Baby NOT on Board!

[LeftEar JoNs 0]

Note: this log takes place thirty minutes prior to the start of the 06.29.08 sim

 

06.28.08

USS Excalibur NCC-2004C

“Baby NOT On Board”

 

Commander Left Ear JoNs sat in the command chair on the main bridge of the Excalibur, having nothing much to do other then signing off on reports. After the Boganary run and gun attack on the ship after they had warped into the sector, and then the away team recon mission trudging through the Aiesse Three space station tracking down supplies and any information on the Crownstone or the Boganary people, the change in pace was a welcome diversion. The feline exec was tired, but as always her conditioning hid it well.

 

The Caitian executive officer was pulling third shift bridge duty, and the ship remained in a docking berth at the space station. Or rather, the crew remained docked at the galactic dive that passed itself off as a space station. It wasn’t exactly the safest port of call here in the quadrant, but it would serve their purposes while the recon teams hunted around for much needed supplies and the correct Boganary clan to contact about the Crownstone of the Ascendent. All of the teams that had ventured onto the station had done very well in procuring the information needed with regard to the Crownstone and which Boggie clan might be in possession of the trinket. In fact, the individual reports that JoNs was currently perusing where chock full of information -- on the quadrant in general as well as the elusive Boggies and their network of clans -- that could be exploited. Now, they just needed to find this Thicket base of ops that this Auntie Wort operated from, and in the process try and avoid tangling with any of the clan guard ships again.

 

Granted, there wasn’t much to do while sitting in space dock, and the bridge was functioning under a skeleton crew, even more so during the third shift. As she gazed at the officer manning the operations console, the feline got an idea. Lieutenant Warfield had applied for a transfer to the first shift, so perhaps it was time to see how he would handle being left in charge of the bridge. It was a quiet third shift with the ship parked in dock, and there was no better opportunity for a junior officer to take command for a little on the job training, even if the ship was going no where.

 

The feline stood and gazed at the ensign, who had visually locked onto her when she had moved with anticipatory eyes. “Orders sir?” Yeah, he was just as bored stiff as she was.

 

“Ensign Warfield, I’ll be making a quick visit to the sickbay to check on a patient. You have the bridge.” She smiled and flipped an ear back.

 

Warfield stared at her for a few seconds, and then comprehension finally dawned on his fair skinned features, the understanding look intermixed with equal parts trepidation and the desire to do a bang up job of commanding. “Aye sir.”

 

“Comm me if you need me for anything and I’ll be back up here as soon as possible, hear me?”

 

“Aye sir.”

 

With a switch of her tail and a curt nod to the young officer, the Caitian senior officer left the bridge.

 

= = = = = = = =

 

A short while later, the brown furred feline was entering the medical bay, and the patient she was interesting in seeing was her god child, baby Julie Zier. The little infant had come down with a nasty ear infection, which had brooked a high fever. A high fever in any infant of any species was a worry point. So, to head off any possible problem situations, the baby had been moved to the sickbay to be monitored for a couple of days. As soon as she stepped through the entrance way, Lieutenant Call, a junior grade human medical tech, greeted the senior officer from her post at the receiving desk. “Evening Commander. What can I do for you?” The slim human put aside the medical tricorder she had been reading from.

 

 

“I’m actually here to check in on your smallest patient.”

 

“Oh okay. You just missed Alex; he headed down to the main mess to grab a bite to eat.”

 

“He’s watching over the baby tonight?”

 

“Aye sir. He and Maria are taking turns staying with the baby.”

 

“Good. Mind if I head back to the temporary nursery area?” She indicated the back section of the medical offices with a paw.

 

“Go right ahead sir. I’ll sign you in and note the time of your arrival for the shift records.”

 

The Caitian quickly and quietly walked through the outer medical bay and entered the far care ward. Julie was laying on one of the biobeds set toward the front just as you entered the area. The baby was awake and cooing slightly and so very gently so as not to startle the youngster, the feline quietly approached the bio bed. The last time JoNs had laid eyes on the baby, she had been screaming her lungs out, so the feline could only assume that Doctor Wydown and the rest of the medical staff had synthesized the correct concoction of medication to ease the acute systems of the baby’s painful ear infection.

 

Left Ear slowly passed a paw through the blue medical bio force field surrounding the baby, and gently patted the little one on the belly of her bright yellow cotton jumpsuit. Julie cooed and smiled and fussed, batting a tiny hand at the large brown paw. The usually serious Caitian smiled and in a moment of tenderness started blathering like an idiot in the language commonly known as baby talk.

 

= = = = = = = =

 

Five intruders materialized in the secondary quarter section of the medical area, in an auxiliary corridor set just off the main medical bay. A heavy whiff of ozone permeated the area, an indication that these strangers employed older or low grade civilian transporter technology. And yet, this low grade non military technology was enabling them to bypass the Excal’s general security defenses and fool the ships on board alert sensors. It was a common misconception that lower grade civilian technology was less desirable then the so called higher grade military technology. In reality, if you knew how to manipulate and tweak the civilian brand technology, the resulting sensor bypasses that could be performed were rather formidable.

 

The strangers ranged in height from five foot five inches to the tallest one who stood at about five foot eight inches. A couple of them had warts blemishing their otherwise smooth skin, and all of them had a greenish colored skin, ranging in hue from a greenish yellow to a dark green color. Their ears were long and pointed, and a bulbous nose was set between wide eyes and above a wide mouth full of sharp and yellowed teeth. The weapons they brandished were a mish mash of technologies and time periods; projectile guns, axes, a sword, and energy disruptors were strapped securely onto ammo belts worn around the waist or across the chest. Their clothing was also mis-matched as well, with leathers and cloth and bits and pieces of various materials all sewn together. Scrap metals were used as chest protectors, gauntlets, or leg guards, and offered protection as crude armor. Long black and greasy hair completed the pirate raider picture.

 

A clan of the Boganary had boarded the Excalibur in order to do what they did best – collecting.

 

The five Boganary burst through the sickbay entrance doors and tossed a crude sonic grenade as they did so. The grenade detonated, and the digital shockwave took out the security camera sensors that recorded for the medical bay. Lieutenant Call was startled and leapt up from her chair at the receiving desk. An axe haft cracked across the nurses’ face, and the woman was rendered unconscious before she hit the deck plates. The Boganary raiders then began helping themselves to medical supplies and medications, moving quickly and quietly like a well organized wolf pack.

 

“Lieutenant Call, what was that noise? Is everything going alright out…? “ Left Ear stopped in mid sentence when she spotted who and what was going on, instinctively dropping into a fighting crouch. Her paw flew toward her communicator badge in an effort to call for some help.

 

One of the yellowish green Boganary whirled around at the interruption, firing a ramshackle shotgun made of piping and shuttlecraft wire casings as he did so. Nails and bits of metal exploded from the crude projectile gun and slammed full on into the feline executive officer; she was spun halfway around from the force of the blast and then dropped flat on her stomach. The numbness of the impact faded away to be replaced by pain exploding across her right upper chest, neck and shoulder. JoNs tried to crawl away from the danger, but went nowhere fast as she slipped closer and closer to unconsciousness in order to escape the paralyzing pain.

 

One of the taller pirate invaders rushed forward to smack a gnarled hand against the snub nosed double barrel of the shotgun-like weapon, knocking the gun downward and stopping the first Boganary from firing off another shot at the cat. The universal translator tech sensors wired throughout the ship hadn’t quite deciphered all of the Boganary language yet, or at least the sub-dialect that this band of cutthroats were using. Only every second or third word spoken by the raiding party was recognizable, but it was clear that the taller Boganary who had stepped in and stopped the attack on the cat was berating the shorter one in the harsh sounding language. Apparently, weapons discharge had not been part of the plan because it wasted valuable ammunition. The trigger happy Boganary was roughly sent on his way by his cohorts with orders to investigate the remainder of the medical offices and care wards.

 

A third member of the motley band merely rolled JoNs over with a clawed foot and stared down at the injured and semi conscious Caitian officer with a calculating look in his eyes. Ignoring the blood pouring from her wounds, he grabbed at her communicator badge and rank pin, mistaking the bright looking alloys for silver or gold or an equally valuable metal. The final two members of the raiding party, both of a darker green coloring then the other three, had calmly continued looting the medical facility, working through the commotion as if they saw beings shot or knocked out every other day. Then again, maybe they did.

 

The younger looter emerged from the back areas after a few tense minutes, cradling the little baby. Julie, while not crying out right, was fussy because on an instinctual level she knew that she was not among family or those on the ship that cared about her. The third Boganary, the white haired one who had stolen the shiny trinkets from the cat, took the baby from his younger co-hort. “You idiot … static … you can’t … static … hold … young … static … correctly.” Then, a fierce but brief argument followed, and the dirtball raiders decided that the small one was indeed a prize to be taken back to the Auntie because the baby youngling had been in the bed surrounded by the blue air weave protection.

 

Such a high value prize would make a fine addition to the clan stories, and would surely trump the lame conquest story of the Tika clan that had been making the rounds among the clan fleets; those Tika’s wouldn’t know a good prize or how to pull off a good raid if their lives depended on it.

 

The Boganary raiders beamed off of the Excalibur as quietly as they had come on board, leaving several lives forever changed in their prize looting wake.