"Corianis Mining Camp"

[Kansas 0]

Note: this Plot Log is set an hour into the two hour time between sims.

 

07.09.09

USS Agincourt NCC-81762

“Corianis Mining Camp”

 

Commander Kansas ‘Will’ JoNs materialized on the planetary surface of the colony world Corianis, and once she had recovered from the quick three second transporter effect, her keen felinoid senses immediately took in the area around her.

 

Her current location was set just outside a mining camp that had been established a few years ago after the main city had been built and squared away; over the intervening years, the camp had become less a camp and more a layover point for any workers and travelers who were heading out to the other dilithium mining camps scattered across the surface of the world. The so called ‘First Camp’ was about ten miles outside of the main Corianis city and boasted about thirty or so residences, businesses, a small hospital, equipment rental and purchase stores, and entertainment and drinking establishments that compromised an area equivalent to a twenty block city sector grid, and the buildings were one to four or five stories tall. There were also a bunch of sturdy canvas and plexi frame tents scattered about the perimeter as well. The layout and buildings of the larger campsite, even though it was thoroughly modern, evoked memories of a frontier culture.

 

For the most part, it was business as usually within the area, despite the clashes which continued to grow daily between the mine workers and colony management and the local police forces, which meant that the rioting skirmishes hadn’t yet reached this area as of yet. The reactions of the work clothing clad men and woman that JoNs passed on her way into the main section of the camp site varied -- some of them were wary, others seemed at a loss or maybe even a bit angry, others nodded in greeting, and still others expressed encouragement that Starfleet would handle the local problems between the miners and the main colony management.

 

Kansas wore her typical duty uniform: black trousers, command red jacket. She held a data PADD in one paw, and the device contained some digital notes and questions that she wanted to ask of the Human male that she was to be meeting with. She had also opted to wear the long black Starfleet field coat with the red piping that denoted her as a command level officer. The field coats were typically used on away team missions for some added protection against any weather elements involved, but for today, the felinoid officer thought that the coat would also be perfect to give her that ‘business meeting corporate’ edge for her administrative mission this morning.

 

The leonine feline moved slowly yet purposefully through the smaller later morning crowds that were milling about or gearing up for a foray out into the countryside. Within ten minutes she had arrived at the slate gray pre-fabricated building that had been designated as the main operations center for the local day to day administration for this camp site. JoNs entered the medium sized main lobby area, her hind paws tracking lightly on the slate gray flooring, and was waved further on by the security guard on duty who recognized the feline from a security packet that had been transmitted by the Agincourt operations officer on duty.

 

The Commander nodded to both the guard and an older Human female receptionist on duty, making her way past into what was obviously the heart of the office area. She knew that there were probably a couple of hidden security cameras recording her progress as well.

 

The Agincourt command officer arrived at the office entry way of Santo M’Shin, the local mine worker representative that was responsible for this district on the junior level. The only picture window to the office was set on privacy opaque, so she touched a paw to the control pad affixed to the plexi-steel pre-fab wall that made up the structure of the site buildings as well as the interior offices, triggering an interior chime that would let the occupant know someone was waiting outside the office. A few of the office workers glanced over at the Starfleet officer with a natural curiosity, and Kansas merely directed a nod of greeting in their direction. Most of them were Human, and for the most part they looked healthy, but had the typical weather worn faces of workers who had once labored hard for their pay before either moving into or retiring into the confines of office work.

 

A muffled but clear “Enter!” could be heard issuing forth from the internal office area, and then the entryway door whooshed aside to allow the Fleet officer admittance. The male Human ‘owner’ of the private office stood from his seat behind the desk as the female Cait entered the office, walking around the piece of furniture so he could stand a few inches away to greet his new arrival.

 

The olive skin complexion of M’Shin and his facial features were obviously of an Earth Asian descent, although over the decades his original geographic genetic traits had been diluted with a couple other Human bloodlines in the process. He stood about five foot eight inches, and had a compact and muscular frame; he was well fit from a good portion of his adult life spent working with and hauling out dilithium rock, and Kansas would bet that he was an accomplished hand to hand brawler if she was judging his ready stance correctly. He probably was getting a visual profile on the golden furred cat as well; it was a knee jerk reaction for anyone who served in the security or civilian police fields or maintained some sort of leadership position.

 

He extended a hand, and she grasped it in a paw; his grip was hard, tight, and he was obviously trying to make an aggressive point. His hands were rough from years of working with the dilithium rock. His dark eyes searched her, looking for any weakness that he could detect. The message was clear, from one predator to another – my colony, my job, you’re the intruder. His office held file folders, storage cabinets, and was neat and orderly, yet M’Shin was no paper pusher; he wore camel brown colored overalls over a long sleeved undershirt made of a warm sweatshirt material -- the clothing of a working miner.

 

“Santo M’Shin, Corianis Mining Union, District Representative.”

 

She tried not to wince at the pressure exerted on her paw as she responded. “Commander JoNs, USS Agincourt.”

 

Yet, in contrast to his mildly aggressive handshake, his tone and verbal manner was all business. “Have a seat Commander JoNs.”

 

JoNs made a mental note of the ‘vibes’, and merely took the proffered seat on one of the semi-plush visitor chairs; once M’Shin was settled back in his own desk chair, Kansas started on the questions that she had wanted to ask the police commander.

 

“How long have you been with the Miners Union Mister M’Shin, in a representative capacity?”

 

“Eight years. I first noticed the trouble starting about three months ago.”

 

“And the local mine workers were initially complaining about the working conditions of the mines, the safety protocols, the need for upgrades?”

 

“Yeah. We were also responsible for stepping up the production of the dilithium, which tends to be a bit hard when we need to overhaul and upgrade certain equipment.”

 

“So, the grumblings turned into clashes, and the colony government started to clamp down?”

 

“Pretty much.”

 

“And what of the clashes with the civilian protesters Mr. M’Shin? Word has it that some of the incidents have gotten a bit out of hand, and the colony police are very rough?”

 

“Yes, they have. I’m not entirely sure why. I was a first shift miner for over twenty years, and we’ve never had these sort of clashes with the local militia forces before.”

 

Kansas didn’t even bother to ask about the Fleet Command element or who M’Shin might have heard through the local gossip grapevine sent out the orders. The Mine Union rep was a local, and would have no idea about any specifics as to who was sending out the orders from central command on Earth. If anything, by process of logical elimination, it would seem that Admiral Mkory was the front man for the Corianis situation and the dispenser of any orders … if he in fact told the local Corianis police to clamp down on the miners.

 

"Look Commander, are you Fleet guys going to help us or not?”

 

JoNs didn’t like Santo’s manner, or the way he carried his attitude. Her thoughts winged back to the ship to ship wireless conversation between the USS Jackrabbit’s master and Colonel Harper as the two respective commanding officer discussed the Corianis situation: whereas Captain Calestorm had been off putting towards the ‘Courts Caitian Ex Oh, Kansas had sensed no menace from the female border patrol command officer, just a no nonsense and bitchy attitude.

 

With this M’Shin, she was sensing a desperation about him set just under the surface. But then again … it was his workers who were in danger, and that usually didn’t sit well with anyone within a leadership position. It was no wonder the man felt pressured, and she attempted to way lay his fears and concerns a little bit without out and out committing to something that she personally couldn’t deliver on right at that moment. It was much too close to politics for JoNs’s taste, but part of being a Starfleet officer could entail diplomacy with some political leanings. You just swallowed your pride and dealt with it as part of the job.

 

The two of them continued talking for about thirty minutes, and the feline commander confirmed the Intelligence that the Fleet officers of the Agincourt and Jackrabbithad already gathered separately on the general colony situation. The golden furred feline also got verbal permission from M’Shin to directly question some of the mine workers who were located at some of the farther outlying camps. Soon though, the possible conversation arcs had been exhausted and the civilian and Fleet officer were both prepared to go their separate ways.

 

Kansas stood from her reclining sitting position on the chair, keeping her movements demure and professional. The interview had only lasted about thirty minutes or so, but that was doable. The Caitian feline had a feeling that the crew of the Agincourt would get answers elsewhere as well, and the semi-formal investigations that were slated to be spearheaded by the respective command staffs of the ‘Court and Jackrabbit would bring the shadows out to the light.

 

“Thank you Mister M’Shin,” the Commander nodded towards the man, her leonine features bright and alert, “That pretty much concludes what I wanted to talk with you about. Myself, my commanding officer, Colonel Harper, and Captain Calestorm and her command staff and crew will now be working together to help with this situation.”

 

“That big ship of yours could lay down some pretty devastating orbital torpedo bombardments in certain problem areas you know Ms. JoNs. My people could use protection from the local police and militia, and even that Calestorm and her crew from the Jackrabbit have gotten rough with the miners these past two weeks.”

 

“But we won’t bombard the surface, nor do we plan a bombardment on anyone Mister M’Shin. And we can speak with Captain Calestorm as well regarding those aspects of her … responses to the situation. Consider that.”

 

With a final respectful parting nod to the man, the felinoid commander exited the office and started to make her way out of the combination control station and office area.

 

As she made her way from the administrative building, Commander JoNs had one prevalent thought roiling through her mind: There is more to the situation here on this colony …