Captain’s Log:
Routine patrol along Kzinti/Federation Frontier. Commander D’Sefet Commanding U.S.S. Bastet NCC-61456.
It has been another non-eventful patrol for us, and while that is NOT a bad thing, I DO remember, one of the reasons most people, me included joined Starfleet was adventure. I have nothing unusual to report. There has been no contact with other vessels, Federation or otherwise, no discovery of uncharted star systems, black holes or even a stray asteroid.
Con reports we have reached the limits of our patrol area so, “Verrry well! Prepare to commme about! Time to go hommme!”
With luck I think we will be home in time for Sarrah and I to have Late-Meal (dinner) together. We have not had many chances recently, she has been working long, hard hours preparing to take the Federation Tests that will allow her to call herself a doctor. Everyone on FI-9 is proud of her, even her brother, Security-Chief.
Helm reports, “Course plotted and laid in Commander.”
“Good Do i . . .”, I begin and am interrupted by.
“Sensors are picking up a vessel ahead Commander.”, the crewman catting the Science Station reports, “She appears to be dead in space and drifting.”
“Red Alert! Shieldsss up, arm weaponsss!”, I command, “Scan forrr otherrr vessels!”
We approach cautiously, the crewman at the Science Station reporting, “Power output . . . Zero, life signs . . . Negative. No other vessels in our vicinity Commander.”
“Go to Yellow Alert!”, I command. We are still a ways off and all on the Bridge are straining to see the vessel. “Maximum magnification on Viewerrr.”, I order.
As the image enlarges, a few things become clear. First the vessel is NOT of Federation, Klingon or Romulan design. Further more it has been “DEAD” for a long time as evidenced by a cluster of Gas Exhaust Cones mounted on the stern. There is a massive hole in the port side, a mid ships. I am looking to see if I can make out any United Earth markings when I hear the Bridge Doors open and
Security-Chief say, “It IS the CLAW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We need to leave here immediately Commander! ANYONE seeing the CLAW is doomed!!!”
Stories about the legendary Kzinti Battle Ship the “CLAW” are well known! Told and retold through the centuries since the Man-Kzinti Wars by both sides! She was the finest ship in the Patriarch’s Fleet. Boasting the most modern and powerful equipment, engines and weapons of that time. The captain had been paw picked by the Patriarch himself and in turn the captain had paw picked his officers and crew. Most historians agree that if the Kzinti could have built, equipped and crewed just two more ships like the CLAW, the Alpha Quadrant anyway really would have been their dinner table! According to history, it was only luck that allowed United Earth to find and destroy this threat to their very existence. Earth was sending the biggest fleet it could assemble toward the Kzinti Border to try and end the wars once and for all. The Kzinti found out about the armada and was preparing to meet it and destroy Human interference forever. The CLAW was assigned to lead the attack. Somehow, the details are not clear, a smaller Kzinti vessel collided with the CLAW, destroying the smaller ship and damaging the CLAW’s Drive Section enough that it could not lead the attack. The remainder of the Kzinti fleet left to attack the Earth fleet while the CLAW made ready to return to the Home World for repairs. The battle went badly for the Kzinti and their fleet retreated back to the CLAW’s position. The CLAW’s Captain joined the battle with his damaged ship. Even though it was not operating at full capacity the CLAW managed to destroy a number of the Earth’s Capital Ships and might have won the battle except one of the smaller Earth ships managed to get close enough to the Bridge of the CLAW and self-destruct. Killing all of the CLAW’s Bridge Crew with a fatal dose of radiation. The Kzinti fleet continued their retreat to the Home World but the Humans, their fleet all but decimated, did not follow. Instead they decided to return with the CLAW to Earth to learn its secrets. There was speculation that the Kzinti might have even used some secret Slaver Technology. Earth’s last remaining Capital Ship was detailed to tow the CLAW back to Earth While the rest of the fleet stayed and defended against anticipated Kzinti resistance against having their Greatest Ship claimed by the Monkey Men. A Prize Crew was put aboard the CLAW and it and the Earth ship departed for Earth. It is here history begins to get a bit muddy. All that is known for sure is that the Earth Ship, the CLAW in tow never made it back to Earth. There was speculation that the CLAW was not as “DEAD” as the Humans thought and its surviving crew destroyed their captors before dying themselves or taking over the Earth Ship. The Earth Ship was never seen again but the CLAW was, in a few reported sightings like this one.
As with other unsolved mysteries, soon the stories and legends began to pop up! Most begin with the Captain of the CLAW ordering his damaged ship into battle and one of his Junior Officers expressing doubt that they will be victorious. The Captain, angered by his crew’s lack of faith, then Swears to the Great Fanged One himself that he and his ship will never see the stars of home again until he has blasted EVERY Earth ship to wreckage and he has personally eaten the hearts and livers of all their Monkey Men Crew. He was unsuccessful so now, along with his crew of skeletons or undead, is doomed to sail the stars forever.
“Starfleet does NOT believe in Flying Dutchmansss!”, I reply.
All of a sudden there is a bright flash of light and a human in a Starfleet Uniform appears in front of the View Screen.
“The Kzinti’s right! Arm Photon Torpedoes! Target that ship!”, this intruder orders.
“Ignore those ordersss!”, I command, then ask “Who are . . .”
I stop myself, I remember! A long time ago, when I was First Officer aboard the U.S.S./R.S.E Shadow Hawk! An away mission to Earth of the past! A Romulan Saboteur disguised as a Human Starfleet Admiral! A mythical Vulcan artifact called the Medallion of Deception that enabled its wearer to appear as anyone! AND THE IMAGE CARVED ON ITS FACE! THE IMAGE OF THE VULCAN GOD OF FALSEHOOD! THE IMAGE OF . . .
“Q?”, I ask.
“At your service Commander D’Sefet!”, “Q” answers with a smile and slight bow.
“Q!”, Security-Chief echos with a low, guttural, growl as he recalls the Starfleet briefings on this subject.
“Q” turns toward Security-Chief and says wistfully, “For a moment you sounded just like Mr. Worf, Kzinti!”
“What do you want?”, I question.
“We need to talk Sef.”, “Q” says and with a snap of his fingers he and I are standing in my Ready Room, “Privately!”
One of the things all Starfleet Officers that have had dealings with “Q” agree on is their strong negative emotional reaction to this self-righteous, egotistical, omnipotent being. I may have an advantage over them, except for the omnipotent part, I deal with ones like “Q” on a daily basis. They are known on FI-9 as KZINTI!!!!!!!!
I sit down at my desk and begin, “Very well “Q”, WHAT do you want to talk about?”
“What are you planning to do with the CLAW Sef?”, he asks.
“Tow it to FI-9 ssso it can be ssstudied.”, I answer.
“That might be a VERY bad move on your part.”, “Q” cautions, “Remember what your Kzinti, Security-Chief advised! That ship might contain a lot of bad memories for both Humans and Kzinti! Do them both a service and destroy it.”
“DESTROY IT!?!?!”, I say, “That vessel ISss HISTORY!!!!!!!! Destroying it would be crime against . . . Against . . . Well Humanity, ssso to ssspeak!”
“A cat speaking of HUMANITY?”, “Q” muses with a snort. Not all mysteries need to be or should be solved Sef.”, “Q” cautions as he snaps his fingers and disappear on a flash of light.
Reentering the Bridge I begin, “Jacobsss, take Engineering Away Teammm and sssee if that hulk can ssstand being towed back to FI-9.”
“Right Sef.”, she answers.
“BUT”, I continue, “Do NOT board herrr! I do not want anything in that ssship disturbed!”
“A bit harder job Sef but, whatever you say!”, Jacobs answers as she gets her team organized.
“Communicationsss, get me Starfleet Command!”, I finish.
Jacobs used a Force Field Generator to seal the large hole in the CLAW’s hull and after an inspection found that although the hull had been comprised in many places it was stable enough to be towed. So I ordered the Bastet’s Shields extended around the CLAW’s Hull and a Tractor Beam to lock onto the area of the hull that Jacobs thought the most stable and we began to, SLOWLY tow our prize back to FI-9.
One thing did puzzle her though. During the Man-Kzinti Wars the main weapons were Lasers and “dirty” Tac-Nukes. Even though the CLAW has been drifting in space for over 200 years, that would not have been enough time for the radiation that killed the Bridge Crew to decay away but, when she checked, radiation levels through out the vessel were within safe limits. Another mystery to be solved!
Both the Federation and the Patriarchy were excited about our find and immediately began putting together a team of experts to come to FI-9 to study the CLAW.
As we arrive at FI-9 the problems start! First, where to put the CLAW? He, Kzinti call their ships “HE” instead of “SHE”, is to big to fit into FI-9's Hanger Bay and trying to land him on one of the planets would probably destroy him so we will have to keep him in space. However there is no fuel on the CLAW to power his Thrusters so we will have to put him where the gravity pull from the various bodies in the solar system will not effect him. After a few readings and calculations, it is found placing him fairly close to FI-9 is the best solution. There we can use the station’s Tractor Beam on him if he begins to fall. Because a constant Tractor Beam puts immense stress on a Space Frame, someone from Engineering will be assigned to monitor the CLAW from FI-9's Control Room 24 hours a day and use it only when and if the situation warrants it.
To protect against someone getting into the CLAW to collect souvenirs or damaging him in any way I ordered Jacobs to extend the Force Shield completely around the CLAW’s hull sealing it. With that I think we have everything under control and all we have to do is wait for the experts to arrive. WRONG!!!!!!!!!!!
As I have said, Kzinti are VERY superstitious for a advanced, space fairing civilization! One of those superstitions is that a weapon can be cursed or possessed by its dead owner. The belief is so strong, that in battle, if a T’kzintar (warrior) looses his weapon he will not pick up one from the hands of a dead enemy! Now there is the greatest weapon the Kzinti ever built floating in space near FI-9, his hull probably filled with the bodies of its dead owners! Security-Chief is NOT happy about that! Neither are the Kzinti Miners that use the station for recreation! Many refuse to come to the station unless ordered to do so.
I find even some non-Kzinti have similar feelings when, Jacobs asks, “When are the teams of experts going to arrive eh?”
“I am not sssure. A week orrr more I would estimate.”, then wondering if there is something I should know about, “Why? Isss there problem?”
“No, it is just that he looks so spooky hanging, dead out there!”, she replies.
“I am sssurprised at you!”, I say, ”You sssound just like Security-Chief!”
“Occasionally that walking orange hairball has a valid point!”, she answers adding, “AND if you ever tell him I said that I WILL deny it eh!”
A few days after we get the CLAW settled in, I enter the Control Room and . . . “Reg! It good to sssee you! How are Karie and Kleio?”
“Hi Commander. They’re doing great.”, he answers, “But I was wondering if I could talk to you about something personal.”
“Of course Reg, sssee me after yourrr shift!”, I answer as I enter my office and Reg goes back to monitoring the CLAW’s orbit.
Two weeks almost to the minute after our discovery was made, the experts arrive. The Federation has sent a team of academics headed by a Doctor Pedersen. It is my understanding he is an expert on the ancient wars between Humans and Kzinti and has written numerous papers on the subject. However, to my knowledge he has never visited FI-9 OR the Patriarchy. I wonder if he has ever even met a Kzinti? The Kzinti’s team includes a senior Jotoki Handler that has studied “old” technology and what the Kzinti call a “Rememberer”, sort of a historian that specializes in the Man-Kzinti War era.
Their first task is to spend days reviewing and analyzing the Bastet’s recordings and Sensor readings of the second we made contact with the CLAW. Then they spend even MORE days questioning all of Bastet’s Crew, even the ones that were not on duty at the time of our discovery! Finally using the Bastet’s and FI-9's Sensors, they scan the CLAW from every possible angle, level and distance!
The vessel is small by modern standards, with only four decks. The hull is rounded giving it what Humans call a cigar shape although it is not perfectly round but flattened as well. The front has a feline-like, triangular look and there are large oval viewports on the port and starboard sides where I assume the Bridge is located. They look like larger versions of the ones on my Kzinti Fighter. The stern is dominated by six large rocket exhaust cones clustered around the main hull. From internal scans it appears Engineering (engines, fuel tanks and control equipment) takes up about a third of the ship. Weapons Systems take up much of the remaining space leaving the room for the crew (bridge, quarters, mess hall, sick bay, and life support) very cramped.
Finally after two weeks of interviews, scanning, meetings, consolations and debate, the experts are ready to board the CLAW!
Security-Chief, Jacobs, and I will accompany the experts to the CLAW. Even though we are going to a “dead” hulk, I order Security-Chief to issue Phasers to Jacobs, Himself and I. Because there is no atmosphere or gravity in the CLAW, we will have to wear Space Suits. I am concerned, while Security-Chief, Jacobs and I are use to working in Space Suits, not that we like to, the experts are not! After we make sure they know how to operate their suits life support equipment and are comfortable in them, we beam over to the CLAW.
We materialize on the CLAW inside the massive hole in the port side, a mid ships.
“Everybody ssstay togetherrr! Jacobsss, scan forrr any ssstructural problems! Security-Chief keep eye out forrr traps!”, I order.
Jacobs wants to check out Engineering to see if anything can be done to make working in the CLAW easier so the group heads aft. We pick our way over warped or missing deck plates and through hanging conduit and wires. We pass through a number of ruptured bulkheads. Anything that was not attached to the CLAW and some things that were are long gone. Sucked into space by the explosive decompression caused by whatever made the hole in the hull. Looking at the devastation, I wonder if we will find anything in the ship.
Finally we reach an intact bulkhead. Jacobs scans the compartment behind it for air and pressure before we try and open the hatch. She finds the compartment is as airless as the rest of the ship so one of the Kzinti experts operates the Manual Locking Mechanism and opens the hatch. We enter what appears to be a Mess Hall. There are rows of long tables down one side of the room and what look like lockers behind a food preparation area on the other side. Doctor Pedersen goes to one of the lockers and opens it. Immediately he falls to his knees and his body begins to spasm! The rest of us look to see what has caused his reaction. In the locker is the headless, handless, footless, gutted body of a Human male hanging there like a side of meat!
Now knowing what has caused the doctor’s problem and also knowing what he is getting ready to do, I order, “Security-Chief! Get that human back to Station NOW! Do not let him cough up in hisss helmet!”
Security-Chief grabs the doctor and says, “Two for Emergency Beam Out!”
A few seconds later Security-Chief, back on FI-9 reports, “Pedersen-Doctor is well but I am NOT going to clean the Transporter Pad!”
“Oh Great!”, I hear Jacobs reply.
I thought the experts would have known enough history to have been prepared for this but I guess I was incorrect so I order everyone back to the station for a rethink!
Cats! What a day! I decide to go off duty a little early and since Sarrah is busy in Sickbay, I decide to stop into the Long Branch for a drink before continuing to our quarters. Entering the bar, I see I am not the only one of my staff that has had this idea. Security-Chief is standing at the bar having a Sour Milk and Jacobs is sitting at a table.
Seeing me she waves and calls, “Sef! Over here!”
I join her and order a Squeak Ale from the waiter and ask her if she wants another of whatever she is drinking. She says she does not. The bar is relatively deserted. Other than Security-Chief, Jacobs, Miss Kitty, the bar’s staff and I, there are two civilians, one is Doctor Pedersen, also standing at the Bar. I do not recognize the other.
“What a day, huh Sef?”, Jacobs says between sips of her drink.
I have been around humans long enough to know one of the correct responses is, “I have had betterrr!”
Jacobs continues, “Like everyone, I have heard the stories about the Kzinti but I always thought they were mostly Boogy Man exaggerations! But now, to think they were cannibals!”
“They were Not cannibalsss Jacobsss.”, I correct, “No more than were yourrr ancestorsss when they rrroasted creaturesss that looked like Gerve with fruit ssstuffed in their mouthsss.”
“Yea but that was different Sef!”, Jacobs protests.
“Oh, how?”, I question.
She does not answer, in words, but by the look that forms on her furless face I receive my reply.
All of a sudden Doctor Pedersen speaks up, “NO THEY WERE MANIMALSSSSSSSS . . . MONSHURS!!!!!!!!!”, and drunkenly staggers toward Security-Chief.
Jacobs sizes up the situation quickly and rushes to stand defensively in front of Security-Chief. For a second the scene is very curious! A nine foot tall Kzinti Kzintosh being shielded by a barely five foot tall Human female against a threat from a over six foot tall Human male. Things go bad quickly!
“Back off!”, is all Jacobs can say before a blow from Doctor Pedersen’s big right hand sends her flying.
She crashes onto and through a near by table and lies motionless on the sawdust covered floor. Then I witness something I hope to never witness again. Security-Chief glances at Jacobs on the floor, turning back to Doctor Pedersen, emits a terrifying sound the likes of which I have never heard and with one back pawed blow sends Doctor Pedersen sailing over the bar and into the wall, smashing the large mirror that hangs there before his body crumples to the floor. Security-Chief is getting ready to jump over the bar and finish the job as I reach and restrain him.
Holding him back as best I can, I tap my Com Badge, “Medical Emergency at Long Branch! Doctor Selarrr respond!”
Seconds later Doctor Selar and Sarrah arrive.
They both go to Jacobs first as I say, “Doctor Pedersen is on floorrr behind bar.
Selar stays with Jacobs and Sarrah hurries to examine Doctor Pedersen.
“We need to get her to Sick Bay!”, Doctor Selar says, urgency and worry sounding in her voice.
Both of us are stunned as Security-Chief goes to and kneels down beside Jacobs. Gently, gingerly, almost lovingly gathers her body in his arms, rises and without a sound carries her out of the bar.
For a second I see indecision in Selar’s eyes until Sarrah says, ”Pedersen-Doctor is regaining consciousness.”
“Go care forrr Jacobsss!”, I tell Selar, “Sarrah and I will get Doctorrr Pedersen to Sick Bay.”
“How bad are Lieutenant Commander Jacob’s injuries Sef?”, Admiral Ball inquires as I make a report on the incident to him the next morning.
“Fourrr broken ribsss, punctured left lung, broken nose, jaw and rrright arm, concussion, as well as numerous cutsss and bruisesss. Mostly from smashing through table top. Doctor Selarrr has relived her of duty forrr week. She saysss then she will reevaluate her rrrecovery and determine when she can rrreturn to duty.”, I inform.
“And Doctor Pedersen’s injuries?”, Admiral Ball questions.
“He wasss lucky. Being intoxicated he was lesss rigid when he hit wall and floorrr. A few minorrr cutsss and bruisesss as well as broken left wrist was all he suffered.”, I report, “As farrr as charges against Doctor Pedersen forrr assault and battery on Starfleet personnel, both Lieutenant Commander Jacobsss and Security-Chief want to forget incident. All Miss Kitty isss concerned with isss damage to herrr business. If Doctorrr pays for it she will not preferrr charges of public drunkennesss. Finally as to charge of Racial Prejudice and Profiling, like my officers, I preferrr to let it passs, THIS time.”
"How was Doctor Pedersen allowed to get so intoxicated?”, Admiral Ball inquires, “Wasn’t he being monitored by the Bar Tender?”
“Recordingsss show he was served only one alcoholic drink. Bar Tender seeing level of his intoxication rrrising made sure other two he was served were synthehol. Apparently Doctorrr Pedersen was adding his own alcohol to drinksss.”, I inform.
“What about the body?”, Admarial Ball questions, changing the subject.
“I sent Doctorrr Selassr to CLAW and she took DNA sssample for Experts.”, I report, “Are there any Starfleet expertsss that can be assigned to this mission? I am not sure about Kzinti but these Human civilian expertsss seem ill-prepared forrr this type of mission!”
“I’m sorry Sef but the Federation Archaeology Council picked the experts, Starfleet has not been consulted on this one at all.”, Admiral Ball explains, “I know you will do the best you can. Ball out.”
“I tried to warn you Sef.”, A disembodied voice says and then with a flash of light, “Q” appears and finishes, “BUT you would not listen!”
“Q” snaps his fingers and we are instantly transported to the surface of a planet, which one I can not tell. I can tell that a mammoth battle took place here! Sometimes I envy the Humans with their less acute senses, for ones like me, the place stinks of blood, charred and decaying flesh and DEATH!
“Where are we “Q”?”, I question looking around.
“We are where your decision took you, the Federation and the Kzinti Sef.”, “Q” answers.
It is dark, night it seems but it could just as easily be day with the sky darkened by the clouds of thick black smoke coming from the many fires that are burning. With their light contribution, my “cat’s” eyes can make out a few things. There are the blackened walls of large buildings, blasted to rubble by Phaser fire I assume so the planet is . . . was inhabited. Between the buildings are wrecks of machines, they look like Fighters both Federation and . . . KZINTI! I wonder if there are any survivors of the battle trapped in the ruins or the wrecks. My duty as a Starfleet officer dictates I should look for and assist them. I approach a Federation Fighter that looks like it is relatively intact. I can see the pilot through the transparent canopy of the cockpit, a female Andorian. She is still strapped in her seat and is not moving. Using the Manual Eject Lever, I raise the canopy and check the pilot’s condition. The stench that assaults my nose tells me she is dead. It appears that after it was hit, the fighter lost power and nosed in. The force of the impact dislodged some wreckage that in turn impaled her through the lower body. From the expression frozen on her face by death, she lived for sometime after the crash and experienced the horror of knowing no one could help her as the battle raged on around her. In the distance I see the wreck of a much larger vessel, it’s profile looks familiar so I pick my way through the rubble toward it.
Just before I reach the larger wreck I stumble over an unburied, decomposing body. It has a tail, I believe it is Felinoid but it is to small to be a Kzinti and the fur is not tiger striped but a solid, dark color. It lays face down in the dirt. By the light I can see there are hundreds of other bloated, rotting bodies scattered around me. I kneel beside the body, the scent tells me it has been here for some time. I turn the body over and look into it’s face, MY FACE! The body is MINE! Then I know why the wreck’s profile looked familiar, the larger vessel IS the Bastet!
“They are all dead Sef.”, “Q” says as he walks up behind me.
I gently lower my body back to the ground, spring to my feet and whirl around to face him, “Who isss “Q”?"
“ANYONE seeing the CLAW is doomed!”, is the answer I receive in Security-Chief’s voice. “You should have listened to him!”, “Q” chides.
A sickening thought invades my mind, “Sarrah!” is all I get out before “Q” snaps his fingers and we are standing in the Bazaar on FI-9 or what is left of it! It is dark, only the Emergency Lighting is operating and they are flickering. I can tell the Gravity Generators are down because there is wreckage, equipment and bodies floating in the air but I seem not to be affected by the lack of gravity. I sprint to Sick Bay, dodging more lifeless bodies and floating wreckage along the way.
The doors to Sick Bay are closed and with no power to open them, I will have to pry them apart with my bare claws to gain entrance. I insert my claws in the crack between the doors and pull! It takes all my strength but they begin to move. As the doors part, a terrible sight greets my eyes!
The Sick Bay was filled with wounded. I do not see Doctor Selar, it is possible she was out somewhere treating the injured. However I do see Sarrah! She, wearing a uniform, is sprawled face down across one of the Bio Beds, trying to protect a injured patient, a Kzinti T'kzintar (warrior) from falling wreckage, like the dedicated healer she hoped to become. The wreckage ended both the life of the Kzintosh and Kzinrret! I race to her, push the now weightless wreckage off and I pick her limp, battered, lifeless body up and hold it tight to mine. I had not considered this! It is then I notice the insignia on her uniform! She is a doctor!
Is the CLAW worth the price Sef?”, “Q” asks as he strolls into Sick Bay.
I have always prided myself on my even temperament but, everyone has their breaking point! I have reached mine! I drop Sarrah’s body back on the bed, hiss and leap at “Q”, not caring what happens! All I want is one swipe of my claws across his face! To see the pain in his eyes. To see if the “Q” have blood and if so, what color! The look on his face seems to indicate he did not expect me to attack. I draw back my arm, claws extended and . . .
With a flash of light. we are back on the Bridge of the Bastet!
As I stumble to a halt, Jacobs reports from the CLAW, “I think we can haul this wreck home in one piece Sef.”
“Q” looks at me as asks, “Well Sef what’s it going to be?”
“Lock Tractorrr Beam on that ssship!”, I Command.
“For “HUMANITY” Sef?”, “Q” questions.
“IT WASss THEIR WARrr, NOT OURSss! AND IT IS OVERrr, OVERrr LONG TIME AGO!”, I reply, “And Humanity, whatever colorrr or length of their furrr, if any, MUST acknowledge THAT if we are to move on! ”
“Very good Sef!”, “Q” says, quietly clapping his hands, “Out of all the Starfleet Captains I have met, I expected you to have the most trouble with THAT!”
“I know you have tormented Captainsss Pickard and Janeway as well as Commanderr Sisco so why did you think I would have problem?”, I question.
“Well lets just say it was because you are SO . . . Furry Sef, even more so than Riker with his beard and leave it at that!”, “Q” answers.
Then turning to Security-Chief, “There were other cats involved! What do you say Kzinti?”
“The Night Ends and with its Death, Brings a New Day! All T'kzintar (warrior) know this and agree, the Dead Should be Honored BUT Remain Buried!”, Security-Chief answers.
“Not bad Orange Fur Ball!”, “Q” says, “For a start! I will be keeping an eye on you too!” As Security-Chief growls, with a snap of his fingers and a flash of light “Q” is gone, for now.
Like most night horses (mares SEF!) the memory(?) of the past few weeks fade quickly. I am still trying to sort out what exactly happened from what did not or did it? It seems no one except Security-Chief and I were treated by “Q” to the glimpse of a possible future and I have not had time to compare my experience with his. All I am sure of is the teams of experts DID arrive. We DID board the CLAW and explore him, from stern to bow. We DID find some disturbing things in him including “Human” meat but the experts were professionals and treated the finds in a clinical, dispassionate fashion. Now they are making plans to move the CLAW to a more convenient location to continue studying and preserving him. From what I hear, EVERYONE on FI-9 will be relieved when that happens.
With things settling down, Sarrah and I get a rare chance to relax in our quarters together.
“I am worried about these tests.”, Sarrah says.
“Do NOT!”, I answer, “I have it on good authority that you will do well and you will look ssso beautiful in yourrr Medical Uniform!”
Sarrah looks at me, her body indicating her puzzlement, “How do you know that?”
“I have my waysss kitten.”, I say as I pull her close.
Suddenly I feel strange, Sarrah senses my reaction and asks, “What is wrong my love?”
“I do not know kitten, an odd feeling. I have heard Jacobsss describe it as feeling as if sssomeone was walking on herrr grave!”, I answer. Then as quickly as it had came it is gone. I look into Sarrah’s worried eyes, and continue, “Not to worry, feeling isss gone now!” and I pray it never returns!
