"So, what is your assessment of the Banshees, now that you've worked with them for a while?" Commodore Rick Hunter had just listened to Captain Matthew Cross' report of the capture of Vincent Kelly and the uncovering of the Jelly Brain's soul-stealing ring, and he was curious how the new CO felt about the maverick fighter squadron.
Cross had no qualms about telling the Commodore exactly how he felt. "They disobeyed my direct orders, damaged Starfleet property, endangered themselves, and conspired with civilians," he said stonily. "Commander Carter has a singular lack of respect for Starfleet procedures and the chain of command, and her squad shares that attitude in spades. They are constantly breaking the rules whenever they feel they are right--" Cross' granite facade cracked into a thin smile "--and I'm glad they're on our side!"
"Ah," said Hunter, relieved. "I take it then, that your report to Starfleet HQ regarding the Banshee Project will be a favorable one."
Cross nodded. "The members of Banshee Squad are intelligent and resourceful, and fiercely loyal to each other. Despite their antiquated wild-west methods, they get results. I certainly wouldn't want to command a fleet of officers like that in the Federation core worlds, but one fighter wing definitely comes in handy, especially out here on the frontier where unconventional approaches are a plus."
"Mmm," was Hunter's only reply, but silently he agreed with Cross' assessment. "Anything else?"
"Well, sir..." began Cross, this time a definite smirk curling up the corner of his mouth, "If I were you I'd get on the comm with whoever designed their new flight suits..."
"Why? Don't they like the quantum fiber or something?"
"Oh no, they love the programmable material just fine, sir. But they've vowed bloody revenge on the nitwit who thought it would be sexy to put spiked heels on their boots!"
Hunter chuckled at the sudden mental image of some hapless fashion designer back on Earth being pummeled to death by a crowd of angry women wielding four-inch spiked heels in their hands. "A man no doubt," he said. "I'll see what I can do."
"Glad to hear it," said Cross. Then his face turned serious again. "There is one more thing that worries me though, sir."
Hunter nodded knowingly, for he suspected it was the same thing that was bothering him. "Vincent Kelly's other hideout."
"Before he lost his mind, Kelly told Commander Carter that the Jelly Brain's operations were being moved to a new location."
"Any idea where that is?" asked Hunter.
Cross shook his head. "Kelly was loading his stolen life crystals onto a short-range transport, so the other base might be somewhere in this system.
"Unless of course he was planning on transferring over to a larger vessel," pointed out Hunter.
"Exactly. It could be anywhere."
Commodore Hunter leaned back in his chair and thought about it for a little while. "I'll issue a general order that all Starfleet units should keep an eye out. Maybe we'll get lucky and someone will stumble across it."
"I hope so, sir," replied Cross. "I hate to think there was another Jelly Brain out there stealing people's souls just to snack on."
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