Station Log, Stardate: 49710.31.
Repairs and upgrades are coming along nicely. Barring any unforseen problems, the station should be fully operational on schedule. Jacobs has almost finished the mating of the Federation computers to the Kzinti ones. She has discovered, to her surprise, that I have a sense of humor so, occasionally as she is working in the Control Center she will catch a whiff of my ‘duty’, crinkle up her nose and say to me, “Bad Kitty! If I catch you marking anything else I will get the Water Bottle!” Then she will giggle and go about her work. She had to explain to me that a Water Bottle was a device humans used to ‘remind’ their feline companions that certain things were NOT allowed in certain places. It was known that a corporal reprimand, such as striking the creature with an object was extremely demeaning to it. They also thought that Earth felines did not like to get their fur wet so a quick squirt of water would be a ‘humane’ way of punishment. I did not tell Jacobs that I LIKE to get wet on occasion. Her surprise that I have a sense of humor surprises me. Just because felinoids do not understand their Knock Knock Jokes, humans think we have no sense of humor! If the truth was known, I know of no other life form that thinks Knock Knock Jokes are funny.
There is an interesting and somewhat disturbing note to my marking of the station. As I told Security-Chief, Caitians do not mark things however I speculate that a few million years of evolution are more of an influence than a few thousand years of civilization. It was strange but, during Security-Chief’s rant, I could, to paraphrase one of the lines a character, Kirk Rodenberrykicker or something like that said to his Deadeye Master in one of the many Star Trek-Wars Generation X something something, Earth Vids I enjoy watching, “I could ALMOST smell their fear!” As I went about doing my duty, I found myself experiencing a unfamiliar, wild, almost primal feeling. It was as if the station disappeared and I was transported back to the primordial jungle my prehistoric ancestors prowled. I could almost feel the weight of hundreds of pairs of fearful eyes watching as THE CAITIAN begins the patrol of HIS territory! What was even stranger was that I enjoyed, even reveled in the feeling! I would like to explore this newly discovered aspect of my psyche further if possible.
In her spare time Jacobs has converted one of the station’s larger rooms and two of the smaller ones into a Holodeck and two Holosuites. I felt that because of our remoteness, these rooms would be vital to the well being of the crew as well as a tool that could be used to the benefit of the station. To begin exploring my ‘Wild Side" I am going to introduce my Kzinti Security-Chief to them this evening. As I stop by the station’s Security Office, Security-Chief is giving last minute instructions to 4 of 5. I decided that 4 of 5's skills and talents could best be used assisting Security-Chief and making sure he follows ALL Federation rules regarding prisoners. In other words assuring that he does not EAT any! Seeing me, Security- Chief says, ”I will be ready shortly D’Sefet-Commander.” Finishing the instructions, he joins me. “I am sorry to keep you waiting D’Sefet-Commander.”, he says. “That ok Sssecurrrity-Chiefff, I ammm ppprobably bit earrrly. Arrre yooou rrready fffor dinnerrr?”, I question. “I am famished D’Sefet-Commander!”, he answers. Before we leave, I ask 4 of 5, “How arrre thingsss gggoing 4?” “Very well sir!”, he answers. “Gggood 4.”, I say, “Keeppp uppp gggood worrrk.”
The station has yet to attract any commercial eating establishments so the only public place to eat is a small Mess/Meeting Hall in the Bazar area. As we reach its door, Security-Chief begins to enter. I stop him by saying, “That not where we eating tonight.” “But . . . Where?”, he inquires, looking around for another place. I answer by taking a short walk over to the door to the Holodeck, “Herrre!” “THERE?!?”, he says joining me. “Yesss, rrrun Sssef’sss Ppplain.”, I order. “Program Complete, you may enter when ready.”, the computer says. Kzinti have a GREAT distrust of machines that talk and, Security-Chief is no exception. However as I take a step forward and, the doors open, what he sees tweaks his curiosity. I enter and he cautiously follows. We step through the door and onto Earth’s, Africa’s, Serengeti Plain. It is late after noon, just after the start of the dry season, a slight breeze blows from the south stirring up miniature tornadoes I think are called ‘Dust Devils’ in the tall, dry grass. We are standing on a hill overlooking a terrain feature called a ‘Watering Hole’. “How is all this possible D’Sefet-Commander?!? We ARE still on the station, are we not?”, Security-Chief questions, as he surveys the scene. “Yooou have nnneverrr ssseen Hhholodeck?”, I ask. “Holodeck? No, but I have heard stories of the Human’s Room of Mirages that they play in.”, he replies with disdain as he bends down to pluck a blade of grass, “But this is REAL!” “Therrre mmmorrre to it than jussst imagesss.”, I reply, adding, “And it cannn be usssed fffor morrre than ‘ppplay’.” “This is truly marvelous D’Sefet-Commander but, forgive me, I am becoming hungrier!”, Security-Chief says adding with urgency, “Where IS dinner.” “It on it’sss way.”, I answer motioning to an approaching herd of animals. “ORrr ifff yooou pppreferrr ‘fffassst fffood’.”, I indicate a group of Gazelles drinking at the Watering Hole. “Are you suggesting we make a kill?!?”, Security-Chief asks somewhat hesitantly. “I thought Kzinnnti liked tooo hunt.”, I reply. “We DO but, those are not real animals . . . ARE THEY?”, he says. Holo technology has improved over the years so I can truly answer, “Theirrr mmmeat asss rrreal and asss fffilling asss any yooou would get fffrom Rrreplicatorsss in Messs Hall.” He considers what I have said for a moment and then asks as he eyes me, “How are your hunting skills D’Sefet- Commander?” Caitians, like most more advanced creatures, gave up hunting for survival a long time ago but, we, like all creatures still retain an instinct for it. As kits, we instinctively played at games once designed to develop and sharpen those skills. So I answer, “It beennn long timmme sssince I chasssed sssqueek acrrrossss fffield but, ifff that ssskill isss, asss humansss sssay, ‘Like fffalling offf bicycle’ orrr isss it ‘Rrriding log’, oh well . . . neverrr lossst, thennn I think I ammm rrready! What creaturrre dooo yooou want tooo go afterrr?” “I think I would like to have one of the stout creatures with the shorter horns. It’s head would make a wonderful display for my office.”, he answers. I was hoping he would pick one of the smaller creatures but, “Capppe Bufffalo it isss thennn!”, I say.
The first order of business is a plan. Felines usually hunt in one of three styles. If there is a group, like the females in a lion pride, they will stalk in relays with each hunter following the chosen prey until she is tired and another one starting where she left off. In that way the group can tire out an animal so it can easily be caught. Unfortunately there are only two of us. The second method is to simply chase the animal and pounce on it as it stumbles. This method works well for cheetah but, I know I do not have the speed or stamina for such a hunt and, I doubt the Kzinti has it either. The third method is to hide near where the prey is and, wait for one to become careless. Much like an Earth house cat hunts a mouse. However this method is VERY time consuming and requires massive amounts of patience. Because of the Kzinti philosophy of ‘Scream and Leap’ I KNOW the Kzinti does NOT have the resolve for this method! Being intelligent creatures, we decide on a plan that suits our limited abilities. I will try and selectively panic a few of the Buffalo into running toward where Security-Chief will be laying in wait in the tall grass, instead of the entire herd charging, in mass, at me as is their nature when threatened. If luck is with us, he will be able to pounce on one of the passing animals and hold it until I can join him in bringing it down. I hope this plan suits both the Kzinti’s ‘Scream and Leap’ mentality and my physical limitations. After warning Security-Chief that I have lowered the Holodeck’s Protection Protocol to give the prey every chance to escape, in other words, horns will gore, just not deeply and, hooves will break any bone except the skull, and, that the mature Cape Buffalo males can weigh close to a ton, to which he hungrily replied, “GREAT!”, we begin. We spend almost an hour crawling through the tall, dry grass getting into position. We have to take care to keep up wind of the herd so our sent does not panic them prematurely. I have to tell you, for a creature that has evolved to walk on two legs, moving about on paws and knees is a little tough. Especially if the creature is a bit ‘over the hill’ as humans say. Eventually both Security-Chief and I reach our positions on either side of the herd. After taking a moment to make sure Security-Chief is ready, I rise up and do my best to roar like a lion. Although my ‘roar’ is a bit weak, fortunately my appearance does panic a few in the herd. As three of the younger animals break from the rest and head for Security-Chief’s position, I follow, doing my best to keep up with them and keep them on course. The lead animal passes Security-Chief’s position unmolested. Just as I am wondering if the Kzinti has frozen in the heat of the hunt, I hear a sound that has never been heard on the plains of the Serengeti. A roar that could not be equaled by a whole pride of lions roaring in unison. The Kzinti suddenly makes a leap at the second buffalo . . . and misses. For an instant he lays face down in the dust but, quickly gathers himself and rises. The expression on his face is a wild mixture of excitement for the hunt, anger and disgust at missing the prey and, intense concentration. Fortunately his sudden appearance slows the third animal’s pace just enough for Security-Chief to set himself for another leap, and this time he is successful. As he locks himself around the neck of the buffalo, and tries to position himself so he can use his fangs to kill it, I catch up. I make my own leap, landing on the animal’s back. My added weight slows the animal and enables Security-Chief to wrestle it to the ground and sink his teeth into a jugular. Death comes quickly but, the buffalo does not die meekly, kicking, bucking and, thrashing about as it lies on its side beneath us. As I try and hold on to the animal, I consider what I have learned about humans and the period in their history where they were hunters. As far as they can determine, no human ever hunted bare pawed, even the earliest hunters were armed with a heavy stone or tree branch. I wonder if humans would have survived to prowl the stars if they had to feed themselves like the early Caitian/Kzinti did. Even the humans that called themselves ‘native’, before they had invented the weapon they called the bow and arrow killed their prey safely. They would find a convenient cliff and run an entire herd over it, killing all. What a waste from a group that claimed they revered the land and animals!
FINALLY it is over, the buffalo is still. I release my hold on the creature and roll off it into the grass and, rest there a minute trying to catch my breath. As I do, Security-Chief releases his hold, kneels on the ground near the creature and, begins working on it. As I recover from the kill I see that Security-Chief has already torn the beast’s belly open with his sharp claws and is in the process of picking out the choice internal organs. He has already swallowed the heart, whole and, is in the process of devouring the liver before remembering me. “Forgive me D’Sefet-Commander!”, he says, his mouth dripping with blood, “In the excitement I forgot, as superior officer, I should have let you have the honor of first meat.” “That quite all rrright Sssecurrrity- Chiefff.”, I begin, thankful that I do not have to display my lack of knowledge in dressing a kill to him, “Yooou did mmmossst of the worrrk and took mmmossst offf the rrrisksss.” “THIS IS GLORIOUS!”, he exclaims as he hands me a slab of raw abdominal muscle the size of my head, “You have truly captured the Kzinti’s idea of paradise here!” Although I prefer my meat blood rare, I do like it cooked. As I hold the bloody piece of meat in my paw, wondering what it will taste like, Security-Chief notices my hesitation and says, “I am sorry, I should have allowed you to choose your own meat instead of giving you a piece like I would a kit.” “Nnno, thisss piece fffine.”, I say as I bring it to my mouth. The first thing I notice is that fresh, raw meat has a strong, distinctive odor that is not related to what animal it comes from. A strangely salty smell that reminds one of an ocean. Although the smell is usually still present when the meat is cooked, even rare, the heat and seasonings make it far less noticeable. I also notice the comparatively cool temperature. I find the difference between oven and body temperature, having more that once burnt my mouth with my first piece of cooked meat, comforting. As I sink my teeth into it, I find it is considerably chewier than when it is cooked which, is not a bad thing. As I begin chewing and the juices begin to run down my throat, I begin to get that primal feeling again. This time even stronger!
Security-Chief and I both eat our fill of meat but, all too soon, it comes time to return to our duties. As he stands, he staggers slightly and, I notice that not all the blood on his uniform is from the buffalo. An alarming amount of it has come from and is still coming from a wound on his right side under his ribs. As I rip a piece of cloth from his uniform and use it to apply pressure to the wound, he says, “I guess the beast got in a lucky swipe!” “We nnneed get yooou tooo Sssick Bay!”, I say, moving to steady him. “I will be all right D’Sefet - Commander, if you will help me to my rooms I can treat it.”, he argues. “That ISss ssseriouss wound Sssecurrrity-Chiefff! I want Ssselarrr tooo trrreat it!”, I order. “BUT Selar IS A FEMALE! As well as a grass eater!”, Security-Chief protests. “That trrrue but, Ssstarfffleet rrregulationsss RrrEQUIRrrE that injurrred pppersssonal MUSssT, ifff posssible, be exammmined and trrreated by doctorrr. Like it orrr nnnot, asss Chiefff offf Sssecurrrity on thisss ssstation, Kzinti orrr not, yooou arrre coverrred by thossse rrregulationsss! Now ifff yooou arrre up tooo it, let usss go!”, I explain. With a dip of his tail, a sign of resignation, we leave the Holodeck. “What happened to you two?”, Dr. Selar questions in her ‘mater-of-fact’ way as the door to Sick Bay slides open and, I realize I look as disheveled as Security-Chief. “We werrre having dinnnerrr.”, I answer, prompting a raised eyebrow from Selar, “He hurrrt.” Selar joins me in helping the large Kzinti male over to an examination bed. “You were ONLY having dinner?”, she questions as she examines Security-Chief’s wound, “With whom . . . KLINGONS?!?” Not understanding what humanoids call sarcasm and forgetting Selar is a female as she begins to treat his injury, Security-Chief answers, “No, alone.” As an uncharacteristic smirk forms on her face, she comments, “This is a serious injury Commander, he has lost a considerable amount of blood.” “Yooou arrre confffident enough tooo trrreat Kzinti arrre yooou nnnot?”, I question, wondering what, if any medical information the Federation Database has on the Kzinti. “I have not had any experience with the Kzinti but, it has been my experience so far that mammalian physiology is similar throughout the galaxy.”, she assures me as she treats the injury, “With a few days rest, he will be as healthy as before.” “A FEW DAYS! I have duties to tend to!”, Security-Chief roars in protests. “Thossse rrregulationsss we werrre talking about alssso ssstate that SssHE can rrremove YOooU fffrom duty on Fffederrration fffacility fffor asss long asss SssHE ssseesss fffit. SssO corrrporrrate with HERrr!”, I advise the unhappy Kzinti. “May I at least be permitted to serve my sentence in private, in my quarters instead of on display in this place!”, Security-Chief humbly asks. “As long as you follow my instructions, I see no logical reason why that won’t be acceptable.”, Selar answers with unVulcan-like understanding.
I have been sore ALL day! As a Starfleet officer, I am in fairly good shape but, bare pawed hunting is seldom ever needed in space. Jacobs found it amusing and amazing that I was aching. I find it strange that humanoids are surprised that creatures other than their beasts of burden and themselves get aches and pains in their muscles and joints. Just because we came from creatures that could NOT afford to show any sign of weakness lest they become victims of other hunters, we can hurt just like the ones that once lived safe in the trees. As my watch ends I make my way to Security-Chief’s quarters, I have a gift for him. Arriving at his door, I find he does not respond. Growing concerned I ask the computer, “What isss prrresssent location offf Sssecurrrity-Chiefff?” “Security-Chief is in his office.”, the computer answers in a voice and manner unusual for Federation Computers. As I head to the Security Office I reflect on my experience with ‘thinking’ machines. Like most advanced creatures, Caitians have been dealing with computers in one form or another for many centuries and talking ones for as long as any in the Federation has. I had yet to sign a board the old Enterprise the time the computer, after having been given a female ‘personality’, developed a love for Admiral Kirk. However I was training as a cadet on her when the computer was affected by an interstellar creature and began playing what humans call ‘practical jokes’ on the crew. The Bozeman’s computer was mostly a non-personality, with a somewhat monotone male voice that was standard equipment for vessels of her era. I must admit that I never got use to the more expressive, female voiced units of newer Federation ships. Even though I have heard that at least in the case of Earth’s ‘house cat’, that the reason it responds to better to females than males is the pitch of the female voice. Our unique pairing of Federation and Kzinti technology has endowed the station’s computer with a voice that sounds somewhat feminine and yet very feline. It is even prone to hiss, growl and purr on occasion. All very natural sounding to me but, it has unnerved a few of the station’s personnel. Reaching the office, I see Security-Chief sitting behind his desk. “I thought Doctorrr Ssselarrr orrrderrred yooou tooo rrrest in yourrr quarrrtersss.”, I comment as I enter. “I got board in my rooms!”, Security-Chief answers defensively. “I cleared it with Doctor Selar.”, 4 answers, adding, “As long as Security-Chief rests behind his desk, she is satisfied.” “Fffine, but yooou rrresponsssible in ssseeing that he doesss.”, I say. 4 of 5 nods in acceptance and goes back to his work. “I have prrresssent forrr yooou Sssecurrrity-Chiefff!’, I announce as I momentarily step out the office’s door and return with a rather large, odd shaped package. As Security-Chief’s eyes blaze with anticipation, as I set the package before him on his desk. He eagerly tears at the wrappings and then stops as the item is revealed, saying, “D’Sefet-Commander, you are to kind! You remembered my trophy!”, Turning to 4 of 5, he continues, as he proudly holds the head in his paws, “This is the head of the beast that wounded me. It will make a fine display for that wall.” “Yesss but, yooou NnnOT tooo ppput it uppp yourrrselfff . . . underrrssstand?”, I inquire. “I will take care of it.”, 4 of 5 answers before Security-Chief can. “Excccellent! Nnnow ifff yooou excussse me, it hasss beennn long day.”, I say. “Yes D’Sefet-Commander and, thank you for my gift!”, Security-Chief answers. I leave him admiring his trophy.
Cat am I sore! I wonder if the liniment humans call Tiger Balm will work on Caitians?
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