SD241806.18 | PLOT - JDL | Lt Dai'xun, Lt Valeese, ??? | "Calamity Jane"

Posted on Sat Feb 18th, 2023 @ 6:54pm by Admiral Rochelle Ivanova & Lieutenant Si'a Dai'xun Shran

1,397 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Lacuna
Timeline: BACKLOG

It was loud. So loud. Nearly deafening. The crowd beyond the backstage area was roaring, the bidding going wild as a set of slave girls was brought out and paraded around. They were just three lots ahead of Valeese, four from Si'a... They'd be the last two to be auctioned off before the evening shifted to equipment and ship sales. Each catcall, each change in number, each yell of "YEP!", each roar of laughter all threatened to make the little Vorta lose her stomach - but she held it together for sake of the nervous little Stenellis penned up with her.

It had become a relatively slow backstage, few people ventured from cell to cell to check out the goods - most had already made their decisions and come to check out the wares. Out of a stroke of genius, or maybe it was simply to drum up the price, their cell hadn't been one 'opened' for physical inspection. They were to be left alone for sake of not transferring illness to the 'product' or overstress Si'a who was being sold as a two for one and supposed to be safely guaranteed with-child. How the idiot Orions could have come up with that idea when there were so many medical variables that could send the blue-maned alien crashing, blew the Vorta's mind - but she hadn't the stomach, or the mind, to correct or challenge them. She needed to be alert, ever watchful, and ever mindful of any chance to escape.

While Si'a may have been convinced that Anaxar was coming, Valeese held no such faith. At all.

... Until she locked eyes with a dark-haired woman that had paused in front of their cell.

Spinning some kind of cylinder in her hand, the woman strolled up to the front of the cell with a smile. Her deeply british accent belied her obvious human heritage, "Tsk tsk tsk, what is this? You can't possibly be comfortable in there," she pulled on the neckline of her civilian-looking bomber jacket, "you really do look terrible, darling."
She gently touched a careful finger to the forcefield, as if to somehow emphasize it. Rather than recoil, the glove over her hand seemed to ignite in response to the energy, cascading lights of circuitry passed through it as the forcefield shimmered. He smiled, "would you like me to get you out?"

"Clever." The Vorta's amaranthine eyes rolled wearily, "We haven't heard that one at all today." Sarcasm dripped, but curiosity waxed as she watched the cylinder spinning in the human woman's hand. The eyes narrowed slightly, focusing in the low light on the metal and the way the woman played with the sudden arcing lights and play of plasma and electricity dancing along her gloved finger tips. "What we haven't seen is that." Peeking back down at the little Stenellis, Valeese's movement was accentuated by the sound of metal zills as she climbed to her feet and hesitantly approached. "So... Sure. We'll bite. What's the caveat?"

"No caveat. You just wanted to get out, right? Save your friend and all that?" The brunette's head tilted with a pout as she gestured towards the bundle of turquoise and cream huddled beside the Vorta. The light show ended as she pulled her finger away, allowing the power to wane and dissipate into nothingness. Somewhere behind her the auctioneer's gavel dropped several times, closing another lot. Somewhere a life ended and she knew the Vorta could feel the proverbial chains of fate closing ever tighter around her pretty throat. The closer she came, the wider the brunette smiled. Her employer would be pleased indeed and she was ever thankful that the species she was now dealing with was ever curious. Almost predictably so.

"And all that." Valeese replied cooly, her eyes still watching the cylinder for a time longer. The gavel drop brought her attention back to the other woman's face, her dark eyes in particular. The glimmer in them did little to foster trust and merriment - if anything she felt as if she was about to broker a deal with the devil on an empty I.O.U. "That it?"

"This?" The brunette's head tilted and she dangled the cylinder, "It can be anything you want, sweetness."

With a shake of her head and a sigh, Valeese listened balefully at the sound of the next lot being shuffled out into the bidding pen. No better than animals. No more alive than the bits of rhinestones and lace that clung to their bodies. The raven maned one felt her shoulders droop ever so slightly, "I have no time to play games anymore."

A tiny hand rested on the Vorta's shoulder and from the shadows the little Stenellis stood as firmly as possible beside her protector and friend. "If she says no more games, then it's no more games. You let us out or you go take a seat and watch the sow." Show. Show. Damn it. What a time to screw that up. Didn't matter. The point was made by a rather serious little star that should have glowed but had no light to give. She wouldn't shine again until they were safe and she was back where she belonged. With Anaxar. "So... Please?"

There was a shrug and a sharp 'snick' as the top of the cylinder was twisted and clicked into place. It took mere seconds before there was an electrical whine and the forcefield fell away, freeing the two women, "Mkay." The brunette grinned and motioned with her free hand for them to take their leave.

And they did.

Without another word, Valeese was grabbed by Si'a who beat her to the punch bolting for freedom.

"We have to make for an exit! There's got to be a port entrance!" Valeese's voice was high and tight over the sound of hoots and hollers - the pounding of a gavel and her lot number being called. It made her blood run cold. There was nothing more that they could do now aside from run, as fast as their already tired legs could carry them, blindly through the maze like bowels of the station towards and imagined exit.

Si'a didn't reply, but she could feel and hear the urgency building within them both. Words refused to come. They refused to leave her tightening throat as the duo ducked down a corridor filled with crates and cargo boxes, nets, and random other materials she didn't stop to study or worry about. They had a mission. It was called survival and returning to their rightful positions in life. Failure, though likely, wasn't an option. They'd die if they didn't succeed, of that she was perfectly certain. One way or another, they would die. Dodging a crate, her shoulder brushed against Valeese's and the two of them nearly went down in a tangle of legs and frustration.

Both of them stumbled, the Vorta hip checking a large metal bin as she fought to stay upright and drag Si'a along with her. She was exhausted, still drained from nearly being choked to death and hit with more adrenaline than could possibly be healthy - something in her right knee felt like fire as it was jarred by her heavy, stuttering, stiff legged strides until she was able to catch herself and keep from hitting the deck. Nothing seemed to be going right - save the fact that they weren't on the auction block - and that was the risk she'd been willing to take when it came to getting them out of that hellish situation. Valeese grabbed the little Stenellis, settling her and guiding her back on track and around a corner to what appeared to be some sort of passageway but then... Darkness. Darkness so sudden that it drew the two nocturnal species to a sharp halt, forcing them to let their eyes acclimate to the pitch black - and when the klaxons began to blare, the lights coming back on - dimmed heavily and red - neither one was especially surprised.

What they didn't know, however, was that the sirens had little to nothing to do with their escape or that they were effectively running head long both towards and away from salvation.

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To Be Continued...
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Lieutenant Si'a Dai'xun
Stellar Cartographer
USS VINDICATOR, NX-78213-F

Lieutenant Valeese
Chief Medical Officer
COLD STATION THETA, SB-1170

 

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