Those Who Live in Glass Houses

[Cassie Granger 0]

Those Who Live In Glass Houses

Cale-Granger Joint Log

Warrant Officer Cassidy Granger had taken the NAV console directly after the meeting. Approaching Neural on the sly was no easy task, but doable. She didn’t like transport; too easily redirected; too much could go wrong. She didn’t like shuttle, either; too easily seen. But hell - if that’s what the captain wants, that’s what she gets.

Word was that PD had already been compromised, but it wasn’t a given, and what had actually happened to the scientists was still pretty much unknown. As far as Cassie was concerned they were at square one and she’d treat it as such. But a covert mission - unsanctioned - and some kind of power play? She shook off the thoughts in favor of gathering data on the planet for a smooth, uneventful creep up their backside.

Captain Calestorm had retired to her ready room, intending to draw up reports pertaining to the ‘Mr. Toads Wild Ride’ adventure that she had experienced. Making a verbal report to her commanding officer was one thing, but word from Admiral Coyote had it that Fleet Command offices at San Fran wanted an actual digital hard copy report directly from Cale.

Hell, that was fine with her; maybe something would actually get done about the rogue element.

And, she had given a final perusal the recent personnel transfer reports for Ensign Shan Shalin and Warrant Officer Cassidy Granger, Helm and Navigation respectively. Both officers appeared promising, and the border patrol could always use good officers.

Crash stretched, letting her attention wander about the office, glancing at the spartan collection of medals, awards, and starfighter models that she displayed on a shelving unit and her desk. Unlike her quarters, which housed her more personal mementos, the displays were of a more business oriented nature.

She rolled her neck, feeling much better after the ministrations of the CMO, but fatigue was starting to overwhelm her again. She needed sleep. The ship was currently heading at a good clip towards the Neural sectors, and they still had about two days travel time before the final destination. She could use some of that time to grab some rack time, and it would do her no good to fall flat on her face.

Speaking of personnel transfers, she had one particular matter to attend to before she grabbed a few hours sleep.

Unfolding her long and lean frame from the desk chair, she walked the few strides to the entry door that accessed the main bridge; half stepping out when the entry whooshed open, she spoke in a matter of fact tone towards the Navigation officer in question.

Cale schooled her expression to one of neutrality, the command poker face. It was usually hard to disconcert a marine, but she was going to damn well try - in good fun of course. “Warrant Officer Granger. Would you mind stepping into my ready room for one moment?”

Granger snapped around and gave a crisp, “Yes, ma’am,” while nodding to a subordinate to take NAV as she passed by.

When the doorway had hissed closed, the captain indicated the guest chair with a gentle sweep of one hand, and perched one hip on the edge of her desk, careful not to invade the officers personal space. “Take a load off Mister Granger.”

Cassie eased into the chair and gave the captain her full attention, keeping her head clear, trying to ignore the legends that rolled around inside. She’s good stock. Good breed. Remember that.

“I understand that the Corps is a big outfit, but I’m curious; you ever encounter an Ashton Marie Killian during your service tenure?”

“Can’t say that I have, Captain,” she said, her tone slipping toward her superior’s casual cadence. “I would’ve remembered that, you being the first Ashton Marie I’ve ever come across.”

Cale smiled. “You would indeed recall this Ashton Marie. My namesake, served on the USS Gettysburg, 56th Battalion Command. She retired from active service a few years back, started teaching at the cadet academy. Probably started instructing about the time you went through.”

“Well, much as I’d like to have been, I’m not academy, ma’am,” said the warrant half-apologetically. “Coming from the 56th, though, she must be one of the best. They’ve built themselves quite a rep. The stuff of legends, you might say.”

“My mistake, should’ve fully familiarize myself with your service jacket before making assumptions.” Calestorm’s gentle smile turned sly. “Though it is my understanding that you’re our new watchdog, correct?”

“Watchdog, ma’am?”

“Special Operations. Marine Intelligence Division. From what I’ve been able to ascertain within the last 24 hours, we’ve had a bit of a dust up going on within Command Fleet Intel at San Francisco. The SPECs and your division have been assisting with the issue for these past months.”

Crash cocked her head to one side, her expression open, the few age lines that she possessed becoming a bit prominent. “Not trying to make you uncomfortable, just want to get a sense of where we stand.”

Cassie’s expression sobered. Meeting the captain’s gaze, she took a moment to scope out the possible concerns, then adopted a more formal tone. “Yes, ma’am. Totally understand that you might have concerns, so I’ll be plain an’ clear about where I stand in relation to you, the ship, and this mission.

“First and foremost, I come directly under your command, Captain. Orders from SPECOPS* made that very clear. My MOS* aboard this ship is navigational officer. I am here to assist you in your mission, whatever it may be. As for my affiliation with the Corps, besides my training and my paycheck? I come under Starfleet Intelligence, Division 6, Special Operations dealing with external threats and intervention. SPECOPS liaison is this officer’s secondary operational designation should you need that type of assistance, especially for the dust up.”

The captain appreciated the honesty from the enlisted officer. The Sharks and Squids* had always had a healthy competition between the two service branches, and when you got into the whole Intel/SPECOPS thing it could get twitchy.

“We certainly encounter external threats in our service with the border patrol, and it would appear we need to start minding recent internal threats as well. Your expertise will be welcome Granger. And just so you know, we’re a little rough and ready around here.” She paused and pointed a finger to the rather un-captainly shiner that she sported. “You don’t mind a little action?” Calestorm’s grin had gone mischievous.

Which Cassie picked up on immediately. If she’s a renegade, hell! We need more renegades like her out here. She allowed herself a semi-grin, but kept her tone sincere. “Captain, I was assigned to ‘Creek because this is where the action is. Don’t mind it at all, so long as it furthers the mission.”

Cale nodded. “The short version is that the First Threat Response program was fast tracked because of that bastard Nero, pardon my French. I’ve served within the BP for most of my adult life in one capacity or another. We’ve always been active on the frontier, the front line against external threats to the Federation, and the FTR program is a specialized endeavor.”

The captain crossed her arms over her chest. “Opinion wise, some people consider officers of the Border Patrol throwbacks to Earth’s Frontier age. With all that said, we do a lot of good out here.”

“If I may, ma’am? What goes on out here does bear a resemblance.” The captain’s expression seemed to call for an explanation, so Cass continued.

“Earth’s frontier age - if I remember my history correctly - was pretty rough and tumble, a mix of city folks looking for greener pastures, explorers...” her head-tick towards the briefing room recalled the scientists on Neural, “... treasure seekers, and a lot of riffraff looking to take advantage of ‘em all. They had ‘lawmen’ to keep the peace. But those rough days defined what the land became and made it stronger. There’s bound to be rocky parts before this space frontier smooths out, ma’am, and if they want to call us throwbacks? Hell, bring it on.”

Crash was silent a moment, studying her new alpha shift navigator. Her eyebrows drew together in a frown, but the expression remained thoughtful. She nodded once, a quick jerk of the chin as if making a decision. “Good to hear.”

Then she fixed Granger with that mischievous smile again, all teeth. “Now, where were you when I needed you?”

“Ma’am?”

The captain allowed a slight expression of distaste to crease her features. “This unsanctioned mission we’re undertaking? I was escorted to the initial briefing by Ensign Karl Stone, formerly of my security department. He was not gentle, and employed some fancy razzle dazzle martial arts that are a bit beyond my purview. Granted, I may have aggravated him a little bit...” Her tone had gone deadpan.

Stone. An alias in the Corps, a favorite of over-the-top Semper fi, Do or Die types used by covert ops to get the attention of unsuspecting ‘fleet captains like Ashton Marie Calestorm. Instead of letting her disgust get the best of her, Cass boxed it up for later and addressed the issue at hand. “Sounds like a blind-side attack, ma’am. If you’re of a mind, it might fall into the category of ‘that type of assistance’ I could provide.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I have a few skills I could pass on to you in case you have to duck another Stone.” She let the double-entendre hang as she watched the captain for a yea or nay. “That would be gym-type skills, ma’am,” she clarified, realizing it could be taken several ways.

Crash gave a gentle chuckle at the little play on words. “Well, thank you for the offer, and I’m inclined to take you up on it Granger.”

“You name the time and place, ma’am. I’ll be there.”

“Well, I need sleep as Mister Stone kept me out way past my bedtime on our date. As we’ll be traveling for a few days to Neural - let’s say tomorrow afternoon, main gym deck?”

“Beginning beta shift, ma’am?”

The captain nodded once in affirmation.

“Fourteen hundred, main gym deck. Yes, ma’am.” Cassie stood, came to attention, then spun on one heel for a sharp exit after the captain’s nod of dismissal.

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*SPECOPS - Special Operations

*MOS - Military Occupational Specialty

Sharks - Marines

Squids - Sailors