Cleaning Up the Mess ((Matthews/Caine))

[C.T. Caine 0]

Caine didn't let her phaser down from guard position until she was sure that the last of the terrorist group had been contained. Her men had worked efficiently in tandem with the 'Court's marine teams and the occasional smattering of Jackrabbit personnel, and she was pleased with their success. This was a good thing, because there weren't many things about this situation that she was pleased with.

 

She looked down and to her right at the body of the young man whom she had seen Doctor Trenral take down. He was just a kid, and when he woke up would probably be wondering how the hell he managed to get himself into all this in the first place. They all were, she was sure. This planet was a powder keg, its people restless and frightened, its authorities overzealous and angry. Not the greatest place to want to play peacekeeper. Caine didn't envy Colonel Harper the authority that Calestorm had given her, notwithstanding the fact that Caine would have liked to tie Calestorm in a knot, given the opportunity.

 

She grimaced thoughtfully and gestured for those of her officers within immediate line-of-sight to begin taking the downed civilians into custody. Let's just get this over with.

 

Owen wiped the blood off his face and took in the mess around him. There were some stunned dissidents still lying on the ground, the rest of them had already been rounded up in one corner of the square. Echo squad was guarding them though Owen had a feeling they wouldn't cause trouble anymore. Most of them were still very young and while they had undoubtedly joined the fight eagerly it hadn't taken much to break their morale. Giving out orders on the comm to the rest of the Marine contingent on the planet he slowly made his way over to Caine. "Not half bad."

 

"Not half-bad," Caine echoed in agreement, glancing at the marine captain as he strode up. "Could have been a lot worse..." She caught sight of the blood smeared over Owen's nose and jaw and quirked an eyebrow. "Bit of a scratch?"

 

Buddha frowned at the question. "Stupid guy took a swing at me with a pipe. I ducked but was too slow to avoid his next blow completely. I must be getting old." Actually it irked him that a kid had managed to hit him...in the face no less. "But I see they got you too." He pointed at a tear in Junior's sleeve through which he could see a green smear on her arm.

 

Caine looked down and blinked; in the chaos she hadn't felt the impact of a weapon but now that she noticed it it began to sting like hell. "Huh. So they did..." she muttered with a grimace, pressing a hand to the ripped skin to stem any residual bleeding and looking down again at the teenager sprawled next to her. "They've got...enthusiasm. I'll give them that much."

 

"Yeah," Owen agreed. "But that's about all they have...well...that and the guts to take on three Federation Marine squads and your people. I kinda like that." As much as Owen hated playing babysitter for a bunch of unhappy civilians. Though he had a feeling that Calestroms earlier intervention hadn't helped the situation.

 

"There's a fine line between stupidity and bravery and they're walking it," Caine said with a faint grin. "The question is what to do now. We could keep playing whack-a-mole like this but it won't solve the problem."

 

"How about we call this game whack-a-Calestorm and have the locals participate? That should make people feel better. I know it'd work for me." Buddha grinned. It was a good suggestion as far as he was concerned.

 

Caine smiled. "It would definitely be a stress-buster...but that's not my point. Long-term...I have to wonder what the colonel plans to do." She paused, and her expression grew more concerned. "Right before the action started up, she commed me...there was no time for details but it sounds like the brass may be making...pretty dramatic plans."

 

Owen groaned with dismay. "I don't like the sound of that. Do you think we might still be here for a while? With Calestorm and her gang?"

 

"Couldn't say. I hope not. I doubt they'd tie a Prometheus down like Andromeda to this rock, but it wouldn't be the first time they've done things that surprised me..."

 

"Yeah," Owen was still grumbling. "Like giving Calesttorm a ship. Anyway, I'd rather be kicking some Soltan butt than convincing miners to go back to work." This whole business was starting to get frustrating. Owen didn't mind some action. Otherwise he'd have picked the wrong job. But he couldn't shake the feeling that right now he was actually missing out on the real action. He wanted to bring down the people who were responsible for his nephew's death and they were definitely not on this planet.

 

Caine nodded slowly. "I know. I would too. Frankly I think this whole business has got the upper ranks scared. First Earth gets hammered and then the colonies start going mad...we're treading on shaky ground and I don't just mean the Avaros kind." She looked around at the chaos slowly coming under control around them. "These are brushfires, symptoms...it's all part of the wider battle. But the fact that they have us fighting our own is...worrisome."

 

"That's exactly what's pissing me off, Junior. We should all be out there fighting the real enemy. Instead we've been sent here and there, trying to get rebels and miners back under control. This is not normal. I tell you, I bet my live the Soltans are behind all this." Owen couldn't express just how frustrated he was.

 

Caine looked at him sideways. "If they are, we'll ferret it out, like we did on Avaros. I don't like it any more than you do, though; this whole situation is starting to give me a headache."

 

"Easier said than done," Owen said with a sigh. "I just wonder how many other planets there are. Meanwhile the Soltans are watching us, laughing at how well their plan's working. And when they think the moment's right, they'll strike while we're in the middle of nowhere, babysitting miners or whatever."

 

Caine said nothing. There wasn't really an answer to that, because of course he was right. There was really no way to know where their attention needed to be focused, and personnel was spread so thin anyway that in some cases it was almost a moot point. "Let's get this mess cleaned up," she finally said quietly, casting him a tired look and kneeling next to the body of the teenager sprawled next to them. "If we're lucky, maybe we have new orders by the time we're done."