[snip]

After everyone had been atomized in proper order, the first thing they would find is a lot of the air smelled of thick sulphury and other icky pollutants from uncontrolled strip mining and high end modern industry like the Klingons often did on their various conquered worlds. The air was breathable, but it clung to their throats like an annoying thing tickling their throats and noses at times.

The security winced as he breathed the polluted air .

Verity let out a couple of coughs as she scanned the area.

Cara was fascinated. Many planets went through such polluted phases as they quickly industrialised, without any regard for public health. She had read about the phenomena is all the text books, but never seen it for real. The text books gave examples of air too toxic to breath, planets that were polluted slums without clean water to drink, and where wildlife had been taken to edge of extinction.

The ground underfoot was similarly polluted, covered dirt and dead grass with hunks of metal and scrap all over the place. A few tougher bits of weeds here and there had somehow clung on through the sickly yellow water provided and grown in spots about the large hunks of metal and rocks. Overhead the sky was a tinged dark blue-orange hue due to the aforementioned pollutants.

“Ugh,” said Verity, as she frowned at all the pollutants under her boot, “the Klingons really did a terrible number on this planet. I am afraid to assess the condition on the inhabitants.”

Scans Verity soon showed there was no local life for a couple hundred yards over the hill and down into the ramshackle valley. No signs of Klingons were in evidence either. There were a few smaller life signs of likely hardy and/or sickly animal life hiding out of sight but nothing that seemed dangerous yet to them.

“No signs of life in the immediate area, Commander. However, I think we will find some just over the hill.” She pointed her tricorder in the direction of the hill. “We should head over that way.”

As Wolf would get to the rise of the hill and peer down he saw much as had been seen on the bridge. A wide dug out valley of wreckage from disruptor fire and demo charges, used to destroy modern machinery, setup interspersed with rusty metal shacks or the occasional slightly cleaner pre-fab huts the Klingons had provided those who they favored. In the middle of the valley a large group of locals were bickering back and forth over a variety of things it seems, some about water bottles, other about food supplies, others still about mogrel animals for one thing or another, still more arguing for who was in charge or favored by their departed gods, it went on and on. The real details of this though could not be made out from over 200 yards away beyond a few snatched shouts or hollers.

Cara really wished they could get closer and hear what the arguments were about, but that would be against the Captain’s orders. So far, everything appeared to be just as the intelligence reports had said. Which meant they were going to have a tough time getting through to these natives that they were friendly and wanted to help.

At the center of this all though a small 20x20 circle like some kind of ritualistic arena for sports combat the Klingons favored showed two men shouting the most and waving threatening gestures and bits of pipe at each other. Two groups on either side of the ring were doing the same to their counterparts on the other. Clearly this was some kind of fight for who was in control or the like.

Richard made his way up the hill, crouched in order to avoid detection, making sure he stayed hidden .Once he was sure the place was safe the security looked down at the rest of the team signalling that it was safe for them to climb up.

At Richard’s signal, Verity hurried up the hill and crouched behind him, gripping her tricorder tightly in her hand waiting for the next order.

Cara stayed close to Joe, and wondered why the others were splitting up. She thought they were meant to stay hidden and be covert.

Joe could only give himself a palm slap as he watched his security detail scamper up the hill. Despite the fact that he had ordered them to cover the flanks of the hill, there they were climbing the thing. No one looking behind them and unable to look forward for too long without someone in the village seeing them. He decided to do the best that he could under the circumstances. He squatted down at the bottom of the hill in the middle of it so that he could watch behind the away team for anything coming up behind them. He opened his communicator then and called out to the science officer. =/\= “Lieutenant Verity. You’re by yourself at the summit. Go up check for further life forms and types, types and condition. Make it a good medical scan so that Doctor Cross can examine the data. Also scan for weapons and any sort of operational power sources or any other types of advanced technology they may be hiding over there. When you finish that it’s your call. If you think we’re finished, you call the ship and get us out of here. Oh, and security? Hold positions., Milligan out. =/\=

Verity responded into her communicator, “Um…Commander, what about me getting captured and put to work in the mines? Just kidding! Orders acknowledged, sir. I will let you know what I discover then make a recommendation.” She proceeded to move further up to collect the requested data.

Cara didn’t appreciate the humour about Klingon mines. Some of her family had been pressed into service in Klingon mines. It was not something to joke about so flippantly.

Many from Cara’s Pride perished inside Klingon prison catacombs, or else were forced to work on knitting frames where they rolled balls of steel wool in the manufacture of Klingon Baldrics, and were forced to sleep inside cardboard boxes.

“I’d really like to study this culture close up, in detail, Sir,” Cara told Joe, “but looking as I do, even with make-up, I will never pass for a native, and without being able to get close enough to hear the whole conversation, or their body language and behaviours, there is little more that I can do here. I do think that with make-up and prosthetics, then humans and Vulcans could pass for the Wal3 locals, and I’ll make that recommendation to the Captain.”

Hearing the Lieutenant Joe could only smile before he replied saying, Lieutenant these people have had those ugly Klingon goobers around for almost a generation. I dare say if they saw you, they would not panic. Though if you you think it would one of our doctors could easily fix you up with something.”

Cara was a little put out that the Commander might think that she thought herself to be ugly. Native Humans had always generally thought of her species as Gods too. “Not at all, I just got the impression from the briefing that the Captain wanted us to be incognito when we do meet them, on account that the Klingons had made humans out to be ‘Devils’ and Starfleet orders, and the Prime Directive, obviously, which both would forbid us from impersonating Gods.”

“Personally, I’d stay as you are.” Joe said with a small smile. “They might just take to you quicker than us. As I said they’ve probably grown to dislike the Klingons and as you say everyone else is supposed to be devils. If I were you, I’d just stay the way you are and get the job done. Otherwise, that nut Doctor Wong might get all the assignments.”

“Yes, Sir!” replied Cara. “My Pride have had our dust-ups with Klingons before. One or too catastrophes too. You know the reason why you don’t see too many Klingons with ears, don’t you?”

Lance was looking through a pair of binoculars “this looks like a very closed group any one new will rise suspicion. I don’t think we can get close in a large group even a small group can be found out……did everyone take a phaser from the box and please tell me you all left your star fleet gear on the ship”

Verity was unaware of all the conversations going on as she had moved further up the hill to collect the data the commander requested. Her phaser was in the pocket of her jumpsuit, but it was the last thing on her mind. She trusted the security team was watching her six, would swoop in if she were to be spotted/detected, and rescue her so she would not be captured and taken to the mines to work.

The security simple put a thumbs up to the Lt., as he kept a vigilant look for any danger or activity of their nearby surrounding.

Verity’s tricorder beeped as it collected information.

As the tricorder was scanning Richard wondered if the inhabitants one hundred meters away where able to hear it, even though he knew the sound emitted was insignificant. The security was able to give the impression of being in control ,after all the others evidently looked calm.

While the others continued their scanning and surveillance, Cara decided to broach a subject with the XO that had been troubling her since she had first arrived on the Merrimack. “Sir, with all due respect, may I ask a delicate question on safeguarding policy that involves the Captain and other senior members of the crew? Or is this not the right time?”

“Sir! You mentioned earlier of your dislike for the Transporter, that I share too. Some people just don’t understand how much it messes with your hair… anyhow, I know what it is like to be treated differently, just because you dislike this or that, or because have tan fur rather than black fur, or worse, you’re a tortoiseshell!!” Cara exclaimed.

“Since I first came aboard the USS Merrimack, I became aware that not all races are treated here as equals, and that a member of one species, in particular, has been trafficked aboard the Merrimack, and is discriminated upon in regard to their physical and cultural characteristics, intelligence, and their level of technological development,” Cara revealed.

“There is only one individual of this particular species aboard, and people rarely mention him amongst the crew manifest. However, I strongly believe that they suffer from discrimination, abuse, bullying, and also racial slurs, on an almost daily basis. They are not given their own Quarters, and must sleep anywhere, in any space they can find. They aren’t given a uniform… well no clothing at all actually, nor do they have access to the Food Replicators or water closets,” Cara continued to make her case.

“Sir, I have thoroughly searched the Computer library files, and it also appears that the ship has no policies that make it clear what is being done to protect this vulnerable individual; it’s as if everyone is so blinkered that no one is even aware of it. This poor individual is being objectified and degraded to nothing more than a piece of the ship’s furniture. This is the 24th Century Sir!” Cara exclaimed.

“Would you support me, Sir?” Cara asked.

“With your permission, I would like to apply to make them my ward, and to have them placed under my protection as their legal guardian. I would do this to free them from their involuntary servitude, in which they have been forced to work, primarily in in pest control, in a form of debt bondage to the captain and other senior crew. I want to show my solidarity, that the humanity of another fellow feline species cannot continue to be disavowed in this way,” Cara added.

After a few moments of listening to Cara speak Joe’s right eyes started to go to sleep and droop a little bit. Just the right one. It was a trick he’d acquired long ago. The It only side effect was an odd buzzing in his head. This he had assumed was the sound of the person that he was pointedly ignoring talking to him as he took an odd nap as he called it.

He then popped his eye pen again thinking that he might be hearing something new and different. She did sound as though she might be running down, however. A few more sentences and he actually was sure what she was talking about. He then was forced to try to decide which one of them might be sane.

Turning toward Cara he asked with amazement. “If you’re talking about that scurvy cat, I don’t think you have sat down and talked to it. You should study it and its ancestry. Cats of Earth choose to do what they will. They are a species who either choose to live with humans or not. We have little to no control over them. They were once as a matter of fact worshiped as gods. My own opinion is that they are aliens spying on us and keeping us awake at night during their mating rituals. ” Suddenly Joe chuckled as he said, “I’ll make you a deal Lieutenant. You get that cat to shower on a regular basis and I’ll sign off on anything you have.”

“Yes Sir, he is most observant. Obviously, I have not had detailed conversations with him regarding this, as he finds the Federation standard language a challenge, and his powers of communication and understanding are limited, but he told me that he was taken away from his mother as a very young kitten, and that he never consented to choose this life of space travel. Under the circumstances, Sir, wouldn’t you also make a dirty protest once in a while too?”

-Cara, Ship’s Anthropologist and Sociologists