"Recon Op: Tranquilizer”

[Kansas_Jones 0]

06.08.07

USS Agincourt NCC-81762

“Recon Op: Tranquilizer”

 

(This log takes place fifteen minutes after the conclusion of the staff meeting)

 

“…so, that is where we currently stand. Go in, evaluate, and then diffuse the situation with minimal force as necessary.” Kansas JoNs stood, leaning against a storage crate, arms crossed over her chest; her tail tip was quivering slightly, indicating her distaste over the current ‘recon mission’.

 

Crewman TSelt - who had been on detachment duty to the Armory along with her patrol mate Petty Officer Kreval when Commander JoNs had tracked them down - picked up the conversation. “The Lieutenant Colonel is unarmed?” Her rich, aristocratic voice carried an authority kept in check out of respect for a superior officer of rank rather then age.

 

The Caitian chief nodded. “Aye – other then the free weights she keeps flinging like a discus. Lieutenant Mical is currently monitoring the video feed in the offices. Lt. Colonel Day has compromised fifty percent of the marine gym.”

 

Kreval gave a quick snort through his pig-like snout. “That is one angry Vulcan.”

 

JoNs nodded at her Tellerite officer. “Yes, but we really don’t know the why at this point, or if something happened to her to cause her to go bat######, pardon the Terran saying. We will hold any judgment on our Exec.”

 

The Vulcan officer adroitly redirected the conversation to tactics. “You have a plan Lieutenant Commander? You had mentioned my attempting to ‘talk down’ Colonel Day as a fellow Vulcan?” Her coffee colored eyes quickly flicked to Kreval as she stated the rank during the reiteration of the mission parameters. TSelt had won fifty credits from her Tellerite companion – the Vulcan had correctly surmised that the young Cait would reach the rank of Lieutenant Commander before the ship exited the Perseus Arm. Kreval had lost the bet. Life was good.

 

JoNs’s keen eyes had picked up on the subtle exchange there. Is she still riding him regarding that lost bet? Good for her. She nodded her affirmation. “Yes, but you both know to adapt on the fly as needed.”

 

The feline reached for the small-caliber phaser rifle propped against another crate, tossing it to Kreval. The big Tellerite easily snatched it from mid air with a stubby hand-hoof. He immediately checked the settings and power charge.

 

TSelt raised an eyebrow that spoke disdainful volumes. “Force Commander? Against one of our own?”

 

Kansas’s green eyes flashed with a weariness that aged her a few years. “Yes TSelt, we do seem to be doing quite a bit of that lately. Honestly, though, with the Colonel doing her impression of a Galactic Olympics discus thrower on Ketracel, this is a needed precautionary measure.” She pointed a claw at the weapon reposing in Kreval’s grasp..

 

The felinoid then turned her attention to Kreval. “Mister Kreval, you are, of course, within the top five percent of the Agincourt sniper specialists. While TSelt talks down the Lieutenant Colonel, I want you to work around behind our marine XO; utilize the auxiliary repair entrance or the catwalk accesses if you need to.”

 

The feline officer paused, eyeing the two enlisted officers. “I want to make this very clear that if the negotiations fail, and there is an opening, take the shot – my standing orders – and tranq the Lieutenant Colonel. I’ll sort out any repercussions later.”

 

“Mical will be monitoring the data feed; if you two are in over your heads then she will contact Lieutenants Nimetti and Black-Knight as the backup response. Beyond that, if the situation enters into Code Red territory, we send in the Marines for the Marine.” A grim, sad smile briefly graced her leonine features.

 

Kreval rose from the crate he had been sitting on, slinging the rifle over a broad shoulder. TSelt moved closer to the male, towering over her stocky comrade by a good six inches.

 

Kansas nodded. “Dismissed, good luck, and please watch yourselves.”