Gorram Stowaway (Lars)... and Mechanics

[Lance Howe]

January 20th, 2523
0400 Hours

With the situation down in the engine room somewhat resolved, the ship doctor made his way back to the infirmary before following the captain's orders for what would hopefully be a quick meeting considering the hour. Lance pulled on his pistol belt and a few pieces of medical equipment just to be safe. Their stowaway had a mouth but was probably a huge wuss when it came to physical violence. Still, this time Lance would be ready to deal out some overwhelming and disproportionate force if the kid stepped out of line. If there was a "next time" then he wouldn't be standing-by as unarmed back-up.

After upgrading from just-rolled-out-of-bed to ready-to-fight-but-still-want-to-get-back-to-bed the doctor walked the short distance to the captain's quarters/office and knocked at the door. If there was one thing Lars enjoyed it seemed to be talking to people from behind his desk. It seemed a little silly for a ship captain to act like the owner of a bank or something but if that was the 'worst' thing about Lars (if you could even call it bad rather than just odd) then the Bjorn Star was lucky to have him as captain.

[Lars Engström]

Lars stood, or rather slumped, with his back against the wall of his office, staring blankly at his bunk. He wasn't really engaged in the act of looking, his eyes had merely settled there, and he hadn't bothered to move them. He was thinking, his mind racing as he struggled to focus and order his thoughts. What had seemed like a minor concern had now begun to spread out into the makings of a very big problem, if things didn't get sorted and quickly. He was still in a daze when he heard a knock on the door.

It took Lars a few moments to register that the sound was knocking, and a second or two more to realize that it was probably Lance, and that he had asked him to come. Lars shook his head, trying to clear it as best he could and then spoke. "It isn't locked..." He said, more because he didn't have the urge to say more. He glanced toward the desk, but didn't move. He didn't honestly care anymore, for god's sake it was something like 4 in the morning and he was wearing sweats. To hell with moving anywhere. "C'mon in."

[Lance Howe]

Lance entered when the captain gave his permission. It was merely a formality, one which most of the crew probably would have done without but the doctor wasn't going to barge in on the man. Lars appeared just about in the same state as the doctor, tired and in no mood to deal with any tonight. Hopefully Lance hadn't done anything to contribute to his mood.

"Yes. What is it you wanted?" he asked as he stepped into the room. The doctor showed the captain respect but he was no soldier nor was he going to kiss any ass by throwing in 'sir's or standing at attention.

[Lars Engström]

Lars gave a weak smile when Lance came in, more out of relief than anything. He had assumed it was Lance, but the chance that it was someone else was always there, and he didn't need any more issues at the moment. His head was starting to ache, after all the time he had been awake, it was starting to catch him. His small amount of sleep hadn't helped at all, and he felt as though his whole body had been soundly beaten. He closed his eyes for a moment, clearing his head. Then he looked at Lance. "It's Jordan." He said, simply. There was no purpose in beating around the bush. "I am worried about her safety, and well, ours as well." He felt awful, like he was betraying a friend... which he was. "Sorry it is so late, or early, but i need to talk to you. Can you shut the door?"

"Look," He continued, "it might be for the best if we keep this quiet, for now at least." He paused, "But she isn't exactly stable." He looked Lance in the eyes, "I know you noticed, hell I am sure everyone has, but it doesn't change the fact that she could put herself, and or the crew, in serious trouble." He sighed and rubbed his temples. "I can understand a past with reavers messing with you, but i think the incident, has shaken her more than we know. i heard her talking in her sleep the other night, and you can see she isn't sleeping well." He felt his feet slide a little, and he pushed himself back up the wall. "That kid, isn't a threat to anyone except himself, but he could have been," Lars' voice rose slightly, and he stopped, then began again. "He could have been a gorram psychopath, and she would have just let him on the ship." He was shaken by the incident, for the first time in a while, he was truly afraid.

"I know she talked to you about it, but she won't listen to me, she and Trace aren't talking it seems, and Dru could care less what I ask her to do." He shot a helpless look at him, "We need to find out whether or not she is in need of serious help." He said, in a matter-of-fact voice. "Because right now, I don't know whether to expect a hug, or to bring tissues. I need a stable mechanic, so i don't end up humped in the middle of ruttin nowhere, because she cant see through her tears to fix the gorram engine." He was shouting, and he pulled himself back. "Sorry," He said, raising a hand to his eyes and rubbing them. "A lot on my mind."

[Lance Howe]

The doctor closed the door as instructed. He wasn't surprised that Jordan was to be the subject of conversation considering what she'd been through, the way she'd been acting, and her actions that night. Still, it seemed more pertinent to deal with their hitchhiker before dealing with in-house problems. Despite Lance's ordering of priorities he listened to all the captain had to say. Lars was right that she was off and they probably needed to do something about it but it seemed like he was blowing things out of proportion. Maybe Lance just wasn't on the receiving end but he was more concerned with the recovery of the crew from their recent injuries, not who wasn't talking to who.

"You still haven't said what you wanted." the doctor said to start off. He was surprisingly neutral in his tone considering the topic of conversation and Lars' elevated tone. So far Lars had just been venting to him, not giving him an order as the ship doctor or even just a reliable crew member that could handle himself. Perhaps all Lars needed was to vent to someone and the most logical choice ended up being Lance.

"I'm a doctor not a psychiatrist. I can try to treat Jordan medically but it's not as easy as taking an aspirin to relieve a headache." Lance explained. "I could give her something to sleep but even if that works the risks for side-effects and dependency are great. There's no guarantee that sleep would cure her waking issues and then a drug induced sleep will effect efficiency too."

"But I think we're beyond that. Tired and emotionally scarred or not, Jordan is still going to be upbeat and naive enough to trust a perfect stranger stowing-away rather than sounding the alarm for an intruder. I could get her depressants to kill her mood but I don't have a little pill that will greatly change her personality, and even if I did I don't think we'd want to go there. It would be akin to lobotomizing her... a little messy but I could probably pull that off." Lance seamlessly managed to transition from caution regarding the procedure to scientific curiosity at the idea of it.

[Lars Engström]

Lars looked at Lance, and sighed. "I know you aren't bloody shrink." He said, trying to reign in his anger. He didn't know where it was coming from, and it worried him. He blamed it mainly on lack of sleep and the headaches that spawned from it. "But you are the only one who knows anything about how people work." He shrugged and sighed, sliding down the wall a little. "what a ruttin mess we have." He mumbled, pushing off from the wall to go and sit on the edge of his bunk, his head in his hands. "A beautiful ruttin mess." He sighed heavily, rubbing his aching head. Then he looked up at Lance.

"Aside from experimental surgery, and dangerous drugs, do we have any options?" He looked blearily into the doctors face, silently praying for some sort of solution. "To be honest at this point, I am just glad the kid wasn't dangerous." His next words were muffled by his hands as he ran them along his jaw. "If we'd had to kill him in front of her...." He let the words trail away, there was no need to finish the thought. "Or if he had.... done anything to her." The new thought had chilled him, and he thanked God that there had been no trouble. He could take a kick in the stomach, but Jordan wasn't in any shape to deal with more psychological trauma.

"That reminds me." Lars said, giving Lance a look. "Do you have anything to say about the damn kid himself?" He started, and then motioned at a chair. "Take a seat Doctor." He said, apologetically. "Don't let me make you stand around." He closed his eyes for a few moments as he spoke. "We can't kill him, that is for sure. I don't know, he can always help around the ship...." He raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "Besides," He rubbed his stomach, "The kid can fight a little if he has to. Train him how to hold the right end of a gun and he might be useful."

[Lance Howe]

Lance shook his head. "No. I wish there was an easy option but there isn't." he said. "These risky treatments do exist for a reason though. If the reward outweighs the risk then it might be time to try it. We can see if she reacts positively and then decide whether to continue with treatment and risk dependency or not." The doctor explained. It was really their only option other than ignoring the problem or dumping Jordan someplace because she was a liability.

He moved further into the room and sat when the seat was offered. Lance had no real interest in just standing around. The closer he could get to laying down the better. "If you're looking for input then I would strongly caution against taking the kid on, certainly not bringing him a long and arming him for a fight. He has no allegiance to this vessel or its crew. He's a gorram thief and I wouldn't dare turn my back on him." Now Lance's voice was getting slightly elevated as he spoke. He began to tone it down as he continued. "He seems like a spineless wimp too. He might not shoot us in the back but he'll likely rabbit first sign of trouble."

"He's a damn stowaway anyway even if he were a great fighter with other useful skills, which he's not. He snuck on board, stealing both passage and food stuffs from you, then put your mechanic in danger, and instead of surrendering and admitting fault he tries to spin you as the bad guy for catching him and forcing him to pay his way. My advice is to work him to the bone on transit and maybe make him do more physical labor once we land to pay off his debt. Once it's time to set off again you dump him there and we're done with him." The captain had asked for his advice so there it was. Normally he wouldn't have gone telling the captain what he thought Lars should do.

[Lars Engström]

Lars groaned, quietly, as his head throbbed harder. He knew that Lance was telling the truth, at least as far as Jordan was concerned. There wasn't much they could do, out here. He had heard it somewhere before, but the phrase that crossed his mind made the situation seem nearly hopeless. "We are very much alone." muttered, softly, and he didn't know if Lance heard him or not. Lars sighed and looked off at the wall, not really seeing it. "We can't dope her up, she won't stand for it, and if we did it anyway, and she tried to work through it..." He shook his head. "That won't work for anyone."

"But we can't just leave her either. I can't afford to lose her." He felt trapped, because he saw no solution on either side. "She is too good at what she does, and for all we know if we dump her on some rock she'll get worse. At least here, she has friends." A thought crossed his mind, and he figured it to be the only real choice. "We should start by talking to her." He said, simply. "Probably should have decided that at the get go." He blamed exhaustion. "Not tonight, but soon. It needs to be done." He ran a hand through his hair. "At least then we might get a read on the situation." He looked at Lance, with a grim face, "Not much more we can do, but hope we find a solution soon."

Lars was admittedly surprised by Lance's fierce reaction to his questions about the stow away. He stared for a moment, his words lost after the doctor finished, before his mind reacted. Damn he was so tired. "I am not going to use him as a slave and then just throw him on a rock." He said, flatly, unsure whether the ferocity of Lance's words was just due to fatigue, or whether there was more to it. He shook it off for the time being, there were more important things to deal with. "Do you honestly think he is the type to betray anyone? He doesn't have the guts. He wouldn't run either, too scared of what would happen if he tried. Although you are right I won't be teaching him how to shoot just yet."

He sighed and shook his head. "And the attitude, hopefully will change. He was probably just tired like the rest of us. Not to mention scared half to death." Lars' eyes narrowed, "I'll have to talk to him as well." He groaned again, and put his head in his hands.

"It all just piles on at once, doesn't it." He muttered, looking back at the doctor. He was glad the man was willing to talk, and speak his mind. Especially when he obviously wished he were asleep. But hell, so did Lars.

[Lance Howe]

"We can always start small." Lance said in response to Lars' refusal to drug her. It really was the only option available after all. "She even asked me for meds before so I think she'd be willing to take them. We don't have to give her anything to 'dope' her when she's awake." The captain's interest in just talking it out of her was the best plan to solve the problem but such a process required someone trained in the field and could take years. Besides, Lance was the one being asked for help and he certainly wasn't the 'tell me your feelings' type of doctor. The other crew wouldn't be much better. Jordan, Trace, and the Marshall weren't on the best of terms. She and Jeff had a rapport but that seemed purely professional and Jeff didn't seem to have emotions. Dru was the only real choice but she wasn't always around lately and she certainly wasn't going to play nice with the captain's plan. Yeah, talking wasn't looking so good right now.

Lance was confused by the captain's reaction and his face showed it. From what he gathered, Lars leaned toward the Alliance and thus the rule of law but his disdain for the plan seemed too idealistic. "It's no different than a convict's work release or an indenture's contract. He put himself into this position and he needs to work off his debt. Now he's gone further and succeeded in planting the seed that you're partly responsible for his situation. The man shows no remorse so I won't show him any charity no matter what his sob story is."

"The man's an opportunistic coward. If we're in a tight spot and turning on us would result in his survival then I don't doubt that he'd do it. If we're destined to get killed or captured then there is no fear of reprisal from us. As I said before, he's not the type you'd want on your crew even if he was recruited and not caught and forced to serve aboard the ship." Lance continued with his thoughts on the matter and further explained his conclusions. "I'm sorry if that's not what you wanted to hear."

[Lars Engström]

"Fine" Said Lars, in response to the plan with Jordan. "I hope to God nothing goes wrong in the middle of the night." He gave Lance a meaningful look, "Unless you are a grease monkey as well." He sighed and then continued. "I don't know what to expect anymore." He looked around his office, more because he was worried and trying to figure out what they WOULD do if Jordan was drugged up for the night and something went wrong. He said a silent prayer, and hoped it wouldn't come to that. "So that takes care of her, at least for now."

Lars was stung, slightly, by the insinuation that he was being manipulated by the stowaway. "I know perfectly well that I wasn't responsible for a gorram part of his situation, as you call it." Lars snapped, but as he said it, he wondered if it was true. "But it doesn't change the fact that he is here now, and apart from putting him out the airlock," He sighed, and stood up. "We more or less HAVE to trust that he won't stab us in the back." Lars' body screamed as he stood, but he couldn't stay seated. He began to pace, unable to remain still.

"If I were older," He said, slowly and carefully. He measured his words, so as not to miss anything. "I might know better, or at least be better prepared for all this." His head was spinning, and he fought against drowsiness, knowing he had to solve this problem before he could sleep. "But I'm not, and I don't." He sighed, and continued his pacing. "I want to believe that I can trust him, and that is probably because i don't know any better. But you are right, so far he seems to have a very defined sense of self preservation." Lars tried to tread carefully, but his sleepy stupor made him blunder on.

"I think it would be worth the risk to give him a chance." He said flatly, "If we leave him on a place like Sihnon, he'll probably be either dead or worse within a week, as far as i am concerned, he can work on the ship, and then once i have had more time to sort things out, and watch him, we can decide." He narrowed his eyes, and stopped pacing.

"I have heard the rumors about how men like me, alliance captains, treat stowaways, but that isn't human, and I won't stoop to that." He took a deep breath, trying to keep his head clear. "But if he doesn't show some use, or at least something more than a wet blanket outlook on life, then we'll drop him on the first rock that has more than a few snakes on it." His tone was final, and he didn't care to discuss it further. "As long as we don't give him anything to gain by turning on us, we should be fine."

[Lance Howe]

Lars seemed to be wrapping everything up. There was no need to debate the finer points of insomnia treatment or treatment of stowaway musicians. "Whipping the kid might be inhumane but I honestly see nothing wrong with making him pay off his debt. I suggested that course and I fought in the war and not for the Alliance. Don't let the stereotypes of others dictate your actions or decide for you what is right and what is wrong."

(Super short post to wrap this thread down and also because my muse is dying. Sorry)