Commander Malex
Backyard Yowler
SAY HELLO TO MY LITTLE FRIEND! "Kat-Of-Endless-Droning"
Posts: 881
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Post by Commander Malex on Dec 16, 2007 14:41:05 GMT -5
LOL, Dewey, Cheetum, and H’owe...I know that from Car Talk, NPRwww.cartalk.com/content/about/credits/credits.htmlPersonal favs: (all in the pronunciations) Air Traffic Controller: Ulanda U. LuckyArt Critic: Phyllis SteenAssistant Director of Strategic Planning: Kent C. DetreesAustralian Tour Guide: Joaquin Matilda Auto-Body Expert: James BondoChairman, Underemployment Study Group: Art MajorsChief Information Officer: Otto Delupe Copyright Attorney: Pat Pending Credit Counselor: Max Stout Director of Catering: Russell Upsum gruband so on...
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Post by DeathFrog on Dec 18, 2007 21:23:05 GMT -5
It was all M’ress could do to stare at the PADD. There it was, his schedule fully organized and prioritized. Even his messages were listed in order. Now it was his turn to stammer.
“Uh. I? Hmmm? Thank you.”
Tr’rins ears fluttered. This stunned reaction was what she was hoping for. Her own reaction was almost uncontrollable as she had worked hard to correct her first impression. It had worked, and he was dumbfounded.
“Will that be all?” she asked.
“Uh? Yeah.” He straightened up “Yes, thank you. That will be all.” She turned to leave but stopped about half way. She pointed to the duffel.
“Would you like me to send those for cleaning?”
He looked blankly at the bag, and then looked back at her. Suddenly he grinned,
“Yes, please.”
She moved to pick up the bag. At first she staggered, but then reset herself and hefted it and walked out. He outright smiled now, a broad toothy Kzin smile of satisfaction. Surprise, surprise.
Turning his attention to the PADD, he checked the time. Too late for business, he’ll worry about those tomorrow. He took a deep drink from the mug and started the personals.
Mater (mother). She wanted to know how the war was going and if he was getting enough sleep and relaxation since he was so tense the last time he saw her. He rolled his eye. OI!
Littermate (Older brother). Asking for help with moving his family to new estate. Not during a war.
Second-Litter mate (Younger Teenaged sister) Asking him to beat up her latest unfaithful Kzintosh paramour. That actually could be fun. Maybe I could just scare him a bit and not actually hurt him. He checked the identity of the Kzintosh as she had included it in the message. Hmmm, he’s military as well. No wonder she asked him. Drone duty maybe?
The last one caught him off guard completely as it wasn’t family.
Kayleen. His kzinrette before entry into the military.
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Post by DeathFrog on Dec 18, 2007 21:23:29 GMT -5
After all these years, she was sending him a message.
He read the next couple of lines very intently. In town, heard from a mutual old friend, had to call and see how you’re doing.
She was asking him out to dinner.
Now THAT was a surprise. Years ago when they had parted, it had been on good terms. But he had always initiated the contact they had. He was never completely sure if she was merely playing the diminutive role, or if she was truly brought up that way. Well, if she was asking HIM out, she might just have been playing the role. His mind raced. All sorts of possibilities about her were appearing and disappearing.
Then all of a sudden it all stopped. Realization hit when he remembered the appointment with Dewey, Cheetum and H’owe. That d**ned divorce. At least once the documents get verified he’ll be a free Kzin again. Redfur’s claws were long and sharp and knew exactly where to get him. But once he had the final word, he could…
“Message coming in from A Chuut R’itt, Sire” Tr’rin voice cut into his musings. “It’s marked as high priority.”
d**n him and his proprietary license.
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Post by DeathFrog on Dec 20, 2007 23:28:08 GMT -5
The summons from Chuut was almost a year ago. At first it had seemed like an urgent call at the time but it turned out to be just another reminder about certain military requirements.
Many things had happened since then. But there was no doubt the chain of events were started by that summons. M’ress looked over at the clock, 3:05 in the morning and he couldn’t sleep. His bed was comfortable tonight, which made it really frustrating about not being able to sleep.
He got up and silently walked out to the kitchen. Opening the door he selected his favorite midnight drink. After a generous swig he replaced the cap why bother with a glass? And put it back. Slowly he wandered back to the bedroom.
The mission had not gone quite as he had hoped. In fact it had almost turned into a vacation. It really took him by surprise how things had developed. He pondered this as he returned to the bed.
The feminine figure beside him stirred. With a soft sleepy purr, she put her arm across his chest and snuggled in to his chest. He slipped his arm under her head and around her shoulders and he pulled her a little closer.
Yes, the bed was particularly warm and cozy tonight.
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Post by DeathFrog on Dec 20, 2007 23:28:43 GMT -5
M’ress closed the com link.
Chuut had a way of making everything seem like high Priority. The conversation had been brief; it was just a reminder of certain supplies that were needed. We he had asked why Chuut didn’t remind him before his last mission to save a trip, he was reminded the mission was covert and he hadn’t filed a plan or landing permits.
M’ress winced. That was true. So much for his expediency.
Looking over the upcoming mission schedules he noted that there were several non-critical ones in the area of Stars End. Hmmm this would be a good chance to run some escort and break in some new crew.
Including a certain potential paramour of his younger sister. M’ress smiled at himself; drone duty on Karbins ship was certainly tempting, but far too cruel. However, drone duty on his own ship…
He smiled. That idea had much appeal. But then the thought hit him. What to do about Tr'rin?
She had proven to be quite efficient after all. But after two failed assistants he wasn't in the mood to take chances.
A plan started to formulate.
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Post by DeathFrog on Dec 26, 2007 19:13:11 GMT -5
After issuing the orders to transfer the young officer, M’ress looked up the comlink address for Kayleen. It was actually in the same city as he was now. That would explain why she contacted him. He started to tap in the address but then he paused.
What would he say? What would she say? What would he wear? Did she know what path his career took? Unconsciously his paw wandered up to his patch and started to rub the outer socket with the palm. What would she think about this?
He sat, staring at the comlink, with the address half entered. Doubt filled his thoughts. It had been ten years since he even went out on a date. What was it like? How much had things changed? Did the males still pay for everything or had female rights progressed to the point where it was choice now? What should he wear? He only had uniforms and fatigues now. He started to understand how the young officer he had just transferred must have felt. He was caught between a t’kzintar and an offal. Here he was Patriarch of an elite Military fleet with hundreds (maybe dozens) at his command and he couldn’t even make a decision about a date. His mind searched for an answer.
The idea popped into his head that he could call her and set the date which would give him time to get something casual. Yeah, that would work. He finished entering the code and then added the option for voice only.
As he waited for the connection, he saw the PADD with his itinerary for the next couple of days. Oh sthondat! He suddenly realized that he had no openings for a dinner date over the next couple of nights. He was reaching for the Comlink disconnect button when a soft feminine voice floated over the channel.
“Hello?”
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Post by DeathFrog on Dec 26, 2007 19:13:42 GMT -5
He was mortified. Kayleen had answered his call before he had chance to hang up. As a result he had to agree to a dinner tonight, in about 2 hours. He slumped in his chair.
“I’d rather face a hundred Hydran Hornets.” He thought to himself in despair. “Or face a dozen Klingon B10’s. Even Kroma in heat! No… strike that. That would be too much” The only clothes available were in that duffel bag that Tr’rin had removed. The dress uniform he kept on hand in his office would certainly attract too much attention. He looked down at his day to day uniform. While it had rank, insignia, and designation, it did not have the rest of the decorations he’d earned. They were on the dress uniform.
It would have to do. Not too noticeable, but yet it displayed who he was. Yes that would be good. He drew deep breath of relief… and then held his nose. No it wouldn’t. He tapped the console.
“Tr’rin, can you bring back that duffel bag?” There was a pause.
“Ummm… no sire. It was just picked up by the cleaner.” M’ress swore under his breath. “Pardon me sire?”
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” And he closed the channel.
Great. There he was about to have his first date in ten years and he didn’t have anything to wear. There was only one thing left to do.
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Commander Malex
Backyard Yowler
SAY HELLO TO MY LITTLE FRIEND! "Kat-Of-Endless-Droning"
Posts: 881
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Post by Commander Malex on Dec 27, 2007 0:39:49 GMT -5
Hmmmmmmm..............
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Post by DeathFrog on Dec 27, 2007 21:02:28 GMT -5
LMAO, dont worry, it wont be what you think.
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Post by DeathFrog on Dec 29, 2007 15:55:25 GMT -5
Precisely 5 minutes after M’ress had called back, Tr’rin proceeded down the outer hallway to his office.
The callback had been most unusual. Not in the sense that it was the second call, he was after all a busy officer with a lot on his mind, but more so what he’d asked her to do.
1 hour cleaning service that delivered? But she had already sent out the duffel bag.
The door hissed open. Sitting on top of the desk was a badly folded heap of clothes. A pile that looked very familiar. She confirmed her suspicions when she lifted the top garment. That meant… Off to the side of the office, she could hear the ultrahigh whine of a sonic shower start up.
She hesitated. Looking at the clothes in her hand and then to the door, she wondered. She had recognized at least one name on his itinerary. Dewey, Cheetum and Howe, the notorious divorce lawyers. Her she was, in the office of a high ranking officer who was practically single and naked! What to do? After all, he was pretty good looking (except for that patch) and in good shape.
She shook her head. What was she thinking? He was her boss. She hefted the pile and went back to her desk.
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Post by DeathFrog on Dec 29, 2007 15:56:13 GMT -5
M’ress arrived a full 15 minutes early for dinner. He was so nervous that he paced outside for 5 minutes and was still early. Tr’rin had pulled off a minor miracle and not only had his casual uniform cleaned and pressed but she had managed to conjure a suitable after scent. (Ever known a Kzin to shave?)
The maitre d was just inside the door and immediately stiffened at the site of the uniform.
“Reservashun?” the maitre d asked in a snooty overtone that was unmistakable. His heart sank, in all his blundering he had forgotten all about reservations. And this maitre d didn’t look like the friendly accommodating type.
In reality the maitre d hated the appearance of military types. They were usually pushy and threw their weight around, trying to force their way in without a reservation. This officer didn’t look so sure of himself, however, and actually looked nervous.
“I… uhhh, don’t have… one.” M’ress faltered. “How long… ahme… until a table could be… uhhh… ready?”
If the host was surprised, he hid it well. (In fact he was totally shocked. This officer was actually being polite.) He was very experienced and accustomed to handle such situations. With a great exaggerated sigh, he took his time perusing the non-existent waiting list.
“I might hav somzink for joo in a ‘our.” If his heart sank before, it downright bottomed now. The maitre d took out his pen. “Namuh please.”
“M’ress.”
The maitre d froze. There was no mistaking the hesitation this time. Something alarmed him.
“Cum agin?” Even the look of disbelief couldn’t be concealed.
“M’ress.” He repeated. The maitre d muttered something that sounded like d**n. Then he looked up and said,
“Rright ‘zis way. Your table iz waitink.”
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Post by DeathFrog on Jan 2, 2008 19:15:54 GMT -5
Table iz waitink?!?!
The maitre d fumbled for a second behind the screen for a brief moment. Then he led the way into the restaurant.
M’ress didn’t follow, it was his turn to be stunned. After a moment the Maitre d reappeared and cleared his throat. M’ress started to follow slowly.
With his warrior senses alerted he became very aware of everyone and everything in the dining area. From the stiff backed waiters taking orders, to the overdone busboys cleaning empty tables (there were too many empty tables to have a “waiting list”), to the clink and rattle from the kitchen, even to the soft live musicians off to one side playing an old but favorite song (what was it again? “Isn’t it romantic…”, humph too bad the feds butchered it with that screeching they called singing). Above all that he noticed that most of the males, the ones that weren’t with mates, all seemed to be trying to inconspicuously ogle in the same direction.
It wasn’t until he was halfway across the restaurant that he realized the maitre d was leading him in the direction they were staring wistfully. He rounded a rather large decorative, and fake, plant and saw what they were staring at.
It was her.
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Post by DeathFrog on Jan 2, 2008 19:16:25 GMT -5
It was as if he had gone back in time twenty years. He recognized her immediately as she had hardly changed at all.
Her long dark fur was teasingly brushed over to one side, partly covering one of a pair of large bright blue eyes. Her ears were smallish (or was it a trick of the fur styling) with rounded tips. Since she was sat sideways at the table he could her figure and legs fully. He stopped. It was almost a sure bet that even twenty years later, she could still wear her high school modeling clothes. In fact he thought he could vaguely remember seeing this particular dress before. He looked closer. Yes, one could not forget the way it slit partway up the thigh.
Kayleen was fussing with the napkin from the table and not paying attention. Obviously she was nervous too. So nervous that she seemed completely oblivious to all the stares she was attracting and to his approach.
It suddenly struck him how awkward he felt. Even though his uniform was pressed, he was freshly cleaned and had used his breath freshener, he still felt very awkward. She had never seen the uniform, or the eye patch or the scars that adorned various visible areas. How would she react?
* * * * *
As far as M’ress was concerned, the rest of the evening was a disaster. It was his turn to be as nervous as Tr’rin was during her interview. He even had a glass of water shoot out of his hand and almost into Kayleens’ lap. However, he did feel much better when she did the same thing immediately after when she jumped to avoid the projectile water.
That seemed to break the ice a bit, but the rest of the evening was still strained. Despite the candid conversation like old times and a welcome familiarity, there was still an underlying sense he could not shake.
Fear, from both of them.
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Post by DeathFrog on Jan 5, 2008 12:15:24 GMT -5
The next 4 days were busy. Organized, but very busy. Tr’rins itinerary held up rock solid under the pressure of constant updates, revisions and scrutiny.
As promised the first day was reading and resting. Progress reports on the war and homeworld security were all waiting for him in chronological order. They alone took most of the day just to read. The evening was consumed in answering or evaluating. Sleep came easy that night.
Day Two were all the high ranking meetings. He hated these meetings. They were so mind numbingly boring that they sapped everything right out of you. Most of the information contained within these meetings he already knew. He was just there as a formality to verify how things were operating. If it were possible he would have painted an eye on his lid to fake paying attention while he slept.
It was during this lull that his mind wandered to his dinner date.
When the waiter reached the table, he stood beside her for a moment and then cleared his throat. Kayleen had been staring at the napkin and hadn’t noticed his approach. She looked up from under her eyebrows, and if she hadn’t been so nervous, it would have been very fetching. When she looked over to him her eyes widened as they roved over the uniform and came to rest on the patch.
M’ress could stare down the most hardened of Warriors. But the minute her eyes fell on him he became very self-aware of the patch and unconsciously turned his head to block the view. Sensing his apprehension she looked away and offered her hand in greeting.
Awkward was a very generous word to describe the situation. She too was recently divorced and struggling to rediscover herself. She had heard he’d entered the military, but admitted she didn’t understand the insignia. When he explained, she was incredulous. When he described how he got the patch, speechless.
The talked for a long time, well into the night. While he found himself enjoying it immensely (especially after the spilled drinks), there was still the underlying tension.
“What do you think Sire?”
The question snapped him back to the present. Fortunately he had heard enough of the conversation to provide and answer that didn’t make it look like he was daydreaming.
Day Three was certainly easier as it was all briefings, so he started on updating orders. Including a flight path to Stars End. This was where his plans for Tr’rin started to take shape.
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Post by DeathFrog on Jan 5, 2008 12:15:55 GMT -5
The best part about working for the Patriarch was that she could set her own hours. Not that she would skimp and cut them short. But if she needed to adjust for a day due to an appointment, it was easily accommodated.
However, when he was in the office, it was the busiest time she’d ever known, so many people coming and going and so much paperwork. The different races astounded her, she’d read about them and heard rumors, but never actually seen any of them.
The Hydrans were still a mystery. Due to their environment suits she still hadn’t actually seen one. But they were polite enough.
She could not believe the Romulans though. Even when they stood right on front of her, they still denied they were even there.
Humans were interesting. Their ways were completely baffling to her and what was with that smiling all the time? On M’Raa, a challenge like that could get you killed.
The biggest surprises were the Gorns. Did they really all wear those gaudy Tutus?
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