Jinkies

Posted on Tue Nov 24th, 2015 @ 7:34am by Captain Charybdis MacGregor & Commodore Raul Mizumoto
Edited on on Sat Apr 28th, 2018 @ 9:53pm

0 words; about a 1 minute read

Mission: Taking Chances
Location: USS Bonne Chance, Deck 16, sub-engineering
Timeline: 2265
Tags: mystery,cat,engineering

When strolling the decks previously, Charybdis had failed to notice how few crewmen were moving about on them... that was perhaps because she had never stopped to consider that with a crew complement of four hundred and thirty individuals, the Bonne Chance should always seem like a beehive of activity, no matter the hour, because of the twenty-four hour nature of shipboard life.

But while her early shipboard freedom had given her the opportunity to intermingle, she just had not really taken much advantage of it. She was not entirely comfortable mingling in larger groups, and she did not know many of her shipmates just yet. Plus she had never seen the ship at full crew strength, so she had no context to draw upon. When she had run her sensor sweep of the ship on the bridge earlier that day looking for the former CSO, the current crew complement was two hundred and eleven lifeforms.

Just below half strength.

She was uncertain just how many of them were currently on Starbase 4, but regulations stated that no more than twenty percent of the active duty roster could be on shore leave at the same time. So that meant that if the regulation was being enforced... which she would assume was the case at the moment, even with the lack of senior officers and department heads... then there were a theoretical maximum of forty-two crew members on the Starbase, bringing the current total ship's complement to only two hundred and fifty-three.

A manpower shortage of one hundred and seventy-seven crewmen.

This was a dire situation indeed. The ship could actually operate effectively with only a skeleton crew of ninety four individuals, but she couldn't fulfill most of her potential mission parameters with such a skeleton crew. Exploration, experimentation, analysis of data and star charting would be woefully inadequate with the bare minimum, damage control teams would be sorely undermanned and repairs would take entirely too long, if they were even possible at all. And at the current census, the Bonne Chance was actually closer to that minimum than it was to her optimal capacity.



What was really happening here? Was this a test from the Admiralty to see just how stripped down a crew could be and still function? Was it a conspiracy of some sort... the Captain quietly depleting the crew roster for some sinister purpose, or was Starfleet Command setting the ship up for a sacrifice play of some sort? These Constitution-class heavy cruisers were the pride of Starfleet, so it made no sense for one of them to be so seemingly abandoned, yet the facts were irrefutable. There were not enough crew members aboard this ship for her to be dispatched on a mission... perhaps that was why she had been stopped at Starbase 4. But why send her out in the first place? Why drain away the crew? Why cycle out the senior staff? Why leave so many positions unoccupied? Where was the Captain?

What the science officer had were an awful lot of questions that were starting to pile up, but alarmingly few answers.

She had worked her entire career for this assignment, and she wasn't about to have it drop out from under her, or for it to turn to ash on her as soon as she achieved it. But she was uncertain of how to proceed... ideally inspecting the communications logs would be the next move. Then she could see if she could identify a pattern to the orders removing crewmen... perhaps even further than that, she could look for what caused the ship to be rushed out of the refit yard. In a perfect world she could see what orders had come through for the Captain, and see what had caused so many of the senior officers to be shuffled on and off the ship until no one seemed to know who was in charge of what anymore.

The problem was, she was not a Communications officer, she was a Science officer. She was uncertain if she could manage to inspect all of the ship's communications and orders without arousing suspicion, and perhaps drawing undue and unwelcome attention to herself. Of course, she had a habit of drawing attention to herself, but not this kind. And if there was actually a sinister purpose to all of this, then she might be endangering herself, her position and possibly the crew.

But then, given the current state of the ship, she was none too safe as it stood. If an attack came right now, she felt confident that the big Capellan would fight, but was the crew ready for it... was the ship itself ready for it? And was the Commander actually a competent starship combat commander... he was good in the gymnasium, but could he excel in three-dimensional space combat? She didn't know for certain. She wasn't sure how long he had even held his position. For that matter, was he a part of the situation... he seemed unconcerned about the crew roster. On the Bridge he was nothing but relaxed, and if he had moved into the XO position recently, that could point to complicity.

Ship's system were offline as well... she had monitored a communication while managing the station for Lieutenant Corben that informed her that at least one of the aft photon torpedo launchers was still due to be installed. How many other systems were offline? She resolved to look into that as well... who sent a ship out of the shipyards when it wasn't even assembled?

It was, she decided, worth the risk to investigate. If the ship was in danger, then it was her duty as a Starfleet officer to investigate it and uncover the truth. If there was a reasonable explanation, then the crew needed to be made aware, because when the NCOs started asking questions like that, it was the tip of a very large iceberg, and it meant that the crew morale would be reflecting that attitude shortly, if it was not already. Charybdis had already received one reprimand since coming aboard the Bonne Chance... she was perfectly willing to risk another.

What could they do, demote her? She'd been demoted before, and she didn't fear rank reduction. She was far more fearful of being sent to her doom to serve some Machiavellian purpose that she should have been aware of and seen the warning signs. She could always earn rank back... her life, and the lives of the personnel under her command were irreplaceable.

She had strolled about the ship, eventually arriving in Main Engineering, where she had come because feeling the thrum of the powerful engines, even on simple impulse power, reassured her. She was still considering the transfer to Engineering... but it seemed somehow moot now that Suval had departed and she had no one hectoring her in the Science department. She might even be appointed Chief Science Officer again, if the Captain ever returned to the ship and noticed that she was aboard. Or perhaps she might be the next transfer off of the ship... assuming crew members really were making it off the ship.

Briefly she considered contacting Suval. He had transferred off in a hurry to get away from her, but she could contact him to insure that he was all right, and that nothing sinister had befallen him. She shook her head at that... she could just see him ignoring a message from her, which would be reasonable, given that he likely had nothing to say to her... which would only serve to fuel her paranoia. She filed that option for later... perhaps the time would come when she had to reach out to the Kolinahr, but for now, she could handle this in her own way.

As she strolled about, one of the Engineering red shirts approached with a curious look, and before he could ask, she held up a hand. "Just taking a walk, Lieutenant Commander. I walk when I think ,and if I'm not in the way I just thought I'd feel the hum of the engines for a bit."

The Lieutenant Commander smiled and nodded. "Yeah... I know what you mean. It just kinda clears your head and soothes the soul a bit, hearing and feeling that steady vibration, dunnit?" She smiled and nodded, then continued on her way. She understood engineers, and it seemed as though fewer Vulcans were drawn to the hands-on engineering field than the sciences... after all, there wasn't a Vulcan Engineering Academy. If not now, then later she was definitely transferring to Engineering. She didn't look quite as good in red as she did in blue, but no matter. It was the job, not the uniform that mattered, and she was growing rather fond of this vessel design.

As she climbed up the access ladder to Deck Fourteen, a sound caught her ear, and her eyebrow rose in curiosity. It sounded like an animal... whatever it was, it definitely wasn't a mechanical sound. As she tuned her hearing and listened, she heard it again... definitely an animal, and unless she was mistaken, a feline of some sort. She moved cautiously toward it in the dimly-lit access tunnel... it was not the best of conditions, and there was very little light to work with. While she did possess slightly superior hearing to humans, her night vision was no better. Of course, having spent the past few minutes in contemplation of dire possibilities in regards to the ship, she was much more on edge than she would be ordinarily.

That was when she heard a hissing sound from above her, and she whirled, arms upraised and ready for combat.

A furry mass perhaps of perhaps10 kilos landed squarely on her chest, having taken her by surprise. She rolled with the impact instinctively, grasping her assailant and coming up holding it in her hands, even as she felt a piercing pain in the skin on her chest. She hissed, her assailant hissed, and when she rolled over to pin it they ended up in a patch of lit corridor, and that was when she realized just what it appeared to be that had attacked her.

A feline. An Earth Housecat, unless she was mistaken; Felis Domesticus. When mankind had taken to the stars, some had brought their pets with them as companions, and while they were not as common on starships as they were on earth, they did pop up from time to time. She suddenly recalled this lifeform showing up on her sensor scan as one of the alien lifeforms with which she was unfamiliar, and she kicked herself. An Earthcat. Of course.

As for the pain in her chest, the beast had sunk its claws into her chest when it had landed on her, or perhaps when she had taken it tumbling, which was a reasonable response on the part of the animal's instinct, if painful for Charybdis. She shooshed and stroked the creature and it managed to withdraw its claws sufficiently to get them untangled from her skin and her uniform, and then it rolled violently in place to free itself from her grip.

She wasn't sure what it was doing here or if it should be loose on the ship like this, but she also had no idea where it belonged. The adrenaline of the 'attack' subsiding, Charybdis rolled over to sit on her rear and extended her hand toward the feline and make kissy noises. One of her many roommates at the Academy had been a cat lover and had brought her pet to the dorms one weekend where Charybdis had discovered, much to her surprise, that she liked cats.

The feline looked at her warily for a moment, back arched and tail erect, then it relaxed and padded over to rub itself along her calf, then turned his head toward her, inviting her to scratch the scruff of his neck and behind his ears, or perhaps his cheeks. She smiled and did all of the three, and stroked along his body, coming away with handfuls of loose fur. "Looks like someone needs to be brushed," she commented, and the cat eyed her with indifference. Apparently he was not fond of that idea, she mused.

"So what am I supposed to do I do with you, hmmm? I suppose the correct answer is to take you with me, feed you and then figure out who you belong to and restrict you to quarters." The cat stepped a few feet away from her at that suggestion, and she laughed. "And you'll probably lead me on a merry chase if I try to do that, won't you?" The feline meowed gently and rubbed against her leg again, making her smile.

"Well... ideally now that I know you exist, I can probably figure out how to tune the sensors to look for you, if I need to find you. Ugh... that means we actually have two hundred and ten actual crew onboard then, come to think of it. And while a loose animal could do a lot of harm in the engine room, somehow I doubt you are all that intelligent..." The feline gave her a disdainful look at that, which made her grin again. "Well, sure, for all I know you are a powerful alien invader taking a form that I won't think twice about in order to be the author of our downfall here on the Bonne Chance. But I somehow doubt it..." she added in a childish voice as she scritched behind the tabby's ears.

"My name's Charybdis, pussycat. If you follow me home, I will feed you and care for you until we find your owner, but somehow I doubt that's going to happen. In the meanwhile, if you want some attention from me, next time try just walking up to me instead of clawing up my chest, hmm?" She rubbed her breasts through her uniform top... those claws were sharp, and they stung quite a bit. Not that she was going to go to sickbay over it, but it was an experience she'd prefer not to repeat if at all possible.

The cat stepped a few paces away, looked over his shoulder... Charybdis had decided that it was a he... and meowled at her. Then it scampered off down the corridor and around a corner.

A housecat on a starship, she mused as she rose and tried unsuccessfully to brush the cat hair off her uniform. Only in the Federation.

 

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