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Jason Alexander was tired of the mountain road, even as it approached the river. Working for the Commonwealth over the last two years had given him a new perspective on just about everything. In truth, Jason worked with Mechs, huge bipedal machines that often were the vanguard to war. Mechs determined who won, and who lost. It was as simple as that. He had to look at what might hold one of these unstoppable war machines back, or what they could use to their advantage. The mountains would be a problem, but then most of the Mechs would be using ravines and passes, following the same routes as conventional vehicles.
Turning north the road began to follow an ancient river bank, now little more than a steep drop off after having been eaten away by the flowing waters over what only could have been centuries. He could see the river now, sparkling in the distance as he headed towards Nightingale Falls, a small resort town, built into the shadow of the majestic falls themselves. The road was little more than a two lane highway that followed the worn away hillside. Drivers had to be careful to pay attention as the road twisted back and forth following the ledge. The grade down towards the river was sufficient to stop a Mech if it tried to reach the roadway itself, or for those who charged out of forested mountains one hell of a drop if you weren't prepared.
The great rocky mountainous spur known as Lightning Point appeared within Jason's line of sight first. It towered over most of the smaller rugged hill crests with their tall trees. For a moment he looked off to the left and down into the river valley below. He could just see it, the old factory still lingering off to the southern edge of the town. It looked to be intact, as did the storage tanks. It was the reason he had been sent. While Nightingale falls was not a primary military target, and in fact was a rather minor spot on the map, there was one certainty. It was a target.
It was not up to him to determine where the great might of these heavily armored goliaths moved, his job was to simply scout out the area, disguised as a simple traveler before the onslaught came on full steam.
Passing by the old burned out factory on the right hand side of the road the car sped along the mild curves of the road. For a moment the Staff Sargent allowed himself to be distracted by the presence of a heavy flat bed transporter resting off to the side of the ruins, a bad spot to have broken down considering the tarp covered cargo. Transporters such as the ill fated heavy load bearing truck were notoriously difficult to repair in the event of a break down, and if the owner didn't get his rig moving again would simply loose his prize. Most likely the poor fellow wasn’t expecting anybody to steal it, after-all, Mech engines were not that easy to lift, not unless you had another Mech. By the looks of it, the engine was most likely a 200 series model, an underpowered yet not entirely worthless piece of equipment. And he was running out of time.
A smile creased Jason's lips as he headed out onto the straight away hugging the slope of ancient river bed. The road held less curves now as he was pinned to the road between the trees and the steep gradient. However the roadway also held a distinct advantage of allowing him an unrestricted line of sight over towards the river. The roadway also had the benefit of higher elevation, and with the imposing natural ridge, unscalable by almost any Mech, the open ground between here and river was nothing short of a killing field. It was easy to spot the infamous resort named after the falls up ahead, which meant that somewhere within the tree lined peaks was an old fortification capable of receiving dropships off to the right, that is if his intelligence reports were accurate. As far as he knew the pass between the hills led off to the old Steiner reservists station not far from an old cemetery. Although the fortification had long since been without power, the drop pads were still in working condition. Yes. That would be from where the attack would come.
He could almost see it now. A trio of dropships riding down upon pillars of blue flame to deposit their deadly cargo. Within moments Mechs would be emerging from the tree line, dropping down the slope and moving towards the town. For a moment the Mechs would disappear beneath the surface of the placid water only to erupt from it's depths to seize their objective. Victory. For a moment he could almost smell it in the air. There would not even be enough of a warning for the townsfolk for anyone to interfere with their plans. At the most, nobody would even be inconvenienced for more than an hour or so, and then the raiding Mechs would be gone, taken back up by the very ships that had brought them screaming down from the heavens. While the upper staff members frowned upon the practice, each drop ship had been given a name from their respective Captains. When stories were told they would say that “The Terror, along with the Starsweep and Nightfold” had accomplished the deed, while officially these dropships only had an alpha-numeric designation. Still the names inspired those they carried.
If the Clans had not invaded, Jason doubted that such measures would ever be undertaken. But they had, and the upper echelon had decided that such tactics were worth the risk, at least for the time being. For Jason, is was simply a job, another mission, another cause in support of his beloved House. He had sworn an oath the day his mother had died, a victim of Clan Jade Falcon's quest for glory.
Slowly the road began to turn, forming a lazy arc, bending slowly towards the left before hitting the sharper left hand curve. Passing by a billboard which read “Silver” denoting a type of popular ammunition among civilians and the military Jason remembered a rumor that another base, a supposed secret base for the Draconis Combine was said to be tucked away safely out of sight, protected by a weight sensitive gate that required over eighty tons to activate. Unfortunately his time frame for conducting this little operation didn’t allow for any sight seeing to see if an A-80 gate was indeed packed into the the back country of a ravine guarding an underground base. However if that were indeed true, so might be the rumor that an old RVM-3M lurked within the confines of the base, abandoned for years. Now that would be a prize. LRM Raven's were unusual, and yet the Draconis military had indeed used them.
Near the midpoint of an open bridge Staff Sargent Jason Alexander applied the brakes to his vehicle. The roar of the falls filling the interior of his vehicle. With a quick flip of the handle he opened the door and got out, just as any other tourist would do, without regard for anyone else inconvenienced by his actions. If anyone came along from the town, seeing a man with a camera would not be seen as out of the ordinary. The bridge stood over the top of the river, only a few meters away from the falls themselves which plummeted some hundred meters downward filling the air with a thunderous noise. Before him, Jason had the best scenic view of all. The river stretched out before him twisting slowly from one side to another, held within the caress of the rugged hills. Over the centuries it had carved out a small valley for itself, with a gentle slope leading away from the rivers edges until it hit it's old bank upon the left hand side which now was crested by a road alongside forested rocky peaks and ravines. The town of Nightingale Falls was built upon the mild slope and flats, dotted by a backdrop of steeper more imposing hillsides upon the right. Fish swarmed within the confines of the river, unable to navigate the mighty falls, trapped within the placid ribbon below that was deep enough to hide an Altas standing upright and balanced upon it's mechanical toes. Jason could almost see the attack within his mind, a full moon illuminating the river valley with lights from the town twinkling in the distance. Mech pilots wouldn't even have to use their night vision functions if they didn't want too. It was perfect.
Turning back towards his car Jason looked at the soft expanse of water being drawn out over the falls. Somewhere beneath his feet rested an undercut cave at the base of the falls, one of his many concerns. A Mech could easily hide behind that curtain of water and could remain undetected. Without a Mech of his own, the falling water made investigation into that area impossible. For a short distance the road held a straight true course right off the bridge, vanishing into the dark maw of a tunnel. Smaller Mechs could get through, but anything as tall as an Atlas would simply be held back by the imposing face of blasted away rock. In an instant the sun was gone as he plunged into the darkness, passing through the three hundred meters of rock which formed a crest along one side of the valley. Trees were everywhere. Off to the left a small turnoff with a cluster of buildings including a maintenance garage and a pair of quansiuts offered him a place to turn around.
The tunnel was comforting, unless you happened to have no where to go in the face of laser fire. It could be a death trap for the unwary. Having finished his investigation and second pass through the tunnel Jason make a right hand turn on the road featuring a large sign bearing the words Nightingale Falls. The road flowed down the mild slope, and would be somewhat of a challenge to climb. It would certainly slow a Mech down a bit, but not stop even one sporting a downsized engine. The town rose up before him amid various trees. While the basic road travel allowed for travelers to easily come and go as they pleased, the very nature of the valley in which Nightingale Falls was held meant that Mechs could only move one basic direction: clockwise.
Mechs could come down from the road, but not climb it. Which meant that any counter attack would have to come from the bridge, and the upper portion of the falls, landing the advantage of maneuver to any attacker, unless they became pinned inside the town, held against the ridge itself. A potentially dangerous scenario for even the best of pilots. They would have only one chance. Just one.
The first structure of sorts was the town theater, which boldly announced the presence of the movie titled “The Graveyard” upon it's marquee. Perhaps one day he would have time to see a movie, although horror flicks were generally not in his taste. He could all to well image the coming night for some of the pilots who may indeed feel that they were in a horror flick themselves, even if they were surrounded by tons of death dealing metal on the move. Trees as well as some of the older buildings of the resort would take on spooky, haunted appearances during the night, raising up childhood fears from deep within the depths of the mind.
Passing on by with only a second glance Jason drove into Nightgale Falls, a collection of residential resort homes upon it's outskirts. Most seemed to have a colonial appearance, adorned with pillars and exterior balconies. Coupled with the twisted branches of a few trees, some of the older tourist bed and breakfast homes might indeed look frightful under a moonlit sky. A moment later he found himself closer to the main run of the resort town, flanked by an older styled dinner from which almost forgotten music from the 1950's emanated. Some Mech pilot might even take a fancy to that old sound-spin and take it home as a souvenir. Not far away rested a small bank, dwarfed next to the clock-tower beside it. Jason smiled at the very sight of it. While anyone in town would be able to hear the towers chime at the stroke of midnight when the radio station signs off.
The freshly dropped Mechs would be listening, waiting to hear the radio station signing off for the night upon their radio receivers, which was their signal to attack.
Pressing on into the store fronts of the downtown area, the buildings were for the various pleasures and shopping excursions to meet the needs of the tourist industry. But for a Mech, these shoulder to shoulder structures offered a potential trap in which to get caught in. While they would help ward off missiles such as the notorious LRM's, Mechs pinned into this cluster of tourist traps would indeed discover another type of trap, one filled with laser and auto cannon fire. A skilled team could fight back, but pinned up, chances were not good with the surrounding available cover offered to potential foes.
Upon the distant side of Nightingale Falls Jason spotted what he had come all this way to see, the old armorer and nearby factory. Although no longer used, and forgotten, these two structures were in fact the reason why a raiding force of Mechs were preparing to move against this town, in a race against time. The armorer used to increase the survivability of a few vehicles by adding Cermaplate armor to a few vehicles, ceramic plates which could be inserted into gaps within a Mechs own armor. Another prize was within a storage tank at the old factory, Liquafoam, a type of protective foam that could be sprayed into the advanced structure of some Mechs. While originally used to prevent corrosion, it was also discovered that it prevented damage from PPC fire, at the expense of the foam itself. House Steiner was moving to acquire these assets after learning that others were now after the same prize. The only other possible landing site was within a few open spaces within the confines at the back of Nightingale falls, where defenders could come into play, or potential rivals seeking these valued commodities for themselves. Speed would be the key to victory, nothing else.
As far as he could estimate, Jason figured that it would take at least three medium Mechs to transport the Cermaplate and Liquafoam, provided of course that they had internal storage compartments and collapsible bladders. A light Mech with ECM to provide protective electronic cover. Total resources needed, one lance plus a dropship. It would also be just as easy to have a couple of trucks roll into town and just grab the materials under the cover of a work crew. But the military minds, exercising some of their under developed brilliance had decided otherwise, and had an entire triple lance worth of Mechs preparing to drop from orbit. The problem was the flow of the landscape, and the way Mechs moved. If the heavy Mechs, along with their assault counterparts crossed over the ridge-line of the ancient river bank, they would be unable to scale it should a retreat be required. For Mechs it was a death trap. The lights and mediums had enough speed to get up the hill and across the bridge before returning to the abandoned base. One assault, along with a heavy could go and “liberate” the engine from the flat bed transporter, while another pair could conceivably head off and check out the hidden base, leaving the last Mechs of the unit to stand guard. However these Mechs could then turn in a support role and offer long range fire to cover the retreating lights and mediums in the event of rival forces entering into Nightingale Falls. The town could easily turn into a battleground, and just as easily the hills surrounding the old base. It was a prospect which he did not like to think about, but one he had to consider.
The Staff Sargent turned around and drove back along side the river and towards the luxurious resort built upon the rivers edge. Perhaps one day he would come back here and relax in peaceful tranquility, enjoying all that the resort had to offer, provided that tomorrow night did not turn it and the surrounding trees into a roaring laser fire induced inferno.
