LeftEar JoNs

= = = = Internal Memo = = = = = = = Private Command Line = = = = = = = = Encrypted Text Coding NV-87 = = = = To: Corizon, Captain Ah-Windu From: JoNs, Commander MVess Re: Internal Security Concerns Ah-Windu: It seems we have a bit of an internal security breach. I received an incident report to my personal Padd a little while ago, and apparently we have a female Pakled engineer who managed to not only stowaway on board the Excalibur, but was and is impersonating a Starfleet officer within the engineering department. Commander Admiran promptly had her arrested and escorted to the security offices when he discovered the ruse. She is currently detained in the brig. I know I don’t need to go into my typical rant (as I’m sure you are thinking the same line of thought as you read this) regarding the internal breach that has occurred here, let alone how she managed to get into the sector and onboard a Starfleet warship of the line. I’ll be looking into this matter and I’ll keep you apprised of the situation. - Left Ear PS: We do owe ourselves a good stiff drink; if you are interested, this is my treat, my quarters, eighteen hundred hours, Caitian tea liquor. = = = = Internal Memo = = = = = = = Private Command Line = = = = = = = = Encrypted Text Coding NV-87 = = = =

10.05.08 USS Excalibur: TBS: One Week - A Crownstone-less Excalibur continues to exit the Boganary Thicket System unmolested per the decree of Auntie Wort. - The Science department is in hog heaven as they got to study and scan the space phenomena of the Thicket in great detail as the Excalibur passed through the system. And, we have a field trip: permission was asked, and received by the Captain, to take his yacht to get some up close and personal readings of the plasma flare activities and such. - Lieutenant Commander Teykier is to be the leader of the yacht research team. - Lt. Commander Tr’Lorin was released from the Medical Bay; the newly discovered pregnant Lieutenant Patterson remains in her quarters with a direct order from CMO Wydown to rest; the Ziers were reunited with a happy, though green, Baby Julie. The medical staff is fairly certain the baby’s green skin pigment will fade with time. They think. Yes. They do. We hope. - The Pakled Engineer Asyle has been discovered (by Chief Engineer Admiran) to be a stowaway and impersonating a Starfleet officer. Security tries to question her. She does not like men, and so the mystery deepens. - Lieutenant Victria pays a very predatory Captain Corizon a visit and they talk some mission business. Promotion: Lieutenant Kallah Ramson to Lieutenant Commander. Past Promotion not previously recorded: Lieutenant Senior Grade Marius Tr’Lorin to Lieutenant Commander. Congrats to the promote-ees!

Note: this log is set during the one hour TBS. 10.04.08 USS Excalibur NCC-2004 C “Winking Out” Commander Left Ear JoNs had just discharged a couple of her minor XO duties; updating the Ziers on the situation with their daughter, and then updating the Captain on the Ziers. She had been focused on her tasks, yes she had, but they had been easy enough to accomplish on her mental co-pilot so to speak. Now, the feline had brusquely but politely excused herself from the Ziers as they still waited to see their daughter, and then quickly made herself scarce for the next one hour to take care of some personal concerns: a sonic shower, locating a fresh uniform, food, and beating the hell out of something that wouldn’t get her court-martialed for assault and battery. In no particular order. Twenty Minutes Left Kick. Right Kick. Paw Swipe. Battle Yowl. Round House Kick. Battle Yowl. Right Punch. Left Kick. Paw Swipe. “Can I shoot her again GranMom? Please?” The words spoken by the yellowish green Boganary kid that had been one of the guard escorts to Auntie Wort kept replaying over and over in Left Ears mind. Shoot her again, as if it was a common every day thing to shoot someone full of shrapnel. Then again, the Wort Clan was a family of pirate raiders, so perhaps it really was an everyday thing. That didn’t mean that JoNs had to like it. Yeah, she wanted someone’s rear end in a sling, but it was unfair to take it out on the first crewmember that ticked her off or something. She could be a hard case at the best of times, but the problem here was that her inner predator was on full prowl mode. You really couldn’t explain what this meant to someone who came from a non predator gene pool so it really was best to completely avoid the non-predators, at least for the next little while. So, JoNs had opted for the most logical inanimate object to put a serious beat down on: one of the sparring bags down in the gym. The impromptu pick up workout served two purposes – Left Ear would get an idea of how much recovery time she’d need to get back up to her fighting form prior to her injury, and she’d be able to work through some of the frustration that she felt. She really couldn’t pin down exactly why she was frustrated … if anything she should be happy that she was still alive after being shot point blank in the neck shoulder and arm by a shrapnel shotgun, right? Left Kick. Battle Yowl. Right Punch. Yelp. Whoops. She had stretched out that sore shoulder a little too much. Eh, time would heal all wounds, both the mental and physical ones. Right? … and she’d get rid of this scared feeling that caused her to keep looking over her shoulder soon. Sure she would. The five foot five inch muscular panther cat had ended up down on one knee, with her paw clamped to the crease in between her neck and shoulder waiting for the soreness to pass. JoNs was winded, panting, and had violated at least some (if not all) of her standing light duty and physical therapy orders from Wydown by engaging in the workout so soon after her medical discharge. She was weak from the low impact twenty minute beginners workout, but she had needed the physical outlet. The workout had taken the edge off of her more predatory leanings and mindset, and that was important. She still wanted that vekken Boganary kids butt in a sling though. It had taken all of her control not to pounce on him during the exchange in the shuttle bay and take some retribution out of his green scaly hide. The little b*stard totally had it coming. “Uh … sir?” Left Ears brown furred head came snapping up, and her deep green eyes latched onto the young dark skinned crewmember that had approached her. About three of the gym goers had approached the Caitian after the yelp of pain, but the dark skinned one had obviously been elected the speaker for the little group. “I’m fine. At ease and continue your own workout crewman, thanks.” The dismissal hadn’t been rude, but it also hadn’t left any room for a protest from the human woman or her companions. The dark haired security ensign merely shrugged and nodded at the executive officer and went about her own business, motioning to her two buddies from the sciences department to back off from the feline senior officer. Within two minutes, Left Ear had recovered enough to end the exercise jaunt with some basic cool down stretches, and then she left the gym in a whirl of tail and brown fur. Fifteen Minutes JoNs entered her quarters, stripping off the dark gray sweat outfit that she had worn since being discharged from the medical bay as she walked over towards the sonic shower. When the lean brown furred cat moved her sleek and muscular frame into the small shower alcove, a trail of discarded clothing had been left in her wake. The sonics felt like heaven as the invisible waves battered against her sore and still healing body. The cat emerged from the shower and barked a command for the computer to read out the latest text mails that had graced her inbox. As she dressed in a crisp and clean duty uniform, the feminine monotone voice of the ships computer verbally read out the inter ship text mails according to Left Ears personal settings: high priority to low priority, with special tags on any request that required her personal attention. Satisfied that none of the updates required an immediate answer or in some cases were already being taken care off thanks to Commander Teykier, JoNs verbally ordered the computer to stop the playback and store the outstanding updates and clearances that she needed to look into herself on the personal Padd set nearby the desk terminal. The download took all of one minute, and then the data Padd obediently pinged when the wireless data transfer had been completed. She swiped the data Padd off the desktop with a wide and powerful paw, and started moving towards the doorway to the quarters, stopping only long enough at the long mirror set on the wall in her sleeping area to get one last look at herself. She wore the standard black duty uniform with charcoal gray shoulders and red collared under tunic denoting her command branch of service. Her rank pips were affixed to her collar and the Starfleet communicator symbol was affixed to the outer left chest area of the outer tunic. The two pieces were, as usual, spotlessly clean and gleamed in the dim lighting of the quarters. Half of her panther-like face was shadowed, while the other half was visually clear and showed in the reflection. It was an accurate visual description of how the feline currently felt about herself and her current state of health. Shadowed, scared, and fighting to recover her former sense of personal safety and security. JoNs quickly exited her quarters, for fear that being idle for too long would cause her to think way too much. Ten Minutes Left Ear’s stomach was still a bit sensitive due to her recovery, and the medications weren’t helping, so she opted to grab an energy bar at the mess hall and kept on going. Actually, she really didn’t have an appetite if she was honest with herself. The energy bar would do for now until she could snork down some real food. Five Minutes The executive officer made a beeline for the medical bay; the feline wanted to be there when the Ziers were permitted to see their daughter, and Left Ear also wanted to see her godchild. JoNs passed two maintenance techs who were working about halfway down the corridor on a blown out console panel. She assumed that the panel had been one of the casualties when the Boganary cloaking device sent several system surges throughout the big warship. The feline and the two human technicians exchanged polite nods with one another as the XO sauntered past them. Just as Left Ear passed, one of the engineers dropped an air gun that had been in use to cool down some fried circuits. The “gun” was usually employed to cool down any gel packs that were running a bit hot so an engineering team could get a proper data reading on any sort of gel packs or fluid based control wires that were acting up or overheating. The air gun impacted with the decking and went off, released a highly concentrated stream of air; since the stream had nothing to stop it, such as the interior of a hot panel, the retort was loud within the corridor and sounded almost like the contained retort of a projectile weapon. The commander unfortunately reacted to the sound, whirling around and going into a defensive crouch while simultaneously slamming her good shoulder into the bulkhead, getting something solid against her back so she could meet the oncoming threat. Her paw flew to her side to grab at a non existent phaser, and the personal Padd clattered to the decking and skittered a few steps away, and her claws flared out. Her ears flattened and she growled. The engineering repair team froze, and both of the men stared in confusion at the brown furred executive officer. Neither man was inclined to approach her as they exchanged a fast multi directional look between the two of them. The taller of the two techs, a middle aged man just beginning to gray at his temples, cleared his throat. “Sorry ‘bout that Ma’am; I seem to have the drops today.” As quickly as Left Ear had “winked out” and had the post traumatic reaction to the loud retort of the repair tool, she came back into reality so to speak and offered a terse “carry on” to the two technicians before scooping up the data Padd in a mildly trembling paw and then retreating into the confines of the medical bay. Scared, and running.

Revenge is a dish best served cold. This was perhaps one of the most overused and clichéd lines in recorded literary history. It had been used and quoted and re-translated in some form or another across the universe in dozens of the collected works of various species. But, Left Ear JoNs was currently a proponent of this cliché, and she wanted some big time payback against the Wort Clan. Particularly, she wanted payback against the little goblin bastard that had shot her. The feline first officer was dwelling in dangerous territory. She wanted to shove a phaser under the jaw of the yellow skinned Boganary that had ripped the shrapnel into her hide. She wanted to pull the trigger. A phaser on stun at close range to the head would more then do the job. She didn’t care that the bastard had looked no older then sixteen seasons of age or so. If you ran with a pirate crew, then you had better be prepared to take the consequences. “Commander JoNs? We have both the photon torpedoes and regular torpedoes ready to go for the shipment.” Left Ear turned toward the enlisted crewmember, cocking her panther-like head to one side and regarding the male petty officer with an intelligent light in her green eyes that hid the darker portion of her personality that was threatening to take over. She still wore the dark gray fleet issue sweat outfit that she had been wearing when she was discharged from the medical bay. The feline commander had been ordered back to light duty only by the chief medical officer, and even with the short burst of activity since she had been back on duty, if it wasn’t for sheer force of will and adrenaline the feline would be flat on her ass right about now. The attack had taken a lot out of her, both physically and apparently psychologically as well. She knew that she was wrong to have these feelings, but she couldn’t stop or help herself. Corizon had assigned her to handle the ordnance portion of the preparations, and she had made it a point to visit the armory to check on the progress. The Caitian feline was going through the regular motions as a reflex reaction, and nothing more. She could interact with the armory crew, she could spew orders, she could keep track of who was doing what in the armory, she was well aware that most of the hoopla rescue prep was to get the baby back, and this was the most important factor of the whole rescue operation. But revenge was the all inclusive thought in her fore brain, not the rescue of a little baby. Not anymore. Showing no outward signs of the private hell that she was currently experiencing, she purred a bit and spoke to the armory ordnance officer. “Good. Co-ordinate with the team getting the shuttle stripped down and clamp the ordnance where you can on the shuttle’s weapon grapples. The rest can be sent down separately if it comes to that. Thanks for your help Petty Officer; just standby and be on alert for the second set of orders that'll send the operation into full throttle mode ... " She wanted to go planet side. She wanted to join in the hunt. She wanted revenge. There had to be some way to achieve what she wanted. The need and desire for revenge was truly a dark place in one’s own mind, and Commander Left Ear JoNs kept slipping further and further down into the proverbial mental abyss.

09.21.08 Excalibur Mission Update: TBS: 30 Minutes We come down to the wire: Boganary Patrol Fleet: - The patrol ships are still en route back to the Thicket planet Thicket Planet-side:- The Away Team (Morris, Cloud, Victria, Garrison, dougt) has braved deep caves, dire spiders (Citrus’s Big Cousins), wolves, swamps and jungles to emerge near their relative target position to breach the Wort Compound if needed. Excalibur: - Bridge: Captain Corizon engaged the clan leader and raid mistress, Auntie Wort, in negotiations. Her terms are simple, by Boganary terms: she wants shinies for Baby Julie Zier. - First, she wants the Excalibur. Hell. No. - Finally, the negotiations wind down and the bridge personnel come up with alternatives for the exchange: a stripped down Runabout, some torpedoes and photons, and Engineering is set to work on fabricating shiny emerald gems. Various bridge personnel (Tia, Ramson, Admiran, JoNs, Khal, Laural) are involved with the quickie roundtable discussion and resulting preparations, including the first officer who has been released to light duty by the CMO (Wydown). - We have a new Pakled Engineer, and Commander Admiran did not have her arrested despite the fact that she really isn’t supposed to exist, at least paper trail wise. All is right with the universe and such.

Happy B-Day Commander J! w00t!!

09.14.08 Excalibur Mission Update: - The Away Team is having a simply marvelous time on the surface of the wretched planet that Auntie Wort calls home. Roving wolf pack type creatures, grimy caves, rat dung underfoot, large webbing, spiders. They press onward through the cave network in order to reach the planetary base. - The Boganary Patrol Fleet has stopped chasing the decoy probes and has altered course to return to the planet; the Excalibur mission to rescue Baby Julie is now on borrowed time. - The cloak is still semi-working, and the Excal remains hidden for now within the inner perimeter of the subspace/energy eddies Thicket surrounding the planet.

09.07.08 Mission Brief: The Excalibur remains in cloaked orbit above the Wort Clan's homeworld. The Wort Boganary fleet is still off chasing our sensor probe decoys . Engineering works to keep the Boganary cloaking device stable and functioning. The away team prepares to beam down to the surface to do some recon and prepare for possible combat if the Baby negotiations with the Wort do not work. 080907_Excal_Chat_Log.txt

Flegm sighed dejectedly as he completed yet another turn around the sentry cat walk that encircled the upper wall of the inner courtyard. The Thicket base was impossible to breach, as evidenced by the bleached and dried out bones littering the jungles and swamps that encircled the structure. He never got any action. A keening wail drifting across the tepid air caught his attention and he powered up his binoculars to take a look toward at the western perimeter of the outer defenses; a dire boar had gotten its leg caught in a section of the round razor wire encircling the property, and the beast would not shut up. Flegm only had to wait a few minutes until another predator of the swamp world responded to the cries – a dire spider. The spider wasted no time in dispatching the boar creature, itslong fangs piercing the hide of the pig like creature and pumping it full of toxic venom. Flegm had purposely waited for another, larger predator to appear. Why waste two bullets when one will do? The yellow skinned Boganary guard brought his antique projectile rifle up into a firing position, rested the stock against his shoulder, and then squeezed off a shot. The bullet struck the spider square on through one of its many eyes, sending green brain matter spewing out of the side of its stunted head; the eight legged thing was dead before it hit the ground. He turned his attention toward his two companions, Spitz and Sputz, and smirked. “Looks like I got the Clan meat for dinner and some new skins for clothing. We can also use that fang walker’s venom to replenish the venom darts and projectile toxin bullets. Take the transport flitter out and haul both carcasses back here. The Auntie Wort will be pleased with this month’s supplies, especially since they practically fell on our doorstep and we didn’t have to send out any patrols to scout for the supplies.” The two younger and green skinned Boganary had been waiting patiently on the ground below the senior guard’s perch for their orders, and now they both immediately jumped into action. There was a brief shoving and tussle match between the two junior guards while they both figured out who would get to drive the flitter, of which Sputz won. Soon, the hover flitter had been powered up and exited the compound through the massive double steel doors inset into the wall encircling the base proper. Flegm watched the flitter make its way through the secondary and outer perimeters for a while, before continuing his sentry duties around the courtyard cat walk. He sighed again to himself. Chief Guard. What a complete joke. If it wasn’t for the Auntie Wort’s stupid son, Flegm would be better off. As a senior cousin, he had direct access to the leadership of this Clan. But, the Wort son blocked his path to power. So what if he had returned with all those medical supplies from that Excaelyburr space ship? So what if he had brought back that pink baby thing as a prize? Auntie Wort would realize in time that Flegm was a Boganary to be reckoned with. He just needed to make a good deal … make some good trade. Then maybe one day He’d be in charge of the Wort Clan. This Clan was holding him back … maybe another clan would pay him what he was worth, and he’d be involved in all the clan stories about the exploits the Chief Raiders went on and participated in. That was where the real action and loot was, with the raiding parties. Not here on the swamp world guarding the compound. Flegm again stopped his patrol walk long enough to raise the binoculars to his beady little and rheumy eyes, focusing the visual scanner beam on another section of the outlying swamps and jungles. He really didn’t expect to see anything of interest though. Nothing interesting ever happened here at the planetary base. No one could breach the Thicket compound. Getting past all the space eddy whirlies that surrounded the planet itself was hard enough. And even if a crew of space raiders managed to make planet fall on the surface, they had the swamps, jungles and spiders and boars to deal with. The radiation was also a problem. The Boganary thrived on it, but most other species could not stand to be exposed to the radiated atmosphere for a long period of time. And if a raiding party didn’t die of the venom punctures from the dire spiders, then they had the land mines and razor wire surrounding the compound base to deal with. A malicious grin spread across the chief guards Goblin like features as his binocular sensors panned over the outer perimeter; the forgotten bones of hapless adventurers were spread our even thicker on this side of the compound. It was impossible to breach the Wort Compound. Suddenly, the distant echo retort of one of the perimeter mines detonating interrupted the inner thoughts of the senior cousin and guard. Flegm sighed again. “Those two idiots set off one of the pepper nail mines again … “

Excalibur Medical Bay Doctor B’Etor Patterson and Commander Left Ear JoNs Commander JoNs carefully rolled over onto her side and sat up, swinging her cat shaped hind legs over the side of the bio bed. She felt marginally better. She was no medical doctor, but if she had to take a guess, her pressure dropped dramatically when she was on the bridge. Dr. Patterson came out of the lab, obviously still slightly angry. She chose to ignore the already messed up Ziers and stopped, looking up at the XO. 'Is she retarded? Cats are not this dumb!' She thought to herself as she moved to her, standing to face her, arms crossing her chest, head shaking with a look of 'move and I will use a force field'. The commander stopped in mid stretch and eyed the, um, presence in front of her. "Doctor, I am not going anywhere. And I apologize for pulling rank on you earlier." "You are moving. Moving constitutes a plan to go somewhere. Lay back down. You saw what happened the last time and how many times you gotten up? God, don't you patients ever learn?" Her voice was naturally low, but had the excited slightly higher pitch that Klingon women got when they were upset or angry. She thought about she said and for a moment, looked guilty. She had just told the 2nd highest ranking officer of the ship off. Her black eyes flickered between anger and fear. JoNs habitually rankled at the tone, and her pressure went up again. "Doctor, control yourself. I know …," the feline stopped in mid sentence and shook her head again as her pressure continued to mess with her physical recovery, "... I know that I have made a couple of recent mistakes; it's difficult for a warrior to remain sidelined." She listened to the XO try to explain why she had once again, tried to run, at least to B'Etor anyway. She heard the "warrior" part and her black eyes crossed as she looked up at her ridged fore head crest, then back to the XO. "Sorry sir. I just, should anything happen, I am the doctor responsible." Left Ear waved a paw gently in the air in acknowledgement. "I know. If something were to happen to a patient on your duty watch, then that would be an unfortunate consequence and you would be the medical doctor responsible. For myself, again, I apologize. I can't speak for, nor do I necessarily condone Mister Tr'Lorin actions of leaving the medical bay even if I screwed up the same way, but if I were to take a guess, I am sure he is assisting Commander Admiran with the cloaking device repairs." The feline senior officer lowered her voice so as not to further alarm the grieving Ziers who comforted each other out in the ante-room. "We do need that device to be in working order Doctor. The sake of this rescue and recon mission depends on the camouflage that the cloak affords us, and the Excalibur and her crew need every advantage that we can beg, borrow or steal to deal with these Boganary pirates.” She looked at her and shook her head. 'Kahless, are all patients that dense?' She looked over at the Ziers as she mentioned the cloaking thing. That meant nothing to her. Yes, Julie meant almost as much to B'Etor as she did to her own parents. B'Etor delivered her, heck she was christened an Auntie. But the point was, he wasn't cleared to leave the medical bay, and as XO, JoNs should know that as well. "I am not saying what either of you do is not important. I am saying that neither of you are in any condition to work a half shift, never mind a full, and I guarantee you that Lieutenant T'Lorin is not capable of working on that cloaking thing in his condition. The slightest wrong move, he could be dead. I can't have that on my head. I can't." She looked away, feeling that evil emotion that made her eyes water. That one feeling she hated the most, upset sadness. Both of JoNs's ears flipped back in distress; she had never really been good at the whole comfort thing when someone started getting all emotional on her. It was usually easier to just bark orders and tell a security or pilot squad to hop to it. But, with that said, it was an executive officer’s responsibility to look after the well being of the crew. So, JoNs dove in head first with the current issue that had seemed to manifest right here with Patterson. "Look, El Tee. I mean, B'Etor. It was the Lieutenant's decision, and mine, that we leave this medical bay before we were both cleared. That most certainly is not your fault. Marius will be fine, and if he's not, his department head will inform the sickbay." The feline purred a bit before continuing to speak. "And, everyone is worried about the little one." Patterson did not look at the XO as she spoke. Being comforted for an emotion she neither felt, nor referred was bad enough, but it being one of her patients and the XO on top of that, she felt like an idiot. She shook her head, now looking at the XO. "I am not a child. I'm just … all these feelings around me, and no one listening to me. I may be the lowest ranked and newest member of the medical team, but I know my job, I do it well, and I cannot allow patients to just walk in and out of here as they please." Left Ear did another stretch and reached around to place a paw on her lower back; the old injury had flared a bit, and the muscles had grown sore with the stress of the general situation. "I agree with you. Regulations, and respect for the medical staff, are very important. Look, Patterson - you are a member of this crew and this medical staff. That has not changed, nor will it change." She listened to her and a vulnerability came out that was seriously getting on the half-breeds nerves. She felt things that she had never felt before and it bothered her. "I know it won't ... but no one respects it. I am just a little mini Lieutenant and the new girl. Why listen to me, when they are higher ranking. But the second the get a paper cut, they come running to me to fix it..." She shook her head, not sure why she was venting this to the XO of all people. 'In for it now, stupid. She doesn’t care. Shut up.' She thought to herself as she spoke. A low growl issued forth from Left Ear. Not necessarily a reprimand, no, more like a warning. "Medical is typically a department that gets no respect. If all is going well, you are not needed. Then, when the excrement hits the oscillating device and someone gets injured, suddenly the Docs are very popular. My brother came up through the medical ranks before he retired, so I'm pretty familiar with the ups and downs of being a medical officer. However? Don't get too far down into the dumps or I'll kick your keester back up. You don't strike me as the self pity type El Tee." See? The feline could totally be a counselor. Yes. She looked at her, shaking her head. "I'm not! I mean, beyond the anger fit where I almost tore Wilson's liver out and crammed it down his throat. I do not show emotion. I am either neutral, or easy antagonized. I don't know why I have been so emotional lately." She thought she knew why. She had not seen her boyfriend in a month. She didn't know where he was, or if he was even alive. She chalked it up to that. "Besides, sir. No disrespect, but I think I could crush you." The brown furred Caitian tried a bit of humor; it was rare, but the event was known to happen. She sized up the taller and more muscular half Klingon medical doctor. "Doctor, I have no doubt that if I tried to leave this medical bay again, I'd have to deal with you." A fanged smile completed the statement. "Not me, sir, I would let Dr. Wydown at you. You know she is worse than me." She looked at the XO, sizing her up as well. "Sir, please lay down. The CMO comes out, you are in trouble for sitting up, never mind leaving." It was about then that Left Ear noticed Patterson's bloodied knuckles. "What in Hades is this?" Immediately, despite her own healing injuries, she went into Exec Patrol Mode. B’Etor looked at her hands, seeing the dried blood. She shrugged like it was nothing. "Emotion, again. It happens a lot lately." She moved to the sonic sink, cleaning the blood off, apparently last time she didn't do a good enough job. She then took the dermal regenerator and ran it over her knuckles. The brown furred panther merely leveled a concerned gaze at the medical officer, although the look was also one of ‘don’t give me any nonsense’. "If this type of episode continues, I know I don't need to tell you to seek some sort of medical attention Doctor." She heard her and looked down at the blue uniform, thinking how oxymoronic that statement was. She then nodded. "Alright, I will seek medical treatment if you lay down. Don't make me sedate you to make myself look good in front of the CMO." "Ah, right." The recently recalcitrant executive officer obediently laid down on the bio bed; she tried to say something more, but within seconds the mornings events caught up to her and she was in a half sleep. "See, why you don't leave AMA? Good night sir." She watched her quickly zone out into the land of sleeping kitties. She then started updating her bio scans, uploading them to the computer. "If they just listen ... They would get out quicker."

09.01.08 USS Excalibur NCC-2004 C “Hypocrite” “You, my dear Commander JoNs, are a hypocrite.” The muttered statement was low and held the purred rumbling undertone of self rebuke. She gently placed her left paw on a section of her right arm that was particularly tender after her little excursion this morning and rubbed at it, trying to soothe the sting. Left Ear JoNs was again lying flat on her back on her assigned bio bed with a damp cloth over her eyes and an intravenous attachment sensor affixed to her arm that monitored her condition. She had pulled some rank, gone to the bridge to check in on the general situation as the crew prepared to either breach the planetary base or start negotiations with the Wort, the leader of the Boganary clan that had taken baby Julie Zier and brought her to this Thicket planet. JoNs was being nosy, just like a regular cat if she really wanted to admit it, and gone to the bridge. And, as a result of the minor escapade she had almost ended up flat on her butt right there on the bridge when the first wave of mild dizziness hit. How many times over the years had she lambasted a crew person or junior for not following regulations to the letter? How many disciplinary reports had she typed up when one of the security officers in her squad or under her command had committed some sort of infraction? There really had not been many incidents that required her to take this sort of action, but there had been enough incidents where she was able to recognize the difference between an honest mistake and willful defiance. She had done the full on defiance act and bolted from the medical bay. Twice. And she was the Executive Officer. This was not a very good example to set, no it was not. The fact of the matter was that Left Ear had never been this badly injured before, let alone requiring this amount of recovery time. It was hard for the normally rough and ready feline to be this cowed, or rather, to feel this out of touch with her duties. Security officers always had to be on alert twenty four seven for any sort of potential threat, and obviously the former Caitian security grunt turned XO was having a rough time reconciling that long established conditioning with her current recovery time. It was still no excuse to be a jackass and flaunt your authority and run off when you were still half sick though. All in all, it was a hard learned lesson; she had gotten woozy on the bridge and been forced to ‘retreat’ back to the sickbay The feline exec could also tell that she had royally ticked off Doctor Patterson (fear the six foot, half Klingon medical doctor who has access to the enemas, totally), and would no doubt catch hell from CMO Rue Wydown at the very least for this latest shenanigan. What are you JoNs? A first orbit space cadet? Buck it up, and get a smart notion for a change, and finish your healing process. Stop acting like an idiot. You know better, and you need to start using your common sense again. Do you want to further injure yourself, maybe to the point that your right shoulder or arm or what have you are forever compromised? Would you be happy with a medical discharge from the Fleet because of your own stupidity? Didn’t think so.

08.31.08 Excal Mission Update: TBS: (Not applicable) Next sim picks up right after this one - The decoy probes are still leading the Boganary defense Fleet on a wild goose chase. Planetary Insertion teams - comprised of Security Lieutenants Garrison, Victria, Doug.t along with Marine CO Major Cloud Makisu and Chief Marine NCO Sergeant Major Matt Morris - are all prepared to beam down to the rather icky surface of Auntie Wort’s planetary base world. The teams are outfitted in the necessary environmental gear to try and combat the environmental perils of the Wort planet. - Lieutenant Victria wisely pointed out that with the abundance of local flora and fauna contained on the surface world, the insertion teams should be able to move without being detected on sensor by the Boggies. - Commander Tandaris Admiran worked to keep the Boganary cloaking device from, well, imploding or something. This is of the utmost importance, because without the benefits of said cloak, the Excalibur would be up you know what creek without a paddle and be exposed within the borders of Boggie controlled space let alone lurking on Wort’s doorstep. - We had some sickbay escapes! Lieutenant Commander Marius Tr’Lorin absconded to engineering to help Admiran with the ministrations to the cloaking device, while Commander Left Ear JoNs bolted to the bridge to be a nosy cat and check in on the planetary op as well as the general situation of the Excalibur. - But, those officers foolish enough to escape medical without the proper clearance shall be Le Smited every time! We have a rather ticked off Doctor Patterson waiting for the missing patients to return, and Tr’Lorin got a taste of the Corizon Dice when the cloaking device backfired and he got caught with another electrical jolt, and JoNs re-checked her self back into sickbay when she started feeling a little woozy on the bridge. Bad Kitty and Bad Spy. Fear the PO’d Patterson. - Maria Zier had a mild panic attack while waiting on word about the mission op to rescue Baby Julie. Thankfully, she was already in the medical bay when this occurred.

No life? Nah - the correct terminology is "we really like what we do here and are dedicated hosts". :-)

MISSION BRIEF: Excalibur cast and crew has decided on a course of action. We will simulataenously distract the Boganary fleet, while sneaking in cloaked and inserting a team to the surface in case our attempts at getting the kid back through negotiations doesn't work. Engineeing has finished the modifications to the probes to act as decoys and Excalibur is preparing itself to enter the system under the protection of our oh-so-reliable cloak. 080824_Excal_Chat.txt

08.24.08 Excal Mission Update: MISSION BRIEF: Excalibur cast and crew has decided on a course of action. We will simultaneously distract the Boganary fleet, while sneaking in cloaked and inserting a team to the surface in case our attempts at getting the kid back through negotiations doesn't work. Engineering has finished the modifications to the probes to act as decoys and Excalibur is preparing itself to enter the system under the protection of our oh-so-reliable cloak. TBS: 5 hours - Let’s saddle up and boot it all up people. - The first tier of our assault/negotiation/rescue plan has been enacted. The Decoy probes are launched, and the majority of the Boganary defensive Fleet (such as cruisers and light assault craft) take off to chase the decoy probes once they begin broadcasting, mistaking the probes for actual ships that have encroached into the Boggie territory. - The Excalibur sets out further into Boganary held space under cover of the cloaking device. The inner layers of the Thicket perimeter are less turbulent then the outer defensive layer, but there is quite a bit of metallic debris floating about. - As the Akira class ship approaches the Boggie homeworld of the Auntie Wort, the sensors record what a lovely vacation spot the planet is: an irradiated planet, nasty animals such as irradiated boars, man sized spiders, overgrown jungles and swamps. The whole place is just plain icky. - Did I mention the large spiders? Why does this crew always run into stuff with more then two legs? Giant scorpions, spiders, generally icky bugs. I mean really … oh wait, that was my out loud voice wasn’t it? Captains Note: Next week we insert our ground team and continue scans while we wait for them to get in position to try and negotiate. The AT will be ready to beam down at the top of the hour next week.

08.14.08 USS Excalibur NCC-2004 C “Le Ouch” The medical bay was relatively quiet as the first shift doctors, nurses and technicians bustled about their daily business. The resident patients of Tr’Lorin and JoNs were either in the process of recovering or well onto the road to recovery respectively, and thankfully no new patients had been admitted within the last few hours. The visit from Commander Teykier had been a welcome distraction, and JoNs had gotten fully caught up on ships business of the day thanks to the green skinned Orion senior officer. As of a couple hours ago, the Excalibur maintained a relatively stable position within a non turbulent pocket within the gaseous confines of the Thicket, tactical approach plans were being tentatively considered, and engineering had a new cloaking tech toy. It was hard for JoNs to be somewhat removed from the general day to day administrative processes of running the big exploratory warship, but the situation was out of her paws. What she could do was make a complete recovery and offer support where she could to the senior staff and officers. With a smirk and a healthy sense of humor, the feline XO likened the experience to a backseat shuttle driver in temporary residence in the medical bay. It was one thing to be shot with a phaser or disruptor and then have the damaged areas on your body repaired or in the case of disruptor use, the damaged sections of the body were re-grown. But, when dozens of pieces of shrapnel were ejected from a crude projectile weapon to then impact and slice into skin, muscle, and bone, those sections of the body were permanently compromised and the medical processes that were to be employed in order to fully heal the individual had to be adapted for this particular type of injury. The physical therapist calmly went about his business, stretching out the Caitian’s damaged muscles and tissues so the healing process could continue moving forward. As her right arm was stretched up and over her head, her shoulder rotated with the movement and Left Ear JoNs grunted in pain and tensed up. Both the outer and internal wounds of her shrapnel injury had long since been repaired thanks to the marvels of modern medical technology, but in order for Left Ear to make a full and complete recovery, the compromised muscles of her right arm, chest and neck needed to be worked up to their former strength level prior to her wounding at the clawed hands of the Boganary pirates. “You’re being a real trooper ma’am.” JoNs admired and appreciated the fact that the Starfleet physical therapy profession, on the whole, had to deal with cranky and hurt officers about ninety five percent of the time. And these therapists had to maintain a professional demeanor and cheerfulness through all the flack they probably usually got from an annoyed patient. But, she couldn’t help feeling surly, and the pain emanating outward from her shoulder and neck was just not helping matters. And so, mindful of the fact that she was a cranky and in pain officer, but also well aware of the fact that she had to at least try and maintain her own professionalism, JoNs tried to maintain some semblance of decorum as the evil therapist kept torturing her. “Mister Ibrahim,” an involuntary hiss of pain escaped through her muzzle and bared fangs as a particularly sore cluster of muscles decided to stretch, “I’m at your mercy and currently lying flat on my side on a bio bed as you move my arm to all sorts of unnatural angles; call me Left Ear and drop the ma’am and sir crap for right now.” There was a time and a place for protocol and rank, and if Ibrahim was going to be her semi permanent therapist as she continued to recover, she wanted to have a comfortable working relationship with the man if at all possible. The dark skinned petty officer let loose with a bark of laughter. “Sounds like a plan. And it’s Elijah. Mister Ibrahim is my father.” He also made a mental note of the fact that she wouldn’t hesitate to speak her mind and that would help in the long run with her therapy sessions if she really started to hurt or was feeling markedly better. “Okay sir, I need you to sit up upright on the edge of the bed, legs dangling.” He slowly moved her arm downward and then released the appendage from the grip he maintained on it. The brown furred feline groaned and rolled over onto her back, swinging her cat shaped hind legs over the edge of the bed and then sitting up to complete the rolling move. Today she wore a khaki colored pair of fleet issue sweats that were emblazoned with the logo and insignia of the Excalibur’s air group and the color outfit complimented her fur tone nicely. The hooded sweat jacket had been stripped off in favor of a slightly darker hued sports bra for the physical therapy session. Considering it was just shy of fifteen hours since she had been injured, Ibrahim again made a mental note that her coordination was vastly improving and adjusting, and would put that in her therapy progress report. He surmised that her being a feline had something to do with it, as they tended to mend faster then the humanoid population. Hey, if you have the genetics conducive to healing, go for it. Either that, or the executive officer, like most cats, was good at hiding her injuries. Elijah suspected that this species predilection was also coming into play, and he didn’t care how far removed she was from the domesticated cat genome. The petty officer again grabbed her injured arm in a firm but gentle grip and moved it to another angle, intending to work both the injured shoulder and injured neck muscles simultaneously. Left Ear let loose with a mrrowled yelp of pain as he manipulated the appendage again to that particular position, and Ibrahim immediately backed off with the pressure and let go of the feline senior officer. Her ears went completely flat on her head and stuck out to the sides. She screwed her eyes shut and gritted her fangs as the wave of pain in her shoulder and neck crested and then dissipated; her claws and popped out and she gripped the edge of the bio bed with one big paw while the other free paw clutched at her neck. Ibrahim stepped to the side and calmly entered commands into his data Padd recording device, giving the commander some semblance of privacy while she recovered from the jolt of pain. Only about two minutes passed and then her breathing slowed and her eyes opened again, so this was a good thing and it showed some progress overall. Ibrahim offered the Caitian executive officer a smile. “Okay now? Obviously we are done with this session, but I have to say sir that you did wonderful. Keep this up, and we’ll be done in no time.” He put a dark hand out in an offer to share a handshake. JoNs offered a mild, though genuine, smile to the enlisted officer and put a paw out (minus the claws) to return the handshake gesture.

MISSION BRIEF:The Excalibur has navigated into a 'channel' of sorts where the surrounding space is clamer. Long range sensors may have detected the planet where Wort is based out of, and possibly where the Baby is. Corizon wants to know more before charging in.TBS was thirty-minutes. Note: there is an issue with chat spacing and formatting. Apologies. If a better copy becomes available, it'll be posted. chatlog2008_08.txt

08.10.08 Excalibur Mission Update: (see end for log notations) TBS: Three (3) Hours - General Information: The Runabout mapping team and escort fighter ships have returned to the Excal, and the ship maintains a standard holding pattern in a calmer section of the Thicket were we are temporarily protected from the worst of the metron gas pockets and metallic debris floating through the moat like defense area. - Engineering: Commander Admiran engaged his very under the radar and secret Boganary cloaking device, which caused a minor power drain as it was engaged. Most of the crew as well as the Captain (are we entirely sure that Corizon will let Tandy maintain contact with his hide? I’m sure the engineering officer is quite attached to it and stuff) were all surprised by the sudden power loss. The bridge crew was even more surprised when Tandy announced this little fact over Corizon’s communicator badge that we have a Boggie stealth cloak. We can haz cloaking devize. - Medical: Lieutenant Tr’Lorin regained consciousness in the medical bay. Commander JoNs remains under observation by the medical staff but her progress is going smoothly. Doctor Rue Wydown continues to ride herd on her patients, although this is rather like herding cats. Ha ha! Okay, I’ll stop now. - Bridge: the officers manning the bridge got into some tactical speak as plans - ranging from covert, diplomatic, and full on frontal assaults - were tentatively laid and discussed as to the various methods of approach to the Auntie Wort Boganary home world were tossed around and in some cases thrown out the airlock or left floating in the ether. Indeed, there are no easy solutions when it comes to a tactical situation such as this. Damned if you do and damned if you do not, correct? 1.) Captain Corizon is hesitant to send the ship forward any further into the Thicket, or any sort of scanning probe, as both actions could give the ships current position away. A frontal assault is also not very appealing from a Boom-age standpoint, and both shipboard casualties as well as Baby Julia being caught in the crossfire are strong detterents. Regardless, the Dameon still orders all auxiliary flight craft as well as the starfighters on combat ready standby with further instructions to CAG Lieutenant Ramson to pull personnel if necessary. 2.) Commander Laarell pointed out that inactivity may work in our favor now so as to not be detected by any sort of Boggie sensor network, perhaps intertwined within the framework of the Thicket? 3.) The fact was also brought up that having the cloak is indeed a tactical advantage to be exploited and possibly will enable the ship to be navigated without showing on Boggie sensors, but navigation of the Thicket itself is another matter; large floating pieces of metals tend to not care what they bump into and rend, cloak or not. 4.) Ransoming the child as Boganary motive was put out by both Lieutenant Victria and Corizon. 5.) Lieutenant Tia pointed out that the Boganary seem to be brawlers at the basic level (and I do tend to agree with this assessment. Brawlers? They shot me and took a chunk out of my hide; of course they are brawlers!) and may respond in kind if the Excalibur were to take a diplomatic venue in an effort to negotiate with them for the release of the baby. 6.) Lieutenant Khal threw out a tactical blurb that perhaps the Excal should lay in wait to ambush a passing Boganary vessel; again though, we have the issue and possibility of the child being caught in the crossfire. 7.) Both Garrison and Victria represented security during the discussion, and jumped into the conversation where necessary with their field experience and opinions. Log Notes: Some insight into the Boganary Cloaking Device, courtesy of Acting Exec Teykier and Commander Admiran in their Log “Power Struggle” http://www.stsf.net/forums/index.php?showtopic=16607 And, in “Sleeping Dog” Captain Corizon dwells on the subjects and ideas brought up during the bridge tactical meeting; the crew needs to get our missing crewmember back as well as broach the subject of the Crownstone: http://www.stsf.net/forums/index.php?showtopic=16608

To: Personnel Office Starfleet Command, Earth From: Captain Ah-Windu Corizon U.S.S. Excalibur, NCC 2004-C Re: Promotions ---------------------------------------------------------- This communique is to serve as notice that effective Stardate 0808.03, the following promotions have been approved. Promotions: Lieutenant junior grade Tia Lyrenna to full Lieutenant Ensign B’Etor Patterson to Lieutenant junior grade Congratulations to you all.

08.03.08 Excalibur Mission Update TBS: Thirty (30) minutes - The Runabout mapping team continued to try and chart a path through the treacherous space surrounding The Thicket home world of the Bog clan headed by the Auntie Wort. - The Excalibur encountered some nasty turbulence, with metron gas pockets exploding all around the ship. Eventually, chief helm officer Khal and the auxiliary pilot on bridge duty managed to steer the big Sovvy-class ship into a relatively safer section of The Thicket. - Engineers Tr’Lorin and Admiran were tooling around with some technology, and Tr’Lorin was injured when the Boganary cloaking device that Commander Admiran purchased at the Aisse Three space station malfunctioned and shot out an energy arc. CMO Wydown answered the call for medical assistance. Security officers Victria and Garrison had some discussion regarding their past encounters with one another. Doctor Maria Zier finally succumbed to exhaustion and worry over her missing baby. Captain Corizon ventured into medical to check on his recovering XO, and both command officers decided in the interest of security that neither parent Zier would be accompanying any away team dispatched to rescue Baby Zier. While working to decipher the recovered data core from the abandoned Bogarany ship, Commander Teykier and Yeoman Condacin had an interesting encounter with what the Boggie would consider adult entertainment. Get your funky moves on, Boggie. - The Excalibur and her crew slowly but surely are closing in on the home world base of this particular Boggie clan.

08.03.08 Excalibur MISSION BRIEF: The Excalibur is on approach to the Thicket; Onion continues to search through the Bog files, to varing degrees of success. Kallah and Tia continue maping. Kitty tries to break free again. Note: Crew promotions and the inductees into the Order of the Knights of the Roundtable ceremonies are located at the end of the chat log. 0808.03.txt

::settles in on her bio bed and calmly observes Docs Patterson and Wilson:: ::takes notes on the junior officers:: remember you haz a guest recuperating. And I think we all better behave around CMO Rue. :-P

07.27.08 Excalibur Mission Update: TBS: One (1) Hour - The Away Team (SEC Garrison, ENG Admiran, and Marine Morris) continues to investigate the abandoned section of the Boggie vessel. - Commander Teykier attempts to access and decrypt a data core recovered from the vessel. - Lieutenants Ramson and Tia pilot a Runabout retrofitted for a map and scan mission of the Thicket. The energy waves and eddies coming from the area are unpredictable, and the incoming data is processed by the Lieutenants and then streamed back to the Excal for analysis. - Doctors Alex and Maria Zier speak with Captain Corizon regarding their missing child. Corizon was resolute that the safety of the child comes first and the prime concern is recovering the baby. - Commander JoNs had to deal with a miffed CMO Wydown for an attempted check out of medical before she was cleared to do so. In addition, Wydown had a heart to heart talk with Ens. Patterson about the half Klingon doctor beating herself up emotionally for not being there to defend the baby. - CMO Wydown + The Look = Bad sign. Remember this equation kids and you’ll be happier and live longer. EDIT: Captains Note: The AT will have beamed back to the Excalibur by our next sim. And we will have started heading for the mapping mission.

Mission Brief: The Excalibur continues to examine the debris of the left-behind fuelsage of the Boganary vessel. Commander Onion has beamed back to the ship, where he cardboard cutout will begin working on examining a data core found. The rest of the team continues looking for anything useful. Ramson and Tia's work on a mapping method is almost ready. In medical the parents remain restless while it seems the Kitty might live after all. 080727_Excal_Chat_Log.txt

I recommend "Shell Game" by Melissa Crandall. A wonderful TOS novel focusing mainly on an away team who had been dispatched to a creepy space station. A good adventure novel.