“Justice, Truth, Honor, Loyalty”

[Kansas 0]

12.24.07

ISS Agincourt ICC-81762

“Justice, Truth, Honor, Loyalty”

 

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Justice: when it serves me

Truth: when it serves me

Honor: on my own terms

Loyalty: on my own terms

 

… Credits: always

 

Lieutenant Commander Kansas JoNs stood in a relaxed parade rest, paws clasped behind her back, the very example of calm and confidence – outwardly, that is. Inwardly, the feline second officer and security chief was having a mental crisis, attempting to figure out what in the name of the Great Predator Bird to do with this current cluster frag.

 

The secondary cargo bay was deserted save for the small group in the middle. Four human crewmembers were down on their knees, hands clasped on their heads. Two security officers covered them with disruptors, and the final three officers that comprised the gathering were JoNs, Chief Armory Officer Zimm, and the female half of the cat’s personal guard – Lieutenant Mical. The blue skinned woman, her antennae at attention and her eyes missing nothing, stood to JoNs’s immediate left, while Zimm rummaged around in a nearby crate, muttering softly to himself as he did so.

 

The Caitians predatory gaze fixed on the four detainees, three male and one female. Sgt. Dede Rake and Private Duff Horton from the Marines, second shift, Lieutenant Joe Griff of Medical, second shift, and Ensign Kipper Tor of Engineering, third shift. It was a regular gathering of the departments, it was, and a bit rare when one thought about it. These little plots were usually enacted by members of the same department, and cross departmental planning of the illegal variety was usually considered too much of an unknown factor. She also also annoyed at the fact that two marines were present. Having jarheads involved, though a rare occurence, tended to make these situations even more complicated, what with having a marine commanding officer and marine executive officer in charge of the ‘Court.

 

“What’s the word Silencer?” Her purred voice echoed over the distance to where Zimm was working.

 

The tall, crew cut blond male moved out from behind the large transport crate, and walked over to where the feline stood, handing her the tricorder he had been working with. “The weapons and supplies are all there, nothing is missing.”

 

“Good. You want to deal with them?” She pointed a claw at the four crewmembers.

 

“Nah. Let’s keep it somewhat official. It’s your call Lieutenant Commander.”

 

JoNs smirked. Oh yes indeed, justice was to be served, but official was pushing it. Retribution would be on the Cait’s own terms.

 

The feline now spoke to the four prisoners. “Okay people, here’s the deal.” She held the tricorder aloft in the air. “All the evidence I need is here on this tricorder. Why you attempted to steal weapons during the first shift, I won’t even attempt to figure that one out. That sort of thing is best left to the second or third shift, but I’m giving away my secrets here. You may have gotten away with this little endeavor, but you were sloppy with your supply request forgeries and unlike our former armory chief, Mister Zimm also keeps very good armory records.”

 

The Caitian had begun a slow walk around the four officers, and paused behind them, continuing her little hoo rah rah speech. “With that said? There won’t be any official reports filed here.”

 

Sometimes telling the truth was the best policy, but not here, not now. JoNs was in a unique (or was that perilous?) position as an alien second officer. Running to her commanding officer or executive officer with every little transgression would be a sign of weakness, and she needed to establish her own power. Therefore, the feline used truth based on how it served her in the moment, picking and choosing when and how to employ the concept.

 

Four heads whipped around to stare at the Caitian in disbelief, causing Zimm to bellow out “Eyes front and center!”

 

Kansas walked back around to stand in front of them again, her predatory strides only adding to her barely contained feral nature. “Basically, y’all are mine now. I love going off the record, don’t you? But, no worries, I’m not going to kill you.”

 

One of the security guards, a young Vulcan and recent transfer from the ISS Hammer Forge, spoke up at this point, his one eyebrow arcing in a question. “That is not logical; they stole from the empire, subverted security, they deserve punishment.”

 

The feline pounced on the lesson opportunity right away; these young bucks were getting more and more vocal these days, I mean really. “Indeed Mister Voran. But, we have four miscreants. One miscreant would be much easier to blow away as an example. Killing four miscreants? That would be a bloody waste, create too much attention, and create quite the vacuum in the ships roster. Plus the fact, you get the blood rolling across the deck here, it’s messy, and maintenance needs to clean it up… etcetera, etcetera.”

 

The concept of honor came in many forms, some of them more warped then others, thank you very much.

 

“What do you intend to do with us?” Sergeant Rake spoke up, her long brown hair in disarray, and her right eye beginning to blacken where Mical had popped her one during the initial arrest of the would be smugglers.

 

A leer greeted the statement, followed by a happy tail lash. “Sergeant, I am glad you asked. Until further notice, you four are indentured to me. You will transmit a stipend fund in a fixed amount of my choosing into my personal account every month. In addition, since you seem to love the armory supplies so much, you will serve your regular duty shift and then pull a second shift in the armory, helping Mister Zimm with inventory, for a period of three weeks.”

 

The feline had found that loyalty was best served on her own terms. Always had been, always would be. And credits were always welcome.

 

The sergeant’s temper flared. “That’s ludicrous! I ain’t paying or working in no Squid…” The other security grunt, Hanson, moved to fire his disruptor at Rake, but the feline officer was faster, clocking Rake across the jaw with a backhand. The female marine slumped to the decking in a daze.

 

“Hanson, as I’ve said before - why waste the disruptor charge when a hit can work just as well?” The big guard merely nodded at the security chief and moved back into his guard position.

 

JoNs then turned to her attention to her Andorian personal guard. “Mical, take Hanson and Voran and escort these four to the brig. They can cool their heels in there for the rest of the night and then resume their normal – and new – duties tomorrow. Dismissed.”

 

Once everyone had cleared out, and it was just her and Zimm left, the feline second officer wandered over to the cargo crate and placed her paws to either side of the container, looking down at the weapons and supplies stored inside in neat and tidy rows. Zimm soon came up behind her, his hands and arms sliding around her lower torso. “Credit for your thoughts?”

 

“Lieutenant Zimm. These weapons are technically not recorded on the inventory…it seems a shame to let the credit value go to waste…”

 

The armory chief bent down to kiss the feline on her neck, his voice low and husky. “You don’t say. Perhaps we should do something about that, Lieutenant Commander…. ”

 

Can you say mercenary black market trading? Sure you can.

 

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Notes:

 

Rake, Griff, Horton, and the Tor character names appear courtesy of Starship Troopers 2: Hero of the Federation (2004)

 

The original Justice, Truth, Honor, and Loyalty concept is taken from Thundercats (1985) and the version showcased in this log is my own mirror-ized version, of course.

 

- KJ

Edited December 24, 2007 by Kansas