"Bad Cop"

[Kansas_Jones 0]

11.05.06 (2383)

USS Lewis

“Bad Cop”

 

Left Ear JoNs had eventually jolted herself from her shock enduced stupor. She was now working at some temporary assignments on the Lewis, usually involved with helping the Lewis’s existing crew getting all of the misplaced civilians settled. There had been various transports arriving or preparing to come to take them to greener pastures, away from the war zone they now found themselves in. Her next personal mission was to seek out some fellow crewmates from the Aegis, just to touch base and talk.

 

She held a data padd, and her current duty was to take down information from the civilians in the ship area she had been assigned to; names, occupation, ages, children names, that sort of thing. And, sadly, if any family were missing. Officially, it was a census to pinpoint how many beings had been lost when the station was ripped apart by the Breen terror attack. Unofficially, she was glad for the security precaution, to make sure that everyone misplaced to the Lewis was supposed to be there, and they had no unwelcome infiltrators. Hey, she was a security officer and had good reason to be paranoid, so sue her.

 

JoNs finished up with one group and moved onto the next within the converted cargo bay, with its rows of bunks and separation tarps. She suddenly stopped in the middle of the controlled chaos and just gazed around, as a wave of emotions and questions crashed over her.

 

The Caitian had not shed a tear yet. Not that she made it a habit of bawling, thank you, but it seemed odd. She just didn’t seem to have any emotions toward what had happened to the station. She didn’t even feel any anger toward the Breen attackers. Why? Delayed reaction? The only emotion she had felt had been misplaced anger toward Aegis’s defense grid, for not doing a good enough job. In reality, that grid was probably the reason JoNs was standing here musing, or any of the crew were alive.

 

The only other emotion she had felt had been pure fear at being trapped on the station as it was bombarded. Great Bird of the Galaxy, they had all been trapped on a floating tin can. JoNs knew that eventually, she would come to terms with everything that had happened, but it would definitely take time.

 

She shook these thoughts from her head and headed toward an adjacent section of the cargo bay, walking through a small storage area for shuttle and replacement parts. There were three Lewis crewmembers wearing jumpsuits indicating they were with maintenance. JoNs nodded amiably as she passed by.

 

“Excuse me, sir?” The sir held a slight air of contempt on it.

 

She stopped and turned toward the voice, and immediately tensed based on the man’s body language, which was not welcoming.

 

He was taller then her, human, with a crew cut and angular features and long hawkish nose. The blunted tip shape to his ears hinted at some distant Vulcan genes. His face gave him a shifty quality that the Caitian immediately disliked. However, she wanted to see what he had to say.

 

“Yes, Ensign?” In his late forties and a career ensign? Big surprise there, what with the attitude that oozed from him, no matter how low key it was.

 

“Back off Brenner, no one needs you to go into your act right now with the officer,” said a younger Andorian woman from behind me and toward the back of the room. The third maintenance tech, a Bajoran male that might have had some Klingon blood as well, looked equally grim at what was unfolding

 

Brenner flashed a cocky smile that confirmed JoNs’s initial read of his personality. This Petaq had the wolf pack mentality, an Omega male with aspirations to be an Alpha, at least in his own little world. Capable in his job, worked well enough with his subordinates, and slid under the radar just enough with his superiors.

But, gods help anyone that he felt that he could bully, such as a displaced officer that had no authority on the Lewis.

 

His attention turned back to me. “You people on the Aegis really got your chronometers cleaned. What happened? The Breen sneak up on you?” He began to walk toward me with a confident air that he had no right exuding. There was at least one on every posting in the Starfleet, the Cocky So and So. If he didn’t latch onto the Caitian, he would have located and found another target. So be it.

 

“You people are supposed to protect this sector, not lose your station to some terrorist attack.”

 

One more step, just one more. She knew that her emotions were running high, as were everyone else’s that had been displaced from the Aegis. She knew she should just walk away, and act like an officer instead of slipping into a lower decks mentality, but she didn’t.

 

JoNs’s right paw shot out, dropping the data padd, and her claws popped out. She stuck them right under his chin as he got closer, poking lightly at the soft skin there. He froze, his hands away from his sides, and a look of terror flashed in his eyes.

 

Without taking her eyes off of Brenner, JoNs spoke to the Andorian and Bajoran behind her. “Stay out of this please.” Her tail was lashing.

 

A low chorus of “absolutely, not a problem” came in response and then a hasty “excuse us sir” as they exited through the door to the nearby shuttle bay. Again, she wasn’t surprised that Brenner had engendered no loyalty among his crewmates as well.

 

Left Ear started moving sideways back into the cargo bay she had just exited from. A dangerous light shown in her normally calm, green eyes.

 

“Move with me Francine, unless you want some nice painful puncture marks.” Brenner had started to sweat.

 

A hush came over those civilians closest to the maintenance storage room as the pair came out.

 

“Stay.” Brenner stopped, standing on tip toes so he wouldn’t put any pressure on his lower jaw where it touched JoNs’s claws.

 

“Listen very close Francine.” He didn’t even rate to be addressed at his rank, name, or with a Mister. “These poor beings now have no home to go too, and ran for their lives in that terror attack. A station, a good station, one where we worked and played, is now gone. And now, we have to be on the same ship with a Petaq like you? Oh happy day. I strongly suggest you go about your duties, and refrain from commenting on what you think you know about the current situation in this sector, if you get my drift. Do you get me Francine?” One claw pressed a bit on skin, and he gulped audibly. She would take that as a yes.

 

The gleam faded from the Caitian’s eyes, but she kept her teeth bared. She backed off a step and merely pointed toward the storage area they had just exited. “Go. Duties. Now. Annoyed cat. Don’t let me see you. Avoid.” She let loose with a mild hiss. Francine, errr, Brenner, double timed it out of that cargo bay.

 

JoNs then turned toward the small group of civilians that were aware of what just happened. “Ladies and gentle beings, I apologize for that, but thank you for being my visual aid for that lesson.”

 

The Caitian nodded to the group and then left the area, scooping up her dropped padd as she passed through the small room separating the two cargo bays to continue her duties.

 

Sometimes playing the bad cop angle did have its advantages.

 

Lt. (JG) MVess “What Claws” JoNs

Assistant Security Officer