Well That's An End!

Posted on Mon May 23rd, 2022 @ 1:17pm by Lieutenant Commander Shaille Levine & Lieutenant Commander Danon Prel

Mission: Recovery
Location: Brig

Prel sat in his cell, mostly being ignored and glared at by the guards. The officer who orchestrated the attack - or attempted attack - was in the next one.

"Don't worry." Prel said. "This woman overstepped herself. She'll be captaining a garbage freighter in a month."

Shaille walked into the brig, walking slowly between the holding cells, her eyes fixated on her destination up ahead. She barely flicked a glance toward the two guards. "Take a break," she ordered coldly.

"But Commander...."

"I gave you both a direct order. Take a break. Fifteen minutes, no less, now get out," Shaille responded, her tone making it quite clear this was not something up for discussion.

Having never seen her quite so tense, the two guards offered a nod and departed quickly, leaving Shaille alone with the two prisoners.

Walking across to Prel's holding cell, she lowered the forcefield and walked into the small area, the forcefield raising again as soon as she had cleared the barrier. She approached him slowly, almost as if she were sizing up her prey. Before he could speak or react, Shaille reached out, her fist landing hard and fast right in his nose. "You arrogant, self righteous, stupid fucking idiot!" her voice rose as she clenched her hands into a fist again. "What the hell were you actually thinking? We were down there! You put our lives at risk because you wanted to try and prove what your pissant little brain thought was a point?!"

She swung again, this time her fist landing on the corner of his mouth. "Fuck you!"

Prel stood back and looked at her, barely restraining himself. "You insubordinate bitch! Who in the hell are you to strike a superior officer? You want to get yourself court martialed? I'll have you and Bartlett on the same garbage ship with one comm to an Admiral." he said, wiping some blood off. "You all really think you just have the answers, don't you?"

"Who the hell are you to call yourself a superior officer?" Shaille shot back angrily. "You might have a higher rank than me, but that doesn't make you superior." Her shoulders were firm, head held high, defiance clear in her eyes. "If I get court martialed for smacking you around like the little bitch you are then I'll damn well own that. It would be a fucking honour to be acknowledged for kicking your ass after you put all our lives in danger." She took another step closer to him.

"You're all so hopelessly naive." Prel said. "The captain dies, cut down like a dog and that woman in his chair was going to do what? Have us just do some sort of folk song and hold hands? We're cut off here now, you know. How long do you think this hug it out act is going to last?"

"No one on this ship wants to hug it out," Shaille shot back. "Especially not where you're concerned. The only thing I want to do is smack you in your smug, self righteous face," she retorted, her fingers flexing before curling into a fist. "Go ahead, give me an excuse to put you on your ass and kick your fucking head in!"

"You won't get it today." Prel replied. "But what are you going to do, cut off from the fleet? Are you going to still try the same old strategy and get another captain killed?"

"Whatever I do, I will do it with honour, integrity and respect to not only my Captain and my crewmates, as well as my uniform. But then again, I suspect honour, integrity and respect aren't exactly attributes that rank highly in your personality," Shaille shot back. "You know what, you're not work it. Enjoy New Zealand. I'm sure you'll come to regret this once someone makes you their bitch." Shaille turned on her heel and started toward the cell doors, pausing to look back just once more. "One word of advice... . don't drop the soap."