Say What? Strange Bedfellows

[Crash Calestorm 0]

The following log takes place 24 hours prior to the 10.08.12 Sim…

 

Pre-Launch Briefings

New Topeka Colony

Starfleet FTR Offices

 

Captain Calestorm had been ordered to report to the First Threat Response offices for several pre-launch meetings with Admiral Shauna Coyote, FTR Commanding Officer. The offices were very busy with usual business as well as the Comanche Creek crew returning to the orbital docks post-shore leave.

 

The meetings were still ongoing and in the meantime she ‘escorted’ her two charges out of the FTR office building. She couldn’t believe this…Mareena Romo and Serval, of the Black Kris Faction of the Orion Cartel, followed in her wake. And, they were wearing the blood red tunics of the Starfleet Operations division.

 

Shauna* had handled the ‘personnel’ assignments herself owing to the nature of the Intel to be provided. It was not unusual to see Orions or Caitian or Caitian-Kzinti felinoids serving in the Starfleet but what really rankled Crash was the fact that the Corporate faction pirates would be on her ship. She was fine with them acting as informants, and that was about as far as her charity went. Nothing had been mentioned about either Mareena or Serval and Calestorm working together.

 

Cale's green eyes glittered with agitation. “I appreciated any assistance you can give with our upcoming missions. However, the only reason you are welcome on my boat is because my commanding officer has ordered it, you hear me now?”

 

Serval and Mareena spontaneously launched into text book salutes, straight faced, no trace of humor; the gesture only succeeded in further aggravating Crash.

 

The older Orion woman spoke, dropping the salute. “My Dear Captain, Mister Serval and I did have lives before our involvement with the Black Kris. Former lives, you might say, eh, Serval?” Mareena winked at her companion. The big Kzinti smiled at his employer, showing fangs. .

 

Mareena continued speaking. “And yet you assume that we have no service background whatsoever. Your Federation Starfleet is not the only peacekeeping military organization in the known galaxy…”

 

“It just receives the most news press and advertises itself as the next best thing in the universe…” Serval interjected with a touch of snarled derision in his tone as he adjusted the duffel slung across a meaty shoulder.

 

Crash opened her mouth to verbalize exactly what she thought of that comment but was interrupted by the older woman.

 

“--for your information, Captain, Serval was a member in good stead with the Kzinti Honor Guard. I served for three years with an Orion para-military unit that patrolled the cargo trade lanes.”

 

“Why?” She glared at them. The one word was loaded with unasked questions.

 

Mareena glanced to Serval, nodding silently at him. The Kzin-Tiger cocked his head to one side as he answered the question. “Why not? We have specialized skills and knowledge of the Outer Rim factions. This is the information you need.”

 

Calestorm was on the tall side for a woman, but the cat was several centimeters taller. “What in the hell kind of answer is that?” She stepped right in his personal space, chin set at a defiant angle as she glared at the Kzinti, not caring about the height difference.

 

“The same kind of answer to the question you posed.” He in turn gazed down at her and flipped an ear back.

 

“You listen to me, you Big Furball—“

 

The older female interrupted again diffused the situation. “You have our services in the interim, Captain. I suggest you make use of the particular skills that we offer for any upcoming issues.” Mareena spoke plainly, purposely not mentioning specifics, but the undertones were there.

 

Crash managed to growl out, “You’ll both have to excuse me as I have a meeting scheduled with the Admiral and my Executive Officer. Clear your assignments with my CSEC. Report to the Bosun* for assignments. A transport shuttle leaves in ten. Don’t be late, don’t mess with the pilot.” She nodded politely, ingrained Southern-bred manners never completely gone in the wake of temper and walked back through the entry way doors of the office building.

 

“Serval?” The Orion woman eyed the Kzinti as he sniffed at the air.

 

He glanced at his employer and growled low in his throat. “I’m reminded of…,” the big felinoid sniffed the air again, his expression speculative. “The Tiberian wolf-hound, territorial; the females are twice as deadly. He flashed a grin. “This should be interesting.”

 

The only comment Mareena made was, “Our Dear Captain is probably not a feline person, then...”

 

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*Rear Admiral Shauna 'Wile E' Coyote, Commanding Officer

*CSEC – Chief of Security

*The Bosun – a supervisory position on Naval vessels