On our way to FI9 I have decided it is as good a time as any to begin getting to know my crew. Jacobs, in addition to being a skilled engineer, has an excellent command of not only the Kzinti language but several other common and lesser known languages of the Alpha Quadrant. She is also very interested in learning all she can about Caitian/Kzinti culture. An interest I have let her know we share. I am surprised at the level of her knowledge on the Caitian culture, considering she IS a human. Gerve is what a human would describe as a typical Tellarite, gruff, blunt and all business. Excellent character traits for a First Officer, however, as I have already found out, he is a bit sensitive about the human stereotype of a Tellarite. It will require a bit of effort and, time to skin him, no that’s not correct, confusing human sayings, to get under his skin . . . so to speak.
A few days into our trip, I receive a priority message from Starfleet Command. Due to the nature of the message I feel I need to call a Senior Staff meeting. I am the last to enter the Briefing Room, as I do, the quiet discussions that have been going on abruptly cease. With all eyes on me, I begin, “We nnneed to mmmake ssstop at Wrrrigley’sss Pppleasssure Ppplanet beffforrre connntinuing voyage.” Gerve asks in words what the others are asking by clearing their throats, “Shore Leave already sir?”. “Nooo, we hhhave to pick up annnotherrr crrrew mmmemberrr.”, I answer, handing him the Pad with the information on it and, waiting for his reaction. As his eyes widen, he manages to choke out, “This is a joke, right!” Overcome with curiosity, Jacobs grabs the Pad from Gerve’s hand, “NO WAY!”, she exclaims. “What your comment Doctor?”, I ask Doctor Selar. Jacobs hands the Pad to my Vulcan Chief Medical Officer and after studying the information for a minute she says, predictably, with a raised eyebrow, “Most Illogical!” Seeing the rising curiosity in the rest of the staff’s eyes, I explain, “It wooould apppearrr that halfff-Terrran, halfff-Mrrrowan x-Borrrg drrrone hasss beennn asssigned to Bassstet.” As all jaws drop, I continue, more to myself than to the others present, “I dddo nnnot rrrememmmberrr rrrequesssting sssuch crrreaturrre, I dddo rrrememmmberrr commmenting to sssommmeone that I wasss connncerrrned about having Kzzzinti on Ssstation. They cannn be pppronnne to violennnt outbursssts and at averrrage offf nine fffeet tall, they arrre diffficult to connntrrrol.” “I figure a Borg can, eh.”, Jacobs comments, reminding me that there are others present. “I expppect he will nnneed ssspecial accommmodationsss.”, I say, remembering the briefings I have seen on other Borg on other Federation vessels. Addressing Jacobs I continue, “I asssummme you and Doctorrr can hannndle whateverrr nnneeded?” “I will contact the Chief Medical Officer aboard the Tina and have all his data sent here.”, Doctor Selar promises. “Irrrony isss pppretty irrronic.”, I comment with a line from one of my favorite 20th century Earth DVDs, a line that illustrates how confusing Federation Standard also called English can be, ”I hhhold Ssstarfffleet Borrrg Killerrr Mmmedal!” “If therrre nnnothing elssse . . . ”, I conclude, “Thank you.” “More LIVESTOCK!”, I hear Gerve grunt as he exits.
I sit in the deserted Briefing Room for a long time after the meeting is over, pondering what I have gotten myself into. Before getting on with my duties I decide it is time to visit my Chief Medical Officer. As I make my way to Sick Bay, I try to recall the data in her Starfleet Service Record. Name; Selar, sex; female, race; Vulcan, skill; Doctor. She was aboard the U.S.S. Enterprise when it encountered the U.S.S. Bozeman near the Typhon Expanse but, she was not among the Enterprise’s medical staff that I saw helping the Bozeman’s crew understand and adjust to the fact that they had been considered missing for ninety years. She later accepted the position of Chief Medical Officer on the U.S.S. Excalibur NCC-26517, under the command of Captain Mackenzie Calhoun. Mate: Voltak, Vulcan, deceased. Kits: one, Xyon, half-Vulcan half-Hermat . . . I thought her mate was Vulcan? Well . . . It does not matter. I finish my mental review of the doctor and what I know of Vulcans in general as I reach the door to Sick Bay. Remembering that Vulcans CAN read minds, I use my own ESP skills bury the fact I have been reviewing her Starfleet Record deep in the far recesses of my mind. The doors whoosh open, I step in and am almost run over by what at first glance seems to be a large, fur-less, canine-like creature dressed in some sort of costume. For a second I am stunned, I was aware Humans would sometimes dress their animal companions in dresses or suits but, I was not aware that Vulcans would indulge in such illogical behavior. I then realize I am NOT looking at a companion but a Vulcanoid kit with oversize canine teeth, the pointed ears fooled me. I cannot get use to them on furless human-looking creatures! “XYON!”, a voice calls from across the room prompting the kit to retreat, on all fours, as humans say, to a safe position behind the legs of the owner of the voice, Dr. Selar. “I hope my child has not injured you Captain.”, she begins, adding, “Xyon can get a bit carried away during play time.” Play time? One tends to forget, dealing with adult Vulcans that they only don their unemotional mask as an adult. Vulcan kits are much the same as any other race in the galaxy. “Xyon, apologize to Commander D’Sefet.”, Selar instructs the wide-eyed kit. Instead, Xyon exclaims in a loud voice, “You are correct mommy! He DOES look like a Selay!” I see a decidedly un-Vulacn look wash over my Chief Medical Officer’s face, a look I have seen on many a parent’s face, a look that conveys a hope that the floor would open up and they would fall in. Trying to hide my amusement I answer, “Nnno harrrm donnne Doctorrr.” Then to Xyon, “It logical that I wooould loook like Ssselay, afffter all, boooth ourrr ancessstorsss werrre fffeline in orrrigin.” Presently Selar realizes the fact of my unusual visit and asks, “What can I do for you Commander? Are you ill?” “No.”, I answer, continuing, “I am taking timmme, while available to ggget to knnnow mmmy crrrew bit betterrr. Ffforrr exammmple, I wasss unawarrre you brrrought yourrr kit along.” “Kit?”, Selar questions. “Oh yesss, hummmanoidsss sssay child.”, I answer. “I didn’t think Xyon would be a problem from what I understood was to be the assignment.”, she defends. “I dooo nnnot think therrre will be ppproblem eitherrr but, I ssshould have beennn innnffformed. That exactly why I am mmmeeting with all crrrew individually.”, I explain, “Alssso, I am connncerrrned about ourrr newessst crrrew mmmemberrr. Have you had any experience with Borrrg Technnnology?” “We’re getting a BORG crew member!”, Xyon says with the excitement of a child. “He nnnot Borrrg any lonnngerrr.”, I inform a somewhat disappointed Xyon. “No but, he still has Borg Implants.”, Selar comments, adding,” I had a little experience on the Enterprise assisting Dr. Crusher. I don’t think his implants will pose a problem.” “Goood! That what I like to hearrr, my crrrew fffilled with connnfidence.”, I say, adding, “ Ifff therrre arrre no otherrr connncerrrns I will leave you to rrresssume Ppplay Timmme.” “At the present time I can’t think of any.”, Selar answers. “Well ifff any commme up, do nnnot hesssitate to brrring themmm to mmmy attennntion.”, I say as I begin to exit. Then remembering Xyon I add, “That apppliesss to you asss well Xyonnn.” He smiles, slightly baring his oversize canine teeth in a manner that if he had not been a humanoid could have been misconstrued as a gesture of aggression. I make a mental note to speak to all humanoid crew members about unconscious actions the Kzinti might interpret the wrong way.
A few days later as we near our new destination . . . “Incoming message Captain!”, my Communications Officer reports, “It’s a Mr. Disney, he says he is the administrator of Wrigley’s Pleasure Planet.” “Ppput himmm onnn Ssscreennn”, I say motioning to the Main Bridge Viewing Screen. “How soon are you going to get here?!?”, the nervous little old man with a pencil thin mustache on the screen demands. “We abooout twennnty mmminutesss ooout.”, I answer, adding, owing to his appearance, “Isss therrre ppproblemmm?” “Problem! Problem!”, he shouts, adding in almost a whisper, “There is a BORG on this planet!” “Consssiderrring absssence offf any rrreporrrt to connntrarrry, I am asssummming you rrreffferrring to 4 offf 5?”, I ask. “OF COURSE I AM! How soon can you get that THING out of here?!? If it ever got out there were BORG here it would ruin business!”, the human replies. I am slow to anger, I think any creature that possess claws, fangs or other natural, built-in weapons capable of killing must be in control of himself at all times but . . . “HhhEARrr!”, I begin, loud enough for all on the Bridge to as well, “That THING isss sssentient being, Fffederrration citizen, offficerrr offf Ssstarfffleet AND, mmmember offf mmmy crrrew. I expppect . . . NO DEMmmAND that he be affforrrded ALL rrrightsss and ppprivilegesss thossse thingsss ennntitle himmm to. ANYONE that not do that will hhhave to anssswerrr to ME! Isss that clearrr?!?” I finish by curling my upper lip just enough to display my long, pointy Canine Teeth. A little taken a back, Mr Disney calms himself and tries to assure me that he meant no disrespect and had not been aware of the situation. I finish our conversation by saying, “You quite dissstance fffrommm Fffederrration Fffacility out herrre. It mmmost posssible that ifff you have prrroblemmm, thisss vesssel wooould be one offf fffirssst to anssswerrr yourrr call. It alssso posssible 4 offf 5 wooould be aboarrrd. Keep that in mmmind. Bassstet out!” As I look around the Bridge, I see I have given others something to think on as well.
After we establish a standard orbit around the planetoid I invite Jacobs and Dr. Selar to join me in the Transporter Room. As the Bastet’s newest crew member finishes transporting I greet him, “Welcommme aboarrrd 4 of 5 orrr do you preffferrr Lu Rrrod? I am Lieu . . . Commmanderrr D’Sssefffet.” “I prefer 4, sir.”, 4 of 5 answers as he steps down from the Transporter Pad. “Thisss mmmy Chiefff Enginnneerrr.”, I inform, motioning to Jacobs. Motioning to Dr. Selar, “And thisss Bassstet’sss Chiefff Mmmedical Offficerrr.” 4 of 5 acknowledges each as I introduce them with a nod. “Pppleassse accommmpany Doctorrr Ssselarrr to Sssick Bay”, I instruct. “I’m not ill. . . . Sir.”, 4 of 5 protests. “I underrrstannnd but, becaussse offf yourrr unique physssiology, I want herrr to exammmine you, ifff you rrrequirrre any ssspecial accommmodationsss, pleassse informmm herrr.”, I explain, adding, “We talk laterrr.” With another nod, 4 of 5 follows Dr. Selar out of the Transporter Room. “Scarey eh?”, Jacobs comments as she also exits. I look at the Transporter Chief as I exit, expecting a comment but, he maintains his business like demeanor.
WELL . . . We are FINALLY here! I do have to confess, the sight of the Kzinti Space Station, a gigantic ‘Paw Print’ floating in space is very imposing. As we approach, “Captain, sensors indicate a small vessel approaching from the direction of the Kzinti Patriarchy.”, Tactical reports. “ We are being hailed.”, he adds. “Onnn ssscrrreen.”, I order. A large tiger-like feline image appears on the screen and begins to speak, “I am Security - Chief. Do I have the honor of speaking to Sef - Commander?” “I am Commmanderrr D’Sssefffet.”, I answer. “Forgive me D’Sefet - Commander, I meant no dishonor to you.”, the Kzinti says. “That alrrright Sssecurrrity - Chiefff. Isss therrre ppproblemmm?”, I inquire. “There might be, I suggest no one beam over to Chugra 10 without me.”, Security - Chief answers ominously. “Wooould you exppplain pppleassse?”, I ask. “Yes, of course, D’Sefet - Commander, forgive me. It has been told to me that there might be some Protection Devices still functioning on the station.”, he answers. “I underrrstannnd Sssecurrrity - Chiefff. We will trrransssport to ssstationnn sssammme timmme as you, thannnk you. Bassstet out.”, I say. After we establish orbit, the Kzinti signals he is ready to transport over. Due to the possible danger, I am limiting the personnel that will beam over to an Away Team made up of Jacobs, 4 of 5, Dr. Selar and myself. Gerve, in typical First Officer style wanted to lead the Away Team into possible danger in the place of his captain but, I fear the gruff natural demeanor of a Tellarite and the volatile temper of a Kzinti will need a VERY slow introduction. We materlize in the station’s Control Center a few seconds after Security - Chief has. “NO ONE MOVE!”, the Kzinti commands, swiping the air with formidable looking claws that make me glad 4 of 5 is here. As we all stand as statues, Security - Chief rushes to an active consol, presses a few buttons and announces, “All is safe now!” As the Away Team feels it is safe to move or even breath, the first words out of Jacobs’ mouth is, “WHAT IS THAT SMELL?!?” “Most disagreeable!”, Dr. Selar adds raising an eye brow. I try to cover up what I know it is by saying, “The Ssstationnn abannndon lonnng timmme, mmmaybe sssommme Kzzzinti ppprey wasss leffft on boarrrd and died.” Unfortunately Security - Chief corrects me by saying, “No D’Sefet - Commander, forgive me, it is the marking of the previous station Commander. “Previous Commander’s marking. . . YUCK . . . eh! Where?”, Jacobs comments, looking around. Being a typical Kzinti, Security - Chief does not answer or even pay attention to Jacobs, because she is a female. However when I reask her question he answers, “Traditionally, the place of command is marked in the direction of the four breath’s of the Great Fanged One. Hot, Cold, Fair and Foul.” “Oh, north, south, east and west on the compass.”, Jacobs interprets. Much to the surprise of Security - Chief, if I read his ears and eyes correctly. “You will have to mark over the previous Commander’s marks before the station’s computers will recognize you.”, Security - Chief informs. “Fffortunnnately that not be nnnecesssary. I mmmean, Jacobsss ppplannning on rrrefffitting ssstationnn with Fffederrration commmputerrrs . . . Corrrect?”, I say. “Uh . . . Commander . . . We planned to use the Kzinti computer as the system’s base.”, Jacobs announces. “Ifff nnneeded you pppreparrred to rrreppplace entirrre sssystemmm . . . Corrrect?”, I ask hopefully. “I’m sorry but, we only brought enough equipment for Interfacing. To replace the entire system we would need a shipload of parts and six months work!”, She informs, adding with a smirk growing on her furless face, “If the computer needs you to mark the station, I’m afraid you will have to do it.” “Doctorrr, you be able to helppp with prrroblemmm . . . Will you not?”, I question, growing a bit panicky. “In what way do you have in mind?”, the good Doctor calmly inquires, a smirk, I swear, briefly crossing her face too. “Ifff we cleannn ssstationnn thrrroughly I guesss I cannn rrrub pppawsss oooverrr ssstationnn.”, say. “I am sorry but, that will not be enough D’Sefet - Commander.”, Security - Chief informs. Thinking of how I ‘Marked’ my special project, I question, “But it wwworrrked ffforrr my Kzzzinti pppatrrrol ssship!” “That will work for the pilot of a small craft but, you , D’Sefet - Commander are in charge of an entire Kzinti Space Station!”, Security - Chief exclaims with pride. “But I am Caitian, we dooo nnnot . . . ”, I begin. “YOU ARE FELINE!”, Security - Chief exclaims, “We are the chosen rulers of the universe! Where ever those like us live among those like them (he motions to Dr. Selar and Jacobs). We are the hunters they are the prey! Look at them! Sniff the air! Smell their fear! It is our right to . . . Forgive me D’Sefet - Commander. I was over come by the moment.” Who ever decided to assign 4 of 5 to this mission, I owe them BIG! As Security - Chief was at the height of his rant, I saw that 4 of 5 was readying himself for whatever might come next. His claws were out but NOT displayed as not to add to the volatile situation and, every muscle was tensed, ready to spring into action. “That alrrright Sssecurrrity - Chiefff.”, I say calmly, trying to sooth everyone, “Dooo I have to ‘Mmmarrrk’ entirrre ssstationnn?” “No D’Sefet - Commander, although most Kzinti would, all that is required is for you to mark the Control Center.” “Fffinnne, then let us get to wwworrrk. Asss sssoonnn asss Connntrrrol Cennnterrr rrready I will dooo my “duty”.”, I order. As Jacobs begins her work and 4 of 5, Dr. Selar and Security - Chief head off to find their stations, I call Gerve and have him begin sending the rest of the Station’s crew over.
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