[center][h2]THIS IS NOT A DRILL[/h2][/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/2KDIbF6.jpg[/img] [/center] [color=FFB6C1]abn8r: You still mad at me?[/color] [color=4DD8E6]tjinks: Pretty much[/color] “Sounds ‘bout right,” Abby whispered t’herself. They’s a tick there where she conjured apologizin’. But a couple days gone past with naught on the fence mendin’ comin’ her way from them’s she felt put out by had her more’n a might ornery. Smartest thing she done since was backin’ off, putin’ her nose right tah her work. And with all them Anabaptist folk bein’ hid aboard, they’s plenty ‘o’ that tah keep her at it til the cows come home. [i]Mouth shut, hands busy.[/i] Plan seemed tolerable. She done brushed off a couple “you shiny?” questions from Yuri an’ Edina, but seein’s folk was all so busy an’ Abby’s reputation fer findin’ work needed doin’ purty much left ‘er to her own machinations, she done been granted all tha space she needed without a body lookin’ over her shoulder. [i]Mouth shut, hands busy.[/i] Shoulda kep it that way, but today, with upthrust in about six hours, that little ornery kindling inside ‘er done built to a flame. So, even though they’s alarm bells in ‘er head beggin’ tah just type “I’m sorry” to Thomas, the deckhand’s thumbs banged out somethin’ altogether diff’rent. [color=FFB6C1]abn8r: Get in line[/color] She knowed, the very minute she pushed ‘Send’ on that, it weren’t helpin’ nothin’ ‘tween ‘em. She knowed she lied tah Thomas, but more she ruminated on it the more she weren’t certain if she’s tryna save him from worry or jest her way ‘o’ savin’ face. She’d conjured sendin’ ‘him a fresh pitcher, her face all healed an’ clear ‘o’ what them Headhunters done, might take tha edge off, but that didn’t work. And now, a fresh ping from a new message tole her that Thomas was ‘bout to let ‘er know tha price of her orneriness. [color=4DD8E6]tjinks: I’ll pass[/color] That’n sent a chill, but all pissed off an’ puffed up as she felt, the girl didn’t allow fer no rethinks, though she did consider herself right smart for sayiin’ “well fuck yew,” out loud, ‘stead ‘o’ typin’ it. Still, this lengthening road ‘o’ faux pas didn’t do nothin’ fer her outlook. “Hey!” Abby shouted as she pounded on tha lav door. “Time tah clean! Anybody about?” “I’m here!” A woman’s voice come back muffled through the door. “I’ll be just a tick.” “Take yer time.” The girl pulled ‘er janitor cart tah one side. She slipped ‘er cortex inta her denims an’ leaned back on tha bulkhead, arms folded, eyes down. Word was Cap’n was plannin’ a few extra days on Pelorum. She’an Alana already made plans tah buy bikinis an’ git some beach time in…probly ‘bout all she could afford. Pelorum’s touristy stuff was powerful costly, but she had enough Uncle Bob in ‘er tah not be fazed by all them coin traps anyway. Packin’ a PB&J an’ sittin’ on a beach might jest help ‘er kill that bug done crawled up her [i]pi…[/i] [hider=Qhick Hide Alarm][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K_nLauJoAtg [/youtube][/hider] [i]Another gorram drill,[/i] she cursed inwardly, even as she sprang into action. “C’mon!” Abby flung tha door open as tha woman inside’s gettin’ ‘erself situated. “It’s an alarm! GO!” She hustled tha woman out, the pair of’em joggin’ fer tha cargo bay hatch. She seen Alana, doin’ her part, makin’ sure ain’t no Anabaptists lingerin’ about passenger berths. [i]One Mississippi, two Mississippi,[/i] her brain’s countin’ down tha time as she’n her charge burst inta the cargo bay. Anabaptists been usin’ tha space fer exercisin’ an’ group prayers. Right now they’s ‘bout nine -ten, tah her sight, all cleanin’ up bibles an’ signs ‘o’ their presence afore jumpin’ inta tha belly hatch bay. “GO GO GO!!!” Abby shouted over tha musical alarm. “GIT IN THA HOLE! GIT IN THA HOLE!” [i]Five Mississippi, six Mississippi…[/i] Tha deck hand run full out, crossin’ tha cargo bay tah the little control face next tha forward cargo door. “NOW, NOW, NOW!!!” she roared. Abby whirled, takin’ sight ‘o’ the final refugees as they jumped through tha opening in tha deck. The nonstop drills was all payin’ off. All them Anabaptists crouched low, droppin’ down tah be clear of the deck plates she’s bout tah close on top 'em. [i]Eight Mississippi…[/i] She slapped tha big red button…heard tha sound ‘o’ whinin’ hydraulics an’ a motor crankin’. [i]Nine Mississippi, ten Mississippi,[/i] Abby counted as the opening sealed itself shut. As she ran clear, Abby cast a gander at the hidey hole an’ it’s coverin’ ‘o’ bricks on pallets. She whipped ‘er cortex out; as part ‘o’ SAM’s runnin’ them drills, tha AI done sent her a tap screen with a big icon …[b]CLEAR[/b]. She laid ‘er thumb on tha icon. Now, Cap’n an’ Imani’d do a walk through tah make sure ever’body’s all hid without a sign. She’s a tad bit prideful that last five drills showed tha cargo bay…her responsibility..all squared away an’ right. But that ain’t what happened this time. Tha personnel hatch flew open, swingin’ wide so’s it struck tha bulkhead with a loud clang. They’s men…one in civvies an’ thaa rest all purple bellies, come hustlin’ in, guns wavin’ all about an’ heavy boots trompin’ tha deck. “CAPITAL CITY PD!” The plain dressed man pointed his gun straight at her. “GET ON THE GROUND!” She done as she’s told, hands up as she took tah her knees. Plain Dressed Man rushed right at ‘er, gun trackin’ her all tha way down on tha deck. “NAME!” he shouted. “Travis. Abigail Travis…deckhand.” “WHERE’S THE CAPTAIN?” She flinched; them handcuffs stung as they slapped on ‘er wrists. “Got no idea. I’s jest ‘bout tah git moppin’...” She felt ‘is hands all over her, pattin’ her down afore takin’ ‘er cortex an’ ‘er ident. From where she’s layin’, all Abby could see was black boots stompin’ about. Plain Dressed Man was gone. She didn’t know where, til she heard tha squeal ‘o’ tha boat’s com. [i][b]”Attention! Attention! This is Detective Hekubah, Capital City Police. We have a warrant to search this vessel for illegal cargo or human trafficking. All crew and passengers are ORDERED to report to the cargo deck…IMMEDIATELY. Failure to comply will result in criminal charges. DROP WHAT YOU’RE DOING AND COME TO THE CARGO BAY…NOW!”[/b][/i]