Wednesday, August 7, 2019

Star Trek: Federation Installation Nine, Episode 10 Camp




In this adventure, I had to find names for the Danube Class Runabouts assigned to FI-9. Continuing the tradition of naming them after Earth's rivers I chose, U.S.S. Rhine, Volga, Tigris (what did you think I would chose for a feline run installation) and, my favorite since it is the river that runs by my home, Columbia.

WHAT I DID ON MY SUMMER VACATION by: D'SEFET
or
HEY! THIS ISN'T CAMP RUNA MUCKA!

For a instant things seemed routine. I am lying down, my eyes closed and all is quiet. I think I am in my bed, in my quarters on FI-9. Then I remember a group of my officers and I have accompanied a Starfleet expert in survival training on a ten day course. The plan is simple, we will 'crash' one of the four runabouts assigned to FI-9 on a planet and try and live off the land. Now something seems to have gone terribly wrong. After gingerly making sure I am in one piece I begin the business of being a good captain, seeing to the welfare of my crew. I remember I am in the rear compartment of the runabout with Doctor Selar, Jacobs and the expert, Commander Thomas are in the cockpit. As I open my eyes, I can see all systems are down. There is no sound of the engines and the room is lit only by the unusual amount of light coming through the aft viewports. I can see Doctor Selar lying on the deck across the cabin. By the time I struggled to my feet and reached her, she is stirring. "What happened", she asks as she is checking herself as I had checked myself. "I do not know. Are you ok?", I question as I help her to her feet. "I seem to be unhurt Commander, you?", she answers. "Ok I think.", I reply as I head for the door leading to the corridor through the sleeping modules to the Cockpit, "We have to get to Jacobsss and Comanderrr Thomas!" There is no power to the door so I begin to force it. The door soon opens and Selar and I continue on to the door to the Cockpit. As I try and get my claws into the space between the door and the opening, "Commander! If the Cockpit is open to space, you could be endangering our lives.", Selar advises. "If Cockpit isss uninhabitable, we will not have long to live anyway.", I say. "Logical", she comments as she joins me in the prying. As the door gives way, we are dazzled by a bright light and a cool breeze. Instead of the blackness of space showing through the cracked front viewports, there is blue sky. As we enter I find Jacobs slumped over the Engineering station. As I check her, Doctor Selar sees to Commander Thomas who was manning the Flight Controls. "He's dead Commander.", Selar reports as she joins me in examining an unconscious Jacobs. After helping Selar get Jacobs to the deck, I begin ascertaining the condition of our vessel. Although mostly intact, the ship systems are dead. "There isss no powerrr to readoutsss, I will have to go outside and make visual inspection.", I inform Selar as I grab a Tricorder and Phaser.

It is a nice day for a crash landing, I think to myself as I force open the outer starboard hatch. A yellow sun is dropping low in a cloudless azure blue sky. The air, a bit cool for a creature that is descended from ones that evolved in a jungle, is alive with the sounds of birds and insects and the smells of fertile dirt and flowers. We have been lucky, the Volga has apparently landed on top of a vast, high plateau, and stopped just short of plummeting off it's steep side, the view of an almost uninterrupted green canopy of trees, stretching to the horizon is inspiring and as I consider what might be concealed in such a vast forest, frightening.

"What's the damage eh?", Jacobs asks as I renter the Cockpit. "How is ssshe Doctorrr?", I ask. Before Selar can answer, Jacobs says, "I'm ok! No major damage Commander." "A few bumps and lacerations is all I can find to treat Commander but, I would like her to rest a while.", Selar reports. Jacobs gives Selar a exasperated look and protests, "I'm OK! What about my Runabout!" Seeing that she will not stay calm as Selar wishes I say, "If you will rrrest as Doctorrr hasss advised, I will tell you." With the look of a frustrated kit forming on her face, Jacobs sits back down, folds her arms across her chest and asks, "WELL!" "Otherrr than cracked front viewportsss and few dentsss, starboard side is undamaged. Problem is on port ssside.", I inform. "Go on!", Jacobs requests. "We are missing port nacelle.", I finish. "Torn off in the crash?", Selar asks. "No, from look of mount and ground, it was blown of while we were in ssspace.", I say. "I thought something hit us!", Jacobs exclaims. "Explain?", I ask. "When we were in flight, you and the Doctor were in the back. It wasn't a really BIG bump but, it was noticeable. Commander Thomas was at the controls and I thought his lack of experience at a Runabout's controls might have been the cause of the crash." "It would have taken a violent event to do such damage, would it not?", Selar questions. "Normally but, the right amount of force at the exactly right spot could result in the type of damage without destroying the ship.", Jacobs answers. "All thisss very interesting and will be needed when an official inquiry isss convened howeverrr, forrr moment, we are ssstranded on unknown planet, expert that wasss to teach us how to survive isss dead and, no one will miss us forrr at least ten daysss! Even then, not being on planet we had planned to visit, will make ourrr rrrescue at best difficult!", I interject. "Gerve is such a mother hen, he'll be checking on us long before the ten days are up.", Jacobs says. I am not sure what relationship a male Tellarite would have to a female bird but I understand the idea and add, "I thought of that, I ordered him to ssstay away from planet we planned to use." Knowing we are all well trained in handling any situation yet seeing the optimism leave the faces of my crew, I realize it is time to be a leader again, "SO, it will be up to usss to get along here until help arrivesss. We will need waterrr, food and, shelterrr in that orderrr. Volga, even in thisss condition ssshould provide shelterrr." "I'll see if I can rig up a power source and see if I can get the lights back on at least.", Jacobs says. "There should be a Molecular Bio Filtration Unit in the emergency equipment, that will make any water we find usable.", Selar adds. "While you two check in here, I will have look around and sssee what resourcesss planet has to offer.", I say. "Uh Sef. . .", Jacobs begins as I head for the hatch. As I turn, she continues, "We need to take care of Commander Thomas first." The main Caitian rule of survival is "Take Care of the Living! The Dead Do Not Care!" It is a hard rule, one written by millions of years of struggle just to stay alive in a universe that is against you every day but, it is the civilized thing to do. "Right! Get him rrready and I will dig grave.", I order.

After a simple burial near the ship, we all continue with the business of our survival. It is getting late, fortunately with my feline low light vision, twilight still appears quite bright to me. I know Selar will keep Jacobs from over doing things so I set out on my walk without to many worries.

It is well dark when I return, fortunately after the sun set, two small moons rose and provided some light. I see as I near the Volga that Jacobs has been hard at work and power for cabin lights at least has been restored. "There you are! I was beginning to worry!", is the way Jacobs greets me as I step in. "I ssspent sssome time nearrr cliff, looking forrr any unatural light sourcesss that would indicate we are not alone here but, only sssaw few 'Servantsss of the Fanged One'.", I reply. "What?!", Jacobs asks. "That isss what my motherrr called ballsss of light that form in wet landsss. Superstitiousss believe they are spiritsss of Caitiansss Great Fanged One would not let into underworld forrr some rrreason. Actually they are just methane gasss from rotting vegetation that have been ignited by some heat sssource.", I explain. "Oh 'Will-o the Wisps' eh.", Jacobs answers. "Will the what?", I ask. Selar, tiring of such illogical rhetoric interrupts, "The name of the ghost, illogical, superstitious humans blamed for the phenomena on Earth." Getting back to the problem at paw, I say, "I sssee you have rrrestored powerrr, what is ourrr statusss?" "I restored partial Auxiliary Power, it will be enough to keep the runabout liveable and provide short range scanners and communications but that's about all. I found some Photovoltaics and tomorrow I will rig them up to replenish our reserves and power the equipment during the day time. I will see if I can repair any of the damage Storage Cells to give us a little more juice.", Jacobs reports. Before I can comment, Selar begins, "I have found all Emergency Supplies stored on board. There isn't much, besides the Molecular Bio Filtration Unit, we have four Personal Survivor Kits, a few gallons of water and, some Nourishment Bars. Add to that my Medical Kit and there's still not much to live on." "Fortunately, planet will provide usss with sssome suppliesss.", I say as I pull a few items from under my uniform top, "Thisss looksss like leaf plant my motherrr grew in herrr garden and these appear to be tubers something like Earth'sss potato." Handing the plants to Selar, I continue, "I will leave it up to you to determine if they are poisonousss or edible. For meat eatersss I caught these!" "Those look like Klingon Rats!", Jacobs observes as I, like many felines before me, proudly present two large, dead rodents to the humanoids. "They are, Bird of Prey probably landed here sometime in past. Theirrr Cargo Holds are usually infested with creaturesss. Klingonsss usually let their Targs catch them forrr exercise. I hope you can eat them rrraw, there wasss not enough time to gatherr wood forrr fire.", I comment as I head outside to prepare them for eating, followed by looks of disdain from both Jacobs and Selar. "I don't think we need eat them raw Commander.", Jacobs says as she joins me outside, "I'll clean off that large, flat rock over there and with a little Phaser fire, I'll grill you up some of the best Rat Steaks you've ever had!" In a few minutes, as Jacobs has the meat sizzling on the rock, Selar joins us and reports, "Both plants species are edible Commander." "Great, throw them on the rock and I'll soften them up for you Doctor!", Jacobs yells from the direction of the 'grill'. "Thank you Commander Jacobs but, I will consume them raw this time.", Selar answers. As we sit down under the stars to eat, the two small moons providing the light, I plan what we will need to do to survive tomorrow. "We will need to use scannersss to get idea of what terrain around here isss like tomorrow.", I begin. "I have already completed a topographical survey Commander.", Selar answers, "Although something is interfering with the scans, the data received indicates that from this point, the land slopes south at a gradual incline. Approximately 399.288 meters due south are a series of lakes and streams, probably fresh water. Ground cover from here to the tree line is much as you see it and, the tree line begins near the lakes. There are abundant life signs but none humanoid." "How can we get waterrr from lake to here?", I ask. "I found two, empty, 55 liter containers.", Jacobs reports. "Do not human femalesss like to carry thingsss on theirrr headsss?", I ask, teasingly. "NOT THIS HEAD!", Jacobs replies in mock indignation, pointing to her head. "Well I guesss we will have to come up with sssome sssort of yoke. I saw sssome trees near here that we can use. In morning I will get sssome wood while you rrrig containersss to be carried by it.", I say , "Also, to conserve ourrr energy I think we ssshould adopt ssschedule of retiring and rrrising with sssun." Both women nod in agreement. Shortly thereafter we secure the Volga for the night.

By late the next morning, I have fashioned the yoke and Jacobs has attached the containers, looking at our invention I comment, "Only thing left to do isss to test it. Any volunteersss?" Hearing nothing from my crew, I don the yoke and ask, "You will at least accompany me to lake will you not?" That they are willing to do. The empty unit is surprisingly comfortable with my uniform and fur acting as padding.

With 110 liters of water weighing it down, it becomes a bit uncomfortable, as I found out on our way back to the ship. It was on one of the rest breaks I had to take that this happened. "What is that!", Doctor Selar asks, indicating a large object just off the path ahead. My nose knows so I answer, "It isss some kind of animal and from sssmell it would appear it isss dead." "Obviously Commander I can see that but, why is the flesh so white and why does it shimmer so?", Selar replies. As we draw closer the answer becomes clear. "MAGGOTSss!", I exclaim. Millions of them, covering every inch of the animal's body, wiggling, crawling, feeding in terrible beauty. "YES!", Jacobs says as she scoops a bunch up into a small container from her survival kit. "What is the reason you want a sample of those insects Commander Jacobs?", Selar asks as she scans the site with her Tricorder, "They appear to be the common variety maggot, larvae of an insect similar to the Terran House Fly." "Fishing!" Jacobs answers. "What?", Selar responds. "Fishing, you said that lake had aquatic life, maybe some of them are hungry. I have never met a fish that didn't like a juicy bug!", Jacobs explains.

I have always admired human ingenuity, I guess when nature drops your race on a planet where you are the creature least equipped to survive, with pitifully short claws, extremely dull teeth, a poor sense of smell, marginal eye sight and, you can take your numbers from an almost extinct ten thousand or less to billions, you must have something going for you. From studying human history it would appear their belief in a god or more properly the trust they put in the lazy, psychopaths that claimed to be his 'messenger' is what hindered the human race for a long time. It was only when these 'prophets' were shown for the lowlife, charlatans they were that the race began their climb toward happiness. In less than a hour of us returning to the Volga, Jacobs had fabricated a usable fishing pole and hook using a tree limb, some Opti-Cable and the bones from the Klingon Rats we had eaten the night before. "Well I'm off to catch some big ones!", she announces, adding, "With your permission Commander." "To what 'Big Ones' are you referring Commander Jacobs?", Selar asks. "FISH! Doctor!", Jacobs responds. "I never said there were fish in the lake, just aquatic life.", Selar explains. "Well. . . Whatever's in there, if I can hook it, I'll eat it!", Jacobs says in true fisherman's spirit. "Just minute!", I say, "I will come with you. I do not want you fishing alone." "COMMANDER! I'm a big girl, besides one of you will need to gather more veggies and one of you will need to stay with the ship and process the water.", she counters. When she is correct she is correct. So I order. . . beg, "Well, ssstay out of water and check in at least once every half hourrr! Rememberrr, if there are thingsss worth eating in lake, there will be other thingsss eating them!" "I will mother.", she calls as she shoulder the fishing pole and starts down the path to the lake.

While she is gone, it is decided Selar should look for vegetables because she can quickly determine if they are edible or not and, I will process the water. Also I plan to gather some wood and make a fire pit to save Phaser energy. I plan to use some of the wreckage torn off the Volga to fashion a cooking surface. If I can find the correct material and there is enough time, I will also try and produce some cooking implements as well.

Jacobs returns late in the afternoon with three of the ugliest creatures I have ever seen. They look like a cross between a fat snake or eel and a turtle, with a long, relatively thin body and a head with a beak like mouth made for eating plants. Selar, having returned from her plant gathering, scans the catch and pronounces, "They are edible."

Looks not withstanding, Jacobs' catch does taste good, better, I think when cooked with my cooking utensils. With our survival needs met, one would think our stay on the planet would be a roll in the Catmint however. . .

When I suggested it, I thought my order for us to sleep with the sun was a good idea. Thinking like a Starfleet Officer, I knew it would conserve our limited power resources and protect us from any nocturnal predators that might roam the planet. I was NOT thinking like a felinoid. With our special senses, darkness is a friend, an ally. After a few days I saw the error and tried to correct it, not without some problems.

"Buenas tardes, Senor D'Sefet!", Jacobs greets me in one of Earth's strange, dead languages as I emerge from the rear compartment of the Volga. "What?", I ask. "She said Good afternoon Mister D'Sefet in old Spanish Commander.", Selar enlightens, "Obviously a comment on the time of your rising." I counter, "I am Catitan, not Spanish but, we also know about heat of day. Isss there not an old Earth sssong that saysss only rabid canninesss and humansss go out in midday sssun?" That's Englishmen!", Jacobs corrects. "Rabid Englishmen and Humansss go out in midday sssun?", I answer. "Mad D. . . Oh never mind!", Jacobs gives up. "Besidesss, hunting forrr me is betterrr at night.", I inform ending the discussion. . . for the moment.

"May I speak with you a moment Security-Chief", Gerve asks as he enters FI-9's Security Office. "Of course Gerve-Lieutenant Commander.", Security-Chief answers, his ears displaying surprise at this rare happening, "Is there a problem?" I'm not sure. Commander Thomas was expecting to hear about a new assignment and left word with Communications that if a message came, to contact him immediately." Not understanding the reason for Gerve's concern, Security-Chief asks, "Did the message arrive and was Thomas-Commander contacted." "The message arrived but, Communications is unable to contact Commander Thomas or any of the Away Team.", Gerve answers. As someone trained in security, Security-Chief attempts to find an explanation, "I understand the mission was to simulate a crash landing and train the Away Team in new survival techniques. Is it possible they are not responding to preserve the illusion of the accident?" "I thought of that, so as the Bastet returned from her last patrol I took a little side trip to the planed location of mission.", Gerve answers. "I thought D'Sefet-Commander ordered you to stay away from the planet they were going to use", Security-Chief questions with amazement, not yet grasping the fact that Starfleet encourages it's officers to think for themselves. "I made no effort to interfere with the mission, I just wanted to make sure things were going well.", Gerve defends. "And", Security-Chief asks a bit perturbed. "We could not find any trace that they were ever on the planet. I was wondering if Commander D'Sefet changed the location of the mission and didn't inform me.", Gerve inquires. "He did not inform me as to any change.", Security-Chief answers, adding, "Have you attempted to locate the Volga's electronic scent", Security-Chief asks. "Scent", Gerve questions. "You know. . . Oh what does the Federation call it. . . The Volga's Transponder Signal.", Security-Chief says. "After we didn't find them on the planet, that was the first thing I did. NOW I'm worried!", Gerve informs. "D'Sefet-Commander could have changed the location without informing anyone.", Security-Chief theorizes. "And turned off the Volga's Transponder? That would be against Starfleet Regulations.", Gerve replies, "We have to instigate a search." "Very well. Keep me informed Gerve-Lieutenant Commander.", Security-Chief answers thinking the meeting is over. "You don't understand Security-Chief. One of us will have to take the Bastet and search the outlying star systems and one of us will have to take command here.", Gerve informs, "Everything considered, I think I should take charge of the Station." "Can not one of your subordinates take command of the Bastet?", Security-Chief questions hopefully. "They could but, I think the Commander would want a member of his Senior Staff on board too.", Gerve answers. Security-Chief knows this to be true and observes, "Hunting for the Volga will be like. . . What do the humans say? "Like looking for a piece of hay in a stack of needles"?" "True!", Gerve agrees as the two settle down to work out the plan's details.

Where life exists, there are things that exist off that life, no one is exempt. It has even been found that the smallest fluid sucking insect has an even smaller animal sucking its fluids. Usually, by careful attention to hygiene and other measures one can avoid any problems. However under less than modern circumstances. . . "What IS wrong with you Sef?!", Jacobs asks as I have to stop what I am doing and scratch for what seems like the millionth time. Noting Jacobs' observation, Selar activates her Tricorder and points it in my direction. After a few moments she renders her diagnosis, "It would appear you have an infestation of Siphonaptera Commander. Probably from those Klingon Rats." "Siphon what e ah?", Jacobs asks. "Fleas Commander Jacobs.", Selar informs as she digs into her Medical Kit. Turning to me, with a bottle in hand, she continues, "This should correct the problem." "FLEAS!", Jacobs echos with glee. Then turning mock serious, "I guess I'll have to make you up a Flea Collar Commander, after I give you a bath." Although I know she is joking at my expense, she has unwittingly broached a subject I have been avoiding. All mammals make use of what is essentially water to regulate body temperature. Whether Human, Vulcan or Klingon, Canine or Feline all sweat and although Caitians look like creatures that perspire through their mouths and paws, sweaty paws could not hold weapons or tools very well. This body fluid by itself is not much of a problem however, when it is ingested by the bacteria that lives on all creatures skin. . . Well, I would imagine you know what happens. After a eleven days, even following all Starfleet Regulations for emergency sanitation, the Volga crash site was beginning to REEK! I am told Caitian odor smells oddly like something humans call Pop Corn. Humans, regardless of the level of melanin in their skin have a strangely, pungent, spicy scent and Vulcans, probably because of their strictly vegetarian diet have the least intense odor I have personally witnessed. However it is still present. Before I can reply, Selar, crinkling up her face, begins, "Now that you mention it Commander Jacobs. . . Commander D'Sefet isn't the only one needing a bath!" "I. . .", Jacobs begins but I cut her off, "We all smell! Is there way we can use Sonic Showerrr?" "Sorry Sef, not enough juice from the cells.", Jacobs answers in cryptic Federation Standard. "Well that limitsss our choicesss to one, BATH!", I declare, much to the surprise of Jacobs and Selar. "I was under the impression no feline liked to get wet Sef.", Jacobs says. "Yes, Commander, I was under the impression that with all that body fur. . .", Selar begins to add. Surprised at the assumptions of my crew I ask, "What do you think Caitiansss did in past?" "Uh, well. . .", Jacobs says while making what I assume are meaningless movements with her hands and head. Selar raises an eyebrow and replies uncomfortably, "Yes. . . Well Commander what do you propose?"

Security-Chief is not pleased with all the aspects of the plan he and Gerve came up with. His least favorite item is that he should take the Bastet out to search. Security-Chief has a secret, he intensely dislikes space travel. More over, he is not thrilled with anything related to living or working in the cold, airless void known as 'space'. He believes that if the Great Fanged One had intended the Kzinti to be in space he would have given them Spacesuits instead of fur but, he is bound to serve the Patriarch where needed. In addition, he is worried about commanding humans. While on FI-9 he had many times ordered subordinate humans to do things, he had always been acting under the auspices of the Federation and in particular D'Sefet-Commander. Now he is on his own and, the Bastet's Second Officer, the primary human he will be depending on is a female! Lastly, his usual garb on FI-9 is a simple sash with a Federation Phaser replacing the traditional Wtsai. As a Kzinti, in a position of command, he will be expected to wear a uniform! As he is trying on his seldom worn and now ill fitting uniform, he is interrupted by someone outside his Quarter's door. Opening it he finds his sister Sarrah. Pushing past him, she enters his room, wheels around to face him and begins, "You are going to hunt for D'Sefet-Commander and the others?" Ears displaying his anger at his sister's impertinence, he answers, "Yes, I am preparing to leave now." "I wish to go too!", she announces. "Have you taken leave of your sanity female?!", Security-Chief asks and then seeing a quizzical expression on his sister's ears, "What?!" "Are you planning to wear that?", Sarrah asks indicating his attire. Tugging at the fabric in a last vain effort to adjust it he meekly answers, "yes." Sizing up the problem, she says as she holds out her paw, "Here, give it to me." Looking around Security-Chief's quarters for the tools to adjust her brother's uniform, Sarrah reiterates, "I want to hunt for my friends too! They maybe injured and I am training to be a Tender! " Security-Chief's gut reaction is again to rebuke his sister but, he pauses. In her short time on the station she has had closer contact with the humans and the humans seem to like and are not intimated by her. He finds himself considering an unusual idea. After a few minutes, as Sarrah paws his modified uniform back to him she asks again, "I want to go!" As he tries on the garment and Sarrah prepares for an argument, he answers, "The vessel leaves in twenty minutes, DO NOT be late!" "I WANT. . .", Sarrah begins then realizing what her brother has said stops and with genuine sincerity and respect says, "Thank you my lord." As Sarrah hurries off to prepare for the voyage Security-Chief wonders if he has made the worst mistake of his life.

A few days later, most of Security-Chief's fears have been put to rest. The Bastet's crew are professionals and to them Security-Chief is the duly appointed Captain on this mission, deserving of the same respect and devotion they would give to Gerve or D'Sefet. They were however relieved that Security-Chief didn't follow Kzinti tradition and 'mark' his crew. Also Sarrah's presence and quiet strength helps reassure the humans that they are in little danger of being eaten by this nine foot tall tiger-man.

They have sniffed two systems and found nothing when. . . "Picking up a vessel dead ahead Comm. . . Uh, Security-Chief.", the human at Opps reports, adding, "It is a Kzinti." Before Security-Chief can respond, he adds, "We are being hailed." "On screen.", Security-Chief orders like he has heard both D'Sefet and Gerve do. A second before the Kzinti Commander's face appears on the View Screen Security-Chief remembers Sarrah is standing directly behind him! There is no time to get her off the Bridge! What will be the Kzinti's reaction to seeing a kzinrret out of her proper place! As the image appears on their screen, the Kzinti Captain and his bridge crew are surprised to find themselves looking at a Federation Starship's Bridge maned by humans and dominated by a uniformed Kzinti in the Captain's Chair. A puzzled Kzinti cautiously begins, "Captain?" "I am Security-Chief, serving the Patriarch and the Federation on Chugra 10 now called Federation Installation 9 in command of the U.S.S. Bastet.", Security-Chief informs. "Greeting Security-Chief, I am Commander-Flyer, commanding the Patriarch's cruiser Protecting Paw, may I inquire as to the purpose of your presents in this area.", Commander-Flyer asks with respect. "One of the vessels based at Federation Installation 9 is missing and, there are concerns it may be in trouble. I am conducting a hunt for it.", Security-Chief briefly explains, reasonably sure the Bastet is still in Federation space and then, "Have you had any reports that might give a sign of the craft?" Security-Chief is a little surprised to see Commander-Flyer lean over and consult a readout in apparent response to his question. "What is the vessels size?", Commander-Flyer questions. Security-Chief hesitates for a moment, worried about giving out to much information but, deciding the question is valid answers, "It is a small vessel called a Runabout, a crew of four." "There are no reports of finding such a vessel or its wreckage in Kzinti space.", Commander-Flyer informs, "In the interest of peace and cooperation, I will notify the fleet to keep an eye open for any sign of the vessel and contact you if something is found." "The Federation and I would be most apperceptive of any assistance the brave warriors of the Patriarch's fleet can give.", Security-Chief replies, laying it on a bit thick in the minds of his human crew. As the conversation ends, Commander-Flyer comments, "I can see service to the Federation has benefits service to the Patriarch does not." Noting the puzzlement in Security-Chief's ears Commander-Flyer continues, "I know of no Kzinti, not even an admiral that can have his favorite female on the bridge with him." Security-Chief now again remembers Sarrah and sees that she has draped herself around and over the back of the Captain's Chair and as any kzinrret might do is happily and mindlessly kneading the chair while looking at Security-Chief with adoring eyes. Then, as if on cue, she switches to kneading the nearest part of Security-Chief's uniform. Finally in a effort to reinforce the assumption in Commander-Flyer's mind, Sarrah leans over and begins slowly licking the back of one of Security-Chief's paws with her rough tongue. All Security-Chief can do is allow his body language to register his embarrassment and Commander-Flyer, picking up on this hastily signs off. After Security-Chief is certain all channels are closed he reaches out to stop Sarrah from continuing to lick his paw, accidentally knocking her to the deck in the process. Picking herself up off the deck, she says, "I think he bought it." "Bought it?! Bought WHAT?!", Security-Chief asks angered by his embarrassment. "Why, that I am YOUR favored Kzinrret my lord!", Sarrah answers with amusement sounding in her voice. To that, Security-Chief hisses and makes a half-hearted attempt to cuff her with the soft part of his paw but, Sarrah is to fast, dodging out of the way and retreating to a safe distance. Regaining his decorum, Security-Chief refocuses his efforts on the task at hand with a new found admiration for his sister's intelligence.

My proposal is simple, go to one of the lakes and wash ourselves and our uniforms. First problem, no soap. With Sonic Showers it is not needed and when you have access to a Replicator, you do not need to do laundry. I am sure Jacobs and Selar could figure out how to make soap, I believe we do have access to the raw materials but, I do not want to invest that much time in the project. Second problem, modesty, we are all professional Starfleet Officers however, there are two female and one male humanoids here. After seeing what creature dumb enough to allow Jacobs to catch it is swimming in the lakes, I worry about smarter ones. Bottom line, I want no one shoulder high in the water unobserved. I wear a garment under my uniform that covers my lower torso. It helps to keep my fur in those tender areas from being pulled by the fabric of my uniform. I hope Jacobs and Selar have similar garments.

While not crazy with all aspects of my solution, both females agree it has to be done so, the next morning, we make our way to the smallest, shallowest and hopefully warmest of the lakes we have found. There is a short, awkward, moment as we all stand on the shore then, being the leader, I wade in. The water is not to cold, rather pleasant. Soon I am beginning to become buoyant so I stop and remove my uniform. The secret to getting clothes clean, my mother taught me, is not the soap but to make sure a lot of water passes though the weave. After making sure I am thoroughly soaked, I pull my uniform through the water and wring it out a few times. Then hoping my actions have not attracted any unwanted attention from any hungry aquatic creatures, I make my way to the shore. The morning air is cool against my wet fur, I feel sorry for the two furless women. As soon as I am on firm ground, I unconsciously do what any fur covered creature would do, I shake myself to get as much of the excess water off my fur as possible, much to the dismay of the near by Selar. While I was in the water and Selar was keeping an eye on me, Jacobs busied herself by gathering fire wood and building a fire to help dry ourselves and our uniforms. As Selar and I approach the fire, Jacobs emits a long, low whistle and says while looking at me, "Sarrah is one lucky kzinrret!" I do not understand to what she is referring to as a look to see if I am still covered by my under garment. "I always thought those broad shoulders and manly chest was just your fur Sef!", she says citing the fact that with my fur plastered to my skin, my true physique is discernable. "I am Starfleet oficerrr! Fitnesss is requirement.", I reply as another irresistible urge to shake begins to over take me. I had forgotten just how much water my fur can retain but, she finds out, "Thanks Sef, now I won't need to get into the water!" I know she is joking so I ignore her and look for a stick to hang my uniform on to dry.

The human saying "Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder" is one of the few I understand. Caitians have a similar saying and, while many humans think Caitians like their more primitive Earth cousins are attracted to each other by scent alone that is as untrue as thinking humans choose their spouses by smell like their jungle dwelling simian relatives. We too use sight in choosing a mate, baffling to humans because most Caitians appear to look much alike. I know some will bemoan that fact, saying traits such as intelligence, grace, kindness, etc. should be the criteria used and, they are very important in building and maintaining a relationship. However, like it or not, the first thing you know about a person is what they look like. The fire is burning nicely and I am enjoying its warmth as Jacobs and Selar return from their baths. Now it is my turn to comment on their appearance, not out loud though, that would be inappropriate for a Commanding Officer. I am strangely relieved to see both women are wearing versions of the standard Starfleet Humanoid Female Undergarment. Doctor Selar has on the version that covers from neck to leg while Jacobs has on what I believe is called a "backnknee", a two piece type with one garment to cover the lower body and another to support and cover the glands on the upper chest. Selar is tall like most Vulcans. She is also, as a unmarried human shipmate of mine use to say, "Built like a Brick Cat Box!" or in other words NOT as skinny or bony as the typical Vulcan female. This coupled with the slightly greenish hue of her skin due to her copper based blood makes her a very attractive woman even in my eye. Jacobs is somewhat shorter than Selar and a bit shorter than the average human female. I have found the best Engineers tend to be on the short side. It makes it easier for them to get into and work in the small places where the apparatus is usually found on Starship. She is however well built, rivaling Selar physique. She also displays one of the more baffling human concepts to non-humans, the sub-race. When a Caitian sees a Human, Klingon or even another Caitian, that is what they see. When a Human sees another Human, they use to see, at least, one of five or more sub-races. Jacobs is a prime example of the human sub-race that originated on one of the continents in Earth's southern hemisphere. She shares the classification with my former shipmate Lieutenant Uhura. I believe it was called Negroid. After a few hours, the sun and the fire have completed their job of drying us and our uniforms. We put out the fire, as all good campers do and, make our way back to the Volga. I know if we remain here a while we will have to repeat this activity at some point in the future. I hope we have been rescued before then!

Felines are famous throughout the Galaxy for their tenacity and persistence but even we have limits as a Starfleet Ensign discovered after handing Security-Chief a report on the current Star System they are sniffing. After reading the report, he erupts with a roar worthy of The Great Fanged One himself. Sarah moves to place herself between the petrified human and her brother as she asks, "What is wrong my lord?" "THIS!", he begins, holding the PADD in his claws, "We have been hunting for over fourteen human cycles and nothing!" "A successful hunt often takes a long time.", Sarah comments in a comforting tone as she gives the Ensign a shove backward to a safe distance. "A successful hunt requires prey!", Security-Chief complains, adding, "For all we know they could have been blown to atoms by a Warp Core breach or been pulled into one of these stars and incinerated or their bodies could be lying among the wreckage of the Runabout on some airless moon or planet!

"They are NOT dead!", Sarah declares in a tone that surprises Security-Chief. "And just HOW do you know that?!", Security-Chief questions indignantly. "I have touched both My Lord D'Sefet's and Doctor Selar's minds.", Sarah cautiously explains. "Touched their minds!", Security-Chief roars, "Are you telling me you are taking Sthondat-lymph gland excretion like a Kzinti Telepath?!" "If our fathers had not been so quick to enslave the Kzinrret they might have spared generations of Kzintosh the pain the Telepaths suffer. My power comes naturally." Considering for a moment what his sister says is true, Security-Chief asks, "So then what do your powers tell you, where is D'Sefet-Commander?" "I am not sure. . .", Sarrah begins as she is cut off by Security-Chief's, "Ha!" Continuing, she explains, "My Lord D'Sefet is unaware I have the power to touch his mind so he does not know to help me help him. So far all I have been able to receive from him are images of hunting in woods by the light of two moons. Doctor Selar knows of my abilities, she has been helping me improve them but, she underestimates me and so far all I get from her is concern for her Kit Xyon." "Well then all we will have to do is find a Star System with a Class M planet with two moons then!", Security-Chief declares somewhat happily. Unfortunately his new found glee is short lived as Sarrah explains, "Do not take what My Lord D'Sefet shares with me too literally, as I said, he is unaware I can contact him and what he sends me may not all be based in reality. He has spoken fondly of his memories of hunting at night in the woods on his father's farm on Cait. Helped by the light of that world's two moons. Something he is doing where he is now might have reminded him of those memories and, that is why I have seen what I have. All I can say for sure is he is alive and is not far away." Although skeptical, if Security-Chief has learned one thing on this mission, it is to NOT underestimate his sister's abilities. Calmed, he orders the Bastet on to the next Star System, adding, "Keep me informed as to your VISIONS!"

A certain kind of person joins Starfleet, it makes no difference to what race that person belongs, we all follow the same creed. That mission: "To seek out new life and new civilization and to boldly go where on one has gone before!" Even though ship wrecked, none of us can contain that urge for long. We start out by making short half-day long forays into the surrounding forest in all directions. We found little more than we expected. Then we began extending our trips to first full day and then one and a half days journey from the Volga. It was on one of those missions Selar found it. "What does it say?", Selar questions as she shows us a stone with some ancient markings on it she uncovered. "It's Kzinti!", Jacobs answers, "Something about boundary?" "Northernnn boundary of Hunting Preserve belonging to . . . Name hasss worn away.", I add. "I did not pickup any Kzinti life signs on any of my scans.", Selar reports. "Are we in Kzinti territory?", Jacobs asks, a little worried. "From conditionnn of carvingsss, it hasss been long time sssince Kzinti ssset paw here.", I observe. We decide to make camp near the marker and continue south the next day.

We find little of interest during the morning. After stopping to eat noon meal, we continue. Soon we come to a area where we are getting indications of anomalies in two directions. Because of a strange interference we are experiencing with our equipment there is only one way to thoroughly check out both, we will have to split up. I go one way and Jacobs and Selar go the other. As we part Jacobs says something that will later have me wondering if another of her undocumented skills is as a mystic. "Be careful Sef. There's an old Earth song that goes, "There are beasties in the garden that will never excuse a kitties pardon".", she cautions.

THE SECOND COMING

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!", Big P-All screams at Small J-on. "I was just trying to catch that D-gon that has been getting into our food!", Small J-on defends as he cringes. "WHAT you have done is injure a lord! If he dies his brothers will eat us all!", Big P-All continues, his panic increasing in intensity, "We will just have to offer you to him as a meal if he wakes up and hope he is in a generous mood to the rest of us!" "But!", Small J-On begins, terrified. "Take him away and bind him!", Big P-All orders as he interrupts. As two of the other men take Small J-On away, Big P-All's mind searches for a way to make things ok.

My head and back hurt I think as the mist of unconsciousness begins to lift from my brain. As my head clears I begin to remember, I was exploring with Jacobs and Selar, we split up. . . and. . . What? I can not remember! I spend the next few minutes first making sure I am in relatively good working order, no broken bones I think. As I am doing that, my ears are picking up voices that sound like they are speaking Federation Standard! My hopes that we have been rescued rise but, as I open my eyes I do not see the ceiling of the Bastet's Sick Bay but a thatched roof. As I sit up and my eyes focus I see I am lying on some straw mats on the floor in what appears to be a wooden hut. There is no light source but my eyes can make out a few items, thankfully including my Phaser and Tricorder. I make a move to retrieve them but move too fast, almost falling on my face from dizziness. "I'll get them for you kitty!", a small voice says from the door opening. Looking, I see a little, red furred, human girl move toward my equipment. She scoops up the items and carefully approaches me. "Here you are kitty!", she says, holding out the Phaser and Tricorder. I take them from her and say, "Thank you." As I do, her little face lights up with the biggest smile I have ever seen on a human.

"NO, NO, NO! THE BEAST HAS KT!", a female human standing in the door way screams. Even though my mind still has a fair bit of hazy clouding it, I suspect I am the beast and the little girl is called KT. As she runs from view, I check to make sure my Phaser is set to stun. Shortly, a middle aged, balding, heavyset human male appears in the door way. As I prepare for an attack, I check to see where KT is and hope she is old enough to know to run away if a fight starts but, I know most human kits seem to lack such common instincts. Instead, the man falls to his knees, arms outstretched, head bowed. "Please my lord Kzinti, she is too small to satisfy your hunger! I have readied the one that injured you for your meal.", he says as he motions to the others now gathered. As two of the others drag a bound, younger male human to the door way, I suddenly realize, to my horror, what is going on. When you get down to it, all living things live off other living things. An ancient thinker once commented that if that bothered you, your only choice was to eat rocks! However that was before the Horta were contacted. While I enjoy a juicy slab of muscle torn from some prey animal, the thought of eating another sentient creature is as repugnant to me as it would be to any human. I begin to explain that I am not a Kzinti but, then think better of it. It is likely, because they think I am a Kzinti, is why I am here and alive instead of lying dead in the forest. As long as they keep thinking that I should avoid having to fight my way out of their encampment so, I decide to continue the masquerade. As I try to think how Security-Chief would answer, the bald man, the group's apparent leader continues, "Forgive me lord Kzinti, it is clear you would like to choose your own meal, please come!" He motions for me to exit the hut and I slowly do so. I emerge to find a group of about fifty humans gathered. As my gaze passes, many of them cringe and quickly look to the ground. "Do you see any to your liking my lord Kzinti?", the leader asks. "Not nnnow.", I begin, "First I have questionsss." I see a wave of relief pass through the group as the leader says, "Of course my lord Kzinti, please come this way!" As I try and pickup on what the humans really are thinking of me and envying Doctor Selar's advanced skill at EPS, I feel a tug on my pant leg. Looking down I see KT, holding her arms up to me in what is probably the universal sign a kit wants attention. I hear a few muffled gasps as I stoop down and take her up in my arms. As she lays her head on my shoulder and gently, inquisitively touches my whiskers, at least I know how one feels. I am lead to a large open space near the center of the village. There, shaded by ancient, towering, apparently purposely places trees, three ornate, wooden chairs have been set up on a platform facing a semi-circular group of roughly made benches. I am conducted to the central, largest chair and as I sit, some what painfully due to whatever happened in the forest, the group closes in around. "How may we serve you My lord Kzinti?", the leader asks, anxiety coloring his voice.

Putting together all the data we have discovered on this planet I believe I know most of the answers to my questions but I would like confirmation so I begin. As I surmised, the ancestors of this group of humans were brought here as prey for a high ranking Kzinti. At some point the Kzinti were called away, probably to fight one of the many Man-Kzin wars and never returned. Knowing a little of the ferocity of battles fought by the crews of those ancient space craft, I assume all from or knew anything about this world died together. The group numbers almost 100, and at this time of day, many are out in the fields tending the plants they live on. As we talk, I get the impression the group's leader is puzzled by my lack of knowledge on his people's situation and, as he finishes answering my questions he adds, "Our fathers said the Kzinti lords would one day return to hunt and care for us." Before I can comment, there is an unseen commotion at the rear of the group. As it separates Selar and Jacobs rush up, Phasers drawn. "We feared you were in trouble Commander. We found some sort of animal trap with your blood on it a short distance from here.", Selar states looking around in amazement. "And signs that a heavy object like a body had been dragged away. I guess we were wrong eh?", Jacobs adds also staring in amazement at the assembly, adding, "Sorry it took so long to get here, that interference to our long range Tricorder readings and communications seems worse here." As Selar begins to scan me with her Tricorder, KT, asleep in my arms, wakes up and becomes frightened at all the things going on so I put her down and she disappears into the multitude. The group watches in amazement as Selar examines me and pronounces, "I believe you live Commander.", as she treats the major cut on my head. The group watches in awe as all traces of the wound disappear right before their eyes. "My lord. . .", the bald human begins, "Our fathers told us much about the Kzinti but. . . Forgive me. . . They always said you had little faith in females, Kzinti or human." I figure the time has come to set him straight but before I can, a blood chilling scream splits the air. We all hurry toward the apparent source of the sound in a near by field. Arriving we find a relatively young male in the jaws of a large, four legged reptile. As Jacobs impulsively moves to attempt a rescue of the male, I change the setting on my Phaser and look for a clear shot. "Careful My lord!", the bald human calls. Pelting the creature with a few large stones, Jacobs manages to get the animal to drop the male human but it now goes after her. As it is about to strike, I fire. My Phaser, now set to kill, stops the beast in mid-leap. I move to make sure Jacobs is unhurt as Selar hurries to help the male human. Jacobs and I then go and see if we can assist Selar. As we arrive, Selar is examining the male and comments, "I do not understand it, his injuries are not that sever but he is dying!" All of a sudden the male gasps and stops moving. "He has stopped breathing!", Selar yells. Jacobs falls to her knees and begins blowing air into the male's mouth as Selar starts old style manual CPR. I take over the CPR so Selar can continue her examination. "The D-gon bite is poisonous!", the leader informs, "I tried to warn you My lord." Hearing this, Selar changes the focus of her exam and, after a few seconds gives the human an injection. The leader seems to understand what Selar is doing and says, "It is hopeless, no one has ever lived after an D-gon bite!" No sooner are the words out of his mouth than the male convulses and begins to breath on his own again. Not a moment to soon for both Jacobs and I! The entire group takes a big step backwards and begins to murmur at the sight. "He needs to rest now.", Selar says. "You two!", he leader says pointing to two other young males, "Carry D-On to his hut. M-Airy go tend to your husband!" As the males lift D-On and head for his hut, Selar calls after them, "I will check on him in a few minutes." "Ugly beast eh?!", Jacobs says, examining the creature. "Ugly but, if one can kill it without it killing you, good eating. With your permission My lord.", the leader answers. "Uh. . . Yesss. . . Of course.", I answer getting his meaning. The leader points to a group of women and they leave, to get implements to butcher the animal I assume. "Commander, the level of anxiety has and is rising markedly among this group!", Selar reports. I notice that the leader has joined Jacobs in examining the D-gon. All of a sudden Jacobs emits the loudest sound I have ever heard her make. So startling is it that I find myself instinctively reaching for my Phaser before I realize that strange sound is that of human laughter. For some reason her laughter is flustering the leader so I hurry to where the two are standing. "Forgive me My lord!", the leader hurriedly begs, "I meant no disrespect!" Jacobs is able to curtail her amusement long enough to explain, "He thinks you're a Kzinti!" As Selar joins us, a calming Jacobs continues her explanation, "I'm sorry Sef but, he hit me with that question, "What kind of Kzinti are you?" out of the blue and comparing you to that walking orange fur ball Security-Chief just struck me as hilarious. I guess I let the cat out of the bag eh?" "My lord? I don't understand!", the leader says, anxiety showing in his voice. NOW the time has come for explanations. I am thankful we are out of the confines of the village as I begin, "Uh. . . " Realizing he has yet to formally introduce himself to me, the leader answers, :I'm sorry My lord, I'm Big P-All." "I am Comanderrr D'Sefet of United Federationnn of Planetsss and, these are membersss of my ssstaff, Lieutenant Commanderrr Jacobsss, my Chief Engineerrr and Doctorrr Selarrr, my Chief Medical Officerrr.", I begin, "And no I am NOT Kzinti, I am Caitiannn." Big P-All looks as if I had just informed him I was the Great Fanged One himself as he repeats, "United Federation of. . .", and then, "EARTH!? Is Earth. . ." "Not much different than when your fathers left it.", Jacobs answers. All of a sudden I hear from others in the remaining group, "Their from Earth!" "The Kzinti?", Big P-All begins. Anticipating his question Jacobs answers, "Lost the wars and retreated to their home star system centuries ago." From the group I now hear, "The Kzinti are gone, defeated!" I can also see Selar's growing concern so I suggest, "P-All, it might be better if we answer your questions where and when all can hear." Like a wise leader, Big P-All sees the wisdom in my suggestion and commands to the group, "Lord Commander D'Sefet is right! He has provided us with the makings of a feast and afterward he will provide us with answers to our questions! Come now!" As we are escorted back to the village, I quietly order Jacobs and Selar to keep their noses open.

Due to the panic I still cause even though word spread quickly that I was NOT a Kzinti, I decided to remain out of sight and let Jacobs and Selar prowl among the humans. Shortly before the feast is to begin, Jacobs, Selar and I meet in the hut where I first found myself. I can see Selar has something on her mind so I ask, "What is bothering you Doctorrr?", then remembering the incident in the field, "Isss human injured by lizard ok?" "He is fine Commander, My concern is our presence here.", she answers. I do not understand and question, "Our presence Doctorrr?" "Yes, specifically tonight's question and answer session. What about the Prime Directive?", Selar questions. "I sssmell no conflict in what we are doing and Prime Directive Doctorrr.", I respond, "Besidesss, my understanding of Prime Directive refersss to independent culturesss and not to what are essentially prey animalsss on hunting preserve!" "Sef! You're referring to humans!", Jacobs interrupts. "Yesss, humansss that until few hoursss ago were happily offering themselvesss to me asss sssnacks!", I answer, "Besidesss, whetherrr we are in Federation or Kzinti ssspace, when we are rescued, we can not just leave these humansss here to fend forrr themselvesss! Yourrr rrrace seemsss to have problemsss doing that." Jacobs begins to answer me but Selar interrupts, "Logical Commander but, I urge caution in how much information we give them." Remembering something I learned about ancient Earth, I assure, "I will endeavorrr to emulate Sphinx doctorrr." From Jacobs reaction I see I did not understand the lesson as well as I thought but before she can correct me, Big P-All arrives to conduct us to the feast.

The feast is quite remarkable considering the environment it was prepared in. And YES the D-gon DID taste like Ma! After introducing Jacobs, Selar and me to all, it got underway. I think I finally dispelled any lingering fears in the group about me being a Kzinti when I took servings of both fruit and vegetables to go with my meat. I assume the group still remembered enough about the Kzinti to know how much disdain a 'Grass Eater' is held in. I was pleased and the group amazed to see D-On had recovered from his fight with the D-gon enough to attend the feast. Unfortunately a off paw remark he made about how, under other circumstances this could have just as easily have been his Wake, upset his mate so much that she hurried from the gathering in tears and he had to run after her. My little friend KT attended and in typical kit style, set up a squall to sit next to 'her kitty'. In the interest of peace and digestion, her want was granted. I placed her between Selar and I so Selar could use her expertise with kits if needed.

Finally the meal is over and it is time for questions. It amazes me how, in just the short time the group has known about us, how many rumors have been born. Although the group knows I am NOT a Kzinti, they are not sure what a Caitian is. The most outrageous rumor that I heard about that is that the Kzinti found a way to mate with humans and I am the result! I am not sure whether to be insulted or flattered by that one. They are apparently pleased to hear Earth still exists but are having a hard time understanding the concept of the Federation and, understandably, for people that have lived with tales of war all their lives, fear the Earth was invaded by another race. After Big P-All reintroduce us, I stand and doing my best to remember my diplomatic training, address the group as an ambassador of the Federation, "Humansss, allow me to ssspeak forrr all racesss that make up United Federation of Planetsss in sssaying how pleased we are that group of ourrr lost brothersss have been found." I hear Jacobs mumble something about apparel called hip boots under her breath as I continue, "And even though, when ourrr vessel landed on thisss planet we were not expecting sssuch blessing, we thank Great Fanged One forrr guiding usss to you." I am unprepared for the excitement my comment about our Runabout launches. "You have a ship!" and, "Can we all fit in it?" are a few of the comments I hear from the crowd before a young male's voice is heard above the rest asking, "How long have you been here Commander?" "We crash landed about twenty one daysss ago I believe.", I answer. "Twenty one days, one hour, six minutes and ten seconds ago to be exact.", Selar adds. "Where did you land?", the male continues. "A few daysss journey to nnnorth.", I answer, not wanting to get too exact. "I TOLD YOU!", the male excitedly declares, "That day a few weeks ago, I DID SEE a UFO!" "Maybe you could use the things at the Main Kzinti Lodge to repair your vessel Commander D'Sefet.", a man says. "Are you on about that again Old M-Ike!", another yells. "My father told me about all the wonders he saw when he journeyed as a young man to find the lords!", the one called Old M-Ike defends. I begin to explain that our ships are much too much different from the Kzinti to be able to use ancient Kzinti technology but Jacobs interrupts, "Just how far away is the Lodge?" In the time I have commanded Jacobs, I have learned that just like another Starfleet Engineer I once served with, she is a "miracle worker" and like his commanding officer, when my engineer has something in mind, I will be much happier if I support her. Old M-Ike informs us that his father said the Lodge was at least two days journey to the south. "You rememberrr Kzinti habit of burning down theirrr Lodgesss when no longerrr used. Even if it ssstill standsss, anything left there will be centuriesss old!", I caution before inquiring, "What is on yourrr mind?"

I am always amazed at the things a Starfleet engineer will come up with and as the human group listens in wonder, Jacobs explains, "If we could get the Volga's SubSpace Transmitter into orbit above whatever is causing all this interference with our equipment, I bet we could send a hearable SOS to the station." "Logical.", Selar begins, adding, "With only two major problems Commander, the Volga is not capable of getting it there and there is no power for the Transporter to beam it there." "I think I can build a rocket to get it there.", is Jacobs' improbable answer. She goes on to proudly explain that one of her ancestors was on the team that sent the first commercial space craft into space from the western coast of North America on Earth. While Jacobs' plan is workable, it leaves me with a major problem. Although these humans seem harmless enough, I am NOT about to let one of my female officers head out into the wilderness alone with them. If Old M-Ike remember correctly just getting to the Lodge and back to here will require four days, not to mention the time it will take to explore any buildings that might remain standing. Of course one solution would be for both Selar and I to go along and there the problem begins. If perchance the Bastet does happen upon this planet, they will probably easily locate the wreck of the Volga, finding us through this interference might not be so easy! The further away from the Volga we are, the bigger the problem. While I am not worried about someone or thing doing something to the Runabout, someone will have to return to the Volga soon. Of course, the only 'logical' solution is to send Selar back to the Volga on her own and that is what I reluctantly order.

The next morning Selar leaves for the Runabout. Before she goes, remembering the D-gon, she makes sure we are well informed on the use of the anti-venom. While few of Old M-Ike's companions believed his stories, I am surprised how many want to make the journey with us. I am NOT crazy about leading a group of twenty or more humans through uncharted wilderness and, fortunately Big P-All is equally unhappy about having his people leaving their crops unattended so he and I are able to keep this 'Away Team' down to just four. Old M-Ike, his grandson, Young M-Ike, Jacobs and I leave for the Lodge the morning after Selar's departure.

"Personal Log, day 23 of crash. . .", I begin as the first day of our journey comes to a close. "What?! Is there something I can do for you Commander D'Sefet?", Young M-Ike, hearing me asks. "Quiet boy!", Old M-Ike answers, "He's recording his log, just like your Grandfather said his Grandfather, a spaceship Captain did every night. Go on Commander D'Sefet." "Thank you Old M-Ike.", I say, continuing, "Ourrr first day of travel to Kzinti Lodge hasss come to an end. By my calculationsss we walked about twenty milesss. Considering terain and fact that to travel light we took little in way of provisionsss and had to gatherrr food as we went, I would sssay we did well. Ourrr pace isss little slowerrr than Old Mmm-Ike expected and he has rrrevised hisss time to Lodge. It now appears it will take at least half day more. Howeverrr that ssshould not be problem. Because woodsss are home to D-gonsss and they hunt both day and night, we are sssleeping high in trees aided by an ingeniousss device humansss call Tree or Branch Bed. It consistsss of heavy woven harnesss and ropesss that securesss sssleeping wearerrr to branch. I am sssurprised at how comfortable and sssafe it feels hanging almost thirty feet in airrr from thisss tree." I conclude by saying, "All Away Team membersss are in good condition." "Thank God for that!", I hear Old M-Ike say as I put away my Tricorder and settle in for the night.

The next morning Jacobs and Young M-Ike get around early and by the time Old M-Ike and I are up, have a Breakfast of those fat eel like fish like she had caught in the lake near the Volga, prepared. We quickly eat and begin our day's walk. The morning goes by quickly and thankfully uneventfully. We stop for a quick lunch of some plants gathered during the morning and then start off again. Most of the afternoon has past and I am beginning to think about finding a tree for the night when something on the wind stops me. Jacobs notices my actions and asks, "What is it Sef?" "I am not sssure, ssscent, sssomething familiarrr about it.", I answer as I turn my face to the light breeze to see if I can catch another whiff. "I don't smell anything!", Young M-Ike says, wanting to continue walking. "When a cat says he smells something BELIEVE him boy!", Old M-Ike scolds, adding, "It could save your hide!" Another breath of wind from the same direction brings a new sample of the scent and finally my brain makes a tentative although hard to believe connection. "Klingonsss!", I say out loud. "KLINGONS!", Jacobs parrots, "Here?! Impossible!" "There isss sssomething ssstrange about it but sssmell isss defiantly Klingon!", I reply. "Where?", Jacobs asks. "Thisss way.", I say as I begin to follow the scent. As the others follow, Old M-Ike nervously asks, "These Klingons, friends?" "Sometimes", Jacobs answers as she draws her Phaser.

There WERE Klingons, 'were' being the operative word. "A old ssstyle Bird of Prey", I say as my eyes strain to make out the dark shape among the trees. As we draw nearer I see why the scent had a strange component. "She's been here a LONG time!", Jacobs comments, "Looks like she hit softly enough eh?" "Not sssoftly enough!", I observe, "Look at angle of nose, ssshe broke herrr back!" "Do you think there were survivors Commander D'Sefet?", Old M-Ike asks. Looking over the wreck I answer, "Klingonsss are tough but not indestructible." "I found the hatch Sef.", Jacobs calls, "It's closed!" "Wai. . .", I begin as Jacobs operates the hatch's Manual Operating Mechanism. As it pops opens our noses are invaded by a stench so strong, much stronger than the usual Klingon smell, it would, as Jacobs would comment later, "Coax a Canine off a wagon loaded with entrails!" or something like that. Because Caitians' sense of smell is so acute, our brains have a process to filter or at least tone down overwhelming scents. Much in the way the Vulcan's inner eyelid protects from the brightness of the Vulcan sun. Unfortunately my human companions do not and all become immediately, violently ill. I have to move quickly to keep Jacobs from falling backwards off the Bird of Prey's superstructure. It takes the better part of two hours before the smell dissipates enough to allow an inspection of the Bird of Prey's interior.

It is difficult even for me to see much detail of the interior of the vessel with the emergency lights Jacobs and I are carrying, there is no power to any of the Bird of Prey's systems. I can make out the decaying remains of the Bridge Crew and Vessel Commander still at their stations. It would appear they died in the crash. "Here Sef!, give me a hand!", Jacobs calls. I join her in an attempt to force open the hatch that leads to the rest of the ship. It is difficult but using some wreckage lying nearby to pry with, we are finally able to get it open enough for her to squeeze through. As she moves off into the darkness, I remain on the Bridge and take some readings to determine the condition of the equipment on board. I am, in reality, well over one hundred years old, a seasoned Starfleet Officer, and, a Caitian. I have fought the Borg, and continue to "Boldly Go Where No One Has Gone Before" yet, I am surprised how much frightened kitten still resides inside. I am reminded of the quantity of 'kitten' when startled by the unexpected groan of the vessel's hull and Jacobs getting the lights to suddenly come on, my claws involuntarily send the rotting skull of the nearest Klingon flying across the room. By the time Jacobs returns to the Bridge, I have almost recovered my composure. "Engineering is a mess and the Warp Drive is garbage but Emergency Power is still working.", she says, then noticing the newly beheaded Klingon asks, "Everything ok Sef?" "Yesss, fine.", I answer as I hurry to the Command Chair to see if I can replay the Captain's Logs and find out what happened and how long this vessel has been here, "Why do you ask?" "No reason.", she replies as she nudges the skull with the toe of her boot. My Klingon is a bit rusty but with Jacobs assistance, we are able to glean the following information. The vessel's name is Klatow and it crashed over eighty years ago. The logs probably also told why the ship was here and what happened to bring it to the end we see but, our Klingon was not that good. Recalling our mission here I ask, "Did you find anything you could use in getting Transmitterrr into orbit?" "Maybe but, I still want to see what might be at the Lodge.", she answers, adding, "Speaking of which, we'd better rejoin our guides, before they begin thinking we have been swallowed by the metal monster." As she begins to climb the ladder to the outside, she turns and says, "You coming?" Remembering her concern over Commander Thomas I ask, "Do you wish to dig gravesss while I get crew rrready to bury?" "Bury! Sef they're Klingons!", Jacobs answers, adding, "Besides in their condition it would take hours to get them all ready!" Although I know she is right, I cannot resists taking this opportunity to call to her attention a slight contradiction in her philosophy, "They deserve sssame rightsss we gave Commanderrr Thomasss, do they not?" "Well yes but. . . I mean they're. . .", she sputters then, in a fit of logic adds, "We'll need to keep everything as much the same as we found it for when an official investigation of the crash is mounted." As I follow her up the ladder, I marvel at the human's skill for moral contortionism.

Our guides are indeed getting anxious in our absence but, in a short while we are back on the move and cautiously walking a while by the light of the planet's moons, we have made up most of the time we lost investigating the Klingon ship. Like the night before we find a tall, strong tree and settle in.

Since we got started today, Old M-Ike has been looking for a large rock outcropping by the side of the trail where it was told the Kzinti posted guards. The Lodge, it is said, is not very far from it. Noon comes and goes with no sighting of the rocks. The afternoon slips by and still no sighting. As darkness approaches I am beginning to wonder if this was, as the Humans say, "A lame duck chase". Then, partly shrouded in overgrowth, there it is! Complete with Kzinti symbols carved into the smooth side facing the trail. A little further down the trail, a gatehouse and closed metal gate in an impressively tall stone wall. It does not take us long to find out time and nature have sealed the gate forever but fortunately, for Old M-Ike and I, we will not have to climb the wall. The same nature that has barred our way through the gate has created a new opening by Planet Quake not to far down along the wall. In the fading light we get our first glimpse of what is behind the wall and, is becomes clear this was more than just a simple Hunting Lodge. There are a number of buildings or their remains in the compound. Everything is dominated by a large, two level building that even after all these years can still only be described as a palace. As we step in, I order, "Everyone ssstay togetherrr! There might be what you humansss call 'Titty Catchersss' ssstill active!" "Booby Traps Sef!", Jacobs corrects with a sigh, adding with a nod toward the collapsed wall, "Or more quake damage! Where do you want to check first?" The sun has disappeared from the sky so I suggest, "We had betterrr find sssomewhere sssecure to ssspend night." There is a row buildings, smaller but similarly grand in appearance to the main house, located a short distance behind it. They look interesting so I suggest, pointing, "Let us try those" The first building in the row is damaged, looking in, it becomes clear by the remains of human design furnishing that these were human slave quarters. The second building is also unlivable but the third, about twice as big as the first two is intact and, there we settle for the night.

In the morning, after a breakfast of what food left in our packs, we begin to explore the compound. In the full light of day, the 'lodge' that appeared impressive last night now appears aw inspiring! On their home world, Kzinti architectural design was dictated by the violence in the society. To protect themselves from rivals and assassins, the Kzintosh built dwellings that could only be called castles. Stone or log houses with a minimum of openings, a door that required the visitor to stoop low to enter, surrounded by high stone or log walls with metal or heavy wood gates were the norm. When they began colonizing other worlds, because they usually did with only trusted associates, their fears subsided, some. Out of this new security a new style of building emerged. Built entirely of wood, the style of these buildings with their encompassing porch or walk and roofs supported by graceful columns was called Kzinti Colonial. This building is the finest example of the style I have ever seen. As my 'Away Team' carefully enter and explore each building, I am getting an idea of what went on here. This was more that just a Hunting Preserve, this was a Military Base! A fact confirmed when we find the remains of Jotoki in the ruins of a small vessel hanger. The noon time meal is approaching so Old and Young M-Ike and I leave Jacobs to look through the building's contents for material for her rocket and go into the forest outside the wall to hunt for food. By the time we return, Jacobs has a surprise waiting.

Well, whada you think, eh?", She asks excitedly, stepping out from behind a battered piece of rusty machinery. "What is it Commander D'Sefet?", Old M-Ike asks worriedly. "It isss sssmall Kzinti Hoverrr Transport.", I reply in amazement. "A six seater!", Jacobs adds with excitement, "I never thought I would see one of these outside a museum!" Owing to its appearance, I ask the obvious question, "Is it operational?" "Watch!", she answers, jumping into the Operator's seat. The humans and I watch, the humans in awe, as the craft with its anti-gravity units, gracefully rises high in the air and travels forward out of sight. After a few moments, it reappears in the opposite direction and lands as gracefully as it took off. Smiling from ear to ear, Jacobs jumps out and pronounces, "No more slogging through the forest for me! With this we can be back in the village in minutes and, with any equipment we need too!" Remembering why we are here in the first place I ask, "Otherrr than thisss, did you find anything to use in yourrr rrrocket?" "Yes and, with a few things I saw on that Klingon wreck and a few items from the Volga, I think I have everything I need.", Jacobs informs adding, "If you can give me a hand, I'll be ready to leave in a hour or so."

Even WITH my help, the hour was a bit more SO than only a hour and the sun is dipping very low in the sky by the time we finish loading the equipment Jacobs needs into the Hover Transport. While we were busy, Old and Young M-Ike, not understanding what we were doing had occupied themselves with other things and, seeing that Jacobs and I were finished they again join us. "We made some improvements to where we slept Commander D'Sefet.", Old M-Ike says, "It should be more comfortable tonight." "We don't need to stay here tonight!", Jacobs answers, "With the scanners on the Hover Transport, we safely navigate the terrain and find the village even in the dark" I know she is correct but, the last thing I want to do is drop out of a dark sky unannounced in front of a band of primitive humans so I counter, "What isss rrrush? Morning will be sssoon enough. Besidesss, these two might want tooo dooo sssome sssightseeing." I note that my last remark stuns the humans. Considering two of my 'Away Team' have never known any form of locomotion other than their feet and remembering how unnatural forms of transportation can effect some creatures, just after we all have settled for the night I order, "It will not be necessary tooo get food in morning." Young M-Ike, knowing we used the last of out food at the evening meal asks, "Why not Commander D'Sefet?" "Because Commander D'Sefet has ordered IT boy!", Old M-Ike answers, adding, "AND when your commanding officer give an order you don't ask why, you just follow it!" I see Young M-Ike is hurt by his Grandfather's scolding and I do not mind explaining, "If we get an early enough ssstart, we will be back in village before breakfast isss overrr there Young Mmm-Ike." "Just how fast does that machine go?", Old M-Ike asks in amazement. Knowing about how far the village is from us and guessing at the Hover Transport cruising speed, I answer, "If we were in hurry we could get tooo village in about half of an hourrr orrr ssso." "Try half that!", Jacobs adds. "But we will take it slowerrr tomorrow.", I assure. All fall silent except for a long low whistle that comes from Old M-Ike.

The morning dawns bright and glorious, warm, no wind, and not a cloud in the sky. I estimate that once air bourne above the forest, we will be able to see for kilometers. While Jacobs checks to be sure her cargo is secure, I make sure the rest of our 'Away Team' are well strapped in. I then take the seat behind the Operator's Seat. Jacobs jumps into it and with a large human grin asks, "Everyone ready?" Not waiting for an answer, she flips an old style switch and we begin to rise in the air. "Next stop, the Klingon wreck!", she declares. Not wanting to stress our passengers to much I say, "Why do we not take Old and Young M-Ike, SLOWLY tooo village first. We can off load thisss equipment and rrreturn tooo wreck laterrr." "You're the boss Sef! To the Village!", she says as we begin to move.

I was correct, visibility is unlimited! Old M-Ike is like a kit on a pleasure planet ride, excitedly, talking and, pointing out landmarks and points of interest he recognizes. His Grandson, on the other paw, seems terrified, facing forward, unmoving, not making a sound even when his Grandfather addresses him. After about 10 minutes, Old M-Ike begs, "Commander D'Sefet! You said this contraption could go a lot faster. Do you think we could fire her up a little?" As usual, I am not sure exactly what he means, I know the Transport has no weapons to fire but, Jacobs seems to understand and asks, "What about it Sef? I have a fix on the village. I can have us there in no time." Up to this point none of our passengers has displayed any signs that this mode of transportation has had any ill effect on them and if the truth be told, I too was tiring of our slow pace so, "Very well but, NOT tooo fffast!" Jacobs nods and all our heads snap back as she operates the Transport's accelerator. As the tree canopy below us becomes a blur and the wind pushes at our bodies I look to see Old M-Ike frozen in his seat, his eyes wide with either terror or excitement. It is the shape of his mouth that tells me which. For it is frozen in a massive, ear to ear grin! Jacobs was correct, in 'no time' the human's crop fields appear beneath us and she begins to slow our pace. We circle the village once and land near the spot were Jacobs chose to set up her 'rocket factory'. ALL the humans that witnessed our fly over come running. As Jacobs releases Young M-Ike, I do the same for Old M-Ike. Once free, Young M-Ike hurriedly exits the Transport and disappears into the crowd. Unbelted I expect Old M-Ike to do the same but he remains seated. Seeing this, Big P-All joins me beside Old M-Ike and asks, "Are you ok? Can you move?" Big P-All motions for a couple of the other men to come and help. As they arrive, Old M-Ike slowly turns his head toward Big P-All and softly says, "Glorious! Great Great Grandfather wasn't crazy! Cats CAN fly like birds!" That said Old M-Ike rises and is helped out of the Transport and to his hut by the two other men leaving Big P-All and any of the others that heard him slowly shaking their heads.

Jacobs and I returned to the Klingon vessel and spent the rest of the morning and all the afternoon carefully removing the equipment she thought she could make use of. We then planed to make a trip to the Volga the next morning to check on Selar and get the final parts for Jacobs' project. When Big P-All and Old M-Ike found that out they requested that they be allowed to come along. I understood why Old M-Ike made the request, he had fast become quite the aficionado of the Hover Transport. Even persuading Jacobs to take him for a ride after the evening meal. Of course Jacobs was only to happy to accommodate, being an aficionado herself. I was somewhat puzzled at Big P-All's request but I thought he should at least have a look at the future he and his people would soon be facing. Next morning, we loaded some provisions for Selar, strapped our passengers in and headed north to the Volga.

As usual, Selar registered her surprise at our unexpected visit with only a raised eyebrow and the comment, "I see Commander Jacobs has found a new toy." "And isn't she a beauty eh!", Jacobs answers. While Jacobs gets busy removing the equipment she needs from the Volga, I give Old M-Ike and Big P-All a tour of her. Both humans had listened intently to the stories that had been told and retold about the vessels their ancestors had flown and fought in but, the Volga, even in the shape she is in, far surpassed what their imagination could have ever dreamed of. After the tour, we join Selar on an expedition to gather food. Both humans pointed out to Selar a few new plants that were edible. By the time we returned to the Volga, Selar's food stash was full and, Jacobs had what she was going to take back to the village loaded into the Transport. On the way back, Old M-Ike was as always excitedly chattering away however Big P-All seemed deep in thought. It was after the evening meal that I found out those thoughts. "Commander D'Sefet, may I speak with you?", Big P-All asks as he pokes his head into the hut that I and Jacobs are using to sleep in. "I'll get some air.", Jacobs says looking up from the PADD she is using to work out the finer details of her rocket project on. Big P-All assures her that he would like her to stay. After we have all made ourselves comfortable, he begins, "I wish to thank you for your kindness in showing me your ship and, I wish for you all the success you need to contact your base but. . . I was wondering what is going to happen to my people when your Federation comes." "That will depend on yourrr wishesss and just where thisss planet isss now located.", I explain. I go on to try and explain the Prime Directive and how, if we are now in Federation territory, Big P-All and his people will be free to choose what if any contact they will with us. I continue to explain that if we are in Kzinti territory I would expect that the Kzinti would want this group of humans removed from their planet and then the Federation would do it's best to accommodate the wishes of this group. I finish by saying that the crash of the Volga and the Klingon Bird of Prey will have to be investigated and the vessels possibly salvaged and Federation historians will want to study the Kzinti artifacts but that if desired, these activities would be carried out with minimal contact with Big P-All's people. Jacobs sums it all up by saying, "In short, your future is up to you!" Big P-All smiles and nods and after thanking us, bid us goodnight. As I am stretching out Jacobs asks, "What future do you think they will choose Sef?" "I neverrr try and predict what humansss will do, asss Doctorrr Selarrr saysss, "They are SO Illogical!"", I answer. I expect a rebuttal from her but all she says is, "Good night Sef." I wish her the same and close my eyes. Leaving her to do a little more design work.

Over the next few days, Jacobs' rocket begins to take shape. I try and assist but she complains my tail is always in her way, although I have never had any problems with it. SO, I like a growing number of villagers just stand and watch.

The day has come to launch Jacobs' rocket. It is a perfect day for a launch but, I can not help feeling that something does not seem right. Jacobs and I are joined by many humans as we make our way out to the clearing where the makeshift launching pad and rocket stand. As final preparations are made, I fail to take note that many of the humans are better armed than usual. Suddenly Big P-All and Old M-Ike come rushing up. "Commander D'Sefet!, I have just been told. . .", Big P-All begins before being silenced with a blow to the back delivered by a young human male with a stick. I quickly draw my Phaser and try and put myself between the bulk of the humans and Jacobs who, busy with the launch, has yet to realize we are in trouble. "You can't do this!", Old M-Ike, tending to Big P-All yells. "We will NOT let them enslave and hunt us again!", Young M-Ike declares as he steps to the front of the group. As a number of the group murmur in agreement, I try to defuse the situation by explaining, "Federation hasss no intention of enslaving you! All we want, isss to do what isss in yourrr best interestsss!" "That's right!", Jacobs affirms, adding, not remembering these humans were isolated from Earth long before it was enacted, "The Prime Directive demands that!" "It was the Kzinti that did those things to our fathers", Big P-All adds as he is helped to his feet by Old M-Ike. "He uses Kzinti machines, he read Kzinti scratchings!", one of the other humans counter. "He's NOT a Kzinti!", Old M-Ike screams. "NO but I AM!", roars a familiar voice from close behind the mob. As the startled and now terrified rabble melt away, Security-Chief, at the head of a heavily armed Away Team strides forward. Seizing a hefty club from one of the young humans and snapping it like a twig he continues, "I trust there is no problem here D'Sefet-Commander." Old M-Ike jabs his grandson in the ribs and says in earnest, "NOW THAT'S A KZINTI, boy!" Forgetting that two near by have better than human hearing, Jacobs say, under her breath, "I have never been so happy to see that walking, orange hairball." Hearing her I ready myself to prevent the expected fight between her and Security-Chief but to both our surprise he answers, sincerely, "It is strangely pleasing for me to see you as well Jacobs-Lieutenant Commander."

Soon order is restored and as Selar tends to Big P-All, I notice Jacobs looking a bit dejected. As a good commanding officer should do, I ask, "What isss problem?" "All that work for nothing!", she answers with disgust, indicating her rocket, "Now we'll never know if it would have worked!" One trait I DO share with felines that humans are familiar with is INTENSE curiosity. I understand all to well what Jacobs is feeling, SO. . . "D'Sefet to Bastet.", I begin. "Bastet here! It's good to hear your voice Commander.", the Opps Officer responds. "We are preparing to launch rrrocket from thisss location, please monitorrr vessel'sss flight.", I order as Jacobs stares at me unbelievingly. She understands I am serious when I, in a loud voice, command, "Everyone, we are rrready forrr launch! Please follow Commanderrr Jacobsss and I to sssafe distance!" All that are still around quickly respond and when I am sure everyone and everything is safe, I turn to Jacobs and say, "Commanderrr, wheneverrr you are rrready!" With a gigantic grin on her face, Jacobs begins the traditional countdown and reaching zero, pushes the Launch Button. Two Chemical Booster assemblies, salvaged from the Klingon wreck roar to life and the rocket begins to move. The vessel, clad in the bright crimson colored hull plates of a Klingon Photon Torpedo majestically leaves the ground and climbs into the bright azure sky. All present follow it's ascension with their heads, the humans from the village with their mouths a gape. At a prearranged height above the surface, the Volga's Impulse Engine fires and the spacecraft almost instantaneously disappears from sight. "Bastet to D'Sefet. We've monitored the rocket's launch and insertion into low planetary orbit." "Good, inform FI-9 to ssstandby forrr test transmission from vehicle'sss SubSpace Transmitterrr.", I reply. That being said, Jacobs activates the Transmitter and keys in a message. A short time later, "Bastet to D'Sefet. FI-9 acknowledges reception of your transmission and adds, 'HER' Space Station has been well taken care of in her absence!" "Very well Bastet.", I say, adding, "Afterrr Commanderrr Jacobsss shutsss down vessel, lock onto it and beam it aboard. D'Sefet out!" "Understood Commander, Bastet out!", the Opps Officer replies. I start to ask if she is happy now but the big hug she gives me answers that.

"Final Report on itemsss in Personal Logsss rrrecorded afterrr crash of Volga.", I begin, as I relax in my quarters back on FI-9 a few nights later, "Using facilitiesss on Bastet, it wasss determined planetary system we crashed in isss now within Federation boundaries but, just barely. I informed Big P-All of this and afterrr long and arduousss meeting, Big P-All informed me that hisss people would like to be rrrelocated. I have passed matter along to Federrration'sss Colonial Affairsss Department forrr action.

Volga hasss been determined tooo be salvageable. Because of death of Commanderrr Thomasss, Starfleet isss sssending an investigative team tooo ssstudy wreck and determine what exactly happened. When they arrive Commanderrr Jacobsss will accompany them back tooo crash sssite and when they are done, She will get Volga back to FI-9 forrr repairsss.

Klingonsss were not interested in sssalvaging an eighty plusss yearrr old Bird of Prey orrr bringing herrr crew back tooo home world. All they want isss data from vessel'sss Memory Core. When Federation team finishesss with Volga they will rrretrieve data and sssend it on tooo Klingonsss. I expect they will also bury crew and make sssure Bird of Prey isss sssafe tooo leave behind.

A joint Federation/Kzinti archeological team isss being formed tooo ssstudy planet'sss Kzinti ruinsss and make recommendationss on what tooo dooo with them. I sssuspect Kzinti will be interested in preventing ssstudy from opening any old Man-Kzinti Warrr woundsss asss well.

I wasss pleased tooo find Sarrah had accompanied Bastet onnn herrr hunt forrr usss. From reportsss I have rrread from Bastet's crew, it appearsss Sarrrah wasss very valuable tooo mission. Even Security-Chief'sss report grudging acknowledgesss herrr contributionsss." Although I doubt Sarrah could have heard me, but as I finish recording the report, she emerges from the other room and twitches her ears (the Kzinti's way of smiling) at me. Then she joins me on the couch for a little quiet time.

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