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Crash Calestorm

Mexican Standoff

Crash Calestorm could move pretty fast for an old broad when she needed to. Happy boots, fast boots, ninja boots!

 

Her lanky form slammed around a curve with the precision borne of self-preservation and as she cleared the mid-way point through the access alley, she dropped a small metallic device and kept on running. She dove off to one side and around, slamming her shoulder against the pre-fabricated structure and held her blaster at the ready…just in case.

 

The sound of boots pounding against the packed earth was followed by the whump of a pulse discharge and then the dull thuds as bodies hit the ground. Calestorm hazarded a peek into the access area and her three pursuers lay stunned on the ground.

 

The captain unclipped three small transporter beacons from her utility belt and flung them towards the downed smugglers. The devices clamping to a leg, arm or torso and within seconds the transmit signal was picked up and they disappeared tin the swirl matrix of the Comanche Creek transporter.

 

The ship had moved in system as the assault on the base commenced and any hostile tagged with the transponders were beamed up for incarceration; the ‘Creek was also hassling and jamming any attempts by the smuggler ship as it attempted to recover its crew from the surface of the planet. Additionally, Lieutenant Honor-Scar and her fighters had been deployed to deal with any straggling pirate fighters.

 

She spoke quickly and precisely in her ear mic, the audio feed heard by the ground teams and ship Bridge Ops. “Three more packages are off for delivery, continuing along the perimeter towards the base control center, Crash out.”

 

There were younger officers, officers such as CDR Wesley, Mission Specialist Byblos, NCO’s such as SSGT Vega and Security trained in advanced ground tactics that could more than handle the main assault contingent while she had taken sweep duty to catch any targets bolting from the base.

 

Crash jogged up to two battle buddies from Security and with a quick flurry of hand signals, the three continued on together.

 

According to the constant real-time reports on ground team to ship wireless, fourteen of the pirates remained unaccounted for on the surface base. Yondu had not yet been accounted for as well and….”Oh sh*t!”…live blaster fire was slung at Crash and the two SEC guards as they rounded the perimeter of a building.

 

The three Fleeters ducked and scattered, Calestorm using her momentum to slam her shoulder into the entry way of another pre-fab structure; crashing – pun not intended – through and landing on the tiled decking. She was momentarily stunned while years of and habit forming training allowed her to keep a grip on her weapon.

 

A blaster appeared in her line of vision and she automatically raised her own weapon.

 

“Watch yourself now, Captain. I’d a Terran crew member – young kid, he’s off guarding the galaxy and stuff like that – would call this a Mexican Standoff. So how about you drop your weapon since you’re in no position to negotiate?” His blaster never wavered as the pirate leader stood over her prone form.

 

Her blaster as well stayed on target. “Mister Yondu, I’d take you a whole lot more serious if your fly wasn’t down.”

 

(To Be Continued In Sim…)

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