C.T. Caine

::feral smile:: I firmly intend to, Commander.

Caine maneuvered the shuttle into landing position just outside the border of Corianis's violence-plagued capital city and at once caught sight of the golden-furred Caitian XO of the Agincourt standing on the hard-packed dirt of the colony world. For a moment, Caine was tempted to reverse thrusters and climb back skyward; the idea of a patrol flyover in cramped quarters with the Cait was more than the half-Vulcan, even in her most generous moments, would have been capable of qualifying as a "good time." Orders were orders, of course, but Caine could think of much better uses for her time. Jabbing needles under her fingernails, for instance. Hell, she could have been better occupied doing the work on the surface which JoNs had for whatever reason chosen to take over instead -- and blown with a flair for the dramatic. Nearly an entire squad of Caine's people had been thrown into unnecessary jeopardy in order to protect the Cait after she had wandered off the mission specs in the middle of a combat zone. Elegantly idiotic, Commander. I commend you on your sense of style. As the autopilot took over, Caine let her hand rest gently on the phaser pistol hanging off her hip. Perhaps there is a certain benefit to getting the Cait into enclosed quarters for a short period of time. She shook her head slightly. No. Orders were orders, and at any rate, Caine had no intention of pulling anything so...unsubtle -- not yet. Her hand moved from the pistol to the control console, tapping the hatch at the rear of the shuttle open to allow JoNs inside. Commander Kansas 'Will' JoNs had been standing off to one side of the landing zone, waiting for Lieutenant C.T. Caine to set the recon shuttle down on solid ground before she began her approach to the vehicle. Her bodyguard, Lieutenant Mical, had gone off duty for the cycle shift, and JoNs saw no need to employ another personal guard during upcoming patrol run; the felinoid had confidence that Mister Caine would not try anything quote, unquote, stupid. Orders and required procedures aside, the Caitian senior officer wasn't exactly thrilled about sharing a patrol run with 'Junior' Caine; the half-Vulcan security chief was subtly prickly at best, and obsessed with protocol and procedures at her worst. To be stuck on a small enclosed shuttle cockpit for a couple of hours with her was not something the feline was overly thrilled about however. Regardless, JoNs was required as XO to do regular patrol flyovers of the planet as the rioting situation was brought under control, and Caine had been next up on the duty roster as pilot. The shuttle patrol stint gave Kansas an opportunity however, and it was something that she was prepared to use and exploit to her advantage: nose about, and found out what exactly Caine knew. The felinoid first officer had initially deviated from an established patrol pattern to satisfy her own curiosity. Oh, her curiosity had been satisfied all right, right smack into a group of local reprobates waiting to spring an ambush on the 'Court security patrols. So, yes, JoNs had deflected a possible attack on Caine and her patrol squad, but the fact still remained that the Cat still wanted to get a sense of where the half Vulcan stood on the logistics of the incident so to speak, and if she suspected that the initial deviation was linked to possible illegal activities on the part of JoNs. Will swiftly and surely made her way up the rear boarding hatch, her long uniform coat flapping and billowing and catching the air as she moved through it; she had chosen to wear the not often used coat due to the sandy and dusty wind that occasionally ripped trough the surface of the Corianis colony world. The black coloring of the coat matched the coloring of her uniform trousers, and her sleeveless red command tunic offered a contrasting color tone. Her weapons utility belt and holster was worn low on one hip, and her paw rested lightly on her usual weapon: a scaled down plasma shot gun modified for hand weapon use. Kansas would never, ever, be full of herself enough to strike a pose or demand attention, it just wasn't in her nature to be a command diva and probably never would be. She had come very, very close to that sort of cocky-ness just after taking on the posting as the 'Courts First Officer, and the ships commanding officer had just about knocked JoNs clear into the next sector as a result; the Caitian officer had no desire to ever repeat that sort of situation ever again. But, her comfortable outward bearing combined with the uniform and weapons spoke volumes to anyone who knew what to look for or how to read the signs: bad ass feline Imperial officer incoming, boo yah. The leonine feline easily and efficiently moved the short distance through the shuttle towards the co-pilots chair and console set within the cockpit section along side Caine's main piloting controls. "What's our status Lieutenant Caine? Any change in the population patterns since the last patrol run by third shift?" A curious ear flipped back, and the green slit cat eyes that she fixed on the Vulcan officer were alert, intelligent, and decidedly feral. "Change in patterns?" Caine responded coolly, not looking away from her console as she heard the XO's voice behind her. "Well, they are certainly taking pains to ensure that their population is decreasing with every change of shift. Beyond that...the situation remains more or less the same." Tapping the controls again, she let the hatch slide shut with a firm thunk, then reengaged the thrusters, lifting the shuttle cleanly from the ground. Caine was not a pilot by trade, but she knew how to move without wasted movement, and that applied to vehicles as well as herself. "Take a seat...Commander." JoNs merely made a purred grunt in agreement at the junior officer's assessment and followed through on the suggestion to take a seat; the feline easily slipped into the co-pilots chair and with a practiced eye checked out the various status consoles that showed the progress of the shuttles systems. While also not a pilot by trade, Kansas had grown up on a Caitian clan ship and had watched over the Helm any number of times; at the academy, she had taken enough courses to quality as a shuttle and backup starfighter pilot. She was comfortable enough in a cockpit that it showed in her own movements. The felinoid had served with a good many officers and enlisted in her time. Some were full on rules and regs, some were aggressive, others were disciplinarians or consummate professionals, still others had a sort of slow and easy command style. She spared a glance over at Caine, who could at times revert into the 'stiff necked' sort of line officer. Nothing wrong with that really, as the Vulcan was definitely confident within the administration of her department, but being stiff necked did have the potential to hamstring an otherwise promising career. Well now, the best way to deal with a stiff necked officer was sometimes the direct approach. Shake 'em up a bit and get them out of their comfort zone. The ships XO glanced over to the older female security chief. "So, Lieutenant Caine. I deviated from the ground patrol course you and your squad had been completing the other day and I had been observing. I had a lead on a possible business contact located in the nearby market sector, and proceeded to investigate to get a visual read. What I actually found though was a skulking group of Corianis miners prime for an ambush that was most definitely going to be directed at your security teams, I commed your team -- you may recall that as my rather excited 'move your rear ends' message -- and it was deflected due to the interference of your patrol. Isn't that an interesting story?" Felines, of all species, could either be very sneaky and stealthy, or all up in your face when they wanted something; JoNs as a Caitian feline was no exception. A half smirk was plastered across her muzzle, but it wasn't unkind, just mischievous. The deviation from orders and patrol route would drive the Vulcan woman nuts, let alone the little tidbit about the ambush. Nuts. Caine's jaw tightened as JoNs burst out with a line of blunt, smirking rhetoric. It was an obvious attempt at tactical debate; take the enemy's points from them by addressing them yourself before they can. Clearly the Cait felt herself in the right because her lack of discipline unworthy of a first-year imperial cadet had perhaps unwittingly given them a slight tactical advantage. Caine knew better. Such an action could just as easily have gotten them all killed, and the simple fact that it had worked this time was entirely irrelevant. And, of course, there was the simple fact that it was the Cait doing the talking -- she had given Caine and her team a hell of a mess to clean up and hadn't even had the decency to take a shot in the gut to make it worth everyone's while. No...she was not in the right, and her complacent attempt to shove the event in Caine's face was infuriating. She wanted to make Caine angry, wanted to drive a reaction out of her, leading eventually to a submission to JoNs's tactical authority. Caine had no intention of giving her anything of the sort. So she kept her face completely still, the cold tone designed to exasperate the impulsive Caitian commander. "Indeed. Fascinating." Kansas busied herself checking the backup thruster control programs as well as the status console of the proximity sensors per standard shuttle operating procedures. An ear flipped back, but she maintained her focus on the update programs as they scrolled across her co-pilot's screen while she spoke to Caine. "You know, I've found that our line of work in both Security and the line officer capacity is not, and never has been, an exact science. One tactical engagement will never play out in the way that you think the engagement will, nor will it match a past skirmish exactly point for point. But, I defer to your field knowledge as you've been serving longer then I have … have all your field skirmishes gone exactly according to plan Caine? Aldebaran II aside, because we're both well aware that Aldebaran did not go according to your plans … as you keep randomly and subtley reminding me even though I had nothing to do with the actual engagement, other then through my genetic blood ties." You defer to my knowledge...of course...Caine thought sardonically. She was not stupid; JoNs would no more defer to Caine's experience than Caine would defer to her authority. The dig at the Aldebaran incident was simply an attempt to add insult to injury, and she ignored it pointedly, but as for the first bit... "Nothing of course goes exactly as planned," she responded icily. "But generally the random variable is expected to come from the other side of the equation. I do not enjoy having to guess my own team's movements while trying to predict the enemy's at the same time." "Well, I believe you just put forth the primary job description of a patrol scout point man. I'm a felinoid -- I need to scout out my area, see what's going on. My methods haven't changed much since I moved up in my assignment rank. I'm sure I could have stayed with your team, and then the miners would have worked around behind us." JoNs's tone was matter of fact. "But then again, the insurrectionists were and are not professionals, so that might not have happened. We'll never know." Caine said nothing. This was a waste of energy, time, and attention. JoNs was too stubborn to believe she might possibly be in the wrong, and Caine was not going to give her the satisfaction of watching her CSEC butt heads with her fruitlessly. At any rate that wasn't the aspect of this that Caine had a feeling was important. The Cait had made one slip in her earlier blithe description of the incident in question -- she had mentioned that her departure from the situation involved a business deal, and there was no way in which that could be twisted to seem relevant to their mission, however how hard she might try. No matter...Caine could pursue that lead on her own time, perhaps determine what information was to be found on business dealings in that area of the city, and submit her own report to Harper. No need to continue this game. So she simply let her lips twitch in an unruffled smirk and looked away, not even giving the Cait the satisfaction of a response, focusing in on the console in front of her. Kansas didn't claim to know what Caines personal methods as an Intelligence agent were like. If she had survived this long in the business, then she must be good or the agency would have cut her loose years ago. And, again, based on the half-Vulcan woman's general day to day running of the Agincourt Security division, the woman was competent. Competency didn't make up for the attitude problem though, and Caine had a big one shadowing her. She made the Irish grudge look positively dull by comparison with that icy cold Vulcan side combined with her Human ire. It was possible that, dislike for JoNs aside, the Lieutenant's stiff backed outlook regarding protocol and procedures was why she wasn't spearheading her own Intel faction by now. Protocol and procedure was all well and good, but thinking outside the box could be worked into that equation, and successfully, as well. JoNs let the obvious conversational snub go for now. There would be an opportunity for any sort of retribution later if Caine were to slip and try the rudeness in public. The shuttle had reached the altitude necessary to do a patrol flyover, and the sleek vessel leveled out under the piloting and co-piloting ministrations of the fiery feline and the ice cold Vulcan. The on board sensors were scanning in three hundred and sixty degrees, and the tracking programs were on full; if any funny business was going on, the shuttle patrol crew would be notified. Corianis was a pretty planet, with mountains and trees and grasslands set across varying sectors on the typical class M world. Granted, the administration guiding the dilithium mining wasn't exactly subtle, and within say one hundred years, the portions of the planet that contained the highest concentration of dilithium would no doubt be reduced to rubble thanks to the strip mining operations favored by the production company. JoNs glanced at a secondary cockpit tracker console when an alert warning blip had sounded in the blue tooth wireless and communications device set in her ear. "Ah, sh*t." The leonine Cait snorted out her delicate light brown nose and pointed a wide golden paw out the forward observation window. "Riot in progress, sensors showing about fifty body heat signatures or so, warehouse district. Let's break out the sleepy time grenade bombs, do a flyover, and drop a few, shall we Lieutenant?" Caine glanced in the direction the Cait was indicating and spotted a rising plume of smoke out of a sector of a city block. Ah, good...time to really go to work. The smile twitched at her lips again but her voice was still cool and businesslike. "Coming about, bearing zero-eight-zero...time to intercept...forty-five seconds. Prepare to release the grenades." "Grenades in the launch tubes, two and three, internal gas release cycle prepped and running, mark. You do the honors Mister Caine. Let's clear the riot area." Caine's expression grew somewhat more focused as a targeting scanner interface popped up in the pilot's console. Heat signatures representing the numerous clashing biosigns all along the block registered in bright red over a blue background, overlayed with the system status of the grenade launchers. "Targets locked," she muttered, her fingers doing a practiced dance over the keypad and releasing the clamps on the grenades. A few seconds later, the moving red dots began to slow, then stop, their signatures weakening as the sleeping gas did its work. "Grenades away," she murmured, for a moment forgetting her conflict with the Commander next to her in the cold satisfaction of a job completed successfully. "Send in the cleanup crew."

Owen was standing in front of the gym, waiting for Caine to turn up; they had agreed to meet at 1800 hours. A glance at his watch told him she was 15 seconds late. Instead of going in and getting ready, he leaned against the bulkhead just outside the gym so Caine wouldn't be able to say he'd had an advantage, though it was her problem that she wasn't on time. Caine trotted down the Agincourt corridor heading for the gym, loosening her muscles for the upcoming fight. The challenge from the marine captain had come at a good time; Caine needed a bit of exercise to work off the strain of the last mission, and it was much more fun when you had a partner. Too, notwithstanding the fact that she had every confidence of being able to take on the younger man, she fully expected a challenge, which she appreciated -- Caine was not the sort to turn down such a challenge when it was offered. She turned the corner, seeing Owen leaning easily against the bulkhead, and raised a hand in greeting. "Evening, Captain." Buddha pushed himself off the bulkhead and snapped a sloppy salute. "Lieutenant." He let her lead the way in. "I'll wipe the floor with you, Junior." Caine shot him an amused look before pushing past him into the room and making for the sparring mats in the far corner. "Don't get too cocky, Buddha," she said, tossing it over her shoulder. "You've never seen me work." "Yup, I'm scared," Owen said with a grin as he took in his surroundings. "Do you need some time to prepare or can we start?" "Warmed up before I came," Caine said casually. "But if you need a little time to put off the inevitable...feel free to take it." She found she was enjoying the repartee immensely; the fact was, with herself so new to her own department, there was no one there with whom she could really afford to set up a good competitive spirit. Her efforts there were focused on team-building, getting to know the men under her. With the marines, however, she need have no such qualms, and she and Buddha already knew each other well enough as a result of the Avaros mission that she had no problem with intending to beat the tar out of him. "I'm always ready for a fight. We can start right now." To be honest, Buddha had warmed up thoroughly before coming to the gym. While his attitude didn't reveal it, he never made the mistake of underestimating an opponent. Caine was half-Vulcan which would give her a bit of an advantage if he wasn't careful. "Any particular rules you prefer?" "I dabble in everything. Name your poison," Caine said, quirking an eyebrow at him. Owen grinned. "Ok, then -- there are only two rules: no weapons, no killing. You OK with that?" Caine considered. "Sounds good to me. I'll try to ensure that you can even show up for work on time." She returned his grin and backpedaled into the center of the floor, dropping her center of gravity into a ready stance, her focus closing in on him. "Right -- you gotta hit me first," Owen said, his grin still firmly in place. Starting to circle Caine, he closely observed her every movement, intent on finding a weak spot. Caine smirked slightly. "I don't think that'll be a problem." Telegraphing her movements as little as possible, she darted forward and went for his collar, going for an opening judo attack and twisting her hips in an attempted shoulder throw. Owen only just managed to avoid the attack. He dodged Caine and aimed a roundhouse kick at her legs. Caine rebalanced as her attack missed, turning and ducking her weight to move with the impact of the kick. She grunted as it knocked into the flesh under her ribcage, and then twisted to grab his leg before he could drop it. Shifting her weight, she twisted to throw him sideways onto his front. Damn! Owen thought as he came down hard on his stomach. Within a second, however, he was back up on his feet, trying to find an opening. Caine laughed as he scrambled back to his feet. "Good start, huh?" she quipped, settling back in her stance and watching him, waiting for him to make the next move. "Don't feel too smug, Junior. I always let the newbies make the first move." As he finished he made a quick move forward but pulled back as Caine reacted instantly and blocked him. "Newbies?!" Caine said with mock-indignation. "I've been doing this since you were still going to the bathroom in your pants, Matthews." She knocked the blow aside and took advantage of the opening in his guard to drive her shoulder into his stomach. Seeing her move coming, Owen dodged Caine's shoulder, twisted to the right and used the momentum to knock her to the ground. Caine "oof"-ed, his fist landing in the small of her back and adding to her own momentum, and she hit the ground hard, rolling. Good one, Buddha. Alright then...time to get serious... She flexed her fingers, the grin fading slightly from her face, being replaced with a look of analytical concentration as she focused, then angled her body around, swinging her feet in a sweep at his legs from where she had landed. There was a move Buddha hadn't seen coming. He had expected it'd take Caine a little longer to recover. He winced slightly as her foot made contact with the side of his left knee and forced him to the ground. Panting, he got back up and started to circle her again to buy some time. Caine was already back on her feet and as he turned to being circling she came up alongside him and grabbed for his arm, pulling it behind his back in a lock and trying to get her other arm around his neck and force him back to a floor hold. Owen used his weight and pushed backwards to knock Caine off her feet. This maneuver made him lose his balance and he came down hard on top of her. Caine groaned as his entire weight struck her, knocking her wind from her as she hit the decking; she brought her knee up into his back, trying to push him away long enough to catch her breath. Owen rolled over to face Caine; sweat was running down his face and back but he was grinning widely. "I hope you don't prefer being on top, Junior." Caine grimaced as his weight shifted but didn't let the taunt faze her. She smirked up at him. "Can't say I haven't made it a habit," she grunted between her teeth and knocked her head hard against his ribcage, then rolled sideways to throw his weight off her and pin him to the ground, stomach down, in her own hold. "Yeah...this is more fun..." she hissed in his ear as she pressed her knee down into his back. "Careful, I like it rough but not like this," Owen panted, trying to figure out a way how to get out of her hold. He simply threw his head upward and hoped he'd catch her off guard. "Hey...you made this bed, you're gonna lie in it," Caine said, her balance thrown slightly as he writhed under her. Owen noticed Caine's weight shift a little as she tried to keep her balance. He reached back with his free arm, grabbed her leg, pulled and threw her off backwards. He hurried to scrambled to his feet before Caine could get back on top of him. Caine hit the ground and her head stuck the deck and she winced, her vision sparking for a second. She panted, trying to catch her breath, and staggered back to her feet as well, swaying slightly, before lashing out with a kick. Matthews was quite a sparring partner, but she wasn't about to give up. Being caught off guard by Caines quick recovery, Owen was too slow to avoid her kick. As he tried to duck under her leg, her foot made contact with his face. The blow knocked him to the ground again and he felt a warm trickle of blood run over his chin. Caine grunted as she felt the satisfying jolt of a solid impact and she looked down to realize that her heel had taken him square in the nose. She took no time to revel in the victory, though, but dived for him, throwing all her weight on top of him as he had done a moment before. Now it was Owen's turn to "oof" as Caine landed on top of him. Still trying to recover from the last blow, Owen shifted his weight slightly and brought his knee up to hit her in the stomach. Caine's momentum onto him was checked abruptly as she took the blow full on in her abdomen, and she wheezed, for a moment completely unable to breathe. She fumbled desperately for his arms, trying to pin him down while she caught her breath. "Best you can do, is it?" she panted. Both of them were starting to feel the effects of this battle; his arms and her palms were both slick with sweat. Owen tried his best to look as smug as possible with blood running out of his possibly broken nose and a formidable bruise starting to spread over the left side of his face. "I haven't really started, yet." He lifted his legs so he could cross his ankles in front of her, caught her head between his thighs and rolled to his side. Caine yelped as her neck was abruptly twisted in the grip of his lower body, and she tried to pull back but found herself trapped, every muscle in her body protesting at the sudden uncomfortable bend in her spine. "You and me both..." she grunted. Certainly not going to give in now... Unable to pull himself from his grip, she went with the twist and let her own body curve around his, hooking her own ankles around his neck and bending him painfully backwards, locking both of them in unpleasant contortion. If I have to go down, you're doing down with me... *** Commander Kansas "Will" JoNs entered the main gym at that moment, intending to get some general workout time in since she was feeling better. The Avaros mission had taken a bit out of her -- not that she'd flat out admit that, but then again, getting fire blasted by a home-grown saboteur computer program in a warehouse tended to wear on a body. The golden-furred feline was wearing black sweatpants that ended just below her knee, and a matching tee-shirt that sported the mission patch of the Agincourt in the center of the chest area. She spared a disinterested glance in the general direction of the sparring mats, caught a flash of marine and security workout attire and had a quick flash of pride; the Agincourt was one of the few snips in the Fleet that had such a high level of integration and co-operation between the jarhead and barnacle contingents, and it was a natural side effect that the individual members of the two departments would co-ordinate some sparring time together. She placed her dark gunmetal-gray-colored gym bag on one of the vacant benches scattered at intervals across the workout expanse and caught the various 'oofs' drifting across the gym common area as the two sparring partners went at one another. She kept one ear trained on the distant fighting match as she reached into her duffel and withdrew her own equipment. But, the problem was that the level of aggression kept ramping on and on, and her sensitive ears were getting, well, an earful of the blow by blow and play by play audio commentary. JoNs fixed her attention more intently on the sparring match, to see if she could get a visual read on the two people that were determined to kill one another or something. Two of the members of the small crowd that had gathered to watch the match jostled their position, and the feline commander spotted Matthews and Caine … and she also spotted the blood spots smearing the mats. Aw Hell. Two of the senior line officers were going at it like that? Blood was not an unknown factor when it came to workout sparring, because it happened. You moved one way, you zigged, your opponent zagged, and boom: a certain mis-calculated (or intended) hit would connect with flesh and the blood would spurt forth. JoNs had been going through some self defensive steps with Chief of Engineering Kairi a while back, and the then senior engineering officer had gotten a lucky shot in on the Cat's nose. And how in the name of the Great Predator Bird could then-Chief of Security Will forget her own mandatory disciplinary training with the 'Courts marine contingent? The orders on down the line had been for the required training to be hard, and it had been, and the Cait had gotten popped several times and lost blood here and there during the sparring sessions. Yet, the times that Colonel Harper and JoNs had done an after shift sparring workout together? No blood had been spilled. So, either the human commanding officer was losing her touch, and her feline Ex Oh highly, highly doubted that, or the Cait had gotten lucky, and Kansas had a feeling that was part of the equation. The other factor of the equation was that both JoNs and Harper both had the sense to recognize what a sparring session was usually employed for: a mutual work out to showcase and upgrade combat skills, not beat the living hell out of one another. The commander muttered a decisive "Okay, time to go into intervention mode …," under her breath, and then bee-lined for the combatants. When she reached the sparring mats, she didn't have to elbow her way in through the crowd to get a position purchase. The officers and crew that had been watching the pell mell match unfold between Caine and Matthews instinctively knew to disperse and go about their own business with the arrival of the ships Ex Oh …. and the look on her face probably hinted at the matters to come anyway. The two of them weren't even wearing any of the protective gear. What the hell are you two doing? Wait, that sounds like a pretty good opening line, so why go all diplomatic? "Buddha, Junior, what the hell are you two doing? And why are you both in that rather … suspect position? I wasn't aware that we had entered the t'Wister game into the sparring workout curriculum." Oh, do I have that command tone? That thing sneaks up on me when I least expect it. Caine tried to snap her head around in the direction of the new voice entering the conversation but ended up with a faceful of Owen's pants leg instead. She knew who it was anyway, though; Commander JoNs did not sound particularly pleased with the direction in which this fight was tending. The logical side of Caine's brain had to agree, of course -- she and Buddha had both been demonstrating tenacity worthy of bull terriers and she had the distinct feeling that one of them would have been unconscious by the time the fight ended. "Mmmmph..." she spluttered, trying to reply but obstructed by constricted air passages and a mouthful of cloth. Owen was lying with his back to JoNs and every attempt to turn around without loosening his grip on Caine was futile. So he just lay there, panting, making sure not to let go of Caine. "We're just having some fun, Commander." Will dropped to her four paws and lowered her leonine head closer to the two officers, her nose and muzzle wrinkling at the smell of sweat and blood that permeated the air surrounding the would-be humanoid pretzels. "Let me put it this way -- if you don't voluntarily disengage from this … position you both have gotten yourselves in, I will disengage you myself and then ream you both in front of the entire gym instead of moving us out into the corridor. Your choice, make it, right now." Well, that was pretty definite, Caine supposed. Matthews had been right -- there'd been no hard feelings except competition here -- but when your XO used that tone of voice, you didn't ignore it. She let her legs release from his neck and angled her body around to relieve the pressure on her neck as Owen's grip on her relaxed. Scooting backwards a foot or so, she got purchase and popped to her feet, swaying a little as she found her balance but then falling into an attention position and glancing around. She quirked an eyebrow at the rapidly dispersing crowd that had gathered to watch the match, and a slight grin twitched at her lips, but her expression otherwise had gone quiet, and she looked towards Kansas as Owen scrambled up beside her. As he got to his feet, Owen grinned and he gave Caine an amused look. "We sure kick ass, Junior," he said with a smirk as he watched the small crowd dissipate. Then he looked at JoNs and her expression made him snap to attention immediately, painfully aware of the blood still trickling out of his nose and down his chin onto his t-shirt. "If you guys are so intent on competitiveness and beating the ever living snot out of one another, then don't use up the sparring facilities," the feline XO said. "Book a three AM session down in the secondary cargo bay, and then the cargo crews can just hose down the deck from the blood gush." Caine resisted the urge to roll her eyes at Owen's casual comment, but he belatedly had picked up on the XO's expression and fallen into line as well. "Yessir," she said crisply to Kansas, shooting him a look sideways. Owen, completely oblivious to how serious the Ex Oh was about this, only just managed to stifle a grin. "You should have joined us, Commander." Paws on hips, the shorter Commander Will scooted over to stand one inch from the deathwishful MCaptain Buddha. Her ears laid flat, and her chin jutted upward. "Quit bleedin' on my deck plating. Go get cleaned up." Her tone was no nonsense, and baleful green eyes flicked sideways to take in Lieutenant Caine's dilapidated appearance as well, "We've had enough ass kicking for today. Dismissed, both of you."

Caine looked up as the door of her office pinged. "Come in." The door slid open to reveal a tall, broad-shouldered crewman in security gold whom Caine did not recognize. He had short black hair and dark eyes and was painfully, gut-clenchingly young; Caine would have pegged him at high school rather than the soldier's rank he apparently carried. He was clutching a PADD as if his life depended on it and caught Caine's eye with a nervous grin before steping forward through the door, snapping to an abrupt stiff-backed attention, and saluting. Caine eyed this performance with some amusement and then glanced down at her own bearing, which was relaxed back in her seat with her feet up on the desk. "Ah...at ease, crewman," she said, swinging her legs down and straightening. "Yessir. Thank you, sir," the crewman said, relaxing his bearing and proffering the PADD towards the half-Vulcan CSEC. "Report on the supply inventory now that everything's stored from the Avaros mission, sir." Caine took the PADD with a nod at him. "Thank you, Crewman...?" "Decatur, sir. David Decatur. Combat and Patrol, Coyote Squad, sir." "Don't think I've seen you around, Mr. Decatur. Pleasure to meet you." God, he was young. Just her looking at him seemed to have him worried. "Ah, thank you, sir. You too, sir," he said, straightening his bearing unconsciously again. Caine raised an eyebrow at him, and then grinned. "Crewman, when I feel the need for you to break your back for me, you'll know about it. No need to do it in advance." "Sorry, sir." "No need to apologize either. Was there something you needed or just dropping this off?" "No, sir. I don't need anything." Decatur shifted his weight from left to right and back again, and his dark eyes dropped to the floor for a moment, then arced back up towards Caine's grey ones. "Well, there was one thing...sir..." "Let's hear it, Crewman." Caine would need to start doing some work at getting her face out there and known among the great unwashed of the Security department, and quick. Wouldn't do to have her men afraid to talk to her. There were days when she had a feeling her Vulcan appearance worked against her in an unfortunate intimidation factor. Decatur still seemed to be debating whether to pose his question or not but finally he spoke. "Is it true what they're sayin', sir? That the Soltans were responsible for that...ground-shaking business on Avaros?" It's true what they say about little pitchers, huh? Caine sighed. She wasn't usually one for participating in the department grapevine but in this particular case, allowing rumors to go haywire might potentially be detrimental or dangerous. Better to give them the word straight if she could. "Bad news travels fast, I guess, Mr. Decatur." Decatur looked crestfallen. Caine eyed him and gave a faint grin. "Disappointed?" The young crewman rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, sir, Spence told me it was the case, sir and I told him he was full of--well, I told him he was wrong, sir, 'cos I figured we woulda been blown up by now if it were true. I guess it was wishful thinking. Sir." Caine shrugged slightly. "In a way you're both right. We didn't see them, we didn't engage them. All we had was a bunch of rabble-rousers who claimed they preferred Soltan rule." She caught Decatur's eye and saw him searching her expression, seemingly astonished at the amount of calm with which she delivered this news. "Collaborators?" he asked, and his youthful voice took on a slightly higher pitch. "After what happened on Earth? That's complete bu--" "Yes, I know," Caine said quietly, and he snapped back to attention at the sudden slight change in her tone. The fact was, Caine was mad as hell, though she knew better than to sound off in front of her subordinates, and the Vulcan self-control in her collared the emotion down to a growl in the lower resonance of her voice. "But it's what we've got, and we'll deal with it when things come to a head." Decatur shifted again. "You think that's gonna be soon, sir?" Caine chuckled. "Not going to give you rumor fodder, Mr. Decatur. The fact is I don't know. But our new Avaros friends have been turned over to Command for questioning; whatever they know, I guarantee you we'll know." She leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers, looking up at the young crewman with an expression of calm determination. "And we will be ready. Any further questions, Mr. Decatur?" Decatur's uncertain expression deepened for a moment as he looked back at her, and then he grinned a little. "No, sir. Thank you, sir." "As you were, then, Crewman."

At least Harvey had been too woozy to bite her again, Caine though with a certain amount of bleak humor as she turned and exited what had become the defacto interrogation tent for the Federation's presence on Avaros. Their irritable looter-cum-terrorist prisoner had proved less than helpful, despite all the effort she and Owen Matthews had put into the process, and since learning that other members of his group had been captured by the Agincourt's Marine contingent, he had clammed up altogether. He had, however, slipped up by providing a single piece of very important certain information which had shaken Caine more than she liked to admit. She let out a long breath as she stepped into the open air outside the cramped tent, then turned to see Buddha as he stepped out behind her. Owen's spirits had risen somewhat when Slick had told him they had captured more terrorists. Harvey had proven a hard nut to crack and so far their efforts had not yielded the desired results. As he stepped out of the tent behind Caine, he noticed her worried expression. "Are you alright, Junior?" Caine grunted. "I've been better. I don't like what we heard in there..." She jerked her head toward the tent behind him. "Or what it implies. If they're working with the Soltan..." Her voice trailed off and she grimaced. "I'd hoped to have more time before I had to deal with them again." "Oh, I'd hoped I'd never have to deal with them again. But I guess we can't always have what we wish for." Buddha was trying to think of something to say to cheer her up but it wasn't easy. He didn't know what exactly Caine's previous experiences with the Soltan had been like but pretty much everyone from Earth had lost someone during the attack. Caine grinned faintly and rubbed the back of her neck. "Never figured they wouldn't be back for a repeat performance one of these days. That would have been...illogical..." She quirked one eyebrow up and then shrugged, beginning to walk along the corridor between the tents in the general direction of their makeshift "brig" area. "But I'd never have thought it'd be like this. Collaborators..." She made a "pah!" noise, a dry spit, conveying a complete distaste for the entire idea. Owen knew how she felt. He couldn't believe anyone would help the Soltans either. However, there were always people collaborating with the bad guys to achieve their own petty goals. To some, apparently the means didn't matter. "I know what you mean. I actually feel like beating some sense into them." He paused and sat down on a crate that was standing between two tents. "I lost my entire family during the attack...or rather what was left of it." Caine checked her step and turned to see him sit down, and her expression tightened, her pointed eyebrows drawing together in a sympathetic expression. "I'm so sorry, Buddha..." she said quietly. "That must have been...horrific." He looked up at her and shrugged. "I try not to think about it. You know, first the Gideon then my family...gee, I'll need a good shrink someday." Owen chuckled, trying to hide his emotions. Caine puffed a half-snort out through her nose. "Twenty years from now there'll be a lot of aging Soltan-era officers having group therapy, I think," she said dryly. She knew, vaguely, of the ship which had been destroyed in the Agincourt's Perseus Arm mission prior to the attack on Earth, though she had not known that that Matthews had come from it. She shook her head slightly and let her hand drop to his shoulder for a moment and squeeze before releasing. Her eyes drifted up towards the sky, now darkening as evening approached; she could spot a small moving light drifting parallel to the southern horizon -- Agincourt. She wondered how soon the little dot was going to have company. "At least this time we've got a little forewarning. We know they're coming, we can prepare." Owen smiled as Cain squeezed his shoulder. Normally he would have made some remark or other but now was not the time; even he knew that. "The question is whether knowing they'll come will actually help, Caine." Caine shot him a sober look. "It'll help. It has to. Anything's better than watching the ground around you saturated with fire and not knowing why..." Owen bit back a sarcastic response as he realized what her last statement meant. "You were on Earth when it happened, weren't you?" Caine was silent for a moment before nodding. "I was in San Francisco -- waiting for my transfer orders back to shipboard duty." Her expression didn't shift but her throat convulsed a little as she swallowed. "I was visiting the Academy campus, actually, while I had the opportunity." Another pause. "Not much left of it now." "I bet. I was in Sydney after the attacks. It was pretty bad. I've seen a lot in my career but I think that was the worst. I mean, it was back home, not just some planet." Caine nodded once. "Yeah...Australia took a hell of a beating...I didn't get to participate in the rescue ops there, they shipped me offplanet, but I hear it was a nasty sight. You're right, too...it was easy to think of Earth as the untouchable center of the Federation. The place we were from as distinct from wherever we happened to be doing good deeds or blowing things up. And then the Soltan came along and reminded us that we had a gut to be kicked in too." The expression of disgust returned again to her face. "I suppose my point is that I'd rather have known what was kicking me at the time." Owen nodded slowly. "It's always easier when you know who's blowing up your home. Although it'd have been nice if we'd have had a chance to fight back. Maybe you're right and this time we'll get the chance. But as likely as not we'll end up facing an enemy with far superior weapons. I'd prefer being on an even footing." Caine glanced at him, and then grinned. "Only an even footing? While we're wishing I'd prefer to be able to kick their rears." "That's the spirit, Junior," Owen said as he jumped to his feet. "Let's go grill those bastards and see what we can find out. Maybe we can prepare a surprise for the Soltans."

Caine's grey eyes squeezed shut in fury and she lashed out with a kick at the young medical officer dressing her wound. "Careful, you idiot! I have to walk on it eventually!" she snapped. The man swallowed and loosened his collar a little bit, the fear of her in his eyes growing deeper. The poor fool did not realize that if she'd really wanted to hurt him she would have done so; the mere fact that her foot had missed suggested that her mind was not really on the threat, but on other, more important things. Her first few weeks as CSEC aboard the Agincourt had been...eventful, to say the least. The Avaros colony situation had more or less exploded rapidly, and while Caine had initially hoped this might be evidence of some new fold of the rebellion plots constantly sizzling at the fringes of the Empire, it had turned out to be nothing more than a few overeager citizens with too much time and illegal weaponry on their hands. Just something to be slapped down; all of Caine's investigations suggested that there was no deeper plot here than a bit of frustration. A bit of frustration could go a long way, of course. Some of Caine's team were down, some from the firefights, some from hand-to-hand combat. One had, it appeared, been emasculated by a particularly vindictive member of the resistance group equipped with a pocket knife. Two had lost their nerve in the face of battle and had to be incapacitated by their teammates to prevent them from getting in the way. Caine herself had been taken down in hand to hand combat by a young fighter feeling his oats who had taken to her thigh with his teeth; she had broken his jaw and limped, furious, back to the medical tents. So, all in all, they were no more than bees. Small, insignificant, but with enough of a sting to be...very annoying. They would be smoked out, however, one way or another. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant," the medico whined placatingly as he finished with the treatment of the bite wound. "But one never knows what kind of diseases they might be carrying. The disinfectant stings but--" He was cut off as Caine's hand took the weight of her frustration out on the badge on his shoulder. "How is that for a sting?" she asked coldly as he writhed, then released him with a jerk. "Finish your job." He wrapped her leg in double time and had her back walking normally within ten minutes. Midshipman David Decatur was at her side as soon as she had exited the tent. Decatur had come aboard the Agincourt at the same time as Caine; he too was finding his bearings in the chaotic situation in which they now found themselves. There were two ways most officers carved a place for themselves in Imperial crews. The smart ones became leaders, making themselves known and dominating where they could. The dumb ones found a smart one to latch onto, or they didn't get very far at all. Decatur was a dumb one; young, tall, broad in the shoulders, and thick as a brick. He was clever enough, however, to peg Caine immediately on their arrival as the one he needed to attach himself to if he wanted to move up the ranks, and he had hardly left her side in the intervening two weeks. Another annoyance, but one that had its uses. Caine was not unaware of the value of personal loyalty, since the professional sort could be hard to come by. "Lieutenant!" he said eagerly, falling into step with her. "You've got word from the front, Mr. Decatur?" "Yessir. The regroup order is in progress, sir; casualty numbers are up but the militants are falling back somewhat. You called it right, sir!" His eagerness to give her this bit of good news was painful, but at least the words were welcome ones. The change of dynamic in the skirmish front had been a calculated risk on her part; had it not worked she might have found herself in the booth for a time rather longer than she would consider pleasant. However, the fallback was a good sign -- good timing for it, as it would solidify some authority with her teams who were now coming to know her command style. Decatur of course didn't seem to need the proof. "We're tearing 'em to pieces, Chief," he continued proudly, like a pup begging for a treat. "Some of the Cait's people were speccing that maybe you were talkin' out of your ass, sir, but we've got it tied up like a neat package." Caine smiled coldly. She had already begun to notice a slow progression among the security officers newer to the ship, of merely referring to Commander JoNs as "the Cait." Apparently her cold dislike of the ship's executive officer had not gone unnoticed, and lines of tension were beginning to be drawn between those in her department loyal to the former-CSEC XO and those loyal to Caine. Caine didn't mind tension; it kept her men on their toes, made them pay attention to their surroundings. For the time being, things were at something of an equilibrium; as long as JoNs's intentions remained more or less in line with the orders of the Empire, Caine could count on her entire team's full support. If JoNs strayed off the beaten path...well, then things could get a little hairier. Caine would have a smaller team to work with, but in the long run it was better to know well in advance where her best allies lay among her department. As a matter of fact it was something of a blessing. One was rarely so sure in this line of work. "Don't get overconfident, Mr. Decatur," she murmured, turning the corner around a line of tents and walking into the armory, where she was handed one of the phaser rifles and a couple of extra power cells which she hooked to her belt. "We don't walk away until the job is...completely finished."

God Almighty, that stings... Caine thought, gritting her teeth as one of the medtechs quickly disinfected and wrapped the wound she had received from the Avaros prisoner in the next tent over. The little jacktah had bitten her, sunk his teeth a good half an inch into her leg in blind panic. A frustrating wound more than an actively painful one -- God knew Caine had suffered much worse -- but certainly an inconvenience in an uncertain situation. She sat on the small cot, drumming her fingers impatiently against the mattress as she waited for the tech to finish his ministrations on her. Owen entered the tent, a wrapped sandwich in one hand, the other holding one which he was happily munching. "Yo, Junior, I brought you something. You can carry it around and next time someone's hungry, offer them the sandwich instead of your leg." He couldn't resist teasing her about the little incident during their investigation. Caine shot him a dirty look. "Hey, I can't help it if I'm more appealing than camp rations," she said dryly, but took the sandwich with a nod of thanks. Biting off the corner, she let herself lean back to rest against the wall. "Our guest waking up at all?" Without even asking if it was OK, Owen sat down on the cot next to Caine and kept eating his sandwich. "Harvey's still out cold. The doc said it might take an hour or so until we can interrogate him again." He broke off and shot a glance at her, grinning. "We could have some fun in the meantime." Caine slowly raised one pointed eyebrow at him, biting down on a grin at his eternal incorrigibility. What she, and probably most of the crew at this point, really wanted was a catnap somewhere where the ground didn't shake and buildings weren't falling on people, but that wasn't looking all that promising for any point in the near future. Thank God for Vulcan endurance. "Really...what did you have in mind?" Buddha shrugged and leaned back so that he was propped up on his elbows. "Dunno, play poker?" Caine laughed. "I've always preferred blackjack, myself," she said with some amusement. "Though I'm sure I could give you a run for your money." "Gotta work on your pokerface, Caine. You're not as good at it as other Vulcans. You even have a nice smile, and trust me, I never thought I'd say that to a Vulcan or even half-Vulcan." Owen was surprised at his own honesty. He was good at BS-ing women but this time the compliment was real. That "nice smile" at the moment, however, was more of a smirk. "Maybe I'm just lulling you into a false sense of security; I could be a card shark of the highest order," Caine said, raising the other eyebrow into an open, innocent expression. "I've certainly been around barracks rooms enough." Owen grinned broadly. "Yeah, and I'm sure cards weren't the only thing you were playing, Junior. Anyway," he added quickly to change the subject. "Got any idea how we're going to get more information out of Harvey?" Caine snorted and gave him a solid backhanded crack across the shoulder (taking care not to aim for his sore one) but allowed him to move the conversation onward; they unfortunately had more to concern themselves with than just banter. "He clearly knows more than he's letting on," she said. "You heard what he was mumbling about." She gave him a meaningful look -- both of them had definitely heard the word "Soltan" in the terrorist's half-coherent mutters, and both of them had to know what that could mean. "I think we need to get back to him while he's still a little woozy, see if we can catch him with his guard down." "Agreed, and if he doesn't talk I might get a little more persuasive. If the Soltans are behind this, we could be in for a lot of trouble. I don't like this one bit, Caine." Owen was still leaning on his elbows, looking up and studying some stains on the ceiling, idly wondering what substance might have caused those. "Neither do I," Caine said grimly, reflecting not for the first time on how thoroughly the mention of the Soltans could put a damper on conversation in certain company, including hers. "We're not the type to go gently into a situation where we don't have all the variables. And there's sure as hell something more going on here than meets the eye." "True. I just hope we'll find out before the Soltans actually show up. It might get quite messy if they do while we're still here." His eyes still fixed on the stain, Owen tried hard not to think about the Gideon, Earth and everything that had gone so terribly wrong ever since the Soltans showed up in his life. "You or I?" he asked after a pause. Caine quirked an eyebrow and took a bite of the sandwich again. "Hmm?" she asked around the mouthful. "Who's gonna tell Medusa? I'm sure she won't like the news." Except for a short introduction after the recent marine brawl, Caine hadn't had much occasion to speak to Agincourt's Marine CO; she didn't know enough to judge the exact veracity of Owen's statement. However, it was pretty much general understanding that bringing the bad news to the higher-ups was never a particularly fun experience. "I don't suppose we could wrestle for the privilege?" she asked dryly, knowing perfectly well that the report on the investigation was her responsibility. "Me with a gimp leg, you might actually beat me." "What do you mean 'actually beat you'? I'd beat you with my hands tied behind my back even if your leg hadn't been turned into a steak, Caine." Owen grinned again, thinking that a sparring fight with Caine might actually be fun. Caine laughed. "One of these days we'll have to test that, but I suppose now isn't the appropriate time. I'll contact the CO and you can owe me one." "Alright, alright," Owen laughed, sitting up. "Just let me know if you need backup." "I am sure you will be the first one I call," Caine said cheerfully. The medtech had finished his work and she pushed herself off the cot, testing the healed muscle and finding it to feel sound. Owen jumped to his feet as Caine got up. "And now let's see how Harvey's doing. You coming?" "Wouldn't miss it," Caine said, and fell into step with him as they left the tent.

Mmmm...yes, and we all know what pushovers cats are, right? :(

((Set just a little before start-of-sim this week.)) Owen strolled around the parking lot turned triage facility in search of Caine. He had just gotten himself something to drink and a sandwich after hearing Mike's report on the terrorists. Buddha wasn't sure what to think of it. One the one hand they would now have some information to persuade their guest to talk. On the other hand, dealing with terrorists was something he could easily do without. As he turned around a tent he saw Caine standing about 50 feet away. He hurried over, still munching on his food. Caine was standing a short distance from the tent where she and Matthews had begun their interrogation on the Avaros prisoner and appeared somewhat lost in thought, her grey eyes seeming to stare through the canvas at the hostile young man beyond it. The sound of approaching footsteps broke through the reverie and she looked up to see Owen approaching. "Hey, Buddha," she said, cocking her head to the side and working a kink out of her neck. "What's the word?" "Yo, Junior. Want a piece of my sandwich?" He held it out to her, smiling. "Let's walk." He shot a quick glance at the tent and knew the prisoner might be able to hear them if they discussed things out here. Caine took the food and quirked an eyebrow curiously before falling into step with the marine captain. When they had walked some distance Owen turned to Caine and smiled. "I think I have good news. Well, maybe not exactly good but it might help us get this guy to talk a bit." He fell silent, knowing full well that the lack of an explanation might actually annoy Caine. Caine took a bite of the sandwich, chewing slowly while waiting for Owen to continue. When the silence persisted, she swallowed and eyed him sidelong. "Going to keep it to yourself or what?" "Yup," he said with a grin. "Alright, I just talked to Slick. Apparently there's a local terrorist group around causing a lot of trouble and scaring the locals. I'm pretty sure Mr. 'You can't prove anything' isn't going to like that we found out. I'd say we just tell him we know everything, drop a hint here and there and see how he reacts. Sound good?" Caine's eyebrow quirked higher and she grinned. "Very good. It's not a full intel report or anything but we can use all the leverage we can get. Should help the next interview go better." She glanced over her shoulder at the tent they had left behind, and a slight expression of frustration crossed her Vulcan features. "Not that that'd be particularly difficult." Buddha sighed as his eyes followed Caine's gaze. "Yeah, unfortunately it seems like I wasn't scary enough. Maybe we should just tell him we caught one of his buddies and that he's telling us quite a bit. It might work if we mention we know about the terrorist activity and such." Caine nodded. "Can't hurt, certainly. He seemed to be getting most of his chutzpah from the fact that he figured we were blinking idiots. Can't say it won't be satisfying to give him a taste of the opposite viewpoint." Owen shrugged as he considered Caine's words. "It's always dangerous to underestimate the enemy." "A mistake he hopefully will not have occasion to make twice," Caine said cheerfully. "We'll wear him down soon enough, assuming our chief engineer doesn't take it into her head to interrupt us again. Better finish up eating so we can get back to work." "Well, seeing as you're finishing my lunch, I guess I am already finished. So, let's get back to Harvey and see how he does this time." Owen grinned, hoping Caine would understand that he wasn't entirely serious. After all, he had offered her the rest of his sandwich. But with Vulcans you never knew. Caine chuckled and swallowed the last of the sandwich. "Right with you, Captain."

Caine's Vulcan hearing, even at this distance, had picked up what she now realized was the faint echoes of an explosion in the distance, but at first she had assumed the low noises were the rumbling aftershocks of another quake. With herself and Kassem back safely to the camp after their run-in with the looters in the nearby city center, she been heading in to check in with her men working in the building which had been established as the Agincourt's planetside command center when the low booming noise had sounded. Almost immediately, however, the airwaves of the communications devices inside had been flooded with reports from the Marine teams doing recon; the information was garbled and confused but what was clear was that there had been an attack. Caine had scrambled; the security teams at the base mobilized for possible action as the reports continued coming in. For now, though, they were still only on high alert; the immediate crisis, from what she could tell on the comms, had passed. Four of the most wounded in whatever firefight had taken place had beamed back to the base camp -- Commander JoNs and one of Caine's officers, Lieutenant Mical, who were both heavily burned and unconscious, and two of the marines, Captain Matthews and Sgt Hefner. Socom, the medical officer on duty, had swooped in and scooped them up while Caine did her best to stay out of the way. It had taken some time for the area of the medical tents to reach anything like its previous tense calm; Caine had been waiting outside until given leeway to go in and speak to any of the injured parties. Poking her head into one of the tents now, she found that Buddha Matthews was sitting up on his cot; he and Hefner had received relatively minor wounds compared to the Commander and she was pleased to see that he looked perfectly alert. Owen was starting to get frustrated as he sat on his cot, waiting for one of the medics to clear him for duty. As far as he was concerned this whole business of keeping him here was pointless. He should be out there trying to track down the people who had attacked the Commander and the Lieutenant. Sitting in this tent was a waste of time. He turned his head as he heard someone enter the tent and was pleased to see Lieutenant Caine. "Ah, Junior. Coming to see whether I'm still alive, huh?" he asked, grinning broadly. Caine chuckled dryly at the expression on his face. "Guess so -- glad you didn't disappoint. I don't suppose you can tell me what the hell happened out there?" She waved a hand, the swift gesture referencing the demolished warehouse from which the injured officers had apparently beamed. Buddha shrugged but regretted it immediately; the burn on his left shoulder hadn't quite healed yet and now it hurt as the raw skin rubbed against his shirt. Taking a deep breath, he tried to figure out where to start. "Well, we had heard reports of looters so we went to take a look. We did find a few guys trying to lead us into a trap and this one guy got away. Slick, Murray and I went after him. Suddenly he disappeared and there was this explosion...right at JoNs' location. Mike and I went in as we realized that noone had come out. We found them and beamed back to the camp. That's all I know." With that he fell silent and scratched his head trying to remember if he had missed something. But there simply was nothing else to say. That was what happened, at least as far as he knew. Caine's expression deepened soberly. She was annoyed at herself (perhaps illogically, but why the hell not on occasion?) for not having been where the action was, especially given the fact that one of her men had gone down, but it was too late to worry about that now. "What do you mean, 'disappeared'?" she asked, focusing on the element of this whole thing that was still unresolved. Owen shifted uneasily on his cot. "Well, disappeared means he ran into a building and I was right behind him. But then the warehouse exploded and I lost him." He paused, frowning. He had done the right thing trying to get to the XO and Mical instead of trying to catch that guy...or had he? "I tried to contact Commander JoNs, but I got no answer so Slick and I went in." Caine nodded quickly, seeing the self-questioning in Matthews's eyes. "You did right; was just curious if there was still a chance to find him maybe." She crossed her arms across her chest, grinning faintly. "If there are terrorists on the prowl taking down my men, I don't like to be the one sitting on my rear." "I wouldn't mind if you headed out with us. Nichols and her squad are still out there and some of my people are on their way here with two...euh...guests. Maybe we can persuade them to give us some information." He grinned, feeling a little better knowing that at least they hadn't come back empty-handed. Caine smiled at the invitation, her pointed eyebrows quirking up in a determined expression. "I'll be prepped with a few of my men to go out by the time you're healed up," she said with a nod, eyeing the burn on his shoulder again. "What kind of guests should we be expecting?" "I'm looking forward to watching your six, Junior," Owen said with a mischievous grin. "We caught two of those guy thinking they were smart enough to lead us into a trap. Only one of them got away." Caine quirked an eyebrow with amusement at Matthews's expression. "Don't watch too hard," she said cheerfully. "Or you may find some difficulty at your twelve." She laced her hands behind her back, returning quickly to business. "I'll get some of my boys to work setting up a brig area unless you want to send 'em shipside." Buddha chuckled. He liked Caine more and more. "We can interrogate them here. The faster we get information the better. You can do the honours. I'll just stand in the background and be the big bad Marine. Sound good?" Caine smiled. "Sounds very good," she said. "I'll make sure Nichols has a nice secure place to put them in the meantime." She twisted her head, working a kink out of her neck, starting to realize just how long the crew, collectively, had been at this little project. "Let me know when you feel up to getting out of here." "Oh, I can't wait to leave. The doc's still gotta clear me for duty though. I think he said something about dermaline gel or so. I think I'll be with you in 10 minutes or so. Can you survive that long without me?" Caine resisted the impulse to roll her eyes. "I think somehow I'll find enough to keep me busy, Captain, thank you..." she said dryly. Matthews was certainly incorrigible, even with half his shoulder burned off. "Try not to go stir-crazy in the meantime." Rather than being put out by being turned down, Owen grinned again. "I guess it's too late for that. I'll just sit here and practice my mean face." Caine's face went Vulcan-still and she raised an eyebrow deliberately. "I don't know, Captain...the one you've got might scare quite well enough..." she deadpanned, then grinned and disappeared out the door of the tent before he could respond. Owen's grin widened and he looked after Caine as she left the tent. Definitely interesting, he thought. Though a bit of a challenge, I guess.

Can I get please? Thanks! :)

Kairi was walking through one of the yet unexplored parts of the demolished city. She was missing her uniform jacket, which was left in her tent back at base camp. Her long raven hair was tied back in a pony tail, behind her pointed ears. It was hot in this part of the city, partly from the climate and partly from the recent fires. Walking next to her was the new Security Chief, Caine. The other engineers, marines, and security officers had their assignments and this was a great way for the Engineering Chief to get to know her. Caine moved a little behind the Chief Engineer as the two pointy-eared senior officers moved through the city. Lieutenant Commander Kassem had asked the half-Vulcan security chief to accompany her in an excursion into the city, and Caine had agreed; she had left the remainder of her men (minus those who were accompanying more of the engineering teams) looking into getting the camp locked down for a possible quick evacuation. The planet had begun to shake more and more in the area where they had set up their triage facilities and Caine didn't much trust it. For now, though, her grey eyes were flicking around the beaten city as she moved with Kassem, looking for places where they could be of assistance in the still ongoing rescues and retrievals. The Chief Engineer glanced back at her partner. "Has anyone checked this area yet for survivors?" She took note of the ruined buildings, frowning. "This place is a mess..." "I'm not sure..." Caine said, glancing around, altering her pace to move her across the street from the engineer so they would cover slightly more ground. It was eerily silent even to Vulcan hearing, except for the occasional rumble under her feet and the collapsed buildings around her groaning occasionally with strain. She reached to her side and pulled out a tricorder, beginning to scan around them for life signs as she moved. "Hopefully so, but it doesn't hurt to do a double-check, either. Don't want to leave anyone...trapped..." She grimaced with an expression of distaste then eyed the results from the first scan. "Definitely life forms in the area...they seem to be moving around though -- a couple of streets over." A smile crossed Kairi's face at that news. "That's good. I was hoping we would find survivors." She took out her own tricorder, confirming the scans. "We should go see if they need help." Caine quirked an eyebrow at Kassem's expression and returned the smile with a faint grin. "Right with you," she said, turning her steps off to the left to veer into the cross-street that would bring them towards the survivor's lifesigns the tricorder read. They had jogged a few moments in silence before Caine eyed the engineer sidelong again. "You are not a full-Vulcan either, then, I take it?" Kairi laughed at that remark and stopped before they got to the corner. "No. I'm not a Vulcan at all." The eyebrow quirked higher and Caine let out a short laugh. "Sorry for the assumption," she said, moving up towards the corner and leaning herself against the wall as she poked her head around it. "I'm actually half Romulan," replied the engineer as she poked her head over Caine's shoulder to get a peek. ""Can you see anyone?" That was a bit surprising, and both eyebrows now went up towards Caine's hairline as the engineer looked past her shoulder. Fascinating... she thought to herself with amusement, though this revelation did add another layer of complexity and uncertainty to a person she already didn't know very well. "Romulan, hmmm? No doubt many stories there but I'll save the asking for another time," she said, the faint grin growing a little wider before dropping as she peered into the street. "No one...they've gone--" she began, but her voice cut off as she saw a human shape disappearing into one of the half-ruined buildings; they appeared to have found a row of storefronts. "Down there," she pointed, and broke into a jog again. "What the...?" said Kairi as Caine took off. She wasn't sure what she had seen, but the engineer began to sprint to keep up. "They're down there," Caine said, slowing her pace slightly to let Kairi catch up. "Must've taken shelter in the stores; the--" She was cut off again, this time by the splintering sound of broken glass. She suddenly remembered what Commander JoNs had told her earlier about reports of looters in the city areas and groaned. "Oh, great." Kairi also heard the shattered glass. "That doesn't sound like someone in trouble..." She looks down the street, taking note of all of the small shops. "Looters, perhaps?" "That would be...the logical assumption, I think," Caine said with a wry laugh. She reached for the sidearm hanging on her hip and spun it quickly out into her hand, setting for stun and bringing it up into a guard position as she swung around a curve in the street and looked at the offending storefront. There were four broad-shouldered men in ripped shirts standing just inside what appeared to have once been an electronics depot of some kind; one of them had just smashed through a glass case and was going through the merchandise inside. The engineer quickly followed suit, grabbing her phaser from her belt. She stood by Caine, standing ready to act if she had too. "All of you, stand down!" Caine called into the store, wondering if perhaps they might take the easy way out and just come quietly, though she rather doubted it. Sure enough, one of the men caught sight of the two uniformed women and scowled. "Ayyyy, get out of it, Starfleet!" he barked, pulling out what looked like a small projectile pistol of some sort. "Ain't been much help so far, so stay outta the way!" He squeezed the trigger and a bullet clanged off a municipal trash can next to Caine. Immediately she dropped to one knee and fired off a stun bolt into the group, rolling sideways out of his immediate line of sight. "So much for the easy way..." she muttered. Kairi quickly dropped below the building's window line, pressing up against the wall. "It never is," she chuckled before popping up for a shot. "Well, no, but one can always hope..." Caine said dryly, crawling quickly in to take up a position on the other side of the building's entrance. "Take the two on the left, I'll take the right...I'd like to do this without roughing 'em up too much." Poking her head into the open entrance she squeezed off a shot at one of her assigned targets and received a yowl of anger and another bullet in return, which whistled past her ear. "Holy mother..." she muttered, her Vulcan expression twisting with aggravation, and dropped to the ground again. This wasn't a great tactical position, as their opponents had their backs to the wall, but the odds were good enough that calling for reinforcements just yet seemed a waste of everyone's time. The engineer fired off another stun bolt, aimed at one of the two men on the left. She ducked back down at the sound of the bullets. "Well..." a bullet pinged off the wall. "At least they will run out of bullets before or phasers dry up." She couldn't help but smile. Her smile didn't last, though, as she felt a sting in her right shoulder. A bullet had just barely nicked her, causing a small amount of blood to drip down. Caine winced as she saw the bullet scrape the engineer's shoulder, though she couldn't help a grin at Kairi's words. "Way to look on the bright side, Commander," she said dryly, and popped up, firing at the man who had shot last. Finally the stun bolt found a mark and she heard the heavy man drop with a very satisfying thud. One down. "If you stand down we will make sure you get food and water and medical attention!" she called through the entrance, but the stream of expletives in response told her that they were still not making much progress in the diplomatic vein. "We can take care of ourselves!" one of the men barked and Caine rolled her eyes, poking her phaser up and blasting off another stun bolt. Kairi looked at her shoulder. It hurt some, but this was far from over. "I'm just glad they are lousy shots." She fired another round, managing to hit one of her targets as well. "Playing field is even." Two on two. Caine liked those odds. "Good shooting," she said, and sat up to take another shot; her phaser blast this time glanced off the far wall and scorched a mark in the stone floor by her target's feet. "Thanks. Not bad for an engineer, huh?" smiled Kairi. She took another shot before ducking back down. "I wish they'd just give up already." Caine slid herself down onto the ground and angled around into the doorway, firing again. Her shot found another mark and left only one man standing. He was slightly smaller than the others and his features grew abruptly terrified as he stood alone. "Stand down!" Caine called and there was a slow pause before the man nodded slowly in silence. He let the gun fall from his fingers to hit the ground; the impact set it off with a bang and another bullet whizzed between the two Starfleet officers, burying itself in the wall of the building. "Jesu Christe..." Caine muttered, raising her eyes to the sky before climbing up to her feet and raising her phaser. Kairi followed suit, making sure the other men were down. "We better call this in. I'm sure the camp will want to hear from us." She poked one of the downed men. "Besides, they need to be looked after." "Yeah, we'll need a few stretchers -- and we'll want the word out the the marines that some of the looters are using projectile weapons. Crude but...effective enough," Caine said, glancing at Kairi's shoulder. "Are you alright?" She approached the one man still standing and quickly checked to relieve him of other weapons. "I'm fine. It's just a scratch." The engineer made sure the stunned men didn't have any weapons near them. Caine grinned again, her looser, more laconic smile resurfacing now that the crisis had passed. She appreciated that resilient attitude in the other woman. "Well, then it'll give the docs a nice break. Something good and simple," she said, and tapped her commbadge. "Caine to Avaros base camp -- Commander Kassem and I have subdued a small looting party in the southwest corner of the city; we're going to need a site to site and three stretchers, and two sec men for when these boys start waking up with a bit of a headache." She paused, then chuckled. "Bit feisty, but nothing we couldn't handle."

((This log is set more or less during the 4/29 sim, expanding on the situation a little bit.)) "Water...please..." They were, by far, not the first injured arrivals to the base camp, but they were some of the youngest. The female was perhaps merely a year or so below the age of maturity, but the male was no more than a young boy. They were both far too young to internalize the sort of experiences they were undergoing with any equanimity. Caine watched over their thin bodies as they curled against the mattress of one of the stretchers and remembered other youths caught in such a disaster, not so long ago... They were clearly family, probably brother and sister; both had short, mussed brown hair and squared-off builds. Caine guessed they were athletes by the way the muscles were concentrated in their shoulders and thighs. Their warm brown eyes were set deep in their faces, and the boy's were screwed shut. There was some dried blood on his left temple. He was unconscious, but his sister had her eyes open and was looking around wide-eyed at the three orderlies and Caine from the stretcher, as they pushed it across the empty lot from the beam-in point to the medical tents. Caine was pleased to see the energy in that terrified gaze. Whatever had battered her body into its current state, it had not damaged her mind. I'll have to see if we can find their parents... Since the rescued earthquake victims had started rolling into the camp a few hours before, Caine had been kept on alert, moving between the tents, making sure personnel were distributed where they were needed, and helping the movement of the wounded to their appropriate tents. The injuries so far had been varied and numerous. The majority were very serious; her medical expertise was limited to first-aid but she knew enough to realize that when bones were sticking out and visible to the naked eye, it was generally a bad sign. So far the actual death toll was not terrifying, but every number added to it was more than she would have liked, one sign that her job and that of those around her were not being done perfectly. It was something of a relief to get the occasional minor injury, such as these two, something which could be handled quickly and with immediate results. "Can I have some water?" the girl asked again, her voice a little stronger as the hover-stretcher floated along over the dirty lot where the camp had been arranged. The tone rasped in her throat. One of the orderlies glanced back at Caine and gestured to the medical pack on his back. She reached over and withdrew a small bottle of water, which she offered to the girl. "Here...drink it slowly or you'll get sick." She held the bottle gently to the girl's lips and watched as she sucked at the water thirstily, taking half the bottle before dropping back against the stretcher. She reached for Caine's hand as the Chief of Security walked along beside the stretcher, and her eyes flicked towards her brother. "Is he going to be alright?" she whispered. Caine nodded. "Our field medic tagged you both as minor injuries...you're a little bruised up and your brother most likely has a concussion. You'll both recover." The young woman looked relieved and sank back further into her stretcher, her dark eyes shutting, her body clearly exhausted. Caine squeezed the hand gripping hers, a quick supportive pressure. She would rather have been out with the marines doing the actual rescue work but there was no question that there was some satisfaction to be had in making sure that the medics and the victims had a steady, solid place to start the process of recovering and rebuilding. For now she was the bedrock. "What happened to you?" The girl smiled faintly without reopening her eyes; Caine got the impression she was trying to put up a brave front, though her hand shook a little against the half-Vulcan's palm. "We'd just gotten home from school when the quakes started...went to the basement to wait it out. Our house has always been pretty sturdy but...it didn't hold up. Collapsed on us...the upper floors all fell in." Caine stiffened almost imperceptibly at the mental image this called up. The young woman's eyes opened in surprise, feeling the subtle change in the grip on her hand. "Are you alright, ma'am?" she asked. Caine was saved from answering by the low thump of paws next to her, and she turned her eyes sideways to see that Commander JoNs had fallen into step with the little troupe of stretchers. "How we doing, Junior?" A faint smile drifted onto Caine's features and she chuckled dryly at the mode of address she was still getting used to. The ironic callsign which JoNs had assigned her did more to amuse her than anything else, though she'd already had one security crewman wonder about her decision to accept the mildly diminutive nickname which was quickly spreading through the teams planetside. The crewman had seemed concerned on her behalf that the new chief had undermined her own authority, but Caine wasn't worried. If her authority over the department turned out to be of a quality that could be undermined by a single callsign, she probably didn't deserve that authority in the first place. She had wondered, to the extent that she had thought about it at all, whether it represented a subconscious attempt on the young XO's part to bring the older, more experienced officer to her level -- if that was the case, it didn't bother her much. JoNs was indeed young, but she seemed smart, physically accomplished, energetic, and intelligent. Until Caine saw evidence against this, she would have respect for the Caitian's authority. That being said, she imagined that their relative ages might be intimidating to someone who, from what she understood, had reached her current position via battlefield promotion. So if the nickname was a subconscious leveling effort, that was perfectly fine with her, as long as the Cait continued her so-far admirable trend to let her officers do their job properly. Caine had long since come to the conclusion that there was quite enough to be concerned about in her line of work without letting the unimportant things bother her. "We're doing alright, sir," she said, nodding to the commander and then turning to glance down again at the young woman on the stretcher, whose eyes had once again drifted shut with exhaustion. "So far there's been remarkably few fatalities...mostly fixable injuries." Which was true, as far as it went -- it didn't do much to quantify the number of very miserable people currently residing in the base camp, but the fact was that things were going much better than they could have been. "Good..." JoNs said. "Keep me informed." There was the light touch of a paw to her shoulder, and Caine looked up again just in time to see the Commander zooming off four-legged into the crowds of milling officers and medics. "Will do, Commander," she said towards the retreating back, coming to a halt as her little party reached the minor-injuries tent. As she checked to be sure that the young woman and her brother were safely transferred to their new beds, her commbadge chirped against her chest. "I found two more. They seem to be in fairly good shape. Dehydrated and scared to death, though. I'll send them your way." "Understood, Buddha." Caine quickly about-faced, gestured a few more orderlies into step with her, and headed back to the beam-in point.

((This log is set directly between "Under Surveillance" and "Junior.")) Caine jogged from one tent to the next around the small complex where the Agincourt crew was setting up camp for the relief operations on Avaros; the adrenaline of a crisis situation was in her blood, channeled by focus and keeping her moving among the security, medical, and marine teams roiling like an unsettled sea. The whole place had the feel of a powder-keg; though the ground for now held firm and the rumbles of the earthquakes were still far in the distance, she knew the minds of all those in the camp -- and probably plenty in the sky too -- were on the possibility that everything around them could, at any moment, completely puff up in smoke. Caine felt the tension but ignored it, her grey eyes unblinkingly receiving reports as she moved from man to man. The practicalities of the situation demanded that she remain intent on what could be done; the camp was being made as stable as possible against the possibility of the shocks moving to their area. Beyond that, it was useless to worry, so Caine didn't. She spotted Marine Captain Matthews completing a briefing to his company and turned to jog towards him, ending up behind him just as he turned around. "Whoa, Caine!" He stepped back a little before continuing, "We're just about to head out. Do you need anything?" Caine shook her head, glancing past Matthews towards the marines arranged in file behind him. "Camp's getting set up as we speak; my boys are working with the medicos and we should be all set to receive incoming fairly soon, and the building is getting arranged as a command and communications center. We're in as good shape as we're like to be, I think." "Ok, good. Alpha platoon's going to help you. I assigned a couple of field medics to them so they'll be able to give you a hand as soon as you get the first injuried. Do you have a plan for those who don't make it? We can't leave the bodies in the open." This was something Owen didn't exactly like to think about, but it had to be taken care of anyway. Decomposing bodies would just be an additional source for diseases. It was not merely a matter of respecting the dead but also one of protecting the living. "A couple of the tents are, I believe, being set up for...morgue duty," Caine said with a faint expression of distaste which she quickly controlled. "With luck we won't need more than that." Luck very rarely had anything to do with this sort of affair but it was a nice thought anyway. She nodded at the private standing next to Matthews, who, set off as he was, was probably the leader of the platoon Matthews had cited as remaining behind. "The extra hands will no doubt be useful though." Owen ignored Guenther for the moment. The private had his orders and he was probably just waiting for further instructions from Caine. "I wish we had way more people. We have to cover a huge area and I fear we'll be too late for some." Caine let one eyebrow drift upwards and her expression flattened slightly. "I don't think there was ever really much question of that," she said bluntly. "But what we've got will do a great deal of good. Just be careful out there; make sure your boys keep their wits about them." "Don't worry. Unfortunately we have enough experience with things like this. Well, not the quakes but...well you know." He trailed off, knowing he didn't have to finish the sentence for Caine to understand. It was just slightly unsettling how similar this whole thing was to what had happened on Earth. "Let's just hope the earthquakes will stop soon. That would make our job a whole lot easier...and safer." Caine did understand, and the eyebrow twitched a micron higher before abruptly dropping. "I agree; perhaps the blueshirts will have something for us by the time things start getting really crazy." She had no idea whether that was likely; on some ships the science teams were top of the line, on others they were merely a supplement to fill out the empty bunks after the fighting side of things was brought in. She knew nothing of Agincourt's team except that there had been suggestions that the planet was giving birth to some sort of...god...or something...Caine was rather hazy on the details and frankly didn't care. She just hoped they came up with something more conclusive, and soon. "I wouldn't mind if things didn't get crazy at all. I'd definitely prefer it that way," Owen replied. "We could do with good news for once." Caine flashed him a tight grin. "We're marines and security, Matthews. We exist to deal with bad news." She glanced at the marines still arranged ready for departure. "I'll go report on readiness to the Commander, unless there's anything else?" Buddha shook his head and smiled. "You're right. We'd lose our jobs if there weren't bad news. One thing before I head out. I hear there are looters around downtown. Watch out in case they make it out here." With that he turned around and walked towards the rest of his platoon waiting for him.

::laughs:: You're the second person to make that comment to me about this log and I'm now feeling like the last person in the known universe who *hasn't* seen that movie. ::very much *not* named after the dog, but named *by* the cat::

Caine stepped off the turbolift and moved quickly into her office, sliding her tall, lean frame behind the desk and tapping her screen to call up the list of personnel currently on security duty. She wished she had had more than twenty-four hours to become familiar with her department, but what better way to start getting to know their dynamic than the possibility of a crisis? The Cait XO had told her to prepare her teams for possible disaster relief and Caine was in full focus mode, her expression deadly serious as she scanned over the on-duty names and then tapped her commbadge. "Lieutenant Caine to all security. On-duty squads to alert status; equip for possible natural disaster relief." Or possibly not-so-natural... she added mentally, reflecting on the various theories the science team had been tossing around on the bridge. But that wasn't her arena; she was just responsible for figuring out what to do about it. "Report readiness ASAP and stand by for further orders." She tapped her commbadge to close the channel, then turned her display to an image of the planet and readouts on its sudden convusions. After the comm from Commander JoNs, Buddha had spent quite some time trying to assess the situation on the planet. His initial regret of not being among the marines who were deployed had quickly turned into relief. Battle was something he could deal with but natural disasters...no. What he had seen on Earth after the Soltan attack was more than he'd ever wanted to see. Trying to rescue people who needed help was one thing. But digging through debris only to find out that you had come too late was definitely not something Owen wanted to do ever again, though it seemed like he might have to. If they were sent down to the planet to assist with disaster relief, he hoped they'd actually get to rescue people, help them survive, not dig up bodies so the mourning families would be able to bury their dead. He quickly dimissed that thought. His sister and her family had never been found. Every time he thought about it he started to hope again that maybe they were still alive somewhere. He didn't have the time for that. Now he needed to concentrate on his job and see what they could do to make sure the people on the planet would get the help they needed. Getting up, he looked around for Sergeant Nichols. "Sergeant, get the platoon ready for a natural disaster relief mission. I want everyone to be ready and in the shuttles in 15 minutes." With that he turned around and walked to the turbolift. Two minutes later he stepped out of the 'lift and found himself right in front of the Security offices. He rang the chime and waited. Caine didn't look up from her screen when she heard the chime. Probably one of her department hoping to find out what was going on. "Come in," she said crisply. Owen strode into the office and stood in front of the desk. "Lieutenant," he said, nodding briefly. "I was told to coordinate with you regarding our efforts to help the population on the planet." Caine recognized that voice, and now she did look up to catch the gaze of Owen Matthews, the marine captain to whom she had spoken after the brawl the day before. "Good to hear," she said, nodding, her expression and tone showing no sign of the jocularity it had had during their last meeting. "We're going to need all the personnel we can get." She turned the screen on her desk so that he could see it, flicking her fingers against the touch-sensitive controls to zoom in the image of the planet. The entire display was covered in brightly colored areas representing the heaviest seismic activity and damage; Caine had dealt with disaster relief many times but few where it was so difficult to analyze the areas of greatest need. "I have seen the data and I have no idea how best to go about this. I already told my people to prepare for this mission. They'll be ready and standing by in the shuttles in 15 minutes. But quite honestly, I don't know where to send them. I've been monitoring the communications down on the planet and it seems like we'd need more people to be able to help effectively." Caine nodded again, one pointed eyebrow quirking with an expression of frustration. "My men are going into alert status as we speak, as well, and should be reporting in any minute. But you're right; we don't have the personnel for this, in any real sense..." Her voice trailed off as another bit of seismic activity spiked on the readings and one of the red areas spread slightly. "The XO had Medical going on alert as well, so that gives us a little more to work with. We can send our men down with their teams at the main fault areas and radiate out from there to get a better sense of where we're most needed." "The question is how safe it is to go down there. There's still seismic activity everywhere." Owen pointed to a few points on the screen. "I'd say we go down there, there and there and then work our way toward the more damaged areas. It's safer that way. It would be a bad idea to get caught in an earthquake. We want to help not contribute to the count of casualties." He studied the maps again, trying to come up with something like a plan. They would definitely have to concentrate their efforts on two or three comparatively small areas for now. It wouldn't do to stretch their resources too thin. Caine nodded. She had no intention of getting herself trapped again, so she had no complaint with Owen's logic. "Good," she said. "Unfortunately, given the rather...unfocused...nature of these quakes there's no guarantee once we're down there that the epicenters won't shift but at the very least we may be able to set up a few stable bases of operation to work from." Still studying the monitor intently, Owen frowned. "It's going to be difficult setting up stable bases but I'd say our safest bet would be here." He pointed to a place on the map that showed hardly any seismic activity. "If the planet gets even more unstable we'll be in deep doo doo anyway." He shrugged as he looked up at Caine. "Unless you have any better ideas, Lieutenant." "Eloquently put, Captain," Caine said dryly. "But I agree. It's the best we've got to work with until science gets ahold of something concrete. Once -- if -- we're cleared to depart we'll want to coordinate with medical as well, see how we can be the most help to them." She flexed her fingers gently against her desk, her expression growing thoughtful. She had both field medic and disaster relief training but hadn't had much occasion in recent years to use them during her last posting stationside -- unless you counted the Soltan attack, and there was a whole lot of difference between trying to fix something from the outside and being caught in the middle of it. This was a bit better than that, at least. "I'm not know for my outstanding rhetoric, Lieutenant. I make it a point to concentrate on practicing those skills that'll serve me on the battlefield...or in situations such as this one." For a few seconds Owen let the silence hang between them. Then he continued, "We should set up a field hospital and tents to serve as emergency accommodations for the survivors. We'll need a lot of food, water and medical equipment. So we should have shuttles flying back and forth to help us with supplies and, if necessary, evacuate the more badly injured so they can be treated up here." Caine chose to ignore the tension she heard in Owen's voice in the first part of his statement; they didn't have a lot of time for niceties. If she'd offended him, he'd get over it. She focused on the suggestions instead, absorbing it into the list of things that needed to be done. "I'll coordinate through the quartermaster and flightops; let 'em know we may be needing to make supply drops in the event we go in." There was a ping on her desk as her teams began to report in their status on standby alert, and she nodded satisfaction at the response time. "Good teams this ship's got aboard," she muttered absently, tapping an acknowledgment out while keeping her eyes on the planet readouts. Owen had just had an idea. He scratched his head absent mindedly as he thought it over. "Okay, what if your people set up the camp while we go down there for a search-and-rescue operation. We could use the ship for site-to-site transports. That way we'd only have to tag the people we find and they'll be beamed directly to your location." Caine didn't much like that. It wasn't her nature to stay in the relatively safe areas when she could do more good in the dangerous ones, and her dissatisfaction showed in her expression, but logical analysis of the situation said that he was right. Her men probably didn't have the special/rescue ops training that his did, even if she personally could have held her own. "Works," she said. "Can draw from my men if we need extra hands, though, which somehow doesn't seem unlikely. I'll take a peek at my personnel files, see who might be best qualified." Once again she wished she'd had a little more time to get to know the department. Personnel files could vary a whole hell of a lot from actual competence, but this was hardly the time to complain about that. Owen nodded curtly. "Is there anything else we need to discuss? Otherwise I need to get going to brief my people and make sure we've got all the equipment we need." "Not off the top of my head, Captain, thank you," Caine said with a quick shake of the head. "Hopefully we'll get the go-ahead before things melt down too much further down there. Keep me apprised of any issues in preparation." "Aye, Lieutenant." With that Owen turned around and quickly left the Security office. He still had to stop by the NNC before joining the rest of the Marines in the shuttle bays.

Owen hurried to catch up with the new security person who had helped break up the brawl. She had just started walking out of the lounge and he contemplated her backside before finally catching up. Not bad, he thought, a grin spreading over his face. "Hey, Goldshirt," he called after her. "Let's go to sickbay together." Caine had one foot out of the door when she heard a call from behind her, and turned around more at the tone of it than at the content -- there were, by now, a couple goldshirts in the room and the familiar form of address would not have really suggested that she, the new variable in the Agincourt equation, was the one being called to. Sure enough, though, one of the marines, a captain by the pin on his collar, was approaching her. The half-Vulcan CSEC raised a pointed eyebrow slowly at him as he fell into step, taking in his bruised appearance and the blood on his neck. She remembered him -- he had been trying to break up the brawl alongside her. Good...at least he wasn't one of the young jarheads still determined to make a fool of himself; if any of them had tried to play charming, they'd have had another thing coming. The grin on his face still held a good dose of cockiness of course, but Caine didn't necessarily hold that against him. A slow smile slid across her Vulcan features as she allowed him to fall into step with her. "Need someone to watch your back in case you fall over, Captain?" she asked cheerfully, referencing the hit to the back of his neck that he had taken with a quick wave of her arm. The extent of her own injuries was mostly some bruises; she and Messner had done their jobs very cleanly for the most part. She was satisfied, and pleased with her new subordinate's performance as well -- a good sign for her new department as a whole. Matthews cocked his head to one side and smiled. "Very funny, Lieutenant. I figured I'd better watch your back; it's actually quite cute and I'd hate to have something happen to it." The smile quickly turned into a grin as he watched her. The eyebrow climbed higher and Caine had to resist the impulse not to laugh out loud at the marine captain. The man, whoever he was, was certainly good at establishing a profile for himself off the bat. It was amusing, really, more than anything, even if he did sound like a young Academy pup. She hadn't had occasion to deal much with marines before coming to this ship, and given that the CO was one herself, Caine figured she would probably have to get used to it; hopefully some of them were a bit more subtle. "Thank you for the concern, captain, but given that I just spent the past twenty minutes doing my best to knock your boys' heads together, maybe I'm not the one you should be worried about." She paused in front of the turbolift and tapped the controls. "Whoa -- before you get overconfident, I should warn you...those kids in there..." he jabbed his thumb over his shoulder to indicate the general direction of the lounge "...let's say they are not exactly battle-scarred. They only got me 'cos I didn't want to hurt them. They'll be deployed soon and it'd be a shame to have one or two miss the fun. And just to get this straight -- they are not *my* boys. Those are my boys." Owen was glad that Sergeant Torrence and Corporal Keane had just now walked out of the turbolift in front of them. Both Marines were even taller than Matthews and they looked like the kind of guys with whom you'd better not pick a fight. He decided not to mention that that they had regularly lost their sparring fights against M&M, a petite woman who packed a punch that'd knock down even the toughest guys. Caine eyed the two marines moving past them for a second, then looked back at her conversational partner. "Fair enough, captain," she said, nodding some understanding -- she wouldn't have been wanted to be tied in to that rowdy bunch either, if she could avoid it. She stepped into the now-empty 'lift and settled her back against the wall to hide the stiffening of her bearing in the enclosed space. "And," she added pointedly, glancing at the marine as he followed her in, "I do not get overconfident; I react to what I see. I know perfectly well what I was dealing with there; boys and girls with a great deal of skill and no focus. Just as much of a challenge in their own way as I am sure you would claim yourself." Owen entered the turbolift behind the Lieutenant and leaned against the bulkhead beside her with his hands crossed behind his back. "They will be focused when it counts, trust me. Oh, I'm sorry, I believe I haven't introduced myself. I'm Owen Matthews. You can call me Buddha." Caine filed this name away for future reference and nodded again. "Lieutenant Christina-T'Prinn Caine," she said, making something of a self-deprecating face, "and probably better for all concerned if you just call me Caine. Bit much of a mouthful for day-to-day. Sickbay." The turbolift hummed underneath her and she watched the doors as it moved, waiting to be allowed to step off it again. "Nice to meet you...Caine. You did a decent job back there." He looked her up and down and grinned. "You'd have made a good marine." "I suppose I'm expected to take that as a compliment?" Caine asked laconically, quirking an eyebrow again and taking on a mock-expression of utter seriousness. She liked this Matthews, despite the first impression he had done his best to make; he clearly took his job seriously, but not the life surrounding it -- a good mix which she approved of. "Thanks, but I'd say the gold collar suits me better." Owen nodded. "Fair enough. But you'd be welcome down here anytime. Maybe we could have a sparring fight every now and then." The doors slid open and Caine exited as quickly as she could, stepping out into the relative openness of the corridor. She glanced around to determine in which direction the sickbay was and jerked her head towards it as she began to walk. "You're on, Captain Matthews," she said, the slow grin climbing back on to her face. "I never turn down a challenge." Owen noticed that Caine walked out of the TL rather more quickly than usual. Being a good observer was part of the job description. "Don't like being in there, eh?" Caine's cheerful expression didn't shift at his words. It had taken enough doing to convince Commander Russell back at Alpha Centauri Medical that the claustrophobia she had picked up during the Soltan attack on Earth would not interfere with her duties; she had no intention of turning it into rumor mill fodder. There were times when her father's abortive attempts to train her in emotional control could come in a certain amount of handy. "You're the one bleeding out of your skull; thought you might appreciate a little bit of haste," she said dryly. She would have to be more careful. Matthews made an involuntary move to reach to the back of his head but thought better of it. "It's just a scratch, I've had worse." Actually this was not just a phrase to show off -- it was the truth. "Let's see what the docs say." With that he led the way into sickbay and looked around.

//ACCESS GRANTED -- DISPLAYING FILE// Name: Christina-T'Prinn Caine (Note: For personal address, prefers simply "Caine"). Rank: Lieutenant, Senior Grade Born: 2350 Age: 47 (approx. physical equivalent to 30- or 35-year-old full human) Race: Vulcan/Human hybrid Currently Assigned: USS Agincourt (NCC-81762, Prometheus-class) Current Position: Chief of Security/Tactical Officer APPEARANCE: Hair: Blonde, short. Eyes: Gray Height: 5'9" Weight: 150 lbs. FAMILY: Father: Saren, child of Talen and T'Renn, former professor of astrophysics, Vulcan Science Academy. Mother: Rebecca Caine, former Federation ambassador to Vulcan. (deceased) Elder Half-Brother: Sorak, professor of astrophysics, Vulcan Science Academy (Saren's son by bonded marriage to T'Mara, child of Stenn and T'Lanna). Age 107. PERSONAL HISTORY: After the death of his first wife, the Vulcan astrophysicist Saren remained unmarried for nearly fifty years until he encountered Rebecca Caine, a fiery Federation diplomatic attache who proved to be nearly his intellectual equal on a variety of subjects from science to politics. The two of them corresponded and occasionally met throughout Caine's career with the diplomatic corps; when she finally left it in 2350, she returned to Vulcan for good. She and Saren were married in 2351. Despite the strength of their marriage (which endured until Rebecca's death in 2382), both Rebecca and Saren were firmly attached to their cultural heritage; as a result, their first and only child bore the unwieldy appellation Christina-T'Prinn Caine. She grew up, unsurprisingly, with many shorter modes of address, generally depending on whose company she was in. To her father and half-brother, she was "T'Prinn." To her mother she was "Chris" or "Chrissy." To any other non-family acquaintances, she was generally just "Caine," by her own preference; she was fiercely independent from a young age and preferred the more generic identifiers rather than taking sides with either parent. A strong-willed and opinionated child, she inherited her mother's vigor and her father's intelligence, and was a voracious reader of almost anything she could get her hands on. By her early teens she could hold her own in debates and discussion with her father's scientific colleagues. Despite Saren's efforts on the subject, she never applied herself to the complex mental discipline and emotional control characteristic to Vulcans, but she did absorb a great deal of their day-to-day philosophies, which would color her outlook for the rest of her life. Her parents instilled within her the ideal that "the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few," which eventually developed, in their personal family canon, into the creed that it was one's duty to themselves and to the galaxy at large to take advantage of one's abilities for the benefit of a wider whole; to do anything less was illogical. With this in mind, her father assumed that she would follow him into academia, as she had a strong capacity for absorbing and disseminating knowledge on a wide variety of subjects; in Saren's opinion, this ability was her most important talent and he took great pains to cultivate it throughout her childhood. As she grew older, however, Caine's independent personality began to rebel slightly against the rigid mental discipline and intellectualism Saren attempted to foster within her, feeling that she had other skills to offer and that the course of her life was being decided for her. The Vulcan gene being dominant over human physiology, she had also inherited her father's physical strength and stamina, and she enjoyed exercising it as much as challenging her mental faculties. Under the disapproving eyes of her parents, she began training in numerous forms of martial arts, eventually leaving Vulcan several times to participate in competitions. She was quick, strong, and (in that same spirit of not wasting the abilities given to her) a powerful and decisive fighter who wasted no time in bringing an opponent down. She discovered she had a gift for tactical strategy; she could analyze a fight situation very quickly and pursue the most efficient course of attack. Her absolute devotion to victory might have been classified as vindictive, had it not been utterly driven by the idea that it was a crime to do anything less than her best with the skills that she had cultivated. She clearly had a natural aptitude for combat and strategy and took great satisfaction in those abilities, and valued them for their potential for greater public service. As she entered her late teens, she expressed an interest in leaving Vulcan to join Starfleet, viewing it as illogical to remain on her home planet, a scientist among scientists, when she might do more good in the service of their protection. Her father, who had recently been engaged as a professor at the Vulcan Science Academy where her brother was also attending, disapproved of this plan. However, her mother, with her greater experience in the quadrant at large, supported Caine in her decision and approved of her desire to put her more unique skills where they would be most useful. Caine entered Starfleet Academy with security and spaceborne tactical conflict concentrations in 2368. EDUCATION: She progressed quickly through her training. The protection of "the needs of the many" were her only goal; it drove her as her scientific work never had. Her natural aptitude for physical exertion and tactical strategy in personal combat gave her an edge over her classmates and she found she had a talent for leadership in more elaborate conflict simulations. Additionally, despite the fact that she did not maintain the traditional Vulcan facade, that side of her racial heritage still showed. Her professors noted her ability to think quickly and retain her calm no matter how difficult the situation, and her gift for tactical strategy and for quickly assessing a situation and creating a viable solution, so much like a computer, earned her the nickname "Prototype" from her classmates -- some admiring, others jealous. She also continued her scientific studies but in the context of her security and tactical work -- astrophysics as related to the use and interaction of surrounding phenomena during tactical combat, xenobiology as related to weak spots in different alien physiologies. The latter also led her to a minor in triage medicine and disaster relief strategy, something which her natural calm and leadership abilities lended her ably to. She graduated with high honors in 2372. SERVICE JACKET Upon leaving the Academy, Caine was assigned to the USS Tripoli (NCC-19386-A, Nebula-class) as a relief tactical officer and assistant security chief, just in time for the outbreak of the Dominion War in 2373. The Tripoli played a large part in the war, fighting at both the Battle of Torros III in 2373 and Operation Return in 2374, both major Allied victories, and Caine distinguished herself at both, though as relief tactical she did not participate in the majority of the fighting. It was not until the Second Battle of Chin'toka in 2375 that she really became immersed in the war. Second Chin'toka was a terrible defeat for the Allies and the Tripoli shared in it entirely. She suffered massive casualties; a full three-quarters of her crew were killed, the majority when a blast from a Cardassian ship sheared off most of their saucer's port side. About half the bridge crew was incapacitated in one form or another by the end of the battle, including the chief tactical officer. Caine took over in the chaos and was mostly responsible for the fact that the ship managed to escape the battle at all. She was highly commended by her commanding officer after the fact for her cool-headedness under pressure, and, thus marked as a valuable officer, was transferred back into the fighting almost at once, this time aboard the USS Drake (NCC-48414, Miranda-class), where she took the tactical console for the ship at the Battle of Cardassia. With the end of the Dominion War, Caine was transferred back to Earth; though offered leave, she refused to take it, preferring to remain in the action where possible. However, Starfleet wished to offer her a respite from the constant battles she had been involved in during the war and thus assigned her to Starbase 54 as part of their security detail, where she remained for the next six years. In 2381 she returned to shipboard duty aboard the USS Adamant (NCC-32351, Nebula-class), a border-patrol and exploration ship which was assigned to a mapping expedition on the edge of Federation territory -- she further distinguished herself there in away-team security work and as a shipboard tactical officer. She remained aboard the Adamant until 2393, when the ship participated in the Federation's contribution to the Battle of Romulus. Having survived that battle, the Adamant served for one more year before being decommissioned and her crew reassigned to various ships throughout the quadrant. Caine was sent back to Starbase 54 for three years, with a diversion for two months when she was assigned to the official Federation security detail at the signing of the 2395 Treaty of Versailles. She returned to Earth for reassignment to shipboard duty in late 2397 just in time to be present at the Soltan attack on the planet; she was in the vicinity of Starfleet Academy when the attack started and ended up taking charge of the evacuation of many of the cadets. She managed to get some of them to relative shelter (though some, she later found, were killed anyway); she herself was inside one of the buildings when it was struck by a Soltan blast and collapsed. In total she was buried in the wreckage with a crushed leg and severe concussion for almost three days. She was finally rescued and sent to a medical facility at Alpha Centauri, where she remained to heal for the next several weeks. When she was deemed physically fit for duty again, she was assigned to the USS Agincourt (NCC-81762, Prometheus-class) as Chief of Security. MEDICAL RECORDS: //MEDICAL PROFILE// //Lieutenant Commander Angela Ellis, Starfleet Medical// //Medical Supervisor, Alpha Centauri III// Lieutenant Caine's body has undergone a great deal of abuse -- par for the course in her line of work, but a situation which always engenders a certain amount of concern when the question comes up of whether a given officer is physically fit for duty. However, she is extremely strong both physically and mentally; some of the natural healing prowess and resiliency of her Vulcan ancestry has seen her through a great deal. Aside from a shrapnel wound sustained during the Battle of Cardassia, her greatest injury to date has been that sustained in the recent Soltan attack; however, her leg seems to have been returned to its proper soundness. We have been monitoring her for the last few weeks but all indications seem to suggest that she is returned to a level of physical fitness suitable for a reassignment to starship posting. I endorse Lieutenant Caine's transfer to the USS Agincourt. //PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE// //Commander Edward Russell, Starfleet Medical-Psychology// //Commanding Officer/Staff Psychologist, Alpha Centauri III// Lieutenant Caine's psychological evaluations from her Academy days onward suggest that her motivation for a Starfleet career has always been the desire to do good on as grand a scale as possible; however, the earliest of those evaluations suggest that she began with something of a romanticized view of that career, not really taking into account the darker aspects. Beginning with her experience at Second Chin'toka, however, she was forced into a more realistic view of war and Fleet operations, and it seems to have changed her outlook entirely. It did not precisely sour her on the path she had entered upon; if anything it turned her desire to fight, win, and protect into something like an obsessive drive. It has also deepened her personality drastically; though still blunt, outspoken, and independent, she has turned soberer, taking on a little bit more of the Vulcan personality as she has gotten older -- generally, the more dire the situation, the more "Vulcan" in attitude she becomes. This determined calm, combined with one of the finest tactical senses in the Fleet, has made her very accomplished at the job she does. She has recently acquired one psychological weakness which makes me slightly reluctant to sign off on her transfer back to shipboard duty -- she was trapped for three days beneath building wreckage during the Soltan attack on Earth and the experience has left her with a dangerously powerful claustrophobia. However, she assures me that she is aware of the problem and that she will not allow it to interfere with her duties. The strength of character and self-awareness that she has displayed in the past leads me to believe that she is capable of this and so (with this warning) I endorse her transfer to the Agincourt as soon as possible.