Down to Nothing, Chapter Two: Escape

Captain Brandis took one look at her and laughed. "How do you expect to earn your passage, frail child?"

"I have a collection of model ships back on earth. They're actually quite valuable. In the right markets they can bring up to …" she paused for effect … "three bars of gold-pressed latinum."

"Up to? That's no guarantee."

And I'm no Ferengi. Think, Jenna! "I'm a skilled pilot. I can offer my expertise. Perhaps you would care for some guidance system upgrades?"

"That would be more valuable to me than your toys." He spat the last word, and Jenna winced. She'd spent her entire life collecting those models, building some of them herself.

"Good. Then we have a deal."

"You may come to airlock 3A at 0300 hours." The comm channel went blank.

She checked her chronometer. That gives me fifteen minutes. I'd better get going.

Heart pounding, Jenna peeked outside the guest quarters. Seeing no one, she slipped down the hall, hugging the bulkheads, half-running to dodge every shadow she felt certain would grab her. Finally, she reached the docking ring and slowed her pace, composing herself to appear as if she belonged. I do belong, she told herself. They have no right to restrain me. Airlock 3A came at last, and she accessed the comm panel to alert Capt. Brandis of her arrival. All too slowly, the bulkhead rolled aside, and she darted inside to refuge.

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Brandis put her to work immediately upgrading systems. "I want to get my money's worth," he told her. At 0600 hours he visited to check her progress. "We depart in one hour. Eat." He tossed her a chunk of bread. She ignored it.

An hour later, she extracted herself from under a console and sat in the pilot's chair.

Brandis signaled Ops. "This is the cargo ship Atiarana, ready to depart."

After a pause, the reply came. "Atiarana, this is Major Kira. We are conducting routine cargo checks on all outgoing ships. It should only take a few minutes. Prepare to be boarded."

"What?!" Jenna blurted as the comm channel went blank. She knew very well that "routine cargo checks" usually meant Starfleet expected to find contraband. "I thought you were carrying 20 metric tons of quadrotriticale!"

"My cargo is none of your concern."

"What is it? Weapons? Drugs?"

Brandis glared daggers at her. "Get us out of here."

"Without the docking clamps released? Are you crazy?"

"Do you want your Starfleet friends to find you here?"

Jenna paused. It was run or be caught. No, scratch that. With these engines, it was either be caught or run and then be caught.

"There's no way, Brandis. Even with my piloting, it'd take a miracle."

"Then get out of the way!" Brandis knocked her from her chair, and she sprawled across the deck. Nothing broken this time, but bruised, certainly.

The Atiarana strained against the docking clamps as Brandis thrust the engines into forward and reverse over and over again. Dazed, Jenna sat on the floor, lost as to what she should do.

The ship shuddered, and sparks flew. Afterwards, the straining ceased. "They've got our engines!" Brandis drew his phaser, and Jenna decided to get out of the way, choosing the spot under the console where she had worked earlier.

Eventually, Security boarded and a short firefight ensued. Brandis received a stun bolt to the shoulder and was transported to a holding cell, and Jenna briefly hoped Security would overlook her. No such luck.

"Cadet Swann?"

She crawled out from under her console. "I didn't know about … whatever … he was transporting. What was he transporting?"

Constable Odo turned from directing a couple of his officers to search the ship. "You really don't know?"

Jenna shook her head.

Odo walked her way. "You have the right to remain silent. You might want to use that." His hand was heavy on her shoulder as he signaled the transport to her cell.