Plot Log Hinky (Osiris Prime)

[Crash Calestorm 0]

The following plot log takes place during the 15 minute Time Between Sims…

 

“This is damn peculiar.” – ADM James T. Kirk, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982)

 

This was damn peculiar. For the second time in as many minutes, the thought flitted through Captain Calestorms mind.

 

Where in the hell are they? She stood in the main compartment of Lieutenant Ashers living quarters and like most of the crew quarters, this was as a plasti-steel troop transport container pod converted for use by the survey team. Heavy canvas tents were also used as processing and deployment areas.

 

Her right hand rested lightly on her holstered phaser as she gave the interior a visual once over.

 

Nothing was out of place and there was no outward indication that anything hinky had gone down. Binders containing hard copy reports were placed neatly on a plastic bookshelf. The spartan furniture was neatly arranged. A holo-picture placed on the desktop featured a young, dark-skinned woman wearing a Sciences blue uniform dress.

 

The Captain settled in the chair at the desk and activated the computer console. Pulling a bypass chit from a trouser pocket, she twirled the device in between her fingers; it was a neat little doo dad the technical whizzes in Security had come up with. Programmed to seek out specific key words and phrases, it would access any relevant video recordings, typed reports or images contained on the hard drive. Once the console had booted up, she inserted the chit in a data access port and waited. After a few moments, five files appeared on screen and she clicked on the most recent, a video recording.

 

The strong features of the commanding officer popped up on the view screen and Cale watched and listened as he gave an update on the progress of the survey team. Again, there was nothing unusual of note, no hitch in his speech pattern to indicate distress…if anything he seemed a little bored, or maybe tired.

 

A knock on the access hatch interrupted the recording, his verbal invitation to “come on in”, and another voice could then be heard from off-screen.

 

“Lieutenant, the Recon fire team’s returned from scouting North Grid Two. Doc Montoya wants to see you, nothing urgent. Corporal Tremaine? She seems a little out of it, either from dehydration or fatigue he’s not sure yet.”

 

“Here I come…” Asher turned his attention back to the computer and the image blinked off as he cut the recording session.

 

Crash ran a hand through her short silver-white hair, sagging back in the chair as she blew a breath out through her nose. “This is damn peculiar…”