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Crash Calestorm

'Cause I Was Inverted (Hornet 20)

The following log takes place during the first 24 hours of our 4 Day TBS…

 

Harrington Sector

Grid AB-4

 

After a landing that had almost gone into a splatter-fest and left Hornet 20 rather dinged up, she’d considered remanding the fighter to training runs. She’d eventually decided not to and after repairs and a fresh coat of paint, the bird was good to go. One change had been the artwork on the forward panel. Originally a tribute to an old friend, Crash had figured “Junk’s Second Chance” had in fact given her that second change by enabling her to survive the botched landing.

 

A few other factors had also been considered for the new design: the covert mission to Rura Penthe had been a dangerous insertion, very physically taxing. The mission to Grayson had been a general pain in the ass with her demotion and eventual re-promotion a direct result of Starfleet politics and the field decisions - her decisions - made on site. Those damn desk jockeys and ‘Arm Chair Colonels’ needed a swift kick to the head, but that was just her opinion.

 

She was no artist, but one of the deck rats had that talent and the fighter now sported winged dice with the words “Life Rolls” as you never knew what life would or could throw at you.

 

And what was Captain Calestorm doing when she wasn’t being artfully introspective? Doing what she did best of course and giving anyone with the sufficient operational clearance a major case of heartburn.

 

Hornet 20 zipped in between two asteroids with remarkable speed, the fighter flipping and completing the maneuver on an arc and then changing course to perform another inverted maneuver. It felt good to be out again in Ol’ Number 20.

 

As she completed the run and settled the Hornet into a stable hover, Tomcat Fifteen and SAR Shuttle Two came purring up, you’ll pardon the cat humor. The Tom was testing out stealth and EC upgrades that had been installed recently while the SAR had been outfitted with an offensive weapons package. Both of the craft were performing well with the upgrades as were their respective pilots, but then again Cale wouldn’t have expected anything less from the two.

 

And right then Staff Sergeant Joseph ‘Big Boy’ Vega, squad leader of the ‘Creeks fledgling Rapid Reaction Force and pilot for SAR Two, barked out over the private wireless, “And what exactly was that, Sir?”

 

Ground Pounders. They were so cute at this age. A happy smile sprouted across Cale’s features as she answered with, “That was me getting my awesomeness on.” She then manipulated the maneuvering thrusters and positioned the Hornet above Vega’s shuttle so that her canopy and his canopy were almost touching. She smiled and waved playfully at the MARDETs heavy weapons expert.

 

“She did not just use awesomeness? Did she just use awesomeness?” Vega pointed a finger upwards towards the opposing canopy and winged a patented Drill Sergeant look. “Don’t make me come up there Hot Dog!”

 

Lieutenant Jagrissa ‘Jumper’ Honor-Scar, ACAG of the Aero Wing, also came over the private wireless reserved for the on-site senior staff and transmitted directly to the FOPs station on ‘Creek. “I know naaaa-thing, I see naaa-thing…” and the purring Caitian’s voice did a pretty good approximation of the German character known as ‘Sergeant Schultz’ from the old-Earth television show Hogan’s Heroes.

 

The show had been premiered at one of the ships movie nights and the catchphrases now refused to die, circulating through the ship and made even funnier - or annoying - when the non-Earth born officers and crew spouted them off. There was nothing like showing a screwball drama-comedy set during Earth’s Second World War to a mixed crew of spacers.

 

Switching gears faster than an illegal land flitter race, Jumper posed a serious question to the Captain, maintaining field protocol with the use of their call signs. “Crash, do you think we’ll run into any problems on this run?”

 

Vega growled out - sounding less Human and more felinoid than the Caitian, but again let’s not digress into the cat humor - over the private communications line, “Damn smugglers. Really starting to cause problems….”

 

Crash knew that Big Boy had encountered some nasty situations with smugglers during his first deployment and as a result did not care for the criminal breed, more so than most. She then considered Jumper’s question; it wasn’t the sort of question from a raw recruit who desperately wanted action. It was the question from an El Tee who actually had a clue after a few years in service and wanted to be prepared for whatever her fighter jocks may or may not come up against.

 

With the RRF squad training in the asteroid field, Honor-Scars boys and girls on patrol along the outer perimeter of the grid section and one very large Kelvin-class heavy destroyer aka the USS Comanche Creek looking all majestic and imposing at station keeping just off the ‘roid field….Crash seriously doubted any smugglers or pirates had remained in the area.

 

To the Caitian ACAG she responded with, “Jumper, unless they were born stupid - and yeah, ah do believe some of ‘em aren’t the brightest crayons in the box - ah don’t think we’ll get any sightings today, not with the flagship poking around. And I’m prolly bein’ optimistic, but any miscreants could’ve also bugged outta the sector if word spread that we’re here on patrol. If we do get a ping on the so-called anti smuggler radar today, the Aero Wing patrols get first dibs with the RRF on backup detail to handle ‘em.”

 

The enlisted and commissioned officer acknowledged the order as one voice.

 

Vega and the cross-departmental RRF squad continued to train in a variety of different scenarios. A couple of them had shown some damn fine piloting skills, including Vega, and the squad itself had manifested a surprising array of skill sets. But this was the unofficial mantra of the Comanche Creek crew as they were the Jacks of all Trades, Masters of None.

 

And they were good at what they did. Damn good…

 

Starbase Harrington oversaw a jurisdiction that had always had problems with smugglers. The last six months had seen an upsurge in activity and if that activity was directly related to the changes within the Orion Cartel or not remained to be seen.

 

But, the ‘Creek was on the job and would handle the Harrington sector issues. The Starfleet Border Patrol was the first to go, last to know, lock and load.

 

Vega interrupted her patriotic pride thoughts with, “Sir….can you please stop being upside down over my shuttle? Now.”

 

His deep voice was equally respectful, amused and ‘don’t make me come over there”, the typical manner of the staff sergeant used to herding officers of all stripes.

 

Calestorm winked and acknowledged with a playful, “Oh, right! Pardon me Staff,” as she maneuvered the Hornet into its correct and upright position.

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