"Where's Audraya?"

[Crash Calestorm 0]

8 Penn Center

Philadelphia, PA

Starfleet Security Offices, Northeast Sector

 

Colonel Craig Tigard of Starfleet Special Operations had been in so many different office locations within the past two weeks because of mission prep work and briefings that he was beginning to lose count of what day it was. At this moment, he knew he was within the boundaries of the city of Philadelphia thank you very much, in an emergency meeting between himself, Rear Admiral Shauna Coyote and Captain ‘Crash’ Calestorm of the Starfleet Border Patrol, and Security Officer Liaison Lieutenant Styles.

 

Though, he had to admit that Calestorm had gone through some physical changes in recent days.

 

Her regulation length hair had been cut, and with the blond remnants cut out, the hair was completely silver. The spiked style evoked a tougher look, suitable for a mercenary lifestyle. She’d taken pigmentation shots, temporarily transforming her white skin to a lighter shade of olive. Semi-permanent blue contacts completed the look.

 

For the mission duration to the Outlands, Calestorm would be ‘Marie Lightwind’, a Human of Old Earth Native American descent. A former Starfleet officer turned professional mercenary since the Nero attacks, Lightwind was looking to hire a crew, keep flying, and make money in the Outland districts. A complete security dossier had been created, and should any potential employers – or potential enemies – do an extensive background check on the former officer, all I’s would be dotted and the T’s crossed.

 

Tigard knew that Coyote, the ‘real’ native, had drilled Calestorm extensively in native history as well as a credible ancestral back story, adding one more impenetrable layer of cover to the identity.

 

One thing that couldn’t necessarily be bypassed with a new identity were mannerisms, and right now, Crash was hopping mad. Cale had placed both hands on the desktop and leaned part way over, her back bunched and tense even through the clothing of her uniform jacket.

 

“Lieutenant Styles, are you telling me that we have one of the most advanced tracking grids surrounding and protecting Earth, and you are unable to find the location of one Orion officer?”

 

Her accent was on kill and Tigard’s brow creased; she needed to watch that while undercover. He caught Coyote’s eyes and the admiral gave a slight nod of understanding.

 

Lieutenant Styles sighed, a drawn out sound that only added to the aura of professional prissiness that he exuded. “As I’ve already mentioned Captain, Colonel, Rear Admiral,” his gaze fixated on each of them in turn as he spoke, “the Office of Special Investigations is looking into the matter.”

 

Tigard grunted and crossed his arms over his chest. “Since when does ‘Fleet OSI get involved regularly with missing persons? On your turf no less?”

 

The lieutenant raised an eyebrow, his tone as deadpan as ever. “I don’t believe we’ve established that Commander Wesley is actually missing.”

 

Coyote interjected then. “Lieutenant, she is scheduled to deploy in less then seventy two hours for a priority mission. I don’t suppose the timing of this so called un-disappearance doesn’t seem odd to you?”

 

Cale glanced at her commanding officer to make sure it was permitted to comment and then added, “And ah knew she was scheduled to be in the city for a time, but I haven’t been able to raise contact with her for the past twenty four hours. Scooter Wesley is not the type to just cut and run.”

 

Styles bypassed answering Coyote’s query and instead commented on the captain’s statement directly. “Well, Captain Calestorm, it’s not really my fault that you can’t seem to keep track of your second in command.”

 

The inflection was obvious, and the only emotive words the man had spoken since the conversation had begun.

 

Crash exploded, her temper getting the better of her. She scrambled over the desk, swinging as she went; the liaison managed to duck out of the way. It took the combined effort of Tigard and Coyote – Craig grabbed at the back of her jacket while Shauna went for a flailing arm – to drag her away from the scrambling agent.

 

****

In a nearby control room, watching the situation unfold on several closed circuit viewer monitors, a red haired Human female took a calm sip of tea from her mug and savored the sweet, hot liquid before swallowing.

 

Major Scully, OSI Senior Field Agent, then turned to a technician officer controlling the wireless signal between the office areas and said drolly. “And that’s why I let the junior security agents handle all the post assignment interviews and debriefings.”