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PNPC Ensign Tad Cooper - By the Numbers


Jalana

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(( Starbase 104, Promenade ))

:: Tad stood in the center of the promenade floor, the eye of a storm of bustle and activity. Now that he was here for shore leave instead of on duty he had a chance to really take in some of the sights. He marveled at the sheer number of beings around him, more species than he'd ever seen assembled in one place, and wondered which ones were up to no good. As soon as the thought occurred to him he shook his head as if to dislodge it from his mind. He was here to relax, and maybe grab something to eat. On a station this large it was even possible he'd be able to track down the one thing that had eluded him since he left New Jersey - a really good cheese steak. His eyes scanned the countless shops, booths and kiosks that stretched from one side of the enormous place to the other and gave a contented sigh. It was time to celebrate the previous day's job well done. Nothing was going to get him down. ::

Jordan: Cooper!

:: Every muscle in Tad's body clenched at the familiar voice. He squeezed his eyes shut as if the woman would disappear if he did it hard enough. In truth he knew Jordan wouldn't leave until she'd said her piece, so he decided to get it over with quick, like tearing off a bandage. He forced himself to relax and slowly turned. He was greeted by the expected sight of the woman combining a standard Starfleet security uniform with a ten-gallon hat, cowboy boots and her unique star-shaped combadge. When he spoke, he did his best to not sound like he'd rather be anywhere else. ::

Cooper: What can I do for you, Deputy?

Jordan: A word.

Cooper: oO Here we go. Oo Certainly.

Jordan: I hear you helped apprehend some suspected terrorists recently.

Cooper:  That's right. Not just me though, I had some backup.

Jordan: It was, what, a 10-28?

Cooper: ::A look of surprise crossed his face.:: You know police codes?

Jordan: I'm in law enforcement, right?

:: Technically all security personnel were in law enforcement, but the only other Starfleet officer he'd met so far who knew police codes was Captain Rajel. And she only knew because one of her symbiont's past hosts was a police officer. ::

Cooper: How did you know I was a cop?

::Even through her mirrored shades it was obvious Jordan rolled her eyes. ::

Jordan: Please.

:: Tad grimaced at the thought of being so transparent. Then again, Jordan had already proven to not be your average security officer. ::

Cooper: It turned out to be a 10-28, but I was responding to a 10-26 from some of our engineers.

:: Jordan crossed her arms and raised her chin, looking at Tad down her nose. ::

Jordan: Ah hah. And I suppose it was a 10-22?

Cooper:  Well, no, more like a 10-83.

Jordan: I see. I was wondering, because you didn't announce your presence to any of my staff.

Cooper: I was under the impression that the base requested assistance from our ship.

Jordan: We requested engineering help, not security.

Cooper: ::defensively::  Now wait a minute. The first time I came on board you told me I could operate here so long as I didn't interfere with base operations.

Jordan: Exactly. The first time. That don't give you permission to just come to South End whenever you want and play patrolman. Not on my station and not on my watch. Do I make myself clear?

:: A bead of sweat rolled down Tad's temple and he straightened his back involuntarily, as if standing at attention. He hadn't had s dressing down like that since the academy. ::

Cooper: Affirmative.

:: Seemingly satisfied by his answer, Jordan once again relaxed her stance and stuffed her hands into her uniform pockets. ::

Jordan: Good. ::sigh:: Look, you did good work. Truth is my team was stretched thin during the talks, and I do appreciate the help. Just make sure you give me a 10-1 next time or I'll 10-86 you so fast your head'll spin.

:: Tad grinned despite himself. ::

Cooper: 10-4. And thank you, Deputy.

Jordan: Cooper! One more thing.

:: Tad had turned to leave, but Jordan's call made him turn back. ::

Jordan: 1800.

Cooper: ::His brow creased.:: I'm...actually not familiar with that code.

Jordan: It's not a code. It's when I get off duty.

:: Tad's eyebrows shot upward as if trying to escape his face. ::

Cooper: Ah, I'm not sure....

Jordan: Because at 1900 you're takin' me to the Klingon barbecue place on level 7.

Cooper: Ah...Klingon...barbecue?

Jordan: ::She shrugged without removing her hands from her pockets.:: It ain't cow, but it's close. Besides, it's the least you could do.

Cooper: I, ah....

Jordan: ::turning serious again:: The very. Least.

:: Tad knew there was no talking his way out of it, so he bit the bullet and gave in. ::

Cooper: ::nodding:: 1900, understood.

Jordan: Good. ::She spun on her heel and strode away across the promenade, causing the small crowd of curious onlookers that had gathered around them to suddenly remember they had somewhere else to be. She called out once more over her shoulder as she left.:: Don't be late!

:: Tad let his head loll back, gazing open-mouthed toward the ceiling, and wondered why he didn't just stay on the ship. ::


(( OOC: List of police codes: http://wiki.starbase118.net/wiki/index.php/Tad_Cooper/Police_Codes ))

PNPC Ensign Tad Cooper
Security officer

Simmed by

Lieutenant JG Jerome Milsap
Assistant Chief Medical Officer
USS Constitution-B
C239208JM01

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