"Marine Country"

[Kansas 0]

Note: This Mini Plot Log is set during our One Week TBS, and involves some pickup replacement troops (mostly Marine) that the Agincourt will be transporting to the outer colonies for this Wednesdays (04.08.09) sim plot.

 

04.07.09

USS Agincourt NCC-81762

“Marine Country”

 

It was about midway through the first shift cycle and Commander Kansas “Will” JoNs had just completed a training session with the chief hand to hand instructor for the ships marine contingent. The felinoid executive officer now zoomed through the Marine NNC command area on all four paws, sporting black, blue and gray urban camo BDU fatigues. She was due on the bridge for the second shift cycle, and the Caitian feline wanted to clean up and grab some chow beforehand.

 

Six months ago, she would have probably turned some heads what with not only being in the general vicinity of the NNC, or “Marine Country”, but wearing the BDU’s as well. A lot of things had changed for the ‘Fleeter officer since the disciplinary training stint that she had been ordered to engage in with the Marine department, both personally and professionally.

 

In general, she had been fortunate enough to really get to know the officers and crew that encompassed the Marine department of the ‘Court, and it was indeed a whole new world. JoNs, like many officers with a background in security, had come up through the ranks with the typical inborn and drilled rivalry that existed among the Squid and Shark officers who served within the Fleet. While she had started to move beyond that assumption anyway after being exposed to Colonel Harper and her Marine soldiers, the Marine training education had blown any lingering rivalry that she felt towards the Jarheads out of the water.

 

Personally, it had made her more of a grounded officer. And then again, it may have been all the repeated shots to the head that she had taken during the training, and being thrown into the pool, and the general abuse, etcetera, that had made her a more grounded officer. Head trauma and all that.

 

And professionally, the mandatory training that she had been thrown into by former Ex Oh Lt. Colonel Day as well as Cee Oh Colonel Harper had been a benefit all across the board with regards to her fighting style, general leadership abilities, and general professional outlook as an officer.

 

JoNs had always gravitated towards a brawler type of fighting style. It was purely a natural pre-disposition, what with the natural claws for fighting and coming from a feline predatory bloodline. But, she had found that the Marine training supplemented her past security training nicely, further complimenting her brawler fighting style, changing it slightly, and moving it towards a more controlled fighting style.

 

Not to sound cocky, but since she had chosen to voluntarily continue the sessions, combined with the feline agility and paw swipes, were resulting with her morphing into quite the sparring and hand to hand combatical bad arse. So, why mess with a good thing, right?

 

A few of the off duty Marine scattered about the area shouted a few “Yo Ex Oh!” as she cruised on by them and her answer was her typical and enthused purred growl type of “Hoo Rah” answer.

 

Her path took her by the main NNC lounge, and loud laughter and shouting wafted out into the corridor. What’s this now?

 

The main lounge was usually filled with both enlisted and commissioned marine officers who were either in between shifts or relaxing and having a good time after a completed shift, but the ruckus sounded a bit more on the boisterous side then usual.

 

The feline commander skidded to a halt across the deck plating that lined the corridor and stood upright on her hind paws, generally curious at the commotion. She poked her leonine head through the open entry way, and was greeted with the sight of a couple of the junior Marine squads that the Agincourt had picked up from Starbase 74. A few non-Marine officers had also been picked up and assigned as Security and other departmental replacements for the Agincourt, but the two hundred plus Shark troops were the big ticket items, and were primarily scheduled for deployment out among the colony planets, and the ‘Court had been assigned ferry and transport duty.

 

Kansas didn’t recognize their squad designations immediately, but the rank pins affixed to their collars showed that the men and women were privates, all wore the full black BDU uniforms, and were obviously off the leash with any sort of influence from a First Lieutenant. The squads would most likely hook up with a squad leader after making planet fall on the intended colonies.

 

The junior jarheads were generally whooping it up and having a grand old time, also known as making complete jackasses out of themselves. A couple of the enlisted officers that were off duty and employing the lounge for some down time winged looks ranging from sympathy to annoyance towards the newly minted privates who were supposedly representatives of the Corps in general … gods help us.

 

The transportee soldiers were obviously high on excitement and adrenaline and when a couple of them spotted the newcomer feline senior officer, the usual big mouth of the group had to say something.

 

“Heeeerrrreeeee Kitty Kitty Kitty ….. you are such a good hunter, yes you are! You’re wearing Bee Dees, so I guess you’re one of us? Hope so, because security isn’t usually welcome here in the command centers“

 

Hmmm … not that JoNs would give in easily or anything, but perhaps Boonie and Keltex had been right about some of the jarhead privates not being the brightest isolinear chips in the control panel.

 

Holy Vulcan, you could have heard a pin drop.

 

A couple of the senior enlisted crew either did the palm to forehead thing, looked surprised, got the drill sergeant “I’m going to bawl them out” look on their faces, or just generally went all amused at what the young knucklehead had just stepped in, figuratively.

 

JoNs smirked and signaled the low sign with a paw for any of the ‘Court personnel present to mind their position and not advance on the targets. Obviously this bunch hadn’t done their homework about the command team currently in charge of the transport ship they were hitching a ride on.

 

Always do your research on a new assignment, right down to any transport ships you might be gracing with your presence, period. You just never knew when that information would pay off, and obviously this group hadn’t put two and two together that said former security Kitty was the ships new Ex Oh. She really wasn’t surprised at the general misinformation that kept working its way around the Starfleet because Central Fleet Command still picking up the pieces from the Soltan attack on the Earth.

 

And as a result, some of the updated information regarding officer transfers or promotions or what have you that had happened on the fly out in the field hadn’t made the rounds on the official Fleet information ‘Net yet. Still, all things considered, these cubs should have known to ask some questions of their temporary comrades about the current command staff in charge of the ‘Court.

 

JoNs merely sidled up to the blond haired and blue eyed Human male who had opened mouth and inserted combat boot, swished her tail, and clapped her big fore paws on each of the taller mans shoulders. A wide grin exposed her fangs. “A few months ago I would have totally decked you by now. Carry on Private,” she checked the name band sewn on his jacket, “Wakefield.”

 

His eyebrow flew upward at the odd statement, and he could only watch in further stoopid induced and “I’m heading out to my first assignment and I’m a bad ass Marine who needs to tear it up” confusion as Kansas walked away and re-crossed the expanse of the lounge room with a little spring in her step.

 

She muttered statement under her breath to the dark skinned enlisted officer hanging out by the entry way as she passed him on her final step back into the outside corridor. “Somebody’s in for a downright jarring surprise to their existence, aren’t they? I’d kind of like to be there when they smack into that titanium wall, you know?”

 

The Marine merely answered her with an “Aye Sir” and gave her a jaunty little salute as the senior feline officer exited the lounge area.

 

A golden furred paw tapped at the communicator badge affixed to the left chest area of her BDU jacket and instructed the ships computer to contact her Cee Oh over the internal ships wireless comm system. “Colonel, this is Kansas.” The grin in her tone was very noticeable, “Sir, I just went inadvertently undercover in the main NNC lounge area and I have some Intelligence for you regarding some of our junior transportee Sharks… oh, have we got a couple of fun loving and clueless squads on board … “