[snip]

“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

Joe turned toward Cara with obvious concern on his face. “Lieutenant. One simply does not make one of his kind do anything unless you wish to get a bit of bodily injury. Take my word on this he’s happy where he is, or he wouldn’t be here. He could have slipped off any space station we’ve ever been to or jumped onto a transporter padd at any time. But instead, he has chosen to sleep. He is either content or a spy for the Vulcan high command. He has hornswoggled you, Lieutenant.”

Lt.Cmdr. Joe Milligan XO

OOC: Sorry for the slow delay!

As everyone was chatting in low voices (hopefully!) the assorted tricorders would indeed confirm the highly polluted state of the area about, both in land, water, and air. It would likely take decades of concentrated efforts by the Federation Global Reclamations departments to make any real progress on cleaning up the mess the Klingons had left behind.

Meanwhile down the hill the shouting over much of the larger clusters of people had died down a bit as a sudden ‘bang’ echoed twice over the area where the two leader like folks had been challenging each other back and forth. The report of a ballistics’ firearm, probably something the Klingons had given a select few favored locals to keep order for had gone off twice. The holder of the rifle like firearm could then be heard soon shouting at the top of his lungs in the native tongue which thankfully their UTs could translate at this distance. “..Enough of this bickering like unknown word, the divine agents of unknown world and their avatars may have left us, finding us unworthy of further favor. But doing…” The man gestured in a wide expanse of his arms gestured to the listening crowd around. “..this, is a shame upon us all and only looses us more favor in their eyes..” he said.

Getting interrupted by one of the two earlier bickering leaders among the two factions in an arena the portly man shouted, “..You speak of the Old Ways Of Weakness, brother! The divine agents of unknown word showed and explained to us of the New Ways! Of how unknown word preferred now strength, a warrior’s honor, and servitude to His ways. Rather then those of weaknesses in the Old Ways!..” The portly man said.

”..You are no better then ‘brother’!..” Said the second of the bickering pair from earlier, “..you grow fat and weak on the hard work and prayers of only those YOU favor not all of us who favor HIM, you lapped at the feet of His divine agents from the sky rather then worship the great unknown word as is intended even in the New Ways! You and your lackies are just corrupt and false idols!” the second shouted back.

The third man with the firearm standing on a slightly raised dais with the ballistic rifle seemed to sigh as raised voices came booming up in volume all over again. Aiming the gun skyward again he fired off two more bullets. Silence slowly fell again. “..Enough of this!! Whether the Old Ways or the New Ways are the Right Ways is not a point to argue over! We must put aside our dishonorable infighting and find a way to continue together! If we do not there will not be any drinkable food, water, or air to breathe for ourselves or children for us to continue to worship one way or another! We need to reclaim the land, water, and air, we need to build upon all we have learned from the divine agents of unknown word so we may remain viable for Him whence he speaks once more to us! Can we not agree on this singular purpose for now? Or do we wish to continue to bicker and fight while we and our mates and our children starve, grow sick, or die all around us and in other tribes upon our holy lands?” he asked.

A long pause drew out as the crowd murmured amongst themselves.....

Then as if to break this all back with the away team from a pile of loose trash and rubble Cara would feel a small hand tug on her tail with a girlish giggle, then a second tug in quick succession came with a harder yank!

GM CockRoach