Ripping the Colours from the Mast - Part 1

Posted on 30 Jul 2012 @ 8:35am by Commander Scarlet Blake

1,493 words; about a 7 minute read

(OOC: Thank you to Anne, Aria Rice's writer, for helping me write this)

ON:

[2373 - Maquis Base]

Scarlet was huddled up on a long pipe, somewhere in the heart of the Maquis base. She wore a simple, black jumpsuit, with slip on shoes rather than boots. Her eyes were blue and a clear contrast to her long, dark hair, tied back out of the way. She was a tall girl, but also slim, and although she was a teenager, she had a serious look to the fine lines of her features. Her smile made the lines soften though, showing warmth. However, she didn't smile too often on the base.

Now, at the age of 14, Scarlet had learnt over the five years she'd lived there with her parents to just keep out of the way whenever possible. It was full of unstable people. Some were hurt, others zealous. Some were angry, and other just liked to cause trouble and violence. Whatever they were, there weren't many there she liked. Or trusted. She turned the page of her book, sighing gently. She tried to take the history in, but she was having to teach herself, as she had done since her parents had become more focussed on Maquis activities.

"Hey...runt," the man moved to her, his greasy blond hair tied back from his face, his brown eyes watching her sternly. He was tall, well built...but something about him wasn't quite right. "You got better things to do than to sit here and read. We need to get the pipes cleaned and your dainty little hands will do just fine."

Scarlet glanced up to him with a frown, taking him in. She'd seen him around, and known well enough to avoid him. She pulled her legs up closer to her body, turning another page. "I don't work."

"Yeah? Everyone else does," he said and moved close, grabbing her book and frowning. "What a primitive thing...padds are better."

"Hey!" she knelt up on the pipe, reaching out to try and reach for the book. "That doesn't belong to you!"

He watched her as he held it higher before grabbing her by her shirt. "Now, we need someone to clean the pipes...and you are going to do it, runt."

Scarlet held his eyes, her own dark blue as she grabbed his sleeve, breathing harder. She knew she was dangerous ground, and her instincts were usually to avoid any kind of confrontation one way or another. But she was getting angry too. Her chest moved hard with how fast she was breathing as she bit her lip. "Just because you and my parents are Maquis, it doesn't mean I am," she whispered. "It should be a 'school' day, I'm trying to learn."

He watched her before pushing her back, hard, throwing the book at her feet. "You will obey," he said, as if it was simple. "Your parents aren't here right now. You will obey, or else there will be consequences..."

Scarlet picked up her book, slowly, but her eyes remained fixed on him. Her fingers curled tight around it, until they turned white. He was right, her parents were off the maquis base, as they often were. Probably in the middle of some mission, or setting up and planning another. In truth, she was more used to being alone on the Maquis base full of strangers, often violent ones, than with her parents there . She was tired of it though. So tired of it. She hated the place. "I don't answer to you," she said curtly.

"You answer to all of us. We feed you, we clothe you and we are trying to save your future," he leant close to her, holding her eyes. "And you are an ungrateful little runt for it."

She turned her face away from him with a frown, breathing harder, swallowing even though her lips were dry. "I don't see how fighting can produce any kind of nice future."

He chuckled as he watched her, arching an eyebrow. "We are doing the right thing. You'll see, one day."

Scarlet bit her tongue, holding his eyes fiercely. All she saw was violence. Vigilantes that called themselves 'Maquis' to create their own licence to hurt and kill.

***

Jeroen Adlar frowned as he turned the corner, his long brown hair hanging freely, his blue eyes picking up the people around him. He was of average height, with a face that could be both stern and gentle. A scar ran on his top lip, shown even more with the facial hair he had grown. With everything that was going on, he liked to keep an eye out on others. After all, he was a scientist before anything, a geoengineer. But he had joined the Maquis after working with colonies for so long with terraforming. It had been a natural choice. And even if he preferred his theories, his work...he was a good fighter too. He sighed as he stopped, watching the girl with her book for a long moment, his jaw tightening.

Scarlet sensed the eyes on her, glancing up from her reading as she curled up tighter on the warm pipe. "I'm not cleaning anything, so don't ask."

He watched her before folding his arms, studying her. "Scarlet," he said, his voice firm. "Where are your parents?"

Scarlet searched his eyes for a moment, setting the book to rest gently at her feet at seeing who it was. "Who knows. But they're not on the base. They've been gone about a week."

He watched her before sighing as he studied her. She was pretty alone here. And she was just a child. Someone should look after her. And unfortunately, her parents were next to useless. He watched her before offering his hand to her. "Come on. You can't sit here all night. Have you even eaten yet?"

She shook her head lightly, wrinkling her nose up. "That replicator is useless, if you ask for bread it gives you soup, and if you ask for soup it gives you sausages," she laughed softly though.

Jeroen chuckled as he watched her before nodding. "Well, I happen to have dinner ready, so you might as well join me. You're a skinny little thing anyway. Get up and follow me."

She pushed herself up easily enough, trotting to catch up with him and walk at his side. She'd spent often enough following him around. He was a scientist, and one of the only people willing to answer questions when she was stuck on something she was trying to learn. "I'm not skinny. Am I?"

"You are," he said and smiled weakly, looking at her. "But you're just growing up. No, you need a proper meal. And rest, I take it. When was the last time you slept in a bed?"

Scarlet shrugged lightly, rubbing the back of her neck with a frown. "I've been hanging around out here. Bases are weird. You can't judge time properly."

Jeroen nodded at the words, taking a deeper breath. "I know," he admitted softly. "I find it difficult to find out when to stop working. There is no day or night here."

"People say you are a workaholic," she watched him with curious eyes, smiling gently. "You don't train as much as the others either. They're always fighting."

He led her to his room, his eyes gentle as he got her inside. It was...what it was. Grey. With his notes, his books, his equipment. Everything he had managed to rescue before the Cardassians came along. "I do fight. But it's not what I am about. I am a geoengineer, not a gunslinger."

She moved to one of the chairs, curling up in it, the black jumpsuit pulling with her body. It was already a few inches higher on her legs than it should be, from a recent growth spurt in height. "Do you have children?" she asked softly.

He looked at her with surprise, shaking his head. "No. No kids," he said and moved to the little stove. He had a replicator, but he had salvaged parts from it to fix some of his own equipment. And sometimes, cooking was easier. He got out the stew, watching her as he took two bowls and spoons, all made of the same sort of plastic-like hard material that was plentiful in these sort of stations.

Scarlet sat up straighter, sighing as she smelt the food, her stomach rumbling with it. "Now that is good. I can tell already."

He smiled as he served it up, carrying it to her before sitting down as well. "Eat up," he said as he met her eyes. "You need it, girl."

Scarlet obeyed easily, not needing to be told twice. She moaned softly, closing her eyes as she ate with need, enjoying every mouthful. She glanced across to him with a small smile. For the first time in a while she felt comfortable.

TBC:

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