"Drafted Orders"

[Kansas 0]

Note: this Semi-Plot log takes place early on during the 36 hour Time Between Sims.

 

11.15.09

USS Agincourt NCC-81762

“Drafted Orders”

 

“They want us to WHAT?!” - Colonel C.E. 'Medusa' Harper from our 11.11.09 Sim, regarding our new assignment orders.

 

It had been a rather pell mell rest of the afternoon as the executive officer of the Agincourt had made her ship board rounds, checking in with a few of the departments as to the current working condition of the slightly battered ship and her slightly battered crew. She had been released from medical to light duty, although the ‘light duty’ aspect had been up for interpretation as the golden furred feline had discovered, what with the general responsibilities of a ships Ex Oh. Other then a slight warranted delay by the very concerned though way overprotective CMO, Commander Kansas ‘Will’ JoNs had eventually completed her rounds in an acceptable time and retired to her quarters for a nights rest in familiar and relaxing surroundings.

 

JoNs was currently ensconced behind the desk within the medium sized work area of her personal quarters, sitting comfortably though carefully due to her injury in the desks matching office chair. She wore only a short length silk bathrobe of pseudo Earth Asian design, the crisp white coloring of the garment offset by the robe’s delicate golden lily pattern: the front of the robe was half open, and the feline had a medicinal pack fixed across her abominable injury to further aid with healing the lingering vestiges of the assault visited upon her person by an enemy soldier.

 

The Alpha Quadrant front lines had been stabilized for now, and new orders had been drafted and sent out over the Fleet wireless comms to the Agincourt and a few other ships that had participated in the main front line protection battles; the Soltan forces had supposedly retreated (again, from this second full incursion into Federation territory), and some of the first response skirmish line ships were being redirected to these other missions that now took priority.

 

Will had no idea of the contents of the other order packets, as she was of course concerned with the ‘Court’s orders proper. The lead shift officer on the main bridge -- it had probably been Lieutenant Commander ‘Sin’ Condacin -- had spoken with the main Fleeter offices in San Fran, and then the encrypted content information had been picked up by the ships secure computer server, and then the draft orders were then finally forwarded to Colonel C.E. ‘Medusa’ Harper’s private terminal as well as JoNs’s desktop terminal so the recovering command team would be able to keep up with the latest orders.

 

…the feline had to admit, her curiosity as well as her caution was peaked due to what she had just read.

 

The crew was being ordered to a new position at the Romulan border, and they were to gain entry into Romulan space and investigate certain assets and holdings that may have been compromised or stolen by Soltan agents. Currently, the Agincourt was to head straightaway to the nearest star base for layover and ‘bubble gum, duct tape, and spit’ repairs before heading onto the Rihan border mission proper.

 

The entire repair, prep work, and travel operation was to take place within the next 36 hours.

 

Kansas puffed a breath out of her delicate nose before speaking in a mutter to herself. “Well…damn. It’s bad enough that the Federation and the Starfleet can’t keep our own Alpha home space clear of the threat, now we have to deal with spot repairs and then run off and babysit Rihan Empire Space and their problems?”

 

In another life or in another universe, that sort of treason laced remark probably would have gotten a ship’s XO killed. As it stood, it was a flat out grumpy complaint with no seditious leanings, and there were no assassins lurking in the shadows of her quarters preparing to take her out for the flippant remark.

 

JoNs grasped the mug of tea sitting within easy reach on the desktop and took a sip, gently placing the liquid filled mug back on its coaster before immediately opening another text mail window and composing a response piece for general distribution among the crew regarding the new orders that had been intercepted by the command staff.

 

It was the golden furred felines job as command second to shoulder the respective paper work that inevitably accumulated as the result of running an exploratory warship of the line, freeing up Medusa Harper whenever possible, and this newly drafted orders situation was one of those times. JoNs would type up a brief summary of the current orders and send the digital hardcopy mail out across the internal Agincourt computer transmittal server to all of the department heads and shift leads, who would then disseminate the information onto their departments and shift cycle personnel.

 

By early AM tomorrow on the first shift, and no later then the second shift, each and every officer and enlisted crewmember on board would have a basic understanding of where the Agincourt and her crew would be warping off to as well as their purpose for being in the arse end of Rihan space in the first place -- to do some investigating.

 

Once she had cleared that little bit of official business out of her Inbox, the golden furred Cait accessed another new mail that was waiting for her perusal; it was a specific text mail from Fleet Headquarters intended for Kansas, but she noted that the Colonel had also been copied in on the correspondence.

 

Expecting a general day to day Fleet Command to senior field officer email from the home offices, Kansas was really not very prepared for what the digital mail actually contained, and her jaw figuratively dropped to the decking as she perused the contents in all of their white on black typed glory.

 

“They want me to WHAT?!”