"Delayed Reaction"

[LeftEar JoNs 0]

12.17.07

USS Excalibur NCC-2004 C

“Delayed Reaction”

Time: this log is set two hours after the 12.16.07 sim

 

The main lounge on deck five was hopping with activity, as was proper what with the first shift personnel going off duty and relaxing for a few hours before turning in for the night. Enlisted and commissioned officers, pilots, engineers, security – all the departments were equally represented here, including one half of the senior command staff. Commander JoNs sat at a table on the upper tier of the main lounge, calmly observing the general activity of the area. Her inner thoughts were anything but calm, however. With a disgusted shake of her head, the brown furred Cait knocked back her second drink since entering the lounge, and muttered under her breath. “The Vorta. Pfffht.”

 

The Dominion War. The Vorta commanders. Responsible for killing hundreds of officers and civilians with their Jem Hadar enforcers, and all at the bidding of their masters, the Founders. And now, at the behest of the Vorta ‘representatives’ at Camelot, the Excal had been drafted to find the Sangra, which will aide in locating the supposedly missing Founders.

 

Do we really want to locate the Founders?

 

The Caitian executive officer, for the most part, had stayed calm and quiet when Captain Corizon had informed her of this latest mission to find the Sangra, and ultimately the Founders. The official story was that the Excal had been dispatched to explore some of the uncharted areas of the Gamma quadrant. In the meantime, what the crew would really be doing was looking for this Sangra thing so the Vorta could possibly locate and then contact their former masters.

 

Do we really want to locate the Founders?

 

Left Ear ordered and soon downed a third drink – the good stuff, not that synthehol white wash. Rank can have its privileges, indeed. The rumors were true. Gods help her. – and came to a decision soon after. No, we really do not want to find the founders. Or the Sangria. Sangra. Whatever. The communicator thing.

 

There was more going on here, and JoNs intended to find out what exactly that more was. One of the flagships of the Fleet was not just “sent off” to find a communicative relic to attempt a link to the Founders or some such if there wasn’t more to the story. Who was backing this little endeavor, and why?

 

In a flurry of brown fur, the Caitian left the main lounge, intent on the new target and plan forming in her alcohol charged yet tactically hopping mind. She should have asked more questions during the conversation that she and Corizon had had after the commanding officer had returned from his meeting with the Vorta reps on Camelot. She had to start thinking more like an executive officer and ask more questions, plan ahead if possible, and be even more observant.

 

Therefore, the Big Bad Dog was going to have a second meeting with the Pussycat, whether he wanted to or not. That’s what Execs were for after all - someone has to keep these Captains in line!