Two Colonels, An Admiral and a Captain Walk Into a Hanger Bay

[Crash Calestorm 0]

Shalin -> +Maya+ Tell the Commander that the away team is assembling; we just need the Lead Officer to report and we can be on our way.

STSF_Scooter -> ::taps the button on the center seat:: That would be you, DW. Captain's tied up with official business.

- Comanche Creek 10.21.13 Chat

 

April 17, 2261

Harrington Starbase

 

The cordoned off hanger berth was quiet as the officers attending the ‘for your eyes only’ debrief processed the verbal and digital information that had just been given to them. The salvaged pieces from the EC shuttlecraft explosion were spread out on the landing pad area, grouped according to size, component and function.

 

Calestorm scrolled a finger down the touch screen of her data slate, jumping forward to the same paragraph that she had just read.

 

Damn peculiar…

 

Rear Admiral Shauna Coyote spoke, breaking into the contemplative silence. “Colonel, you’re telling us the shuttle was un-piloted?”

 

Colonel William Tavington gave a nod, the Englishman’s gesture short and curt. “Yes Admiral that is exactly what I am saying. My SI* technicians found evidence in the surviving core systems that the craft was retrofitted to drone specifications.”

 

“Is it safe to assume the unknown fighter was controlling the drone shuttle and detonated to avoid capture?” Cale’s accented tone rang out within the space.

 

“Captain Calestorm, you should be aware as well as I am that in our business assuming can render you quite dead in the right circumstances.“

 

Crash raised an eyebrow.

 

“But in answer to your query, that would be a yes. The projection hypothesis from my staff analyst is that the drone was performing electronic countermeasures and then dropped like so much baggage once you came upon them during your little patrol.”

 

The silver-white haired women turned to her raven-haired counterpart, giving Coyote an imperceptible nod that indicated agreement.

 

Shauna interjected into the conversation. “This isn’t making sense. The Widows Run access corridor and the Harrington sectors are suddenly the new hotspot of the galaxy after years of quiet save for the usual backdoor pirate traffic. The Olympic Carrier, missing for months, is sent in system carrying a nuclear payload with no personnel or civilians on board. Now, we’ve a fighter and drone shuttle with pirate configuration equipment sniffing around the listening outpost…”

 

Colonel Mitchell Patton picked up the conversation from that point. “It’s as if these Dragoons, if they are the pirate group behind all this activity,” he gave a nod to Tavington, “don’t really have their act together. They remind me of Boots just out of Basic. Dangerous, yes, but still learning and with no real combat experience yet.”

 

“Ah agree with Mitch. I’m not sayin’ this mysterious ‘Wraith’ leader and his or her Dragoons aren’t a threat, but it’s like they all don’t have their act together yet which could be more of a problem.” Crash waved a hand vaguely.

 

Colonel Tavington turned his attention to Coyote. “Admiral, how are the plans on your area of responsibility going?”

 

“Preparations are underway and Commander JoNs* and her commandos will be going undercover in the Bad Lands within 72 hours. The FTR had been planning a reconnaissance foray into the outer sectors, we’ve just moved the mission launch date up as well as the locations of interest due to thee recent events. Eighteen personnel will be going undercover; the cover story will be a cargo hauler crew looking for work and we expect no problems. You can expect a detailed report from JoNs.”

 

“Duration?”

 

“Three months.”

 

“And what of the Away Team investigating the Harrington listening outpost?”

 

“Inbound now, select crew of three from the Comanche Creek. Less is more and subtle. If they run into trouble we’ll have backup there before the echo fades on the wireless.”

 

Tavington nodded his approval. “Good. I daresay hope the post wasn’t compromised in any way from our ‘midnight visitors’. In addition the Commander and her crew have full access to any Fleet Intel available to assist with their mission.”

 

Mitchell grinned. “I have word that JoNs’s counterintelligence lead is already drooling over the Dragoon files available, thank you Colonel Tavington.”

 

The Starfleet Intelligence representative actually smiled at the Marine FTR officer, but then his attention shifted to Calestorm and the smile took on the usual unpleasant edge.

 

“Captain Calestorm…I’ve noted that you and your command and department leads seem to enjoy these little jaunts into the unknown, going undercover and all that sort of adventure. Yet …Commander JoNs and her crew seem to be taking on the lion’s share of responsibility this time around. Don’t think you’re up to this one?”

 

Crash fixed Tavington with ‘The Look’. “…Colonel. The First Threat Response program has grown since the division’s inception. We have several ships and crews on the payroll at this point, all equally capable in their duties. The Comanche Creek and her crew are needed to protect Harrington Base…that’s what we do. That’s what we will do.”

 

“I’d say we’ve covered a lot of ground with this meeting. I say we break and pick it up again tomorrow, same time, main conference room.” As the ranking officer Shauna quickly asserted her vaunted diplomacy skills, guiding the meeting to a conclusion.

 

Once Tavington and his aide had exited the hanger bay, Crash turned to the FTR commanding officer and the assistant commander of the FTR Ground Ops.

 

“Y’all do realize I’m prolly gonna deck that walking stiff at some point?”

 

Exasperated looks were winged at Calestorm.

 

“What?”

 

= = =

*Starfleet Intelligence

*Caitian female and commanding officer of the USS Washington Crossing, Starfleet Special Operations vessel attached to the Border Patrol FTR and reporting directly to Admiral Coyote