Shadowing

[LeftEar JoNs 0]

The following log takes place during the 08.19.11 Aegis Sim. I’m on ur station, herdin’ cats…reporters, I meant reporters…

 

tr'Jeth Dabi -> ::looks to the doors of the CT, notes who is coming, continues to work, sends message to main security "Keep reporters from Amb Drankum, if they capture his visit:::

 

 

Revon -> ::Notices an order and puts down his ancient text:: Hmm... Drankum? I'll be damned... ::Queries sensors and finds the ambassador, sending Elder to meet with him and assigning others to filter civilians from visual contact with Drankum::

 

****

‘C’mon ‘Manda, this is a bust.”

 

“Put a sock in it Carl; we’ll wait and see. This is a good vantage point for the Promenade, and I’m not passing the location up.”

 

“…the restaurant isn’t even open yet! Does the term ‘obvious’ mean anything to you?” Carl indicated the outside eating area of the establishment with a wave. They had claimed one of the wrought iron table and chairs scattered across the patio, complete with umbrella, putting aside the fact that there was no real sunlight to filter.

 

He slouched back into his seat with a sigh, crossing his legs with his compact holo-camera cradled in his lap. The two Humans, a camera man and reporter respectively from a Federation affiliate station, sounded like a married couple. Which, in fact they were.

 

The female sighed. “Carl, I know this isn’t the best assignment we ever pulled, trying to grab a holo-vid and interview with some decrepit Ferengi, but you know he’s the former commander of the station. If he’s here, something must be up.”

 

“And maybe you both should take the day off, do some shopping in our fine Aegis stores.” A voice filtered out of the shadows. Both of the young Humans whirled up and out of their seats towards the sound.

 

A Caitian panther emerged from the shadows cast within the access corridor. Compact and athletic, she moved on all four paws out onto the patio, her tail lashing slightly in annoyance. She wore the uniform of Starfleet SEC.

 

The news reps exchanged a glance as the officer stood upright on hind paws and spoke to them in the purred consonants of her people.

 

She pointed a paw digit at them, the claw sticking out. “I’ve been following you two for an hour, since you made dock at the berths.” The Caitian planted both paws on her hips. “And you were pretty easy to shadow. You both really need to work on your Ninja skills, or somethinnnng.” Her purred growl drew out the last syllable.

 

The female regarded the felinoid with a slightly haughty expression, attempting to mask her surprise moments before. “And you are?” Her eyes took in the rank pips attached to the gold collar of the under tunic.

 

“Commander JoNs, Station Security.”

 

The male didn’t say anything; his hand slipping inside the jacket that he wore.

 

Left Ear caught the movement and minutely tensed, quickly reverting to a fighting stance. She couldn’t help the honest reaction; the lingering fear of a point blank shotgun blast courtesy of a Boganary pirate during her time on Excalibur had not quite faded. The physical injury had long been healed, but the psychological was another matter.

 

At the Cait’s reaction, the two reports looked at her askance; the man withdrew a simple ID badge from a jacket pocket and flashed it at her. “We’re legally attached to OutSector News Station 9. We have a right to be here.”

 

With effort, JoNs relaxed her stance. When she spoke, her tone was formal and polite.

 

‘I know exactly what you’re trying to do, Ms. Amanda Lee, is it?...you know the Ambassador is here, and you’d like to accost him for an interview.” Her sharp green eyed gaze latched onto the camera man as her ears laid flat, “And you, Carl Harkin, correct?...you’d like to grab some primo holo-images of the man, wouldn’t you?”

 

“Ms. JoNs…”

 

“You may call me Commander JoNs, Ms. Lee. And don’t you dare call me ‘hey you’.”

 

Carl attempted to jump into the conversation with a “Now wait a minute”, but Left Ear cut him off with a paw swipe gesture.

 

“Mr. Harkin, Ms. Lee. You have ten minutes. Move on. If you employ your equipment and trade, I’ll remand you to the Central-SEC offices for loitering. Do you understand me?”

 

With a final curt nod at the two humans, the felinoid backed into the shadows to watch and wait and see if her instructions were carried out.