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LeftEar JoNs
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MISSION BRIEF: Excalibur's junior and senior officers have gathered in the cargo bay for a debrief from Captain Corizon, who's finsihed his own debrief with new station commander Alexander Calypsos and the new commander of the Gamma Quadrant Command, Vice-Admiral Misha Abronvonovich.
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Nice Intel stuff. w00t!
Captain Clark seems like a real desk jockey - I'd lke to see how he'd react to an actual field assignment. ;-)
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As for Leonard Nimoy, Spock did mention that he was "emotionally compromised" at the loss of Vulcan and it's people. Perhaps Nimoy thought a shellshocked, more emotional portrayal of Spock was necessary.Emotionally compromised aside (considering it was part of the story/plotline) my impression of Nimoy as a watcher of the movie standpoint was he ran like heck with the part and had fun.
There was just something there, like a little twinkle in his performance; I really noticed that so called twinkle in the end movie exchange with Quinto Spock.
Even in the cave scenes with Pine Kirk, I don't know, I just got this vibe of "yeah, I'm one of the veteran Originals, but I'm happy to be the passer of the torch here".
The Spock/Nimoy Prime, New Cast, and Trek 2009 thing was much better handled this time around, IMO, then the passing of the torch to Next Gen in Generations from Kirk, Chekhov, and Scotty.
The Generations scenes come across as a bit contrived or unnecessary, and Capt. Harriman is written as a complete incompetant. Granted, I do believe the original scenes started out written for Kirk, McCoy (Chekhov has the most noticeable "McCoy-esque" lines) and Spock, so that might be a factor as well with different actors taking on the lines for Spck and McCoy.
Overall, Trek 2009 is a good start for passing the torch without going the way of stupid.
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06.14.09 Excalibur Mission Update:
TBS: One Week
- The Excalibur will require one month of repairs and refit.
- The crew will be temporarily re-assigned to the USS Union (Excelsior Class).
- Our assignment is to retrieve abandoned Scorpiad salvage; the technology is considered highly important.
- The command staff, crew, senior line officers and department heads all have one week to grab some shore leave and get settled into their new assignment and ship.
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“That’s correct,” Abronvonvich said, having read the same report. “At least a month. Calypsos has good people working for him – care of Captain Sorehl’s hard-work – but getting a new bridge module in from Alpha, and some of those other repairs will take time.”The bridge damage isn't that bad. It's a wee little hole breach and stuff.
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06.07.09 Excalibur Mission Update:
TBS: Short
- The USS Excalibur, battered and damaged from our Gamma Quadrant adventures, docks at Camelot Station.
- The crew is practically climbing the bulkheads, eagerly awaiting some much needed shore leave. Per CAG Lt. Cmdr. Kallah Ramson, she has pilots who will plot courses of escape soon if not granted shore leave. Meanwhile, Lt. Victria wonders if the balance of power (Al-Ucard and Scorpiad civil war) within the quadrant will compromise her own ship board position.
- Vorta Lexin takes possession of the Founder communication device and disappears in a purple transport haze to scurry back to his Council after speaking with Captain Corizon.
- Certain other power elements (Vorta Semil) in the quadrant express a desire to base personnel to not be left out of the so called Founder action.
- Corizon departs the ship for debrief with station command personnel; next sim, he will be on his way back to the Excal, and the senior crew (all players) will be gathering for a debrief from the Captain.
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MISSION BRIEF: This sim picks up back in Regular Universe. The Excal is on the last stretch of a long journey home to the Camelot Station. Both ship and crew are weary, and docking at the the station will be a welcome change of space for our Fleet officers. We will be docking at the end of the sim, give or take.
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Tonight will be our last night in Pirate Universe. Next week we will pick up in the regular universe, with Excalibur a few hours out Avalon.
MISSION BRIEF: Excalibur is en route to Romulus. Corizon has revealed that he does, in deed, work for the Romulans, who saved their asses from Halloway. This revelation has, apparently, cost him much, and he is in a very, very foul mood. Repairs to the ship continue, and perhaps Doug won't die this sim, maybe, possibly. Prolly not.
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MISSION BRIEF: 03.29.09
Excalibur maintains orbit over the Class M Planet. An abandoned planetary-based spaceport and city are the only evidence that the planet was once inhabited. In addition to the City and Spaceport, the planet has Wilderness, Beach, Grassland, Desert areas, and Oceans, all similiar to Earth.
Salvaging teams from SEC, SCI, ENG, MED have been sent to the surface to scavenge any supplies and explore. MARINES are on ground recon. PILOTS are patrolling the upper atmo or providing supply and personnel transport where needed. Small Shore Leave parties have also been authorized for all Departments.
SCI continues to monitor the pulsar star, which keeps having energy spikes; some crew have been complaining of headaches - are they related?
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03.30.09
USS/SS Excalibur NCC-2004 C
“Raiding Party”
Abandoned City and Ground Spaceport
Unknown Planet, Gamma Quadrant
Current Timeline, USS Excalibur
While she had never considered herself a modern pirate, the Ex Oh of the Excalibur had to admit that the scavenging “raid” on the abandoned spaceport had gone down five by five; she hadn’t gotten any reports yet on the official inventory numbers, but had heard by word of mouth and ear to ear that most of the ship departments had found items on the planet and within the abandoned space port and buildings that would be of use to replenish their dwindling and exhausted supplies and equipment.
She did one more go round on foot of the immediate perimeter area that she had ended up in after parting ways from Doctor Wydown; she had wanted to do a quick walk through to make sure no teams had dawdled in this section. Satisfied that she hadn’t missed anyone in this cluster of buildings, the brown furred Cait decided to implement the next stage of the ground based communications call out.
Commander Left Ear JoNs tapped at the communicator badge affixed to the upper left chest area of her black uniform tunic and spoke with a decisive tone.
“This is Commander JoNs to all ground teams within the vicinity; all landing parties have been recalled to the ship, repeat, all parties are to return to the Excalibur ASAP per Captain Corizons orders. All shuttles, ground patrols, air patrols, and scavenging personnel are to bug out immediately from the spaceport and city … “
Another Time, Another Place
Alpha Quadrant, Outer Colonies
Unknown Timeline, SS Excalibur
“ … c’mon you damn worthless scuts! I can’t believe you lot weren’t shot years ago, y’all are so slow! Move your tails, grab what ya can, and drill anyone that get’ in yer way! We got a call back order from Corizon and the local Imperial Fleet patrol is on its way! Move move move! You don’t make it back to the rally point we ain’t waitin’”
Commander Left Ear JoNs aimed and fired her disruptor pistol decisively, hitting a small propane tank that provided energy for a few of the nearby colony buildings; the tank promptly exploded, knocking back four militia guards and a couple of volunteers that had been moving in on her section of the assault grid with the resulting concussive blast.
Visually, JoNs could track her people at a glance by the clothing that they all wore. Most, like her, wore some sort of civilian clothing with a design reminiscent of military or militia service: black cargo trousers, jacket or cargo vest, mock long sleeved turtleneck or short sleeved mock turtleneck, tee shirt. Other males wore just a vest, females might wear a halter top and flak vest, and still others wore a combination of civilian and military issue clothing. All clothing was in varying states of disrepair, and could be fraying or patched. But for the most part, the Excal crew kept themselves and their clothing neat per the Captains Articles. The one common factor among all the landing parties was that the crew all wore some kind of ‘pirate bling’: waist sash, do rag on the head, arm band sash, or neckerchief, all in varying colors and such. Those who had bare skin showing might also have several identifying tattoos in bold tribal, skull, and various other patterns.
The SS Excalibur had swooped down on the planetary colony of Sigma Four, making orbit and sending down the assault teams in less then fifteen minutes. They had been steadily roaming and raiding the colony buildings and supplies for over an hour, reducing the colonists and the colony to little more then fractured pieces. Those who had fled were still alive; those people who hadn’t retreated were being mercilessly cut down. Things had moved and were continuing to move quickly as the dozen or so landing parties that had been deployed continued to loot the colony structures.
Everything was considered fair game, from portable computer systems to jewelry to weapons; what couldn’t be carried individually was slapped with a locater patch and beamed up to the warship in orbit.
The brown furred executive officer ran from her cover behind a dome shaped colony structure and darted across the street, firing the disruptor pistols she held in both paws. Her yowled battle cry echoed and reverberated, bounding off the small to medium sized buildings that surrounded the street. One of her shots hit another hapless militia solider in the leg, while the other two were driven to cover.
She dove into the alleyway set among a few of the colony structures that had she had intended as her escape route, and continued at a full run back towards the beam down site to re-connect with the rest of the teams.
“Left Ear!”
The panther like felinoid whirled at the call of her name, pressing her back against the brick wall of the grimy alley way to make herself less of a target, and stood with her disruptor at the ready; her reflexes then gave way to recognition as Kansas, her young cousin, came bounding toward her on all four paws.
Like Left Ear, the golden furred leonine Cait wore a black civilian military cut outfit of jacket and trousers, and a red waist sash that matched the older Cait’s. She had a medium sized travel pack strapped to her back, containing the loot that she was able to carry.
“Kitten – where’s your squad? Why aren’t you with your squad? I told you to stay close to Garrison and the Al-Ucard!”
The younger feline panted as she spoke, and was obviously concerned about something. “Garrison, Mordan, and the rest of our squad’s all heading back to the beam down point, but I had to slip away and find ya! We got problems! They’re younger kids. I was sweeping one of the buildings with my assigned partner, and we were about to cut and run, but now he’s going all bat sh*t over there … I …. I can’t stop ‘im by m’self!”
“Show me, go!”
JoNs put up her weapon, slipping it easily into the low slung holster on her right hip. She dropped down and took off after the younger feline, making good time and faster time using all four paws.
The two felines were flashes of exposed gold fur and brown fur, zooming across the battlegrounds; no one really paid them any mind, as most of the teams were interested in last minute booty or getting themselves back to the beam down point, and the two females didn’t run into any more local resistance either.
The screams reached her sensitive ears before actually arriving at the rectangular off white structure, and Left Ear picked up the pace. She went upright on her hind paws and tore through the opening that had been blown out of the entry way, pulling her weapon out as she did so. The interior of the structure was decorated according to the classic design pattern of an Earth elementary school, with lockers lining the walls along the corridor at intervals and various posters that announced upcoming school plays or events. She continued following her younger kitten, and passed several classrooms to either side of the hallway that were empty and a few offices scattered in between the class module areas on the way to the target area. There were also about three bodies scattered at intervals along the route; evidently, some of the school administration staff had at least tried to put up a fight.
They reached the intended room and Kansas skidded to a stop, sliding past the open entryway to flatten herself on the far opposite side of the open doorway. The older panther feline didn’t even stop to get a tactical read on the situation, and bolted right into the classroom; Kansas moved to take a flanking position to watch the elder Caits back.
Little desks for the kids were strewn about the room. Hardcopy books along with digital Padds had been tossed haphazardly here and there. About a dozen or so kids – oldest looked about nine, with the youngest about four or so – were huddled together to one side of the room. They were a mixture of full Humans and humanoid appearing species such as Trill and Bajoran. An older blond haired Human woman, probably the teacher, lay dead from a disruptor shot to the chest, her eyes wide open and unseeing.
Jarrett, a former Imperial security guard turned pirate, whirled at the entry of Left Ear and Kansas. He held a bloody dagger in his hand, and it was obvious that some of the kids had cuts on them from the weapon.
“What the hell are you doing Jarrett!” Her angry growled question was almost unrecognizable with the snarl, and her tail lashed ominously. She slowly removed her disruptor pistol from its holster, simultaneously thumbing on the heavy stun setting,
“Just following orders Sir and sweeping my assigned structures.” His callous leer was prominent, and his gray-blue eyes held a deadness within them that came easily to the unrepentant and wicked.
An odd gleam entered into the Commanders green eyes then, and her entire demeanor went stone cold; she exuded her own wickedness at that point, but it was of a different type of darkness then Jarrett’s “Cutting kids is part of our mission? Wait, never mind.”
Left Ear just up and drilled the Excalibur security guard in the hand with a flash of plasma stun shot from her disruptor; the dagger flew from his hand, and he gripped his hand as the pain erupted. She then took a shot at his chest, knocking him down hard to the ground and rendering him fully unconscious.
A few of the kids screamed, but others had a flash of relief show across their faces, knowing that the immediate threat Jarrett had posed had been disposed off. The remainder of the kids were too shell shocked to have any reaction either way.
Kansas immediately moved to the children as the commotion gave way to a stillness that permeated the air along with the smell of blood and the ozone of the dissipating disruptor fire. The leonine felinoid spoke in low tones, trying to be as soothing as possible to the beings that were only a few years younger then she was. The young Midshipman directed the eldest of the little group, a brown haired boy, to lead the others to one of the abandoned offices and wait there for what remained of the colonists to come to the school and check on them.
While the golden furred feline was engaged in this, Left Ear hurriedly worked on Jarrett, stripping him of all available energy weapons and bladed weapons (they could be employed for her own personal use or redistributed or sold for profit on the ship, after all). The elder JoNs then popped one of her claws out and proceeded to run it horizontally along the left side of his face, just under the eye socket bone, drawing blood in the process and scarring the pale white skin. It was an ancient Caitian marking of an unworthy clan member, usually someone who had shown cowardice in battle. In recent years this practice had translated over into the galactic mercenary clans of the Caits.
She fished some titanium grade restraints - plundered from the local militia sheriff’s office - from her own travel pack and effectively bound the rogue crew member. Her final act was to slap the hapless and unconscious man with a locater beacon after resetting it for a wideband Imperial signal; Jarrett’d be nice and ready for the Imperial patrol when they showed up, like a birthday present even.
Marooning Jarrett was really no risk to either Left Ear or the Excalibur crew. The junior level crew members were not privy to the decisions of the command team, or any future raiding plans: it was easier to keep the crew in line when they were only told about an upcoming job just prior to the mission launch. And even if the Imperials tortured Jarrett for any information on the whereabouts or information on Corizon and his crew, he wouldn't be able to tell the Feds anything that wasn't already recorded on the holo net news feeds.
The pirate rebels had been making quite a name for themselves these past few months; who knew that stealing an Imperial warship could be so much fun and so profitable?
Left Ear had remained quiet as she went about her work, but as soon as the kids left the room and she finished with her ministrations to the former Excal security guard, she turned to her guardian child and junior officer. “If anyone asks Kitten, he was killed by the local militia authorities, you read me?”
“He had a bad streak; he won’t be missed, by me at least. Aye Sir.”
The two feline cousins then exited the building and double timed it back to the beam down site, both running on all fours. After a couple of kilometers, they crested a hill and spotted the site where most of the Excal Raiders were re-grouping or dragging the spoils of the colony raid to.
At the appearance of the Ex Oh, several of the pirate offices raised their photon rifles or energy pistols in the air, discharging them and yelling out calls of victory. Kansas and Left Ear both went upright onto their hind paws in response to the hoo rahs; Kansas continued running forward across the now shorter distance and jumped into the arms of one of the big engineering guys, while Left Ear fired her own disruptor pistol into the air in answer to the general atmosphere of the adrenaline infused celebration. Nut cases aside, the colony raid had gone down five by five, and the supply hall would augment their ships stores nicely.
JoN didn’t see Corizon among the group yet, so she assumed he was tying up some loose ends with the colony assault and hadn’t made it back to the re-group site yet. Or, the Dameon pirate captain was as dead as a burned out dilithium crystal and she’d be free to take over command of the ship and crew.
Indeed. Five by five.
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MISSION BRIEF: The Marine teams have checked out the planet and said it's cool. So the first sets of away teams can now go look for things. Just about everyone has been granted some sort of leave/shopping permission. Science checks out the star.
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03.25.09
SS Excalibur NCC-2004 C
Buccaneers of the Blade
“Hackers R Us”
Commander Left Ear JoNs and Midshipman Kansas JoNs were both currently located within the offices of the main security department. It was later in the second shift, so the offices were mostly deserted, with one lone crewman on watch duty who gave the ships executive officer a wide berth on general principle.
The two women would be undisturbed, which was just how Left Ear liked it. Every few minutes or show, she would visually scan the surrounding office area for any sort of unwelcome intruder, out of habit. The lighting was dimmed, and her natural eyesight was more then capable of picking up any sudden movement towards them. In the pirate business, the threats could come internally from your own crew as well as externally; if you weren’t alert, you would be dead before you hit the decking.
The two Caitian felines were working at a desk in one of the private offices, set just off the main communal work area; the department offices were clean and well maintained, unlike some of the ships that Left Ear had served on. She watched quietly as the younger Kansas manipulated a Starfleet security program, with the results from the calculations showing on the holo-monitor screen set on the top surface of the desk.
The information display was a jumble of biographical information, numerical coding, and letter based coding, and grids and charts. It was almost a foreign language to Left Ear, but she recognized the launch program at its core operating procedure as a security application that was usually used to track suspects who gave off some sort of bio signature.
The sixteen year old midshipman understood the various computer applications perfectly, and manipulated them with an ease that usually only came to those who had been working with programming for a solid fifteen years or so. Her paws, though gawky and wide at this young age, flew with an inborn agility over the keyboard inset as she entered line after line of corruption code, enabling her to freely manipulate the remote data base that her program had accessed.
It should be noted that Kansas was not a computer expert, and if she did happen to possess such a skill level, she would probably be serving within the ships science department rather then the security force. The Kitten did however possess a solid working hacker knowledge of various civilian and military computer system applications, and could remotely hack into a system and use any inherent programs to her advantage; she had picked up a good portion of her skills by studying with Left Ear’s father, Va’Rirr, back home on the family clan ship. And Va’Rirr was very good at what he did.
The young leonine feline’s ears suddenly want all radar scope, swiveling this way and that as her excitement level spiked. “w00t! We got tone Commander! Permission to fire the torps and take out some text?”
The elder panther-like Cait smiled at her cousin. “Permission granted Middy. Send those files into digital oblivion.”
The files in question all showed side by side in bright green on a black screen background:
= = / = = Imperial Fleet Command = = / = =
= = / = = Criminal Profiles/Known Pirates = / =
= ** = = Caitian/Feline Species = = ** = =
JoNs Clan, Multiple Files, JoNs Clan
= = / = = Imperial Civilian Galactic Police = = / = =
= = / = = Criminal Profiles = = / = =
= = ** = = Feline Species = = / = =
“Aye sir!” With a juvenile enthusiasm, the Excal middy entered the needed commands and the combined multiple family and single individual criminal records of the two felines as well as their entire immediate family were wiped out of their hardcopy existence in the Imperial data files. If any local agency tried to do a search on the JoNs family, it would be a much harder task, and the wipe gave mercenary JoNs family as well as their pirate officer kin some leeway by not having Fleet criminal profiles that could act as a noose around their collective necks.
“That’s it?”
“Yep. Doesn’t matter how many codes and passwords Imperial headquarters changed or rerouted after we hi-jacked this starship; there’s always gonna be some sort of digital back door or program that can be tweaked so’s we can get where we need to be in the root systems. That’s why we could never remotely access from the the clan ships, Fhirebrrand and Falyn Anjel; we needed a ship that was designed and built with the same systems as Earth command, like the Excal. These are some bitchin’ toys we have here Guardian.”
The young one had her tail all corkscrewed from happiness.“So … whaddya want me to do now? I have about twenty minutes before the main security programs in play at Fleet Command start to figure out that the systems been breached.”
Left Ear went quiet for a moment and then her deep green eyes lit with a gleam and her fanged smile turned a tad bit evil.
"M’Vess, I’ve told you before that you really freak me out when you get that look … "
“Hush. Pull up the Criminal Bio files for Corizon and Rue; wipe whatever you can before the fail safes kick in and start to trace you.”
“ … ya don’t want me’t wipe all the crew Bios I can get my paws on?”
“No way; it’s not profitable for us if we do that for the whole crew with no payment.”
The kitten kept her attention on the monitor screen as her paws started to click away at the keyboard and search out the personnel files that the older panther had requested, but her ears flipped back in ‘silent cat speak’ to let Left Ear know that she was still interested in more of an explanation.
“This is how it usually works Kitten: I put the word out among the crew that we have access to and can do some damage to biographical profiles stored in the Fleets criminal database, and that they contact me if they are interested in having their past wiped out or in some cases rearranged. I negotiate a price, they pay me, and then you do your thing.”
“ … they wouldn’t come to me?”
“No; the client comes to me because I’m your Sponsor. That’s how it works. And, I take three quarters of the payment, and you get the quarter share. That share’ll go up as you get older and advance in the ranks and start to branch out on your own business.”
“Well, how come we don’t just erase all the Bio files for the entire crew? There ain’t that many of us, I mean, what – two hundred if that? I can do it in just under two hours jus’ as long as I keep bopping around the system so’s the security programs at the command site can’t trace me.”
“Listen Kitten, you have to understand that this crew of reprobates ain’t the same as the all for one and one for all mentality that our mercenary clan ship works on. This crew is full on pirate, they are not blood family, and the all for one and one for all functions on a much smaller concept. Everyone on board this ship can be very dangerous should they choose too. Instead of being based on a big group, the honor code in play among us is based on smaller groups and individuals who share a mutually convenient alliance with one another, and we all collectively watch our backs.”
“So we have an alliance with Corizon and Rue?”
‘In a manner of speaking. Or I should say that I choose to foster an alliance with the two of them, and that extends to you by default. As long as the Captain keeps paying me and doesn’t go space happy or starts to make dip sh*t decisions, I’m loyal to him and I back him up. And, Rue seems like she’s from a good stripe, and you never want to tick off the chief doctor of any boat you’re serving on Kansas – the medicos are damn valuable. They're the ones who heal us when we get sick or hurt.”
Left Ear swished her tail once before continuing. “As far as the rest of the officers on this boat are concerned? They’re all easily replaceable by the next officer under ‘em. They can pay us for our wipe services.”
The two cousins lapsed into silence as Kansas worked and her elder Guardian watched her young charge work. The panther’s eyes flicked to the digital countdown timer that was visible in the lower left-paw corner of the computer holo-monitor screen and noted that the young one only had about four minutes left.
“Kansas, you’re cutting it pretty close … “
“It’s good. I’m ….. almost ….. there…..Now!”
With a last paw flurry of activity across the keyboard, the golden furred feline backed out of the Imperial computer systems, throwing her paws in the air to celebrate with a happy yowl.
The ships Ex Oh was a bit more sedate, instead choosing to favor her charge with one of her rare though genuine smiles and ruffling the younger ones mane affectionately with a big and powerful paw. “Nice going Midshipman, now let’s go grab some chow.”
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MISSION BRIEF: Excalibur has begun the four month journey home to Camelot with their prize in hand. However, the quest has come at a price -- Excalibur has lost several crewmen, including an entire fighter squadron of pilots, our supplies are running low and there's a whole in the bridge unit. Using the maps we downloaded from the Satarimi Archives at Miramo, we're headed towards what we hope is a space port that we can resupply at before we can head home, otherwise we're going to have to look for more suppplies. TBS was one month and we're nearing range of finding out if the Space Wal-Mart is still open or not.
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03.15.09 Excalibur Mission Update:
TBS: 24 Hours
- The Excalibur arrived at an abandoned spaceport, no one shot at us and there was no BOOM-age. We're off to a pretty good start.
- There will be both shore leave and scavenging parties sent out to check out the spaceport and what the site may offer in way of supplies and entertainment.
- The battle damage hole in the top of the command bridge is *not* that big, and the emergency force fields are handling the gap nicely. It's not like the damage is comparable to, oh ... I don't know, a part of Australia getting blown up (see Agincourt Mission Updates). G’DAY!
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03.13.09
SS Excalibur NCC-2004 C
“University of Criminology: Pirate 101”
Written By: Pirate Rue and Pirate Left Ear/Kansas
Rue was usually found in the newly acquired ship's sickbay, exploring each corner, cabinet and alcove for hidden treasure. This time she's delving into the pharmacological stocks with glee. “Look! A proper chemists! Do you know how much coin we can get for this on the black market? Too bad I might have to use it on your lot. I wonder how much the Cap’n will let me keep?”
The entry way to the medical bay whooshed open, admitting the brown furred Caitian First Mate and her young Midshipman grade cousin; the younger one was being led by the upper arm and did not look happy to be there at all.
"Oooh, look at this." Picking up a bottle, reading the label. "Fantastic. I haven't been in a properly stocked 'bay in ages." Rue shifted bottles and boxes around, mentally inventorying both the contents and the value of the medicine stores. So distracted in her glee that she missed the doors of the bay whooshing open.
The dour panther-like feline cracked a slight smile when she caught sight of the obviously involved and snooping medical officer that serviced the pirate crew of the SS Excalibur. She kept her paw clamped firmly around the golden furred teenagers arm while she called out a greeting to Rue. "Rue! You seem to be having fun with your new toys and supplies?"
Rue slowly twisted her head in their direction, a huge lopsided smile on her face. "It’s like Christmas, mate. And Santy's brought me the mother lode." She took another look, another fast calculation, and then shut the stores away. "What brings you lot down here?"
Left Ear JoNs pointed a big and powerful paw at her skinnier cousin, who resembled a lion from the Earth African plains. "She does. Needs to be checked over per standard crew physicals. Orders. Make sure we don't have any sicknesses or parasites spreading among the crew. Some of this bunch can fall by the wayside with the hygiene if you get my drift."
The youngster was shorter at five foot three inches when compared to the older Cait's five foot five inches. She was skinny without being malnourished and hadn't yet had an adult weight growth; she was all knees, elbows and big sloppy paws, but her compact frame held the bravado and attitude typical of a rebellious teen.
"Oi! Tell me about it." She pinched her nose, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Come this way then. Let me try out me new toys." Rue patted a biobed as she passed it. "Up here, Kansas, luv. Won't take but two ticks."
The younger Caitian blanched. "Whoa! Ticks? Wait a freakin' minute...as a doc you should know that ticks is bad for any kinda felinoid species ..."
Left Ear merely growled softly at the young one’s disrespectful tone and choice of words.
"No luv. Just a figure of speech. Means I'll be done in two ticks of the clock. Two seconds?" She patted the younger Cait on the shoulder. She opened the tricorder, again marveling on updated and expensive equipment before attempting to use it on Kansas.
The sixteen year old tentatively clambered up on the bio bed to sit as she had been instructed while the ships executive officer, who was in her mid thirties, moved off to a discreet distance to lean against a nearby bulkhead and observed the proceedings.
"So, Kansas, how you be feelin' of late?" Rue took the scan. She didn't mind the audience of the Cap'n's first officer. She'd learned long time ago not to argue with their intrusions, least she be accused of hiding something.
When Kansas wasn't looking, she glanced back at Left Ear, who had a more personal attachment to this crewman than the others to see if she could catch a sign or two. The panther merely gave Rue a quick head nod in reply; the medico was one of the crew that the XO trusted, especially with the Kitten.
As for Kansas, the Cait gave an honest, if not blunt answer. "Well, I was fine until I got hijacked to come here." Then, a curious ear flipped back. "You have a bitchin' accent going on there Doc."
Left Ear merely did a palm to forehead motion at the language.
"Oi, you think so, luv?" She glanced at the analysis, and then shrugged at the display.
"Well, yeah, whatever. I know there's a lot of different crew here."
"Aye, that we do." Rue prepared a hypo spray of antibiotics. "All sorts. Some with fangs, some with skin, some with little wee spots. Diverse creatures with a lot of diverse skills won't you say?"
“Some of ‘em couldn’t find their arse if it fell off though, ya know?”
Left Ear called out a warning "Kansas .... " from her out of the way vantage point.
"But Left Ear! I was guarding that corridor that the officer from engineering was working in and the dude almost electrocuted himself! I swear to the gods, he's a few thrusters short of warp seven!"
"Apologies Doctor; the Midshipman still hasn't grasped the pirate code concept of keeping her mouth shut." The brown furred elder Cait winged a look at her young charge and middy officer.
"Aye, so I've heard." She used two fingers to spread the fur of the younger Cait's fur, and then depressed the hypo spray. "She best be careful. Or she'll land herself and the rest of these scalawags in a world of hurt."
The golden furred feline’s ears flew back in annoyance at the non direct statements directed specifically at her coming from the elder pirate officers. "It can hear you know."
The ships first mate picked up on the change in accent and change to the tone of the chief medico’s voice, and her brown ears swiveled to a full forward attention while a little amused smirk danced about her muzzle. Go for it Doctor ...
"Look, thank you Doctor Rue for the checkup and such, but I got better things to do on this boat. I know exactly what 'm doin'." The leonine youngster hopped down confidently from the bio bed, careful with her agility to not nudge the Excals medical officer.
"Yes, but are you really listening?" Rue's rougher accent disappeared abruptly, her tone now taking on the lilt of the perceived pronunciation of a proper English lady.
Kansas, meanwhile, looked at Rue with a classic head cocked to once side gesture. "You been sniffing the medicinal alcohol Doctor? Endurance test? I'm a feline species. We're fast and can take care of ourselves. Hello?”
"Then ye'll like this one." She started to lead the way out of sickbay. "Come, come. I've got a new toy to show you." She was practically skipping with glee. She led them down and around twisting corridors eventually to the holodeck door. "Oh, I've got plans for ye. Simply delicious. Our own playground without paying a bloomin' credit."
Left Ear fell in behind the little procession, giving 'tude-tastic Kansas various little nudges with her paw to keep her young cousin moving along behind the ships chief doctor.
Rue pressed a few buttons on the panel. "You'd never imagine the smut I found on this thing when we arrived." She shook her head. "Such a waste. Anyway. Here we go. Luvly little obstacle course to test ye reflexes. You been keepin' up on your studies, Kansas?" She's jumping topics, of course, to keep her off guard mostly.
"Smut? Oh, now there's a party .... ack!"
The brown furred Ex Oh connected a paw in a swift swat to the golden furred midshipman’s trouser seat. "Don't even think of commenting on that. And no doctor she has not; there's an informational memo from the security chief that she hasn't even looked at yet."
And off guard Kansas was, both from the topic switching from Rue and the general abuse from Ms. Twitchy Paw Left Ear.
"That's not.........good." There was another mental check mark made. Another imperative reason why the Doctor was concerned about the younger girls attitude, considering it could potentionally put them all in danger. And Rue worked too hard to maintain her freedom and off-the-grid status to have some upstart mess with her future.
"Come on, in. In you go." She escorted them into the room. The room filled with an obstacle course of balance beams, tight wires, spinning devilish looking whirlishs, heavy balls hanging from the ceiling....in other words a regular gauntlet of items.
The kitten’s ears swiveled this way and that as she visually took in the obstacle course and her tail dropped to the decking with a noticeable 'whump'. Completely honest, she turned to her guardian and said, "I don't care if you whack me again; seriously, did we step into the twilight smut dungeon or somethin'?" To Rue, she turned and said, "Are you sure you erased all of those programs?"
"Oh, come on," Rue hopped up on the nearest balance beam, walking across it as if she's walking across the floor. She paused on one foot, raised the other in the air, arms outstretched for a balance. "Don't tell me you're chicken about a silly Balance test." She turned on the ball of one foot. "Bwack, bwaaaaaack bwack bwack." She teased.
Kansas puffed out, literally; her tail and neck fur flared in response to the heckling by the medical female. "I'm not afraid of anything..." The youngster chose another beam nearby the one that Rue perched on and promptly hopped up on it with a grace that belied her outward gawky-ness.
Left Ear chose a discreet spot to stand out of the way of the various holographic equipment and leaned against a ‘wall’. She settled in to watch and said to the Doctor, "Rue, whatever you need to do, go for it," by way of giving permission to the medical officer to handle her errant cousin in whatever way she saw fit.
Rue did a few more stretches on the beam, making her look far more acrobatic than her age led one to believe. "Then get a move on, Kitten." She did a pirouette, then advanced course further up. "Hope you studied your Physics of Pirating on this course though." She winked at Kansas.
With a determined huff, the young Cait leaped upward onto another section of the course, paralleling Rue.
"One, objects at rest, stay at rest....but objects in motion...." she kicked one of the hanging balls in Kansas's direction.
"Whoa! Son of a bi - ..." The Excal middy dove for another platform on the course to get out of the way of the incoming ball.
"Stay in motion." Rue dodged the swinging ball as it came back in her direction by sliding down into a split on the balance beam, the ball swinging harmlessly above her head. "Nice reaction there, Kitten. But the energy you used to dive....why?"
Said Kitten stayed on all fours up on the flat platform that seemingly hung in mid air and regarded Rue over the edge of it. "Diving seemed like a good idea? I had somethin' comin' at me!"
"Aye, but ye exerted more forced than ye needed. Whot then?"
Kansas spared a glance at her Elder Guardian, who was, like, no help at all, and then turned her attention back to the CMO. "I have no idea; it was the smart thing to get outta the way. And, wait and see what happens next."
"Aye, good reasoning. Yet sometimes subtly is sometimes a wee bit better solution. Save ye energy and overreaction. And ye also need to keep a keen eye on ye opponent." Rue slid up gracefully to a standing position. "You should have seen that comin' a mile away in here." She motioned to the room and the gauntlet gadgets. There was a slight glance down to Left Ear, where she winked at the XO when Kansas wasn't looking.
The younger JoNs eyed and then leapt for a double beam located to the right of the platform she currently resided on; she flew though the air in an arc that indicated the grace with which she would move when she hit finally her adult years.
Rue launched another ball, knowing this time the young one was more aware of her surroundings.
Kansas stayed where she was and adjusted her position on the beams to avoid the ball as it whizzed by.
“Better." Rue's tone of voice made it clear that the lesson wasn't over with. "Keep going, little one. Balance boards are next level up." Rue followed on the opposite side.
An inquisitive ear cocked towards Rue, "You move pretty fast for an old lady let alone a human!", then she paused, "...that came out wrong. That sounded way better in my head..." she scurried quickly onto the next level of the upward course.
"That's a complement, luv. They used to say there's no such thing as an old pirate. I am to prove them wrong." Rue climbed to the next level. Of course, in her thoughts the sentence ended with If I can get you in line with the rest of us before you get us all killed. The doctor stood in a relaxed stance on a wobbly bridge. "So, second rule. Are you ready?"
The leonine kitten nodded once at the human doctor.
"Second law. Each action has an equal and opposite reaction. Can ye put that into pirating terms?" She took a few careful steps across the bridge.
JoNs braced herself on the opposite side of the bridge and watched Rue carefully pick her way out onto the wobbly plank and rope bridge. “Uh … if we don’t do our jobs, we don’t get loot?”
"That's one way to look at it. But what if, just if, we do our job...but, we decide...eh...we don't like our cut. Then what? We take a little......extra."
Kansas cocked her head to once side to indicate that she was listening to the medico.
"What then? What type of reaction would you expect from that action?" She picked her way to the top of the bridge to the next platform.
The elder JoNs remained leaning against the "wall" of the program and followed the progress of the two of them as they went higher and higher on the holographic obstacle course.
The Kitten had grown up in a family mercenary environment, were all for one was one for all and any money and loot was shared equally and for the betterment of the family clan ship; out here, within the pirating community, it wasn't that cut and dry all the time.
"Well ... I'd have to make sure that I had some good backup if I took from another pirate, and it'd be even better if the person I took from didn't know about it at all. I'd say they go looking to even the score?"
"And if it was taken from you?"
“I'd be pissed off and not like it at all." Her tail lashed through the air as she kept pace with Rue on the course from the other side.
Rue lifted herself up onto a high wire. "So retribution would be the reaction, yes?"
"Aye."
"So, let's talk about another situation." She grabbed a balance pole, positioned her feet on the tightrope spanning the course and started a slow cross rope. "Whot iffffff....ye were told to stay on script and yet ye improvised. Whot could be the consequences?"
"That's easy. If it was an order, and you don't follow, you're punished?" Her inquisitive green eyes looked furtively from side to side; she had already showed some signs of this habit.
"Certainly. But whot if the mission went well overall, ye still strayed from the script, no harm done, yeah?"
"Aye! Like, it'd be really bad if I went rogue or somethin' during a mission and joined the other side."
There's improvisation, and then there's bravado, Kitten. Those that improvise do consider the action and the reaction. Those who are trying to prove they're hot stuff.....well...they tip the balance of the whole operation into the enemies hand. I've seen one seemingly insignificant action get people killed."
Though it was true that the young JoNs was brimming with the right kind of pirate potential, she also showed how young she truly was by puffing out her chest and her next statement to Rue. "I'm pretty good at what I do."
"I didn't say that you weren't, young one." Rue took another couple of steps onto the wire. "Whot I said was that each and every action has a reaction. Positive and negative. And if ye wish to be an old pirate, then ye need to think carefully about what you do."
Left Ear smiled widely at the chief medical officer, showing her sharp fangs, from down below. She agreed wholeheartedly with the lesson.
The younger feline, meanwhile, plopped down onto her rear end, sitting crosslegged on the surface of the secondary upper platform that she had ended up on and was completely quiet as she really thought about what Rue just told her.
" ... and I won't make it there if I keep doing what I'm doing? Left Ear... uh, I mean, the Commander keeps telling me I need to get my head in the pirate officer game."
"Listen little one. She's not telling you this because mad at you." Rue paused. "Okay, so maybe in the heat of the moment she is. But it's because if ye don't, you jeapordize not just her safety, but all of us here. Every bloody arse here." She put the bar down, then slid to a sitting position on the wire. "Ye'll got potential luv. Just don't let it go to ye head."
The true personality of the young Cait - yes, she would always be a somewhat headstrong, sometimes sarcastic, and hell bent for adventure individual, but basically had a good heart - came through then, not the swaggering bravado that she had put on since joining the pirate crew of Corizon. "Okay, I won't, and I'll be more careful. Thanks Doc!"
"Okay, get out of here, ye scalawag. Lesson done for today." Rue jerked her head towards the door. "Mind the gap on your way down, I turned off the safeties in here." The Doctor lied, then glanced down at Left Ear to see what her reaction was.
Kansas barked out an enthusiastic "COOL!" and looked down towards the decking that was a long way down, while Left Ear looked like, well, she was about to have kittens from her vantage point all the way at the bottom of the course.
Rue winked at Left Ear, then swung down like a monkey, in an effort to beat the younger Cait to the floor below.
The panther Cait regained her composure and merely offered a wink back as well as a silently mouthed "Thank you" in deference to the ships medical officer.
-
03.08.09
USS Excalibur NCC-2004 C
Buccaneers of the Blade Pre Log
“Steal a ship he says. That’s one big fragging ship.”
“Watch your language, and keep your tone down. But, yeah, it is one big fragging ship.”
Two female Caitians sat at a small table in a café overlooking the outer docking ports, sipping on coffee and tea and blending in for the most part with the civilians and Starfleet officers that frequented the cafes and stores located on the main promenade deck of the star base. Their shared visual interest was currently directed at one of the big starships moored at one of the docking port berths, visible outside the huge picture window that ran the length and width of the main deck of the station.
The eldest felinoid was in her early thirties and sported rich brown fur and a dark brown mane that was cut in a severe high and tight military cut. Her angled features and athletic and muscular build evoked images of the Earth panther, and her intelligent eyes were a deep emerald green that looked right through you. She was of average height for a female Cait, about five foot five inches or so.
The younger Caitian had lighter green eyes that glinted with enthusiasm, resembled an Earth lion with her gold toned fur and a golden copper colored mane that was short and spiky, but not nearly as short as the elder felines. She had turned sixteen just four months ago, and was at the prime age to be recruited onto a pirate crew. The leonine Cait was very eager to serve, and so her older cousin had made sure that if the youngster was going to enter the sanctioned privateer life, she was going to do so under her tutelage.
Unlike her adult Cait companion, the younger feline had not yet filled out into her full adult weight and was all gawky with knees, elbows, and big wide paws and would go more towards the compact and athletic side anyway once she had her final growth spurt. And, she had already had a height spurt and would not grow beyond five foot three inches.
But, if an observer were to look closely enough, there were subtle characteristics that showed the two female cats were indeed related – a mannerism here, a tonal inflection there.
Both of the feline females wore the type of civilian work clothing that was usually favored by crews serving on cargo haulers or freighters: short black jackets, turtleneck (the elder one wore a dark gold colored one that contrasted nicely with the brown fur, while the younger one wore a crimson red colored one that also contrasted nicely with her golden fur) sweaters that had a maritime stitch and seam to them, dark charcoal gray cargo trousers ending below their knees to accommodate their feline shaped hind legs, no boots. And, there were various hidden daggers and civilian cricket phasers hidden on their respective persons that they had managed to smuggle on board the station past the security check points.
They also wore brightly colored red sashes of Caitian design wrapped about their waists, but this was a negligible fashion trend and again, no one in the café really paid them any mind; the last several years had seen a fashion trend among some of the more hell bent or adventurous cargo crews out on the frontier trade runs of ‘pirating up’ their uniforms with waist sashes or do rags on the head in an effort to tap into some sort of romantic nonsense attached to the pirate way of life.
In reality, the fashion trend had just made it easier for the genuine articles to blend in on the interior star bases.
“So, Corizons plan is to move on that ship?” The golden furred Caitian took a sip of her tea and glanced out at the big warship in question.
The brown furred feline smirked and then took a sip of her coffee. “That’s Captain Corizon to you, and yep, that is the plan. He’s working the inside angle. I’m tying up the loose ends. As a junior mate, you’ll be on standby in case the security grunts need some extra backup during the initial stages of the takeover.”
The younger feline went into a borderline sulk, but her excitement also came out. “Oh come on, M’Vess – I can handle it! Just send me out with the other Security guys if it comes down to that!”
“We’ve been through this already. No. And what did I tell you about using my name? Out here in the black, because of the nature of our missions, we use code names.”
The youngster huffed out a sound of indignation through her delicate cat shaped nose. “Fine, Left Ear. Why can’t I go in with any of the first assault boarding teams?”
“Because, Kansas - and you know, I still can’t figure out why you chose the name of some gods forsaken dust bowl of an Earth territory in the hind end of nowhere for a name - you are still a junior midshipman in training for security and shuttle pilot. I’m the Ex Oh, and you go on the full rotational roster when I say that you’re ready, and not before.”
“Don’t be insulting the call sign now! And this is coming from the woman who chose Left Ear because she’s missing half of her left ear – how obvious is that?! Besides, there was no way I was choosing Claw or Fang or some dumbass cat name like that. You told me to choose a code name. Fine. I went with Kansas because according to my research on the wireless net, it had a lot in common with our culture. Kansas means ‘People of the South Wind’ and originated with the Kaw, a Human tribe once native to that area of the human’s home planet. We come from a tribe, and we’re from the southern continent on Cait, and it can get windy there – remember when we used to go hover boarding and catch the updrafts?”
A smile broke through Left Ear’s no nonsense exterior, exposing her sharp fangs and setting her eyes to dancing with past memories of when things were a little better. “I remember.” She reached a powerful paw across the table to give Kansas a playful swat on the nose.
The younger feline reciprocated, and playfully batted the paw away, and for a quick moment both of the Caits basically looked like large overgrown housecats with the swatting actions. A couple of the Human patrons within the coffee house noticed and snickered to themselves at the actions, but no one dared to say a word, not if they wanted to continue through their day without some bruises and cuts. As a general rule, the Caitians that served on the cargo vessels or merchant marine ships or mercenary family clan ships flying about the galaxy were not to be trifled with.
And, there was also the chance of running into a cutthroat pirate among that lot, and these two Caitians were most certainly of the piratical variety of Caitians, under the command of one Ah-Windu Corizon.
Corizon was captain to a crew of buccaneers that were rapidly making a big name for themselves throughout the quadrants. And, Corizon and his merry band of cutthroats were going to steal a ship. A big ass ship. An Akira class warship to be exact, currently docked here at the shipyards while taking on new crew and supplies in preparation for deployment on a new patrol mission.
But, things were not going to go according to plan - for the captain and command staff of the Excalibur that is. Those officers had no idea about the upcoming storm that was about to overtake them in the form of the Buccaneers of the Blade. At least, that was the name circulating on the Starfleet newsfeed that had stuck with the infamous pirate leader and his gang.
Movement through the garden that the café overlooked caught M’Vess’s keen eyes and brought her out of her inner thoughts. Their target was moving across the main walkway of the outer garden complex.
“Let’s move. I’ll handle the bill for the coffee. You get to tracking that officer and I’ll catch up.”
Excited, but mindful of the fact that her tracking assignment was very important, Kansas made her way out of the café and into the outer garden area that was the centerpiece of the promenade. She ignored but was mindful of the trees, flower arrangements, passersby, and general distractions in the area as she lagged behind her quarry. The young kitten acted just like any other tourist or off duty officer or civilian merchant officer on layover at the station and meandered through the garden, but all the while she was focused on her target. Soon, the elder Left Ear caught up with her young cousin and the two women continued tracking the operations officer as he made his way across the main station hub where the far control station was located.
The man wore the typical Starfleet black trousers and black matching uniform tunic with gray shoulders and gold turtleneck shirt underneath. The golden hue of the shirt indicated he served within the operations department. Specifically, he was the shift lead and carried the rank of junior el tee. He was in his late twenties, fair skin, tall, average build, muscular, and wore his blond hair in a traditional military crew cut. No family, parents were residents of the New Mars colony, sister served in Fleet medical. The Kitten was a damn good researcher and an even better hacker, and had found both the necessary (and unnecessary) information about the man on the so called encrypted wireless network that the star base employed for internal communications traffic.
Soon, the lieutenant and his clandestine followers arrived at the access junction leading to the control deck that Left Ear had scouted out as a likely spot to spring her portion of the pre-takeover operations.
The felines green eyes had taken on that cold and feral no nonsense look that she got whenever she was carrying out her duties or had a target in her sights. If Kansas hadn’t grown up around her, she would have been disturbed by the look, and as it stood she was mildly disconcerted by it. Left Ear kept telling her that the longer she served with an organized pirate crew, the easier it would be for her to get her own ‘command look’, but Kansas still wasn’t completely convinced. She loved her older cousin, but the woman could be a real bitch sometimes so she had always figured that the ‘look’ just came easily to her.
The male Lieutenant had stopped at the edge of the central garden area to speak with a fellow officer heading in the opposite direction, so both of the Caitians maintained a standby foot patrol pattern. In other words, they were both waiting for him to start moving again and hiding behind a large potted plant and bushes; soon, the conversation was over and the blond haired male continued on his way to his duty station.
“Okay Kansas, count to five and then shoot off that scrambler device. Watch this area, and maintain a static patrol. No one enters the access corridor; if anyone asks, say our company was brought in to do some independent contractual observations of the Jeffries tubes and access tunnels.”
Like the cat that she was, Left Ear slinked out from behind the shrubbery, moving effortlessly on her two hind legs as if she were gliding across the decking rather then walking.
“Right. Go get ‘im Lefty.” Kansas whispered to the elder Caitians back. She counted down to five and then carried out her assigned instructions.
The young golden furred Cait slipped her right paw into her right jacket pocket and depressed the slender scrambler device that resembled a data storage device or computer spike located within the folds of the jacket; the device sent out a short range burst of telemetry static that would temporarily take out all of the security cameras within the area, including the access corridor camera where Left Ear was now heading in pursuit of the officer. She could tell that they had all been taken out when the status light on the camera attached to the far bulkhead support blinked green and then went to flat line red.
Kansas then moved her arm, bringing her paw up to her muzzle and spoke quietly into the electronic communications band strapped across her wrist. “You are good. Repeat, you are clear for some happy hunting, Elder Guardian.”
Left Ear didn’t respond to Kansas’s encrypted wireless line audio report as it filtered through her own wrist communicator, but the Lieutenant a few steps ahead of her had picked up on the tail end of the strange communication, and stopped in his tracks to turn around and give her a curious stare.
“Lieutenant Zimm. Good morning.”
He was confused, and his frown deepened. “Have we met … “
The brown furred panther cat just flew into action, slamming into and getting the heavier human male up against the bulkhead. He tried to struggle, but she clapped a paw under his groin and any scuffling action on his part was stopped real quick.
“Here’s the deal. I talk, you listen, you agree. If you don’t cooperate with me, I squeeze the jewels and my claws pop out to do some puncturing.”
Zimm went completely pale, his eyes flew wide, and he started to frantically nod his head. Yeah, it was probably a good bet that Left Ear had his full and undivided attention.
“Good boy. There may be some excitement later on with regard to one of the ships currently in station mooring – the Excalibur. When it all goes down, you might get some unusual communications traffic to the control tower. You and any one serving on your communications shift won’t react right away or raise any sort of alarm. We need a delay. You got me?”
“I can’t do … what do you mean … “
Left Ear kept her claws sheathed but did give the jewels a slight squeeze; Zimm gasped at the exerted pressure and shut up.
“If you frag this up, I will put an assassination contract out on you. I know individuals who would be highly interested in a job of this nature. Caitian mercenary clan assassins to be exact and you know they can be very good at what they do. And if they can’t find you, they’ll just go for the next available family target. Maybe Mom and Dad, and I’m sure Caryn would probably get a visit as well. So, be a good boy Mister Conrad and do what I ask … “
A purred voice drifted up from the entry way to the access corridor where Kansas was standing a diligent watch. “Wow, I never knew you could be so subtle Cousin. I’d do what she says Mister Zimm unless you want to have an involuntary sex change operation within the next few seconds. The area is still clear, but we need to move soon.” The young Caitian spoke over her shoulder without taking her keen eyes off of the outer area, and could not quite mask the rush of excitement that she felt from coming out in her voice.
Left Ear ignored Kansas and kept looking at Zimm. His blue eyes showed her that she had him right where she wanted him – cowed. She hissed, baring her fangs at the man. “Go. Now!”
She gave him a general shove in the right direction and Zimm took off half running down the corridor, giving a frantic, scared and confused glance back at the bad ass feline that had just accosted him. Kansas sidled up to Left Ear and both of the felines watched as he bolted around a bend in the corridor and out of site.
“We still clear Kitten?” The older Cait watched a distant point in the corridor, not looking at her younger counterpart
The younger cat consulted the meter countdown inset in her wrist comm before replying to the query. “Aye. Cameras have another two minutes before the feedback loop dissipates and they boot back on line. We probably have about five minutes before security sends someone down to check to, it’s such a small glitch.”
“Good. The engineering geeks did good with the tech Intel. Let’s head back to the café and wait for the next phase of the plan to be kicked off. But first … “
A brown paw quickly shot out to grab at the collar of Kansas’s black uniform jacket, and Left Ear gave her a little shake to emphasize what she was about to say, as if her lashing tail and flattened ears were not an indication of her displeasure with her younger charge.
“Kitten, don’t you ever speak out of turn on an operation again. Joking banter has its place, and that is not during a sanctioned away team mission. And, now that Human knows that we are related in some way. Since I scared the sh*t out of him he will probably do nothing about it and our fur tone and coloring is common anyway, but an enterprising individual might be able to track us down using our general descriptions and that familial connection. You found information on Zimm, so what makes you oblivious to the fact that someone wouldn’t be able to find information on us? If you want to serve with this crew, you need to get your head in the game!”
The kid’s own ears had gone flat as well, but from being unsure rather then anger at the dressing down, and her tail had dropped with a depressed thump to the floor. “L-left Ear …. I, uh, I really meant no harm …”
“Enough! We’ll discuss this later. Go, head back to the café and grab us another table!”
Left Ear maneuvered the shorter Caitian around and gave her a firm swat to the seat of her trousers with a free paw to get her moving back towards the entry way of the access corridor. The golden furred Cait yelped at the sting the sharp paw contact elicited and then quickly scampered off on all fours out into the general garden area and the paths that led to various stores and cafes that ringed the outer exterior of the garden.
The panther Cait got her temper back under control by degrees and had cooled down by the time she reached the café. The smell of different varieties of coffee wafting across the recycled air was enticing as well, and also served to temper her mood. She found her Guardian Child at a procured table, and the leonine feline gave her Elder Guardian a self deprecating and lopsided smile as the older panther approached the table. Left Ear gave Kansas a much gentler pat on the head, ruffling her short mane in the process in silent answer to the Kittens unspoken apology.
“I ordered our usual.”
The brown furred Caitian reached into an inside jacket pocket and withdrew a blue credit chip, part of the haul that was sill leftover from when the crew had raided a supply depot on the outer rim, and tossed it over to her young cousin who easily caught it out of the air.
“Go grab us some bagels too. I think we are both due with a small meal before the fireworks start.”
Left Ear JoNs sat down heavily in the opposite seat located across the table from Kansas as the younger feline got up from her own seat and walked over to the counter section to call the order in. Her duties as Corizon’s Exec as well as her familial duties in keeping her young kitten charge safe were very much on her mind. Her gaze went inevitably went to the large picture window overlooking the scenery of the ship yard and docking ports, and to the sleek and powerful prize that Ah-Windu Corizon was determined to nab.
JoNs muttered under her breath. “Seeking bounty by the sword …. Those damn green blood sponsors of ours had better pay us handsomely for this little ship jacking jaunt … “
-
02.11.09
USS Excalibur NCC-2004 C
“Uber-Probie”
The Caitian First Officer of the Excalibur glanced yet again to the split screen tactical overlay grids that were showcased on the main viewer in order get an orientation on the current situation and change up her orders on the fly.
This sloppy skirmish had gone on for six minutes, which in tactical terms was an eternity.
It wasn’t as if the Helm officer wasn’t doing his job, or the Sciences team wasn’t backing up the Tactical officer with their boosted sensor programs that the targeting scanners were benefiting from greatly. Working together, the Science geeks and the Tactical jarhead were scoring some serious battle hits on the hostile raiders. And, gods knew that the Tactical officer was mixing it up over at his console, breaking out the right tools for the right boom-age job.
The fighter contingent that had launched were also kicking some serious rear end on the front line perimeter of the battle, taking on the fighter craft of the pirate raiders in one on one dog fighting. The cargo freighter, though damaged, had managed to limp away a short distance and was no longer being set upon by the full wrath of the pirates.
And, let’s not forget the Akira class Excalibur herself; the ship, intended to perform multiple mission functions from explorations to military ops to evacuations, was a warship by it’s very design and was a prime example for military engagements, with a larger, more improved design originally derived from the prototype Defiant class.
The skirmish should have been over and done with in three minutes, tops, according to the Academy tactical textbooks.
But, this was not the Academy, this was field work. The pirate raiders who had been attacking the cargo freighter were not military adversaries, and they were not employing cut and dry tactics; they were employing civilian based raider para-military tactics.
And, the ships First Officer needed to get a friggin’ clue; she felt like a damn probie.
It was one thing to be a security officer manning the tactical board and letting loose with the phaser, torp, and mine launcher programs. You searched with the grid spotter programs, grabbed a target, locked on the sight down programs or tuned it all up manually if you wanted to go full on old school, and boom – no more active target because said target vessel had been disabled, clipped, or destroyed.
Left Ear JoNs wasn’t a tactical security officer anymore, and she didn’t have the luxury of being just one element manning a bridge console in the grand scheme of battle. She was the senior commanding officer currently in charge of the whole ding dang ship, and as such the main tactical lead.
And, she was thinking in military tactical terms, going by the book when she needed to go outside the box and implement some civilian raider based tactics of her own.
That last jolt that rippled through the bridge did it, and the brown furred panther leaped up from the center command seat. “Okay, enough of this damn friggin’ veken sssstan paddy cake business. The gloves are off and I want these pirate fighters and their raider base ship incapacitated or driven off, veken sssstan ssssfor pronto!”
The ships XO continued speaking, barking out orders to the bridge officers on duty, pointing back and forth with a big brown paw to the officers in question and the grid overlay on the main viewer.
“Mister Khal, bring us down and around again in an inverted under-maneuver. Tactical, as soon as you have a clear shot at the base ships underbelly, open up with the mine grapplers, low yield should do it so we don’t ding the freighter. Ms. Ramson, give your birds the final clearance to get down and dirty with the opposing birds; if they still respond aggressively after we drive off and clip or incapacitate the base ship, blow ‘em from the black. Ms. Teykier, Ms. Tia, keep grabbing as much Intel as you can with your sensor scans, and good job with the tactical backup.”
“Damn veken raiders ….”
. . . Left Ear sighed at her final choice of bad language (and really, her language had seriously degraded in time with the battle as it unfolded and she was rapidly spiraling toward the stereotypical ‘mouth like a sailor’ naval designation) and a wide brown paw came up and she gave herself a disciplinary cuff across the back of the head . . . *
“Re-engage and let’s take out the trash …”
= = = =
*Random Trivia: what TV show did I kleptomaniac the famous head slap and the “Probie” from?
-
02.08.09 Excalibur Mission Update:
TBS: Ten Minutes
- The Away Team are held captive by the Lizard like beings who we assume call the Black Marsh home. The cave-like pit they are held in is smooth from years of erosion, with little or no hand holds for traction; climbing the walls would make a dicey situation even more unstable. Lieutenant Mark Garrison remains in critical condition, and the rest of the landing party have various dings and bruises. Captain Corizon and Lt. Victria remain free and at large.
- The Excalibur reaches the source of the distress signal; a cargo freighter is under attack by pirate raiders. The attackers employ fighter-grade ships as well as a base ship similar in class to the Federations Intrepid type of ships; Excalibur reserve fighters are deployed on CAG Commander Ramson’s orders, and the XO ordered return fire on the Raiding party.
- Various Bridge personnel are kept busy with the prep work and evasive maneuvers and weapons fire from the skirmish. Commander Teykier and Lt. Tia bolster the incoming data through their sciences sensors to feed battle information to Helm Cat Khal and the Tactical officer.
- Engineering and Medical remain on standby, for any repairs and injuries from the cargo ship. CENG Commander Admiran and the Medical doctors on duty were contacted by Executive Officer JoNs.
- The skirmish will continue during the ten minute time between sims, and the landing party remains in custody of the reptiles.
-
MISSION BRIEFING: The AT is still in the night, while the Excalibur orbits the Black Marsh Planet
-
02.01.09 Excalibur Mission Update:
TBS: 3 Hours
- Wireless communications are unavailable between the Excalibur and the landing party down on the Black Marsh Planet. Sciences had been monitoring the away team, but when the wireless went blinkity, there was no longer a tracking fix on them as well. Otherwise, things remain quiet for the departments of Medical and Engineering.
- Quiet? Klepto CENG and the Captains booze held hostage, say what?
- A garbled distress call of unknown origin, claiming an attack by raiders, managed to break through the garbled communications, originating away from the planet. Is this all a trap? And are the communications being deliberately jammed?
- Dude, where’s our landing party?
- The XO made the decision to break orbit, leave the away team in an unknown situation, and investigate the distress call.
- This move did not sit well with some of the officers on watch duty, but hey, that’s why the panther has tension back problems and gets that shiny XO designation sign on her office door.
- The fighter squads on patrol and monitoring the sensor pod buoys placed about the planetary vector by the flight teams were left to patrol the area around the planet in case contact was re-established with the landing party.
- The landing party, with the exception of the Captain and the Al Ucard security officer, who were both on separate patrols away from the camp, were all ambushed at the camp and drugged by darts and then dragged away by Lizard-like beings.
- Hostile Lizards? Now that’s what I call a bad day at work
Notes for when we pick up next sim:
- Fighters left in orbit, per CAG Ramson: 9.
- There has also been one additional pick up shuttle/escort launched just in case, and the AT also has the original shuttle that made planet fall as well.
- The Excal will be entering sensor range of this unknown originator signal.
- The Away Team with the two exceptions will be held in a hole in a cave.
-
02.03.09
USS Excalibur NCC-2004 C
Field Command: The Joker
Commander Left Ear JoNs sat quietly in the command chair on the main bridge, willing herself to stay seated and still and not pace the bridge. The Excalibur would be arriving at the intended destination that had been earmarked as the originating source of the mysterious distress call, and then the ships XO and bridge personnel would determine if the signal had been a hoax or not.
That sounded like a great plan … on paper and in theory. The Fleet Academy textbooks all heralded the “right” thing to do, which was answering any and all distress calls, as any field commander’s sworn duty. It was when you actually got out into the field and started working that you got slapped with the Joker card, finding out that the classroom learning was no substitute for the actual field work implementation that sometimes fell into the category of trial and error.
In other words, if you were in command of a ship, you were usually damned if you did and damned if you didn’t with any number of command decisions.
Left Ear had made the decision to bolt from the Black Marsh planet and check out the distress call, leaving Captain Corizon and his Away Team with their collective Al Ucard, Klingon, Brikar, Human and Dameon asses out in the wind, literally and figuratively. The Excalibur’s communication wireless was down, either due to the planet itself, or purposely taken out by the same source that could be feeding the main ship a distress call from some distant unknown crew under attack by raiders; Left Ear knew that if there was a problem within the internal ships systems to cause the comms to go down, the chief engineer would have informed her of it. The planetary team had no way of knowing that their home ship was gone, and the Excalibur had no way of knowing the condition of the ground team.
So … was this a wild goose distress rescue chase, or a well conceived plan to lure the big ship and her remaining crew away from the Black Marsh? Was the landing party as well being intentionally cut off? Or was it legitimate? It was a fact that the Gamma system boasted raiders, pirates and many other reprobates of that sort of ilk; the Excalibur herself had tangled with the Blood Cult Raiders.
The brown furred panther Exec kept mentally rationalizing her command decision over and over; the planetary team still had the transport shuttle that they had launched in on the planet’s surface – if they needed to get off the rock quickly, then they did have a transport craft. Commander Ramson’s fighter patrols were still in orbital vectors about the planetary vector grid, patrolling as well as monitoring the defensive sensor buoys that the flight teams had placed. There would be an additional pick up shuttle on standby as well, per the patrol orders.
So … why did Left Ear feel very much like a loner despite being surrounded by bridge personnel going about their duties?
This was another thing the Instructors never told you, at least out right, in the command classes - as a ships commander, you were part of the crew but still alone, separated by an invisible line of command decisions and responsibilities. It was JoNs, not the crew, who would take any heat or fallout from leaving the landing party behind, legitimate distress call or not. That was one of the sacrifices you accepted if you desired to be the first or second in command of a starship, and it wasn’t necessarily fair, just the way that things were done.
And somewhere, the Joker that popped up occasionally to haunt a commander was laughing at the way the situation would play itself out regardless.
Damned if you do. Damned if you don’t.
-
12.01.08
USS Excalibur NCC-2004 C
“Wasp!”
Commander Left Ear JoNs, Executive Officer of the Excalibur.
Left Ear JoNs, Commander.
Executive Officer JoNs of the USS Excalibur.
The name, rank, and title had a nice ring to it. The command red uniform tunic was a nice contrast to the feline commander’s rich brown fur. At five foot five inches tall, JoNs wasn’t exactly on the tall side, but with the panther like features and muscular build, it could be said that Left Ear cut a formidable figure and bearing.
Generally, when she gave an order, the crew carried out the instructions with no argument. She had come up through the ranks, gone through command level training courses, and was generally a by the book, serious, and straight arrow officer.
Most of the time, the Caitian Ex Oh was unflappable and the outward appearance of a command level officer just fell into place. But, an outward appearance could be deceiving, and the old human adage to never judge a book by its cover was very appropriate right now.
JoNs was trying not to curl up into a fuzzy ball and babble or yowl incoherently with her displeasure.
The landing party had made planetary touch down. Captain Corizon had accompanied the Miriamano team to the surface, JoNs had been left in command of the Excalibur, and the bridge operations were all running smoothly. Nothing had blown up within the last few minutes. The Caitian senior officer had been rather content to let the big ship hang out in orbit of the planet while she sat and looked all feline content and pretty in the big chair.
Then, she had started reading through the departmental update reports. Apparently, the engineering staff was moving forward quite quickly with the “spider mole” technological counter measure idea. Left Ear continued scrolling through the data padd she held in a strong and wide paw, perusing the information contained there with a critical eye and trying not to cower in fear or something.
Wasps. According to the preliminary tech specs and the description of the counter device function, the grease monkeys planned to construct and employ …. small mechanical wasps to prevent any sort of future technological breach (Cult Spider Mole or otherwise) to the ship .
The little bastards.
Wait. The wasps. Not the Excalibur engineering staff …
Thirteen years previously
Starfleet Academy Annexed Grounds
San Pablo Ranch, Old California
Preliminary Survival Training Class
“This is so stupid.”
MVess JoNs glanced at the speaker, a pretty white haired Andorian cadet, and offered a commiserating purr to her. “Hey, we don’t pick our first semester classes; required core curriculum, so what’re you going to do?” The brown furred Caitian shrugged and turned her attention back to the instructor blathering on and on at the head of the group.
MVess, the Andorian, and about eight other cadets from her freshman class had been shuttled from the main Academy grounds onto the San Pablo ranch for this portion of the class training work. The land was flat and open, and comprised the grassland and plains portion of the preliminary survival training that the academy offered. The San Pablo Ranch had been in operation for about four hundred years, and a portion of the lands had been donated to the Fleet Academy about one hundred years previously for training and teaching purposes.
Personally, JoNs was bored out of her ever loving skull, considering she had grown up on the grasslands of Cait and was well aware of what it would take to survive if one where to ever get stranded on an open land area such as this. She had gone camping and on more then enough overnight hikes to be more then over qualified for the class.
Oh who was she kidding – she and her brothers could probably teach the class better then the instructor.
“… okay Cadets, the land is pretty basic here: flat landscape, grass, scrub oak, the occasional tree. What you need to watch out for is any non indigenous species that may have been introduced within the area over the years, therefore changing up the eco system of what appears to be a cut and dry geological area ...”
MVess’s ears perked forward at that point. Non-indigenous?
“…such as the Black Winged Prairie Wasp, which can be dangerous if provoked.”
Oh-kay. That doesn’t sound very … friendly.
The instructor, a dark skinned male lieutenant on a medical leave teaching assignment by the name of Brodie, pointed a finger toward a small tree about twenty paces away. “The current remaining wasps - numbering about two hundred or so now - are all that remains of a failed genetic experiment in the early 2000’s to cut down on an insect problem that had been infecting the surrounding ranch and vacation haciendas. Long story short, a common wasp genetic was bred with the common honey bee, a few DNA strands tweaked here and there, and the Black Wing was born.”
A murmuring trolled through the gathered group of cadets as tenuous glances were winged towards the tree; the aforementioned wasps could be seen skimming through the air around the tree.
“The bloodline, so to speak, of the Black Wing has continued to degrade over these decades. Every fifteen years or so, a new batch of the now highly aggressive wasps appears, but about half of their numbers are sterile, so the reproductive cycle just keeps dwindling. Eventually, the genetic line will die off, and there are no plans to resurrect the Earth species considering they were created in the first place.”
“So why in the name of the Great Predator Bird are we standing a bit close to the um, wasp inhabited tree with the nasty and aggressive wasps, sir?”
JoNs’s gentle purred voice carried a bit across the open expanse of the plains area, but her tone was not gentle. It was direct and to the point, or as to the point as a young eighteen year old cadet could be.
“I don’t think I like your tone cadet.”
“Well, we’ve been through this before sir; doesn’t change the fact that we really should get away from the said non indigenous species … right?”
“Cadet JoNs, I assure you that … ack!”
And there we go – one of the Black Wings buzzed the Lieutenant. Left Ear swore she heard about a hundred buzzing little voices scream:
“ATTACK! INTRUDERS TO THE HIVE! BOO YA YA YA YA!”
Present Day
USS Excalibur
Command Bridge
Yeah, Left Ear was still traumatized to this day over that incident and generally disliked any wasp, bee, or any sort of flying insect with a stinger.
Gods forbid that she ever serve on a Fleet ship named after a wasp species or something. She knew there was a Norway class fleet ship tooling about the quadrants that sported the name of the USS Yellow Jacket; there was no way in Hades that the Caitian would ever serve on that vessel.
JoNs recalled that the next two minutes of that fragging field trip had been just this side of bedlam. The black winged wasps swarmed, defending their tree hive. Minor stings and injuries had been sustained, but the cadet group finally piled and or dove into the transport shuttle that had been parked a short distance away. The feline had been lucky; her fur had protected her from a majority of the little stingers. The instructor was eventually reprimanded (citing general lack of judgment).
So, that case had involved a failed and dying genetic experiment and overall JoNs and the other cadets had learned a valuable lesson about the more aggressive insect that could inhabit – or made to inhabit – a planetary area.
And this current engineering case involved building a small wasp-like countermeasure device to guard against any further Blood Cult mechanical “spiders” that crawled aboard to mess with any internal ships equipment, and introducing them to the environment of the Excalibur.
Granted, the little so and so’s might consider the Excalibur their hive environment once they were programmed. Or whatever … can you program a cyber wasp?
Okay, now the Caitian commander was getting a headache. Note to self: pay a little visit to engineering and do some follow up investigating.
If the wasps so much as twitched the wrong way, or attempted a coup to take over the ship, or spazzed out and went all cyber zombie hoo rah wasp, JoNs was going to seriously bust some grease monkey rear ends.
Little bastards.
… she meant the tech wasp project, not the engineers.
-
11.09.08 Excalibur Mission Update:
MISSION BRIEF: We're under siege by the Cult with intruders on three decks, engineering, on their way to sickbay, and on deck five. In space the battle rages.
TBS: Two Days, long enough to arrive at Miriamano
- Engineering, Medical, the Bridge Crew, SEC and Marine patrols, and the Fighter Wing were all called to action to deal with the external and internal threats posed by the Blood Cult.
- The Blood Cult boarders were repelled, most are dead, a few are taken prisoner.
- Casualties include: Dr. Patterson and her unborn child, Ensign Laural, Security Officer Dougt, SCPO Farrell, and numerous others.
- The 310th Fighter Wing was successful in routing the Cult Raider craft on the external side of the battle as well.
- After a flip remark regarding canine based humor made by the XO on the bridge, Commander JoNs discovered the hard way that Captain Corizon definitely does not play favorites.
- The Excalibur will now continue her flight to the Miriamano Homeworld and the storage archives maintained on the world.
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MISSION BRIEF: We're under siege by the Cult with intruders on three decks, engineering, on their way to sickbay, and on deck five. In space the battle rages.
in USS Excalibur Briefings & Logs
Posted · Report post
06.21.09 Excalibur Update:
TBS: Three days. We will be a day out from our target, and just entering unclaimed space.
- The officers and crew settled on board the Excelsior class USS Union as we zoom out on our salvage mission to claim Scorpiad technology.
- We have some new faces amongst the crew, in the SEC, Medical, and SCI departments.
- An old score between two of our senior officers is brought to a grinding halt by none other then Captain Corizon himself.
- Both Corizon and JoNs attend to personnel meet and greet transfers, while CSCI Laarell meets with CSEC Garrison. CMO Rue fields a new Doctor, while a new bridge SCI Ensign settles in and takes her bridge console for a test drive. Ex Oh JoNs isn't too embarrassed by her own shore leave hijinks, and one young pilot known as Honor-Scar has matured a bit. In addition, CAG Ramson didn't have to bail out too many pilots.
- Life is good, for now; we have no idea what this next mission holds for our Intrepid crew.