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RAdm S.Coyote

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

The following log takes place immediately prior to the 08.19.13 Sim…


Stardate 2261102.

USS Comanche Creek NCC-214

Captains Ready Room


A ping sounded, indicating that the final invitee for the inter-galactic conference call had signed into the secure audio/visual wireless feed.


The officers in attendance were Admiral Robert Bennett* of San Francisco Command, Rear Admiral Shauna Coyote of Border Patrol First Threat Response Command, Brigadier General Mitchell Patton of Border Patrol First Threat Response Marine Command, Commander JoNs of the USS Washington Crossing on detached duty from Special Operations Command to the FTR, and Captain Calestorm.


Admiral Coyote started the meeting, her real time image showing clearly on the multi-split screen desktop viewer in Crash’s office. “We all know why this meeting has been called so I’ll skip the preliminaries and go right for the source: the Intelligence from Mareena was interesting reading.”


Crash nodded in agreement. “The courier that brought us the chit was pretty banged up but as you’ve all read in the reports he pulled through thanks to the ‘Creek medical staff. I’ll straight up go on record to say it don’t really matter if it was Black Kris operatives that nailed him or outside operatives from another faction.”


The Native American officer spoke again. “It would seem that the Orion Cartel and its loose association of factions are going through some changes, this much we can be certain of. As for the Black Kris going legit, we know from the background checks conducted by Starfleet Intel that Lady Mareena has the credits and contacts to back the play. Obviously, our concerns are the Outer Rim and the frontier sectors and how it affects the borders if the smugglers and pirates are mixing it up.


A lopsided grin quirked General Patton’s mouth as he asked Crash, “How is the Byblos fella settling in? You and the Commander list him on the manifest as a ‘Mercenary Specialist’?


“He’s already found his way to the MARDET range for target practice and the jarheads - no offense Sir - hardly batted an eye. Our former heavy weapons expert, Staff Sergeant Vega, has already informed me he’s eyeing the Big Guy as a de facto replacement after word got around about the contraption Byblos was firing on the range.”


“And speaking of the Staff Sergeant - how is his RRF coming along?”


“Commander Wesley and I are happy with the results. Vega has gathered representatives from all our departments and they’re in final training now; it’d be best for any bad guys to stay on their good side when we deploy them as our forward squad.”


“And the recent personnel assignments to the FTR?” This question came from Admiral Bennett.


“I expect the newbie Caitian for Sciences to settle in nicely once he sheds the greenie fur. The shave tail Marines’ll be fine once their betters get a hold of them, and the Damage Control teams are doin’ fine last I heard.”


And speaking of Caits, the purring lilt of Commander JoNs gently interceded at that moment. “Captain, what’s your opinion on the Cartel and this supposed civil war?”


The most junior officer of the command group had eloquently steered the talk back onto main topic of the Outer Rim territories. JoNs and her thirty man - and women - crew earned their pay as SPECOPS Commandos, but Crash had noticed the felinoid could be quite the diplomat since they’d started working together.


To the cat’s inquiry, Crash shook her head in the negative. “This is way beyond the Orion Cartel, Commander, way beyond. Hell, we’re not even in the same astro ballpark. The evidence our scans have located,” she waved a hand to emphasize the darkness of space beyond the bulkheads, “with the wreckage of the Ferret-Class LAC* and that Weasel-Class Courier boat? We got some independent civvie involvement goin’ on here; it ain’t just the Orion Cartel factions.”


The San Francisco-type interjected. “And you believe what this Mareena has to say, Captain?”


“I do. She’s gettin’ out while the gettin’ is good and goin’ her own way as a security consultant and I can’t fault her for that; she’s really no different from the civilian security contractors that the Starfleet employs and pays for their particular services.”


Earth Deskbound really didn’t care for the comparison judging by the flash of annoyance in his eyes, but he stayed quiet. It’s not that Crash didn’t like him but Bennett had taken over the position at San Francisco Headquarters from Christopher Pike* and Bennett was no Chris Pike.


Calestorm shrugged one shoulder slightly as she continued speaking. “It only took the scurvy lot of them two years since most of the home Fleet was wiped out by that nutcase Nero, but let’s roll with the assumption that the frontier smugglers are bolder, finally making a move on the Federation sectors to expand on business...”


Admiral Bennett then asked, “Recommendations from FTR Command?”


“We maintain watch. Increase our patrols in the Federation sectors, especially at the known hot spots such as Harrington. No action will be taken unless needed.” Coyote answered Bennett with Patton, JoNs and Calestorm nodding in silent agreement.


The meeting continued for another forty minutes or so as personnel, ship assignments and future missions were further discussed. As Command Staff meetings went, this one was rather painless and Cale didn’t even feel the need to slip some alcohol in her cooling tea or something like that. The participants signed off of the as the conference call disbanded until only Crash and Wile E remained on the line for a private word with one another.


“You’re worried.” That was Shauna for you - short, sweet, to the point - and she really hadn’t changed much over the years.


Calestorm eyed the Admiral over the two-way visual feed, her expression innocent. “Three words: Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot*.”


Coyote smiled, chuckled and waved a hand at her sometimes hard-charging line captain. “I’m glad you didn’t say that during the meeting. JoNs and Patton would have been fine, of course, but I think you would have given Bennett apoplexy.”


“The boy ain’t exactly frontier officer material and I didn’t wanna scare him. Lemme put it this way Shauna: I’m a concerned galactic citizen.”


The Admiral made a gentle motion for her to continue, the gesture picked up in the secure wireless feed.


Crash returned the smile at her commanding officer and longtime friend, the expression both wistful and weary. “I mean, considering the last time something like this happened with the Cartel and independent civilians and professional smugglers making big moves on territory was the Orion Cartel Campaign of 2228*? You know, where those two young and intrepid fighter pilots cut their teeth? Yeah, I’m a bit concerned right now.”


“We had some good times then Ashton.”


“True...” Crash paused and then the older women finished in unison the long-running joke between the two of them, “…when we weren’t getting shot at!” The shared laughter died off but the smiles remained despite the serious overtones of the conversation.


“You keep yourself and the crew safe as you can Captain Crash.”


“That’s always the plan Admiral Wile E, always the plan; Comanche Creek out.”



= = = =

*As played by Harve Bennett (Producer, Star Trek V: The Final Frontier) (1989)

*Light Attack Craft (Copyright note: the Ferret-Class LAC is featured in the Honor Harrington novel Ashes of Victory (1998) by David Weber)

*Captain/Admiral Christopher Pike as seen in Star Trek (2009) and Star Trek: Into Darkness (2013)

*Sarcastic military slang used to describe a non-ideal situation

*Calestorm and Coyote received campaign ribbons for their participation in these skirmishes

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