"Example"

[Kansas_Jones 0]

Note: This log takes place immediately after the 10.29.08 sim.

 

10.29.08

USS Agincourt NCC-81762

“Example”

 

After speaking to and imparting some low level interrogation information to Lieutenant Commander Condacin regarding the saboteur that had destroyed the Xenexian scientists lab and then making a proper and full report on the detainment and questioning of Midshipman Joseph Chase to Colonel Harper, Commander Kansas JoNs retired to her temporary quarters to nurse her injured paw. In one paw she held a large mug of a ‘comfort drink’ – hot chocolate. Her other paw was wrapped in a gauze bandage, and the bandage held a small ice pack in place over the bruised section of her paw. It hurt. Then again, maybe she deserved to feel some hurt.

 

She didn’t feel up to going to the medical bay, no. And, she would have much rather returned to her own quarters, but until the Alpha deck was fully repaired using the facilities of the local star base the big ship was en route for, the temporary living area would have to do.

 

There was one being that would be coming to see her however; he always checked in on the cat, like a doting father, ignoring the fact that she out ranked him by several ranks. It just didn’t matter to him. She had been unofficially and officially adopted as his officer charge. There were worse lots in life to be dealt, this was true. And not everyone had the distinction of a having a Klingon foster parent, no indeed.

 

The internal entrance chime went off, indicating that someone wished entrance to the personal quarters. JoNs called out “Enter” in a rather tired tone.

 

The entrance doorway whooshed open, admitting the big hulking form of one Master Chief Petty Officer Keltex, Chief Security NCO. The silver haired Klingon waited for a few seconds while his keen eyes adjusted to the dim interior of the living quarters before taking another few steps over to where Kansas stood. The big enlisted officer didn’t say a word, just enjoyed the view of the stars and dark space with his commissioned officer counterpart.

 

The golden Caitian purred a bit, a sad tone of dejection. “I beat the hell out of Midshipmen Chase Keltex. I pounced on him down in the main armory to apprehend the little Petaq, and then I cracked my paw when I decked him a good one down in the brig. Of course, this was all not exactly by the book, but then I just heard from Brig Watch Officer Lieutenant Mical that Lieutenant Nimetti decided to follow suit and rammed Chase’s head into the bulkhead when he wouldn’t shut up and kept ranting about his affiliation or some such with a nasty type of organization.”

 

The big craggy fore-headed Klingon stayed silent for a few moments before speaking. “These things happen; the situation is unfortunate all around Commander Kitten.”

 

“Is that the kind of example I want to set as Executive Officer though?”

 

“I do not know – is it?”

 

“No … “

 

“Of course you do not. But, you cannot help your underlying feral nature Kansas. And, these are definitely not normal times. In some ways, we are all scared or unsure and we react accordingly.” Again, the old Klingon warrior was as always wise beyond his years.

 

“Nature doesn’t five me a free ticket to beat down on the locals if they miss a payment or step out of line, so to speak. Swatting with the paw is a common disciplinary punishment among felines … it doesn’t translate very well into these other species.”

 

“Well, no. You may have let your temper control you, again, but dwelling on the issue will not change what has happened. The situation now calls for the swift and through questioning of the suspect, and then we remand him over to the nearest star base authorities."

 

JoNs shook her head a little, as if coming out of trance; her eyes remained focused on a distant star as it whooshed by the window. “Aye. We’ll be pulling into dock in just under a few hours. By then most of the questioning of the suspect will be processed and the data text in some sort of coherent security report.”

 

The Master Chief raised an elegant and bushy silver eyebrow. “The lower decks scuttlebutt has Chase ranting about the Sons and Daughters of Righteousness?”

 

“Aye. Supposedly, he set the bomb in the science labs in the name of the organization. Sounds like a general anti alien nut job group.”

 

Keltex snorted. “It would seem they chose the post Soltan attack chaos to spread their evil seed, perhaps activating young officers they have recruited to do their dirty work? They have no honor, hiding behind the young and false messages.”

 

“…don’t these groups always seem to crop up when the last thing sector stability needs is over exuberant anti alien nut jobs? He completely hosed me Keltex; I worked with Joseph in Africa, and I didn’t see through the façade … what if he had killed more people with that bomb?”

 

The golden furred feline drained the last of the hot milk chocolate and placed the stained mug on a nearby coffee table. Then, she turned her inquisitive green eyes on the tall Klingon officer.

 

“C’mon Master Chief - accompany me to the medical bay. Medical is checking out Chase to make sure he doesn’t have any brain damage thanks to the close encounter with the bulkhead, and I need to get this bruised paw looked at.”

 

Despite the severity of the general situation – crazed saboteurs, out for (and with good reason) blood chief science officers who had just lost half the lab network, uppity XOs and a security force who decked prisoners, a frazzled engineering department and an overworked sciences department as the respective officers shouldered the bulk of the repair projects and an Alpha section in need of minor structural repairs – the Master Chief barked out a laugh at the Caitian’s latter statement, the booming sound pleasant and comforting if a bit loud.

 

“Commander Kitten! I am proud. A year ago, you would have not gone to the medical bay to get that injury looked at! We have some progress, indeed.”

 

A small smile, caught somewhere between sad and happy, gently exposed the leonine officer’s incisor fangs. “Let’s just say, that the ‘shaping of a senior officer’ support network on this ship is a good one, Master Chief. And yes – there has been much progress in that regard. This thick skull takes a lot of pounding apparently.”

 

The gentle feline smile turned mischievous and her ears flipped backward in a playful gesture, “Besides, the Medical bay has the access to the good medical grade pain killers. Woo.”