<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #80BF00">Karra Lee Micheals</span></span></div><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #80BF00">Captain Micheals</span></div><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://i1343.photobucket.com/albums/o793/Galvin_Fugazi/d8d8d07d-bef1-4b12-bb9c-4a8ccbe576b0_zps6c4f5818.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><br/><div style="text-align: justify;">Karra wasn't sure when the last time she had been seriously angry with Tom, but at the moment she was absolutely livid. She was second in command and yet he was taking the jackass who had insulted them earlier in to interrogate the woman. Sure, Karra had noticed the woman's curious gaze, but who gave a shit? She should be in there asking questions, she should be in there getting information from her. <br/><br/>Tom was a bit protective, almost to a fault. Karra was aware of that and she would allow Tom to be protective if he wanted--so long as it didn't undermine her authority in a situation or otherwise take away power from her. Tom had managed to do both in a single swoop. Her fists were clenching and unclenching, unable to keep herself from being agitated with the entire ordeal. It was embarrassing standing outside of the cockpit, useless, while Tom and some university honky spoke to the woman they had captured. <br/><br/>It was absolutely absurd and she was going to give him a piece of her mind as soon as they were alone.</div>