This is Nuts (Plot Log)

[Crash Calestorm 0]

The following log takes place within the hour after the attack on Grayson City…

 

As the Defender of the City of Grayson and elected leader, Kerran Phalen had questions to ask of Calestorm and her team. His offices were large and extensive, indicating the day to day commitment to running a city as large as Grayson. His private office was cozy without being ostentatious; a steward poured a local wine vintage for the Defender and his guest, and then quietly exited the room.

 

Cale’s assigned escort stood quietly against a far wall; a member of the Grayson Guard stood against the opposite wall, watching over Phalen as the security officer did to the Captain.

 

Dressed in a blouse, riding breeches, her long coat slung over the back of the plush blue chair, Calestorm looked like any other traveler or resident of the city; as always, appearances were deceiving. “Lord Phalen, I don’t mean to be rude but as you can imagine, I have questions.” She sipped gratefully at the wine, for her mouth had been dry since spotting the dark dragon up close.

 

“I imagine that you do. Let’s make a wager – you ask your questions, I’ll ask mine. Perhaps I should start the conversation rolling along?”

 

He was to the point, but that was expected in any leader. Her instincts weren’t warning her, so she took that as a good sign. She indicated her agreement with a nod of her head.

 

“Our former Defender was my third cousin. I served as the Chief of the Guard and then his Chief Aide. At his death, he had no children, no direct heirs.”

 

Kerran gave a precise nod. “He died defending this city. At the very least, I can honor his memory and try and do at least half as good a job as he did during his leadership.”

 

“And the mercenaries? The black knight? And was that an…undead dragon?” Even as Cale spoke the words, a portion of her mind was saying ‘this is completely nuts’.

 

“Minions of Count Raven Luca. And, that was a black dragon, actually. That lovely, dark castle set on the mountain outcropping? That is his stronghold. Damn place is dark and lonely, and dangerous. His uncle maintained the Luca property and holdings before Raven. The current count is no more than an unrepentant thug and he desires to lay claim to Grayson and the surrounding villages and farm. He has none of the former Counts morals or compassion.”

 

Calestorm made a sound low in her throat.

 

“A problem, Captain?”

 

“Call me Ashton. And no, not a problem.” She turned and fixed him with a bemused smile. “I’m just trying to figure out just how much more trouble I want to get into with my superiors regarding an Annoying Little Thing.”

 

Phalen stared at her, and then quirked his mouth in a smile. “Oh my. Annoying things can be problematic. I cannot wait to hear this…and you will call me Kerry.”

 

“The Prime Directive states that we cannot interfere with the culture of a world not yet aware, introduced or contacted by the alliances of the larger galaxy. And yet, it can also hamstring us in certain situations where we are able to help a world and choose not to.”

 

He eyed her. “We are not completely unaware of the outside. We choose not to participate.”

 

At that omission, she eyed him. “When we entered your area of space, we passed several derelict hulks. The Grayson Starcon Navy, to be specific.”

 

“Those are from our Before Time.”

 

“And this ‘Before Time’? We also detected what remained of modern building structures on the surface of this planet, and residual readings on massive bombings. We call it a nuclear winter.”

 

“That was….a darkness. The planet was brutalized. MiIllions of lives lost.”

 

“And the Barrier we encountered?”

 

“It is our protection, and has always been a constant in my lifetime. I know nothing of who constructed it; the source power crystal is located here within the city and as you can imagine, guarded. Count Luca would like nothing better than to add the crystal to his arsenal.”

 

“Your Barrier may have caused problems for other travelers; in addition to the Grayson vessels, we detected many other ships seemingly caught within its influence for years and perhaps centuries.”

 

“There are times when certain travelers are allowed passage through the Barrier. Other events have been recorded in our historical archives.”

 

Calestorm rubbed at the back of her neck. “…so are you trying to tell me myself and my crew were meant to find Grayson?”

 

“I am not a Seer, Ashton. Obviously, you are here, so why don’t we deal with that and avoid the contemplations?”

 

Her brow knitted in thought as she pulled her iComanche from an inner vest pocket and thumb scrolled to a particular file. She offered the device to the slightly younger man. “This is the woman who gave us the coordinates that enabled us to locate this world.”

 

Phalen took the unfamiliar communications device and considered the database image of the woman in silence, his jaw working.

 

“Her name was Tonya Barrows, a Lieutenant Commander within our Starfleet. She was,” Crash paused, considering her words and then continued, “possessed by blackness. It called itself ‘Redjac’ and proceeded to jump from victim to victim and slaughter in its wake. The thing took out quite a few of my people and sickened others.”

 

He glanced at her. “It sounds as if you encountered a Shadow Being, a fell creature. It is blight on any goodness. Raven uses them quite frequently in his attacks, the bas****. As for your Lieutenant Commander Barrows, it is possible she is one of our Travelers, but I don’t immediately recognize her.”

 

“Travelers? Pardon?”

 

“We do not prevent our people from leaving Grayson. Should they choose to explore beyond our world, they must register with the nearest city their intentions.” The Defender handed the iComanche back to Calestorm.

 

“…so there is the necessary technology for someone to clear the atmosphere of this world?” Cale cocked an eyebrow.

 

Kerry nodded. “Every generation has those who make the choice to leave and live among the Beyond Worlds.

 

“Do your Travelers return?”

 

“It depends on the individual. Those with an insatiable wanderlust will never return. Others will return to Grayson. Still others bring a husband or wife home.

 

The Captain considered that point for a moment; the mixed marriages could account for the pseudo-Federation races, such as the Vulcan-type ‘elves’ serving on the Town Guard. And, she felt a tension headache coming on. “The so called contamination is already here…” she half muttered to herself.

 

“Pardon me?” Now it was Kerry’s turn to look puzzled

 

She looked at Phalen, decision made. “Let’s just say that my decision just got a little bit easier. You’ll have help against The Count. I generally don’t take kindly to bullies.”

 

“I would very much welcome that help, Captain. We’ve been doing quite well defending Grayson and the outlying provinces, but these last few months have taken a toll.” He took her hand in a firm grip, his tone and words genuine.

 

She returned the handshake. Crash knew how Phalen felt; she’d been there. Sometimes, leadership habits - good or bad or neutral - weren’t as clear cut, such as her knee jerk reaction to send out the Science teams without a Security escort. Grayson was not Dorthan II. This was not the purview of Starfleet Intelligence or the Officer Recovery Program*. She knew what decision she had to make here.

 

“I must speak with my second in command and shore party; I need to brief them on these new matters…”

 

(TBC in Sim…)

 

*A program Calestorm was involved with while assigned to Starfleet Intelligence