"Senior Officer"

[Kansas_Jones 0]

07.29.07

ISS Agincourt ICC-81762

“Senior Officer”

 

“You’re still thinking like a junior Kansas. Little things, under the radar, afraid to get caught…If you want to continue your rise, you need to start thinking like a senior officer all the time…” - Colonel C.E. “Medusa” Harper, ISS Agincourt, “Carry a Big Stick”.

 

Lieutenant Commander “Kansas” JoNs, currently attached to the Imperial war ship Agincourt, was off duty, out of uniform, and doing something she did not normally partake in – sightseeing. The ship was on a week long layover at Earth, and she had taken the opportunity to take care of some business.

 

The felinoid sat at a small table in a coffee house, relaxing with a mug of plain tea and gazing out of the large picture window. The establishment was located in the historical section of Old Philadelphia, and there was a pleasant ambiance about the whole area. Sightseers, business suits, and a few non-Terrans were meandering within the area as well, making it quite easy for Kansas to blend in with her civilian business suit of non descript dark green and tans. A plain brown leather briefcase next to her chair on the floor completed the image. However, in reality, instead of a portable data device and data sticks, the case held a hideaway disruptor pistol.

 

The one element out of place in the area was the plain black stone marker located just across the street; the memorial marked what had been the home of Betsy Ross, the woman who had sewn the first legitimate flag for the then fledgling Terran government of the Philadelphia area. The house, built in 1740, was supposedly where the Terran woman had created the flag. The home had been made into a historical landmark in later years, but had been destroyed in a terror attack sometime during the early twenty first century. Kansas was a little fuzzy on the details, but the terror attack, along with a half a dozen other attacks on both historical and government buildings, heralded the eventual coming of the third Terran world war.

 

JoNs tore her gaze from the memorial marker and reached for her mug and spoke quietly. “Hell, the Terrans have such a bloody history it’s a wonder they ever got off this planet before they destroyed the damn thing.”

 

But, that was exactly what had happened; the humans broke away from the confines of their planet and then proceeded to wage war in the stars, with many cultures. Many had fought, and fallen. Others, like her people, had managed to skate out of the grasp of Oblivion, but were still trapped by the reach of the Terran net. It was an unforgiving universe.

 

The ambiance was shattered a bit when two uniformed guards walked past, one male, one female, both wearing the familiar gold of security as well as silver riot vests. The two of them had that “bored out of our minds” expression that comes with soft planet side duty, such as patrolling in a historical sector. Even the past was overshadowed when it came to modern safety concerns.

 

Her sharp feline gaze followed the two guards until they walked out of sight, and then froze on a spot down a bit and across the street. A blue skinned woman was seated at one of the rounded tables located outside on the cobble stoned sidewalk. She wore a dark charcoal business suit, and blended in just as well as Kansas was doing.

 

The feline officer activated the small comm device in her ear, using an encrypted channel. “And just what in Hades are you doing here?” Her tone came out hushed and annoyed.

 

The response was automatic. “My job.”

 

Kansas sighed. She couldn’t argue with that logic. “I was under the impression that my leave time was my own time Lieutenant.”

 

Mical’s chuckle could be heard over the open comm line. “Oh it is, but I still followed you as per my job. Oh, and the boys are not happy regarding your disappearing act. It took us a little while, but eventually we figured out the general area where you were heading too.”

 

JoNs’s people were good. Maybe a little too good. A small smirk lit her features. “The boys’ll get over it.”

 

“That was a nice touch filing a false itinerary report with ships ops. Zimm thought it was funny, but I do believe Master Chief Keltex was not nearly as amused with the false itinerary. The Museum of Natural History sir?”

 

“Hey, I can be cultural and expand my mind with the best of them. Fascinating places, these human cultural centers.” Kansas’s tone had turned playful.

 

“Yes sir. Totally sir…” Mical broke off the banter. “Incoming targets heading toward your establishment sir. One male Terran, one male Tellerite. Business casual attire.”

 

“Noted. That would be my contact and our third party. Stay where you are, move only if things go dicey. I’ll leave the comm line open. JoNs out.”

 

Starfleet senior lieutenant William Rile, attached to Fleet Ops, San Francisco, walked into the coffee house and immediately spotted Kansas. A smile lit his features as he came over to the Caitians table. “Kansas, you old furball. How’s the cat?” Genuine warmth showed in his blue eyes.

 

She stood and took his hand in a welcoming paw shake. “I’m good Riley. “ They had both instantly fallen into their old training squad designations.

 

Her gaze fell to the Tellerite male that had accompanied her sometimes illegitimate (and legitimate) business partner.

 

Rile took care of the introductions. “This is Lieutenant Kreval. Kreval, this is Lieutenant Commander Mrrett JoNs.”

 

 

Both of them shook, a little less warmly then Rile and JoNs had. Business was business. Then the three of them sat down at the little table that JoNs had staked out. A waiter whooshed toward the trio, but was waved off by Rile, who then spoke when the man was out of earshot.

 

“Yeah Kreval, just a bit of history, Kansas is the first of our squad to make Lieutenant Commander. Yet, she still deigns to hang with us Lieutenants. Personally, I thought Cross was going to make the senior ranks first, and you would end up on a penal asteroid Jonesy.”

 

She had always enjoyed Rile’s company; the man had an easygoing way about him. “And personally, I’m surprised you aren’t dead yet Riley.” An ear flipped back and she stuck a pink tongue out at him. “I did work for this rank you know.”

 

Kreval interrupted. “….the question is who you worked under to get your promotions.” A cocky leer was plastered across his almost pig-like features.

 

Kansas growled and stood up so quickly that her chair scooted back and slammed into the table located behind her. Her claws were unsheathed. Krevals hand-hoof disappeared below the table.

 

“Whoa, whoa! Settle down you two.” Rile’s hand clamped down on Krevals arm as his knife cleared the table top. His free hand pointed at Kansas. “You, sit, no claws. Scaring the help.” To Kreval, he said, “Dammit, I told you she can have a short fuse.”

 

Indeed, the waiter now looked at bit concerned, as did the manager. The few patrons in the establishment hurried up and left as well, leaving the three Fleet officers alone in the coffee house. The waiter and manager looked thrilled, oh yes they did.

 

Both of the combatants relaxed by degrees, Kansas retaking her seat and Kreval re-sheathing his Knife. The Tellerite snorted through his snout. ‘I can’t help it if cats are moody.”

 

JoNs took that moment to move the meeting along, before someone ended up in the hospital. “Riley had contacted me about you wanting to do some business. What’s the deal?”

 

Kreval took a data Padd out of an inside jacket pocked and slid it across the table to Kansas. The felinoid picked up the padd, activated it, and began to skim its contents. ‘And what am I looking at.” Her tone came out flat.

 

“My service record.”

 

“Okay. You’re assigned to the Trident…patrol frigate out on the Badlands border. Your specialty is demolitions. And it seems you got into a little trouble regarding?”

 

Kreval nodded. “Aye. I tend to get a little excited about my work. I let loose a little early with a plasma stun charge on a ground mission, and a couple security guards got caught in the aftermath. They’re fine,” he quickly added, “and I can’t help it if they moved slower then a snail, but the

Trident department chief is making my life hell. I want out.”

 

“And I fit in how?”

 

Rile jumped into the conversation at that point. “An associate put Kreval in touch with me, and I immediately thought of you as my secondary point man, or rather, feline. We’ve done it before how many times? So, it really shouldn’t be a pro…”

 

The feline had started to go cold all over as her pressure dropped.

 

“….whoa, Kansas, you all right?”

 

“Actually no, I am not Bill.” Her gaze latched back onto the Tellerite officer. “You want to contract Rile to falsify some records, make up some fancy orders to have you transferred, and you need me to take care of the other end of it in the form of getting you in my department?”

 

Kansas paused and gazed out the window, looking over at where Mical was. The Andorian woman knew the Caitian could see her, and was slowly shaking her head no.

 

The feline continued speaking without looking at the two men. “What’s the price range?”

 

Rile spoke. “Fifteen thousand credits for each of us, half now, half when we get the transfer completed.”

 

“I would have jumped on the job five years ago. But, times change…”

 

Her gaze fixed again on Kreval. “Not now. I pass on the secondary aspect of the transfer job Kreval. I recommend Rile, he’s the best, but you gotta find someone else to complete the remainder of the job. Right now, I am not contracting out for any lower level transfers.”

 

In most mercenary circles, a beings word was binding. If you said yes to a job, fine. If you said no to a job, fine. If you had a secondary or third recommendation that could handle a job better then you, fine. It may have been a rough honor code, but it was there nonetheless. And then, there were those of a different stripe - whereas Rile merely looked curious, Kreval was angry at the refusal.

 

“What? Explain yourself.”

 

“You heard me Kreval. I pass on the job. I have no problem with taking you on the Agincourt, but I won’t take part in a illegitimate transfer aspect. Try going through Rile legitimately; he can also make an on the level transfer work as well.”

 

Rile nodded respectfully at the compliment.

 

“Bull---- JoNs! You’ve worked with Rile before, he told me about that lateral transfer that you both staged on your ship. I need professionals for this, and I’d prefer to keep it out of the main channels.”

 

Her temper was starting to get the better of her. “Take a plasma chill Lieutenant. I am not the only game out here…”

 

He interrupted her. “…you and Rile pulled off an internal ships transfer! This job should be much easier to work with.”

 

Micals voice sounded in Kansas’s ear. “The good Lieutenant Tellerite obviously didn’t see your back after that ‘easy’ job.”

 

Kansas cleared her throat in a growl; she didn’t really care what Kreval thought, but Bill, who was starting to look perplexed at her refusal to take part in the job, deserved some sort of explanation. Her tail had started to lash and her ears were now flat against her skull, the outward aggression at odds with the business suit.

 

“Oh yeah, the transfer job turned out fantastic, Bill did his usual magic, and I got one of the best Fleet marines into my security department. Unfortunately, my commanding officer got a bit irritable when she did find out about the whole business. I got to spend a nice little fragging vacation in my ships infirmary recovering from eight lashes with a bullwhip. So, yeah, that explains why I am a little RELUCTANT,” she waved a paw in the air, “to help you out with jumping ship there Kreval. Again, I pass on the damn job. Look me up again when your file is sent through the right channels.”

 

Rile now obviously fully understood her reasoning, and had a slight look of sympathy. “Sorry to hear about that ‘rrett.”

 

She merely nodded tightly in her old partner’s direction.

 

Kreval was less…understanding. “So, the senior officer loses her nerve after losing some skin…”

 

JoNs snarled and dove over the table at the Tellerite, slamming into him and taking him down to the floor. The table and a few chairs flew this way and that. Probably the only thing that saved her from getting a knife to the belly was her feline speed and getting the unexpected drop on Kreval.

 

Micals voice rang out in her ear. “Sir! Don’t bite him! You’ll get rabies!” She sounded like she was running.

 

The manager and the waiter both bolted for the door.

 

Kansas straddled Kreval’s stomach, paw raised and claws ready to strike. She was aware of Rile trying to pull at her shoulder.

 

Real fear showed in Krevals eyes, and oddly enough, that stopped JoNs from slashing him across the face.

 

Mical came running into the coffee house, her handheld phaser out and ready to fire.

 

The patrol that had passed by earlier came running in on the Andorian officer’s heels; they had been no doubt been alerted to the blossoming situation by the fleeing workers. How come these patrols never seemed to be around when that guy (or girl) riding the hover bike cuts in front of you?

 

“Everyone halt! We need to see some ID’s now!” That was directed at the group in general.

 

Kansas heard the tell tale charge of stun batons. “Ma’am, put away your wep...claws slowly.”

 

“Drop your weapon Miss!” That last part was directed at Mical.

 

There was a few seconds of silence; no one spoke, no one moved. The only sounds were breathing and the hum of the stun batons.

 

Kreval broke the silence, speaking toward the ceiling, his voice carrying in the area. “Calm down officers! The wife and I were having a little domestic spat. She gets a little carried away. Wow. You should see her in bed.”

 

Kansas growled down at him, still perched across the bulk of his stomach.

 

Rile, who had plastered himself against the picture window when Mical and the patrol officers came bolting in, took up the farce right on cue. “Honey, it’s okay. I don’t think we’ll need to stun the two of them again!” He spoke to Mical.

 

Mical looked confused for a few seconds before finally catching on, and then spoke to the two officers. “Would you two be interested in some payment to keep quiet on this whole unfortunate domestic matter? Hmmmm?”

Edited July 29, 2007 by Kansas_Jones