Regrets: I've Got A Few

[Crash Calestorm 0]

The following log takes place during our 2 hour TBS...

 

With Operation: Whiteout on the downturn and the local Nova AC authorities stepping in for the clean up, the undercover operatives from the SS Imperious had begun to rotate back to the home ship. 

 

Admiral Shauna Coyote and Colonel Craig Tigard were currently handling things planetside, with Captain Mitros and his Hard Six along with CDR JoNs and the Imperious/Washington Crossing overlaying for the next week at Nova to make sure things truly did settle down with regard to Black Kris sector activities.

 

Captain Calestorm had managed to drag herself back to the USS Comanche Creek. Actually, she had been kicked off Nova AC. 

 

Well, okay, kicked off was a strong term...

 

It had been suggested by Admiral Coyote that Cale ‘get her rear end off Nova AC and get some sleep’. She hadn’t argued - yeah, shocking wasn’t it? - and hopped an S&R shuttle rotating back to the Sheep Farm.

 

Steam clouded the mirror in her private head, and she braced herself on either side of the sink with her hands; she reached up to wipe away the condensation from the glass.

 

She’d gotten a much needed shower, wiping away the dirt and grime from the mission. Next had been injecting herself with a dermal anti-chem, and the solution had removed the darker pigmentation to her skin. The blue contacts were gone. Goodbye to ‘Captain Lightwind’ and hello to the former Captain Calestorm.

 

On a random girly girl note, she was liking the shorter hair cut and it would probably stay, silver hair and all - it was a practical style.

 

...Crash felt like hell.

 

Muscles ached with a vengeance. Various bruises throbbed. She’d been going on sheer stubbornness for hours, and she needed to sleep; undercover ops didn’t normally leave a lot of leeway for sleep, especially ops such as Whiteout with an added time crunch.

 

That whole jumping out the window thing probably hadn’t helped. Scuffling with a large Kzinti feline with the nasty claws definitely hadn’t helped.

 

She worked her jaw from side to side and tentatively touched the bruised section where the fist had impacted. She’d never even seen the punch coming. Jay H. Christmas the woman had a good hook. Long reach...probably would’ve made a damn good lightweight boxer on the Academy team...

 

The captain rolled her neck, cracking vertebrae as she did so. 

 

She reasserted her game face; as the cliche went - she could sleep when she was dead