The Corianis Question

[Kansas 0]

Note: this log occurs within the short Time Between Sims, and will be continued in game for 08.26.09.

 

08.20.09

USS Agincourt NCC-81762

The Corianis Question

 

With Captain Calestorm of the USS Jackrabbit giving full control of the Corianis mission over to Colonel C.E. ‘Medusa’ Harper, the marine gropo hadn’t wasted any time with taking charge of the situation.

 

JoNs was beginning to understand why Calestorm’s call sign was ‘Crash’ as it seemed that the woman had a heavy hand and wouldn’t hesitate to plow through a mission until it came crashing to some sort of half-ass solution. At least the Colonel possessed way more finesse when it came to command tactics. Finesse they needed now: Corianis had a big fat question mark hanging over it in the subspace nether as to why the whole situation had degraded as quickly as it did, tensions between the local administration and mine workers aside. The only logical explanation could be that there were other, underlying forces exacerbating the situation that needed to be exposed...such as the group that chucked the bomb at the conference building.

 

As soon as Harper had given her first officer, Commander Kansas ‘Will’ JoNs, direct orders to personally oversee the search for the original protestors who had tossed the bombs at the conference building, the golden furred Cait had mentally gone into hunter mode; she was a hunter, and it was very hard for the so called prey to evade a hunter once they were out to take you down.

 

Now, the felinoid was physically preparing to move out on that hunt to see what she could find out, and she was planning on pursuing a little solo work. She could have asked any one of the Security or Marine teams on site to accompany her on her current recon objective, but any of the Humanoid species would unintentionally slow her down …with the possible exception of Gunnery Sergeant Hefner.

 

Cocky? Sure. Some of the officers would no doubt see it that way, if she were the type to brag…which she wasn’t. Mother, Father and Left Ear hadn’t raised a fool. Factual? Always.

 

The Commander had eyesight and ears that were species-conditioned to hunt. Large paws that could kill a full grown man with a well concentrated swipe to the jugular. She knew how to smell the wind and grab a scent from it. And she could use the shadows to her advantage, big time. This all came to her naturally. Yes, some of it had been even more refined thanks to her training within the Security field, but the skills were already there in the primordial bloodline well before the training ever took hold. Caitians might only make fair Marines due to the physical demands of the work, but they could be downright thorough within a small recon unit sent behind enemy lines.

 

Kansas was sure of herself, yes -- but not oblivious to the possible dangers of going at a recon target and trail solo, and she flat out knew that she wasn’t some sort of Super Felis Commando complete with a shoulder mounted rocket launcher: the Agincourt bridge officers were tracking her movements and prepared to beam her out quote “before the get me the heck out of here echo died on the wind”, unquote. In addition, Caine and Matthews were handling the perimeter radius lockdown of the various streets and byways that led into and out of the conference hot spot area, and JoNs very much planned to call the two senior officers for backup if the situation warranted it.

 

First though, she had to lose the burgundy command uniform jacket, as Flaming Target Lock Red just wasn’t going to cut it on a solo recon hop. A Marine issue dark charcoal gray jacket would work nicely to do some urban colony skulking.

 

She visually scanned the various fire teams within her vicinity that had made planet fall, her keen green eyes lit with intent, and eventually singled out two or three senior non comms that were identified by the standard uniform duty jacket they were wearing.

 

JoNs whistled, grabbing the attention of Corporal Reed, a Human female who was about the same height and weight as the feline. “Corporal? A word?”

 

= = = =

 

It had taken a short time, but JoNs had found a possible trail that hadn’t gone cold yet. Or so she thought. Or so she was hoping.

 

The observation target was a non-descript grocery and supply store front, just like all the others located within the colony city. Yet, unlike all of the other businesses located within the six block or so area that had been closed due to the scheduled conference meetings and resulting protests, this store had remained open. Occasional spurts of customers where going in and out of the establishment, emerging with bagged supplies and the like. If the feline officer found anything of interest, great and score one for the good guys. If not? Then onto the next clue or what have you.

 

Was this merely an enterprising owner, taking advantage of any other supply stores within the area being closed? Or something more? The next hour or so might offer a tangible bit of visual evidence, and Kansas would stay put and keep tabs on the comings and goings of the establishment.

 

Clad in her usual black uniform trousers and her ‘borrowed’ charcoal gray Marine duty jacket, the ‘Courts executive officer remained within the shadows of an alleyway between two buildings located across the thoroughfare from the storefront. To access the alley without being immediately seen by either the store customers or owners, JoNs had vaulted over a medium sized concrete wall that separated the alley from a park area set behind the two buildings in order to reach the alley. And while she did not like being closed in from the back, and invited possible attack from the front with no where to go, the golden furred Cait was also certain that the wall offered a barrier for anyone attempting to sneak up on her position.

 

Overall, if she was going to get scragged from every window overlooking the street level, JoNs would rather face a possible threat head on instead of getting shot in the back.

 

But sometimes you didn’t have the luxury of controlling every single option within the parameters of an assignment, and an officer accepted that. If you didn’t learn that early on (along with being able to duck -- very important skill) as an enlisted or commissioned officer serving in Marine and Security disciplines or any department posting, then you really didn’t last long out in the field, or became a detriment to the officers in your unit.

 

She tapped lightly at her communicator badge, and spoke in a whisper. “Will to Agincourt and ground relay team leads. I’m in a holding position across from a possible target location, repeat, in a holding position at a possible target location for our general group suspects…all personnel are to remain on standby…someone throw me over to Medusa…”