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LeftEar JoNs

"Wounded Psych"

Revenge is a dish best served cold.

 

This was perhaps one of the most overused and clichéd lines in recorded literary history. It had been used and quoted and re-translated in some form or another across the universe in dozens of the collected works of various species.

 

But, Left Ear JoNs was currently a proponent of this cliché, and she wanted some big time payback against the Wort Clan. Particularly, she wanted payback against the little goblin bastard that had shot her.

 

The feline first officer was dwelling in dangerous territory. She wanted to shove a phaser under the jaw of the yellow skinned Boganary that had ripped the shrapnel into her hide. She wanted to pull the trigger. A phaser on stun at close range to the head would more then do the job. She didn’t care that the bastard had looked no older then sixteen seasons of age or so. If you ran with a pirate crew, then you had better be prepared to take the consequences.

 

“Commander JoNs? We have both the photon torpedoes and regular torpedoes ready to go for the shipment.”

 

Left Ear turned toward the enlisted crewmember, cocking her panther-like head to one side and regarding the male petty officer with an intelligent light in her green eyes that hid the darker portion of her personality that was threatening to take over. She still wore the dark gray fleet issue sweat outfit that she had been wearing when she was discharged from the medical bay. The feline commander had been ordered back to light duty only by the chief medical officer, and even with the short burst of activity since she had been back on duty, if it wasn’t for sheer force of will and adrenaline the feline would be flat on her ass right about now. The attack had taken a lot out of her, both physically and apparently psychologically as well. She knew that she was wrong to have these feelings, but she couldn’t stop or help herself.

 

Corizon had assigned her to handle the ordnance portion of the preparations, and she had made it a point to visit the armory to check on the progress. The Caitian feline was going through the regular motions as a reflex reaction, and nothing more. She could interact with the armory crew, she could spew orders, she could keep track of who was doing what in the armory, she was well aware that most of the hoopla rescue prep was to get the baby back, and this was the most important factor of the whole rescue operation. But revenge was the all inclusive thought in her fore brain, not the rescue of a little baby. Not anymore.

 

Showing no outward signs of the private hell that she was currently experiencing, she purred a bit and spoke to the armory ordnance officer. “Good. Co-ordinate with the team getting the shuttle stripped down and clamp the ordnance where you can on the shuttle’s weapon grapples. The rest can be sent down separately if it comes to that. Thanks for your help Petty Officer; just standby and be on alert for the second set of orders that'll send the operation into full throttle mode ... "

 

She wanted to go planet side. She wanted to join in the hunt. She wanted revenge. There had to be some way to achieve what she wanted.

 

The need and desire for revenge was truly a dark place in one’s own mind, and Commander Left Ear JoNs kept slipping further and further down into the proverbial mental abyss.

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