"Hey Mon"

[Kansas 0]

Note: The following log takes place during the 02.03.10 Sim while I was MIA.

 

02.03.10

USS Agincourt NCC-81762

“Hey Mon”

 

It was mid to late afternoon on the planet of Ryder Major, judging by the position of the suns; the two resident Agincourt colonel’s had beamed down together as a team and materialized just off the main market, located within the middle class sector.

 

Kansas ‘Will’ JoNs had left C.E. ‘Medusa’ Harper a block up the street at the open market area, and the golden furred Cait was fairly sure none of the locals would mess with Her Colonel in the short period of time it would take for the feline to check in with an old friend and family contact that was still located within the business district; Kansas was hoping to gather a solid Intel lead if at all possible from her contact.

 

It felt odd to be dirt side, back on Ryder Major after all these years, but Kansas immediately fell back into a sort of routine, easily moving through the late afternoon crowds towards her destination; when she had served with the civilian crew on the Corsair, the cargo haulers had spent a good bid of time working within and around the Ryder-Presit system, and Ryder Major had been a regular docking and stopover port for the crews that worked and ran within the system.

 

JoNs was dressed in appropriate civilian attire for some planetary lurking and information gathering: The clothing was scuffed and well used, but clean and well kept. The leather flight jacket added to the image of a tramp pilot looking for work, and it was a cover job that Kansas could pull off and make work for her, as she had kept and maintained a commercial pilot’s license over the years. Runabout, shuttle, and small civilian craft pilots were way common enough on Ryder that no one would give her a second thought, and that was just what she wanted -- to blend in with the local populace.

 

She sent a quick check in ping to Agincourt operations via a concealed communicator, and after a few moments she had reached her intended destination. Kansas was pleased to note that store front changed much, and as a matter of fact, it had been fixed up and sported a new coat of paint as well as a clear plasti-glass window; Ol’ Raz appeared to be doing well for himself. The door sensor recognized an incoming body and pinged the entry way door open, allowing JoNs access into the condiment and medicinal store.

 

As soon as she hit the interior of the store, her nose was assailed with a number of Caitian spice scents that both pleased her and made her a bit homesick for her grandmother’s home. The store stocked all kinds of herbs, medicines, spices and sugars for cooking, and offered a variety of Caitian products as well as other species specific supplies.

 

A huge smile lit across her face when she spotted the sign still hanging prominently over the service counter: “NO, we DO NOT sell Catnip, so don’t even ask.”

 

Hearing the internal sensor wireless ping that alerted there was a new customer to be handled, the store owner came out from a back room, pushing aside a brightly colored beaded curtain that separated the back storage and work area from the main room proper. Kansas had to admit that when she caught her first glimpse of Raztafa, it felt really good to see her Honor-Scar cousin -- it had been a long time since she had been back this way.

 

“Mrrett Shaow!” He used her given birth name, and a big smile spread across the other feline’s muzzle, exposing his sharp fangs. “It is so good to see you!”

 

The older male rushed forward to clasp paws with the younger female, and then the two bumped shoulders in order to seal the greeting.

 

Raztafa Honor-Scar was what you might call an ‘old school’ Caitian, and lived a modern life that nonetheless harkened back to when the Cait felines as a whole were still hunter gatherers and warred at the drop of a spear over land and honor. The leonine-type male wore his thick brown mane in dreadlocks, decorated at intervals with brightly colored beads, and chose to wear the once common day robe garments; his smock was made of a silken material decorated with a bright green, orange, red and black tribal pattern. He had a private communications terminal, a console viewer to keep in contact with the outside world, and used modern equipment to separate and grade his spice stock. Yet, he followed the spiritual practices of the Caitians and was a self made historian on the history of the people.

 

The locals, both Caitian and non-Cait alike, would come to him for council and minor medicinal remedies and such, and he was trusted within the business sector. The Honor-Scar family line was related to the JoNs family bloodline, and Raz himself was also directly related to Jumper Honor-Scar as a first cousin on her mother’s side.

 

Kansas really wished the circumstances were different, but nonetheless it was good to see him again.

 

“Apologies for dropping in on you like this Raztafa, but it is really good to see you. How are the grandkids?” She placed her paws on her hips and cocked her head to one side, listening intently to his answer.

 

Raz spent the next few minutes filling Kansas in on his little section of the Honor-Scar family, and what his wife, the children, their spouses, and grandchildren had been up to since the last time she had been planet side. Then, Raz interrupted his own familial information spiel and gave her a playful cuff on the shoulder.

 

“Hey m’On, what is this gaff I hear about you going light colonel? Jumper was telling me. I seem to recall a young cargo jockey running with Mal’s Corsair crew when the whole lot of them got into a brawl with some Fleeter marines at that bar across the way…” he paused long enough to point a good natured paw at her, “…and you were the one yelling the loudest about them being dumb jarheads.”

 

Kansas flashed a brilliant fanged smile and winked at her elder cousin. “That was when I was younger and silly; I’ve been Marine educated and adopted since.”

 

He laughed, his deep purred tenor carrying through the store. Then he asked, “Jumper seems to be doing well for herself?”

 

“She’s still with the USS Pennsylvania as the ship’s CAG, just made full Commander. The Penny is currently on border patrol, Soltan high watch guard.”

 

Raz’s expression lost some of the playfulness at the mention of the Soltan, and his eyes flashed in equal parts sympathy, anger, and fright.

 

“How is Earth?”

 

JoNs’s ears drooped. “Bad. Cleanup and rebuilding’ll take years. The news vids really can’t convey in words or visuals the extent of the devastation and damage that the Soltan fleet caused.”

 

“Your parents are doing okay? I heard through the family network that they left their work at the Fleet Academy?”

 

She leaned an elbow on the service counter as she continued speaking, her tail swishing idly back and forth behind her. “Aye; they both moved back to Cait, and even though it sounds selfish, I gotta be honest Raz and say I’m so happy that they left Earth. There really isn’t much of an Academy left at San Fran to work for anymore; most of the surviving and any new inbound -- there isn’t many -- cadets are being sent to the remote campuses and training stations. Pardon me, but the Humans and Fleet Ops Command got hit big time in the gonads with that planetary attack.”

 

The two felines continued talking for a few more moments, exchanging information and updates. A Human female customer entered the store, inquiring about an order she had placed about a week ago for some Caitian and Andorian cooking spices. While Raz handled the customer, Kansas wandered about the store and checked out some of the spices and sugars stacked neatly on the tables and shelves in both old fashioned mason jars and modern plasti-aluminum clear containers.

 

While she was checking out a particularly fascinating looking bright yellow powder with her sniffer, the male lion glanced in her direction and quickly said. “Don’t inhale that stuff too deeply; the unrefined powder will make you see only in shades of green, purple and orange for the next six hours.”

 

Kansas shut her eyes, clamped a paw over her muzzle and backed quickly away from the shelf, eliciting a chuckle from her older cousin.

 

After five minutes or so, the female customer had picked up her spice and sugar order and after she had cleared out of the store, the two cats went right back to business and their discussion; Raz leaned his lean frame against the counter, and Kansas hopped up onto the counter top and sat cross legged with her paws resting on her knees.

 

JoNs cocked her head to once side and gazed intently into her cousin’s light brown eyes, getting to the intelligence gathering part of her unscheduled visit. “What can you tell me about the local goings on Raz? Anything at all would be helpful, ‘cause the ground teams are really flying blind here.”

 

Raz cocked his head to one side. “You’re gonna have a veken hard time tracking missing ships, let alone fourteen missing Romulan vessels, M’rrett Shaow. If they are located here in the R-P system…someone is hiding them very well. And, there is also the possibility the ships have already been broken down for spare parts and weapons. I also have to be honest Mrrett: I checked with my own contacts, and they haven’t heard much about this theft. Whoever is involved, they seem to be covering their tracks well since coming in system. All I can offer is keep your eyes and ears open in case the buyers, sellers, or runners make a mistake.”

 

“We have officers and crew from the Agincourt working in teams, gathering what Intel we can. We gotta find some sort of lead on those ships. Let’s just say certain…pointy eared factions are really interested in this theft. Rumors are flying left and right…everyone is seeing Soltan around every bulkhead…”

 

“You know that Mal and the Corsair crew would take you back in a warp drive minute, right?”

 

JoNs sighed inwardly. It was the same conversation, over and over again. She knew that Raztafa meant well though, and couldn’t stay all that mad at him.“I know. I had some good times during my run with them. Maybe someday, I’ll rejoin the Corsair boys and girls Raz. But for right now, I’m needed elsewhere.”

 

The older lion nodded once as if making a decision, and then reached under the counter top, pulling out an orange wireless coder data diskette. He handed it over to Kansas and then started explaining what it was.

 

“New contact coding for the Corsair; Malcolm told me to give it to you next time I saw you at the family gatherings. Open channel, anytime, anywhere, if you want to talk to him and the crew. The signal will reach the ship wherever they are, provided they didn’t get sucked into a black hole or shot into another quadrant.”

 

JoNs flipped one ear back in surprise. “Wow, okay…this is ‘Fleet level wireless tech, or very expensive civilian grade tech. It’s quite an upgrade for the old Dragonfly class ship isn’t it?”

 

“…the Soltan changed a lot.”

 

“…yeah. They did…the playing field isn’t level, as the Humans say. We know that quite a few of the independent civvie crews -- such as the Corsair -- are taking extra precautions just in case they get jumped by the Soltan. Did you know that about eight civilian merchant ships answered the distress call, warped in system and helped to defend the Earth?...the ships got massacred, all the crews were killed…”

 

Raztafa lifted a whisker in disdain. “I wish your Starfleet would take extra precautions and start sending someone else out besides your ship and crew. You were better off running with Mal and his crew…I had hoped you’d stay with them instead of re-enlisting for your cadet cruise.”

 

Kansas gently waved a paw through the air. “Raz, we’ve been over this before. I joined the Starfleet. For now, I need to go where I’m needed. And the Agincourt, myself, my commanding officer, my crew mates…we’re needed on the front lines. That’s all there is to it.”

 

A couple seconds of silence passed between the Caitians, and JoNs slowly slid the data device into an inside jacket pocket. Then the shorter felinoid suddenly hopped down off the counter and moved forward to grab Raztafa in a big hug, much as she had done when she was a young kitten.

 

The elderly Cait returned the hug, and whispered a prayer of protection. Once the prayer was finished, the two of them disengaged from the embrace, but Raz held Kansas at arm’s length, his big paws resting on her upper arms.

 

“You must watch yourself Kitten. I know you are an officer, and have a duty to perform. But this evil…this Soltan…the darkness is here, all around us. These demons will not stop until they leach all that is bright and happy. Please stay safe.”

 

JoNs nodded once, unable to trust her voice and rapidly blinked away some tears that had welled in her bright green eyes. She cleared her throat forcibly, and then spoke, her normally pleasant purred voice coming out rough and husky.

 

“I will Raz, and thank you. I gotta go now…”

 

She vaulted over the counter and was out the entry way door in seconds, blending into the waning daylight like a ghost. Raztafa Honor-Scar continued watching the interior of the now empty store for a moment, and then began to take an inventory on the sales completed throughout the business day.

 

His paws were doing busy work, checking store stock and checking figures on his wireless data slate. But his mind was very much active…and the darkness scared the older Cait.

 

It would not be banished easily.