by
MARLA
Please review"Do you think she's mad at us?"
Captain Dannan Stuart lost her count and growled. "Dammit, Warfield, I was at four hundred sixty-seven this time."
Lynne Hoskins snorted at Lauren's question and rolled over on her thin stained pallet. "Whatever gave you that impression?" She flicked another chittering crawler off with one manicured finger and grimaced, her cultured tones a direct contrast to her soiled blanket. "Our deluxe accommodations?"
Stuart scowled up at the rusting ceiling. "One, two, three. . . ."
Lauren Warfield frowned at the captain. "Leave the bolts alone, you're going to give yourself a neurotic condition."
"Fine." Stuart got up and began to pace their cell again. "One, two, three. . . ."
Hoskins shook her head. "Great improvement, Lauren, now she's counting bloody steps."
Warfield sighed. "I'm serious." She thumped the heel of her boot against the wall. "I was only kidding around with this whole situation, you know. Saavik shouldn't - well, get revenge. And yet, where is she? We've been in this cell for days!"
Stuart stopped pacing and rubbed the bridge of her nose tiredly. "Vulcans don't get mad, Lauren." She gingerly touched her cheekbone and winced. "Am I getting a black eye?"
"Yes, you are. As for the idea about Vulcans not getting mad, Ha! Tell that one to Hal Dawson. Do you know she had him scrubbing the relay coils — by hand?" Warfield shifted around on her pallet, trying to find a somewhat more tolerable spot before she gave up and just rolled onto her side. "Do you know that there are four point five kilometers of them on the ship?"
Stuart grinned in spite of herself and pushed a dirty lock of blonde hair back behind her ear. "He had neglected the maintenance cycles the last inspection. And as I remember it, you agreed his spreading rumors about your friend Savage earned him that punishment."
"Oh, totally. But you can't say she didn't get mad."
"Not mad. Disapproval of behavior unsuitable for an officer. That's how she described it to me."
Warfield snorted again.
Hoskins fiddled with one of the rips in her uniform jacket, idly trying to match the now fraying ends together. "What about our Mr. Pebble and Rh'nu?"
Stuart laughed and leaned back against the cell wall, ignoring the mold. "They're just lucky she happens to be rather fond of Hortas, and that as a Vulcan, she's not going to turn Rh'nu into a pair of new leather boots."
"She made them do the entire ship's inventory — that's four cargo bays and over seventeen storage holds — by themselves!"
"It was their loose lips — figuratively speaking, mind you — that got her declared a delicacy by the g'Rul."
Hoskins frowned down at her jacket. "Damn. I lost a rank pin." She leaned over the edge of her pallet and peered suspiciously at the scum puddles pooling on the flooring. "Do you think it's in here or back at the bar?"
Lauren was too involved in the conversation with Stuart to answer. "I admit that she let Lynne off easy."
Hoskins sat up, her rank pin forgotten in her proper outrage. "Easy?"
Both Warfield and Stuart winced.
Hoskins' fair skin flushed red. "She made me memorize the entire g'Rul linguistic structure — in every dialect and sub-dialect on the whole planet!" Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Exactly what do you mean easy? It took me seven months!"
Warfield snorted derisively. "But you like linguistics, that doesn't count."
"Sit back down, Hoskins!" warned Stuart in full command tone. She flicked a stern look at Warfield who protested.
"What? She almost got Saavik eaten! I was expecting a punishment more . . . you know, intense."
Stuart's mouth twitched hard. "Like what, kitchen detail?" Her eyes glinted wickedly. "It wouldn't be logical to punish the rest of us."
Hoskins sniffed, but her lips started to curve anyway. "I am not that bad of a cook."
Warfield's eyebrows lifted. Stuart cleared her throat.
Warfield crossed her arms and scowled. "Maybe she's getting us back for that game of Truth or Dare."
Stuart grinned. "As I recall, that was your idea."
Lauren winced. "Lynne talked me into it."
Hoskins snorted. "Not bloody likely. You are the bad influence, not me."
"Hey!"
Hoskins' eyebrow angled up in almost perfect mimicry of their First Officer. "Whose idea was it to have shore leave here? And who got Security set on us?"
Warfield heaved a huge sigh. "That guy totally overreacted to what I said. I meant it as a compliment."
Stuart shook her head. "Apparently, he didn't take it as one."
Hoskins rubbed her arm where a rather large green and blue bruise was growing. "The stalking charge won't hold in court."
Stuart pulled a face. "The public disturbance one will. And the assault ones."
"I had a right to defend myself."
"It was a brawl, Lauren."
"I can't help it if other people joined in." She grinned unrepentantly. "He's just mad that more people were on our side than his."
Stuart sighed. "Then why are we in the cell?"
"Because Hoskins can't run worth a damn."
"I what?"
Warfield sat up stiffly, holding one side carefully. "Come on, captain, you know how it is in every port. If a fight breaks out, the first people grabbed is anyone in a uniform."
Hoskins smiled sweetly. "And who was it who said we would, and I quote, catch more guys in uniform than out? Anyway, if you're going to be worried over someone being angry over this, Dannan is more likely to seek revenge for this escapade. You ruined her chance to see Mal for the first time in... How long has it been?" she asked even though she knew the answer.
Stuart snarled. "Nine months, seventeen days. His ship has probably left orbit by now which means I won't see him again for another nine months or more. Thank you for the reminder, Lynne, not that I needed it."
Warfield narrowed her eyes at Hoskins. "Remind me exactly why we're friends?"
"Masochistic tendencies do occur in three out of five weapons officers."
All three whirled to the cell's tiny, old fashioned barred window.
"Saavik!"
Stuart put her hands on her hips. "Took you long enough."
Their First Officer lifted a dark humored eyebrow from where she was crouched just outside and cocked her head. "I could come back later, if you prefer."
Stuart's eyes glinted. "Do you like court-martials?"
"Superior point." Saavik pulled a phaser and changed its setting. "Prepare to be 'jail broke'."
Warfield laughed. "Are you reading Westerns again?"
"Upon yours and others' recommendations, yes."
Hoskins climbed to her feet a bit painfully. "Aren't Vulcans supposed to obey the law?"
Saavik scanned the area with a quick look. "As no horses were available, I trust you will not be disappointed with a shuttlecraft."
Stuart winced. "Ours or somebody else's?"
Saavik gave her captain an incredulous look. "It would defeat the purpose of this activity to use an easily traceable escape vehicle."
"Sarek is going to have my head if he hears you did this."
Saavik began inspecting the bars for the quickest cut possibilities. "Sarek does not engage in decapitation rituals."
Stuart sighed.
Warfield snickered. "What she means is that someone other than me is going to be blamed for being a bad influence around here."
"Where's Mal?" Stuart asked. "Did you see him before he left? Why didn't he come here to say good-bye at least?"
"To answer your questions in the order given: Chief Jakobs is piloting the shuttle. I did not speak to him before he left because he has not left. He extended his leave based on your situation. Your jailers refused you any visitors which explains why you have not seen him."
Hoskins cleared her throat. "You didn't answer me. Aren't Vulcans supposed to obey the law?"
Saavik arched an eyebrow. "If certain officers would follow standard Starfleet protocols and peruse local laws before engaging in contact, they would have noted that the local law requires no set holding terms for off-world prisoners nor grants off-worlders any rights of personal bodily security while in holding."
Warfield paled. "They could keep us here."
Stuart frowned. "And do whatever in hell they wanted to us. Just lovely."
Saavik nodded. "The only reason they have not already engaged in such... entertainments, is that I made a substantial monetary donation to delay all such activities for seventeen days."
Warfield's eyes widened. "You were planning on taking seventeen days to rescue us?"
Hoskins and Stuart's jaws dropped. "You bribed them?" said Stuart incredulously.
"Where did you get that kind of credit?" demanded Warfield.
Saavik lifted a cool eyebrow at them. "For future reference, it would be prudent to increase the encryption programs of your personal accounts."
Warfield nearly choked. "You did not!"
Stuart had to cover her mouth with a hand.
"Bloody hell!" Hoskins groaned.
"You would have preferred to remain here instead?" Saavik asked innocently.
Warfield growled at Stuart. "Still think she's not mad at us?"
The three of them backed to the far moldering wall, while Saavik set the phaser to work on the bars.
Stuart grinned and shook her head ruefully. "I think that constitutes liking in her book."
Warfield grimaced. "Yeah, but which half — the Romulan or the Vulcan?"
"Seventeen days," Saavik warned them calmly from where she was cutting the bars
