Mission Creep

[Crash Calestorm 0]

The following log takes place during our 48 Hour TBS…

 

The Border Patrol’s presence in the Harrington sectors had started with added protection for Harrington Starbase. As the days and weeks went on however, the protection mission had started to creep. Mission creep implied that an operation experienced some successes, leading to additional goals not covered in the original mission launch parameters. The Harrington protection detail hadn’t had successes so much as a series of deflections, but it was enough for the creep to take root.

 

The botched attack with the Olympic Carrier. The mech-spiders sent to sabotage the original Harrington base. Speculation over the news nets as the unrest increased in the frontier sectors. Harcourt Fenton Mudd and friend had shown up on the radar, joy and happiness.

 

The sobering thing was that when a career con man and downright irrepressible rogue told you to possibly prepare for war? Calestorm believed him. The FTR would have to wait on a final decision from San Francisco Command, but Mudd’s testimony pretty much backed up the regular updates from Starfleets own operatives.

 

Commander JoNs and her commandos had been recalled from the Badlands, ending the original three month duration early. The Caitian and her team had gathered enough intelligence to back up Mudd’s observations and now the Starfleet Brass had to make a decision. The civil war broiling among the Orion Cartel factions continued, but remained contained to the Outer Rim territories for now. Non-Orion groups were getting involved, not necessarily taking sides but taking advantage of the Orion upheaval to conduct their own mayhem. That was a problem.

 

The Dragoons were the primary. They were aggravating the already volatile Orion situation. The ‘Wraith’ had sent a message loud and clear to the Starfleet with the Olympic Carrier and sector breaches: we’re coming for you.

 

The admittance chime to her sea cabin* bleeped and Calestorm looked up from the report on the data slate she was checking over; additional data slates and sector map flimsy copies were spread across the desk in organized chaos.

 

“Enter.”

 

Major Bill Fasjovik, commanding officer of the Comanche Creek’s MARDET entered the cabin and offered a crisp salute. “Sir, reporting as ordered with battle readiness update.”

 

She winged him a look. “Flip, it’s after twenty two hundred and we’re both off duty. Can the spit and polish.”

 

“Just keeping up with appearances.” He kept his face typical marine no nonsense but his tone came across as jaunty and his tired eyes carried a boyish gleam.

 

The silver-white haired woman flashed him a crooked smile. “Right. What d’ya have for me?”

 

A veteran of the Orion Cartel Wars like her, Flip and Crash had an easy working relationship. It helped he was one of the best MARDET commanders in the Starfleet as well as a damn fine pilot.

 

The marine handed her yet another data slate. “My squads are ready. Boarding parties, repel boarders and whatever situation we may run into. Names cross-referenced for specialists that can jump between teams as needed.””

 

“Good work.”

 

“Are we going in Crash? My boys and girls are raring to go.”

 

She was hesitant to commit an answer and had been unusually…evasive with her crew, only confiding in Commander Wesley. Crash agreed the Dragoons were nothing but trouble, but the woman had fought the Cartel Wars and forty odd years later wasn’t something she cared to revisit.

 

That is if the ‘Creek went over the wire and entered the fray, causing a possible off-shoot situation.

 

As a young wolf pup, all fangs and swagger and a hotshot pilot, she’d no idea what she was getting herself into during the Cartel skirmishes of the latter 2200’s. As a vetted officer she understood the casualties that could come out of blatant Fleet interference - no matter the threat - in the Bad Lands, the Outer Rim, whatever you called the area.

 

Instead, she hedged her answer to the man. “Admiral Coyote is waiting on the final word from San Fran Command. You’ll know as soon as I know Flip.” She paused and then said, “You get some rack time and thanks for running this report up.”

 

If he held any disappointment with the brusque yet respectful dismissal, the Major was too much of a professional to let it show and took his leave of the Captain.

 

*Ready Room