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[cmopatrick]

I have recrossed the lake to about where I stepped into it last night with Nightingale. In the dim starlight even the light amplifier doesn't show a lot, with a notable exception: up on Morlan Spire there are some bright lights moving carefully on the north side. I had intended to pass the volcano on the north, now I have to wonder if that's such a good idea.
I pull up my map and consider the alternatives. With just a hint of pride, I realize that I'm now at least able to see that further north are several sharp mountain valleys that would cut directly across my path; without jumpjets, that way would be exceptionally difficult and at best painfully slow.
The moving lights seem very deliberate, they are searching for something or I'm very much mistaken. From up there, would they see me as I passed by at the mountain's foot? Can I risk it? Is there any other alternative?
A passage from Sun Tzu comes unbidden to mind, “Speed is the essence of war: take advantage when the enemy isn't ready, make your way by unexpected routes, and attack unguarded places.” (Art of War 9:19) Somehow it seems to me that they have probably already thoroughly searched the most direct route to where we met Nightingale... maybe that is the route I need to take because it will be the least expected.
Trying to remember if there was anything else in there, I am suddenly aware that I miss the man who gave that book to me: Colonel Greer. He probably saved my life when he elevated me into Joe's old 'Mech, but I wonder how we could have saved he and the rest of the GZR. For that matter, how can I now help save not only our survivors, but those others who are now somehow depending on me?
While these things plague me, my eyes are drawn back to the map and my wandering mind comes back to task. Maybe I need to just take off headed towards the barn's remains and trust in my equipment and what skill I've gained.
“Naomi, combat diagnostics, please.”
“Diagnostics started.”
Indicators are blinking as I throttle up and swing south of the mountain. Before long, the lights have disappeared behind the naked stone of the massif.
Naomi informs me, “Combat diagnostics complete, all systems go.”
“Thanks.” I flick on the arming switches as the capacitors hum and missile silo covers retract.
Stumbling onto a dirt and gravel roadway, I can see that it's direction is towards that barn. This is a good time for a run, and I push the 3L to top speed, near 95kph. Thmmp, thmmp, thmmp, thmmp, the rhythm of the footfalls matching the rocking and swaying of the Raven's body become the not-so-subtle heartbeat of our mutual quest to remain alive.
Back and forth I swing the torso as I have observed Fatima do so many times before. BAP is on, I trust I will need to see someone else before I plow straight into them.

…..

The distance passes quickly and I am now standing at the edge of the opening where we stood early last night. Oddly enough, there seem to be mounds of debris where the downed choppers were. Is this another trap? I skirt around the clearing on the north, trying to see the exit I plan to use towards one of the escape routes.
Before I find that exit, however, I see clearly enough to note that the far chopper, the one I shot down, seems pretty much intact. I know the old saw: curiosity killed the cat... but I just have to know what might be over there.
Slowly, I come up on the hulk. It looks like there are several large slashes in it that might well have been laser fire... wounds I don't remember giving it. I walk the Raven right up next to it, all the while scanning for anything that might be out of the ordinary; neither sensors nor eyeballs seem to show anything unusual. The big laser and the missile mounts all seem to still be there, and... no, wait, the laser's housing has taken direct fire, only the long optical chamber is still intact. If I were to guess, they didn't have time to salvage the gear yet and wanted to make sure that anything expensive was saved while destroying enough to make it useless to those without spare parts... like me. The cockpit, though, does seem undamaged... I wonder if their communications gear is still intact?

Do I dare demech on the chance? What if it has been booby-trapped? Wouldn't it be a lot like having secret access to have their comm gear? Is it worth the risks?
This trip seems to have been such a disaster, maybe I need to get a breath of fresh air. I know, it's a lame excuse, but sometimes the flimsiest of reasons seem to be the only way I can make a decision.
After making sure I am facing the majority of the clearing, I order, “Naomi, please kneel the 'Mech.”
The machine moves into a parked position without any verbal comment from the ai interface.
Trying to be as careful as possible not to have any mistakes in how specific I need to be, I follow-up with, “Please alert with contact details using external audio speakers if there are any hostile contacts on sensors. Keep this order active until I am back in the seat and have reconnected the neurohelmet to the system.”
“As you wish.”
“Canopy up, please.”
I guess that will have to do. As the upper half of the Raven's cockpit rises, I have the odd sense that it has opened it's beak to disgorge me like a bad meal. I clear the neurohelm and unbuckle the harness, chuckling to myself over the strange mental image. Out onto the side rail I step, then down the hand-holds and onto the softer soil. The air outside is fresher, though I think I also smell a distant hint of a big storm storm.
I put a small led headlamp on, and after clearing my ballistic sidearm, I approach the hull. I'm not sure what I expect to find, but I rather be prepared for any wild animal or missing pilot that might be hiding within. My caution, while appropriate, is unnecessary: there is no one here and nothing has snuck in to take up residence.
The copilot's door is open and a thin layer of dust seems to cover everything near it. The array of switches and indicators seems on par with what I have in the 3L, though most of that I guess are important systems are located down the center console within easy reach of either cockpit seat.
There are two things that catch my eye: the small control panel labeled “IFF Transponder” and the fairly bulky one labeled “Sequence Communications”. Problem is, I don't have the correct tool for the fancy fasteners they use to secure things in here.

It has taken me a few minutes to realize that the crew wouldn't have tools like that on their persons, but would need to have them in the craft for minor field repairs. Sure enough, right behind the copilot's seat is a small toolbox and... I smile to myself at the thought of how prepared some crew chief wanted them to be... what must be the backup unit for the IFF Transponder block. It looks like it uses the common Star League style cannon plug for connections and power, that or I'm missing a connection point in the limited light my lamp provides.
My hope that there is a similar cache of communications gear elsewhere in here is dashed, however. The electronics bay and silent reactor are both more than I can do anything about, but I have the skill to observe that the reactor is far more compact and better arrayed than any fusion system I've ever seen, much less worked on.
A bright flash illumines the confines much better than my poor torchlight and my heart freezes with my frame... only the rapid crash of a thunderclap releases me from the unexpected terror. Yet another fear hits me, my visor is open, if it starts to rain heavily, it will be soaked and may introduce more problems. I take the IFF thing and the tools and race for my cockpit.
No rain yet. At the Raven's foot, the sky again turns momentarily day, revealing dense roiling clouds overhead. The thunderclap hits me like a punch, but I fight through the din and haul my two prizes back up to the cockpit. I don't have a lot of space in my storage bins, so I just shock cord both to the back wall and drop onto the command couch.
“Please close the canopy, Naomi,” I say and the 'Mech again seals while buckles and neurohelm find their rightful places tying me to the machine.
I must be learning, it occurs that I need to cancel the exterior speaker order, “Naomi, please call any contacts normally.”
“Contact calls now returned to normal routing.”
“Thank you,” I say, just as another huge flash illumines the cockpit.

Edited by cmopatrick, 11 May 2013 - 05:11 AM.

[cmopatrick]

I have taken the northernmost of Lloyd's routes, and by some combination of his good planning and my luck, I've passed the night without any further excitement. Well, nothing other than this storm. Twice, when stepping clear of some obstruction I have been hit by such strong winds that they have nearly knocked me over. On top of that, the lightning storm has been both beautiful and terrifying; after all, I am walking around in a large metal container that is in fairly constant contact with the ground... can you say, “Lightning Rod”? Well, I haven't been struck, but I have been nearly blinded when a monstrous trunk not fifty meters from me took a direct hit and erupted into millions of flaming pieces; the bolt was so powerful it made my skin crawl and my indicators go wild.
Now, however, I am mostly sheltered within a narrow gorge. Only half a kilometer from it's mouth, the stream that has cut this crevasse tumbles maybe eighty meters from some source above. I'm far enough away from it that the torrent plunging into it's pool threatens me only with mist. Though the tiny canyon has no roof, above it's nearly perpendicular walls towers some great forest and twists along the creek's short narrow course prevent anyone not already within a hundred meters from seeing me. I wonder at how the Ensign could know it was here, even zoomed all the way in, the map reveals none of this to me.
I power down and sit, listening to the thunder and the drumming rain. Maybe I can see just a hint of details, perhaps sunrise isn't that far off.

…..

Much diminished by the day, the storm has resigned itself to being just a whimper of last night. The greatest peril seems to be the often flooded streams and rivers, but with care I have crossed them unscathed.
I can just make out the larger forms of the terraformer's old hangars when a bolt of lightning flashes across my nose; not from the storm, but the PPC kind. My comms crackle to life, “Raven, stand and identify yourself.”
I back out of my throttle and answer, “It's just the nutcase back from our little soirée for parts.”
“Name and Rank!”
“O'Brian and either Commander or Lieutenant will do.”
The Black Knight moves from the shadow of one of the hangars and a welcoming voice says, “Hoped it was you, Commander. They're all waiting in the big bunker.”
“Thanks, Ma'am.”
“Good to see you back, sir.”

…..

“So let me get this straight, this night bird says...”
“Nightingale.”
“... yeah, whatever. So she says they are coming here in the next week or so.”
“Yup, that's about it.”
One of the Major's men clears his throat and we all look his way. “Well, maybe. We have several cells, all stronger than the one preceding it, about to slam into this area. Heck, the winter snows may start before the last ones move through.”
“And you are?” I ask.
Major Knuckner answers for him, “He is out meteorologist. Gets it right more often than not.” He smiles at the lad and the latter pretends to be annoyed.
“Fair enough. How long do you think things will be too poor for the Jade whatevers to come looking?”
“Honestly? Next spring.”

…..

One of the Waco techs is holding up a tool, “This sure looks like an old Star League torx socket. I've worked on some of those ancient 'Mechs and these things were standardized across the entire military force. But these things are brand spanking new, probably never used.”
I nod, trying to piece together what that might mean about our enemies.
Sonya, meanwhile, has been going over the IFF unit itself, with Anne also very interested. “Commander?” she asks.
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
“I think I understand the differences in these from ours. Got an idea, too.”
“Fire away.”
“Ok, there are four parts to the main transponder that represent four transmitting frequencies. Without knowing the given code for a day or mission, I can't duplicate their transmissions enough to hide one of our 'Mechs in plain sight, but I might be able to build a jammer out of this that would keep an enemy unit from identifying you at all.

Edited by cmopatrick, 15 May 2013 - 09:26 PM.

[cmopatrick]

I am sitting with Major Knuckner, Fatima, Nanako, and several of the Winfield techs in what appears to be a communications control vehicle.
One of the techs is speaking, “... and when we added the VT741 and the twin AM6000s, we were live at five.”
The Major looks at me and asks, “Did you get that, Commander?”
“I have no clue at all what he just said, but I could take a nap about now.”
While the techs look puzzled, everyone else laughs. The Major offers, “They have upgraded our comm equipment to allow us to send and receive voice and data across the planet. With the transcoder, we should also be able to try to contact our own satellites and begin to probe theirs.”
“Oh. Cool.”
“Try to get Nightingale,” Fatima suggests.
“Oh, we had her already,” one of the younger techs replies as if this were old news.
“Anything since two days ago?”
“Yeah, had one just before dawn this morning, any part you want to hear?”
“Anything about an angel?”
He looks a bit uncertain, then says, “No, don't think...”
“Yeah there was, Bobby, remember? That bit about hurrying to heaven or some such cr-ap.”
“Oh, yeah, about seven minutes in.” Looking at me he says, “Hang on a minute, we'll get it for you.”
The second of the two already had one earpiece of a headphone pressed agains his right ear as he does what I guess is scrolling. “Got it,” he announces with a grin, and flicking a switch he lets us hear it on the console speakers.
“... to see the sea. Break. For my friend and protector Angel, look to the skies and head to heaven. The light comes too soon to stay bound to your temporal abode. Flee from the sins of the unclean before tomorrow passes. Break. For The Hoppers...”
“That's all I need, thanks.” The playback stops and I continue, “If there are any more messages for Angel, please let me know about them right away.”
“Angel?!” Fatima asks as the tech nods confirming that he'll let me know.
“She picked it, wouldn't hear of my changing it,” I answer. “She asked what my call-sign was and I didn't know, so she said mine is 'Angel' since I rescued her and got her away safely from both ambushes.”
“If she only knew you,” Fatima laughs and the Major joins in.
I roll my eyes and agree, “I told her as much, but she insisted and I didn't have a defense. Do you have a call-sign?” I ask the Lieutenant.
“Of course, though the GZR never used it. I am 'Shabah', in English, that is 'Ghost'.”
Without being asked, Nanako offers, “I'm 'Tachi', it is an ancient type of sword. I've never used an English version.” At this last, she shrugs disinterestedly.
Major Knuckner laughs when I look his way, “I'm with the tread heads, unit names and designators only... Angel.”
The three of them get a good chuckle at this and I fear I have unintentionally made it stick.

The amusement dies as Nanako asks, “So, what did all that stuff mean?”
My brow furrows as I say, “Nightingale said they were going to be coming in a week or so, maybe she means it has been moved up to tomorrow or the next day.”
“Not good,” The Major comments and Fatima nods in agreement. He continues, “They will certainly have a sat tasked on the location. Even with cloud cover, there isn't enough shelter between here and the next good hiding place for us to move. They would take us in the open and it would be all over.”
“Well, if we can't run away, can we actually defend this place?” I pose.
“Probably not,” Fatima states. “Would be too easy to trap us in here.”
“I'm not so sure,” Nanako opines. “We found a set of tunnels at the north end that come out beyond the river, but the far ends are very well hidden. I bet we could make a go of it and run away if needed.”
I try to remember the Sun Tzu book; what would it advise?
The Major is way ahead of me, “I bet we have enough gel and munitions to make them think this place is just one giant booby-trap. We deliberately make tracks into every building and lay trip wires, fixed small arms, IEDs, and mines along each. As each kill zone is found, most likely some of them the hard way, their commanders will become warier and warier... soon, the whole place will look like its just one big trap. We lay the mouth of this bunker with automated things the exact same way. But we remain, hidden powered down at the far ends,” here he gestures towards the long dark reaches of our underground complex. “Then they might not be able to detect us and give up. Maybe they collapse the entry, maybe not. We might even knock out some of their gear.”
Fatima nods, “This is a good location, if they think they have searched it, they might assume they don't need to come back.”
Major Knuckner nods, too, and I admit, “I like it. What do we do?”

…..

We have done all we can. Yesterday and all of last night, we dug and hid and pointed and placed. Even last night's downpour may have helped, all the tracks and marks of activity have been softened but not erased. Lasers, gel, and ballistic toys of various caliber are all ready to provide a welcome rather warmer than the empty hangars and bunkers are worth. It should feel like a giant setup, nothing more or less at our bunker's entrance. We've swept the floor plates and concrete within a klick of the ramp, no real signs of our host recently having bivouacked here remain. We did leave remains of a small bonfire, but they too are booby-trapped.
A small red light, sheltered from anything other than ourselves, blinks on and off in front of us. One of the sensors that indicates hostile contact has alerted and Major Knuckner in our bus has lit the visual signal that we all need to mount up.
I climb through the small rear service entrance and sit into the command couch. Pulling my harness across my chest in the inky blackness, seating my neurohelm, adjusting the cooling hose connections where I inadvertently sat on one... until there is nothing left to do but wait.

It has been an hour. It felt at times like there might have been a couple of distant explosions, but then again, just sitting here might be making me imagine it.
Two little red lights blink. Ten seconds pass and they go out. The enemy is close to our bunker.
“Naomi, are we ready to emergency power up?”
“Yes, ready and waiting, sir.”
There is a sudden flash at the ramp's mouth. Another follows it rapidly. I wish I could zoom in and see what is happening, but dare not start my Raven up prematurely.
Surely that is laser fire, from the inside towards the ramp. More explosions. Close at hand, three little red lights blink once, twice, and a third time... they are inside. Even at this distance, I can see bright lights slicing at everything. There is a huge explosion, they have detonated the bonfire... and I have no idea if they have casualties.
From the mouth, a huge searchlight shines in, trying to reach the distant walls and pretty much failing. We trust to the camouflage between us to make visual detection difficult and indeed, the beacon does not linger or even slow as it passes us. When it goes out, I have to wonder... will they come and see that we are here?

Edited by cmopatrick, 17 May 2013 - 10:09 PM.