Joint Personal Log - Chief Intel & Civie Pilot - LtCmdr Rinehart & Fabla - "Living in a Material World"

Posted on 241407.25 @ 1:13pm by Commander Tierney Rinehart & Civilian Fabla

The Bazaar was ripe with sound and scents, the hustle and bustle of organized chaos immediately sought to excite and confuse each and every sense. It tickled Tierney's fancy and keyed up her anxiety all at the same time as she strolled through the various merchants with the Figaro crew close at hand. In the recent days, they'd become tighter, a family, knowing they all shared common roots and common flaws. A member of the Enterprise crew had commented that they were not unlike the misfit toys in the old Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer diddy of many centuries past — and the Tellarite had snorted, rolled his eyes, and marched off away from the hurt. Tierney had chosen to ignore it all together, waving off the complaint and encouraging her friend to consider the source. "People hate what they don't understand," she'd said, "and they don't understand us or why we're here. The greater lot of them wish the Captain would either kill me or maroon me." And the conversation was over.

The tiny Starchild stopped at a booth offering glass beaded jewelry. Hand-blown from special material, the woman said with a smile as she gestured to her goods. "Absolutely beautiful." Tierney mused, looking to Fabla, "Like galaxies caught in a globe."

"Like the bottles of alcohol and the drinks of Shakers," Fabla returned, moving closer to inspect the candy colored baubles. Tygelgor stayed at the heels of her and Tierney, even as he kept a watchful eye over the rest of group. Fabla patted herself down as she leaned forward to look closer at one featuring a pink and purple sparkle cluster in the middle of a translucent black, hanging from a platinum chain. "How much?" she asked, eyes not moving from the bead that was the feature of the necklace.

"For you?" The merchant considered for a moment, looking between the strange collection of races before her. One appeared to be Starfleet, and, by deduction, that meant the rest were. "No charge." She smiled, "It'll go nice with your skin tone, very flashy. No charge."

Tierney grinned wildly, nodding appreciatively at Fabla, "looks like it's your lucky day."

"Oh no, I could not just take it," Fabla protested. "Glass work takes so much work." Fabla's eyes darted around the wares, spotting earrings that matched. "At least let me pay for the matching earrings." She finally found the pocket containing her slips of gold pressed latinum, and pulled some out, holding them out to the woman.

"Fine. Fine. You pay for earrings, but the necklace? Yours as a gift." The woman adjusted her glasses that could have been made from the bottoms of old school coke bottles given their thickness. She plucked two slips from Fabla and shooed her hand away before ferreting the money away in a force field protected box. "And for you?" she looked to Tierney then back at her wares, scanning them with a bony fingers tapping at her chin. "Blue, like your eyes." The little mole of a woman gestured to a black lace choker that harnessed a round bead. It looked like opal exploded within a nebula.

Tierney was instantly drawn to it, lifting it from the black velvet tray that held it captive. "I'll take it, but only if you take money for it. These are hard times, you can't just be giving away your goods." She said, running her thumb over the piece appreciatively, against her fair skin the color was even more striking.

With a sigh, the mole-woman held out her hand "Ok. Three pieces, four and you take earrings too that way you have set like your friend."

"Done." The Commander was quick to pass over the latinum and remove the coordinating earrings, thrilled to pieces with her first finds at the bazaar.

Fabla smiled wide, putting the necklace on right away as she murmured a thank you. She fiddled to put the earrings on as she turned to show Tygelgor, who just grunted his approval. Fabla's eyes fell on a stall across the way with clothing in a rainbow of colors, flowing, shimmery, and ethereal. It seemed calculated that it was across from this particular jewelry stall, but even as this occurred to Fabla, she was laying a hand on Tierney's arm. "Oh look, your Captain friend would like to see you in one of those, would he not?"

Turning quickly, the petite redhead nearly blushed crimson, "No. No he probably wouldn't." She managed to catch herself from stumbling over her words. The clothing, beautiful and delicate, caught her eye, though — begging to be touched and worn. Idly she did wonder if Rhodes would approve, if he'd notice or if that was simply taking what may, as of yet, still be a ploy to garner information, too far. "He's the Captain, I'm the Intel officer everyone loves to hate, remember?" Her eyes flashed from the Nausicaan to the Orion and back, waiting for their response.

A deep rumbling laugh came from Tygelgor over Tierney's quick denial and he muttered something in Orion that the universal translator in Tierney's combadge almost didn't catch to translate. What it did manage involved matching hair color. Fabla clicked her tongue at him, and he straightened up to stand tall above her.

"It is her choice to be in denial of it," Fabla returned in her mother tongue, and this the universal translator was able to decipher with no trouble. She smiled at Tierney, switching back to Federation standard. "We should still look. The blue one on display matches your new necklace and your eyes."

"It's just business!" The tiny one chirped at the both of them as they conspired in Orion, her combadge translating along with them. "In what world would a Captain ever truly want his Intel officer? Especially one his crew wants dead." She lodged, folding her arms and, once again, looking between the other two crew members before sighing, "You don't think it's too much blue?" Damn it, she thought to herself, finding her eyes drifting to the blue sun dress with all of it's lace and iridescent feminine beauty.

"Desire does not listen to such things as logic," Fabla insisted, strolling towards the clothing booth. She had latinum for the first time in a very long time, and she wanted to splurge. "My first owner, he fell in love with one of his slaves, got her with child... then his father made him sell her and their child off when he expressed desire to free her and marry her. Such sadness." Fabla approached a strapless dress that faded from black to lavender, dancing through a dark rich violet on the way. She held her green arm in front of it and considered the colors together.

The Commander shook her head as she watched Fabla experiment with color. Purple and green just seemed to be a perpetually perfect match. "That is a sad story, but goes to show you that illogical love does not work." She replied, letting her fingers finally reach out to soothe along the blue fabric of the dress Fabla had pointed out, she looked up towards the Nausicaan who stood close watch, "And who says it's love at all?"

"It does not need to be love," Fabla pointed out. She picked the dress up and held it in front of herself, spinning around so that Tierney and Tygelgor could see. "Sometimes all you need is something for right now." She glanced around for a mirror.

"I don't do right nows." The little woman nodded appreciatively at the dress the Orion had chosen, "I don't believe in them. Maybe that's why I've never had anyone to call my own." Her nose twitched as she took the shimmering near navy fabric from the rack and studied it closer. She'd never worn such finery, and this piece had a sweetheart neckline -- a style she'd avoided in favor of hiding behind uniforms and tomboyish threads to help keep attention off her and more on the tasks at hand. Mark threatened to change all that.

Fabla moved closer to the star child, leaning close to whisper. "I do not think that he would be a right now, especially not with that dress." Fabla winked, and looked up at Tygelgor as he stood at the edge of the stall. "Blue is her color, is it not?" She directed this question to the Nausicaan in Orion. He nodded, and Fabla shook her head. "You can speak to her, she will understand you with her translator pin," she admonished him. He grumbled, and made a point to turn to look where the others had gone.

Blushing, Tierney shook her head again and shuffled towards the shop keep, "I have my reservations, Fabla, I'm afraid it isn't genuine, that he's interested in knowledge only and is using emotion to be sure he gets what he wants." Latinum was passed between her hand and the merchant, officially earning her the beautiful dress. "We'll catch up with them in a second. I promise, like that promise I made about not biting."

Fabla looked around, and spotted Nadik a few stalls away looking at tools. "I am not in a hurry to catch up, it looks like Nadik has found himself someone to argue with," she said, pursing her lips as she observed the Tellarite's interactions with the merchant in the tool stall. She pulled out latinum to exchange for the dress, complementing the merchant on the selection as the money changed hands.

"Has he done something specific to make you doubt his intentions?" Fabla asked, as she looked to see where Tallen was, and the Trill woman... trill and something else, Fabla mused. She still hadn't figured it out, but the woman was quiet and elusive. She spotted Tallen at a book seller between where they were, and where Nadik was arguing about tools. The Trill stood awkwardly in the middle of the aisle near Tallen.

"On second thought... I think you're right about waiting to play catch up." Said Tierney, watching the Tellarite haggle with the best of them, she knew he wouldn't push far enough to endanger breaking the laws surrounding aggression on the station. She'd passed that information on with gusto, carefully stressing what had been shared in briefing.

Fabla quickly caught her attention again, "Threatened to kill me if I showed the slightest sign of switching sides or being a turncoat." She shrugged, "I get that he's the Captain and that these are desperate times, but less than a day later we were slow dancing to Frank Sinatra." Tierney sighed as they slowly walked along the stalls, "The night we arrived back at the ship? I spent the night and he let himself fall asleep in my arms. His crew wonder, but if they knew without a doubt they'd either lynch him or buy him a beer, no gray areas."

"Perhaps he himself is unsure what he wants?" Fabla suggested, frowning softly. "I would be cautious, but he has a gentle face." She moved towards the bookseller and Tallen. Tallen held a large tome with Klingon script, and old Earth English, featuring the name Shakespeare along the spine.

Tallen looked up from his finds to wave meekly at the trio approaching him. Tierney was quick to wave back, "He seems to have a gentle soul to go along with it." she mused, brushing a stray lock of hair back behind an ear, "So much of me wants to trust him, but I'm scared. Falling and landing short would be harder on much more than just the knees at this point. Scarlet says I should just drop it and avoid it like the plague."

The lightly spotted Trill cross, of some sort, looked up and blinked at them. "If you're talking about love and matters of the heart, Fabla would definitely be the one to talk to. She's Orion." She shrugged awkwardly, "I don't do romance outside of stories."

"Nonsense, what do Orions know of love? My people are savages who manipulate men with their pheromones," Fabla dismissed, and picked up a random book to all but bury her nose in.

"You know more about it all then I do. Isn't the art of being a good concubine surrounding making men feel like they're the only one and oh so special?" The Trill-bred countered, thumbing through an old book of treasure stories. "Besides, Tierney is supposed to be a spy, like James Bond. He was suave and smooth. You should have no problem." A nose twitched as dust flew up from beneath a discarded book hitting the pile.

Tierney's own nose crinkled and her head shook. "I'm not like your James Bond character and watch who you advertise that to. I, for one, choose life today." She hushed at the woman who rolled her eyes. "Even if I was, I don't just want a tryst with him." She said much softer, turning to lean against the table and looked up at Tygelgor's looming presence.

"There is a difference between stroking an ego, and manipulating someone to walk into his own financial ruin and servitude," Fabla snapped at the Trill mix. Tygelgor met Tierney's gaze for a moment, then looked to Fabla with concern before returning his gaze to Tierney.

Offering Tygelgor a smile, Tierney reached to run her fingers through her hair, taking it down from the messy knot that held it up. "Enough. We're not doing either, none of us." Tying her hair back into yet another messy knot, this one higher, she turned her attention back to the Nausicaan. He seemed the most sensible out of the entire lot.

Tygelgor offered Tierney a smile in return, twisting his face into something that anything other than a Nausicaan would call terrifying. He certainly appreciated the effort to break up the tiff. Fabla shook her head, returning the book in her hand to the stacks, then walked toward Nadik. Arguing with him held more appeal than trying to explain reason to the spotted woman.

As horrifying as it was to watch a Nausicaan smile, it warmed the cockles of Tierney's heart. She was getting through to him, maybe. Next step? Conversation, even though he seemed to be a man of very few words. The Trill shooed them off, knowing they would linger close and with ease they crossed the busy row, Tierney nearly being swept away by the current of moving people, to stand with Nadik and Fabla. "So... We know who not to chat with about anything even remotely resembling girl talk." Offered the little Commander.

Tierney's comment lifted the frown off Fabla's face, a slight turn of her lip indicating an improvement to her mood again. Nadik was so involved in his negotiations, he didn't notice the others approach. What Fabla couldn't understand is that each time Nadik seemed to approach what he was seeking in the negotiation, his goals changed. It was almost as if he wasn't after the hyper spanner but instead the interaction of the acquisition. The merchant was starting to get weary and his resistance to the ever changing goal was starting to wear him down. He looked to the new comers with an almost pleading in his eyes to save him from the Tellarite.

"Nadik," Tierney started, softly, leaning across the merchant's table on a spot where nothing sat, "I think you're getting the better end of the deal. There's more out there and we don't have a lot of time. Wouldn't you like to see more?" She asked, tilting her head ever so slightly. Her eyes flitted between him and the merchant's lining the row in endless, undulating layers. "Think about it. So much more to experience, more haggling to be won."

He opened his mouth to protest, then looked up at Tygelgor looming behind Tierney. He frowned and grumbled as he paid the merchant, over paying a generous amount, then shoved the hyper spanner into one of the many pockets on his coveralls like he didn't even want it. "But he was a fine arguer, I was enjoying that," he muttered, walking off with his head hung.

"There will be more!" Tierney called out after him, waving him off with a grin and nodding to the merchant as she shoved away from the display and continued trundling along.

Fabla looked up at Tygelgor with wide eyes, and he just directed an I told you so smirk at her. She nodded politely to the merchant as she moved to follow Tierney.

"I wonder if we could find some pretty shoes to go with our new dresses and jewelry," she mused as she fell into step next to her. Tygelgor stayed right behind the two, his watchful eye on the crowd around them, protectively.

"Shoes?" Tierney asked as she watched the Tellarite skulk off in search of a new victim, "I never really thought about anything more than just boots... But I guess you can't wear them with a dress and not come across as awkward." She rambled slightly in an outward monologue, more to quell her own shame at being so inept where femininity was concerned. "My mother died when I was young," She explained, looking towards Fabla as they walked, "and my father had this dream I'd some day champion the Enterprise and win our fortune back in with his father's mainline family. Those lessons didn't include playing dress up."

"If you are to be a champion of the Enterprise, you will likely need to play host to many people, some of which would not want you to wear your uniform. We shall find you high heels. They will make your legs look longer," Fabla insisted with a giggle, spotting a booth with just what she was looking for.

"High heels? Why I've never walked in heels..." The protest of the pretty little Commander fell on deaf ears, punctuated by the grumbling laughter of a Nausicaan and the argumentative nature of a Tellerite, the shyness of their linguist and the artistic eye of the medical officer rounded out the group.

Heels were picked, two pair for Tierney alone and no less than four for herself of Fabla's choice, then the rest of the day was spent parading the young Commander through the bazaar in a set of black stilettos that threatened to break delicate ankles with one wrong step. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, or some Orion variant, or so it had been said.

They had found again, collectively, what had once been robbed from them; a family. Finally.

=/\= END LOG =/\=

Lt Cmdr Tierney Rinehart
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Enterprise

Fabla
Civilian Pilot
The Freighter Figaro