"It Came from Inside the Crate"

[OdileCondacin 0]

Lieutenant Commander JoNs entered the outer sciences offices, personal padd in paw, and headed over to the Chief of Sciences office. "Yo! Xenexian Warrior Woman, the Caitian Cometh!" She poked a furred head into the office and offered a fanged smile. "You all set for some sensor hunting Lieutenant?"

 

Odile looked up, startled at the intrusion into her (not-so) shadowy little realm. "Kitty! Er -- Commander!" Charmingly, she smiled. "Yes yes! Of course! Just filing my flight plan! And preparing a list of snacks to bring."

 

JoNs waited until Condacin motioned to one of the guest chairs and then with a slight purr settled in across from her fellow officer. "Flight plan? Just make sure it's not the Bonaventure - I swear that shuttle is a deathtrap."

 

"Mhm... won't be Bonaventure. No need for worries. So would you like me to add on a few Caitian snacks? Roast Rodent Bites? Catnip sundae?"

 

"....you know I do eat "normal" foods - sandwiches, soups, and the like."

 

A Xenexian jaw dropped. "It's turned omnivore!" JoNs leered. "You know, you are just as pounceable as a Klingon wildebeast...."

 

Odile's eyes widened. Something about those little kat-kwips always made her undeniably nervous. "I'll remind you, Kitty, that the knife is now unpeacetied." She flipped shut a tricorder, slinging it over her shoulder as she stood. "Now, before we both revert back to feral instinct, perhaps we'd best be going. I at least don't want my officers to see the fury of the Chief unleashed on a hapless feline..."

 

Kansas offered a good natured purr stood, holding her Padd up. "All of the current security research is on this. Thank you for going out on this little impromptu sciences-security research field trip. I will feel better knowing that we didn't miss anything with regard to our Soltan research."

 

"Oh, we won't miss a thing!" Condacin relaxed a little, smiling as she led the way to the door. "So partners in crime, you and I. Who'd have thunk it?"

 

"Hmmmmm....." JoNs walked with the science officer, but was too busy perusing her padd's data screen, "....what? Crime? Since when?"

 

"Nothing at all." Gold-toned eyes flashed playfully. "Nothing whatsoever. Come on, kitty..." Odile held the lift, part of her brainpower drifted towards devoting itself to the very interesting debacle of whether or not Starfleet prisons offered jumpsuits with space for tails.

 

Kansas raised a whisker but did not comment further, entering the lift along with Odile. She must be in a playful mood today or something...

 

"Deck Fifteen," she instructed. "So, thoughts on our little expedition this afternoon?" Besides "we're doomed". The lieutenant commander gave the lieutenant a glance. "Just do a once over of the hull, especially the area that was compromised with that vortex. Other then that, just check few hundred kilometer area both around the ship and the Gareem colony planet, comparing past readings with new ones...I just dont want to be surprised by those gods forsaken Soltans again."

 

"Right," Condacin agreed. "And take any necessary samples of the area." She nodded to herself, appearing quite lost in thought. "Yes. We should prepare for the possibility that we need samples! Lots of samples!"

 

”.....you're awfully perky today..."

 

"You'd rather I be crabby? I'm a Cancer, but that doesn't mean I always have to carry a sour disposition, now does it?"

 

Kansas looked surprised. "You're the sign of the crab in the Old Earth zodiac? Interesting. I found out that I am as well, including, which is pretty fitting - a tiger in the ancient Chinese calendar."

 

"Quite fitting indeed! At least you aren't a rat -- that could have thrown me for a loop. But you're very rarely crabby -- it's not often you actually see the kitty-tail whipping..." For a moment, the Xenexian wondered how things would have turned out had she been a Caitian, and the imagined tail lashing made her tired just contemplating the notion. Involuntarily, she shuddered.

 

"You feeling alright?"

 

"Quite. Here we are." She stepped out of the lift, into the shuttle bay, and began peering at the assembled craft. "No, no," she muttered, looking at each shuttle in turn. "Nope..." The Xenexian passed by the shuttles, reaching the back of the landing bay. JoNs followed along, her gaze falling over the various shuttlecraft.

 

"Aha. There's our little ship." She approached the vessel she'd pointed out to the Caitian, headed directly for the hatch. "The good ole Whitman."

 

Kansas came to a dead stop. ".....are you insane? Wait, don't answer that. Are you serious?" The felinoid stared at the intended vehicle.

 

"I filed the flightplan," she stated, sidestepping the question. "It's roomier. For all those samples."

 

The Caitian woman skidded up beside the Xenexian woman. "Hellllooooooo...." huffy purr, "...this is the Captain's Yacht."

 

"Colonel's, more technically! Besides, she's not possessive. Or even vindictive! She's well-meaning, and would gladly sacrifice her own pleasure craft for the good of ship and quadrant, right? For the samples," she repeated. "Besides, no one will give the flightplan a glance. We won't be out long. And what she doesn't know can't hurt her. Or us." Odile nodded repeatedly, speaking very rapidly.

 

"Odile! We can't just up and use the yacht for a research run...this is the Colonel's command shuttle. There's no way we can take this yacht out. This sleek...fast...beautiful craft.....oh gods! Stop me."

 

Odile smiled. "You can stay home, and I'll keep the omnivorous sandwiches for myself. And you can't make use of the leather chairs... with the heating elements built in... or the chrome-edged consoles... or the well-maintained engines and sensors..."

 

JoNs closed her eyes. "Give me a second - my security mind and my civilian mind are having words over the various regulations we are violating..." The feline did not speak for approximately two minutes. Only the occasional whisker twitch or tail swish indicated that she had not fallen asleep standing up. She finally re-fixed her gaze on the Xenexian.

 

"Let's do research - in style." A smile lit her golden furred features.

 

"Right! Good good." She made her entry into the craft, a mischievous smile lighting her face as she went. "A little disappointing first impression -- I expected an attractive half-nude male servant to be on staff to greet us. And where are the marbled fountains?"

 

The Caitian's nose twitched. "Ooooooo - leather, and it still has that new yacht smell!"

 

"Has this ever even been used?" Condacin looked around, clearly awestruck.

 

"Once, possibly? I don't think Harper has set foot in here. And it certainly hasn't been employed as a Troop Hopper."

 

"This might become my survey vehicle of choice." She approached the navigation controls, almost reverently. "You don't think they'll dust for fingerprints, do you?"

 

Kansas put a claw in the air. "You are appealing to my security sensibilities. Stop."

 

"Very well. Do you think they have a wine selection on board, then?" Odile smiled.

 

The claw stayed in the air. "Nooooooooo...no....no. Alchohol is bad kids."

 

"Right. Right right. Scratch that thought..." she paused, "... metaphorically."

 

The feline officer moved to the piloting console and quickly connected her data padd. "Ready to go?"

 

"Yep. Strapped in and ready." Moments later, after the yacht had departed the Agincourt, JoNs turned to Condacin. "I'd like to head to the section of the hull that was

recently compromised...." she checked a reading and entered a few new commands into the console.

 

"You go ahead. I'm going to see what Harpie has stored in here." Another shudder. "If I want to know..." Meandering lazily to the back, she started rooting through a few packaging crates. "Ooh look! Who'd have thought she was a fan of SRM!" she called out excitedly. "It's the limited Issaha N'Dak edition!" Then she frowned. "Oh, damn, it's not addressed to her... just to one of the engineers that transferred off awhile back. They must have just left it in here." She moved the top crate aside, pawing through the second. "Foodstuffs -- ration packs. Yummy yummy," was the sarcastic comment. "But... that's odd... this looks like it was opened... or chewed thr-- ACK!"

 

The lieutenant commander flipped an ear back. "Ack?"

 

"Something moved! It... scurried!" Odile's voice was a few tones higher than usual.

 

The tone more then anything caused JoNs to turn halfway around in her seat from the pilot console, looking concerned. "Odile?"

 

"There was something in that one. With the food. It got out." She was shaking from the start, pressed up against the interior of the plush little yacht. Kansas rose from the chair, her sharp green eyes searching the area.

 

"It had more than four legs. And shiny. But I didn't get a good look at it. I was more interested in the ration pack flavors."

 

"Are you sure...." JoNs suddenly froze, "Odile.....don't move..." The insect-thing had appeared above the two women, about halfway between them. It perched on the casing of a fire extinguisher - JoNs had no idea what it was. It was a bright silver color, winged, and had a nasty looking stinger. The Caitian slowly reached a paw behind her, clicking on the console auto pilot. The small blip was enough to draw the bug's attention, and it fixed malevolent black eyes on her.

 

"Oh dear..."

 

"Eeks..." Odile squeaked out, traces of 'Xenexian Warrior Woman' disappearing very quickly. "I hate bugs..." Taking out her dagger -- its first combat in many summers -- she took a swipe, not quite catching the intended wing with her attack.

 

JoNs dove and rolled, vaulting partially off the pilots chair; she left a ragged rip in her wake with a hind claw. She came up next to Odile as the other woman slashed. "Keep it busy!!" The Caitian quickly entered coding into the weapons locker bolted to a bulkhead near the rear of the craft.

 

Odile took another valiant stab at the winged monster, gnashing her teeth at it as if it might be intimidated. "Shiny, rotting carapaces!" she hissed, catching the tip of one leg. "Mutated piece of slime! I hate bugs!" The surface wound served to make it angry, its overgrown antennae lashing towards the feline, then back to Odile.

 

Kansas quickly checked the charge of a hand phaser, setting it to stun. "More importantly, what in the name of all that is good is it! Thoughts! Did we pick it up from anywhere?" The feline moved quickly, facing off with the bug next to Odile. "Oh gods...."

 

"Maybe it was in a crate from the market, then the crewmen put rations in without seeing the bug..." She was interrupted by the behemoth going on a dive-bomb course, landing on Odile's face with six sticky legs clinging to her skin. She screamed, not wanting to stab herself in the face, and yelped. "Get it off! Get it off!"

 

"You mean you want me to touch it?!" Even as she spoke the revulsion laced statement, the feline officer went into action, grabbing at the silver carapace.

 

"Grozit!" Odile bellowed as the bug made a giant leap from Xenexian to cat, landing between her ears. The Xenexian tossed her knife at it, missing miserably as it sailed over her head, and into the chair behind JoN's.

 

The security chief dropped the phaser and reeled backwards, claws scrabbling. "Mrrrrroooooooowwwwllllll!"

 

"Not very fun, is it?" Odile elbowed it, careful not to restablish contact.

 

The winged thing, highly angry at this point, buzzed off of the Cait's head, who continued reeling backward and slammed into another leather covered seat, scratching at the upholstery as she tried to get her footing and make sure the bug was off her. "Veken!"

 

Amidst the chaos, the yacht begin to veer off course, bumping its bow into the side of Court, causing an ear-piercing screech which sent hackles up Odile's spine. This did not improve her temper, and with a resounding thwack, she finally got a good aim at the insect, sending it crashing into a bulkhead. The metallic-toned bug crumpled to the ground, and Odile rubbed at her fist, chiding herself for hitting it quite so hard.

 

"It's dead," she announced. "I saved the day, and we're safe."

 

JoNs quickly retrieved the hand phaser, taking aim at the dead bug. "...safe? Define...AHHH!"

 

The not quite dead bug suddenly zoomed straight at them again; JoNs twirled and fired a stun beam as it blew past them. The stun beam slammed the metallic-type insect into a side bulkhead, leaving some green colored insect goop smeared across the surface before the insect came to rest on the carpeted decking; further goop, which possibly was some type of defense repellent, leaked into the carpeting and stained it.

 

Odile was somewhat taken out of her shock when it again went limp, looking around the yacht with an ill, stricken look. "Merciful gods help us..."

 

A feather landed on Kansas's nose and she sneezed; bits and pieces of the torn seat upholstery were floating all throughout the cabin. "...perhaps said Colonels will not notice said condition of said command yacht. With that said, I say we nix said research trip..." JoNs as well looked around at the condition of the Whitman. "....can you requistion a repair team, quickly?" The feline stared at one of the chairs complete with her claw marks ."Oh dear..."

 

"Yes! I will! We need to get back now!" She paused. "Actually... a repair team will show up on her reports... maybe we should just hope she doesn't realize what happened. We can say we found the bug in the shuttlebay. Omit mention of the yacht -- hope she doesn't see the flightplan -- and if she asks, we'll say that the bug has claws."

 

".....the insect has claws? No mention of the yacht? We can't do that! Hell, I can't do that! Look, Odile - this falls into that whole responsibility thing..." Kansas looked closer at a smear of the goop, but did not touch it. "Oh, that is just nasty..."

 

Reluctantly, Odile nodded."Then I suppose one of us will talk to Harper. I'll do it. Downplay the damage, and make it sound like a small, minor issue. Fair?"

 

"I'll be hiding on the other side of the ship. No, seriously - if you handle that area of this issue, I will grab a Damage Control Team to assess the yacht damage and attempt any repairs. Aye, fair."

 

"It's a deal."

Edited June 3, 2007 by OdileCondacin