"A Commanding Temper"

[Kansas_Jones 0]

May 17, 2006 (2397)

USS Agincourt NCC-81762

“A Commanding Temper”

 

The Agincourt had been on General Quarter’s lockdown for the past twelve hours; soon, the ship would be in range of Travae, and hopefully an antidote to the virus plaguing the crew would be found if the doctors hadn’t already. For now, the Medical bay, and the decks directly above and below were still quarantined. All non-infected personnel were required to wear EV suits, and anyone not on duty were to stay in cabins. The teritiary medical bay was now being used as the center of med ops.

 

Lt. Kansas JoNs was on duty, patrolling Deck Nether Regions; also known as decks 14 and 15. After completing her tactical shift on the bridge, she pulled some extra patrol duty in order to pitch in where she could to help the security and marine personnel that were constantly monitoring the decks.

 

She wore a specially modified suit, accommodating her tail and the felinoid-shape to her lower legs and feet. A special coating of alloy enveloped the fingertips, preventing her claws from accidentally poking through and breaching the suit.

 

She left the emergency core jettison control area and rounded a corridor to a connecting auxiliary corridor…and about had a heart attack.

 

Directly ahead at the far end, three enlisted members of the security department were hunkered down. They appeared to be engaging in some sort of dice game, not patrolling this sector as they should be.

 

That heart attack rapidly degraded into a slow burning of fire in JoNs’s guts. Simultaneously, information popped unbidden into her head from a long ago crowd control class.

 

“In emergencies or lockdown situations, if sustained long enough, there will be the start of many reactions. Some will help. Some will panic. Some will listen. And, then there are those who have a self serving agenda.”

 

The Caitian quietly crept up behind them and spoke, her purring voice distorted by the helmet voder. “Is there a problem here?”

 

Everyone scrambled to attention. It was like a caffeine rush to the tenth power. Well, at least their reflexes are good. “Sir!”

 

Her eyes quickly searched out the name designations on the suits. Crewmen 3rd class Etain Hachen and Gabe D'Angelo, and Petty Officer Marisa Katt. The three non-coms had slipped into that latter reaction of a self serving agenda. Yes, they all were capable of making their own decisions…but Katt was the ranking non-com, and should have shown better judgment in this case. Therefore, JoNs would zero in on her.

 

The Caitian let her gaze linger on Katt and then locked on to the two crewmen. “Hachen, D’Angelo. You’re both re-assigned to Zimm’s squad for the remainder of patrol duties this cycle. If you haven’t reported to him when I check in, then when this is all over, it will be myself, you two, the holo-training sniper program on Qo’nos, and me doing head shots with extreme prejudice. Do you get me?” She managed to keep the snarl in her voice as a low undercurrent.

 

“Yes sir.” They answered in unison.

 

“Good. Go now.” Oh gods. She had that Robair tone thing going on. Then again she’d rather catch a Robair Tone then the virus. Her tail lashed once as she watched Hachen and D’Angelo double time up the corridor.

 

The Caitian then turned her attention back to Katt. The woman was only a few years older then her, but had served a bit longer then Kansas, and Kansas respected that time served and the knowledge Katt had gained over the years. She even understood the non-coms getting together for a dice game, gaining some extra credits. However, a GQ lockdown was not the time or the place, and with the situation starting to really take a toll on everyone, Kansas listened to her instincts and knew that she could not overlook the transgression lest another more serious one occur.

 

JoNs did not mince words. “Petty Officer. We have a GQ lockdown and you have a game of dice going? Not exactly the proper course of action to take. Explain.” Kansas paced a bit back up the corridor, hands on hips, her back to Katt. The enlisted woman maintained her “at attention” stance.

 

Katt as well did not miss a beat. “With all due respect Lieutenant, we were all on a break in the rotation cycles. And…your recent activities have not been exactly officer proper either. At least I haven’t procured any hypos lately or gotten into a star base brawl.”

 

JoNs came to a dead stop.

 

A fair statement; Kansas really hadn’t been the model Fleet officer during those times, had she? Who was she to confront another on a similar matter?

 

Starship gossip strikes again.

 

Did Katt really just go there?

 

Yes she did go there. And then she kept going.

 

So, what are you going to do now Lieutenant JoNs?

 

With her back still to Katt, Kansas reached up and released the fasteners of her helmet. It released from the neckline with a hiss of air. She removed the helmet and held it tightly under her left arm.

 

A foolish risk? Even though medical had released a preliminary report that the virus was probably passed by direct contact, yes, she was still taking a risk removing the helmet. A necessary risk? No.

 

Worth the risk to make a point to be remembered? Oh yes. This situation questioning Kansas’s own motives would never happen again. It couldn’t; what if this had happened during the middle of a firefight?

 

“Sir? What are you doing? The EV suit orders…”

 

Kansas turned again to face Katt. The Caitians pupils were fully dilated. Her ears were completely flat against her skull, and her face was drawn and taut with anger, almost like stone. Her temper was in the “cold fire” zone, a very dangerous and predatory place for a Caitian to go. Yet, she felt her training guiding her as always, as a buffer to the predatory anger.

 

Regardless, the petty officer faltered at the sight before her (i.e. a large pissed off cat), and took a step backward, breaking her ramrod straight stance. “Attention!” Kansas barked out the order, walking toward Katt and then going nose to nose with her…or rather her faceplate.

 

“Officer proper you say. Let’s get this straight, right here and right now. This officer was dealt with regarding my transgressions, by our chief, and quite soundly I might add. Now that we have me out of the way, and who dealt with me and why, let’s get down to you shall we? Hello, Petty Officer Katt, I am Lieutenant JoNs. Bottom line is that you let your guard down during a GQ patrol, off cycle be damned. A ranking officer caught you. Therefore, I get to deal with you as I see fit. Simple math.”

 

Kansas paused, backing away a step, and trying to calm down a bit. This was honestly her first time with a disciplinary encounter with someone of a lower rank. It left her feeling a bit sick to the stomach, but she stamped down the sensation and any guilt that may come from it. The “what if this were a firefight and my orders were questioned” kept popping into her head and drove her forward.

 

The Caitian continued speaking. “I am now your new patrol buddy. And, in the process, we get to review standard patrol protocols as applied to a lockdown. Start walking, and stay in front of me where I can see you. Go.” She could tell even with the faceplate that Katt was so not thrilled with that idea. Kansas reattached her helmet as the petty officer moved past her.

 

Live and learn petty officer.

 

Live and learn lieutenant.

 

Lt. M’rrett Sh’aow “Kansas” JoN’s

Tactical Officer

Edited May 20, 2006 by Kansas_Jones