"Rollin'...Rollin'...Rollin'..."

[Kansas_Jones 0]

July 5, 2006 (2397)

USS Agincourt NCC-81762

“Rollin’..Rollin’..Rollin’ “

(Keep Them Doggies Rollin’… Rawhide!)

 

Have you ever seen a holo-western, or even one of the old 2D versions? Usually, if you watch enough of them, you are going to see one of those famous cattle drive scenes. All the cows (or Targ, of you watch the Klingon versions) are being led across some great open plain by the intrepid and hardworking cowboy.

 

The Agincourt crew are the cowboys. The ships in our convoy are the cows. And we need to escort them safely across the shipping lanes / plains.

 

No, I am not losing my mind. I just happen to be a fan of those human westerns. And, after two weeks of patrol and escort duty, well, the mind tends to wander. For the umpteenth time, I glanced up to check the manifest displayed on the main viewer listing the current ships in our convoy escort:

 

**SHIP NAME - CLASS - OWNER - MASTER

 

Hunters Moon - Enforcer - Privateer - Grag

American Rover - Pathfinder - Private - Smith / Glass (Carpenter, special agent)

Iroquois - Industrial - Corporate - Israel

Mable Stevens - VIP Transport - Private - Chalker

Hampton Roads - Conestoga - Private - Nickle

 

“Sir!” A voice rapidly heading toward exasperation sounded across the bridge. I turned slightly in the command chair toward the ops station, where Samantha Chen was filling in. Her Asian features were a study in frustration, and I swear her Trill spotting had started to mottle a shade of read.

 

“Chen? What’s the sit rep?”

 

“Lieutenant, I apologize, it’s the Hunters Moon…again. Grag wishes to speak with someone in authority now. He refuses to be placated…”

 

I held up my right paw in a calming gesture to stop her. “Say no more and understood. Put Commander Grag on the viewer.” I swiveled back to face the main bridge screen.

 

The Klingon master of the Hunters Moon appeared on screen, his visage in that demeaning type of scowl that gives all Klingons a bad name. The silver in his hair and facial hair completed the intimidating look.

 

“Who are you?”

 

“Lieutenant JoNs sir. I understand you have some issues?”

 

He snorted. “I ask for authority and I get children instead. How old are you?”

 

Oh he’s a winner. “Thirty One. And yourself?”

 

Grag paused for a split second, as if not expecting the answer or perhaps not expecting the calm tone of it. I continued. “I am just curious sir because you look old enough to know better.”

 

He went into Klingon bluster mode. “Caitian whelp! Your furred skin will grace my bridge! Where is your commanding officer!?”

 

I smiled happily. “Which one? Regardless, they are all unavailable at the moment, so you get to deal with me. And as for the skin idea, uh, no. I would clash with the green, brown, and rust overtones on your bridge. Now as a cloak? I would look very good with that burgundy and steel gray tunic of yours Commander Grag.”

 

The bridge crew looked at me as if I had gone stark raving loony birds. Well again, it has been two weeks, and the mind does wander.

 

“BWA HA HA HA HA!!” Grag let loose with a belly laugh. “I like you Caitian! You spar with words, a lost art, and a good battle.”

 

Okaaaaay. My smile remained. “And now sir, again, how may I help you?”

 

Grag smiled as well, baring his snaggled teeth. “I just wanted to inquire – must we travel at warp 4? I can run faster then this.”

 

“Commander, it is a courtesy to the other ships in the convoy; not all can do above warp five. Warp four is an acceptable speed for all ships.”

 

Grag harrumped, or rather, growled.

 

I went for the kill. “Of course, Commander Grag, the Agincourt could just charge up one or two of the phaser banks and bling the slower ships for you…it may give them enough of a boost for some faster forward momentum…”

 

The speakers on the bridge filled the area again with raucous Klingon laughter.

 

Keep them doggies rollin’…

 

Lt. M’rrett Sh’aow “Kansas” JoN’s

Chief Tactical-Assistant Security Officer

 

** All ship information, with the exception of the “Grag” name, appear courtesy of “Star Trek New Earth: Wagon Train to the Stars” by Diane Carey, Pocket Books 2000.

[DesdemonaLevy 0]

Darn you Kansas. I have had that song stuck in my head for the last few days. And the worst part is I can't remember the words so I just keep singing the same ones over and over

[Kansas_Jones 0]

Darn you Kansas. I have had that song stuck in my head for the last few days. And the worst part is I can't remember the words so I just keep singing the same ones over and over

 

ROFL! Hey, I figure if I'm suffering, I want to share - I made the mistake of catching the Hallmark Channels "Rawhide" marathon on July 4th, and I can't get the ding dang song outta my head as well, same line over and over, because I'm not sure of all the words as well. So, I used it as a log title to torture everyone. :D

[Sendai Riko 0]

Rollin', rollin', rollin'

Rollin', rollin', rollin'

Rollin', rollin', rollin'

Rollin', rollin', rollin'

Rawhide!

 

Rollin', rollin', rollin'

Though the streams are swollen

Keep them dogies rollin'

Rawhide!

Rain and wind and weather

Hell-bent for leather

Wishin' my gal was by my side.

All the things I'm missin',

Good vittles, love, and kissin',

Are waiting at the end of my ride

 

CHORUS

Move 'em on, head 'em up

Head 'em up, move 'em on

Move 'em on, head 'em up

Rawhide

Count 'em out, ride 'em in,

Ride 'em in, count 'em out,

Count 'em out, ride 'em in

Rawhide!

 

Keep movin', movin', movin'

Though they're disapprovin'

Keep them dogies movin'

Rawhide!

Don't try to understand 'em

Just rope, throw, and brand 'em

Soon we'll be living high and wide.

My hearts calculatin'

My true love will be waitin',

Be waitin' at the end of my ride.

 

Rawhide!

Rawhide!

 

There you go, now you can sing the whole song! :D