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+--- Thread: ...without a paddle. (/showthread.php?tid=64305)
...without a paddle. - Patrician - 08-05-2011
The room stank of cigarette smoke and fear. The overhead light flickered ever so slightly; just enough to give Frank a headache. It wasnt his first time in a holding cell and probably wouldnt be his last. He had been in here for at least an hour, but of course there were no clocks to know for sure. Nothing to do but curse his luck and wait. Frank was what people called a Junker, but to him the term was meaningless; he just wanted to be left alone. Not ALONE alone, like some of the odder Zoners out on the Fringe, but alone to live in peace. Sometimes that meant taking jobs you didnt look at too closely. That wasnt to say he didnt have his own code; no way would he ship slaves or human organs, but if shipping some cargo that might be missing some paperwork kept food on the table...well, no choice at all really. His thoughts were interrupted by the door opening and a tired looking man shuffling into the cell.
'My name is Paul Jarvison and I am your appointed attorney. Do you wish to plead guilty or not guilty?' He spoke like he had said the same thing a thousand times; and probably had.
'What are the charges?' Frank asked.
'Possession of military cargo, smuggling, blockade running, yadda yadda yadda....what it really says is you are screwed. You can either plead guilty and hope to get out before you die of old age, or take it to court, lose, and face a firing squad.' The attorney seemed to not care at all either way.
'What the hell? I didnt DO nothin! I was haulin' some farm equipment and the next thing I know the cops are hammering me with cruise disruptors and telling me to shut the engines down before they do it permanently. They throw me and the crew in restraints and I get hauled here. Where's my crew? Where's my ship?'
Frowning, the attorney skimmed his file. 'Your ship, the Kerouacs Krate, has been impounded. Standard procedure. Your crew are in holding, but no charges have been filed yet. It says here you were caught with a full load of military vehicles, tanks to be precise.'
'Thats a loada crap! That was farm equipment! Theyre just tryin ta hit their quota of innocent merchants fer tha month.' Frank was livid. He HATED coming through the Core.
'And why was this 'farm equipment' armored?'
'I dunno how many o' them Planetform commercials you seen, but not all planets end up lookin' like Curacao. Lots of 'em take a while to settle down. Crazy weather; especially in early terraforming stages. Equipment has to be super sturdy to take hail the size of a mans fist and wind that will carry off yer car.'
'And the cannon on some of them?' The lawyer looked slightly amused now.
'That aint no weapon. Aint even rifled fer God's sake. Low velocity gun fer removing obstacles. Stumps and the like.'
'And the paperwork from point of purchase?' Frank Cooper didnt have much to say about that, which perversely seemed to satisfy HIS attorney. Frank knew he was up the proverbial creek.
'Right. So unless you have an attorney on retainer, I am your court appointed advocate and Im telling you to plead guilty.'
'But I didnt DO nothin!' Frank racked his brain for someone to call, but most of the people he ran with didnt exactly visit courtrooms unless they were ah...REQUIRED to. With a sinking feeling he remembered he DID know a group that could help a Junker out of a jam...if they were inclined. The Congress. Frank used to fly with the Junker's Congress but got out; he preferred more independent operations. Still, any port in a storm....
Sighing, Frank picked up a pen and wrote a name on a slip of paper along with a number he had memorized long ago. James Trenton. 'Call this man and tell him I need a favor. If Congress can help me out, Ill fly fer them again to work off me debt.'
Frowning, the attorney read the name, gathered his papers and left. Frank was left with his thoughts, a rickety chair, and plenty of time.
...without a paddle. - JunkerTown - 08-06-2011
The JunkerTown is locked in drydock at the Vieques shipyard. Sounds of men working and people moving can heard throughout the ship. On the bridge Junkers surround James Trenton sitting in his captain's chair. Junkers pass reports and ask the Deputy Arbiter for various orders..
A female Junker speaks,
Sir we have the information about the artifacts recovered from the transport shot down in Sigma 13.
Trenton replies,
Good, good.. Send the data over to the black box and have it secured for transport.
Male Junker says,
Boss the two freelancers have relayed their coordinates and are awaiting further instruction?
Trenton responds,
Right, tell those two.. Hold their position until we have the package ready for delivery.
Another Junker speaks up,
Boss we have an external communication originating from a prison station. It's some lawyer, says he represents Frank Cooper.
James stands up and raises his voice..
People quiet down now.. what was that man's name again?
He says,
Frank Cooper
James raises an eyebrow and says..
There's a name I haven't heard in a very long time. Alright put that comm on screen..
Junker,
Roger that.. coming up now.
Trenton begins..
This is James Trenton Deputy Arbiter for the Junker Congress. What's this about?
![[Image: lawyere.jpg]](http://img191.imageshack.us/img191/407/lawyere.jpg)
Uh.. hello? Ah I see ya now! My name is Paul Jarvison attorney at law. I represent a man by the name of Frank Cooper. He asked me to call you and said he needed a favor. Not sure what your able to do but I should tell you. He is charged with possession of ...
James interrupts,Look I am very busy and do not need to know all the details. Nor do I care as I am sure there is a perfectly rational explanation for everything. If Frank needs me to get him out.. I'll do it.
Tell him he best be ready to go back to work though. Now all I need to know is who is holding him and where he's being held?
...without a paddle. - Patrician - 08-07-2011
Cooper amused himself by placing mental bets on the cockroaches racing across his holding cell when the sound of the door locks disengaging roused him. As his attorney walked in, frowning, Frank forced himself to keep a straight face. 'Been talking to Trenton, looks like.'
'You are free to go. Your crew has also been released and is awaiting you at the ship impound.' His annoyance was plain to see. 'Must get a commission for every soul sold to the prison/factories' Cooper thought.
'Oh yeah? How'd that happen?' Frank just couldnt resist baiting the man.
'Seems your friend has connections that pointed out certain...irregularities in your arrest.' Oh yeah, he was mad.
'Hmph. Irregularities like wrongful arrest, unnecessary use of force, those sort of irregularities?'
'Just get out of here, you filthy Junker,' the man hissed.
'Right.' Not even bothering to conceal his smile now, Frank brushed past the man and followed the guards to impound. His crew were waiting, seemingly none the worse for wear. They do look confused though, Frank thought, with a chuckle.
Frank grinned at them. 'All ABOARD!' Frank walked up to his first mate, a man name Otto. 'Otto, there is no WAY these goons didnt put trackers or something in the Krate. Search the ship top to bottom before we take off. Otto nodded and walked towards the ship. Good man, Otto. Doesnt run his gob a lot.
Frank boarded the ship, savoring the smells of his vessel; smells that would be considered foul to others just smelled like home to him. After giving a loving caress of his chair arm, stained as it was by ashes and coffee, Frank sent a comm towards Puerto Rico.
'Thanks, JT. I owe you and the Congress one. Im yer man. Fer now.'