Movin' On

[GSgt Mike Hefner 0]

The informal debriefing that had taken place among some of the key away teams had gone rather well. All of their current problems had not been solved of course, and there was still the matter of several large Rommie ships that were still MIA, but the Agincourt crew at least now had more of a cohesive plan -- warp out and find a rather elusive ship trader by the name of 'Tim' who seemed to be a solid lead in the missing ships case.

 

Lt. Colonel Kansas 'Will' JoNs had retired to her NNC office just after the meeting, and thank the gods that she didn't have to walk very far considering the impromptu gathering had taken place smack dab in Marine central. The simple fact was that Will JoNs was not feeling very willful at this current moment. 'Hung out to dry' was a pretty apt description of her mental state actually.

 

What the felinoid Cait needed was a dose of aspirin, a good meal, about twelve hours sleep, and a good solid workout to smooth out the kinks from that dumbass bar brawl. What JoNs had was several bruises, a bone deep soreness that coursed throughout her entire body, and several data PADDS strewn across her desk that held away team reports, general duty reports, and required her immediate attention for follow up. So, what that all meant was that she would be diverted with some off duty paper work and mission follow ups for the next few hours or so.

 

The golden furred felinoid officer still wore her black duty trousers and undershirt, but had dumped the Marine gray command jacket in favor of a white hooded sweat jacket with the mission symbol of the Agincourt stitched on the left chest area. A large stainless steel mug of tea sat off to one side of the desktop, the feline's poison of choice for data slate diving. The entry way to the XO's office was left open, per usual, and the subdued sounds of Marine command central drifted in through the open doorway every once in a while.

 

Poking his head through the door to LtCol Cait's office in the NNC, Gunny Slick paused. Smell of fresh-brewed tea, industrial shower, battered and probably more than a few bruises under the fur, he wondered if he'd come at a bad time. But the door was an open invite, so he gave two light knocks on the door frame in a questioning way. "If you have time, ma'am, something that's nagging at me about the mission?" he asked when she looked up.

One ear flipped back at that statement in mild surprise. Slick Hefner really didn't *do* nagging; when something was troubling the gunnery sergeant however, it was best to lend him an ear.

"Aye Slick - come on in and park it." She waved a paw in the direction of one of the two guest chairs facing towards the desk while placing her computer monitor screen on standby with a quick swipe of her other paw across the viewer surface.

"Well, ma'am," he began, moving through the door towards the chairs, "it's this whole business we've been working on since we entered Romulan space. All due respect, it just doesn't make sense. Sending a warship like 'Court to hunt down chop-shop hoods, chasin' after buyers, usin' our recon units and puttin' Marines on the line to take care of the Empire's internal organized crime...?" His accent thickened with every word 'til he ended with a tongue-click and twist of his head. "We're Starfleet, ma'am. I'm not questioning orders, mind you, but it seems to me we're off the mark.

 

Okay; that would be Human regional accent on deployment. Humans -- like Caitians when they got agitated and their words and sentences started rolling with even more of the purred inflections and hissing -- tended to go into what regional tonal roots they had been brought up with when slightly agitated. JoNs made a mental note on Hefner's obviously heightened yet controlled state of concern and moved forward with the conversation.Hefner approaching her with a concern over the current mission wasnt at all surprising; there had been various curious grumblings among the crew, and while Colonel Harper was very much approachable on matters such as this, the simple fact was that most crew would follow the CoC and go for the XO first.

 

Will leaned back in her office chair and offered a simple answer to the senior NCO. "Slick, the best way I can answer that is this: the 'Court remains the only warship on record to tangle with the Soltan first hand, which makes us the experts and most likely to be sent into territories to investigate possible Soltan activity."

 

She flipped her ears back and forth like radar periscopes. "And as for playing hide and seek with the missing Rihan vessels....if we were asked to investigate, it must be a more sensitive subject then the public is aware of."

 

"Yes, ma'am," he replied as he dropped into a chair and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, "that's one thing I'm thinkin' of. It's naggin' at my gut. If we're here, undercover, snooping around for Soltan and scouting out the neighborhood, maybe we should be lookin' at the sellers instead of the buyers." He eyed her a minute, as though gauging her reaction before he went on. "If there is a Soltan presence in Romulan space, there might be a Romulan-Soltan connection - like we saw on Corianis and Avaros. And if there is, mightn't we look at who that connection is?

 

"And what if the connection that just might be there is sending us on a wild goose chase, ma'am? It's just.... " he paused, dropping his gaze to the floor as though reining in his thoughts, not wanting to go too far in criticism, just in case. After some hesitant shifting and a headshake he continued in a more conciliatory tone. "It just seems to me that we're lookin' in the wrong direction. All's I have is a gut feeling - somethin' I can't explain - somethin' that tells me that where we are, here and now, is just... wrong."

 

In this case, Kansas didn't mind the tentative criticism; the NCO was honestly seeking out some council from a senior commissioned and it wouldn't due to get in the mans face for 'asking too many questions'. The Cait placed the mug back down on the desktop and cocked her head to once side in a very animal like gesture when her light green eyes snapped back to Hef.

 

"I agree, because the Rihans don't ask for assistance. Very insular, very proud, very secretive. Yet - here we are helping with a search for their property, with the possibility of a Soltan presence being in Rihan space. Doesn't really sit too well in the gut, I agree with you there Slick. All we can do is go about the business that we've been contracted out for and hope nothing bites us in the rear guard."

 

Mike's eyes remained locked on hers for a long minute before dropping with his acquiescing nod. "Yes, ma'am," he said as he stood to leave. "One more question, if you don't mind?"

 

"Did we win?" A hint of a grin played across his face.

 

A couple of years back, Will JoNs might have gotten really embarrassed at the question, or gotten really mad. As it stood now, the young yet maturing XO let loose with a purred jag of soft laughter and flashed a brilliant fanged smile towards Slick.

 

"Mister Slick, no comment."