Snoop Leader Personal Log

[GSgt Mike Hefner 0]

Snoop Leader Personal Log

GSgt Mike Hefner, SFMC

139th Marine Battalion

USS Agincourt - Corianis

 

The screech of his hazmat alarm barely carried over the riot and in the ensuing chaos Mike vaguely remembered screaming "Gas!" and scrambling for his full head mask when a glint of sunlight caught his eye. Looking up he'd seen a flash of shuttle wing brokering the bright logo of USS Jackrabbit. Damn Calestorm. A pass or two later and the shuttle had given a victory roll before it shot into the stratosphere. Thankful that Harper had reassigned him to combat/recon for crowd control, patrol, and whatever other mess needed tending to, Mike had his hazmat gear handy. He reached into his pack for extra rebreathers and tossed them around. Unfortunately it was too late for most of them, but some had managed - barely - to hold a breath, though their eyes streamed like sweat off a lathered mount.

 

Mike wasn't one to grouse, but, along with everyone else, this Calestorm had him on edge. The very name conjured all kinds of images, chief among them being a mean mongrel bitch they had on the ranch to keep coyotes at bay. Hell, that wasn't the only thing she kept at bay. Big Joe Tiner, the town hot head, stood six foot three but came closer to twelve after cleaning out the bar on a Saturday night. He'd once taken a notion to Mike's sister, Kate, and followed her home in a fit of rejection. Grounder had come by that name naturally. She nailed him at the gate, chewed on his leg like it was the juiciest ham she'd ever tasted and sent him howlin' into the field. Joe never did come back. Never bothered Kate again, either.

 

The only combat image that came to mind when Calestorm's name flew through the air as it did a lot lately was a ramrod senior officer Mike worked with before Recon. His name was Alouicious Jackson Pennywort, but you called him A.J., Cap, or a crisp respectful SIR, and that was it, or he'd make you wish you'd never seen the light 'o day. He was tall and burly, had a damn bad attitude and worse mouth. Cap'n finally came around, though, after several calculated scraps that Mike lost but took in stride. Come to find out, Alouicious and Jackson were family names. Problem was, as a kid saddled with that name, by the time A.J. got into the Corps he'd developed a chip bigger'n a hull-buster and packed a punch twice as mean. But if you needed cover, A.J. was the one to give it, hands down. Nothin' he wouldn't do for a fellow Marine. Attitude aside, there was no one better to cover your six or stand up for you than A.J. So yeah, Calestorm reminded Mike of A.J., except that A.J. covered whoever needed it and would give his life if he had to. Calestorm was ornery. She took care of her own, the rest be damned.

 

To deal with the rumblings that threatened to shift focus for his team, Mike constantly reminded himself that something must have given Calestorm that attitude. She had a burr stuck somewhere for sure, but he was too much of a gentleman to mention where. Yeah, she'd gone to extremes on Corianis and she shunted her attitude on to her crew. But you get passed over once too often or you get stuck on backwater planets for long stretches, you lose perspective. You lose enough people and you go to extremes. Get a little crazy, like dumping gas on top of 'Court's security teams and waggling your wings afterward. But, Mike reminded himself again, Harper was in command now and Mike's primary mission was to shift focus back to the mission, to get his team back on track. Gathering Snoop around him they headed out for their next assignment.