had to have something else mixed in. He considered Tierney for a long moment, before giving a little nod.

"You will likely benefit from the languages I speak, and I have no one else. I will stay," he stated.

"You're more than welcome here. Thank you." The spirited young woman smiled and nodded her appreciation. It would never cease to amaze her how one split second could change lives for the better or for the worst. Whatever Nug's intentions truly were, they'd given freedom and hope to people who once had none to call their own -- the thought warmed the cockles of Tierney's heart and left her feeling far more comfortable than she had been during the moments of awkward silence preceding Fabla's question. To the Orion, her attention drifted, "Welcome aboard." She offered to them all. May the Gods save their souls.

"Even me?" the last of the crew spoke up. She looked to be Trill, though her spots were a little faded and her eyes a little dark. She was hunched over a console, but she didn't seem be actively engaged with it. She didn't look up at Tierney as she spoke. "I mean, if you think I can be a help... But I don't know what good I'll be."

Fabla tried to remember what Nug had said this woman did, something involving medicine? She'd mostly hung around, moved things when asked, and generally stayed out of the way.

Looking over the chair back, Tierney's eyes strained to focus on the woman huddled up at the controls. She blinked at the question, stunned by how meek the voice was. "Absolutely." She nodded in affirmation. "The Figaro is your home for as long as you like. No one is bound to servitude. I'll see to it that the Enterprise honors this."

Just call her Lady Liberty, here Nug had given her the tired, the weak and the poor -- she'd turned them into pirates.

=/\= END LOG =/\=

Lieutenant Commander Tierney Rinehart
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS ENTERPRISE

Fabla
Civilian Pilot
The Freighter Figaro