From the desk of Admiral Kendra Cassidy, Terran Federation
You know, it seems like I met the Chief yesterday. What’s funny, for all that she’s become a de-facto aunt to our children, is that neither Cass nor I knew her, back in the day.
She was a friend of Lisa’s – so the proverbial ‘friend of a friend’ – and it took some selling by Lisa to convince Cris…
Let me back up.
When the Chief was brought in, I was in chains in a cage in the California Confederacy, and Cass had been caught by this real nasty piece of work at HLC. That meant that Cris Montana, who at the time was an agent at OutLook and had just gone over to Cass’s side, was in charge. It was her, and Mac, and Dr. Lisa Mantchev, who they had just rescued, and they needed to recruit a team, fast.
Lisa, who’s a friend of Cass, suggested the Chief. When Cris asked why the Chief had been retired, Lisa said it was because she’d kicked the shit out of a Team commander when he told her to stay behind on a mission. And when Cris pressed as to why a retired SEAL would be available for what looked like a hopeless mission, Lisa said:
“Mikki? She’s always bitching about not having any good ways to blow off steam since she left the Teams; she said the last good fight she got into was last year when she was visiting Newport News and took on a squad of MP’s at a local bar. According to her, after she left the first squad ‘sorry and sore’, the second squad came in the bar, looked, turned around and double-timed it out of there. That was the end of her fun because nobody else would take her on.”
Well, Cris had to have her then.
She was absolutely instrumental in organizing and leading the effort that freed Cass. Me, though, I got out on my own, and when I met the Chief, well, it wasn’t quite as smooth.
‘Ladies,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to interrupt, but we have some pressing issues.’
I recovered my composure first. Still holding Cass’s hand, I turned to face Stone.
‘You must be the SEAL,’ I said without preamble.
‘Master Chief Mikki Stone. Retired SEAL.’ She extended her hand, then retracted it when she noticed that I wasn’t about to let go of Cass.
‘Agent Kendra Marissa Cassidy,’ I replied. ‘Also retired. I think we have the, ah, unwillingness of our retirement in common.’ I nodded to Stone. ‘You must be good. Montana doesn’t tolerate incompetence on her teams.’
Stone looked at Montana at that. She shrugged.
‘I told you I hurt people and break things. I didn’t say I wasn’t an expert in team dynamics and combat skills evaluation.’
‘Right,’ said Stone, deadpan. ‘In any case, we have some planning to do. I don’t think here is the right venue.’
‘Agreed,’ I said.
She turned out to be just as tough as advertised, and kept her head through the rest of that nightmare. When it was all over, when she had the chance to fade away, she instead chose to sign up with OutLook and use her expertise for good, training new agents. When our daughters were born (Mikki in ’14, Lisa in ’15), she suddenly found the oddest maternal streak.
Well, we call it her maternal streak. From the outside it probably looks more like a drill sergeant, but both the girls love her and will do just about anything she asks.
She’s the daughter of a UNSEC veteran who grew up following her father from post to post around the planet. She’s been in more firefights than I’ve had acting gigs, and is the most loyal friend and ally we have ever had. I am happy to know her, proud to have worked with her, and honored to call her part of our ohana.