"Alchohol is Bad, Kids"

[Kansas_Jones 0]

1.10.07

USS Agincourt NCC-81762

“Alcohol is Bad, Kids” or "The Exploits of Cat and Sin on Shore Leave"

 

Written by: Petty Officer 2nd Class Condacin and Lieutenant (sg) JoNs.

 

In the back corner of a murky establishment was a table with a few glasses of variously-colored exotic alcohols, a greasy basket of toasted grain chips, and a contrastingly clean Starfleet-issue padd. At said table was a slightly glassy-eyed, very relaxed looking female with a content smirk on her face as she watched the events at a table clearly displaying a game in the same vein as Earth's pool.

 

Also seated at the same drink strewn table, a furred felinoid was also very much relaxed, with a glass of cobalt blue liquid in front of her. One claw moved the greasy chips idly. "I swear I saw something skittering around in here..."

 

"Then go chase it, Kitty, you. You're rat control, aren't you? Why else would we have you?" She smirked lazily. "Besides, you need a tastier snack than these non-carnivorous delights."

 

Kansas leveled a companionable glare at Condacin. "If I chased the critters lurking in this place I'd probably get a bad case of diarrhea." She grasped her glass in a paw and raised it to her muzzle, taking a sip of the drink.

 

"So do you ever regress back to a more primal nature down in the Holodeck, Kitty? When doors are closed, do you crawl around on all fours and pounce giant ungulates?" Odile grinned, none of her usual underlying malice or "your answer might come back to haunt you" in her voice.

 

"Let's just say that I can have my moments." Her green feline eyes glittered with her usual mischievousness somewhat enhanced by the alcohol.

 

"Sometime I'll have to watch. Ever done an African safari? Kitty pouncing the hyenas?" She snickered to herself. "Or better yet, involve some evil human hunters!"

 

JoNs looked at Odile askance. "African safari? Kitty pouncing the hyenas? Uh, would that be before or after they tear me apart? Look, I'm a felinoid, not a house cat, and I do not go around randomly attacking things. Unless I happen to be on a date, then all bets are off." Shock settled on her features when she realized what she had just said. She looked accusingly at the drink she held. "Oh, this stuff is way too strong." She placed her drink back down on the table. "I need some water before I end up on my backside." Kansas raised a paw to get the attention of a server.

 

"No, no, she needs more of... whatever it is she has," Condacin announced to the approaching help. "She's just now getting interesting," Odile commented. "Besides, I'm collecting enough blackmail right now to last me for years. Only wish I had a recorder going to catch it all."

 

The Caitian flashed an amused smile at Odile. "Blackmail? I don’t think so. I've gotten some pretty good info from you tonight as well. Must be my investigative training."

 

"... I don't remember that. Though I'm infamous for not remembering anything I say when inebriated," the Xenexian volunteered. "Or do."

 

"Oh now that’s a comforting thought. You don't remember. Well, how about we work some of this out of our systems, just in case." Kansas nodded toward one of the open gaming tables.

 

"Sure!" She grinned, picking up her own glass, missing the 'out of our systems' bit of the Caitian's suggestion. "Looked like pool, which I am frankly worthless at."

 

"Me too. Let's be embarrassed together." The Caitian flashed a wicked grin.

 

Odile took a few uncertain steps towards the table, smirking at Kansas. "You think we look like targets for stalkers? Two girls out on their own? I'm tempted to think so, if some of these drunkards don't see the claws, teeth, and, oh yeah, the teeth. And knife."

 

Deftly grabbing one of the nearby pool cues, Kansas gave it an experimental twirl, treating it almost like a Bo staff as she turned to answer Condacin. "Taking all that into consideration, I somehow...don't think we are targets. Would you be a fool enough male to start something with us?"

 

"I might be, were I drunk and in need of female companionship. And desperate." She motioned the security chief onward. "Go ahead and play -- I'll just mess everything up."

 

With a casual salute, JoNs jumped right in and started playing, picking up on the rules rather quickly. The game was rather similar to earth pool.

 

After about an hour, the Caitian had won some credits from a fellow opponent regarding the outcome of the game. Collecting said credits had turned into a bit of a problem however.

 

Having retreated back to her little lair in the corner, Odile smirked lopsidedly. "So, how much did you collect, Tabby you?"

 

Annoyance pushing through the pleasant buzz engendered by alcohol, and compounded by the alcohol, Kansas stood before Odile, arms crossed and more then a little huffy "You're not going to believe this, but Snot Boy over there is refusing to pay."

 

"That little slime bag -- don't have the money, do you?" she called over, huffing. "How dare you! Let me at him," she demanded, starting to brush past the officer.

 

Her self preservation attempting to peek through her current state of woo hoo, JoNs grabbed at the Xenexian. "Wait a second - it is not that big of an issue, and we can't even use the credits they use. They probably can't cover the bet anyway!" That last part was snidely directed over to said slime bag. Self preservation - 0. Temper - 1.

 

"He better be able to, otherwise I'll sell his organs on the black market to cover costs."

 

Slime ball and friends had started muttering and pointing toward the two fleet officers.

 

 

Kansas bodily blocked the raging enlisted woman. "Do we really want this?" She scanned the establishment for any other problems, her adrenaline mixed with the alcohol in her system.

 

"You got stiffed!" Odile appeared a cross between frustrated, outraged, and ready to rip someone apart. "You're going to let criminals get away with that?"

 

JoNs's gaze continued scanning the room, for fear that slime ball had more friends then those standing with him. "They aren't criminals, they are hustlers." Kansas snarled that toward them. She turned back to Odile. "And not worth our time." More and more patrons were taking notice of the blossoming situation. "Let's just pack it in and leave...DOWN!"

 

A bottle of…Something Green flew at the two women.

 

Odile ducked, but not quite soon enough. The glass bottle of who-knows-what knocked her just hard enough on its descent to cause a small silence of concern on the part of the multitude. She looked dazed for a minute -- more because of the alcohol than the blow -- but more frightening was how angry she looked. Righting herself, she lifted a shaking finger to point in the direction of slime bag and his kin.

 

"War!!!!!!!!!!!" she declared, looking ready to lead what, had there been an enterprising journalist around, might have been dubbed 'Odile's Charge'. The Xenexian was as mad as an ancient Lamia, and she wanted some blood this night.

 

The noise in the establishment became high pitched. Glancing around quickly, but unconsciously shifting into a fighting crouch as slime ball and cohorts started to descend, Kansas hollered to Condacin, "You do not yell war when you're already behind enemy lines! Exit, stage left! Oh for the Great Bird..." someone attempted to grab the Caitian as she promptly stiff armed him to the nose.

 

Another bottle of Something Green flew, now smacking the Caitian on the shoulder, shifting her off balance. The smarter patrons were getting out of Dodge at this point, leaving Odile and Kansas to deal with Snot Boy and friends.

 

"Glad we have help from the yokel locals," Odile commented tartly as her right knee hit Henchman Number Four's gut solidly. "You'd think they'd want to help their new friends, not watch them be pummeled!"

 

Kansas danced away from Henchman Number Two and a Half (he was a bit on the short side). "Next shore leave. Me, in my quarters, with hot chocolate and a good holo novel!"

 

"You're security -- you'd never pass up trouble!" the Xenexian yelled, pulling Henchman the First back by the hair before knocking his footing out from under him.

 

"Yes, but I really like the option to make it to an older age!” The Caitian bit down on an arm that got too close to her face.

 

Odile stared at Kansas for a moment, eyes widening before an unnumbered, previously unnoticed henchman smacked her. "Ow. Ok, cat, I see what you mean."

 

JoNs tapped frantically at the commbadge fastened to her civilian jacket as the local authorities could be heard arriving outside. "Agincourt, two to beam up, immediat....Mrrph!" She took a punch to the head.

 

"Little Caitian wuss wants help? Never! We'll retreat on our own terms!" The Xenexian finished her bold declaration with a smack to Unnumbered Henchman's head. "And those terms include... now."

 

Kansas was in mid leap toward another Henchie when the transporter shimmer enveloped both her and Odile. Unfortunately, the momentum from the leap carried her right into the Xenexian when they both re-materialized on the transporter pad. Both women flew off the pad with the impact, much to the surprise of transport technician Crewman Ibane, who could only stare with his mouth half open.

 

"Eyes are stuck, Ibane," Odile hissed, the wind knocked out of her. "Or wait, Lieutenant, since you're the responsible, officer here... maybe you should tell him."

 

Dragging herself into a sitting position, Kansas glanced from Odile to Ibane. "Crewman, buddy, let's talk...this is not what it looks like. Well, yes it is..."

 

"Actually, maybe I will handle that." Odile smiled, very sweetly. "Ibane, sweetie, I know very scary and gory tales of The Knife have circulated throughout this ship -- and likely Starfleet -- by now. Unless you want to be a key victim in a story of your very own, hearsay about this never leaves this room. Clear as crystals?"

 

"Ibane, don't listen to her." Kansas waved in the general direction of the Xenexian with a paw.

 

"No, really, you should listen to me. Just remember what I've said. Now..." The scientist motioned to her skull. Effects of the alcohol were wearing off, and she was getting crankier, unhappier, and in more pain by the passing second. "I need ice. That green stuff packs a punch in more ways than one. You coming, Kitty, or are you going to be mollycoddling the transport techies?"

 

"Why is the floor tilting? Oh yes, I am coming. As you were Ibane." The man warily nodded at the two scuffed women. Kansas quietly spoke to Odile as they exited the transporter room. "That was fun. Insane, but fun."

 

"I haven't the faintest clue, Kitty. Unless... whoa, yeah, definitely tilting. We should tell the Colonel, or Prell, or someone." She looked at the approaching Caitian, feeling an urge to quicken her step. "You used your little fangs back there. Isn't that against the rules?"

 

Kansas poked a claw at a bulkhead to ensure it was bolted down. "Hmmm? Oh. Against the rules? Ahem, we just violated how many, and you're worried about my fang-age?" Realization dawned. "Do you think we were identified?" The Caitian stood stock still in the corridor, at which point it started weaving sideways, and her thoughts again shifted at warp speed. "Okay, this is not normal," Kansas glanced toward Odile. "This whole sideways thing must be us, you think?"

 

"Maybe? But if it's not..." Her voice trailed off as she lost her train of thought.

 

Turning the corner before them was perhaps the last person the pair wanted to see just then. Harper took one look at the two and the frown on her face deepened to a scowl.

 

Seeing that Condacin as well had trailed off into her own thoughts, JoNs poked her in the upper arm with a paw digit. "Come back toward the light. We have cookies."

 

"Hi Jellyfish! I mean, Medusa." Odile slopped off a salute. "Something wrong? You look like something's eating you..."

 

The poking became a bit frantic as the feline's gaze locked onto Harper and then Kansas turned her attention back to Odile. "Please tell me that’s another vision?"

 

Harper's nose wrinkled as the distinct aroma of non-synthetic alcohol curled towards her senses. "You two. With me. Now." She caught both of them by the back of their shirts.

 

"Me? What'd I do?" The Xenexian had a blank, innocent expression as she was hauled off.

 

JoNs offered a purred trill. "Sir, this is not what it looks like. Well, alright, it is. We will explain, that is if we can remember when the ship stops going sideways that is."

 

"I know I won't have the faintest clue what happened, so question me while the memory remains..."

 

Kansas jerked her head toward Odile as they walked/were dragged. "Oh yes, that will work. Your memory being completely clear even now and all..."

 

Harper ignored both of them in favor of half-marching, half-dragging their sorry butts to the nearest room. It happened to be the Security Office, a fact she noted with grim humor.

 

Kansas perked up as she took in the surroundings of Main Security. ”Oh good, I'm home."

 

”Ahhh... home sweet home, right, Kitty? Quite a good choice, Medusa, quite a good choice." Odile smiled contentedly.

 

Harper nodded politely to the startled officer in receiving, and proceeded to haul both women past the desk into the brig, where she shoved them onto the first bunk and stood staring down at them, hands on hips.

 

Odile stared as she stood up, her mouth agape. "But Lottie!! We haven't done anything! Nothing you wouldn't have done, at least..."

 

The "mood" exuding from Harper finally touched on JoNs's felinoid instincts. She cleared her throat, finally coming around to the fact that all was not well.

 

Harper glared at Condacin. "I just got a call from the local authorities," she hissed. "They were decidedly Not Happy."

 

A paw shot out to grab Odile by the back of the shirt to bring her back sitting on the bunk next to the Caitain.

 

"Hey, watch the claws, Cat." She looked up at the human. "Why not?"

 

"As I understand it," the colonel snapped, "the two of you double-handedly destroyed an entire bar!"

 

"Us? Now now, Colonel, do we seem like the sorts who could possibly destroy an entire bar?"

 

"Yes." Kansas offered helpfully.

 

"Would you really like an answer to that, Deathwish?"

 

"No ma'am," she replied, cowed.

 

JoNs spoke up at that point. "Ma'am, if it will help the situation, as the ranking officer I can...I will...take responsibility. Everything happened quite fast down there. Tempers flared, and things obviously got out of hand."

 

Harper looked them both over contemptuously. "Fortunately for you both, the locals are a reasonably understanding bunch. So I think we'll fall back on an old law enforcement practice from the days before synthahol: the drunk tank."

 

"Do I want to know?"

 

The Caitian merely offered a ragged, sighed purr.

 

"It's a charming old custom," Harper said with some relish, "whereby the miscreants in question get to suffer through the misery caused by their own actions, while shut up somewhere they can't inflict themselves on an innocent population."

 

The Xenexian just had to ask, "Define suffer, dear?" JoNs just winged a look at Condacin.

 

"Ask me again in about 12 hours," the colonel said. Then she paused, leaned in a bit, and took a whiff of the alcohol scent coming off Odile. "Maybe sixteen," she amended.

 

JoNs shot up off the bunk, an action she instantly regretted as the room wavered, and looked up at the marine executive officer. "Sir, we both apologize." She kicked Odile. "If you need to file a report, there are available Padd Forms in my office."

 

"Wholeheartedly. Oww!" Odile rubbed at the offended leg.

 

"I'm sure I'll have plenty of time to look into that," Harper replied cheerfully, stepping backwards out of the cell. She touched the control and the force field sprang up before her. "When you two are sober again, you can help make repairs to the bar. Rest up."

 

The End.

 

Special Guest Appearance: Colonel C.E. Harper

Edited January 11, 2007 by Kansas_Jones