Clockwork (Cale Log)

[Crash Calestorm 0]

This log occurs 45 minutes prior to the 07.16.12 Sim...

 

USS Comanche Creek

Unclaimed Space

07:30AM

 

 

Calestorm ambled onto the command bridge, mug in hand, hot caffeinated beverage ready to deploy. Her uniform was fresh and a quick shower had chased away the worst of the mental cobwebs. Around her, the late shift bridge crew worked with the usual clockwork efficiency in their duties.

 

Was she completely awake? Her 'Timex' wasn't completely running at full tilt, but she was getting there. "What've we got Folks?" Her voice came out slightly husky with the rust of sleep.

 

The shift lead promptly answered. "Class M planet. Settled, humanoids, non-humanoids."

 

The silver-white haired officer turned her attention from him towards the enlisted SCI Geek on duty. "Our coordinates match with the numbers the Lieutenant Commander left us?"

 

"Yes, Captain. An exact match, since we cleared the Barrier."

 

"What else ya got?" Calestorm leaned a hip on the console.

 

"Long range sensors detect settlements and cities, Ma'am. Mountain ranges, plains, farmland, forests. Preliminary data shows elements of Medieval and Victorian eras, with evidence of early clockwork and steam technology as well."

 

Crash's brow crinkled in a frown. "Wait, what? Helluva combination." She took a sip from her mug.

 

"Yes Sir. But, it gets, ah, weirder."

 

"Of course it does. Weird is what we do, Crewman."

 

"Due respect, Captain…this is a little beyond the standard weirdness. We've also got evidence of a planetary-wide nuclear winter."

 

The Captain was about to say something, considered the word probably wasn't the most diplomatic comment in polite company, and then continued with a safer word. "Time?"

 

"Computer programs are estimating an exact year; it's at least a few thousand years ago. There's evidence of concrete and glass buildings, and highway infrastructures scattered across the planet. Eroded due to time and elements, but the foundation of the structures are still there."

 

Cale's expression was caught somewhere between grim and sympathetic, and she was glad she'd at least paid attention during the Quasi-Alternate History classes at the Starfleet Academy. "So, we got ourselves a former modern society, and then they quote 'done blowed themselves Six Ways to Hell'?.

 

The female SCI Tech nodded in the affirmative. "It's happened before, Ma'am, on any number of planets, Earth included. This is an extreme case judging by the destruction we're able to still detect and the combined historical eras."

 

"Could a society reassert itself that quickly?" The captain used the term, quickly, loosely.

 

"If there's enough of the population left, Captain? Yes. It's a long shot, but it can happen."

 

"And the patchwork history setting? Is there any particular reason the Medi-Victor historical combo might be stronger than another type?

 

"One step closer to an Industrial Era, Captain, especially with the clockwork and steam incorporations."

 

"Communications?" Her attention winged over to the COMM officer on duty.

 

"Nothing detected, Sir; that's not to say there aren't communications to detect, we just haven't been able to record anything yet. There are several satellites in slow decay orbits, and we managed to pull the name 'Grayson' from an internal data node of one. The other satellites have different markings on them."

 

Calestorm rubbed a thumb at an eyebrow, considering. Commander Wesley and Alpha shift were due in another thirty. Wesley had been contacted along with Cale and as yet had not made an appearance; that matter would keep, for now.

 

Once more into the breach…her decision made, she started relaying orders.

 

"Helm, maintain current distance and location, do not approach the planet."

 

The middle aged woman then called over to the FOPS station. "Coordinate with Lieutenant Honor-Scar. I want two volunteer pilots - one Tomcat, one Hornet - for a communications run back through the Barrier. In addition, I want a Tom recon launch for atmospheric entry, full EC suite, stealth mode."

 

The officer responded with an "Aye Ma'am" and went about handling the assigned orders.

 

"Inform Lieutenant Silver as well should the volunteer messengers be dual listed as SEC and Pilot."

 

"Aye Ma'am, inform the Cee Sec."

 

Crash settled into her command chair and took another sip of her tea - Doctors Orders, to back off from the coffee intake, don't ya know? - curiosity definitely peaked by the (more) unusual turn of events, but caution was the name of the game for now.