Still Alive

[Crash Calestorm 0]

This log takes place during our current one week TBS...

 

Earth Recall

USS James Walking Bear

VIP Guest Quarters

 

The USS James Walking Bear, as a first response vessel of the Border Patrol Division, was designated for colonial establishment and medical operations. Captain Tracey and his crew had been present for the investigative mission at Neural, and they had been collectively recalled to Earth along with sister ships USS Comanche Creekand the SS Hard Six, and Special Operations vessel the USS Washington Crossing.

 

The recall wasn’t so much a show of Starfleet force but rather a show of Starfleet solidarity in uncertain times. For now, the Walking Bear maintained a standard patrol pattern within Earth space.

 

The solidarity effort had had a marginal impact; the Federation public was understandably concerned regarding recent events within the Starfleet, and the possible threat of encroachment and involvement in internal affairs by the pirate clans of the Orion Cartel had everyone on edge. The Federation press officials, in their effort to present the full and unmitigated story, were as blood hounds on the scent of an injured fox.

 

With the ongoing debriefing meetings regarding the botched first contact situation on Neural and the ongoing problems within the Starfleet Intelligence division, Rear Admiral Shauna Coyote had co-opted one of the VIP guest quarters on the James Walking Bear as a temporary office area. She had wanted to quote, ‘get away from the craziness that was currently Starfleet Command’ unquote.

 

Cale had to agree with Shauna though, that these last few days had been unbelievable. Command was almost doing a complete internal restructuring in response to the rogues who had breached the Intelligence Division. Arrests had been made, a couple within the captaincy ranks and beyond, yet there was no way to be absolutely sure that the corruption had been stopped in its tracks.

 

Add all this scrambling to meeting after meeting after debriefing, and Captain Calestorm was just about ready to go into hiding along with her commanding officer.

 

Cale paused outside the designated quarters and chimed for entrance; she wore her usual command gold tunic and held a business portfolio under one arm. She’d been summoned in order to have a one on one meeting with the Admiral regarding the ‘Creeks next mission.

 

She had to admit that regarding this new assignment, Coyote had been a little…vague? That was unlike her.

 

The apartment-sized quarters looked as if a twister had torn through. Half a dozen data slates lay across the desk, report flimsies and star charts were set on the living room coffee table, and the smell of percolating coffee drifted out from the small service kitchen.

 

The captain took in the scene of ordered chaos and then commented. “Damn, your quarters look like my Ready Room. Nothing like the aftermath of dissension within the Starfleet ranks to create more paperwork.”

 

Falling easily into protocol, she adopted a parade rest stance and then spoke formally.”Captain Calestorm reporting as ordered Sir.”

 

Shauna indicated that Cale take one of the two office chairs set facing her desk. “Welcome Captain and have a seat. I just got off the wireless with Colonel Craig Tigard of SOCCENT*. He and I were discussing a report submitted by Commander K. Vacer JoNs. I understand you and she had words during the Neural mission?”*

 

Crash lowered herself stiffly into the offered chair; she’d overdone a kick boxing workout in the ships gym and was paying for it now. “Commander Furball rat me out?”

 

“No. Commander JoNs,” the admiral emphasized the felinoid officer’s last name, “did not rat you out. Though I’m curious as to what happened?”

 

“JoNs can be cocky is all; I’m in trouble?”

 

“Not exactly. I know you very well, and Craig knows JoNs very well. So we decided to leave it at that.”

 

Coyote paused to gaze at a report on a digital slate. “I’m more interested in your personal and professional impressions of the Commander. I checked your field reports, but I want your straight verbal assessment.”

 

“JoNs is a good officer, knows her job, does it well. She was an asset during the Neural assignment, and I do intend to recommend her for citation. Her field reports are highly detailed. I feel comfortable having her at my back if the Commander and I were to ever work together again.”

 

“Negatives?”

 

“A little young – in my opinion – to be in charge of a specialized commando unit, but then again, they all look young to me these days.”

 

“Amen Captain.”

 

Crash continued with her assessment of the Caitian officer. “She has that Cat superiority complex thing going on, so I’d like to request permission to beat it out of her?” Her tone came out hopeful.

 

“Request denied.” Coyote sighed. “You always were more of a dog person.”

 

“Damn straight Admiral.”

 

“Regardless of personal clashes, I like to hear that you’ll have no issues working with her again because effective immediately and for the duration of the deployment assignment, you are her commanding officer.”

 

“Whu--Huh?”

 

“Oh, wow. Now there’s a Captain-ly response.” Shauna’s tone was teasing, and her lips quirked in a smile.

 

“You mind explainin’ that statement Admiral? I know JoNs didn’t transfer to the Border Patrol as she pretty much thinks we’re all a bunch of gun slinging frontier marshals.”

 

“Aye, this is true that she did not enlist. But we -- and by we I’m including the Border Patrol and Special Operations -- have been given the green light to breach the Outlands territories in pursuit of the Black Kris; the divisions are forming a joint task force specifically for the mission.”

 

Surprised at the news, Cale’s eyebrows went for her hairline. “Complete authority to pursue? As in full clearance to take on one of the biggest factions of the Orion Cartel?”

 

Coyote nodded in confirmation. “Complete authority. The orders are direct from Admiral Komack himself.”

 

“Beggin’ your pardon Shauna, but you know there’s no way I can go warping into the Outlands with the 'Creek? We would attract a certain amount of…attention.”

 

“You and your command crew and senior officers will be temporarily deployed on the Washington Crossing while I take over duration command of the Comanche Creek.”

 

Now the captain was really getting into this; her curiosity was definitely getting the better of her. “SPECOPS is lettin’ us take their state of the art commando ship on a hunting trip? Interesting.”

 

“Indeed they are. As a patrol and recon vessel, the Washington Crossing’s not that much different from the original civilian design. The Engineering Corps will be making minor interior and exterior changes within the next three weeks, converting various systems, shuttles and hard points to mercenary configuration. That’ll be your cover story for the mission duration: professional mercenary crew, looking for work, interested in the bounty price on Litasha.”

 

Calestorm was silent for a few moments, making mission notations on a data slate with a light pen. Then she spoke again, glancing at the Admiral. “And just to confirm, I have full operational authority?”

 

“Yes. Commander JoNs has already agreed to respect your command. I trust you’ll respect her?”

 

“Skipper, c’mon now,” Crash used Coyote’s call sign from their service time as fighter jocks, “you know I ain’t like that.”

 

“I know you’re not…I just couldn’t help saying it. There’s a lot riding on this deployment Crash. The Orion Cartel keeps getting bolder, with the Black Kris right at the forefront. We need a stop gap if not a solution. You and your team will be the arrow tip.”

 

“I promise you that JoNs will not end up decorating my office as a rug. You have my word.”

 

“Good. Now let’s get into the particulars of this assignment Crash. I’d like your opinion on a couple things…”

 

****

For the next several hours, the two Border Patrol officers discussed deployment, strategy, and general assignment details. Both were generally satisfied with the mission parameters, and the time had come for Captain Calestorm to take her leave in order to tend to other matters.

 

She stood from her seated position and stretched, unfolding her lanky frame. “You know this is some real covert ops stuff here Admiral?”

 

Shauna offered a wink. “I’m well aware of that Captain, but it is in our job description.”

 

“Remind me to read the fine print in the contract next time.” Cale smiled. “If there’s nothing else, with your permission Admiral? I have some mission prep work to look into. I’ll touch base with you again prior to shipping out.”

 

“Dismissed Captain, thank you for coming by.”

 

With a nod, she gathered up her digital slate and report copies into her portfolio. Cale had just made it to the entryway, and then spit out an exasperated, “Ah sh*t.” The line captain had been fighting her conscience for days. She had to tell Shauna, that’s all there was to it.

 

At the mild outburst, the Earth Native Americas woman looked up from the umpteenth report that she had read that day, her expression concerned and her keen blue eyes curious as her gaze set on Calestorm. “Crash? Is everything okay?”

 

Crash ran a hand through her silvering blond hair and walked back to stand in front of the desk; she looked tired, the few age lines on her face prominent. “We’ve known each other too long, and there’s something you should know Shauna – I’m just gonna say it. I gave flintlock rifles to Tyree and his people.”

 

A dead silence engulfed the office; a muscle in Shauna’s jaw twitched, and the exhale through her nose was audible. What she said was, “So, jump right past the slingshots and bows and go for the metallic fire. You think arming the Hill Folk will help?”

 

“It’s too soon to tell, but they sure were gettin’ systematically shot up. Between the weapons and the defensive tactics that my people and JoNs’s people taught them, they at least have that fighting chance. They’re all alone out there Shauna, with the Villagers takin’ pot shots at them. That didn’t sit too well with me.”

 

“This little bit of information wasn’t included in any of your reports. So you deliberately kept information out of your mission statements.”

 

Crash watched Coyote with a slightly wary expression, but her mind had already been made up to stick by her decision. “No, it wasn’t. And yes I did.”

 

“I should knock you on your ass.”

 

“I’d expect. You’d be within your rights.”

 

The two women stared at one another, Coyote with a stern expression and Calestorm with a ‘if she comes at me I can feint to the left’ expression.

 

The admiral finally shook her head, her expression softening but not by much. She blew out an exasperated breath and responded with, “…but I also trust your instincts. We’ll keep the matter to ourselves for right now. If the issue should come up…I’ll deal with it.”

 

The captain allowed a gentle smile to play at her lips. “You should know that Commander Wesley is aware of what I did, gave me what for. She also informed me that she has some fail safes in place to deflect you should you attempt to follow the paper trail.”

 

Her smirk widened into a genuine grin and she winked at her commanding officer. “Promise me that you’ll at least make the effort to be deflected should you go snoopin’ into my records?”

 

Skipper gave an approving nod. “Wesley’s good. But then we knew that.”

 

Cale’s smile widened. “Scooter is the best Ex Oh in the Fleet. I’m probably still alive because of her at this point.”

 

A pause in the conversation. Complete and total silence. Shauna winged her best poker faced look at Crash in response to that statement.

 

The smile dropped from the Calestorm’s lips. “Admiral? At least deny that a little bit? Skipper, c’mon now….Uh, Sir?”

 

= = = =

*Reference to Calestorm log “Open Muzzle, Insert Paw”

* SOCCENT - (Starfleet) Special Operations Command Central