A Request? Bait & Hemlock

[Crash Calestorm 0]

The following log takes place following our 01.07.13 Sim...

 

“…Mister Calestorm. You are reduced in rank to Commander for one solar year depending on probationary circumstances and performance of restricted duties...Shauna whispered in Cale’s ear…- Being Booked, Admirals Mast 10.08.12

 

“…one of the most experienced captains in the Starfleet.” Captain James Kirk (Classic Star Trek timeline), on Captain Ron Tracey, The Omega Glory (1968)

 

USS Comanche Creek NCC-214

New Vulcan Colony, Anti-Piracy Picket

January 9, 2261 (Stardate 2261.09)

Executive Officers Quarters

 

It was 23:01 hours and Commander Ashton Calestorm stared glumly at the digital slates and hard copy flimsy printouts that lay scattered across the surface of her desk; she swore they were multiplying like tribbles.

 

The desk access intercom alerted to an incoming call and Cale glanced over; she stabbed a thumb at the access toggle. “Yes?”

 

“Commander. Incoming wireless communication for you, command level channel.”

 

“From who?”

 

“Captain Ron Tracey.”

 

Well, alrighty now. “Put the call through, Sparks.”

 

FTR Command Offices

New Topeka Colony

July 9, 2260 (Stardate 2260.190)

 

The whispered comment from Rear Admiral Coyote following the Admirals Mast inquiry was a cryptic ‘my office, ten minutes’.

 

Calestorm triggered the automatic entry doors into the main staff offices and made her way towards the Admirals office, throwing the occasional nod of greeting to the to the administrative staff. Lieutenant Kevin Riley, manning the desk outside Coyote’s office, came to attention when she crossed the threshold access to the inner office areas. “Commander Calestorm.”

 

“At ease El Tee.”

 

“Sir?” He pitched his voice low. “It wasn’t an easy decision for her. The politics are bad and she fought to keep the JAG away from you.”

“I know. That’s why we’re standing here having this conversation and I only have to deal with a rank reduction. Now you get yourself back to work.” She smiled at the younger officer and he nodded to her.

 

Riley toggled the wireless intercom inset on the desk and spoke at the chime. “Commander Calestorm is here to see you, Admiral.”

 

====

Shauna Coyote stood at the alcove that served as an office wet bar. Captain Reed Mitros of the SS Hard Six stood off to one side, wearing the black tunic of a commissioned civilian in Starfleet employ. Brigadier General Craig Tigard, FTR Ground Operations, sat in one of the two chairs placed in front of Coyote’s desk.

 

Reed caught her eye. His expression was neutral but his eyes held the ‘conversation’ only communicated from a lover to a significant other. She then turned her attention on Tigard, who offered a curt if friendly nod.

 

Coming to parade rest, the demoted officer snapped out a brisk. “Commander Calestorm reporting as ordered, Admiral Coyote.”

 

Shauna placed a squat glass of alcohol - the good stuff, from the private collection - on the desk blotter and pointed a slender finger at it, to the Commander, and then the vacant chair next to Tigard. “Sit.”

 

The commander eyed the liquid and asked in a light conversational tone, “…Hemlock?”

 

Tigard rolled his eyes and then reached out a strong hand to grab Cale by the back of her gold command tunic; the senior marine officer pulled and applied her backside to the seat of the leather chair as gently as he was able. He leaned forward to pick up the tumbler and handed it off to her. “Sit. Stay. Do not deploy mouth.”

 

Coyote didn’t waste any time and began to speak as she settled in the chair behind her desk. “As you maintain your new rank and posting, there will be a secondary aspect to your disciplinary action – acting as bait.”

 

Calestorm took a sip before venturing a question. “Bait? Shauna, I don’t understand.” She sensed the mood in the room had shifted and used the Admirals given name.

 

“The information from Doctor Crow* was cross referenced with inconsistencies our supply division has noticed within the past four to six months, mainly supplies not being received at the intended colony or colonies.”

 

Mitros interjected, further expanding on the statement. “The Hard Six was assigned drag detail for the third sector colonies. We were following in the wake of the USS James Walking Bear*, checking that pirates and smugglers aren’t active on the patrol route. The colonies were very low on supplies and shouldn’t have with the Walking Bear covering the supply and medical check-ins for the colonists.”

 

Tigard added, “We’re wondering if Ron is somehow involved and we need to start investigating the possibility.”

Crash got a funny feeling up her spine and her gaze took in her fellow FTR officers as one. “Are y’all telling me you suspect Captain Tracey? Seriously?”

 

Coyote nodded. “That’s correct. With that said, I’m well aware of Ron Tracey’s upstanding command abilities.”

 

“Oh, c’mon, Shauna? Ron Tracey? He’s a veteran and he’d never pull anything like this-“ Calestorm waved a hand in dismissal, “-if he’s gone bonkers, why hasn’t Fleet Psych picked up on it?’

 

The General shook his head in the negative. “His last psych profile with Doctor Van Gelder* was fine. We’re concerned with a change in attitude towards Starfleet due to the loss of his son at the Battle of Vulcan*.”

 

“It still don’t make no sense.” Crash’s accent was at full deploy. Shauna would always be a friend, but she wasn’t overly thrilled with Coyote right now as you might imagine. Why did she always insist on an underlying agenda? Maybe it was a hardwired upper command thing? Could she ever go at an issue head on?

 

Craig cleared his throat. “If Captain Tracey is working the medical black market, he has access to the medical and science supplies that the Walking Bear carries. He also has the opportunity to contact any number of traders or smugglers active along the colony routes willing to deal with him. Bottom line is we need to ascertain if he’s involved or not, Crash.”

 

“…so, you’re thinking if he’s angry, he’ll look to like-minded individuals to build up his network contacts. Say a demoted captain? And you’ve informed Captain Wesley.” It was a statement, not a question.

 

Shauna nodded at Crash’s inquiry. “Yes. Full discretionary and you’re both to bring in personnel as you need them.”

 

Calestorm nodded in understanding and stated plainly, “Big gamble here, Admiral.”

 

“Yes it is, Commander. And I hope we’re wrong.”

 

USS Comanche Creek NCC-214

New Vulcan Colony, Anti-Piracy Picket

January 9. 2261 (Stardate 2261.09)

Executive Officers Quarters

 

Tracey gave her an update on the assistance operations for the weather damaged world - a full recovery effort would take years - but the gist of the conversation was that he wanted the USS Comanche Creek to divert ASAP to the planet of Aquarius to provide additional recovery support.

 

“Uh, Ron, in case you missed the FTR memo, I’m in no position to order the ‘Creek anywhere.”

 

He made a dismissive gesture visible over the wireless feed. “That’s straight bull, Crash. You can’t help it that FTR you came out screwed because of politics. I know how you feel.”

 

“…do you really, Ron?” Her tone came out worn and tired.

 

“My son served twelve years,” he pointed a figure at her across the wireless feed to emphasize his point, “and you were there when he graduated Basic. He’d made Staff Sergeant right before that Romulan, Nero, engaged the Fleet at Vulcan. If not for politics, maybe some of our so called allies would have arrived on site sooner to rescue more of our people…” His voice trailed off and he glanced away from the monitor feed.

 

Calestorm gave him a minute to recover and then spoke again. “Okay, what is it that you’d like the ‘Creek to do?”

 

Tracey seemed grateful for the change in topics. “The smuggling situation here is very involved and I want the best to help me handle it. I want the ‘Creek crew and Scooter Wesley and I want you, Crash, for your unique perspective on situations.”

 

Oh, wonderful, now I’m unique. “Let me speak to the Captain and we’ll see what we can work out…” and just what does he want my ‘unique’ perspective on?

 

“I knew I could count on you. Tracey out.” He winked, showed that dazzling smile of his, and then severed the communications line. Cale stared at the blank monitor screen for a moment, her mind working on this new development.

 

Tracey was the officer on site for the planetary assistance at Aquarius and had the authority to request personnel or ships from the FTR program. He was one of the best captains the Starfleet had ever given the silver stripes to. Coyote and Tigard were just being overly cautious.

 

Dang the Admiral and her cutesy little cloak and dagger games…

 

She unfolded her lanky frame from the desk chair and walked over to the small wet bar. Reaching for the vintage whiskey that Ron had presented to her as congratulations when she’d taken on the captaincy of the ‘Creek, she uncorked the cap and poured the contents into a thick tumbler glass. After polishing off a few shots, she replaced the bottle on the shelf.

 

She glanced at the chronometer and noted the time was late. Regardless, she needed to report on her ‘midnight caller’ to Captain Wesley and Crash walked back towards the desk to activate the inset communications intercom access in one smooth motion.

 

Notes:

* Friend of Calestorm’s, mentioned in “Sanctuary” Log (09.24.12)

* First Threat Response ship (Medical Services)

* Dr. Simon Van Gelder, Classic Star Trek/TOS (Tracey and Van Gelder were both portrayed by actor Morgan Woodward)

* 2258, New TOS timeline