"Meet the Reapers"

[STSF Jumper 0]

“Meet the Reapers”

Camelot Station Log

Acting Ensign Jagrissa “Jumper” Honor-Scar

 

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Honor-Scar loped behind Reapers Squad Leader Carson as he led their newest squad member to the bunk area. He banged a fist on the bulkhead and shouted through the open doorway to his pilots. The squad lead stepped into the small bunk area where his squad was housed and proceeded to make the introductions. The area was the typical living quarters for the pilots of Camelot station: six bunk racks arranged with one bed on the top portion and the other one comprising the bottom section, a long table set in the middle of the area with two long benches to either side, and various posters tacked on the bulkheads. These living quarters were actually cleaner then some past quarters that the feline pilot had shared with other pilots, so this was a marked improvement.

 

“Okay pipe down and listen up you scabs. We have some fresh pilot meat here.”

 

Jagrissa flipped an ear back at the statement. Oh, now that announcement would go down in history as proper etiquette and such. Then again, this was the lower decks of Camelot so what was the Caitian expecting? Pink doilies and tea cups? Bracing conversations? Not very likely.

 

Squad leader Darjhan Carson, a half Human/Betazoid with the call sign of Swoop, made the introductions of the Reaper squad with their new pilot recruit. “Everyone, this is Acting Ensign Honor-Scar, call sign Jumper. She’ll be with us for a six month duty rotation to finish out her posting here on Camelot. During her time with the Reapers, Jumper’ll be our general utility pilot. She’s trained on the Lancelot, but for now will be piloting the shuttles, the Gwen Bombers, troop transports and the Runabouts depending on the missions we get assigned or deployed to.”

 

Jumper flipped an ear back but stayed quiet. Honestly, she was a Lancelot pilot. The other flight vehicles were beneath her skill level. In her opinion. Carson’s low level Betazed ability picked up on the errant thought but made no comment other then to wing a mild look of disapproval at the feline.

 

He decided to just continue with the introductions. “Jumper, this is Reaper squad. Beeline,” the tall light blue skinned Andorian male waved in her general direction, his antennae forward in curiosity, “Streak,” the dark skinned human female just nodded, “Hawk,” the Klingon male just snorted, and his forehead crest was quite prominent, “and Bull,” the light skinned Trill female just gave a quick smile to the tawny furred cat.

 

Jumper made a note that all of them carried a senior Lieutenant rank pin on the collars of their black flight jumpsuits.

 

Swoop looked at Jumper again. “You’re the replacement for our main squad line up. I moved up to the lead position after our former squad lead, Lieutenant Commander Ka’Janto retired from active flight status to be a full time aviation instructor at the Fleet Academy.”

 

A silence descended in the small bunk area. It was Jumper’s turn to say something friendly.

 

Whoops.

 

Her disgruntlement bubbled to the surface, and her main thought was that she didn’t owe these people anything. Their mission successes and training scores were in the top ten percentile across all the squads, but the Reapers were one of the more rough and tumble squads on the Camelot station and one of the second string pilot crews. Until this point Jumper had only been assigned to the first string pilot squads, and considered herself above the Reapers.

 

Swoop picked up on the thoughts again, and tried to telegraph to the Caitian with his eyes not to vocalize her feelings. But, the effort was too little to late.

 

Jumper swished her tail angrily and her mild growl carried in her spoken words. “Look, I’m just here to serve my time so to speak and get the hell off this station. If I had my choice, I would’ve stayed with the ‘Cards or transferred to Gaia squad. I didn’t train for this second string stuff; I went through the Academy officer program.”

 

And obviously she still had a lot to learn. Swoop stepped back a step. Just in case.

 

Streak, who had been standing the closest to the new recruit, suddenly went into action. She gripped the cat’s left shoulder and then drove her right fist full on into Jumper’s midsection; the impact of the assault doubled her over and lifted the feline’s hind paws from the decking; her breath involuntarily whooshed out of her with an “oof”. Jumper collapsed onto the scuffed deck plates and once she had her breath back she began to gasp and cough and her arms and paws clutched at her midsection.

 

Silence descended on the pilot’s quarters. Beeline calmly rummaged a medical scanner from the generic medical kit that was kept under the main table and then ran the scanner over the downed feline fighter pilot. When the scanner showed Jumper’s condition as in the green, the Andorian just shrugged, his antennae swaying with his amusement. “She’s fine. No ruptures or anything. She’ll be able to walk it off.”

 

Swoop snorted. “Fine. Get her moved into the free bunk. What’s the count now? She was punched out twice in like, three days? That breaks the old record the last time we had a junior pilot with an attitude in one of the squads.”

 

Beeline and Hawk complied with the order, picking up the stunned cat and placing her on her side on the mattress. The Caitian offered no resistance, and for once in her life was subdued.

 

The squads head honcho wasted no time in moving onto the next item of business, which included their orders for the day. “Okay Reapers, we’re scheduled for a supply run to one of the Avalon planetary bases today. It’ll be a standard formation. We’ll all be in the Lancelot birds as the escort with Jumper flying a retrofitted troop hopper loaded with the supplies in the middle of the formation. Once the supplies are offloaded, the Hopper’ll be taking on passengers heading to Camelot station. We got flight prep in twenty. Let’s move.”

 

The assembled squad all began to gather up their flight gear and helmets and started to file out of the living quarters one by one. Soon, the downed Caitian and the light skinned Trill pilot Bull were the only two left in the quarters. Bull tentatively approached the bunk that Jumper was residing on.

 

= = = = =

 

“So, what’s the deal Swoop? We playing nursemaid now?” Streak tossed the question over her shoulder as most of Reaper squad made their way through the corridors to the main flight deck of the station.

 

Swoop allowed a big grin to break out over his handsome and square jawed features. “Actually, yes we are Streak. The Caitian’s a good pilot, just a bit rough around the edges. Okay, wait, I take that back; she is beyond rough around the edges. Look, I know it will be a pain to break her in properly, but this request came down from the CAG himself. Lieutenant Jericho needs a good squad that can handle her more feral tendencies and streamline them a bit. That squad is us.”

 

The Klingon pilot, who was walking next to Swoop, turned to look at the humanoid Betazed as he finished speaking. “You think she really has the skills?”

 

He smiled. “Of course she does. I wouldn’t have taken the transfer if she didn’t know an aft exhaust manifold from the front scoop panel. Her pilot record is good. We’ll do well with her.” Then his smiled disappeared. “But, I’ve also talked with her former squad honcho, Kendrick. If we can’t tone her down, then she really will be dead before she reaches thirty. So, Reapers, we have six months with her before she rotates off the station. Let’s make that time count.”

 

= = = =

 

Bull crouched down on her haunches and reached out and with a surprising gentleness removed the Caitian’s paws from where they were clutching at her belly. The cat allowed the Trill to touch her because she was still a bit stunned by what had just happened. The Trill placed her right hand palm down on Jagrissa’s midsection and gripped the felines left wrist in her left hand. She also looked right into the young feline’s watery eyes, which Jagrissa found disconcerting even though the look in Bull’s eyes and the expression on the Trill female’s face were both gentle as well.

 

“Here’s a word of advice little kitty. Streak really shouldn’t have punched you, and I can’t say as I agree with her method, but I agree with her reaction. Pull back on that attitude of yours. You may find that you’ll settle in a lot easier. We aren’t here to be your enemies, and you don’t need to posture with us.”

 

The senior grade pilot gently disengaged from the properly subdued acting ensign junior pilot and gave her a lopsided smile that was meant to be encouraging as she stood upright. “Don’t be late for the flight prep, you’ve got fifteen.”