"Backlash"

[Kansas_Jones 0]

02.27.08

USS Agincourt NCC-81762

“Backlash”

Written by: Colonel Harper and Lt. Commander JoNs

 

Swiftly moving across what had previously been the scene of Armageddon -- well no, not quite that bad, but close -- JoNs did a thorough once over of the secured area. Satisfied that all of the security teams had cleared the area and were back on board the ship, she tapped at her borrowed comm badge to initiate transport back to the ship. “JoNs here, one to beam up.”

 

The transporter effect caught her, occluding the planet and then clearing to reveal the familiar clean lines of the Agincourt's transporter room. Harper stood beside the operator's console, and she turned to the officer there. "Take a break, Chief," she said in a friendly tone, but the man looked from her to the Caitian, swallowed once, nodded, and took himself out.

 

JoNs was a bit surprised to see the colonel there, but took the development in stride. She stepped down lightly from the transporter, her hind paws making no sound on the decking. "Ma'am, the target area is clear and secured, and all security teams are home."

 

"All teams," Harper repeated, reflectively, then fixed JoNs with a look and added, "and now, all lone operatives as well."

 

Golden fur glistening in the overhead lighting, Kansas flipped her right ear back in curiosity at the operative remark. "Lone operatives? No Ma'am, this op was team based, obviously." Her head cocked to one side.

 

Her voice still deceptively mild, the colonel said, "Then perhaps you can explain why you, alone, were out of touch with Agincourt and your supposed teammates, and why you, alone, are standing here when all the others beamed up in their teams."

 

Still not understanding the reasoning to Harper's questioning, the feline security officer nevertheless endeavored to answer what was asked of her. "In the process of securing the perimeter, my comm was damaged. This, however, did not compromise the intended mission. Every being had their orders, knew what was expected and what to do. I proceeded to take point guard for the op." The Caitian waited expectantly, as if the statement explained everything.

 

"By yourself," Harper said, in the tone of someone confirming details she already knew.

 

"Yes ma'am. Standard procedure was followed, either a two man or one man point guard, depending on said operation." There was still a slight question in the lieutenant’s tone as to where this line of questioning was heading, also known as ‘why are we revisiting Academy Security 101’.

 

She nodded. "Standard procedure. And you felt that this operation -- this operation in an unknown, hostile area, in which your comm was damaged -- called for a one-man point guard."

 

JoNs was starting to grow uncomfortable at the level of scrutiny, and Harper's intense gaze was not helping matters. "Yes ma'am. And it just happened to be myself. I scouted the area, and was prepared to touch base with one of my men in case of an emergency. If I needed to get out in a hurry, I was capable of that as well."

 

"And if," the colonel's voice was very soft, "you had been wounded? Incapacitated? Captured?"

 

The softness in Harper's voice did more to unsettle Kansas then anything, but her reply was still prompt and strong. "Those factors did not come into play Colonel. My lacking a working communicator was a risk but it wasn't a debilitating factor, obviously, since the operation succeeded."

 

"I see." Harper paused for a moment, and her voice hardened. "So, in your view, luck outweighs stupidity?"

 

JoNs startled slightly at the change in the colonel’s tone, but didn’t break her parade rest stance. Her brow creased in confusion, and some anger. "I beg your pardon, sir." The statement was not an apology.

 

"You heard me, Commander." There was a brittle edge in Harper's voice now, and the volume was steadily rising. "You were stupid and you were lucky, and you can't count on the latter to save you from the former next time!"

 

JoNs didn't raise her voice, but her ears went flat with controlled defiance. "You are questioning my decisions Colonel." Her statement held the tone of a righteous accusation.

 

"I'm not questioning your decisions, JoNs; I'm flat-out insulting them," Harper rapped back. "What I'm questioning is your common sense and your survival instinct. Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

 

Kansas now stood full on defiant, parade stance forgotten, her tail lashing. She pointed a claw at the senior commanding officer. "No sir! I am not trying to get myself killed! I as well as every member of my team came back from that planet alive. I would say that very much counts for not getting killed"

 

Taking a step forward, Harper growled back, "That would be the 'luck' part, Commander. Did you stop to think about the possible consequences of your - I hesitate to call it a 'decision' - action?"

 

Ignoring the small part of her brain that was screaming for her to back down and retreat, the Caitian went nose to nose, or in this case nose to chest, with the taller marine officer. Her glare and the stubborn set to her chin spoke volumes. "Yes I did! I would not have been down there and my team would not have been down on that planet, or participated in that operation, if I didn't. All factors were taken into considerations with regard to my actions. Do not claim luck or irresponsibility on my part with regard to what I did or didn't do just because my methods differ from yours Colonel!"

 

"Your actions are going to land you dead, JoNs!" Harper shouted, taking a half-step back to glare down at the woman better. "Are you hearing me? We couldn't raise you, we couldn't lock on to you, and if something had happened to you the rest of your team wouldn't have been able to do a thing about it."

 

Her voice now a low growl, Kansas shot back. "I have no choice but to hear you as you are yelling in my face Colonel!" She as well took a half step back as she stated that. "I did not have a communicator for a short while, yes, I admit that. Yes, I was out of contact with the ship. If I was captured or injured then yes, that would have presented a problem. I should have procured another communicator prior to engaging in the full scope of the op. But I didn't. At this point, what’s done is done." Despite the truth behind the statement, the Caitian’s stance and gaze still held blatant defiance.

 

"You -- gods!" Harper spun on a heel and paced, two steps away, two back. When she spoke again, it was in a quieter tone, but the brittleness was still raw, and she looked over the Caitian's shoulder to the transporter pads beyond. "You have no idea, Commander, how much can go wrong even when you do everything right."

 

"No Ma'am, apparently I do not automatically assume that all of the ops that I participate in will go to Hades in a Hand Basket."

 

That sharply redirected the colonel's full attention - and glare - to the Caitian. "I don't want to hear attitude from you, Commander," she snarled. "You've screwed this one up six ways to Sunday as it is."

 

JoNs leveled a hiss of displeasure at Harper.

 

Harper was taken aback; she couldn't recall having been literally hissed at before. She was seized with an odd desire to scruff the smaller woman like a kitten, but pushed it down. "Arrogant, c***-sure, immature -- and you're really pushing for 'insubordinate', too," she said instead. "You think you're immortal? You think things will play out right just because?"

 

"Why is it, whenever an officer gets a mission or job completed, and it does not necessarily agree with another persons own interpretation of how said mission should have been completed, then the former person is automatically immature and wrong, sir?"

 

"You're feeling pretty good right now, huh?" Harper got up in JoNs's face, backing her against the transporter platform. "Got the job done, braved the risks, saved the team, rah rah. Feeling like a hero?" A sound of disgust. "We work in teams for a reason, Commander; primarily, to have someone haul your ass out of the fire when things go wrong! And they will. There are plenty of good people, people who worked by the book, who are dead now because too many things went wrong."

 

The feline officer glanced quickly over her shoulder at the platform, and then turned her full attention back to Harper; green eyes met blue ones, both holding an equally dangerous glint in their depths. "Sir, I never, and do not, have delusions of being a hero - I do my job. I am also not one of the dead Sir, considering, as stated before, that I am standing here before you now."

 

She savagely poked her paw into the small amount of space left between her and the commanding marine officer, to illustrate her point: claws retracted, thank you very much. "I know why we use teams Colonel - I do not need lessons on the matter."

 

"Don't you?" the colonel challenged. "Your blatant disregard for them tells me otherwise."

 

"I've already stated my case, Colonel. I used a small sniper team and a one man point guard in what was very much a by the book procedure for this planetary ground mission. I am not driving this into the decking again with you. Excuse me sir." JoNs moved, heading across the space toward the sliding doors.

 

"We're not finished, Commander!" White heat ran through Harper's tone. She seized the Caitian by the arm and spun her around, pressing her back against the transporter console. "The last thing I need out here is a chief of security who decides to run off and... play cowboy on a mission! So you listen to me, and listen good, Commander." She paused a moment, her face centimeters from JoNs's, breathing hard.

 

A yelp of surprise escaped JoNs when Harper pinned her against the console, but her ears stayed flat in anger. "Fine. That is just fine ma'am. Do you want to hear that I played cowboy? Dammit sir! That was not my intention down there on the planet, and I tire of defending myself! I will do my job as security chief, if you will just damn well let me!"

 

"Intentions aren't worth spit, JoNs," Harper snapped, giving the woman's arm a shake. "You want to know what happens when Murphy's Law kicks in on an op? Do you?" She shook the Caitian once more and then released her, only to viciously yank up her uniform top and tank, baring her right side. A thick ridge of scarring came wrapping from the back, at the bottom of her ribcage, over the front and vanished beneath her waistband over her right hip. The skin around it was half-shiny with the tracery of thinner scars. "This is what happens, JoNs. This is what happens when you do it right; you want to imagine what happens when you do it wrong?"

 

The Caitian stared at the twisted scar tissue that had once been Harpers side. She put a paw out, as if to touch the injury, and then stopped. The level of pain inflicted upon the marine, both at the onset of the injury and during her recovery time, must have been incredible. She managed to speak in a choked purr. "My gods."

 

Harper let the shirt drop, stepping back from JoNs silently.

 

The security officer’s expression was stricken with a sad understanding as she gazed at the marine. "That's why you said what you did. It was concern. Why you landed on me the way you did."

 

A barely perceptible nod acknowledged the realization. When she spoke, her voice was rough, but striving for the sternness of before. "If I see this kind of reckless behavior again, you'll be living up to our term for you goldshirts - sticking to the ship like a barnacle."

 

JoNs responded with a simple, "Yes sir. I will avoid playing cowboy." Gods, I must have scared the hell out of her when I was out of contact.

"You'd better, JoNs. I've lost too damn many people under my command already." She folded her arms. "It will not happen again." There was a note in Harper's voice that was not directed at the Caitian, but seemed to dare the universe at large to defy her edicts.

 

"No ma'am, it will not happen again."

 

"Good." The colonel nodded, briskly tugging her jacket straight again. "Then we won't be needed to discuss this again... I'm trusting you, Kansas." She clapped a hand on the young officer's shoulder, offering a smile.

 

Kansas reached to clamp her paw over Harper's hand in acknowledgment to the trust.