Pulling Rank
For their first pre-mission training session and brief, Captain Kiramman intended on taking no prisoners.
Before they were briefed, before they went out into the training field, before anyone had even had the chance to greet their captain, she had them lined up in formation for a sudden inspection.
“I will not let our standards drop just because of the missions we’ll be going on,” Caitlyn explained coldly, strolling up and down in front of her squad with her hands behind her back. Her eyes flickered on Vi’s briefly before she continued. “I expect you to all carry yourself to the standards set out by the Army of Piltover and by myself.”
Behind her, various strips of multicoloured masking tape had been stuck to the floor of the empty hangar they were standing in. The rest of its contents had been shoved to the side, bar a single desk with a plain brown file and a stopwatch perched atop it. A steady draught wafted through the building, but no-one dared to shiver at its relentless chill.
It would be Cait’s first mission where she would entirely take charge. No input from Heimerdinger or senior advisers, no prying eyes, no management, just her and her squad. It was up to her to ensure everything was perfect down to a T.
The empty space on the parade square reminded her that a lot more was on the line than just her reputation, too.
Captain Kiramman swooped to start inspecting her first victim. Jayce stood perfectly still, his chin held high and chest puffed out, staring dead ahead as Caitlyn’s eyes scanned over him. “Did you shave this morning, Lieutenant Talis?” she asked lowly.
Jayce stayed silent for a moment before finally admitting, “No, ma’am.”
“I thought as such,” Caitlyn said coldly. “You’ve got stubble. I expect to see it gone by tomorrow.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jayce swallowed and kept his gaze centred as the captain moved on, this time over to Claggor. She eyed him up and down, spending extra long looking at his uniform, before her nimble fingers darted out to pick a piece of lint from his combat shirt. “Lieutenant Vanderson C., you need to introduce your combats to an iron, sharpish.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Claggor grumbled begrudgingly. He blew out an air of relief as the captain moved on.
Marcus was next. He stood as still as the rest of them under Cait’s prying glare. Upon finding no flaws, she simply commented, “Good job, Lieutenant Lancaster. I expect this standard every time.”
Finally, it was Vi’s turn. Caitlyn stepped forward and turned to look down at the pilot. She kept her gaze professional as she looked up and down along Vi’s body, searching for any indiscrepancies or blemishes. “Your wings need resewing, Vanderson V., they’re lifting up at the edge,” Cait explained, gesturing to Vi’s pilot patch stitched into her uniform, before pointing at her boots. “You’ve got a lace undone too.”
Before Vi could acknowledge the captain’s comments, she stepped away from the squad, taking one last look at them before nodding in approval. “Stand at ease,” she commanded harshly.
The team moved in one fluid motion. Their hands shot behind their back as their feet slid shoulder-width apart, each pair of eyes still staring dead ahead.
“Stand easy,” Cait commanded again, lifting the brown file up off the desk as the squad’s hands slid up to the small of their backs. She held the folder up for them all to see, pacing up and down before them as she spoke. “This is your briefing for next week. You will all receive one each; I expect you to know it back to front by the time we’re ready to deploy. It will tell you all exactly what your jobs will be, what we’re facing, and how we’re facing it.”
The captain set the file back on the desk. “Noxus has been using the old mining railway system as a means to transport weapons and other goods in and around their country. Our intel has indicated they’ll be delivering a large shipment of Shimmer sometime next week, and we’re there to make sure it doesn’t reach its destination.”
She took a pause, allowing her squad to soak in the words, before continuing. “Our mission is to plant explosives along a segment of railway track that’s a deadspot for radio communications; one explosion will bring the train to a halt, and the other will destroy its payload. The train system the Noxians are using emits a radio broadcast every 90 seconds back to their HQ to indicate that transport is going as expected, which means we’ll have ninety seconds from the moment we stop the train to blowing up its stock.”
“The trains have been modified with heavy artillery and defensive measures, which means we’ll be riding in with the Infantry Corps’ armoured division.” Claggor’s eyes suddenly lit up at the mention of this. “They’re going to soften up any enemy retaliation for us, so we can work without the threat of being blown up.”
“Claggor, you’re going to convene with the armoured division and make sure they lay down as much cover fire as possible. Jayce and Vi, you’ll be in charge of laying down the charges. Marcus, you’ll be detonating the explosives at the right time.”
“Do any of you have any questions?”
There was a bout of silence, before Marcus timidly raised a hand. “Where will you be during all this, ma’am?” he asked blankly.
Caitlyn offered him a sweet smile. “I’ll be in my vantage point, making sure none of you get your heads blown off by an enemy sniper.”
***
For their first run of mission practice, Vi thought that Caitlyn would ease them in slowly.
She’d never been more wrong about anything in her life.
The moment she sat down at the desk, she flicked the 90 second timer onto the stopwatch and barked at them all to start moving. Vi wasted precious seconds flicking her eyes between Jayce and Marcus confusedly, before finally springing into action and picking up the dummy charges that had been laid out for them.
In the heat of the kerfuffle, Vi and Jayce accidentally ran into each other trying to get to either side of the imaginary train tracks, sending both of their fake charges tumbling to the ground with a loud thud.
“Congratulations, Vanderson.” Caitlyn’s cold, sarcastic tone cut through and chilled the room more than any draught ever could. “You just blew up over half our squad. Run it again.”
A flick of anger nestled behind Vi’s eyes, but she extinguished it quickly, trotting back to their starting point in defeat. Claggor stood behind Caitlyn with his arms crossed, watching with amusement with a shit-eating smirk spread across his lips.
Asshole, Vi mouthed to him when their captain wasn’t looking. He wagged his finger at her in a mock scold.
The three officers reset, sprinting from their spots as soon as Caitlyn gave the word. Miraculously, Jayce and Vi avoided bumping into each other. They placed the charges down with a desperate scrabble, running the fuse back to Marcus’s detonator before stepping back and waiting for the trigger.
Marcus pushed the handle down. The charge on the left lit up red, and a few seconds later, the one on the right joined in too.
They’d been placed in the wrong order.
“That would be brilliant, if the train was coming from the right, not the left,” Cait scolded the team, eyebrows drawn together as she glared at them all. “Go again.”
So they went again.
And again, and again, and again.
Each tiny mistake warranted a chilled remark from the captain, and a call to reset and give it another go.
Jayce dropped his charges.
Vi didn’t bring the fuse back in time.
Marcus pushed down so hard on the detonator box its handle broke, which just pissed Caitlyn off even more.
After what felt like their hundredth run, the trio finally got it right, whooping with joy as the charges went off exactly as intended and outlined in the mission brief.
Vi’s eyes flicked to Caitlyn’s and searched for any warmth, any acceptance, any acknowledgement of the hard work she and the team were putting in.
There was nothing of the like there.
“We aren’t going until you get it right, we’re going until you stop getting it wrong,” she droned. “Go again.”
They obeyed silently. And kept going until finally, they kept getting it right, over and over and over again.
Vi’s worn muscles screamed for respite and felt relief wash over her in a tidal wave when Caitlyn called them all in. Jayce, Vi and Marcus waddled into formation, each heaving to catch their breath, whilst Claggor strolled over casually and stood up straight.
Cait marched up in front of her squad, poised as sharp as ever, her eyes settling on each of them individually before she spoke. “Well done, all of you. I expect this performance on the day; you know the outcome if anything falters.”
“Yes, ma’am,” they grunted in unison.
Vi couldn’t stop staring. She was soaking in the new, professional Caitlyn in her entirety. How she spoke, the way her eyes fluttered up and down each of them like they were pieces of meat, the cold, ruthless way she’d marched over, her commandeering tone and chants.
Shit, was Vi into this?
“You’re dismissed.” Cait’s voice cut through Vi’s confusion.
She was into this.
The squad fell out of formation, and Jayce and Claggor found each other, muttering indistinctly amongst themselves. Vi immediately rushed over to help Caitlyn clear up the equipment, nearly tripping over her own boots in the process. She bent down and started peeling up the masking tape while Caitlyn began bundling it into a sticky mess.
“Was I too harsh?” the captain asked quietly after ensuring they were out of earshot.
“No,” Vi replied a little too quickly. She paused for a beat before adding, “Nope. Not at all.”
“Okay.” Caitlyn flashed a smile down at her as she finished pulling up the last bit of tape.
Suddenly, Marcus’s voice hollered from across the hangar. “Captain?”
Caitlyn’s head whipped around. “Yes, Marcus?”
Back to first-name basis, Vi thought to herself.
Marcus wrung his hands timidly as he spoke. “We were all thinking of going for a drink in the mess, care to join us?”
For a moment, Caitlyn glanced down at Vi, expression unreadable. She looked up at Marcus. “That would be nice. We’ll join you shortly, Marcus. Thank you.”
Marcus grinned, nodding enthusiastically before draping his arms over Claggor and Jayce’s shoulders and leaving the hangar.
***
The officers’ mess was bustling with life when the squad entered.
Crowds of uniform-clad men and women lined the bar, the sound of their hearty laugher carrying through the air as they ordered drinks and sipped at glasses. Other officers gathered around the various tables dotted across the mess, chuckling amongst themselves, jostling and nudging each other playfully. Soft music ebbed from the old jukebox nestled into the corner.
Vi had never seen the place so busy, so… upbeat. For an army at war, they all seemed so oddly placid.
Jayce was the first to spot an empty table. He swooped in immediately, spreading his body across three chairs with a cheesy grin, before Claggor trundled over and shoved him out of the way with a laugh. The rest took their seats, all except Caitlyn.
She cleared her throat, looking down at her squad. “First round’s on me,” she said shyly. “You all worked really hard today, it’s the least I can do.”
As Caitlyn left to put her order in at the bar, Jayce turned to Claggor with a smug smile and snarked, “Yeah, you worked real hard today, big man.”
“Just wait ‘til we’re in the field, Pretty Boy,” Claggor retorted. “Next round will be on you. And I’m ordering doubles.”
The table chuckled together, and Vi relaxed into their company, taking the time to acknowledge all of them together.
They were a real ragtag crew. Apart from being in the army together, and the obvious family connections, there wasn’t much common ground between them all. In fact, if they’d met under any other circumstance, Vi probably wouldn’t even look at either of them twice.
But the dynamic worked. The way Jayce had performed at the Black Rose, how they all came together in their training just moments before, it was clear they were a team built to last.
Caitlyn chose well. She might have said it was Vi mainly choosing, but the pilot was just there to direct her; it was Cait’s final choice that brought them all here.
“So, what are the armoured division like, Clagg?” Jayce asked with curiosity. He leant an elbow onto the sticky table in front of him.
“Tankers?” Claggor blew air through his lips. “Like if you put the brain of a goldfish into the body of a bear. Sometimes I felt like I wasn’t going to Heaven by just listening to some of their conversations. But,” he sighed, tilting his head, “they do their job. And they do it damn good.”
At Claggor’s closing comment, Cait returned with a tray of drinks, distributing bottles of beers to the boys before placing one in front of Vi. Vi nodded a thanks as she took her seat, sipping slowly from her own glass of wine.
“You spend much time with them?” Vi asked, taking a chug of beer before setting the bottle down.
Claggor nodded. “More than I thought I would. Saved our asses a lot out on the front. Saved mine, too.”
Vi swallowed another mouthful of beer, trying to hide the shock from her face. This was the most her brother had spoken about his service since that fateful day back at Vander’s house.
“Fancy a game of pool, Vi?”
“Huh?” Vi’s head shot up and she met Caitlyn’s eyes. A playful smirk was plastered across her face.
“I said, do you fancy a game of pool?”
Vi stared at her a bit longer. She ran her tongue along her top teeth, before smiling back. “Only if you’re paying, captain.”
“Deal.” Cait took a swig of her wine before standing up and tucking her chair in. She swanned over to the empty pool table, pretending not to notice Jayce’s knowing gaze.
Vi followed suit and picked up the cues. She handed one to Caitlyn before taking the chalk and rubbing it on the wooden tip. “You any good?” she teased.
“Guess you’ll have to find out,” Cait retorted slyly as she placed the red and yellow balls into the triangle holder. She picked up the white and placed it up the other end before asking, “Are you breaking or am I?”
Vi waved a hand towards the green velvet. “Ladies first.”
“Such a gentleman,” Cait cooed. She leant over the table, drew her cue back, and struck the white ball dead on the centre.
There was a satisfying crack of the balls impacting each other, followed by yellows and reds spilling out across the table. The first ball to be potted, a red, slid into the middle hole perfectly, and Caitlyn smiled to herself.
She circled the table and lined up her next shot, sending a second red into the corner pocket. Vi cursed under her breath as her captain nailed three more reds, before striking the white against the wall.
Vi made a mental note to never play pool against Caitlyn again. Or any sniper, for that matter.
Bending down to start her turn, Vi drew back and aimed for the white. She managed to hit her target, but it went nowhere, just about grazing the side of a yellow ball before halting in the centre of the table.
“You’re shooting wrong,” Cait said in a sultry tone. She leant over to take her shot.
“Please, like you’ve never missed a shot once before,” Vi scoffed.
“That’s the thing, Violet,” she purred. Once her target was lined up, she glanced up at Vi, still keeping her eyes locked on the other officer’s as she drew back her cue and struck. For a moment, she looked exactly like when they were on their stakeout mission in Zaun.
A red ball slid into the back left pocket perfectly.
“I never miss.”
Vi hissed, a trail of air slowly escaping her lips. Cait only had another red and the 8-ball to go and she’d have won.
And Vi hadn’t pocketed a damn thing.
In an act of pity, Caitlyn missed her next shot purposefully, allowing Vi some leeway to catch up. She tilted down toward the table and placed the cue stick in the bridge between her thumb and index finger.
Before she could draw her stick back, a hand was twisting around hers against the wooden hilt, while another snaked to her waist.
“Lean into the shot more. And strike harder.” Cait’s breath was hot and heavy against the skin of Vi’s ear as she hummed the words.
The other officer’s brain short-circuited instantly. She found herself suddenly picturing her captain bent over a table in a very different context.
Miraculously, she managed to get one of her yellow balls in, and the one after that. Her victory was short-lived when Caitlyn took her next and final turn, expertly striking her final red and the 8-ball into separate pockets.
“Good game, lieutenant,” Cait chirped playfully as she set her cue stick down and began spinning the remaining balls into the pockets.
Vi wasn’t listening. She was too focused on Caitlyn’s hands, the way her nimble, delicate fingers curved around the edges of the circular objects so perfectly.
As they trudged back to the table, Vi did everything she could to ignore the burning heat pooling in the pit of her stomach.
The boys’ laughter quickly simmered down as the girls returned, hushing themselves as Cait and Vi slid back into their seats. They both frowned as they noticed the numerous empty shot glasses littered across the surface of the table.
“Partying without us?” Vi mocked, gesturing to the new additions.
Jayce broke out into a smug smile. He licked his lips before leaning in. “So, how long have you two been sleeping together?”
Vi’s ears flushed red and Caitlyn’s cheeks tinged the same colour as her wine. The boys howled with laughter, slapping their palms on the table. The force made each small shot glass jump with excitement.
Caitlyn looked at Vi. Vi looked at Caitlyn. Ocean met storm.
Team meetings were about to get a whole lot more complicated.