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"Uber Mutiny Club"


SS Excalibur NCC-2004 C

“Uber-Mutiny Club”


VIII. If any shall plan a mutiny, he shall suffer what punishment the Captain thinks fit.

- Accord Number Eight of The Pirate Code of Captain Ah-Windu Corizon


"The code is more what you'd call "guidelines" than actual rules."

- Hector Barbosa, Captain of The Black Pearl, Pirates of the Caribbean.


I iz on ur ship, breakin’ out mai awezome piratical quirkz.

- Commander Kitten


Commander MVess “Left Ear” JoNs was not a mutineer. Never had been, never would be. The panther like feline was however a practical pirate. How can a pirate be practical you ask? That was an easy question to answer because being practical in this business was what kept you alive and kicking.


It wasn’t as if the ships Ex Oh doubted the leadership methods of Ah-Windu Corizon, or the captain’s guerilla tactics, or the years of experience that he had garnered within the pirating community. The fact was that the Dameon was more then a capable leader and the campaigns that she had participated in under his leadership had been a damn fine romp of pirating as well as profitable.


But, with the crew taking the Imperial ship Excalibur for their own use, launching several campaigns fighting the Federation Imperials in the covert name of certain Romulan government factions, which led to each campaign or raiding mission that came down the galactic highway getting bigger and bigger and with more risks … Left Ear did have her doubts that Corizon could keep holding it all together as he had been doing.


Again, was the Caitian senior officer a mutineer? Not exactly; let’s just say she was planning ahead for an eventual downfall and leave it at that, and JoNs had gathered a fair sized crew that would be wiling to splinter from the main crew if the excrement ever impacted with the rotary oscillating device.


The men and women were enlisted grade pirate officers mostly, and all of the departments were represented; they weren’t a large group, only numbering about thirty to thirty five or so, but that was a nice sized number for when the group needed to move fast and hit hard either to take over the Excalibur or jump ship and go off on their own. She had carefully selected the most likely candidates and approached each of the enlisted officers about possibly siding with her, and her efforts had been rewarded once the clandestine crew had been finally assembled; the so called covert ops squad was a solid group and she could count on them if and when she needed some backup for the final solution so to speak.


If she was blatantly honest with herself, the brown furred panther Cait had always planned on the jumping ship option as the more solid plan over a full on take over of the Excal; it was real easy for clumps of officers to go missing during a raiding party skirmish, don’t ya know?


The enlisted pirates made up the backbone of the crew, and if you were gonna splinter, get some enlisted grunts on your side. From there, you chose key senior personnel from the upper ranks. Grabbing any senior grade officers interested in the cause would mark the stage two launch.


Locating, cajoling, bribing and/or threatening some more senior personnel to jump on board for the contingency plot was definitely on Left Ear’s mental radar, but she didn’t have any plans to follow through with the entire plan just yet because once you went for stage two, you were fully committed and had to move fast, hard, and quick to stage three which would encompass either taking over the Excal by force, or splinter off and running like Hell off on your own with your co-horts.


It was always nice to have options.


JoNs and her skullduggery companions had piled into the main hanger bay under the guise of a training debriefing on one of the Runabouts, with JoNs along as an observer to the so called training. It was an off shift so the hanger bay did not have a large amount of shuttle traffic or personnel, and the area had been swept and cleared of any bugs; the high grade listening devices in the hanger had all been replaced with lower grade civilian devices that projected a continual feedback loop back to the main security offices certain select hours during the second shift by the ships chief of security … oh wait, that would be Left Ear. So, as long as they had their business done and had cleared out within the next hour, no one in the patrol offices would be any the wiser, and the original bugs would be seamlessly replaced before the loop timer digitized.


It was a little cramped with all of them crammed into the cockpit and front middle workstation area of the Runabout, but the meeting was winding down anyway. “ …. So, that’s how the current plan stands ladies and gentlemen. Stay alert, mind your jobs and your posts, and if and when we need to move against command or haul ass off the ship entirely, look for the pre-alert sign from me. Until then, we just watch and wait to see if any opportunity presents itself. No one lose your heads, but if you do see something that indicates this ship and our missions are going to Hell in a Hand Basket, report in to me first. Dismissed.”


The Uber-Mutiny Club filed out of the interior of the Runny shuttle and split, casually going about their off duty business and leaving the hanger bay in small groups. Left Ear waited until her fellow thugs had departed before turning her attention to the big and grizzled older Klingon who had stayed at her side during the entire meeting and lingered afterward.


“Master Chief, if things do go south and this all hits the oscillating device, and I need to launch my contingency plan against my co-leader and any department heads that side with him, you’re charged with grabbing the Kitten and keeping her as safe as you can when the break away melee starts. She knows nothing of any of this, so once we start to move, you’re gonna need to grab and give her a really quick rundown. Our safe word is pridescar; use that and Kansas'll know right away that I sent you to her.”


“It’ll be done Commander.” The big, craggy headed man began to walk towards the exit ramp doorway of the shuttle.


“Good. Keep your nose clean Keltex.”


The enlisted Security guards rumbling chuckle rolled across the enclosed interior of the Runny shuttle; the tone was good natured and infectious, despite the seriousness of what the senior officer and enlisted officer were discussing. Keltex was a Klingon who had survived about three breakaway mutinies during his long career, and he had always had a knack for picking which side was the correct side to pick. Or the most profitable one in the long run, rather. He turned and smiled a feral smile at the feline.


“You know me. I’m always clean, Sir.”


Left Ear offered him a wink in response.

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