Kansas

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Profile:

Name: Conrad Horatio Zimm, Jr.

Race: Human, Caucasian Male

Birthplace: Missouri, Earth

Eyes: Blue

Hair: Blond, crew cut, graying at the temples

Height: 6’1

Weight: 185 lbs

Next of Kin: Conrad Horatio Zimm, Sr. (father), Colleen Zimm (mother), Casey Zimm (sister)

Specialty: Security

Secondary Specialty: Surveillance systems, Defensive systems

Rank: Chief Petty Officer

Current Assignment: USS Agincourt NCC-81762

Position: Security Department, Wolf Squad Team Lead

Biographical Profile:

Conrad Zimm was born in 2358 and is 39 years of age. After graduating from high school, he enrolled in the accelerated Starfleet training program for enlisted officers, graduating at the age of 21 with a rank of Crewman Second Class.

Zimm has served on a variety of duty stations, ranging from starships to ground assignments to frontier colony outposts. During these years of subsequent service, he gravitated to the field of security, eventually gaining experience and training in the technical aspects of surveillance systems and outpost and star base defense systems.

In 2392, Zimm and the squad he was serving in were dispatched to provide security backup at Fleet colony outpost Gethan Two. The outpost had been compromised by a faction of Tal Shiar sympathizers, and the pitched battle that was to follow with the Rihan insurgents Zimm likes to describe as a “trip through the slums of Hell and back”. One half of the security contingent was lost, including the squad lieutenant, but Zimm and the remaining squad members eventually re-captured one of the key communications node. Zimm was later cited for bravery and formally awarded the medal of valor for his actions. However, he requested rotation out of star base duty stations and has served primarily on starships for the past five years. In addition, the Valor medal is not and nor will it ever be, prominently displayed - Zimm shipped the medal home to his parents, and there it remains.

The year 2397 finds the senior petty officer assigned to the USS Agincourt to the security department as the leader of Wolf squad.

Conrad Zimm is the type of non com that is “solid and steady”, whether you need someone to watch your six or someone to plant a detonation charge, he is your man. Whatever the mission or assignment, Zimm will always provide the backup or assistance as it is needed.

Psychological Notation:

Zimm is cleared for duty, and has no psychological or emotional issues that will prevent him from doing his duty. However, do not call him “Horatio” unless you wish to lose a few teeth. His mother is the only one “allowed” to call him by this name.

Case File # 456.

- As recorded by Doctor Itahno Chaventa, Starfleet Medical

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12.24.07

ISS Agincourt ICC-81762

“Justice, Truth, Honor, Loyalty”

**********

Justice: when it serves me

Truth: when it serves me

Honor: on my own terms

Loyalty: on my own terms

… Credits: always

Lieutenant Commander Kansas JoNs stood in a relaxed parade rest, paws clasped behind her back, the very example of calm and confidence – outwardly, that is. Inwardly, the feline second officer and security chief was having a mental crisis, attempting to figure out what in the name of the Great Predator Bird to do with this current cluster frag.

The secondary cargo bay was deserted save for the small group in the middle. Four human crewmembers were down on their knees, hands clasped on their heads. Two security officers covered them with disruptors, and the final three officers that comprised the gathering were JoNs, Chief Armory Officer Zimm, and the female half of the cat’s personal guard – Lieutenant Mical. The blue skinned woman, her antennae at attention and her eyes missing nothing, stood to JoNs’s immediate left, while Zimm rummaged around in a nearby crate, muttering softly to himself as he did so.

The Caitians predatory gaze fixed on the four detainees, three male and one female. Sgt. Dede Rake and Private Duff Horton from the Marines, second shift, Lieutenant Joe Griff of Medical, second shift, and Ensign Kipper Tor of Engineering, third shift. It was a regular gathering of the departments, it was, and a bit rare when one thought about it. These little plots were usually enacted by members of the same department, and cross departmental planning of the illegal variety was usually considered too much of an unknown factor. She also also annoyed at the fact that two marines were present. Having jarheads involved, though a rare occurence, tended to make these situations even more complicated, what with having a marine commanding officer and marine executive officer in charge of the ‘Court.

“What’s the word Silencer?” Her purred voice echoed over the distance to where Zimm was working.

The tall, crew cut blond male moved out from behind the large transport crate, and walked over to where the feline stood, handing her the tricorder he had been working with. “The weapons and supplies are all there, nothing is missing.”

“Good. You want to deal with them?” She pointed a claw at the four crewmembers.

“Nah. Let’s keep it somewhat official. It’s your call Lieutenant Commander.”

JoNs smirked. Oh yes indeed, justice was to be served, but official was pushing it. Retribution would be on the Cait’s own terms.

The feline now spoke to the four prisoners. “Okay people, here’s the deal.” She held the tricorder aloft in the air. “All the evidence I need is here on this tricorder. Why you attempted to steal weapons during the first shift, I won’t even attempt to figure that one out. That sort of thing is best left to the second or third shift, but I’m giving away my secrets here. You may have gotten away with this little endeavor, but you were sloppy with your supply request forgeries and unlike our former armory chief, Mister Zimm also keeps very good armory records.”

The Caitian had begun a slow walk around the four officers, and paused behind them, continuing her little hoo rah rah speech. “With that said? There won’t be any official reports filed here.”

Sometimes telling the truth was the best policy, but not here, not now. JoNs was in a unique (or was that perilous?) position as an alien second officer. Running to her commanding officer or executive officer with every little transgression would be a sign of weakness, and she needed to establish her own power. Therefore, the feline used truth based on how it served her in the moment, picking and choosing when and how to employ the concept.

Four heads whipped around to stare at the Caitian in disbelief, causing Zimm to bellow out “Eyes front and center!”

Kansas walked back around to stand in front of them again, her predatory strides only adding to her barely contained feral nature. “Basically, y’all are mine now. I love going off the record, don’t you? But, no worries, I’m not going to kill you.”

One of the security guards, a young Vulcan and recent transfer from the ISS Hammer Forge, spoke up at this point, his one eyebrow arcing in a question. “That is not logical; they stole from the empire, subverted security, they deserve punishment.”

The feline pounced on the lesson opportunity right away; these young bucks were getting more and more vocal these days, I mean really. “Indeed Mister Voran. But, we have four miscreants. One miscreant would be much easier to blow away as an example. Killing four miscreants? That would be a bloody waste, create too much attention, and create quite the vacuum in the ships roster. Plus the fact, you get the blood rolling across the deck here, it’s messy, and maintenance needs to clean it up… etcetera, etcetera.”

The concept of honor came in many forms, some of them more warped then others, thank you very much.

“What do you intend to do with us?” Sergeant Rake spoke up, her long brown hair in disarray, and her right eye beginning to blacken where Mical had popped her one during the initial arrest of the would be smugglers.

A leer greeted the statement, followed by a happy tail lash. “Sergeant, I am glad you asked. Until further notice, you four are indentured to me. You will transmit a stipend fund in a fixed amount of my choosing into my personal account every month. In addition, since you seem to love the armory supplies so much, you will serve your regular duty shift and then pull a second shift in the armory, helping Mister Zimm with inventory, for a period of three weeks.”

The feline had found that loyalty was best served on her own terms. Always had been, always would be. And credits were always welcome.

The sergeant’s temper flared. “That’s ludicrous! I ain’t paying or working in no Squid…” The other security grunt, Hanson, moved to fire his disruptor at Rake, but the feline officer was faster, clocking Rake across the jaw with a backhand. The female marine slumped to the decking in a daze.

“Hanson, as I’ve said before - why waste the disruptor charge when a hit can work just as well?” The big guard merely nodded at the security chief and moved back into his guard position.

JoNs then turned to her attention to her Andorian personal guard. “Mical, take Hanson and Voran and escort these four to the brig. They can cool their heels in there for the rest of the night and then resume their normal – and new – duties tomorrow. Dismissed.”

Once everyone had cleared out, and it was just her and Zimm left, the feline second officer wandered over to the cargo crate and placed her paws to either side of the container, looking down at the weapons and supplies stored inside in neat and tidy rows. Zimm soon came up behind her, his hands and arms sliding around her lower torso. “Credit for your thoughts?”

“Lieutenant Zimm. These weapons are technically not recorded on the inventory…it seems a shame to let the credit value go to waste…”

The armory chief bent down to kiss the feline on her neck, his voice low and husky. “You don’t say. Perhaps we should do something about that, Lieutenant Commander…. ”

Can you say mercenary black market trading? Sure you can.

**********

Notes:

Rake, Griff, Horton, and the Tor character names appear courtesy of Starship Troopers 2: Hero of the Federation (2004)

The original Justice, Truth, Honor, and Loyalty concept is taken from Thundercats (1985) and the version showcased in this log is my own mirror-ized version, of course.

- KJ

Is. Slightly Obsessed. With Mirror.

Thank you!

I figure its about time I had an avy saying something along those lines :-P

10.09.07

USS Agincourt NCC-81762

"Temporary Truce"

Master Chief Petty Officer Keltex walked with long strides down the corridor toward the main sickbay. His duties had prevented him from visiting the Kitten until now; the security department was on alert with regard to the tactical positioning of the Selshan Fleet outside, and the internal investigation that continued with regard to the training accident in the NNC.The silver haired Klingon nodded politely to three medical technicians as they exited the medical bay, and then he walked in; after he had cleared the threshold, the enlisted officer stopped dead in his tracks.

Worlds would burn. Stars would collapse in on themselves.

Atmosphere would be stripped away.

People would rebel. Children would cry. Governments would fall.

There would be chaos in the known universe as they knew it.

Lieutenant Commander JoNs and Petty Officer Third Class Kreval were playing….cards. Together. Unsupervised. And there was no bloodshed. The female Caitian was calmly sitting cross legged on the biobed, tail swishing idly as it hung over the edge of the bed, and the male Tellerite occupied a chair set near the bed; both were staring intently at their current cards.

Keltex, Son of Lokan, seasoned veteran of more then forty years service in the Klingon Defense Force and the Federation Starfleet, reacted to this sight before him with the upright bearing of a senior enlisted officer. He placed a hand on his craggy forehead in disbelief and stated, "What the hell is this?"

Kreval answered the query, without looking up from his cards. "This is poker Master Chief. Care to sit in for a couple hands?"

The big Klingon merely held up one meaty finger in a 'wait' gesture. He walked back outside into the corridor, and then re-entered the sickbay. Nothing had changed; if anything, the Kitten and Kreval were now looking at him a bit oddly.

"….I thought perhaps that…maybe I had somehow entered an alternate universe…or something…"

JoNs purred. "If this was an alternate universe Master Chief, we'd all be packing way more weapons," she pointed at Kreval, "I would have had him assassinated by now," her paw went to Keltex, "you would be some type of bad ass enforcer," she then pointed her paw at her own chest, "and I would have taken over the ship by now in a carefully planned and exquisitely maneuvered mutiny." A good natured leer exposed the feline Second Officers' fangs.

Keltex still hadn't moved from where he stood. "But you two can't stand each other."

"Have no fear Master Chief," the pig-like Petty Officer shuffled the cards in his hoof-hands as he spoke, "…the commander and I went into our usual shtick – that is the correct human term, right? – upon my arrival. I walked in, bellowed at her for getting hurt and how stupid and young she was to have gotten hurt in the first place…"

"…at which I told Mister Kreval to stuff it, and ordered him to get out of my face…"

"And then, logically, we both settled in to play cards with the deck I had brought. Care for a hand Master Chief?" Petty Officer Kreval held the newly shuffled deck aloft. "Your cut. We're playing for holo deck ration time."

The feline lieutenant commander silently indicated the pile of credit sticks in the middle of her bed with a claw.

This was a strange universe, indeed. But then again, who was he to pass up a card game with good comrades? A slow smile spread across Keltex's weather beaten features, revealing his jagged teeth. "Very well lady and gentleman…deal me in."

What you humans need is a television show about a Klingon crew. Now that's entertainment.

===== Starfleet Biographical Profile =====

===== Clearance Level Five =====

General Information:

Name: Keltex

House: Lokan

Blood House Affiliation: Morrikan

Birthplace: Qo'nos, Kh'Vrax Province

Age: 58

Height: 6'2

Weight: 215 lbs

Status: Unbonded, single.

Markings: Burn scar, left bicep. Batleth scar, right thigh.

Current service status: Active, enlisted officer, Starfleet

Rank: Master Chief Petty Officer

Current assignment: USS Gideon, Security.

NOTE: all Gideon ships personnel currently listed as MIA.

Family:

Mother - Vashta, Klingon Defense Force, Security Officer. Retired. Age 85

Father - Lokan, Klingon Defense Force, Navigation Officer. KIA 2370.

Sisters:

Varin, Klingon Defense Force, Civilian Attache. Age 61

Lokana, Defense Force Academy, Instructor. Age 56.

Brothers:

Vashtak, Starfleet, Engineer. Age 54.

Krevor, Klingon Defense Force, Navigation Officer. Age 45.

Specialty: Security

Secondary Specialty: Hand to hand combat tactics

Weapons Specialty: Batleth, junior master. Mekleth, junior master.

Allergies: Terran bee

Personal Background:

Keltex is the second child and first male born to Vashta and Lokan. His elder sister Varin holds the title of House Head, while Keltex is the First Son. Their mother still maintains the leadership of the family house, with Keltex and Varin functioning in lieutenant positions. House Lokan maintains a blood pact with House Morrikan.

His formative years were split between time spent at the modest Lokan family estate and summer hunting cycles spent at the Morrikan estate. Both Vashta and Lokan alternated duty cycles to ensure there was always one parent with the children. A great aunt – Morexa – was employed to teach the Lokan children, as well as impart the culture of battle honor to them, in part from her own service in the defense fleet.

He entered the Klingon Defense Academy at the age of seventeen, following a distinguished line of family service. His house bloodline, though distinguished, was not conducive to line officer training; therefore, Keltex trained and studied to be an enlisted soldier, and usually found himself posted to planetary ground or sector border patrol missions. He comported himself well during his service time, moving up through the enlisted ranks earning commendations as well as several awards for bravery. His service led him to gravitate to security, hand to hand combat, and weapons specializations.

Taking advantage of the joint Officer Exchange program between the Starfleet and the Klingon Defense Force, Keltex entered his application and was accepted. This eventually led to the Klingon soldier permanently joining the Starfleet. His family accepted this decision without question, and his brother Vashtak would also serve in the Federation fleet as well.

As the First Son of House Lokan, Keltex holds the right to ask a non-family member to join the house. A baldric, passed down from generation to generation, is the physical sign of an individual's entrance into the House. The other Lokan siblings as well hold similar ceremonial objects, and may present them to those they deem worthy of induction into the house, but they must ask permission of Keltex or House Head Varin first.

Keltex is a career Master Chief Petty Officer. His typically boisterous attitude hides a keen tactical mind. In his younger years, the enlisted officer could be a handful. In his later years, the officer is still a handful, though now tempered with a lifetime of service and knowledge. He also will not hesitate to school a younger line officer counterpart, if the situation and the advice warrants the need.