Objectification in Space

[Dactile]

"You can't make us take on cargo!"

"Madam, according to section 7C, yes we can."

Tineye Ungen paced the office floor, hands clasped behind her and wearing an expression that just might kill the customs officer if he bothered to look up from his monitor. She had been having a very good day up to this point.

"You can't just demand that we be put out of our way like this!"

"The schedule you submitted for approval shows that you will be passing through the sector where the prisoner belongs." he responded with a palpable air of boredom.

"Yeah, and it also said we would be traveling with a full hold. It's not every day you get a contract to carry nano paste, and I'm not going to have you screw it up!"

"You will be compensated."

"Not enough! Do you know how many zillions of nanobots you could fit in the space you're asking us to vacate?"

"You will be compensated... Fail to comply, and you will be fined, at best."

"RRRRRRGGGGHHH!" Tineye growled, looking ready to pull her hair out "Fine! Just take the prisoner to the loading area, we'll wedge them in between the crates."

Tineye stalked out of the office. It had been such a good day too. Now they were stuck with some living baggage they had to see to one of those stinking prison colonies. What's worse, there was always an inspection at those places, and there were a few shipboard modifications and 'creature comforts' that the security patrols would take exception to. They'd have to stop by a chop shop, storehouse, and both those places would probably try to gouge her or make off with whatever wasn't bolted down. She headed towards the dock, activating her radio to tell the rest of the crew to get ready to head out. She didn't want to hang around this station long enough for them to decide she could do them any more favors.


((The title is my little homage to "Objects in Space", Firefly's last episode.))

[Polecat]

It had only been 4 months. She kept reminding herself that. It had only been 4 months.

She sighed as she looked at the four walls she was contained in again. 4 months in this prison cell, all for having the misfortune of being born and drafted into the wrong side of a war. Still, it could have been worse, she supposed. She was only a Lieutenant, and that was a battlefield commission. She was just a wrench jockey, a repair tech, who worked on the ships. She wasn't a combatant. She didn't even carry a weapon. She just kept the ships of the line working to the best of her ability... and the occasional officer's "special" frigate. The only reasons he even had a commission was because the officer they were assigned to was killed in an ambush and she stepped up to keep the mechanics working and handling the situation. She shoulda' just stayed silent, she tells herself, then she could've been sent home like all the other draftees.

Her ship was attacked and subdued 2 months before the end of the war. Another month for the trial, and finally a month to wait for shipping out. Idly she wondered who they conned into carrying her. They wouldn't pull a prison ship to handle just her, she wasn't all that high profile. She was a low rank nobody. It wasn't even that she was being sent to some maximum security prison or what-not, so they weren't going to go out of their way to get her some fancy transport.

She heard the scuff off boots down the hall and moved to stand up off the bunk. She idly straightened the orange jumpsuit they gave her, which was short sleeved and only came down to the middle of her calves. She remembered wondering about the design at first, until she realized the orange was a highly reflective material, impossible to miss even at night, and the high cut was to ensure wrists and ankles were exposed for the restraint cuffs they used. She wasn't even allowed shoes, so bare feet pressed on the cold metal floor. She tugged the front zipper of the jumpsuit up to the neck again. The whole thing fit poorly and made her wish she had her old work coveralls from the ship again, but she doubted that comfort was their primary drive. Heck, the entire jumpsuit had built in panels that could allow it to be removed piecemeal or all at once without even touching the zipper in front, and it's not like they provided underwear....

The scuff of boots stopped before the door she was behind and she sighed, watching it snap open. A helmeted and lightly armoured guard stood framed in it.

"Dorothy Johanna Sentrol?" the guard asked, confirming her name.

"D.J. is just fine sir." she twanged in a barely noticeable accent.

"We've arranged a ride for you Miss Sentrol. You'll be taken to the penal colony to serve out the remainder of your 5 year sentence." he stated.

"Let's see..." she thought, cocking her hips and pouting her lips slightly as she mockingly considered it,"That's only... 4 years and 11 months left!!"

"Very funny." the guard answered dryly, but she could see the smile under the visor of his helmet. Dorothy sighed a little and stepped forward, lifting her hands up over her head as required. The guard paused, tho she was sure he was looking her over. Were it not for the ugly jumpsuit, she would take it as a compliment. She was hardly a model, but she liked to think she was attractive, and she could manage to turn a few boy's heads when on shore leave. Her hips were slightly wider then the average, giving her a more curvy appearance then the skinny models so many people preferred these days. Her mousy brown hair was a little unkempt these days, tho far longer then she preferred to keep it on active duty, and damn near reached the upper curve of her backside. It reminded her a bit of a few of those comfort girls she'd seen, who liked to use very old arabic/harem style clothing and their over-long dramatic ponytails. She might have to try that sometime.

The officer stepped forward and drew out what looked to be a heavy yoke. She frowned a little as he started fitting the collar in place, having to unzip the collar of her jumpsuit to do so. "I thought you usually just bound the wrists behind the back?" she asked quizzically.

"Not for transport. Need something more long term in case they don't trust you enough to just lock you in a room on ship." the guard noted,"They'll have a key for emergencies tho, don't fret." She grunted as he pushed her wrist into one end of the yoke, and repeated the process with the other, the soft pneumatic hiss of the closing shackles told her even before the first tug she wasn't getting free, and without a key to turn the pneumatics back on to release her, she wasn't going far. A precaution she recognized, tho one she never expected to find herself placed in. It was odd to her, wrists held about a foot or so from her neck on each side, she wasn't familiar with this set-up. She was surprised when the guard leaned down and added shackles to her ankles as well.

"I'm not a high risk here, why the heavy stuff?" she asked her jailer, who just shrugged.

"Sorry, all prisoners are a flight risk. Hobbles are standard." he answered before standing back up and attacking to the back of the yoke his control rod, about a 2 foot rod he would "steer" her with. He gave a light push to get her walking, bare feet slipping along the floor and looking terribly delicate compared to his combat boots.

"Only a few years of this DeeJay..." she told herself as he steered her down the hall,"Then you'll be back among the civilized in no time...."

(( Tag. Prisoner is on her way. ))

[Dactile]

Tineye watched the station go past in the elevator. Such a shiny place. It made her ship sitting on the dock look like a speck of dirt that needed to be wiped away.

"Got more character than this whole place." she muttered to herself looking down at it on the dock.

She caught a reflection of herself in the window. She had cleaned up for this trip, and she cleaned up nice. She had a whole outfit that she kept clean for occasions such as these. Gold vest, red button up shirt, and black pants. Just to show she wasn't standard issue she had added the knee high boots. Just enough to give the outfit some spice without making people think she was a companion looking for customers. Her hair was dark, nearly purple. Send people out to enough colonies on worlds with bad radiation shielding and all sorts of new features start cropping up. She was glad to just got an odd hair color. Could be worse, she could have had the "Telfrega nose."

Her short heels clicked across the deck as she approached the meeting area. She was not looking forward to this. Any second now they'd lead in some unkempt, unruly jarhead to darken some corner of her ship for the next few days. She prided herself in keeping a neat ship. One that even a finicky companion could call home, and many had. And now they were sending her some- or, maybe they weren't.

She raised an eyebrow as the guard pushed his charge in front of him. The girl looked as though the restraints she was carrying weighed more than she did. Tineye shrugged mentally and kept up her composure, letting the guard walk to her.

"So, this her?" she said as the guard came close enough "Couldn't wait to get this dangerous fugitive off your hands could you?"

She had a harshness to her. Came with the territory of being a captain. It was obvious that there were other layers to her personality, she just didn't care to show them all that often.

[Polecat]

The barefooted girl game to a stop and looked around a little bit. Clean spaceport... too clean. She highly doubted they did a lot of work in here, probably mostly forcing the crews to fix their own ships. The ship she was lead to tho... it looked as bad as the ships that had been through the war did. She cocked a hip slightly and looked it over, nodding to herself. Could use a new intake valve, perhaps an armor refit or a new re-entry shield, but otherwise looked well cared for.

It had, for lack of a better word, character. A word that she found oddly fitting for the woman who stepped into view and started questioning the guard. She shook her head, already realizing that this woman wasn't all that happy with being "forced" to carry her. The guard disconnected the control rod and stepped forward, using one hand on the yoke to keep his charge still.

"This is her." the guard stated and handed the Captain a key,"For Emergency use that will release the pneumatics on the yoke and shackles. How you keep her is your business, so long as she gets to the penal colony on time. Failure will result in ordinance C.4-32 being enacted, and you and your ship will be declared fugitives." he states,"That's it. She's your responsibility now." and without waiting for a reply, clomped off, leaving the two women to look after him... before looking at each other.

"Um... hey there." Dorothy offered first, trying to defuse the situation a little bit,"Nice ship. Sorry to be a bother like this an' all, just got caught on the wrong side of the war. If you want, I can earn my way, I was a ship mechanic in the fleet. As far as I know I'm a low risk prisoner, and honestly, I just want to serve these 5 years and get it done and behind me and back to a real life, like I was doin' before I was drafted."

[Dactile]

((Not sure what's going to come up to make them risk all that for a five year sentence, but I'm sure I'll come up with something.))

Tineye smirked a little. Finding it amusingly awkward that this is where the handshake usually happened.

"Name's Tineye Ungen." she said with a distinct lack of formality despite her attire. "I'm captain of this 'nice ship' and it looks like I'm going to be your jailer till someone more suited comes along. What's your name? Or should I just call you 'prisoner 02145'?"

Ungen might have been a familiar name to a draftee like Dorothy. Thomas Ungen was a prominent general in the rebellion. With that came a few priviledges, like keeping his daughter off of the draft boards. Didn't keep her from watching his execution though. Low profile enough that they didn't see the need to make an example of his family, allowing Tineye to slip under the radar and be relatively free in society. Most people in the central planets didn't even blink at the name.

"Come on, might as well show you your chariot." she said walking toward the ship and gesturing for the girl to follow.

The inside of the ship had much the same feel as the outside. The ship itself was... serviceable. The floors were bare metal, just like the walls. The homeyness came in the form of nick-naks hanging from various surfaces. Items that held no meaning to anybody else were glued to the wall near the entrance. The captain's good luck charms. The hold was full of boxes and crates, their latest shipment. Though it seems that some had been shipped out to make room for meals for the prisoner. She may be away from the prison, but it seemed the food would follow her.

"Take a seat," Tineye said hopping up onto one of the crates. "Rest of my crew should be here any minuet."

[Polecat]

"Ungen... Ungen..." the girl repeated for a moment as she was lead into the ship, having to slide awkwardly sideways in a few spots, especially between the hobble chain and the yoke,"Were you related to General Ungen? I didn't serve in his unit, but I heard a lot about him." she notes as she moves to sit where directed.

"Sorry about that. I'm Dorothy Johanna Sentrol... but every I know just called me Deejay offa my initials." she notes with a broad smile that seemed to light her face up. Green eyes sparkled as she settled into place awkwardly from the restraints, looking the place over,"Looks mostly stripped down inside. Cargo running, but something else I'm guessing. Ships like this usually have some background with smuggling operations from the fringe." she notes softly and glances over with a half smile,"One of the officers I was under would smuggle booze in his personal ship all the time. I'd keep my mouth shut about it, so he always asked me to help with repairs when the time came. Maybe I shouldn't have, then I wouldn't have been on the old Farsea when it was taken. EMP bomb and an ambush, the officers never saw it coming, got the entire crew without firing a shot. Admittedly, not much we coulda done with the shield generators AND engines knocked offline in one blow. They must've gotten lucky to get it past our magnetic shielding..." she sighed, then gave a smile.

"Sorry, been living in a cell for 3 months. Restraints or no, I'm just glad for the room. Even as packed in as everything is, this is a far-side larger and more comfortable then my previous station was." she notes with a shrug,"Either way, I'm rambling. Just nice to have someone to talk to."

(( Who says they care? Minor threat, and if they fall off the map, no one will even notice Dorothy gone I wager. It's just a convenient plot-hook for GM use when desired. ))

[Dactile]

Tineye scowled noticeably at the mention of her father. It was a sore subject for her. Fortunately her ire did not extend beyond an icy silence. She simply glared at the prisoner as she began her rant, but began to soften as they won her over with ship knowledge and force of personality. After all, who could resist that smile?

"Anybody tell you you're a little too perceptive kid?" she smiled. "Yeah, we make most of our living taking stuff from one place to another. And... other things on the side. Doing some taxi work, providing some companions with a base of operations, and in short, making money in all the ways that don't wind us up. like. you." she said tapping on the yoke for emphasis "So long as we're careful that is. Guess everybody's like that these days though."

Tineye seemed to relax for the first time since she got to the station. And why not, she was in her own ship. Her own little world she had the helm to. Some of her uptight mannerisms faded. She didn't sit properly on the box, she lounged, resting her arm on another crate. Her outfit remained stiff however. It seemed designed to take all of her womanly shapes and compress them into submission. She idly unfastened the first few buttons on her coat, sighing as the pressure came off her chest. Baring far more cleavage than she would expect to be able to be taken seriously with. But hey, she was home.

[Polecat]

D.J. may not be the quickest in the known universe, but the icy glare the mention of the General earned her told her that was NOT a subject to bring up on this trip. She's in shackles, and a prisoner hitching a ride. if she pisses off this woman, she has a feeling she'd end up walking to the penal colony... not exactly a fun prospect, no matter how you cut it (and even less when one considers how many Pirates and Slavers are out there).

The girl mnmmphed a bit when the yoke was tapped, becoming more keenly aware of it when it was brought up,"Sorry ma'am." she apologized,"Like I said, I spent 3 months in a small cell with only my own shadow to talk to. Damn near went crazy. If anything a prison, instead of a 10x10 solitary cell, will be a relief. At least you generally get a roomate." she jokes, tho weakly,"But yeah, Sorry. I sorta figured this ship might do a little running on the side. It's a good ship for it. The Series V engines have a lot of speed behind them, and one of the slowest warm-ups to FTL that I know of short of military grade engines. I thought on initial glance the armor might need a refitting, but if you're designed for running light it would make sense to trim back the armour. Guess you got a good pilot tho, wouldn't want to eat a plasma bolt with the lighter armour. Still, can't begrudge anyone needing some credits after the war..." she notes and goes to cross her legs before the hobble chain defeats her and makes her stumble. She curses softly and regains her balance, relaxing again where she was sitting.

"You might want to check your plasma scoop tho, the intake valves looked a little scorched, like it took some damage on enterin' the atmosphere. Also might want to have a once over on your re-entry shield as well, looks like it took a real battering lately." she notes, then ducks her head,"Ack, sorry ma'am. Can't teach an old dog new tricks I suppose. Been a wrench jockey all my life, even before gettin' drafted. I woulda taken over the family shop, working on personal craft and the like, about now. But gettin' drafted for the past 5 years put a crimp in Daddy's plan to retire." she notes sadly as if there's more to it then just that.

[Dactile]

'Oh, she's going to talk like this all trip.' Tineye thought to herself, idly wondering if there was something serviceable as a gag on board.

"You really seem to know your stuff." she nodded "We've always got something needs patching. Course they wouldn't want us doing any work in their nice polished hanger. Were planning to hit a dry dock when we get the chance."

She made a note of the girl's shift in mood when she talked about her father. Having sensitive issues of her own she wasn't one to broach the subject.

"I don't know how they ran your old ship, but we aren't exactly military issue around here." She said idly looking back at her "We do pretty much what ever we want so long as you aren't in the way, and you don't break nothing. I suppose that can extend to you, but we probably won't be leaving you alone too often. I know you're 'low-risk' but I don't like folk on my ship I haven't checked out personally. I'd say we'll let you out of the cuffs if you're good, but I'm not sure I want to encourage you to spit any more sugar my way." Tineye yawned and stretched, standing up once more and looking down at DJ. "How an adorable little thing like you is going to survive five years is beyond me. Anyway, we're going to keep those on while we're at the station at least, I bet they monitor them. Don't want guards poking around at my ramp cause they think you'll make a break for it."

((I think that's it for the night for me. Should probably give other people some time to show up too I think it's going good so far.))

[Polecat]

(( No worries, I'll pause it there to let other people join. I'm not usually quite this active, but was having fun. ))