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[cmopatrick]

There they are! Dust and debris rises as they sprint mostly off the road through the pastures and fields. They seem to be really moving quickly, too.
The Night Hawk's twin large lasers reach out at a low running 'Mech with a huge laser on it's back just as that 'Mech opens fire on the Captain. A bare moment later, the BK returns the favor and something on what must be the Hussar flashes and begins to pump billows of smoke out to stream along behind it. Not in range yet, well, now I am and I track to hit it with the pulse. I can't see that I did any damage, but there is a lot of red on the status display.
An enemy 'Mech speeds past me, almost under my cockpit, startling me and I loose track of the Hussar.
BAMM! BAMM! I just got hit by something, the plate serving as my useless left arm is showering fragments across my vision and armor from my nose seems to be flying by also. The gyro's spin up a bit and I have to really resist the temptation to turn to follow the bogey.
At that moment, I hear a question in my memory and remember the Colonel's intense stare as he asked, “Can you follow orders?”
I stay on Nanako's flank and focus again just in time to see the Hussar pilot eject and the 'Mech collapse nose forward, flames and smoke billowing from something.
BAMM! BAMM!
This one is fast and I'm showing red on my right torso all of a sudden.
“That's the Commando.” Nanako sounds so calm. “Thank it for your damage.”
I turn towards where is was and see it making a tight turn back. My LPL slashes it but my missile salvo misses completely. Twin larges reach out from the 2q and track it surprisingly well for such a fast little target.

“Help me!” Sonya's terrified desperate cry suddenly pleads.
“Stick to your targets, I got her,” Captain Urso states calmly.
“Lead the missiles on the Commando by twice the reticule as he comes back, then LPL when aligned,” Commander Tetsuhara coaches me.
It surprises me that doing what she has said means the little pain runs directly into the salvo of six, raised arms suddenly sagging as the blasts stagger it, leaving a lot of blackened red torso for me to drop the LPL onto. The stuttering pulse of light dashes out into that chest before the 'Mech fully regains either it's balance or full speed. Something explodes within, bright electric arcs flashing out through a suddenly dense oily blackness. It's arm comes up too late and it's missiles remain in their tubes as another pilot leaves a falling 'Mech.
“Remember to dance while fighting,” the Commander speaks again on our sub. “Straight lines and slowing down are bad.”
She is right. We are turning back to where Sonya is running around the Black Knight trying to evade an equally tiny 'Mech in hot pursuit. Suddenly, her 'Mech jumps high into the air and the enemy slows trying to track her flight. The Black Knight has not been able to keep up with the speeding circles, but our 2q and 2x pairing has raced into range and we open fire. My pulse slashes mostly dirt, but I get some leg, too. Nanako also lays lasers across it's somewhat narrow back, burning wide glowing lines deep into the armor. Now the hunter knows he is the prey; as we recharge and close he pivots, trying to twist out from under our combined interest. He has but a moment of success, then darts straight into an alpha from the Black Knight. I almost pity the pilot, but whomever probably never felt a thing as so much power from many lasers and the ErPPC envelope the torso and cockpit. There is no eject from the slag pile with legs as it tumbles into the dirty brown muck of a well churned field.
“Evasive! Air inbound!” The Captain calls.
“Scatter!” is Nanako's order and I spin away from her just as I hear a tone and see the missile lock indicator flash. I spin to try to distribute the damage and dance as fast as I can towards cover. My right arm shudders as something blasts it and the whole 'Mech bucks against the force of the explosion. My equipment is gone there, no value left, but I'm still up and running for a stand of trees 200 meters ahead.
I hear explosions behind me but the trees are getting close and I dare not take my eyes off them to look back.
“Neutralized. Regroup.”
I slow, turn back and then sprint to rejoin the other three. The spider has lost a lot of armor and looks horrible, the Night Hawk and Black Knight both have superficial damage, and I seem to have lost both arms and have paper thin armor on my nose and right torso. Still, we haven't lost anyone yet and they are down four 'Mechs and some number of aircraft.
“Listen up, team: we need to take an evasive approach to stall until we can figure out a way to shake the dropship's surveillance. Until then, we are in danger if the other lances catch up. Good work, by the way, everyone. Ok, Resume radio silence.”

…..

We are running along to the right of the road still four together, though there is more of a gap between the Captain and Commander. I can't help but feel this is a useless gesture; if we have someone tracking us from space, how will we ever get away?
As if to punctuate the thought, Naomi reports, “Sub-orbital sequence active again.”
“Thank you.”
“There is also an odd signal on the general planetary satellite channels.”
“Odd how?”
“Uncommon.”
I think for a moment, then wonder what it sounds like. “Can I hear it?”
“I show no record that human ears can receive satellite signals.”
For a moment, I’m torn between wanting to punch the stupid thing and accepting her analysis. Then it occurs to ask another question, “is there a broadcast component to the signal that might be in a language a human might understand?”
“Of course. It seems to be repeating a few short sentences.”
“May I hear that?”
“Are you asking me to play the broadcast?”
I so want to hurt her. “Yes, please.”
“From the beginning of the loop or at it's present position?”
My temper fails and I all but scream, “PLAY THE DAMNED THING!”
Intruding on our conversation before Naomi can start, our comms go hot and Fatima states, “Whatever you did is working, all four lances are turning back towards Terrino.”
Naomi begins the broadcast:
“All Combat Units! This is Planetary Command to All Combat Units including any and all Mercenaries! We have four unidentified military dropships landing at the capitol spaceport! We detect a large contingent of naval vessels in and entering orbit! We have also lost HPG communications outside of the system! All contracts and criminal warrants are hereby rescinded for combat units responding for our defense, compensation will be twice normal emergency defense rates! This is NOT a drill!”
I break radio silence as we continue running north, “did anyone else get that broadcast?”
“I don't think she broadcast it, it was on our sequence.”
“No, the one about an attack on the capitol?”
“What?!”
“General planetary satellite channels or something like that. I can play it back if you rather.”
The comms stay silent and I wonder if I should have spoken up.
“We head directly for the rendezvous. Scout, head directly for rendezvous as well.” It is the quietest I have yet heard the Captain speak, I almost miss her words in the noise of my running 'Mech.
We pivot and there is no longer any obvious attempt to evade detection. What could possibly make us take such a risk?

Edited by cmopatrick, 02 March 2013 - 10:54 PM.

[cmopatrick]

“I have an unencrypted broadcast from almost overhead,” Naomi announces as we pound along.
“Please play it.”
“Mayday! Mayday! This is dropship Mustang II! We have been attacked by unrecognized naval units and are going down! Expected Impact near 57degrees 14minutes North by 115degrees 17minutes West. Crew attempting to bail out! Any and all assistance requested! Hell, we're even asking for help from you Dragoon Bast-ards running away down there.”
As we thunder along, there is a click on our comms, one has gone hot, but I sure can't hear what they are saying. Well, unless they are not talking.
Nanako finally speaks, I would guess she is the one who keyed the sequence open. “I have a distress call from a dropship. I would guess it is the one that launched those four 'Mechs at us.”
“Yes, I know,” Captain Urso replies. “We can do nothing for them right now without endangering ourselves and our own survivors.”
“What is going on, Captain?” I ask quietly.
“I have no time to explain. We need to get to rendezvous ASAP. If we are seen, we will be in very great danger. Maybe we can risk coming back to help them later, but not right now.”

…..

In the relative silence as we speed along, I ask Naomi, “Are there any changes to the communications on the general frequencies?”
“Yes, there are.”
“May I hear them?”
“Yes, of course.”
A cacophony of sounds and voices assaults my ears like a thunderclap, and I realize she is playing all of them at once. “ONE AT A TIME!” I yell at her.
“As you wish.”
“... of Winfield's Regiment. With planetary militia, we are holding the invaders on their LZ at the capitol's spaceport. We require all operable combat units to respond to assist. Mercenaries will be compensated appropriate to service. This is Lt. Commander Janis Haalrich, communications officer of Winfield's Regiment, With...”
“Next, please.”
Not only the next, but the following three sound like they are small militia units issuing orders and providing information while in combat. The second one seems to have what can only be a novice spotter struggling to find words to describe his targets: “I've never seen these 'Mechs before, and their firepower seems twice what our units have. And I thought there were squads of tiny 'Mechs running about, but instead they appear to be some kind of individual armor with jump jets and fairly strong weapons, too.”
I move on from that one after a while of trying to make sense of it.
Then comes, “... further notice. This is Winfield Civil Defense. The planet is under attack from a strong force of unidentified invaders. Proceed to you assigned shelters, especially those outside of urban areas if possible. Warning, this does not appear to be a pirate raid, the aggressors are well armed and have extreme firepower. Take emergency supplies and expect to remain in shelter until further notice. This is...”
“Next, please.”
“...Units! This is Planetary Command to All Combat Units including any...”
“Sounds like the first one you played for me a while ago.”
“It is the same broadcast.”
“Ok, then next please.”
“The rest are sequenced.”
“Thanks, that is enough.”

…..

It's an incredible relief to see the massive structures, some like aircraft hangers seem made of steel and sheet metal, others resemble artificial mountains of stone and concrete, most with some vegetation attempting to reclaim the spaces on top. Great causeways of pavement fight with swaths of grasses and smaller trees to dominate the spaces between the giant buildings.
It is at the doorway into the lowest and broadest of the giant buildings that I see the most welcome sight: our duce and a half with what looks like a couple of miniguns jury rigged into freshly fabbed mounts on her back. Around it are several of our small band, rather excitedly jumping up and down.
The comms go hot and Captain Urso orders, “That ramp looks like it can accommodate the three of you. Get under cover inside, I will park in the hangar across the way.”
Unexpectedly, Master Wolte keys up to reply, “I measured the height, you should clear by a meter and a half, Captain. It only looks small because of the size of this structure.”
“Aff.”
“Captain?” Hanse sounds taken aback.
“It does not matter anymore, Master Wolte. We are ourselves now.”

…..

Once inside, I can see that there is a powersource in use somewhere, but only a fraction of the available space is actually lit; the rest is visible only in night vision and even then the most distant reaches still seem shadowy.
Our vehicles are all parked fairly close to the ramp, with some supplies and containers out and scattered about.
We each demech and are greeted with mostly cheers. Sonya falls on her knees and kisses the concrete. Captain Urso seems singularly focused, she walks past all of us directly to Master Wolte. He wears a concern that does not lessen with her approach.
With words spoken too quietly to hear, Captain Urso leans close to Master Wolte's ear and communicates some serious news.
I hear a gasp and look more closely.
Master Wolte is so pale and still that for a moment I think he must be having a heart attack. Whatever Captain Urso just whispered to him, it must be so much worse than horrible that I can not imagine what it could be.
Finally, he breaks his stillness and I just barely hear him reply with a question of his own, “Do we know which Clan?”
She shakes her head and he is again deathly still.

[cmopatrick]

“Captain, may I at least go out with a vehicle and see if any of them are alive to rescue?”
Captain Urso is sitting listlessly on a crate of armor plate. If she has heard anything I've said in the last few minutes, she must think my questions and ideas insignificant at best.
I look around and hold up my hands towards the rest in a gesture of futility and surrender. I turn back to her, wondering where the powerful Captain has gone to leave us with this shell.
She stares out into the blackness where our paltry lights dare not penetrate, “Dezgra. Forever savashri dezgra.”
Master Wolte strides up; I get the impression he has not only been listening, but disapproves of the Captains behavior. “Captain. Your input is needed or I will have Commander Tetsuhara declare you temporarily unfit and relieve you of command.”
At this she looks up, reminding me most in expression, though not temperament, to Joe when he was wasted. “Commander O'Brian has command for whatever good that will do.”
Hanse is frustrated and it shows, “Captain!”
“You are dismissed, Tech Wolte.”
She could have slapped him and not gotten as much anger, nay, rage from Master Wolte. He looks at me and with a deadly tone says, “You have command, don't screw it up.” Now he stalks away, looking for all the worlds like crossing him would mean certain evisceration.

…..

Walking back towards our vehicles, I try to sort through our options.
Nanako has been standing within earshot and now walks over to join me. “Orders, Commander?”
“Commander, do you know what a 'Clan' might be?”
“No. You mean like a tribe? Is that what we are up against?”
“I don't know, I just overheard the term and figured I would ask you.”
“Sorry, no help here.”
“Ok, I think we need to do two things right now. First, we should try to rescue any of that crew that bailed out. There are too few of us and maybe the enemy of my enemy is my friend, at least for a while. Second, if we have even a small chance to salvage any of those 'Mechs we killed today, don't you think we should try?”
“I agree. But how will we know we can risk it?”
“Well, we need to keep the 'Mechs safe, and for right now, I think this is a good location.”
“Yes, at least for now.”
“Fairuz seems to have some good communications gear on her six-by, she can listen for changes in the situation at the capitol.”
“Agreed.”
“I propose taking out the duce and Anne in the lowboy with Lieutenant Al-Zafirah in the 3L to cover us with her... um...”
“ECM.”
“Yeah, ECM. We can make for any distress signals near where they expected to go down. Any salvage can be grabbed also.”
“They won't have any more 'Mechs there, or they would have launched them at us with the others.”
“Good point. Wouldn't they have other stuff, though?”
“They might. But there are three probably salvageable 'Mechs that we dropped today that are certainly out there where we left them.”
“Do you think we can get pilots for them?”
“We might need them for ourselves.”
“Oh, good point.”
We are quiet while I try to turn all this over in my head.
“Ok, I'll ask Master Wolte if he can go in the Land Train with Anne after the salvage 'Mechs, and ask Lt. Al-Zafirah to cover them. I'll take the duce and see if I can't find survivors. You and Sonya stay here near your 'Mechs in case I have problems I can't handle.”
“Take Sonya with you. You would need someone to operate the miniguns if the need arises, and besides, even if that Spider were fully repaired and ready to walk, I doubt you could get Lt. Tavares back into it right now.”
I remember Sonya kissing the paving and have to agree, “Yeah, I guess you're right.”

…..

Fairuz is incensed. “They can monitor from the other rigs and they might need the miniguns here to protect our stash. My six-by can get places the duce can't and I know my way around if I have to take evasive action and lay low before coming back.”
“I'm not risking you going out on your own.”
“Then come with me, but I'm not staying here to play radio station host.”
“Now you are telling me what you're going to do? After I stuck my neck out so you could come along?” My tone belies the fact that I'm starting to let my frustrations bubble up.
“Commander. Anger?” Master Wolte says with some amount of correction in his tone.
Unfortunately, I was there when he lost if with the Captain, “Excuse, me. Do you mean like the example you set when the Captain pis-sed you off?”
For a moment, I think he will get up to fight me, then he settles and says, “You should lead by example... but you are right, my own actions have stripped me of the moral authority to correct you. I apologize, Commander.”
Somehow, I feel disarmed of my own anger. “Accepted, Master Wolte. And you're right, I shouldn't have said that. Please forgive my outburst.”
“Done, Commander.”
I look back at Fairuz and realize that if I drop my pride down a notch or two, it's obvious that she is correct.
Everyone is silent, I'm not sure what the right way to go about this is. They are all looking at me. Well, except the Captain, who is still sitting on her crate at the distant edge of the lampglow.
“Ok, I still would like the three of you to go after any of those 'Mechs that we might be able to salvage. Don't go later than you will have time to get back an hour before dawn, though, Ok?”
Fatima and Hanse both nod and I think Anne has done so as well.
“Commander, I would like you and Sonya to defend our little hideout, but if we need help, I want you and the Night Hawk to attempt to assist. Sonya, I want you to remain here and keep those miniguns ready to spin up. Ensign, I really need you to pour over those maps and see if you can find anything better.”
They nod.
“If the Captain comes back to us, please brief her and let her know she can have the command back as soon as we return.”
“And you and I will go try to save a few survivors.” These last words are directed to Fairuz, who is smiling ear to ear and seems not only ready, but eager for this adventure.

Edited by cmopatrick, 05 March 2013 - 10:04 PM.

[cmopatrick]

At the edge of a rather large debris field, there is something that looks distantly akin to a lean-to crossed with a junk-yard. Some of the panels that form walls and maybe one in the roof look like 'Mech bay partition walls, there are chunks of scrap metal, and what could easily be plates of 'Mech armor.
Fairuz plays the six-by's spotlight across the width of it. I don't really feel safe trying to dismount to check it out, even with my sidearm.
“Is there a PA in this?” I ask her.
She reaches for a microphone on a quaint cord and sets something on one of the comms. “Ok, you can say whatever.”
“Is there anyone here? We don't want to steal your stuff, just want to know if you still need help.”
Two pair of eyes peer around the right side of the makeshift structure.

…..

“I'm not sure we can get all of them back at once,” I tell Ms. Abboud. “If we can't convince them to let us take the two wounded back first, I'm not sure we should help them, at least not without Lt. Tetsuhara backing us up in the Night Hawk.”
“You seem pretty suspicious.”
“Yeah, but their unit tried to annihilate us, I think we need to be careful.”
She bounces her head with that “yeah, I guess” look and says, “Ok. You are in command, so I'll do it that way if you want.”
We walk back closer to the four huddled around their small fire.
“Ok, here's the drill: we can only take two of you right now, and I think it should be you two,” I say while pointing at the badly wounded pair. “We will come back for the both of you afterwards.”

…..

Steve and Bob are both sedated at Nanako's orders. From their gear, I would guess they are techs, but I have no real way of verifying that.
I watch Commander Tetsuhara finish her medical duties and see her walking towards me.
Suddenly, I think we both feel the distant thmp of a 'Mech footfall; our eyes meet, then dart to the doorway.
“Sonya!” Nanako hisses, interrupting whatever reverie Lt. Tavares has let her mind wander into.
She looks up and asks, “Yeah?”
“Mech coming.”
“Oh!” Up the Lieutenant jumps, making a beeline for the miniguns and their platform on the duce. Turning, I realize that Commander Tetsuhara has already reached the Night Hawk and is climbing to the cockpit.
Before I can decide if I should get into the 2x, a loud semi horn sounds a couple of times and moments later our Land Train rolls into our little hole in the ground. The 3L tromps in only a little behind her.
I'm not entirely sure what 'Mech's remains are on the lowboy, but it is a welcome sight... well, it and our teammates safe and sound.

…..

It finally dawns on me that the Spider is missing. Nanako and Sonya are standing here with us... “Where is Captain Urso?” I ask.
Sonya seems suddenly interested in her boots. Nanako shifts and looks like she is working up to saying something she thinks I will not like. I note that the rest of our team is looking around, puzzled looks growing across their faces.
I ask a second question, “Is she perhaps out with the Spider?”
Sonya's fingernails have become fascinating enough that she can't take her eyes off of them.
Nanako, however, finally looks up at me and says, “She took the Spider. She said she will regain her honor in combat... or die in the attempt. We tried to talk her out of it, but she was determined. I thought she might take the Black Knight, but she said she would not regain her honor fighting with a 'charity' 'Mech. The Spider had still been ours when we joined up with your team, the BK you gave her. Somehow she thought that was charity.”
“Or...” Master Wolte speaks up, “she wanted to take our most wounded 'Mech so she could either die quickly or erase the sense that she is dezgra by fighting against even greater odds.”
I look back and forth between the two of them. There is something behind Master Wolte's words that I don't quite understand. “Does this have something to do with the Tribes?” I ask.
“The what?”
Oooops, wrong word. “Sorry, the Clans.”
Now it's Master Wolte's turn to look like he doesn't want to say more than he absolutely has to. “Perhaps. This would take time to explain. Can we talk later?”
I guess right now he is right, we do have other things to accomplish before dawn. I simply nod and ask, “Do you think she'll reconsider and come back?
“No,” Hanse says with a finality and after a moment of thought, Nanako nods in agreement.

…..

We have retrieved the remaining salvage 'Mechs, along with both the other survivors from the Mustang II crash site. In addition, our salvage crew returned with one more survivor: the pilot from the Commando that I helped give an eject ride to. Master Wolte offered her a ride without saying whom he represented and Anne Seems to have been a good sport to listen to the woman prattle on as they drove back.
However, on discovering who we are, she has become both rather bold and defiant, “If I'm a prisoner, you won't get anything out of me. You Wolf's Dragoon bas tards deserve no mercy and whatever happens to you, ya'll got it comin' to ya.”
I'm about to remind her of the situation we are in when Nanako speaks up, “what did the Dragoons do that was so evil?”
“As if you didn't know,” she snorts.
“I don't. I was never a Dragoon, though I did rescue one in repayment of a kindness their leader did for my father. The unit I became part of has never been affiliated with them, and none of our pilots still here was either.”
The woman looks around, seeming to realize that with one exception we are all probably no older than she, and many are younger. Of course, she does zero in on Hanse, “What about him? Was he one?”
“Yes, I was,” he answers. “And I was with them from the beginning...”
“HA!” she interrupts, “see...”
“I'm a tech. Not a pilot. And I'm the only one here even close to that age. But you are not old enough either, now are you?”
She slows her gestures and looks about.
Maybe it is my turn to speak up, “look we rescued you not to pick a fight, but to get you out of the bush. You still have you weapon and your kit, you are free to go.”
“Think you can get off that easily, huh? You got another think comin', bud.”
“Off of what?”
“I'm killin' every last one of you.”
“Even your own we rescued tonight?” I query while pointing to the two injured and two sitting against the wall.
“What?!” She stomps over to see the four and both the conscious ones talk quietly with her. The tough exterior melts and Nanako goes to stand with her and brief her on each of their status.
When she finally returns, she looks at me, and perhaps at the others, too. “You know who we are and you aided us anyway?”
“Yes, Ma'am.”
She is quiet, I wonder what she is thinking when she finally replies, “So what do you propose?”
“Well, right now we have four 'Mechs and enough salvage that maybe our guru's can put something together for another one or two...”
She interrupts, “Our techs are wizards at making old stuff work, and three or those four over there are among the best.”
I smile and continue, “we don't have enough pilots for what we have right now. We have an agreement between our two units that we will work as one unit until we can reach a hiring hall, then we are free to go our own ways. You would be welcome to join under the same terms.”
Our people nod and she looks us over. “Kind of a motley lot we'd make.”
“Yeah, but it could be worse.”
“What are you calling this little band?”
I am about to say we are the GZR, but then the Captain's name comes to mind and if ever it fits, it is for us. I answer, “we are the 'Return of the Fallen'... we have each lost much, but together, we will return.”
“I like it. I'm Abigail Masterson, my friends call me Abbie, but don't even think of callin' me Abbie Normal; I'll kill whoever says that the moment I hear it.”
“Worse than getting a paper cut and having lemon juice poured on it?”
“Much,” she says, but her smile reflects that she has gotten my allusion just as I have gotten hers.

Edited by cmopatrick, 09 March 2013 - 04:27 PM.

[cmopatrick]

The broadcast is terse and unequivocal.
“Winfield is liberated! This planet is now under the direct military governance of Clan Jade Falcon's Fifth Battle Cluster. The weak regiment of your oppressors is withdrawing from Winfield in utter defeat, the militia your taskmasters held over you is broken and you have no reason to resist us. In the interest of preserving your liberty, we expect all units or persons with military capabilities to unequivocally surrender immediately, and all common citizens to assist us in rooting out any vestiges of your oppressors. We will communicate more in the days to come as we assist you in setting up a more pure government. Again, planet Winfield is Liberated! Thanks be to the heroes of Clan Jade Falcon!”
Fairuz closes the channel and walks back over to sit down a foot or two to my left. Hanse clears his throat, then spits loudly. We all seem to be stunned or confused... or both.
The whole group is sitting, or in the case of our invalids lying, around a warm friendly fire. The roof overhead keeps the stars at bay, but otherwise we might easily be camping on some stony mountain. We have eaten from our stores and with Lloyd and Abbie teaming up to do the cooking it was actually pretty good. The smells from the fragrant foods have all fled away, but the scent of burning juniper clings to our clothing and even the stones around us.
“Well, I guess it's time to answer your question, Commander.” Hanse is looking directly at me from his seat almost directly across the crackling fire.
“Go ahead, Master Wolte.”
“The Clans are descendants of the great SLDF armada that Aleksandr Kerensky lead out of the Inner Sphere about two hundred and fifty years ago. Clan society is centered around martial prowess, and has always been focused on returning to the Inner Sphere with a form of salvation based on their understanding of the Star League. There are many Clans, Jade Falcon is a very martial one.”
“So,” I ask, “Is there one that had something to do with a bear?”
Hanse smiles, “very insightful, Commander. Yes, Clan Ghost Bear.”
I nod. “Please continue.”
“Captain Urso and I were both Ghost Bears, she from the Warrior Caste and I from the tech caste. By the way, she adopted the name 'Urso' after she got to the Wolf's Dragoons. It means 'bear' in some language or another. She was not a Bloodnamed Warrior.”
Lt. Al-Zafirah takes advantage of a pause to ask, “so, how does that apply to the Wolf's Dragoons? Did some of you sneak into it?”
Master Wolte laughs, then with a large smile answers, “No, Lieutenant, Wolf's Dragoons was formed by and until 3020 completely equipped and populated by the Clans.”
I think everyone present and halfway conscious just gasped.
Abbie chimes in, seeming to grasp the situation faster than we have, “Why are you not with the Dragoons now?”
“Two things, our sundering and Misery.”
“I'm not a warrior,” Fairuz speaks up and asks, “so please forgive my not knowing what all that means.”

“In 3020, Kerlin Ward, Clan Wolf's Khan, instructed our leadership who were from Wolf to cut off ties with the Clans. We never knew exactly what those orders were, but they erased all of the information on our homes from the databanks, including how to return. I've heard the Black Widow herself and the brothers Wolf knew, but we didn't. When we found out, our dreams of going home heroes died. Our leaders had broken their rede... those of us who never wanted to stay called it our 'sundering' and never forgot.”
We all seem to hang on his words. I don't know what half of it really means, but what I do understand is they were somehow betrayed. Judging by the expressions of those around me, the others also feel the same.
“The other is the planet Misery. We met the Snakes there in...”
When he says “Snakes” I hear Commander Tetsuhara take a sharp breath of displeasure and a quick glance at her face while he continues shows something bordering on anger.
“...the most horrible battle. I was with Zeta, responsible for the Colonel's 'Mech and on the hot team for his command lance. We were overrun while I was in field and the 'Mech killed... but the Colonel and I were on the ground and either fortunate or too cursed. We were trapped underneath... in a hole left by an assault footpad. We had broken bones, but the toppled 'Mech meant their infantry missed us. When we dug ourselves out, we were temporarily behind Snake lines and found shelter away from the 'Mechs... we figured they would be back to salvage them. We wound up in a small cave with another wounded Zeta, you folks from the GZR already know Captain Howard. He was really a mess with a lot of blood lost. Two more pilots eventually found us from Epsilon, and again one of them was our Captain Stevens.”
Abbie interrupts while looking around, “I thought you said you didn't have any Dragoon pilots left.”
“Colonel Greer and both Captains were butchered by you Wacos. They...” here he gestures at Fatima and myself while appearing to get a bit irritated, “... saw the crushed eject's you bas-tards chose to step on.”
“They deserved it,” she snaps back.
“And you didn't?” Now he is getting hot.
I rise and note that Nanako is doing so, too. “Hold!” she orders and both of them look first at her and then me.
“Ok, that's enough. If you're going to want to cause trouble,” here I turn to address pilot Masterson, “then we will get you out of here to some place safe that you can move on from.”
She looks like she has been slapped and seems about to retort but I turn to Hanse and say, “Master Wolte, you know how much I respect you. Please refrain from letting things get to you. We need your strength and character now more than ever.”
He looks at me like he has never seen me, and I can't tell if that is good or bad. Maybe the best thing to do is stop the history lesson and deal with the present again.
“We have a common enemy, these Green Falcons, right?”
“Jade,” Master Wolte corrects, “Jade Falcons.”
“Sorry, Jade Falcons. Can't we stick together long enough to get away or at least improve our chances to survive?”
“Let your CO decide that, boy.” Abbie looks like she wants to say more, but every one of our personnel are on their feet and look ready for a fight.
Rather quietly, Anne says, “Commander O'Brian IS our CO. We're good with what he says.”
Even Commander Tetsuhara nods at this and Abigail Masterson sits thunderstruck, her mouth still open from whatever she was about to say.
“He's the one your other Wacos owe their lives to,” Fairuz adds. “He is the one who wanted to go back to offer help.”
Abbie stands, an odd look crosses her face, departing into what might be anger. Now she seems to think better of it and the odd look returns. “Beggin' your pardon, Commander. I guess you're right. If the Mustang had survived, she would have come for us. I don't know what happened to our other lances, but they were en route to engage at the capitol... I have to wonder if they have made it. I'll try to fit in if ya'll will work with me. Jus' gonna take some gettin' used to.”

Edited by cmopatrick, 11 March 2013 - 05:00 AM.

[cmopatrick]

“Commander, you were in a heavier 'Mech before, right?”
As she looks at me, I almost feel Commander Tetsuhara and I are on the same page; her answer confirms it, “Yes. You want me to move to the Black Knight, correct?”
I smile and we are both nodding as I say, “Yes, Ma'am.”
“I was hoping you would think that wise, the Night Hawk is a little small for my tastes. You should move back into it, though. It wouldn't do to have you in a weaker 'Mech if we wind up finding more of the Rangers.”
“Yup. Let's do it, then.”
“I would like to run some training drills; I want to be familiar with the 'Mech before I run it live and if we do it together, it would help build a team familiarity. Are you game for that?”
I chuckle, “I was wondering how I could ask if you would do that. Yeah, I'm all in, and I'll check with Lieutenant Al-Zafirah and Pilot Masterson.”
“You know, if you are going to integrate her into our structure, you need to make her a Lieutenant. Calling her a Pilot like that might leave her feeling that she is still an outsider.”
I guess that makes sense. “Let me talk with her about it, but I think you're right.”
As we stand here amid our tiny 'Mech stable, she looks up at the Black Knight and I think I see a tear in her eye.
“Are you Ok, Commander?”
I think she stiffens a bit at the word “commander” so I follow with, “Nanako?”
A thin smile breaks her face, and unexpectedly a pain replaces it. “She left me here. She was my only friend for so long... none of the others ever really understood what we went through together. I had believed that I could not have had a sister closer. But I never knew about this Clan family she held so great a loyalty to... I guess she never really trusted me at all.”
I wish I knew how to help, but I feel clueless... guess I don't really even understand. In the end, all I can do is stand here in the quiet as glistening rivulets stream down her delicate cheeks.

…..

“Well, if the other two pilots survived, will you be able to contact them? We might be able to get enough 'Mechs operational to give them each a ride.”
“You're pretty trusting.”
“How do you figure that?”
“We could get the drop on you while you sleep. What makes you think we wouldn't just kill you and yours and keep your 'Mechs for salvage?”
“From what Master Wolte said, none of us were actually there for whatever got your command mad at the Wolf's Dragoons; do any of us really still have irons in that fire? Besides, those Clan types ran the whole planetary battalion off, seem to have killed off the militia, and may well have trashed your four lances... if you kill us, pyhrric would your victory be. Together, we might be able to field enough talent and build enough strength to survive until we can figure out a means of getting off this rock. Alone...” I shrug.
She shakes her head.
“What?” I ask.
“I can see why they all stand up for you. You don't know enough politics to weasel and connive. Pretty darn refreshing, actually. And you've learned enough to grasp basic reality and still argue your point with logic instead of bluster. I hate to admit it, but I kinda like that.”
“Well, good. I don't think we need any gunfights while we're tied down here... well, not against ourselves... the Clan types are Ok to shoot.”
She laughs, “Yup, got that.”
“Oh, I don't know how rank was held in your unit... um, did you have a rank?”
“Sergeant. Why?”
“Well, we seem to have officers in 'Mechs, would you mind if you were made a Lieutenant?”
“Officers? Why?”
“I don't know, but one of the first things the Colonel did when I was promoted into a 'Mech was make me a Lieutenant.”
“I was meaning to ask about that. You have Colonel's and Captains... and how many 'Mechs?”
“Had them. And... um... eight 'Mechs usually, plus some rolling stock. Oh, and the dropship.”
“Doesn't seem like enough for even a Captain, don't you think?”
“I honestly don't know much about ranks or why our ranks are the way they are, but I can ask Master Wolte, he would know. In the mean time, since that is the way we do it, would Lieutenant work for you? I rather you not feel like you're a lower class member of the team.”
She nods and with a big smile replies, “Yeah, it's Ok with me.”

…..

“Hanse, can you explain our rank structure?”
“It was a nod at our clan roots. In the Clan military, rank was organized different, it is what Kerensky taught us. A point was lead by a point commander. That might be a sergeant in the Inner Sphere militaries, but depending on the units in the command it could also just as well be a lieutenant. A Battlemech is considered to be worth a point all by itself, so a pilot holds the rank of point commander. A star is the rough equivalent of a lance, with five 'Mechs instead of four, and it is lead by a Star Commander. That is why I first preferred to call you Commander when you became our lead. Normally, a Star Captain held a lot more responsibility than just one lance, and a Colonel more than just two and what little else we had as a unit, but those were the ranks they had held in the Dragoons before each fell on Misery. It was interesting to note that in Commander Tetsuhara's unit they had already used the commander rank as we now have with you.”
“Wow, so we already have a Clan structure?”
He laughs, “no, not really... just the shadow of one.”
“Oh.” I'm not really sure I understand what he sees as different, but maybe he has more in mind than what seems obvious to me.
“Is that all, Padraig?”
I'm about to nod when I remember one of Fatima's questions in a briefing “So was that why sometimes we ran five 'Mechs together in a group?”
“I think so, but you must remember that I never piloted a 'Mech and have no idea how they are used in combat.”
“No idea at all?”
“No. In the Clans, Techs are a lower caste, even those of us who work on Battlemechs.”
I remember how Captain Urso was so dismissive and think I see that he must be right. I do, however, at least have the common sense not to ask about it.

Edited by cmopatrick, 14 March 2013 - 04:54 AM.

[cmopatrick]

We are running along a wide river, snow north of us beyond the deep water and a high gravel bank lining the strand for miles. Out in front, Fatima is maintaining her smooth loping stride, just as I'm sure Abbie is doing on my river flank. Not far behind Nanako is crunching her way along at a reasonable pace. It has been quiet for a while, I think we've snuck past them.
Suddenly, two heavies shoot out over the embankment in front of me and drop with small earthquakes to the gravel and stone beach below. Skidding to something approaching a stop, they are turning towards Abbie and I. I sense more than hear more serious vibrations from behind and see in the 360 that another pair of large 'Mechs has got the two of us boxed.
“Back!” I order and Abbie pivots tight on my shoulder, we have the box at a disadvantage, they are now pointing at each other as well as us and our dancing gives them their first damage from their own brothers.
I aim and fire on the rightmost one, doing a little damage, but also not dancing enough as I do...
Whummmp! It is suddenly very hot and my center rear armor is all but gone. I'm trying to dance the heavy in front of me, but seem to be having trouble getting the 'Mech to obey me at anything like a normal pace.
TSSSSSSS!
The front of the cockpit glows a bright white and Naomi announces, “Cockpit destroyed. Pilot unable to eject, KIA. Would you like to watch the remaining pilots in the sim?”
“Yes, Ma'am.”

I'm suddenly in the 2x getting an education on how to run a light. Even more than Fatima, Abbie is comfortable dancing bigger 'Mechs. Weave, dodge, weave again, dart, spin so quickly that the gyro's must be almost making her sick. Repeat. It's an awesome display of piloting, though I notice she doesn't get a lot of hits during this elaborate performance. Of course, that does beg the question of why she was so easy for me to hit. On the other hand, Nanako and Fatima ARE getting those hits.
It has taken just two minutes for the three of them to kill the four heavies. What little damage I did is hardly worth the mention. This stuff is so different from the months drilling for Joe in the 2x... and now I have to admit I have a niggling suspicion that someone dumbed the qualifying down just for Joe. I'm so far behind and the folks I figured would teach me are gone.
I guess it all comes down to one question: should I even be in a 'Mech?

Fatima's voice comes on and invites, “ready for the next one, Commander?”
Am I? Discipline. Need some.
With more effort than I hope shows in my voice, I answer, “Yes, Ma'am.”

…..

“Sorry to let you down, but I have no idea,” Lloyd says dejectedly. “I know the calendar says March, but this side of the planet is about to start winter. We may be in the best place we can find before spring.”
Nanako and I look at each other and then back at the big display of the hemisphere.
Lloyd continues, “there are old mining areas nearer the poles, but going there without supplies doesn't seem like much of a good idea. Most of the population, at least, is a long way away. Places like Terrino and Johund are the closest, and they are a long several hundred kilometers out.”
Commander Tetsuhara looks up at me, “has Ms. Abboud heard anything from Terrino lately?”
“If she has, she hasn't told me.”
“Yeah, I was afraid of that. If I remember right, there are only four major cities on Winfield, if the militia is defeated and the regiment fled, they will probably get the local towns under thumb pretty quickly.”
I shake my head. It is a huge planet, why isn't there a good place to hide?
“Should we start preparing this place for a serious defense?” I ask no one in particular, and they reply with silence. Looking up, I see both officers staring back at me... I will need to decide.

…..

We feel the vibrations at about the same moment and a constant rumble seems to rise like a sustained bass note throughout the cavernous enclosure. We have been sitting around a fire, but now are sprinting to our varied posts, whether 'Mech or machine.
I climb the hand-holds to the waiting Night Hawk cockpit, drop into the command chair and realize I've left my cooling gear down by my sleeping bag; sure hope I don't need that to stay alive.
“Naomi, emergency power-up to combat ready.”
“Running.”
While the console begins to glow with indicators and lit buttons, I fumble for the plug to connect the neurohelm. After about twenty seconds, Naomi announces, “All 'Mech systems go for combat. However, no flow indicated for coolant vest; did you forget it?”
“Can't go get it now. Override.”
“Override on. 'Mech ready for combat.
I flick the three overhead switches from pulsing red to armed and the big lasers start to warm their capacitors. Before they have gone green, I say, “Naomi, please stand us.”
In all, less than a minute has passed. I do notice that I am the last to get my machine ready. I guess there is much more to learn.

Our defenses right now are limited. Our 'Mechs forms a large arc maybe a hundred and fifty meters away, but enough in the dark that someone coming in from outside won't see us, especially now when the darkness outside throws no light into our hideout. The deuce with it's miniguns is against the far wall and I know it is manned (or is that womanned?) by Lieutenant Tavares.
We have set speakers up near the massive entrance, along with a string of floodlights; they link to the bus where Ensign Marks and Master Wolte must now be stationed. The other techs will be under shelter or in the Land Train.
We are ready when what seem to be hand held lights look in from the opening. Now there seem to be many... with the light amp, I see why... infantry.
It is at this moment that the speakers go active and an electronically distorted version of Master Wolte's most intimidating tone shatters the still. “WHO GOES THERE?!”
Like roaches caught when the kitchen light comes on, the unit scatters, though some of them fall off the ramp down into boxes we have laid there just for this purpose.
The rumble starts again and now a massive battle tank rolls to the head of the ramp.
I'm sure that they hear the challenge even in that thing, “IDENTIFY YOURSELVES OR SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES!”
As if to punctuate the order, our floodlights come on and if they have a light amp in use, the poor souls are likely blinded.

A speaker on the tank finally answers, “Winfield Militia. Who the hell are you?”

Edited by cmopatrick, 23 March 2013 - 07:22 AM.

[cmopatrick]

Master Wolte keys onto our comms, “well, Commander, what do I tell him?”
“I'll take care of it... please patch me into the speakers.”
“You got it, Commander. Live in three, two...”
I count the extra one and zero in my mind then say, “We are free opponents of the Jade Falcon tyranny; survivors of several units, but one team now. We are the Return of the Fallen. We welcome you if you are allies, and may let you leave if you are not.”
“Big words for a bus, a tractor trailer, and a half-track.”
“Naomi, safeties off.”
“Weapons ready to fire.”
Again, I key up, “Would you like a demonstration of just how little you see?”
“Yeah, how about that?”
“As you wish.” My right large laser reaches out and blasts the wall just inside the arch support. Semi-molten debris flies everywhere, and the tank itself gets a good dusting. “Should I continue with more than a token shot? I warn you: I'm not going to keep shooting our walls, I would need to pick a military target.”
“Let me get back to you on that,” the voice says while the turret starts to move.
“I promise you, if you try to point that thing at me, you better mean to use it because I'll order all of us to fire.”
The turret stops abruptly.
A smallish vehicle pulls up along side the tank. A uniformed figure steps out and starts down the center of the ramp. I can't see a lot of details, but I can see a white flag or cloth being held aloft in his or her left hand.
One the comms I request, “Would the rest of you be so kind as to cover me? I think I need to take this meeting.”
Someone chuckles, I think it was Hanse.
“No further than the foot of the ramp. I will meet you there.”
The person continues towards that point and I disconnect. The visor opens and I clamber down the hand-holds.
From the pavement stone, I can see that the soldier has indeed stopped as ordered.
I wonder if my age will make it harder for me to speak for us, perhaps Master Wolte would have been a better choice for this.
As I draw near, the person, almost certainly an officer, salutes in some strange form. I return the salute as Master Wolte has taught me.
“Major Thomas Knuckner of the Winfield Militia Second Armor... or at least what's left of it. And you are?”
“Commander Padraig O'Brian of the Return of the Fallen.”
“Interesting name, Commander.”
“We have survivors from three different units all mostly working together.”
“Mostly?” he asks with what might be a knowing smile.
“Yes, sir. We have rough spots, especially since some of us have been enemies. But I think we are all trying to make a way together until we can at least get off this rock.”
“This rock...” the Major says with a sigh, “this is our home.”
I nod and say simply, “I'm sorry.”
“Yeah, well. We won't do you any harm, but I need to get us out of sight before any sats pick us up. You Ok with that?” Before I can answer, he adds, “I might even have a few 'Mech pilots you could check out that we rescued along the way.”
“If you can work with us and respect our space, come on in.”

…..

“Deidre?!”
Nanako is suddenly running towards a bed, or rather the nearly still form laying on it. She has been trying to review the wounded with the militia's medic, but is now sprinting down the line about seven beds on. The medic and I follow to where she is kneeling beside the bloodstained covers on what must be a slight woman. The medivac crawler could be a small hospital on wheels, some thirty beds sticking out from one wall and just enough space to walk past at the end.
“Paddy?” A rough voice behind me calls. I turn and there is someone who seems to know me, trying to wave a badly bandaged hand. The only clue I have is the contrast of his skin against the bandages. I only know two persons on this planet who are dark-skinned, and both of them are dead... right?
“It's me,” the rasping words say, “Raymond Jordan.”
Now it is my turn to fall to my knees. Bandages cover this once strong man until he could be a stage double for the mummy, and he seems unable to even rise. But he is alive!
“You look horrible, Lieutenant.”
“Yeah, well... made the mistake of walking out to Terrino... guess I was there a couple days after you... the Wacos were nothing compared to that mob. Almost died from the beatings, might still if we don't find a real doc.”
“Well, we have a really good one. She'll get you back on your feet.”
“You still getting to pilot?”
Nanako has arrived at my shoulder, “Commander O'Brian is our CO. and if you want my help, you will respect that.”
Even through the bandages, I can see the look of surprise show in his eyes. “CO? Little Paddy O. Wow, how things change, eh? Um... Commander.”
I smile, “Yeah, Ray. That's about the size of it.”
“What happened to you?” She asks, but the medic answers, “mob in Terrino thought he was a pirate and beat him within an inch of his life, then hung him up in a cell to die. When we came through, they told us he was a 'Mech pilot of some sort and we figured if we could save him it might be worth it in the end. So here he is.”
“How bad is he?” Nanako queries.
“Multiple broken bones, broken nose, probable TBI, serious contusions on maybe ninety percent of his body, and numerous cuts. I think he has lost a couple pints of blood; couldn't find a blood type match, but he has been taking fluids yesterday and today. I've done what I could to stabilize and sew him up, but he is running a temperature just under 38.9. I don't have many antibiotics,” his voice drops so only Nanako and I can hear it, “so I’m trying to hold off on using them for patients that probably won't make it.”
I look at Nanako and clearly say, “if Ray can use anything we have, he gets it.”
Her eyebrows arch for just a second and she says, “No problem, sir.”

Edited by cmopatrick, 23 March 2013 - 06:42 PM.

[cmopatrick]

Raised voices carry across the space from Black Knight. Angry voices. Snarling voices. I am running before I understand what is up.
Nanako and Master Wolte are standing maybe a meter apart, maybe less. Even in the dim light, I know Master Wolte must be livid about something and I suspect Nanako's tension must reflect the same.
“YOU WILL SHOW RESPECT!”
“The hell I will, Snake.”
I'm almost there.
“Then I demand satisfaction, cur!”
“Hold!” I yell, but a moment too late.
“Granted. Laser pistols. Name the time and place.”
“What?! No!!!”
“Now, here.”
“Well bargained and done.”
“What is going on?!”
“Stay out of this, O'Brian.”
“A matter of honor, Commander. You must stay back.”
“Wait, I need to know...”
Master Wolte interrupts, “no, you don't. This is between us and needs to be settled now.”
This must be a duel, they are both clearing their weapons.
“No! I forbid this!”
There is a firm hand on my shoulder and I look to see a somewhat horrified Fatima Al-Zafirah shaking her head “no.”
I look back and they have paced back maybe five meters each.
“NO! I need you both!”
“Order this subordinate to grovel at my feet begging mercy or stay out of this,” the Commander says with a tone guaranteed to freeze a volcano.
One glance at Master Wolte and I see nothing but venom and hatred... he isn't even looking at me.
From behind, Fatima is trying desperately to pull me back.
“Let GO, Lieutenant!” I shout just as another pair of hands grab my left arm... also pulling me backwards.
“Mutiny!!! Help!!!”

It isn't slow motion. Weapons go from their sides to firing as they each dart to avoid the other's attack.
Somehow, I thought Nanako would be at a huge disadvantage... maybe Master Wolte did, too. It is not so.
As she rolls onto the floor and springs again to a firing position, I see fluid movements of a jaguar honed beyond what I have either seen or imagined. Master Wolte is somehow not so quick and her shot takes him in the throat. There is blood suddenly everywhere about him... an instant later, before his expression can even show surprise, a second shot takes him in the forehead and gore erupts from the smoldering holes.
In just a moments time, my advisor and sometime friend is gone, replaced by a crumpling form doused red with it's own blood.
What have I done? What have I let happen? The hands holding me let go and I crumple to the ground. A tear escapes. Then several more. My head seeks out my hands and as it sinks onto their cradle, I am sobbing, crying, wailing. It was so pointless... whatever the cause, I needed him to help me when I needed to depend on someone being solid.
Near my ear, Fatima says, “you need to get a grip or you will lose us. We need you right now more than ever.”
“What the hell does that mean? We just lost...”
“What?” Commander Tetsuhara is even more icy than before, the question laden with challenge, recriminations, disgust. “You lost a bigoted old fool who would not put the team above his own memories. You can lose me too, if you like... or we can do the same,” here she gestures towards the body while patting her own sidearm.
I must grieve later. Somehow I know I must... right now, I want to hurt this woman so much for what she has done.
I rise to my feet and am deciding how to do this when Fairuz at my left leans against me and says, “Lt. Jordan needs her. You kill her, you kill him.”
I glance over my shoulder at her and hear Lt. Al-Zafirah on the other side agree in my other ear.
“They chose a duel, they fought clean, and honor has been served,” Fatima quietly says while Fairuz nods. “This is the way for many such, you must accept it or put all of us at risk.”

“So, I have to accept that you just killed my friend?” I ask Nanako.
Her hand moves away from her sidearm.
“I am your XO. I deserve respect by rank if nothing else. He would not submit even to suggestions and challenged my authority in the most degrading slurs he could find. He wanted it to end, though perhaps he thought it would resolve differently.”
“Don't be hasty... please...” Fairuz plaintively begs, her lips so close to my ear that her warm moist breath is almost percussive on my skin.
“You are right,” I say to Nanako, though the words catch in my mouth and I want to disown them. “If the folks here who know what the rules are agree that this was fair...” I look around and see every head nodding, “then I will accept that virtue was...”
Fatima hisses, “'Honor' not 'virtue'... makes a difference to her."
“Sorry, that honor was served."
She nods and walks to face me closely, looking intently into my eyes. “I did not wish this. I am sorry, but I had no choice.”
I nod and try to reestablish my link with the floor under my feet.

(edit: corrected two missing quotation ends)

Edited by cmopatrick, 31 March 2013 - 10:58 AM.

[cmopatrick]

I miss the way things were.
I am helping Sonya prepare Master Wolte's body for cremation, wondering at how quickly life can spin out of control. His possessions are few, but I think they should depart with him. Well, all except the old laser pistol and some of the documents about the GZR that had been in Colonel Greer's safe... the papers I add to my growing “don't know what to do about” box and the pistol... well, it has a different weight and balance than the ballistic one I'm already familiar with has. Should I wear one or the other or even both? I guess that one decision can wait.
Sonya hasn't said much as we try to make things ready. I too am unsure or unable to put mere words onto my emotions.

Behind me, a throat clears and Sonya glances at someone, then me, and finally focuses intently on the body.
I turn, hands still a little red from mostly dried blood. Major Knuckner is standing patiently a few meters back from our work, but he obviously wants to speak with me.
“Let me clean my hands and I'll be right with you, sir,” I say while reaching for a towel.
“Do what you must. I can wait a few minutes.”

“My condolences, Commander. I guess 'mostly' got away this time, I hope for all our sakes we can keep it from happening again.”
“I tried to stop...”
He interrupts, “No, I saw that and most of what happened. Don't beat yourself up over it. But we need to work to find a way to blow off tensions that doesn't lead to fratricide. Let me ask you something, and please don't be offended by it: have you been an officer long or had any training for command?”
I shake my head as I answer, “No.”
He nods, he was expecting my answer. “I didn't think so, even though your troops are unexpectedly, even fiercely loyal to you. You see, they are not loyal to each other as a unit; you need to build that, even if you were from enemy units to start with.”
Right now, the last thing I want is another lecture on how I should be doing things. I’m about to respond, but he changes the subject... it's as if he knew I was getting frustrated with the direction he was going... odd that.
“We need to talk about our two salvage 'Mechs and if there aren't options available to make a mutually valuable trade.”
“What two salvage 'Mechs, Sir?”
“Come and see, Commander.”

The tarp his techs have just pulled back exposes the face of a Raven 3L with that ugly Waco star painted on it. I wonder immediately if this is the 'Mech Fatima had been trying to place from our first “pirate” battle.
As they continue to pull back the covering, I find myself still looking for what killed it. There are scorch marks here and there from might have been small arms, but nothing to kill it. The only thing I find puzzling is the amount of muck and debris wedged into the seams and cracks on most forward surfaces. By the time the tarp is completely off, Fatima has joined us.
“Another 3L,” she says with wonder.
“Do you know how it was killed?” I ask the Major.
“Yes, we killed it. Our rearguard laid a wire trap, meaning to slow any Jadies that might try to follow us as we retreated. This one ran into it instead.”
“Must be the Waco scout... where is the pilot?”
“Not sure why, but he was dead when we got to the 'Mech. Our medic says the harness was loose and he thinks the pilot broke his neck when the 'Mech slammed into the mud face first. We didn't keep the body, but we figured the 'Mech would be worth retrieving. Do you know the chassis?”
“I have one just like it,” Fatima answers.
“Why would the harness be loose?” I ask.
Fatima answers, “some pilots find the harness to be too restrictive, they aren't comfortable wearing is and probably wouldn't if the 'Mech safety systems didn't require it. They do find ways to fool the system, though, like making it so it doesn't tighten. It's a huge risk, for obvious reasons,” she finishes while gesturing at the prone 'Mech.
The Major wants to move on to the larger form on a very large trailer. “Tis one isn't in quite such good shape,” he says while a small crane pulls back this tarp. This one seems to have indeed fared less well, and the entire face is gone.
“Hatchetman.” Fatima observes. “Cockpit has ejected, I don't know if we will be able to make use of it now that...” her voice fades and she says no more.
The Major looks at us and nods.
“Are you interested in the Raven, then?”
I nod, but reply, “I have no idea how we can pay you for it, not like we have a c-bill access node out here.”
“C-bills are meaningless to us right now. But there are things we do need that I would trade for.”
I look at our equipment and wonder what he could mean.
“Nothing you probably have, but something you types could probably get.”
“I'm listening,” I reply.

…..

Lieutenant Al-Zafira and Commander Tetsuhara are sitting with me around Ensign Marks map table as I explain the Major's offer.
“Let me get this straight,” Nanako starts, “he gives us the two 'Mechs if we run the equivalent of a tech raid?”
“That is what I understand.”
“Two 3Ls would be a powerful combination." Fatima states. "I looked that one over, it has upgraded command and control comms...”
“Better than yours?” I interrupt.
She frowns a bit, “yes, I think they have a newer model. Anyway, a second Harpoon... an SRM4... has replaced the NARC and the TAG has been dropped. Finally, she has extra ammo and heatsinks. Nothing long range, but for this mission, she may be almost as good as mine.”
“But is it worth the risk?”
She looks up at me, eyebrows raised, “Are you kidding me? Yes! Most certainly YES!”

Edited by cmopatrick, 31 March 2013 - 09:55 AM.

[cmopatrick]

Abbie stands quietly off to one side as Anne and I paint the 3L face to the old GZR night ops black pattern. I wonder how well she knew the pilot, or if she resents that tonight I will walk it out. I think a marble statue has more emotion expressed, but I suspect somewhere in there is something we will need to deal with. At least the Waco's star was already painted over when she arrived to watch, I’m glad that wasn't a further cause of tension.
I wonder what she thinks of this. Her unit is decimated and she is reduced to serving with those she has considered targets of revenge. If Ray recovers, we'll have three of us from the GZR. Nanako is from the Whatever Bears and if that Diedre person is a pilot also, there will be two of them. True, we now have more techs from the Wacos, but as far as we know, Abbie is the only pilot they have left on Winfield.
Maybe I need to talk with her. I don't want to leave her here alone with so few others if that puts them at risk.
Climbing off our hodge-podge scaffolding, I walk over to her. She watches me coming, holding on to an evaluating expression that could really mean anything.

“Lieutenant? Would you spare me a minute?”
“Yeah, I can do that.”
“Did you know the pilot for the Raven?”
She looks at me with an emptiness of emotion, “Not well. Captain Boxeur was an elite, he couldn't be bothered to have anything to do with the reserve light lance, even for training.”
I had never considered there were such distinct divisions within 'Mechwarriors. Sure, Fatima is pretty distant at times, but I think that is more about her religion, not her skill. She has always offered to help me with my 'Mech. Ok, that is less than two months of “always” but it's still true.
“You know your techs, right?”
“I've worked with several of them over the years.”
“Would you help me stay informed on how they are doing?”
“I don't spy, Commander,” the icy tone stabs back.
“No, not if they are doing anything in particular, but how they are doing. Like if they are not getting their fair share or feel that way, or if they don't feel like they are getting as much support at their jobs as they have every right to expect.”
“What?” I can't tell if she is offended or surprised.
“Look, I'm not the most experienced commander and I don't know how to talk to everyone. Even worse, my... um... well, Master Wolte can't help me guess anymore, so I need to be able to count on the pilots and officers to help me know what we need to do for the unit to make us at least able to work together until we are out of here.”
“I see why so many of them trust you. You're really trying to learn how to do this right, aren't you?”
“Yeah.”
“Good for you. Ok, I'll try to keep an eye on my guys and make sure you have an idea what the needs or frustrations are.”
“Thanks. Another question, if I may?”
Her face seems a hint less closed, “Sure.”
“Would you consider piloting the 2x?”
Now she is smiling.

…..

The ai in the 3L isn't Naomi; it is a quiet voice in another language that I neither know nor can guess at beyond thinking it is French. The controls all have little markings handwritten over what I'm guessing are Capellan Mandarin characters. Unfortunately, ever the handwritten stuff is meaningless to me, so I need Naomi now more than ever.
This 3L has a much tighter neuro link than the 2x or Night Hawk do, so I have needed to spend some time in the chair with the neurohelm on my head just letting the links and software reset for my brain. I sense we are running out of time, dusk is already darkening the main door; this will be a longish mission, and we need to walk out at as soon as it is night.
There is a tapping on my access hatch and Sonya sticks her head in. “Lieutenant Al-Zafirah said you would want this,” she says while handing me... the BTCT chip!
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
She grins and through a chuckle comments, “yeah, she said she didn't think that in addition to working to lead us you could learn to speak French in just a few hours.”
“Thanks again,” I offer as she crawls back out the way she came. The hatch closes and seals, and I lose no time placing the BTCT chip into its interface.
“Naomi?”
“Yes. You have moved me again.”
“Yeah, and I need some help.”
“Which training mode do you need?”
“Well, the cockpit is marked up in a language I don't understand and the original ai didn't speak English. Can you help me?”
“Yes, all trainers are equipped to assist in training even the basics of a 'Mech.”
“Ok, before I walk this out tonight, let's run through all of the equipment I have.”

…..

“Are you ready, Commander?” Lt. Al-Zafirah asks on our new sequence.
“Ready as I'll ever be.”
“That will have to do.”
“Yes, Ma'am.”
“Throttles up and radio silence, flash ground lights for direct tunneling.”
“Yes, Ma'am,” I reply and my new 3L follows her's up the ramp and into the night.

[Falcon Puncher]

TL;DR

[cmopatrick]

(ooc: please post comments in the ooc thread for this story. thanks.)

The plan is a simple one. Sorta. Six hundred kilometers to the east is a Militia cache with communications hardware. It is supposed to be one of the planet's four such emergency caches. It should also have a data library that the Major is VERY interested in.
The resources should be ones that Fatima and I can carry back with our Ravens... providing we can get there and back alive.
At about 65kph, it will take most of the night to get us close. At least this time I don't need to stay too close to Fatima, my own ECM thing is blinking a nice soft green.
We both have the updated maps that Lloyd gave us, with details down to three meters and about eight different possible routes mapped; most of them really meant as options for the return trip.

As the rocking rhythm of my 3L becomes routine, my mind starts to wander. The Major said I need to build a unit loyalty, and that I need to get to know my people better. Of course, that begs the question of what do I really know about each member in the RotF? Painfully, I have to admit that other than their names, it is pitifully little. I need to ask Hanse... I feel a deepening chill in my heart as I correct my thought; I need to ask the Major how to change that get to know them better.

…..

Unlike my previous walks, this one seems to have passed uneventfully. It is almost dawn and in the growning light we have found shelter. We are maybe twenty klicks out, but need to arrive at night to have more chance of success. The Major has given us IFF codes for his units, so there is less chance other militia will shoot at us, but anyone else, especially the Jade Birds, will probably shoot first and try to piece the questions together later.
We wade through a pool at the foot of a twenty-five meter waterfall, and into the well hidden cave behind.
Horses gallop past, out into the growing light. In the green glow of my light amp, I can see that there was something of a hidden shelter here, with the horses having been corralled behind a fence we have just walked through. I hope we didn't hurt any of them.
Lt. Al-Zafirah flashes her lights and I move to start the tunneling laser.

“We will need to have one of us in our 'Mech at all times,” she says and I know she's right. “And we should probably sleep in them as well. Just get out to... um... relieve ourselves. The horse owners will probably come soon, we need to be careful.”
“Yes, Ma'am,” I agree. What else is there that we can do?
“When you aren't sleeping, work on your night combat drills, especially your dancing.”
I guess that makes sense, “Yes, Ma'am.”
“I need to get out for a few minutes for my ablutions. Will you cover me until I'm done?”
“Yes, Ma'am.”

I see her descending from her cockpit and making her way to a place where the water is falling near the mouth of the cave. I can see her washing with the water, and imagine there are movements that imply rituals, but I decide it is somehow a private moment for her and look away. I wonder if this is part of her Islam faith stuff. I've seen Fairuz make motions like a plus sign over her chest and do other things I don't understand, I suspect this is similarly something meaningful to Fatima.
Unbidden, I remember the first time I saw Lt. Al-Zafirah off duty in a hallway speaking with Anne. They were both dressed very conservatively or modestly, or whatever that is... and that reminded me of Mum. Da never put much stock in religion, but in her enigmatic way, my mother did. After she died, I wasn't around anyone who was into religion, very few of the businessmen da dealt with were and none of the techs I knew. Not until I got to know Anne had I done more than see them as I passed by their buildings.
Kinda seems strange when you think about it: of the five houses, only Liao is openly hostile to these believer types. For example, Christians, Muslims, and several other groups like that are not only officially recognized throughout the Federated Commonwealth, but they seem to thrive among the real working people.
I wonder what it tells me about these people that they are both willing to accept that stuff and still be very good at what they do... even violence. Is it something to do with mental discipline, or is there more underneath? I guess I will have to ask some day if I really want to know; for now we both just need time and rest.

…..

“Commander, are you awake yet?” Lt. Al-Zafirah's question intrudes on the edge of sleep and it is probably a miracle I recognize the meaning of the words.
“Um, yes, Ma'am. How may I assist?”
“I hope you are rested, we will be leaving soon.”
I thought we weren't leaving until... oh... the mission clock shows I have indeed slept much if not most of the day. “I guess I got some sleep.”
“Good. Tonight, concentrate on keeping a wide front. We should stay three to four hundred meters apart unless we have contact, then only whomever has actual hostile activity should break radio silence. This place is supposed to have very sensitive comm gear; if it is in use, they will detect any transmission we make other than the direct tunneling lasers.”
“What if the Major was right and there are no hostile contacts?”
“Then we will see what we will see. Do you plan to extract the gear yourself or would you prefer I do?”
I think about it, there are five rack mounted units that we are here to take, either of us can spot them and they should not weigh more than either of us can carry. “You are the better pilot,” I reply. “If trouble comes, you would be better able to counter it while I try to get back into my 'Mech.”
“Good choice, but what do you know of booby-traps?”
“Not much,” I admit.
“Then the alternative reality is that while you might be less effective right now in your 'Mech, I am at least familiar with many of the little trip wires and plates that might be hidden there. I would trust you more in the 'Mech to cover me while I make sure I am at least alive and well to get back into mine should there be hidden passive defenses.”
She is right; I hadn't even thought about them, since the Major hadn't mentioned them. Things have gone so smoothly, there is bound to be something like traps to get through.
“You have a good point, Ma'am. But if you find anything, try to get an image so you can explain them to me when we are home again.” Only after I say it do I realize that “home” now means a hidden bunker that is filling with refugees from the Jade Whatevers.
“Agreed, Commander.”
“I wish you would call me Padraig like you once asked me to call you Fatima.”
“Fair enough, Padraig. Are you ready to move out?”
“Yes, Fatima... and thanks.”

Edited by cmopatrick, 28 April 2013 - 06:03 AM.

[cmopatrick]

I'm not completely sure what I expected we would find upon arrival, but what is here is not it. We have walked unimpeded to the coordinates given us, only to confront a burnt out house and a worn old barn within an area of unkept fields maybe two kilometers across. There are the remains of a corral and what might once have been a stack of hay bales near the barn; fence-lines crisscross the fields, and in the middle of one area what might be a tractor is nearly covered with vines of some sort.
Fatima's Raven circles the perimeter of the outer “fence” with a slow methodical motion that only leaves me wondering what she is looking for. When she finally returns, her lights flash and we line up for the tunneling beam.
“Well, did you find out anything?” I ask, without expecting much.
“Yes, Padraig. There are fairly recent tracks where that little road comes in over there on the southeast, they lead pretty much towards the barn.”
“Think someone is hiding there?”
“I have no mass signatures apart from the building itself, though it does seem to have more metal than I would have expected. I think what we are looking for is here, but now I would like to demech and check it out. Will you cover me?”
All the reasons I can think of to say “no” flood my brain, but we have already discussed this and she is right. “Ok, but take at least a low powered transmitter.”
“I don't have a secure one.”
“I don't either, but take one anyway. Be cryptic about everything except 'HELP!'”
“Fair enough. Be right back.”
We lose the link as her 3L crouches. I see her dismount and carefully make her way to the barnyard. She has a handlight, and seems to be watching the ground as she picks her way closer and closer to the building.
I realize I am holding my breath and try to correct that with deep deliberate breathing. She stumbles for a moment and her light falls to the ground. A huge shadow moves in front of the barn! No, wait, that is just her leg. I think I about had a heart attack. It is a good reminder to check my sensors again... nothing there. Ok, she has the light again and moves into the doorway.
I can see the shadows cast by the doorway brighten and darken as she moves around inside.
Suddenly, the light goes out.

Bmmmp bmmmp. Bmmmp bmmmp. My heart is louder than any onboard system. I never thought to ask her to set a time... how long to wait before I come charging to her rescue, or even before I use the comm.
“Naomi, please turn on the external microphone.”
“Done as requested.”
I don't hear any difference... well... maybe there are night sounds... very, very faint ones.
“Please turn up the sound, Naomi.”
“As you wish.”
Now I can head better, but it still seems... oh, “Naomi, please reset the volume and send the signal to my headset.”
“Changes made, Commander.”
“Thank you.”
Now I can hear the night sounds: distant bullfrogs and nearby crickets, rustling sedges and the slight squeak of the weather vane, maybe even the distant hoot as one owl speaks to another.
A drop of sweat slips from my eyebrow along the corner of my right eye, wending it's way down to my chin. “Please increase coolant flow, Naomi.”
She does and I feel cooler almost instantly.

It has been ten minutes and I'm honestly starting to panic when the open comm crackles to life: “Quoth the Raven, it's Ok.”

[cmopatrick]

Fatima has already carried two bundles up to her Raven and has gone back for a third. Each time that light disappears, I hold my breath, catch myself doing it, and take a few minutes to recover.
At least my heartbeat is a bit less urgent and my mind not so close to panic. It does seem like my mind is starting to play tricks on me, I keep imagining I see a star twinkling too low on the horizon.
No, that's not right... the star just went behind a tree and is back for a moment before winking out again.
I key the open comm channel, “My cousin is coming.”
The light winks on again; it is clearly moving through the trees to our southeast, though very slowly. Nothing on the sensors yet, but I think whatever is still too far out.
Fatima exits the barn lugging her third bundle. Climbing the handrails with the burden seems to be taking forever.
“Three of five,” her voice states on comms.
I notice her Raven start backing away, then it turns and walks back to the tree-line behind us. I follow suit, reestablishing our space so neither of us is too close to the other. After passing a tree, I turn and face the buildings, still waiting for whatever the blinking light's true form to show.

…..

There is just a little breeze right now, but it moves the branches in front of me just enough to make it harder to see what might be out there. I haven't seen the little light blink on for a while now, and my sensors are still clear.
“Naomi, can you check for comm traffic?”
“Yes, Padraig.”
My breath and the slight hum of fans blowing air past the heat sinks are the only sounds.
I realize for the first time tonight that I have gotten this far without ever arming my weapons. Fat lotta good I would have done if we had come under attack.
“Naomi, combat diagnostic, please.”
“Executing,” she replies and I see the cycle progress. It finishes fairly quickly and she replies, “Done.”
I look up at my arming switches and wonder how loud the SRM covers are when retracted; I don't know, but decide to skip them for now. The laser capacitors begin to hum and I know that I'll at least have something if needed.
For just a moment, there seems a flicker of light in the barn. I wasn't looking that way, so it might just have been my imagination.
The night is still, no sign of activity.
I turn the external mic on again, wondering if there might be some sound I should hear. Nothing but the small sounds of little creatures rustling through the brush.

I still have no contacts on my sensors, but I do notice that Lt. Al-Zafirah is walking forward again, albeit very slowly.
I step through the branch that separates me from the open spaces just as I hear the sound... the thrum of inbound choppers. Back I step to use the tree for shelter, but before I can key to warn Fatima, their lights are in the sky, sweeping in towards us. Glancing over at her, I recognize she may have seen them too late, but is at least moving backwards slowly now. They seem preoccupied and from both piercing beams lance forward, searing the night and obliterating the barn. They have split up and are moving around the clearing still intent on the now blazing remnants of the structure.
“Naomi, clear laser safeties.”
“Clear, fire at will.”

“Engaging!” Fatima calls just as I notice the choppers are starting to pivot towards her. One of them flies almost overhead, oblivious of my position and I tilt back enough that I will have it in a moment... yes, it crosses my reticule and both mediums reach out, shearing through something and cutting at least one of the rotor blades completely off to fly projectile-like to harpoon some distant place. It is wobbling and as I throttle up I can see it trying to turn. The mediums have recharged and I slice through some part of the rotor linkage... it is coming down fairly hard.
BAMM! The impact isn't enough to destroy it, but as it tries to settl off balance, the remaining blades shear themselves off and remain impaled deep in the soft earth. I will come back for them, but right now am accelerating to assist Fatima's Raven as it dances to get a clean shot. It is firing what seems a large laser, though from a long way back... that can't be right. Well, whatever it means to do, it has drifted into my range and I blast away at it's underside. It turns to find my dancing form, but in so doing, it invited Lt. Al-Zafirah's lasers and it too begins an unanticipated descent. It remains airborne just barely, spinning around like a top, while the two of us stay clear of it's weapons. Fatima finally fires into it's rotor mast, severing the spinning blades from the rapidly falling bulk.

I turn and speed back to the first downed craft and wonder if I should do something about it. Our sequence comes alive and Fatima says, “Offer them the chance to surrender, Commander. Kill them if they don't.”
“Naomi, please turn on the outside speaker.”
“It is now on, Padraig.”
“Pilots in the warcraft, power down completely and surrender or expect to be executed where you sit.”
A hatch of sorts opens and two persons clamber out.
“Naomi, have they powered down?”
“Yes, but there is a distress beacon.”
To the two of them I announce, “On your faces with your hands behind your heads.” I key the mic closed and ask Naomi, “Where is it located?”
“At the base of the mast assembly.”
“Thank you.” I aim at what I guess is correct and my mediums reach out and sublimate the metal and destroy whatever was within.
“Did that get it?”
“Yes.”
“Were there any communications?”
“There have been several since you instructed me to monitor for them.”
I know the ai won't appreciate the meaning of my rolling my eyes, but the fact that I have forgotten how literal she can be just blows my mind. “Would you also tell me when you find comm traffic other than our own?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Or tell me what you already found?”
“Beside the traffic associated with the two choppers, there was also one open channel transmission.”
“And just what did that say?”
“Replaying.”
A smoky woman's voice starts, “Hello friends and welcome to Radio Free Winfield. I'm your host tonight for True News, brought to you by your planetary militia and real people like you who hate the Jadies...”

[SneakySniper]

Falcon Puncher TL;DR - You sir are an *****. To understand and appreciate this post you must be able to READ. A complex process for you apparently!

[cmopatrick]

(ooc: please post comments in the ooc thread for this story. thanks.)

I key live and let Fatima in on the RFW broadcast. I ask after, “Do you think she survived?”
“No idea, let me check.”
“Bring your prisoners over here?”
“No, let's march both sets over south of the barn near the hay bales, then I'll check on our mystery woman.”
On the loudspeaker, I order, “You two, up and towards the barn. NOW!”
It seems I have a lot to learn about managing prisoners. Instead of doing what I have ordered, one bolts straight at my legs and the other goes left towards the trees.
“Unauthorized attempted access to the 'Mech,” Naomi informs me. I throttle up and start to run, only to realize that the shadow I just saw in the air in front of me was one of the chopper pilots taking a last flight. Too late, I stop and realize he is now nothing but a crumpled mangled pile of garments and crushed flesh where I just stepped on him. I look around for the other pilot, but he is using the woodland biomass to hide.
“I just lost them.”
“What?”
“They split up and ran, one tried to climb up the Raven and got... er... stepped on. The other disappeared into the woods.”
“I'll have to teach you how to move prisoners, but that has to wait. Why don't you come watch these two?”

I do; Fatima moves closer to the smoldering ruins and demechs again.
The open comm channel tells me, “Get ready to move. More will be here in just a few minutes. While you're standing there, set the bales on fire and make the prisoners run away.”
Over the loudspeaker, I announce, “You two get out of here. NOW!” I quickly line up the mediums and an emerald beam ignites the dried grasses into a rapidly growing inferno. I can see the shadows of two pilots running for their lives.
I walk the 3L quickly over to the barn and see two forms leaving the wreckage; both appear to be carrying heavy bundles. One climbs up the other Raven, but after leaving her bundle the second person moves towards me.
“You have a passenger,” echos in my brain as Lt. Al-Zafirah keys our secure line hot. “I don't have room to get her out of here and they will be here soon. You should probably take her and go, I will meet you back at base.”
“Do I have room?”
“A lot more than I do. I have the units the Major wanted stacked in here.”
I hear a rapping on the service hatch and clear the locks. It opens and I can just make out the sound of someone crawling in and settling behind the command couch. The board shows the hatch locking and secure.
“I need you to take me back near my own base,” a woman's voice says in barely more than a whisper.
“Well, let's get out of here first, then I'll work with you as best I can.”
“Fair enough, you have maybe two minutes.”
“Ok, hold on back there, here we go.”
Throttle up and I turn north, figuring that Fatima will head due west towards home.
“Good luck, Lieutenant,” I say quietly on the secured sequence.
Her reply is likewise subdued, “May the Merciful One be kind to you, Commander.”

We have run north maybe four klicks, following a small creek that makes passage through the mixed wood and grasslands a much easier proposition. I slow and turn to look back... there are several lights in the distant sky.
“Which way am I going?”
“Head east towards Lake Arriset.”
I pull up the map and see that Lake Arriset is some twenty-five or so kilometers away. I'm very glad right now for the ECM, I imagine those hunters will be looking very soon.
The route seems to split in one of two directions, both circling a dead volcano named “Morlan Spire”. The more southerly route would swing me back closer to the nearing enemy while the more northerly would take me much longer to traverse. Maybe I should let her have a say in the matter.
“I need to avoid this old volcano...”
“Morlan?” she interrupts to ask. “Yeah, go around north. There's nothing that way for dozens of kilometers, they won't look out there until we are long gone.”
I set the throttle to something between a basic walk and a full run, and the countryside passes fairly fast.

It seems weird to have this unknown woman behind me, us this close without even trying to converse. Maybe I should change that.
“I should introduce my...”
“No names, use your callsign.”
“My what?”
“Don't you have a callsign?”
“Uh... no?”
I can hear her laughing. “Well, you saved my bacon, I'll call you Angel.”
“Er... no offense, but I'm not much of an angel, Ma'am.”
“Too late, Angel it is. I'm Nightingale.”
“Um, Ok. Were those Jade...”
She interrupts again, “Falcons? Yes. I wish you had had a 'Mech with hands, it would have been nice to salvage some of their comm gear, or even the whole chopper. Any and all of their stuff we can get hold of could help us find a way to fight back.”
“Are you with the resistance?”
“Yes. I don't recall the Regiment having 'Mechs like yours, so I would guess you are mercenaries who got trapped onworld somehow.”
“Yes, Ma'am. There are some other...” I stop in mid sentence, am I sure I should tell her about the Major and his armor?
“Very good. Best not to tell me right now. We can establish trust later. Tell whomever that they are not alone. The equipment your partner was getting is enough to tell me that they are ours. They will know how to use it to contact us.”
We continue along for a little while until I just have to ask, “How did you sneak in there, we were watching that blinking light and it just stopped.”
“Oh, you mean my bicycle. It seems they don't see it on their sensors, so I could ride out and back without detection.”
“Well, won't they find it now?”
She laughs heartily, “Heavens no, those lasers made slag of it. Why do you think I needed a ride home?"

(edit: added the ooc link)

Edited by cmopatrick, 28 April 2013 - 06:08 AM.

[cmopatrick]

Nightingale seems happy to talk about her cause and what she knows about the Jade Falcons, but is unwilling to talk about herself. “You have to understand, I must always be on guard. Even most of my best of friends don't know; I know they would never willingly give me up, but there is almost always a breaking point that the enemy will push towards and I rather not subject them... or you... to having someone force them over that line.”
“Well, I guess you have to do what you can.”
“Yes.”
We tromp along and a silence grows.
Finally, “You need to be careful on your way back. They'll likely be mad that they almost got me and you intervened. I hope your base isn't very close.”
“No, it isn't.”
“Good. Our reports are... oh... you came from the west, didn't you?”
I try to be a bit cautious, “perhaps.”
“If its the old terra-forming station, you need to be ready to move soon or defend it. Our intel currently has it third on their target list to investigate, right behind Chaemoss and it's 'ruined' bases down south and the old Outpost Castle in the Mesa Islands. They are supposedly ready to do Chaemoss in the next day or so, though I would expect that both of them may take a week or more to actually execute.”
That is good to know and I say as much.
“Actually,” she intimates, “I think there may be an incident or two near the capitol that might further slow their timetable.”
I wonder about all this information, she sure seems to know quite a bit about what's going on.

My musings are interrupted as I step through a grove of evergreens and am suddenly almost onto the bank of a wide lake. Were it not for the distant lights along the opposite shore, I might have missed it entirely until I was already into it.
“Ok, we're at the lake, where to now?”
“This can go underwater, right?
“Yes, Ma'am.”
“Good. Go out until you are entirely covered, then head south. Let me know when you are about even with the village of Fish Head.”
I look at my map, zooming in enough that I can finally see the hamlet on the near shore, maybe eight or nine kilometers south. I walk the Raven out until I'm almost submerged, water sloshes across the nose and wind waves occasionally break over the view. I try to keep it out this much, but it is all the harder to see and I'm constantly fighting the water's motion.
Finally just giving up, we turn to deeper waters, until all I can see are shifting lights and shadows in the light amp as if star beams were all the light I would ever see again. Throttle down to fifteen kph, just feeling my way along the lake bed. I'm glad I don't need to run right now, and even more glad that the bottom seems pretty flat and smooth... well, so far.

…..

“Ok, we are east of Fish Head. I think I can even see some lights reflected in the waves overhead.”
“Good. Half kilometer south of town is a bluff, the actual Fish Head... as in 'Headland'. My boat is hidden on the beach that runs up against it on the north.”
“Ok, I'll head that way.”
“Good. The ground is a little rockier there, so be careful.”
“Yes, Ma'am.”

…..

I grow more and more cautious as the Raven rises from the lake, partly because there are indeed more rocks for me to feel my way through still hidden beneath the splashing waves, but mostly because I feel suddenly naked to unknown watchful eyes.
I've had the BAP off to limit my radiation profile, but now I turn it on just to see what might be out there... and I stop walking forward. If the sensors are correct, there along the beach are four... no five, enemy pings.
Into reverse, backing out slowly, hoping I haven't been seen. “We have a problem,” I say.
“What?”
“Five contacts on the beach.”
I hear a quick breath sucked into her startled lungs.
“They meant to catch me tonight.”
“I guess so, Ma'am.”
“Did they see you?”
“I don't think so or they would have probably fired.”
“We can hope.”
“Where do you want to go now?”
“Let's get into deep water and let me think.”
“Ok. You could come back to the base with me. We might be able to help you set up shop somewhere.”
“Maybe.”
I am finally underwater again, and I turn the BAP back off. There's no sign of pursuit, but now I'm even more troubled.
“Head for the far shore,” she finally says. “I guess I'll have to trust you after all.”

[cmopatrick]

It has taken nearly an hour to cross the lake, often moving at less than five kilometers per hour. I guess I'm fortunate to have gone that fast, something about the geology thankfully means that this body of water has a fairly shallow “U” shaped cross-section without any deep drop offs or unexpected walls. Nightingale has explained that the same glaciers that now cloud the water with silt once scoured much of this basin out.
“Do you have a map up?” Nightingale asks. “There should be an obvious bay with a very large marina in it. That is the village of Risers.”
Looking at the map, I can see a bay and something in the water that must be the marina just a little to our south, but no town to go with it. “I see a bay and something in the water just south of here, but no village.”
She laughs, “That is because Risers is the marina. When the glaciers have a rush, the lake can flood the shoreline meters deep for up to a half kilometer or more inland. With houseboats and other floating buildings, we are never flooded, we just rise with the surge.”
“Oh. I see.”
“Most of us have hovercraft, boats, or both; we can move where we need to fairly easily. There is a parking area for wheeled vehicles on high ground about two kilometers inland, but no one lives there; the lake is safer and provides too many resources for free. Honestly, I even like it when the storms roll across.”
“Ok. So, is that where I'm headed?”
“Yup. You will need to come around from the... oh, how tall is this Battlemech? You need to be able to stand in ten meters of water and open up.”
“Um, that isn't happening.”
“Oh. Well, I guess then we need to go closer to shore somewhere that you won't be seen. Besides, even if someone spotting us was sympathetic, I can't be seen associating with a BattleMech.”
“Anyone likely to be out at that parking lot at this time of night?”
“No, and that's a good idea.”
I head towards the shore a couple of klicks north of the bay's mouth. As I rise out of the water, I again turn on the BAP. All clear so far, that's good. In the green of the light amp, I can see a slight glow on the horizon about where the parking lot should be. Hmmm, If I get too close to those lights, I would run the same risks as rising up in the shallower parts of the marina.
I'm sure its a trick of the eyes, but the lights seem to have dimmed a bit. “What time do they turn out the lights at the parking lot?” I ask Nightingale.
“STOP!” she exclaims.
“What's wrong?”
“There are no lights at the parking lot.”
“Could it be someone getting back from wherever and they just haven't turned their lights off? They did seem to dim a few moments ago.”
“I don't know, but it doesn't seem likely. Look, I know I've been a burden, but I need you to go back into the lake and head north until you are level with The Twins, a pair of bluffs that rise maybe a hundred meters, they give a great view back towards the village and the parking area. If you come out on the far side of them, you shouldn't be visible until you crest the slope, and you can stop before you are completely in the open.”

…..

We have gone maybe a quarter of the way when she almost apologetically says, “I'm going to need to get out soon.”
“Yeah, I guess it must be getting uncomfortable back there.”
“Well, there is a natural need that is past 'uncomfortable' that I need to address. It's an emergency.”
“Oh, sorry. There's a foldaway emergency system behind the panel marked, 'Only Open in Emergency'. It should be on the right.
“None of the panels on your right are marked anything like that.”
“Hmmm, hang on.” I change my tone just a bit and say, “Naomi? Where is the emergency human waste disposal unit?”
“Onboard HWDU is located in a pullout system directly to the...”
“Never mind, found it.”
“... right of the secondary gyro access hatch.” Naomi finishes.
“You will be a gentleman while I use it, right?”
“Yes, Ma'am. Let me stop so it doesn't buck.”
“Thanks.”
As I zero the throttle, I add, “Naomi, please start some walking music for me while the unit is in use so I don't hear anything.”
“Yes, Sir,” she replies and a comfortable electronica groove begins.”

The music finally ends and I perceive that Nightingale must have finished.
“Thanks. That really helped.”
“No problem, Ma'am,” I reply as I push the throttle up again.

…..

We are on the hillside sitting just high enough that we can look down at the parking area several kilometers away. I can't make out what is down there, but there are many lights. Switching to the infrared detector makes the danger much more apparent: there are at least five 'Mechs down there. I look around and notice several more heat blooms further inland on some kind of hill... no, those are choppers hovering.
“They are expecting you.”
She has moved to where she is looking out at the distant parking lot and agrees, “Yes, there is no other reason for them to be here. We don't have any 'Mechs of our own left, and even if we did, we wouldn't leave them out in the open like that for satellites to spot.”
“I'm going back out into the lake, we can decide what to do there.”
“Agreed. This sure isn't what I had planned. I hope I haven't put anyone in jeopardy.”
“I guess we'll have to see.” I back the Raven until I'm sure I'm invisible to the 'Mechs and chopper pilots, then run to the water. Only when I finally approach the strand do I slow and look for some way to hide my tracks when I go back in. A small stream with a turbulent flow will have to do; whatever I stir up, it will carry it away.

Only when I am fully submerged again do I stop and ask, “Well, what now?”

[cmopatrick]

“Well, I guess I'm at risk here. I'm sorry I tried to get you to take me home.”
“No, you would have done it for me. Can you think of anywhere else you want to go more than back to our base? I'm sure the Major would want to meet you.”
“I guess we don't have very many other options right now, do we?
“No, Ma'am.”
I pull up my map, zoom it out until I can see our base and put Lloyd's return route overlay on it. They all presumed we would be well west of here, leaving the site of the parts we salvaged. Worse still, if I can believe my mission clock, it will be near enough to daylight in just a few more hours that we'll be much easier to spot. We need to find cover and a place to rest.
At it's north end, Lake Arriset runs smack into the base of the Mars Arriset Glacier, one of the longest fingers reaching down from the great ice sheet covering Winfield's north pole. The map shows white things in the water near it, I wonder if the water might be cold enough to hide our heat completely from any searches.
“Should we maybe head up to near the glacier?” I ask.
“Well, you do know there are ice bergs up there, right?”
“Oh.” I guess that could put a dent in my idea, if not my 'Mech. “Well, we need some place to hide and I have no real ideas that I'm sure I can get to before daylight.”
“How about the forested hills just east of the glacier?”
“Not sure I like going east any more. Isn't there anything west?”
“I don't know the west side of the lake nearly as well, and most of where I do know now has Jadies running around.”
I wish I had found the time to have Lloyd help me understand maps better. But I don't know what to look for to find safety and hurrying back towards the closest safe place he has marked will surely get us caught in the open and spotted. Of course, the corollary of the problem is that if I go east any more, I will have to take at least two nights to get back, presuming that we aren't running for our lives at some point.
Unfortunately, I lack options. To Nightingale, I say, “Well, I guess if the trees closer to the lake are big enough, that might help. I seem to be fresh out of other options right now.”
“There is a little summer fishing camp maybe a half kilometer from the glacier, tucked back into some really big trees. There shouldn't be anyone there, and there would be enough space between the trees to move something this big completely under cover. It is all high enough away from the water that calving never floods it.”
“Calving?”
“When monstrous chunks of the glacier fall into the lake, they make massive waves... kind of like dropping a big rock in a pond multiplied ten thousand times.”
“Oh. If it's all that dangerous, why have the camp that close?”
“The camp is safe, and we keep our boats up well above the high water mark. Besides, the fishing is remarkable and just being there is pretty spectacular... especially at sunset.”
“Sounds dramatic.”
“Oh, it is.”

…..

The fishing camp is actually pretty well hidden; the abandoned boat ramp is the only easily visible evidence that people frequent the area, and right now it is deserted. The nearest cabin is back into the forests at least ten meters and most of the remaining six are thirty or more meters further.
I have hidden the Raven at the foot of an arboreal giant with a diameter greater than most of the cabins are wide. I powered it down completely, and hope it is a risk not foolishly taken.
Nightingale seems to have a fire going in one of the cabins. She slipped out the access hatch as soon as I had stopped, I guess she needed to... um... find the facilities again.
It will be fully light soon. I'm going to need to get some shut eye, I suspect the Raven will once again double as my bedchamber.
I wonder how Fatima is doing. If she made a great enough pace, she should be back about now. I wish there were good means of communicating with her that far, but that strong a signal would surely be tracked.
I lean back against a fir bole near the boat ramps and stare absentmindedly out at the morning mists hovering wraith-like over the water. I'm so comfortable and relaxed that I think I'll just sit here a while and listen to the myriad birds as they start their day.

…..

I open my eyes and realize I'm slumped, still half sitting, next to the tree trunk... but time has past, the sun is almost in my eyes to the west. I move to get up and realize that there is a large note pinned to my tunic. It reads:

Angel.

A friend has come unexpectedly and will take me to my comrades. I have no time to explain, and believe the best I can do for you is let you sleep. Thank you so much for all your efforts on my behalf; if you or your command ever need my help, I will be glad to assist. In the mean time, there is food and a small gift on the table in the third cabin back between here and your machine. By the way, my friend never saw your BattleMech, so that secret is safe; he thinks you brought me here by boat and I have not told him differently. Take care and remember, the terraforming station is likely to be searched in the next week or so. When you hear Nightingale on the radio, any messages for you and your command will be addressed to “Angel”...

Godspeed to you and swift defeat to the Jade Falcons!

Nightingale

I have to admit that I wish I had been able to talk with her. I guess she wanted to continue to be anonymous and this made the most sense. Getting up, I stride back to the cabin and find several sealed pouches of a pink-fleshed fish; I imagine them to be smoked stagback and my mouth waters at just the sight of them. There is also a large loaf of hunter's bread still warm from the oven and two bottles: one labeled Charan Mountain Rose and the other Bee Hollow Jasmine Meade. There is also a small box with a label marked, “For Angel, From Nightingale.” I unwrap it and inside is a light golden-colored necklace with a small Christian cross inlaid with blue stones and having a ring of green stones around it's crossing point. Seems like an odd gift considering that I'm not a Christian, but maybe it was the most valuable thing she could give me. It does occur to me that Fairuz might like it, and so I tuck it away for later.