The Stiletto - Part 2

[Kansas 0]

Note: the following is an off plot joint log set in the Mirror Universe of the ISS Agincourt, written by Lt. C.T. 'Junior' Caine and Cmdr. Kansas 'Will' JoNs. It follows the events established in the following previous logs: Mission Lead, (Dis) Satisfaction, Wheeling and Dealing, Adminiztrative Skillz, and The Stiletto – Part 1.

 

The Stiletto - Part 2

 

Caine's entire cargo bay abruptly squealed with alarms and her sensitive Vulcan hearing rebelled at the assault, setting her ears ringing. "Amojan y'tek fvadt therak p'tak son of a jacktah!" she swore aloud over the noise, realizing that any particular idea of stealth was pretty much nil at this point. "All teams -- move, NOW. Insertion points are clear; stick to the basic plan and we're good," she snapped, switching to command mode at once. "Apparently someone knows we're here; weapons free. Go!"

 

"Did that damn cat just--?"

 

"Can it, Jimmbo -- we'll talk later. Take alpha team and move out!"

 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Farragut give her a questioning look but she ignored him, waiting to see him gesture to the team that had beamed in with her; as soon as she was sure he had their attention, she bolted for the door, checking the corridor and then referring to her mental map of the ship (as best they had it from their intelligence).

 

JoNs had heard the ‘damn cat’ reference filter across the open team communication lines. Caine shooting off her mouth was one thing, but the Cait really didn’t need to hear it from the CSEC’s so called wet behind the ears cronies.

 

She barked a retort back over the shared team wireless. “That’s Ms. Damn Cat to you soldier, and watch your tongue if you want to keep it in your head!”

 

A flick of her paw changed the channel over to her own team channel. “Banshee squad, Will; move out according to the mission brief. Squad Ex Oh takes the lead point guard run. I’ll finish in here and then come up on your sixes. Move out, weapons are clear per the mission lead.”

 

Throwing glances over her shoulder towards the entry way door as well as the storage area so as not to be surprised by any unwelcome guests that might drop in, the feline completed the intelligence download and withdrew the green hued USB storage stick; she quickly slipped the little device in a cargo pocket of her black uniform duty trousers.

 

Her internal clock was screaming ‘go go go’ as time was of the essence with this sort of takedown operation, and the assault had been launched about two minutes or so ahead of schedule because of the tripped secondary security alert. Not a huge gap in the timeframe, and the insertion teams were all well trained and such. But, there was always that unknown factor of what might go wrong on any given tactical operation.

 

Kansas swooped out into the corridor, phaser held at the ready. She hadn’t been expecting any resistance this soon, but nor was she overly surprised when she walked smack dab into crossfire from both ends of the corridor. Crossfire! One of the orange colored energy beams nailed her in the upper left arm, frying a swatch of the golden fur from her bare and exposed arm. With a yelp, JoNs backpedaled into the computer storage room.

 

The Cat was trapped.

 

= = = =

 

Caine's boots thudded into the floor of the corridor as she levered herself out of a Jeffries tube, landing in a crouch, phaser up. She could hear the sound of shots nearby; where the hell was JoNs?

 

Team five insertion point, deck five, section 34...35...36... Breaking into a full-out run, she barreled down the corridor.

 

45...46...47-- Oh, hell.

 

She skidded to a stop just in time not to trip over an array of green skinned mercs piled up at the end of a corridor and firing down the hall; a disrupter bolt from a team on the other side of the section sang past her ear and she backpedaled behind the corner, gasping. Forty-eight. Crossfire. Hell and damn, Cat, and of course you're right in the middle of it.

 

For a moment she pondered just turning and leaving her behind. She'd heard the cat give her team XO command; beta team was already in motion. This was hardly necessary. Except when you figured in two things.

 

One, Harper would probably take a bit less than kindly to having her pet cat singed up when this was all over.

 

Two, the cat had a copy of the Imperial traitors in her pocket -- information which Caine, in the mercs' place, would have wiped at the first sign of an incursion, and information which Caine needed. Desperately. That was information she could send back to her own command at Intel. That was information which could do her personally a lot of good. And JoNs now had the only copy.

 

Hell...and...damn.

 

"Caine to JoNs, coming up starboard side of you. Three...two...one...mark!" With a yell intended to distract and, hopefully, intimidate somewhat, she threw herself around the corner, opening a wide barrage of blind fire on the team closest to her, praying that the Caitian at least had good reflexes and would draw some fire off her.

 

Hunched down behind one of the red cargo crates stuffed into the computer access room, Kansas kept her weapon pointed towards the entry way door while she contacted her mission leader over the team wireless.

 

“Junior, Will. I have hard contact. Hostiles at both ends of corridor whiskey mark five. I’m pinned down in the adjacent storage area where I downloaded the newest tactical information. Repeat, I’m pinned down in whiskey target mark five. Transferring uploaded information to home ship wireless encryption…”

 

Placing her phaser back on her utility belt for just a second or two, JoNs quickly manipulated the necessary commands on her data PADD in order to transfer the computer data from the USB attachment to the data slate and then over to the ‘Courts computer system as the final transfer destination. Get the new Intel out first, get yourself out second.

 

"I know where you are!" Caine barked, rolling back behind the corner and counting the seconds before the mercs emerged following her. "And I damn well know where the hostiles are. I've cleared the area to your starboard -- get your ass out here and help me!"

 

Despite the heaviness -- and craziness -- of the situation Kansas found some humor as evidenced by the light tone of her reply over the combat wireless. "Starboard cleared, noted. My ass is incoming your way, team leader. Mind that you shoot the green skins and not the gold fur..."

 

"Don't tempt me," Caine muttered, but JoNs was saved from hearing anything further as the Orions emerged around the corner, firing wildly in Caine's direction. She hit the deck and scooted around them, firing as she went, taking down three of them in one shot. Her body flooded with adrenaline as she rolled, dodging a bolt that buried itself in the wall behind her.

 

The two disparate officers might not have liked one another, but they both fell easily into a working combat relationship. Will zoomed out of her temporary holding area into the corridor as it was awash in phaser and disruptor fire, the red and orange beams crisscrossing the air and scorching the hull as well as body parts. The Caitian double timed it backwards, her hind paw steps surefooted, as she laid down some suppressing fire to match with Caine’s own outgoing fire as it was directed to the other flanking team that had not yet been taken down. Once the felinoid Ex Oh had made it even to where the Vulcan SEC had established her position, she dove sideways to land opposite and across the T shaped corridor from Caine.

 

JoNs pressed her back against the cold bulkhead, panting as she slammed a fresh energy clip into her phaser. “Are we having fun yet, El Tee?”

 

It occurred to the section of the commander’s tactical brain that without the cooperation of the lieutenant, she might not have made it out of the corridor and anteroom with her hide relatively intact. Owing Caine a debt of gratitude was not something she was prepared to dwell on at this one moment, so she pushed the consideration back into the recesses of her mind later consideration.

 

"Like a gods-damned party, Commander," Caine growled as a merc's body thudded to the ground next to her. "Nice of you to finally join in." Squeezing the trigger of her phaser, she gave the last remaining pirate a solid bolt in the chest, then swiveled while pulling a gas grenade from her belt and hurled it down the corridor in the direction of the other group. With a low hiss followed by a dull "boom," the grenade went off, immediately incapacitating the majority of the mercenaries at the far end of the corridor.

 

The feline snorted out a derisive vocalization. “Well, I had a previous engagement with not getting my head shot off while I found some temporary cover. These guys have the numbers, but they’re sloppy with their formations.”

 

“The only reason you’re still alive, no doubt,” Caine answered acidly.

 

JoNs ignored the derisive comment and leaned out to pop off a secondary flash bang grenade up the corridor, and the blurred flash of her red sleeveless command tunic was the last thing the remaining mercs saw before the grenade followed up Caines destruction nicely.

 

The Orion mercenaries fell, and none of them got up. Any that ventured to move their head, were easily picked off by either Will or Junior with well placed phaser shots from their cover spots to either side of the corridor junction.

 

 

The mobile assault teams had begun to check in as well, with updates on their progress as they methodically took the Orion mercenary vessel deck by deck. Eventually, most of the squads converged on the command deck from different access points; as the situation stood from a tactical standpoint, Caine and JoNs were the only two Imperial Fleet officers still left on this lower access level.

 

An abrupt silence fell as the noise of JoNs' grenade faded, and Caine let her head drop down where she lay on the deck as she took a few precious seconds to catch her breath. Then she was on her feet, jogging down the corridor, not waiting for JoNs to catch up. "Caine to Farragut," she said roughly. "Beta team insertion point is secure. Secure the command center; we're on your tail from Deck 5."

 

"Acknowledged; command center incursion in progress."

 

Caine gave a nod he couldn't see, and then tapped the line closed; glancing back at JoNs moving to catch up with her, she scowled irritably. "I won't bother telling you how drastically you mucked this up, Commander; I don't care to waste my breath."

 

The hot retort of “**** you Junior” died in the commanders throat; it wouldn’t do for her to resort to crude language in front of a subordinate. JoNs continued to follow in Caine’s wake and stepped over the green skinned bodies strewn about the corridor, and even though she knew that the Vulcan couldn’t see it, she threw a narrow look towards the taller females back.

 

“You’re the Intel expert, and this was your mission operation, Lieutenant; it would have helped if the schematics included that computer access point that I found and we didn’t have to rework the operation around it. I’d hope you’d be happy regarding the information payout though.”

 

Caine grunted. She was happy about the information, and JoNs was right -- the lack of that room in their Intel had been a drastic error. She wasn't about to admit it, however, and she turned and jogged on towards the J-tube that would take them up to the bridge. "I would have preferred it not come at the price of our cover. Did no one ever teach you to properly disable a security system?" she asked, her tone sneering. "Your family clearly missed a valuable lesson in their education.”

 

The Caitian checked their six to make sure no surprises were forthcoming as she spoke to her subordinate mission leader. “I’m Caitian: My family and my education were quite thorough Lieutenant. I did clear the system protocols before I accessed the information,” Kansas snorted with a derisive hiss, “…any first year cadet can be taught that procedure. But as we’ve discussed before, things can happen, especially when a secondary route protection system is in play. If you’ve gone your entire career without encountering a security glitch, well then, you’ve led a charmed professional existence Junior.”

 

Another flurry of team updates prevented Caine from having to answer, and both officers were both silent and watchful as they emerged onto an open deck set just under the command deck; in order to access the far access tube, they would both need to traverse the cargo strewn deck.

 

Moving in a standard two person formation, one taking the lead, the other watching the six, they were about halfway across the surface when a flash of incoming silver from the upper left quadrant caught JoNs's attention.

 

The 'nade was launched from the back end of the upper cargo deck, and it was in the Cat's line of sight, but not Caine’s; if JoNs had been looking the opposite direction, the ordnance might very well have caught them both off guard. That was poor timing on the hostile’s part, not waiting until JoNs's three sixty head swivel was focused in the other direction before kick starting the fun.

 

With no warning, as spoken words would have caused a delay that would be to the detriment of both of the officers, Will just up and tackled Junior with a forceful pounce from behind, pushing the older Vulcan woman down on the cold steel decking with no warning.

 

"What the hell--" Caine's yelped question was cut off as the impact with the deck knocked all the wind from her body. Before she could move or do anything but wheeze, however, the concussion ordnance went off above them with a shock that sent both of them rolling. If she'd been standing, the angle would have quite possibly broken her neck.

 

JoNs had been slammed into a loose cargo crate when the concussive blast had hit. Her bells were rung, but combat training and self preservation kicked in automatically -- she had maintained her grip on her phaser weapon, and now scrambled on instinct to use the crate as some sort of cover until a line of sight could be established to the new hostile. Caine as well rolled to get behind a nearby crate as well, her own phaser still held at the ready.

 

Both of the women had been lucky that they hadn’t been collectively torn to pieces, but luck would only stretch so far if they didn’t deal with this new problem quickly and efficiently.

 

The Orion mercenary quickly moved along an upper catwalk bolted around the perimeter of the cargo deck, moving quickly in order to flank the two female Imperial officers take them out before the vaunted Vulcan and the Caitian reflexes could fully recover from the blast. He tossed another flash bang at the same spot at which the last one had hit, intending to continue his rain of fire incoming from the high ground.

 

The second blast knocked both Junior and Will from their temporary cover spots, kicking them bodily back and further away from one another along the circular blast perimeter. Exposed, the two officers made easy targets for the male mercenary to pick off which was just the sort of situation that he wanted to exploit.

 

Her pointed ears ringing, Lieutenant Caine managed to get off a shot at the green skinned male, but only clipped him across his thigh; he took off running across the catwalk, intending to put some distance between him and the slightly off center Vulcan. That was when JoNs own phaser shot lashed out as he tried to put some distance between himself and the females; the shot caught him on the arm, spinning him around to slam into the support railing that was bolted to the cat walk.

 

Caine, still wheezing in pain from the blow to her torso, took the opportunity to start to her feet and angle around and settle her line of sight; all thought of prisoners was buried for the moment as she followed up with a third phaser shot directly in the man’s face.

 

He toppled forward over the rail without a whisper, landing with a sickening thud on the unyielding decking.

 

Shaking her head to clear it and unsteadily getting to her hind paws, JoNs felt warm blood dribbling from her lower lip onto the fur of her chin; she vaguely remembered her face slamming into the decking as a result of the second blast. Using the sting of the wound to focus herself, she held her phaser at the ready and visually scanned the upper catwalk for any more surprises while barking out a quick order of “Lieutenant. Sound off…”

 

“I’m fine,” Caine rasped curtly, finally getting enough air into her lungs to force the sound. “Where is he?” Casting her eyes about she spotted the man’s body against the floor and nodded satisfaction. “Good.”

 

It was not lost on her that she probably owed JoNs her life as a result of that little skirmish; not an idea that bore a lot of dwelling on. This mission was getting far too damned complicated; if everything had gone according to plan, she’d be on the bridge now and wouldn’t have needed the Commander’s claws in her back pushing her down.

 

“Farragut to Caine.”

 

“Tell me you have good news, Ensign,” Caine said irritably.

 

“Ah…yessir. Command center is about secure. We have senior mercenary commander Jinor in custody…he will require medical attention. Doing a bit of mopup. Did you manage to corral the Cait?”

 

Will snarled from just out of communications range and then spat a wad of blood on the decking.

 

Caine smirked faintly but didn’t answer. “We’re a deck below you. Stand by. With any luck we’ll be finished with this hulk soon enough.” Tapping the line closed again, she moved to walk past the mercenary’s body. Reaching out with her boot toe, she nudged another, not-yet-armed grenade out of his hand, scooped it up, and pocketed it. If she was at all ruffled by this latest brush with death, she didn’t show it, and she did not so much as spare a look at JoNs as she moved on.

 

JoNs waited until the communication had been terminated, and then began to follow Caine out of the secondary cargo deck that would lead to the upper command bridge where the party had ended up. As she stalked past the dead mercenary pooled in blood on the decking, she spared a perfunctory glance at her mission lead and growled out a statement.

 

“You’re welcome. We’re even.”