"Attitude"

[Kansas 0]

Note: the following joint log is set in the Avaros Mirror Universe log plot line, occurring right after the events in “Avaros: In the Combat Zone” (Caine Log)

 

Written by: Lieutenant (sg) C.T. “Junior” Caine and Commander Kansas “Will” JoNs

 

06.14.09

ISS Agincourt NCC-81762

“Attitude”

 

Caine stepped off the transporter on the ISS Agincourt and gave a curt nod at the tech who had beamed her aboard before stepping out into the corridor. She was covered in battlefield muck and bore a cut freely bleeding under her ear which had been left by the knife of one of the low-grade rebels with whom she had been forced to grapple hand-to-hand. She paid it no attention. The situation planetside was in a better condition than her uniform, and that was the important bit anyway. Most of the rabble-rousers had been stamped out, the rest fleeing into the hills around the city where the chaos had been centered. Caine had done her job; the rest was all cleanup.

 

Quite frankly, she was less enthused about the duty she had to undertake now than she had been at the prospect of close-range ground combat with a bunch of whelps with guns bigger than they knew how to handle. She would have to report in to JoNs -- the first time she had been forced to speak to the Caitian XO since she had come aboard two weeks beforehand.

 

She stepped into a turbolift which sent her in the direction of JoNs's office, located within the depths of the Marine NNC command center, and then stepped off and approached the door, pinging the chime with an impatient flick of the wrist.

 

A muffled "Enter!" was called out from the interior confines of the executive officers private office, the purred voice muffled by the separation bulkhead and entrance door, but the tone clear and business like.

 

The doors slid open and Caine stepped through, her grey eyes scanning the room with practiced efficiency for threat or surprise before lighting silently on JoNs waiting inside.

 

The feline XO's office was a typical layout design for the Imperial Starfleet: dark gray decking, lighter silver bulkheads, standard issue desk of the same type of material and coloring. There were a few personal items strewn about the office though, to where the area could be considered somewhat of a home: a medium sized woven Caitian wall hanging was affixed to a side bulkhead, the bright tribal colors interwoven throughout the item in contrast to the sterile functional design of the area. Two of the shelves held a few items from the Caitians travels in her career. The bulkhead wall behind the desk sported a smaller sized view screen for any in office debriefing sessions, with a sword and dagger set affixed to the bulkhead just above the viewer.

 

Commander JoNs sat in the desk chair, one furred forearm resting on the desk while she read a few report updates regarding the current Avarosian surface situation; the felinoid officer did not acknowledge the senior security Lieutenant right away, and finished reading the report on her personal desktop computer screen before turning her attention to the Vulcan female.

 

A thick golden paw flipped the flat screen monitor off with the touch of the keyboard inset on the surface of the desk. "You have a report to make to me Lieutenant Caine?" JoNs's green eyes were intent on the Vulcan, and they held a minor glint of intention.

 

Caine inclined her head slowly, meeting the firm gaze with a cold unblinking one of her own. "Situation is stable planetside; the insurgents have been routed from their tactical strongholds and the last of them are being hunted down individually."

 

In contrast to the Vulcan officers bedraggled appearance, Kansas had cleaned up after her stint planet side. She wore her typical command red sleevless uniform tunic and black trousers, the neck wound she had received had been cleaned and bandaged, and she wore her ever present scuffed and silver toned weapons utility belt. The feline leaned back in her desk chair, steepling her paws. Her outward easygoing body language did not telegraph her mental state or her intentions.

 

"Good and well done Caine. I know from firsthand experience that the security snipers you assigned to the detachment team performed above and beyond the call of duty. You chose well."

 

Caine couldn't resist a slight cool smile. "There was never any question of that, sir." Which was of course not true, but Caine would rather have shot herself than admitted to the Cait that there had ever been any uncertainty to her tactical decisions. Not only would it have been galling, but with the currently unstable nature of her new authority here, it could have been actively dangerous.

 

JoNs had not offered the Lieutenant a seat, and now the golden furred Cait removed herself from her seat and amiably walked around the desk to perch her rear end on the edge of the desk, crossing her arms across her chest as she continued speaking to Caine in a neutral, command officer tone. "In addition, I see by your Avaros ground reports that the dirt side teams performed admirably as well."

 

Caine nodded again, feeling herself tensing in proportion to the neutral affability which JoNs was displaying. "I could find nothing to fault in the teams which I have received to work with." Except a certain lingering loyalty to you on some accounts... she added silently. But they will learn.

 

A tail swish from JoNs. "Now, we move onward to the more unpleasant aspects of this most recent ground skirmish that your department engaged in." The felinoid cocked her head to one side, and her green eyes took on a glint of hardness.

 

Unpleasant...sir?" Caine asked. She honestly wasn't sure what exactly JoNs might be leading up to but the look in the Cait's eyes was suddenly a little worrisome. Caine's bearing stiffened even further.

 

The leonine feline uncrossed her arms and in one easy motion unholstered her sawed off plasma shotgun from its sheath, worn low on her leg; she laid the weapon down on the desk, off to her side and to set directly in front of Caine. "You familiar with ballistic energy weapons at all Caine?" She made a pointed gesture with a paw at the prone short barreled shotgun.

 

The weapon in question was about forty years old, give or take a couple years. It had started out its inanimate life as a Falcon Centauri GX model, and still maintained the same basic design lines, but over the intervening years the shotgun had been tweaked and updated and soldered into a custom sidearm.

 

Caine's eyes flicked down from Kansas's face to the stocky weapon and back up to its owner. "There are few weapons I can't turn to my use with minimal difficulty," she allowed cautiously. "Ballistics such as that included."

 

"That shotgun has been in my family for well over thirty plus years. Do you know why it is still in working condition Mister Caine?"

 

Caine said nothing. If there was a point to this, JoNs would no doubt get to it just as well without the half-Vulcan CSEC paying her lip service.

 

The Caitian took her silence as an invitation to continue with her litany. "The weapon item is still useable because it has been properly maintained with the proper cleaning and upkeep procedures. Procedures do have their uses, correct Lieutenant Caine?"

 

Caine had a feeling that she knew where this was going now, and she didn't like it. She nodded almost imperceptibly, acknowledging the point but still saying nothing. Let the cat blow the wind out of her system if she had to.

 

"So, this brings me to my next question, Lieutenant," at this, Kansas's eyes went piercing, and her ears flew back in displeasure, "If maintaining procedure is so important, then why is it that you ordered a change up in the tactical procedures about halfway through the Avaros warehouse property engagement ... without clearing with or informing the command team or the bridge of your intent. I understand the need for on the fly decisions, mind, but some word would have been, oh I don't know ... nice?"

 

Caine found herself taking a cold pleasure in the annoyed expression on the XO's face. "I assure you, Commander, I was quite busy enough without...courtesy calls. You see me now with the first five-minute stretch altogether where I wasn't shouting orders since ten o'clock last night." Her tone was absolutely steady, intended to hopefully irritate the XO, in whom Caine could read thoroughly emotional exasperation.

 

Kansas had by now moved from her perch on the desk to slowly pace about Caine where the Vulcan woman stood at parade rest; the office of the Caitian exec was just big enough for the Commander to do the lurking vulture pace quite effectively as an intimidation factor, and she moved in just close enough for her fur to brush up against Caine’s uniform.

 

When the feline senior officer was standing directly behind the Vulcan woman, she stood on her tippy paws in order to be able to speak in a whisper at a pointed Vulcanoid ear. "You didn't report in on the change in the tactical appraisals. That's not the way we do things here El Tee."

 

Caine, with her expression now hidden from JoNs's view, was free to give reign to a grimace of frustration at the dramatics. "The situation was such that taking the time to do so might have cost us the position I wanted. I apologize if the lack of communication pricked your ego," she said, allowing a tinge of impatience into her voice.

 

The commander zoomed back around to stand in front of the Vulcan chief of security, both her movements and feline expressions taking on a predatory lilt now. "Yes. Ego. The ego can be one officer’s downfall and another officer’s promotion, don't you agree?"

 

The tail had started to steadily swish back and forth with the Caits minor level of annoyance at the female security officer’s minor breach in established 'Court protocol. "You know Caine, our commanding officer gets real tetchy at these sorts of issues ... I should know. Perhaps I should just forward your case onto her, hmmmm?"

 

"Perhaps -- and be sure to explain to her why you feel the need to bother her with a request for discipline for an officer doing her job..." Caine growled. "I've known commanding officers to get...tetchy...at that sort of thing as well."

 

"Well, fortunately, we can handle this little matter privately here Lieutenant. You could have reported in, or called for one of the marine communications officers on the ground detail to make the on the fly report ...." Kansas began to fiddle with the Agonizer badge affixed to the left chest area of Caines uniform, set just below the shoulder.

 

"I could. I did not. I have explained my reasons," Caine replied. It took a great deal of practiced effort to make no response to the soft touch of the paw against her upper chest. The punishment would come anyway -- JoNs had decided that before Caine had even entered the room. Caine refused to give her the satisfaction of cowering for her. "Punish me for my success, Commander, please, if that is what a Cait qualifies as...good procedure..." The last word came out in a hiss.

 

The Commander continued to fiddle with the badge device, her claws flicking the disciplinary conveyance while her chin jutted out to a blatantly defiant angle of one who had made a decision. "Actually, this whole meeting depended on you, Lieutenant Caine, your attitude, the way you handled yourself with me. Procedure is all well and good, and it needs to be maintained. But, I'm not a complete jackass - and no, you may not comment on that - and I realize that at times, skirmishes leave very little room for doing anything else other then trying to get your butt out of the line of fire .... you however, Mister Caine, are in due need of a check in reality as to this current assignment and what we expect of you here - check in next time. Hell, send a carrier pigeon." Her paw slammed down on the Agonizer.

 

Caine's body spasmed as pain blossomed from the badge all over her torso, down her legs, up her neck, every nerve ending screaming as if it had a lit match pressed to it. Her jaw clenched and she tried to hold in a reaction but a roar of agony fought its way up her throat and out into the air emerging as a strangled groan. She staggered, her weight half-held for a moment by JoNs's arm pressed against her chest.

 

Kansas recognized the Agonizer as a necessary evil for maintaining discipline at times. On average though, the Caitian did not go about blitzing crew left and right - it just was not in her nature. She pressed her paw to the device for a few short seconds, her muzzle twisted into a distasteful expression at one of the more unpleasant aspects of her duties. Then, as quickly as the event occurred, she dropped her paw from the badge device.

 

Caine released an involuntary gasp as the pain suddenly ceased, and she made a rather pathetic attempt to regain her dignity. Her chest heaving, she brought her eyes up towards JoNs's. Caine, unlike the XO, had only the highest respect for the Agonizer as a disciplinary tool, but there was a whole world of difference between using it on a subordinate and having it used on herself. The former was useful, the latter humiliating, and the Vulcan lieutenant did not enjoy humiliation, especially not at the hands of a Cait.

 

But JoNs had made quite a point, though not the one she had intended to make. It would take far more power than the Caitian officer wielded in her whole body to make Caine truly respect her authority in any way other than the one obligated by the uniform she wore. However, it was clear that she had allowed too much of that to come through in her bearing, too much of her dislike to influence her actions. Sooner or later she would be allowed to put the Cat in her place, but she had placed herself in danger of receiving professional degradation in pursuit of it. That would not do. Patience was needed here as well as blunt vindictiveness. Caine could do patience.

 

"Understood..." she said coolly, when her breathing had slowed enough for her to do so. "Anything further...Commander?"

 

JoNs fixed the senior Lieutenant with a flat look, yet her eyes danced with the hard aggression common to an officer following the command track. It wasn’t all about reports and looking pretty in the uniform. “Just get yourself cleaned up and those wounds tended to Lieutenant and back to your post. Dismissed.”