Lost Personnel MIA Confirmed

[Crash Calestorm 0]

The following off-plot log is a continuation of the events in the 02.12.12 MIA log…

 

February 22, 2260

Stardate 2260.53

 

It was three o’clock AM ships time. Why did weird things always happen between two and three o’clock in the morning? Thirty minutes prior, Captain Calestorm had been roused from sleep by the third shift COMM officer with a priority communiqué. After checking out the message and visuals, she’d contacted Rear Admiral Shauna Coyote and Brigadier General Craig Tigard* pronto and in that order.

 

Short white-silver hair sticking out at angles, clad in a “Go Starfleet’ tee and cut-off sweatpants, Calestorm waited patiently for the feed on her desk console to pick up the wireless signal with bare feet planted on the deck, right leg bouncing up and down in an old habit from childhood.

 

Tigard’s visage popped onto the monitor and she didn’t waste any time with pleasantries. “We got some issues.”

 

Craig rubbed the last bit of sleep from his eyes. “What’s going on?” His voice was rough with unshed fatigue.

 

“Big Mama contacted me again.” Calestorm was careful to use the code name assigned to Mareena*.

 

Tigard confirmed his understanding with a quick nod.

 

“That body found on T’tooine, the Starfleet officer?”

 

He indicated that she go on with a grumpy wave of his hand. See? Even Brigadier Generals didn’t wake up with all happy and sunshine bunnies.

 

“Mama confirmed definitely that there are survivors from the battle; she sent me encrypted surveillance footage copped from some Outer Rim dive. The facial recognition software pinged MIA Starfleet personnel.”

 

Tigard swore vehemently under his breath. “How in the hell did they get that far out from Vulcan?’

 

“Escape pod drift. Slavers or pirates picked ‘em up. Maybe sold to Rura Penthe as cheap labor? We’ve been hearing ‘bout the Klingons going for slave labor for a few years now…prisoners or slaves, all pretty much the same to ‘em as long as they get those mines stripped.”

 

“Crash? It’s too damn early for TMI. Cut to the chase.”

 

“Shauna’s already looking into clearance for us to head into the Outer Rim. It’ll most likely be a covert op; we’ll need funding and ships, plural. It’s gonna take a while for any kind of mobilization. She gave me orders to keep quiet on the matter for now.”

 

He made a small grunting sound. “I’ll start on my end; make discreet inquiries to my contacts in SPECOPS and OSI*.”

 

Calestorm nodded. “Thoughts? Starfleet can’t just launch rescue ops and waltz into the Outer Territories, not without starting a war on several fronts.”

 

“Agreed. SanFran brass won’t take that chance.”

 

“And…I got your word you won’t do anything crazy?” It needed to be said. She said it.

 

The Brigadier General eyed her. “Watch your mouth, Captain.”

 

His tone and use of her rank reflexively caused her spine to go ramrod straight in reaction, but Cale held her hands up, palms out, to placate him. “General, you know we have to explore all angles. I’m just sayin’. Just like a lot of other CO’s, you lost squads at Vulcan. I know how you feel about that...”

 

He sighed. “You know I’m going with, right?”

 

Oh sh*t.

 

“Nice poker face there, Captain.” Craig smirked.

 

“Stuff it General, I’m tired.” She pursed her lips and blew out through her nose, eyeing him. “Permission to speak freely.” It was a statement, not a request.

 

“Do I have a choice?”

 

“Nope. I know you’ve taken first place at the Sector Games. I know you keep yourself in shape and qualify every time on the armory range…”

 

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ here…”

 

“I’m tellin’ you the same thing I’ve said to Coyote: due respect…you’ve been flyin’ a desk for a few years now. When this shindig finally kicks off and you ride shotgun with us, you follow the rules. You follow Wesley. You follow me. We clear on this?”

 

“Crystal, Captain.” His gaze was attentive, but then his expression relaxed and morphed into a sly grin.

 

“When the deployment is official, I promise I won’t deck you, steal a shuttle, and go off on a rescue mission or steal a shuttle and engage in an unauthorized recon run.” He waggled his eyebrows.

 

Crash pointed a finger at him. “You know what? You’re evil.”

 

“Go get some coffee Captain. Tigard out.”

 

----

Notes:

*NPC’s for use on the USS Comanche Creek Sim

*Leader of the Black Kris, a faction of the Orion Cartel

*Starfleet Special Operations and Office of Special Investigations