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Crash Calestorm

Friends in Low Places: Morag (Part 2)


Abandoned Planet

Nova Corps Territory


After securing transport with the rag tag crew of a sector hopper, Crash Calestorm had called in some favors and gathered a small team who could be trusted. The former Starfleet security, pilots and border patrol personnel were referred to as the “Ben Gay Brigade” by the younger crew of the transport.


Eh, whatever. If the name fit...


The captain of the hopper had been true to his word and they’d achieved landing at Morag with no incident. Cale and her team had been bird dogging the Ravager camp for two days now, gathering intelligence and digital recordings on Yondu and his band of pirate Ravagers. They had more than enough information at this point on the dealings the pirate band engaged in.


The older woman now lay prone on a shelf of rock, several kilometers distant from the pirate camp. As usual it was raining and she wore wet weather gear. The scope on her sniper rifle never wavered as she kept tabs on the pirate camp and her own team as they went about their business - in disguise as a “crew of ill-repute” - trading supplies with Yondu and his men.


She heard the movement as the piece of rock shifted and whirled, rising and bringing the scope to bear in the direction of the target. Before she could complete the revolution a shape loomed up in her left periphery and half-tackled, half brought down Crash.


In the ensuing scuffle she brought up the matte black combat knife and stopped several inches from slamming it into the intended target between exposed seams. Her notice of the subdued delta shield on the front of the chest plate stopped her in time, thank God.


Crash and her opponent stood apart, both panting; she was pretty sure several scopes had gotten into position to sight down on her by now and slung her own rifle over her shoulder in a deliberate gesture before speaking.


“So you Folks decided to get off your backsides and do something? It’s about damn time. And there are easier ways of getting my attention aside from sneaking up on me.”


“Call off your team. My squad will handle it from here. Consider yourself in protective custody, Captain Calestorm.” Female voice, gruff, slightly distorted by the protective face gear.


Calestorm almost blurted out protective custody? From who, myself? Or doing your job? But instead offered a half-assed salute and responded with a sarcastic. “Yes, Sir.”


She flashed a disdainful look at the gathering Starfleet SpecOps types before speaking into the ear mic to instruct her hired mercs and the team to exfiltrate the camp immediately.


*Nova Corps, Morag, Yondu and the Ravagers appear courtesy of “Guardians of the Galaxy” (2014)

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