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LeftEar JoNs

"A Quiet Drink"


USS Excalibur NCC-2004 C

“A Quiet Drink”


It was about halfway through the second shift, and Left Ear JoNs sat at a quiet table in the main lounge, sipping on her drink and perusing a report Padd. She was relaxed, but her feline features were set in a grim concentration. Mark had just entered the lounge with a dignified groan, after a long day of training security officers to shoot the enemy and not themselves. He made a gesture to the barkeep to produce his usual bottle of non sythehol whiskey.


The Caitian Exec as well made a gesture to a passing waiter to refill her drink of choice, mentally noted the appearance of the newly transferred security officer, and then diverted her attention back to the data Padd.


With his bottle in hand, Mark glanced over to Caitian who had just glanced at him. Putting two and two together as to who she was he walked over to her table. "Commander." He regarded the seat across the table from her. "Is this seat empty?"


JoNs pulled her attention away from her studies and regarded the man. "Lieutenant....Garrison? New transfer to security? Aye, sit down." The tone was more an order then a suggestion.


He raised his brow the slightest bit and took his seat, looking back at the Commander. He set himself into passive mode. These next few minutes would give him an understanding of how the Caitian thought and acted. It’s never wise to p*** off your XO until you know you are.


The feline was getting used to the fact that as an executive officer, your time was never truly your own. Not with a couple hundred crew people to look after as well as a captain. Or at least, she was attempting to make that transition. "What’s the word Lieutenant? Oh, if we have pirates overtaking the ship, don’t tell me until I finish my drink." The statement was deadpan, but a mischievous glint could be made out in her green eyes.


He poured himself a large helping of the whiskey and took a large drink setting it down with a grin. "I could only be so lucky. I'm beginning to think that I'm going to have to kill a few of my ensigns to whip the others into shape."


"You and Mister Segami have a wet behind the ears department this time around? I'm sure the vets that re-signed on for the mission are a help."


Another sip. "Unbelievably. But we decided its best for not to post the vets with the greens for training purposes, before we get too thick into it out here. I just seem to have drawn the worst group..."


The brown furred feline nodded in commiseration, and then headed the conversation to business. "Mister Garrison, not to seem rude - but did you want to talk to me about something official?" One brown cat ear flipped back in curiosity.


He took another drink, and produced a padd, which he always seemed to have an over abundance of. "Yes Commander, I do." He slid the padd across the table to her. "For the last couple weeks I've been doing a survey of the ship, determining likely points of attack, and suitable methods of defense. Some of the things on here aren't exactly doable without command staff authorization."


"You've been surveying the ship on your own time? Son, I'm not sure whether to tell you to take a break or find a hobby." Regardless, the brown furred Cait looked at the Padd with the schematics with interest. After a moment, JoNs looked again at Garrison. "Okay, I like what I see, but here's the deal Lieutenant Garrison - you need to forward this through Lieutenant Commander Segami. I can't just leap frog over him and order these changes and such. Then, any requests come to me, and I go to Corizon."


He nodded, refilling his cup. "Of course I intend to. I just wanted to make sure you and the Captain wouldn’t bite before I potentially waste more time."


"Oh no worries. He bites. I scratch. Keep that distinction straight there." JoNs handed the Padd back to Garrison. "Fine then. Enter the upgrade report to Segami, and the command staff will go from there. You'll be kept informed Lieutenant."


He nodded again, and took a sip of his whiskey, beginning to feel the fire in his belly. He made a quick order for a sandwich, but sat in silence, not exactly sure of what else to say.


"What was your last assignment before the Excal Mister Garrison?"


He blinked, not expecting her to continue on the conversation, let alone with that opener. "I served on the USS Mercutio, an Intrepid class for six years from the '75 until a year ago."


"I served in security and piloting on a variety of assignments prior to the Excal." Her green eyes latched onto Garrison with an intensity, very cat like and a bit unnerving. "Do you have a secondary specialty Lieutenant?"


He took yet another sip, the tell tale signs of inebriation starting to show. "Uh, not really I guess. I took some training in the academy in fighter piloting for the war, but I never had the opportunity to use it. Other then that...I take to the sciences, but mostly as a hobby."


JoNs knocked back the rest of her drink and then spoke again. "Nothing wrong with having a few interests." She set her glass down and then turned those green eyes on Garrison again, her own alcohol bringing her ornery side to the surface. "But one more thing Lt. Garrison - again, why did you approach me with those schematic plans? While I admire the intent behind your readiness plan, we do have a command chain here. I expect all the officers to follow it, starting with an officer going first to their department head."


He smirked, and took another sip, really starting to feel the booze. "Oh, I believe in Command, trust me. This is just an informal meeting, no? Like I said, what is the point in doing what I'm doing if the command staff won’t approve it anyway? Sometimes it’s helpful to go around the chain of command."


"Fine, at least you're honest. I can deal with that." Her easy going tone belied her ears, which had by now gone flat. "If you'll excuse me, Mister Garrison. Thank you for the...insight. And you will be kept informed, trust me." The feline got up from the table, and nodded politely, if a bit stiffly. The feline then departed in a swish of a tail and the red of command.


He nodded back, regarding her and then his drink. He took a sip, and decided to label her as 'Odd'.

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