Alias: Smith & Jones

[Kansas_Jones 0]

The following plot log takes place just after the events in "In Ur Hanga Bay..."

 

Somewhere in the Outer Rim

Unknown Sector

03:15 Hours (03:15 AM)

 

The ‘meeting’ had ended a short while ago with the proposed rescue and extraction of the observational officers on the planet Neural put into play. Alias, Jones and Smith lingered in the briefing room, and Ensign Stone had wisely not returned to the USS Comanche Creek with Calestorm.

 

Alias, more commonly referred to as Lieutenant Commander Tyrell Akers, spoke first. “That went well.” His tone held some amusement.

 

Stone snorted from his vantage point at the other end of the table. “With respect Sir, next time you can handle the escort duties.”

 

‘Jones’, more commonly referred to as Commander K. Vacer JoNs, scoffed. “I still say we should have tapped a raw commanding officer from Regular Fleet instead of using a Border Patrol officer. And she’s not exactly subtle.”

 

Tyrell chuckled at that, the pleasant sound at odds with the overall serious tone of the room. “And this is coming from the woman who blew an abandoned defensive platform to create a diversion.”

 

JoNs flipped an amused ear back and smiled, showing her fangs. “Whoops.”

 

Captain Smithson broke into the conversation and spoke directly to the leonine Caitian, his tone growing annoyed at the banter and driving the discussion back to the matters at hand. “You worry too much Commander - these Border Patrol officers are perfect for this sort of clean up mission.”

 

JoNs gave Smithson a cool look. “That’s your opinion. It would have been just as easy to draft another ships commander, another crew, without activating your sleeper agent. It’s a waste of resources.”

 

He in turn stared at her. “She gave you the once over.” The words were pointed.

 

The felinoid hedged, attempting to deflect the innuendo. “Felines all look alike to Humans. I’m sure it meant nothing.”

 

The older officer disagreed. “Ten to one she picked up on the resemblance.”

 

“Worried your youngster won’t come back?” Akers raised an eyebrow as he jumped into the conversation; unlike Smith, the younger mans tone wasn’t cutting.

 

The Cait was very careful to keep her raw emotions in check, though her gut did a little flip. The youngling in question was one Ensign Shaow Honor-Scar, currently serving on the activation ship. “I know that the parameters for this op had already been in play, and it was unfortunate that my cousin happened to be assigned to our target ship.”

 

Or, it could have been the fact that her claws had splayed out as she spoke that convinced the two men to divert the subject…