From: Gershon <jrbowman@london2.skn.net>
Date: Sat, 28 Jun 1997 11:40:44 -0500
Subject: USS CHESAPEAKE:  Who Gives a Rattus Astrus?

MD 9.0800
OPS Office

        If there were a large enough rock to crawl under, Stavay would.
First, it was bad enough that the OPS officer was angry.  She had
never seen him this angry before.  He always carried that, "I'm crazy,
so nothing bothers me" mood so well that no one could ever imagine
th'Tellan in a less than amiable mood.  

        Next, he was Romulan.  That should have been beside the point but
Stavay had had bad experiences with Romulans.  She almost expected him
to bring out the rack.

        th'Tellan began to calm down, his Vulcan side returning.  "Look, just
tell me why you ran after it and we'll forget the whole thing."

        "Well...it was a space rat."

        "I see," answered th'Tellan, "but you know, that's beside the point.
What would make you dirty your hands with a space rat?"

        "This requires a long explanation, Sir."  She began to compose the
explanation in her mind, but could tell that th'Tellan was losing his
focus for some reason.  Was he bipolar?  What?

	The Counsellor studied th'Tellan further.  "Is there anything else
bothering you."

	"No, it's just that...."  th'Tellan sighed.  "No, I'm all right.  Just
a little stressed, I suppose.  It's been a rough couple of days."

        "Do you care to tell me about it?", asked the Counselor.

        "I'd rather not.  I'd rather hear what you have to say first."  Oh,
dear.  *Isn't that the way it always is?*, thought Stavay.  *If I were the
Communications Officer or the Biology Officer, or any other officer,
it would be a different story.  But if the **Counselor** wants to know how
you're doing, everyone wants to clam up.  You'd think people would be more
likely to open up to the Counselor, not less likely.*

        "All right.  This requires -- "

        " -- a long explanantion," th'Tellan finished without smiling.

        "Very well.  I've had a lot of experience with Space Rats.  At
Shrevashal City on Shrevashal, there is a very large spaceport.  The largest 
on the planet, to tell you the truth.  I grew up in Shrevashal City, so
I used to spend time at the spaceport...."

        "Uh, Counselor, will I be seeing Ripley or Scarlett anytime during
this story?"

        She knew the first woman but not the second.  "No, Sir."

        "Then skip it and get to the good parts."

        "Anyway, I've had a lot of experience with space rats.  All kind.
From the clean white ones like the one on this ship to the really ugly
black ones that infest the sewage depots planetside.  The last kind were
to be avoided; the first kind were to be eaten."

        th'Tellan wrinkled his nose.  "And you were looking for a light snack?"

        "Hardly.  The first kind are usually tamer.  They've lived their
lives in relatively clean enviroments without natural predators and all the
food they can steal out of a cargo bay.  You can usually sneak up on them,
because they're not very keen thinkers.  When I was seven or eight, we 
used to go rat hunting, for food and for fun.  It's not the first time I've
killed a space rat."
        
        "And when was the *last* time you killed a space rat?", asked
th'Tellan.

        "Uh...about twelve years ago."  The Counselor was quite visibly
embarrased.

        "I see.  Well, this one almost killed *you*.  I found a phaser
with the casing nibbled through.  Can you imagine how many pounds per 
square inch jaw strength this beast has to have?  Enough to turn your
arms and your hands into pretzel sticks.  Counselor, you were 
overconfident."

        "I left a message with Engineering and Science, Sir."

        "Yes.  But you left it on the PADD of the Officer of the Day of each
department.  The OD receives several messages during a shift."  th'Tellan
grabbed his own commpin from his uniform.  "Now, here is a more *appropriate*
way to deal with the problem."  th'Tellan pretended to activate his
pin.  He shouted into the pin.  "Science?  Security?  HEEEEEELLLLLLLPPPPPPPP!!!"

        Stavay sniffed, "I *hardly* think that's appropriate behavior, Sir."

        "Well, it's a lot more appropriate than wandering around
the ship at 0100 looking to whomp rats.  Next time, leave pest control to
the experts.  I trust you have been warned?"

        "Yes, Sir," muttered Stavay.

        "Good.  Next time the CHESAPEAKE decides to serve rat sandwiches,
the commissary will notify you.  Otherwise, leave the driving to us.
Okay?"  The inflection on the last word indicated that the conversation was
over.

        "Sir."  With that, Stavay walked out the OPS office, feeling quite
embarrassed.

**********************************

Outside the door, Stavay felt that ringing in her ears again.  It was
not so much ringing as a loud pitched whine.  She cupped her hands over
her ears.  The ringing was gone as soon as she lifted her arms.  It was
nothing serious enough to require the attention of an MD.  But it might,
soon.

*********************************

Respectfully submitted,

James Bowman
LTJG Stavay Tats-Marush, COUNS
USS SUFFOLK
jrbowman@london2.skn.net

All:  Well, you would have gotten a GCD if th'Tellan hadn't cut the story
short.  You can blame *him*! :)

Melvin:  Testing.

Christine:  I'm sad to say that two members of Rattus Astrus Superior
were killed as a result of the last post.  Both will be given a strict,
but respectful, burial by incinerator after a quick trip to the Biology
Lab to see if they were carrying any infectious diseases....

Masako:  ...they are not, however.  Both rats took showers every day, ate
their vitamins and pumped iron religiously.   They are healthier than any
two officers aboard the CHESAPEAKE, take your pick. 
  

        
 

 

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