Playground Squabble ((JoNs/Caine/Harper))

[C.T. Caine 0]

Commander Kansas 'Will' JoNs stalked into the mess hall area, data PADD device gripped firmly in one paw, tail lashing in agitation. The feline Imperial officer was intent on engaging in a working dinner, and eating of course, but she also had some words to share with another occupant that she had tracked to the dining area as well.

 

The golden furred Caitian made a bee line for one Lieutenant C.T. Caine, Chief Security Officer of the ISS Agincourt and a current friggin' thorn in the Cat's side. Petty Officer Darjhan, JoNs's junior personal bodyguard, followed in her wake, long having given up trying to talk the feline out of her current course of public action.

 

With no warning as to her intent -- other then the controlled cold fury etched across her leonine features -- JoNs arrived at the intended section of the mess hall area where Caine was sitting at one of the tables; she placed her free paw flat on the surface of the slate blue table, and pinned the half Vulcan where she sat with bright green eyes that were practically sparking.

 

"The only thing preventing me from slapping a paw on your badge and Agonizing the freakin' hoo rah out of you right now is my apparently impeccable restraint. You took it to the next level, and now the game is on. Now watch me run with the ball Lieutenant."

 

The Commander’s tone was at a hissed whisper, but of course any of the senior officers and senior enlisted eating within the mess hall and worth their Imperial stripes were listening in; the clink and clank of cutlery against the dishes had abruptly quieted down, and if you were sitting close enough to the pair -- actually, two officers from Sciences got up from their table and walked the hell away, quickly -- you could overhear the feline quite clearly.

 

Caine, who had been halfway through a bite of some truly disappointing beef stew, set her fork down, chewed deliberately, and swallowed before looking towards the feline officer who had approached her. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the four other security officers at the table moving themselves into various postures of attention at the sight of the Cait opening what certainly appeared to be a hostile dialogue. Crewman Decatur's ever-present broad-shouldered bulk next to her shifted as if to stand up, but she gestured him into stillness for the moment and smiled coldly.

 

The Cait feline’s fiery personality was an easy one to rile if allowed to bounce off an ice block for long enough, and Caine had no intention of giving her the satisfaction of a reaction of fear or submission. She was not afraid of the XO's threats; as a matter of fact she was somewhat amused that the young officer had allowed herself to bring their fight out into the open, not that the potential for embarrassment on JoNs's part bothered Caine much.

 

"I can provide a ball of yarn you to run with, if it's really what you want, Commander..." she said, her impassive tone laced with a taunting air.”But perhaps you might find it more productive to focus on your duties."

 

Ensign Farragut, across the table, snorted, and a ripple of laughter went around the table. Caine didn't join in it but kept her expression motionless, staring back at the XO without blinking.

 

Commander JoNs ignored the Security cronies, and continued to glare at the blond haired Vulcan female. A low growl sounded from the back of her throat.

 

"You really can't leave it go, can you Caine? If you keep yourself in the past, you'll never launch into the future. No wonder you're still at the Lieutenant rank - you're too damn hidebound."

 

Caine let her fork drop into her stew with a low clatter and let her fists tighten against the table at the dig towards her rank. Standing slowly, she pitched her voice lower, unlike her Caitian adversary, so that only JoNs could hear. Her tone was cold as stone. "You know perfectly well why I am still a Lieutenant, sir. You're treading on shaky ground."

 

The felinoid officer stepped closer to the taller woman -- and really, everyone was taller then the Cat -- and stuck her chin out defiantly. "Lieutenant, you have a knack for putting the blinders on, big time, don't you?"

 

By now, several more of the mess hall patrons in the immediate vicinity of the word showdown had started to run for the hills, figuratively.

 

"Commander...I'm not the one who was so ignorant of the tactical situation that I felt it prudent to abandon my post in pursuit of a business--" Caine snapped but was cut off as the mess doors suddenly hissed open at that moment, and the Colonel strode in, flanked on either side by her bodyguards.

 

Her face set in a still mask, her eyes scanned over the room and came to rest unerringly on the two angry women. "You and you," she ordered, pointing to JoNs and Caine in turn. "With me. Now." What was left of noise in the room went dead.

 

Without turning to face her commanding officer, and keeping her eyesight locked on the recalcitrant Lieutenant Caine, Commander JoNs spoke in a steady though direct tone. "Colonel, Sir, I'd very much prefer to handle this little matter myself."

 

Harper, not expecting to be disobeyed, was already halfway out the door again. She paused, and slowly turned back. "Something wrong with your ears, Commander?"

 

"No Colonel. Apologies Sir." JoNs moved to take the lead trailer spot in Harpers wake. Hell, if Caine shoots me in the back, I can bring her up on charges.

 

Caine smirked, glanced at the security officers at the table behind her and then turned to follow them out, keeping her eyes on Kansas as the executive officer moved behind the colonel. She had no intention of shooting anyone in the back -- but was, however, both surprised and pleased that she was apparently going to be privy to watching whatever discipline from the front which JoNs was about to have meted out to her.

 

Harper ignored them both all the way to her Ready Room. Once inside, with the doors secured and her guards stationed outside, she turned to the recalcitrant pair and treated them to a sub-zero glare.

 

Petty Officer Darjhan remained outside as well with Harpers guards, standing well away from the Marine guards, thank you very much.

 

Meanwhile, within the confines of the commanding officers Ready Room, Kansas, from her ramrod straight stance next to the Lieutenant, spoke out the side of her muzzle. "You called down the Thunder Caine, now you get to deal with her. Hope you're satisfied."

 

Caine did not respond, merely looked straight forward at Colonel Harper with the hint of a smirk still showing on her face, her hands laced behind her back.

 

"So." Harper tucked her hands into the small of her back, falling into the same posture she used to conduct inspections. She rather felt like she was conducting one now -- of raw cadets. "Which of you would like to explain why I'm playing referee in my senior officers’ power games?"

 

A feline ear flipped back, but the Commander deferentially kept her attention fixed at a distant point on the bulkhead located behind Harper's head. "I'll let spit and polish over here roll with that one."

 

Caine shot JoNs a look sidelong, and then glanced back to Harper. "I contacted you as a result of what I perceived to be a dangerous breach of behavior, sir...I assumed you would want to be...informed." She narrowed her eyes slightly and considered adding, So you could apply the proper punishment. But she supposed that went without saying.

 

A little flicker of amusement actually showed on the colonel's face at that. "This room isn't under surveillance, Lieutenant, so do feel free to speak bluntly. Shall I? You contacted me in order to advance yourself and take down the commander."

 

With an effort, the Cait kept a smirk from springing to her muzzle, but her tail became a bit more animated.

 

Caine's lips twitched, and for a moment she said nothing but met Harper's gaze without looking away. "I assure you I would not have taken up your time if I did not feel I had a very good reason," she said equivocally after a short pause.

 

"I respect that," Harper replied calmly. "Are you gunning for the commander's job?" There was no threat in the question; she asked it as though inquiring about whether any new holo-training programs had come in.

 

Feline ears flipped forward and back in curiosity as the other two females bandied about in conversation.

 

Caine's bearing eased slightly at the Colonel's conversational tone. "We all want the rank until we have it, at which point we want the next one. You know that," she replied coolly. "But that was not why that message was sent." Not...entirely, at least.

 

"Most of us," she agreed. "Why, in your view, was it sent?"

 

".... Because Mister Caine can't accept the fact that my operating methods differ from hers ...and that my family comes from mercenary stock." JoNs's purred tone rang out confidently within the smaller confines of the office area.

 

Caine's cold expression iced over as JoNs broke into the conversation, and she spoke over her. "Because...as I believe I made clear, Colonel, Commander JoNs's behavior was that of someone working against our interests and the interests of the Empire. And it is my job to...deter...such behavior."

 

The felinoid senior officer growled. "I detached myself from my observational status with your patrol Mister Caine in order to visually get a bead on a possible business contact in the nearby market area. What I found were local reprobate miners that were planning an attack on your unit, and that attack was soundly deflected by myself and your squad."

 

Harper leaned back against her desk and let the pair go at it, her expression somewhere between amusement and boredom.

 

"And if, for instance, the miners had been a block to the east, Commander? Then my men would have been under attack and I would have had to waste valuable time determining where the cat had gone off to play. You were lucky, perhaps, Commander," Caine growled, her tone indicating that she had severe doubts that the rank was at all deserved, "but you could have just as easily destroyed the operation."

 

"The Cat can very much take care of herself. You just can't get it through your thick Vulcan skull that not all methods need to be by the book. And in fact, sometimes following that so called book to the letter can get you just as dead!"

 

Something that might have been a cough, or a laugh -- except that was clearly impossible, wasn't it? -- emanated from the watching colonel. It was just as quickly silenced, and the blank mask dropped back into place.

 

The golden furred Cait stopped in mid tirade at the ... noise? Her attention flew to the Colonel, with one ear back in a classic "what was that?" gesture.

 

"Next time I should have Decatur shoot you and call it an accident," Caine muttered. "If I thought there was any method to your actions except a certain blind and occasionally lucky foolishness, we would not be having this conversation." She angled her head around on Harper. "Colonel, was there a purpose to us being called here?"

 

Kansas hissed, her attention fixating again on Caine. "Don't bad mouth Lady Luck. Ever. She's just as powerful a force as a phaser on full kill mode."

 

Caine didn't even dignify that bit of naivete with a response.

 

"I wanted to see whether this little incident actually merited my attention, or whether it was simply a turf war blown out of proportion," Harper replied easily, ignoring Kansas to reply to Caine. She straightened up, taking on that inspection posture again. "Now, I've listened to you. You listen to me."

 

Her gaze hardened, and she pinned them both with a glare. "I don't care if you hate each other, love each other, fight with each other, sleep with each other, or both at once. I do care how you present yourselves in public." She stared at each in turn for a long moment. "I expect my senior officers to at least pretend to civility in front of the crew. Kill each other on your own time -- and in private."

 

A tail swish. "She's really not my type."

 

A distinctly unamused glance flicked JoNs's way.

 

The Commander sobered up rather quickly as the Look of Harper found its mark, and any further wiseacre comments were not forthcoming. "Aye Colonel, and understood."

 

Caine didn't look away from Harper but her eyes narrowed again. Was this it? After all of that, was she going to get a slap on the wrist in front of JoNs? The Cait XO was getting nothing further? Resisting the urge to growl, she squeezed one wrist with the other hand behind her back and muttered, "Of course...sir."

 

"Good. As for you, Lieutenant," she said, turning her attention back to Caine, "handle your turf problems yourself, or I'll think seriously about whether you can protect the ship. And you, Commander." Her attention turned sharply on JoNs. "If you can't deal discreetly with your problems, I'll have to find myself a new XO.”

 

Feline ears laid flat in both embarrassment and anger at the reprimand from the Colonel, but Kansas maintained her temper. “Yes sir.” She spared a quick glance over at her now arch nemesis, Lieutenant Caine.

 

Caine caught the glance and returned it with an icy grey gaze. You want me to handle it, Colonel? It will be handled. And perhaps you will regret giving me such carte blanche, since clearly the cat is more your pet than I anticipated. "Yes...sir..." she responded slowly.

 

"The next time I have to play referee for your little power games, I'll be making certain you both hurt more than the headache you give me." She stalked around her desk and dropped into her chair with finality, touching the computer screen to wake it.

 

"Now get out."