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RAdm S.Coyote

Joyride

Topeka Sector/Tomcat 16 In Flight

04:00 Hours (4:00 AM)

 

A long day had gone into an even longer night; Captain Calestorm had managed to extricate herself from the clandestine meeting though the ramifications weighed heavily on her. The unmarked naval ship, the remote location of the meeting…it didn’t sit well with her. She had gotten sucked into a situation that would put both she and her crew straight into some questionable Intelligence work, the problematic situation on Neural aside.

 

Cale was currently heading back to the New Topeka orbital docks from the middle of Bug Frag Nowhere, making good time in the Tomcat starfighter that she and her roughneck escort had absconded with. The former combat pilot had an advanced tracking program running, tracing her return route as best she could. The flight out to the unmarked vessel would be difficult to recreate and she was sure the vessel would be long gone, though the return flight data would have to count for something. Every available piece of EC equipment was processing, recording the return flight.

 

She’d been explicitly instructed not to contact Admiral Coyote regarding the late night meeting and the details of the assignment. Of course, Crash Calestorm always did what she was told; she’d contacted her commanding officer as soon as she figured she was far enough away from the meeting point and the Saladin-class vessel, Hell yes.

 

The captain had initiated a priority communication to the New Topeka colony, using the emergency access that Admiral Coyote had given her to a private command level wireless account. As expected, the admiral had been asleep and rather groggy when she answered the two way audio-visual communication. When Calestorm got to the part about landing on an unmarked Saladin class ship, Coyote was fully awake.

 

“Where are you Crash? Do you have an ETA?”

 

“It’s about three hours out, three back, more or less. These Tomcats really haul, so I’m zipping along. Working my way through the outer perimeter of the Topeka sector now; estimatin’ I have about an hour and a half flight time before I’m back at New Topeka. That unmarked Saladin was parked pretty damn far out Admiral.”

 

“You okay with fuel?” Her tone was tinged with concern. “I can authorize an emergency fuel shuttle to meet you.”

 

“Not necessary Sir; The Ultra Secret Society seemed familiar enough with the Tomcat to leave me the correct amount of fuel for a return trip.”

 

“Well, that’s interesting…the fighter specifications have been released to Starfleet line command and upper level command officers, but the ‘Creek is the only ship currently carrying the new fighters. The full specs shouldn’t be common knowledge…at least not yet.”

 

“Isn’t it though? I had the same thought.”

 

Calestorm went a little too heavy on the thrust ratio; Coyote could tell even over the two-way visual that the Tomcat fighter had just jerked to the left in response to her non-to gentle ministrations. The captain, for the most part, could keep her cool under most circumstances. If you really riled her though, such as she was now, her temper was a force.

 

Easy Crash; you’re getting your Irish up. And watch that lead foot of yours.”

 

“Shauna, you know how ah feel about this cloak and dagger shi-et. We nevah pulled anything like this during our time with Intelligence. Hell, I know you recall that one mission where we overstepped our bounds? Mendez damn near skinned us alive.”

 

“If that Dixieland accent of yours gets any thicker, we’ll all need a specialized translator upgrade just to understand you. Calm down, breath, and take me through the high points of this Devils Hour meeting."

 

Calestorm winced. “Watch yer wording there Admiral, ‘cause the Devil is sure out tonight, dancin’ and wavin’ his pitchfork.”

 

Over the next few minutes, the captain relayed the details as best she could, from point to point and discussion to discussion, outline the information and ‘orders’ that the Intelligence personnel had given her.

 

At the initial mention of Neural, Coyotes eyebrows rose to her hairline. “Well, that’s interesting. An update report was issued just last week to all the officers of rear admiral rank and above regarding Neural.”

 

Cale had paused in her explanation to allow the admiral to talk. “So the observation post on Neural -- and the eventual drop off of Lester and her team -- was kept under the radar? And now all of a sudden, I’m tapped to go in and retrieve her and her team?”

 

The admiral answered the question with a question. “What were your impressions of the participants at the meeting? The mannerisms? Commissioned, enlisted?”

 

“Definitely commissioned. The initial conversation regarding the civilian observation team was your standard briefing, and the one I’m calling Steel Hair originally proposed it as a rescue operation. But then the tone of the discussion took a darker turn and it was suggested that the civilian team might have gone rogue, compromising the situation on Neural. It was hinted that I’d have full authority to remove Lester and her people – permanently.”

 

Coyote snorted derisively, her disdain coming through clear over the comm line. “You believe that?”

 

Crash’s answering snort was the same, her distaste evident in her tone. “Which part? Even if Dr. Lester and her team are responsible, I sure as hell ain’t executing ‘em. They’ll be brought back home for trial.”

 

“Personality profiles?”

 

“I didn’t like Steel Hair, at all: got major dark vibes off of him. The other male, a dark skinned Human, was quiet, and I didn’t really get any vibes from him. Stone was your typical muscle. The female was a lil’ furball.”

 

The admiral quirked an eyebrow. “Define ‘Lil’ Furball’.”

 

“She was Caitian, gave me some attitude. I know we always joke how all the cats look alike, but this ‘Jones ‘ or whoever she is, has more then a passing resemblance to my Ensign Honor-Scar. I’ll look into it once I get back on board the ship, maybe at least get some information on the Cait.”

 

Calestorm paused for a moment, and Shauna could see that she flipped a few switches in sequence along one of the cockpit control panels. “What are you planning on your end Admiral?”

 

“I’ve worked with some pretty ruthless undercover operatives before, but I think we both agree there’s more to this situation. I’ll check in with some contacts I have within Starfleet Intelligence – I know they’ll be straight with me, and I’m sure I can find us some solid answers. It’s also possible that your new friends aren’t representatives with Intel.”

 

“Shauna, if we’re dealing with a rogue faction, I don’t really care to think what that sort of influence can do within Starfleet, not now, with our numbers still low and such. Bad enough we have the Orion Cartel nipping at our necks along the border grids, let alone the ongoing issues with the Klingons and the Romulan border concerns.”

 

“Agreed. Let me do some checking, I’ll call in a few favors and see what information I can come up with.”

 

“You want me to proceed with the assignment?”

 

“Affirmative. Go to Neural, get a firsthand look at the situation. I trust your judgment, do what needs to be done.”

 

“What about Admiral Barnett? I’d rather not tangle with him or an Inquiry Board. He’s never really forgiven me for buzzing San Francisco flight control.” A small smile quirked her lips at the memory.

 

“You have full authorization Crash, deploy to Neural on my authority. I’ll contact the Admiral and give him a sit rep. A report’s already been released regarding the possible cultural contamination and Lester and her team dropping off the grid – an investigative team was due to be assigned anyway, might as well be the Border Patrol.”

 

“Good enough. I’ll contact you again in a few hours Admiral.”

 

“Safe journey Captain. Coyote out.”

Edited by RAdm S.Coyote

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