fffvvvv- ♪them say what♪-

“Highm- ffff do you-”

♪we‘re something far from♪-

“Do you rea- *vvv*”

The radio just kept cycling and cycling through interference laden channels. A song covering up the cries of comrades trying to follow. Alarms burned out their claxons to a tune trying to sound familiar. All of it falling to a steady beat and meter that had devolved to wobbling unease.

The gyro was trashed. Controls clung to as best they could be. One arm stretching over and grasping at the stick not set up for it. The other… What was left being squeezed as hard as it could be under that overburdened and unaccommodated arm. A cold tension mixing with warm creeping soil, though an odd relief found in the jangle still pressed into their collar.

Vision blurred as grey and green fumbled by the halved view screen still flickering in life. The terrain offering no mercy as it kicked and rolled precarious existence to spray. A fraught ignoring of the numb foot pressing hard on to the pedal. Just desperate to get as far away as possible.

“*fff* -any one see-*crak* *ffff*

♪So let it all fall♪-

“*vvv* Contact!! They followed us! Don’t let that thief get- *ffff*

♪We’ll be right here still in*vvv*till that end.♪”

The reactor was all that mattered. The mission all that mattered. Even as it seemed to leak and burn at its carrier. This life didn’t matter if it was at least used to its fullest. Keeping this power away from those who would abuse it. Away from… from…

Head slumping, vision darkening, brain losing out to blood loss and who knows how many sieverts per second. Everything going cold and numb and stifling and burning and- *thunk*

That head shooting up, a building taking the brunt of the mech’s faltering course. Sheering away something important and stumbling for an even gait. But failing that to terminal extremes. A hill of rubble tossing all about with no regard for staunch. For missions. For duty. For anything. Just seeming to want this wasted life awake as long as it could manage. Wobbling legs sliding down to a sickening creak, ending in a snap and all the tension left within turning to slack. The hull rocking loose as it slouched off its shocks.

Door already blown part way open, but stopped by spalling and impacted metal. Grip and steed failing as one, loosing that life to its determined end. The mech’s own bleed for more substantial and its own mission more than complete. Throwing its charge with callous attitude befitting a beast over driven. Dropping it atop a bed of green more than happy to take them in.

The sky an open and spared blue, free of the fire and strife behind. Yet whiting and blackening in countering measure. A body so heavy, so limp and useless. Hope wrung out and fading by the opened loop. But that heart still was all there. Was beating into their ears. No chasing metal hooves or clamoring hounds on the hunt to fight it for clarity. Just a settling whir of dying a machine and the spreading echo rumble of its final steps. Everything falling to silence in depth. Silence in victory. They’d done it. They’d gotten away. Their people were safe.

…Rachael was safe.

The world too maybe, but who cared. Vision turning black, the cold all consuming, nerves firing back but being swallowed up instead. The feeling of that jangle being wrapped up in their hand. And a tune, that tune still playing them out. Bringing a smile onto their face like nothing could take it away. It was finally over. They were- *THUNK*

Still in the thick of it.

That darkness became stars and percussion onset headache. Hiding place dim with only a little light leaking in between armor seams. Rubbing the pain and dream world away, Micha felt the reason for his rude awakening. He was along for the ride back to wherever these thieves had come from. And hitting every rock along the- *THUnk*

The space was stifling, shaded but exposed to machine friction and oil. Micha’s headache was expanding to something more akin to slow asphyxiation. And any more hits to the head were going to- *Thunk* Make him mad. The access panel was flung up and left to rattle away, and the fresh air of the outside world allowed in as Micha soaked it all up face fir- *SMack*

He forgot what was causing all those thunks. His snoot being booped too damn hard by a kicked up rock, he was forced to settle for being laid out next to the new vent. Teary eyed and bloodied. And knocked about by every stone on this poorly maintained road. Feeling shock absorbers bunch and relax. Top heavy weight swaying precariously. He could feel the added mass of the mech off the back, feel its gyro fight every cant and lurch. And feel it brace just before- *thuNK*

Hitting another speed bump. At the very least he had a small beam of light to lay in. So he had to be content with laying on his back, jacket open, with just barely enough air to breathe. For however long this road would be.

Though oddly, the sounds of unending road were not alone. A small tune just barely passing through the metal. Maybe a small reprieve to the oncoming monotony of who knows how long this journey would last. He pulled out his headset and checked the radio’s power. A good fifteen present wasn’t much but he wouldn’t really need it after the fact. Turning up the sound he was greeted by the automatic seeker flowing through the frequencies. Buzzing along through dead air. Peaks rising and falling as interference wafted over. Bands long destroyed or claimed by nature. Or little more than dust on the wind. A morse beep pulled free of the static, but fell on deaf ears. He knew the language, or at least he did at one point. Finally reaching the highest levels, it seemed like the hope for a clear channel to patch in was in vain. Until a voice cut in with melody already flowing.

Already rising. Being added to. Bleating trumpets, a ticking of a bass and drum line, an old style big band. A lead woman amid a crowd kinda singing along in their own tune. It was very old, nearly swaying in its own right, but for some reason it caught a knot in Micha’s throat. Like he’d listened to it before over and over. Like he’d left someone behind as well, and was looking to that sunny day to come about already.

But also something else, nearly driving a tear out of the fog still clinging to its form. But he could just barely make out that someone still waiting for him in that tune. Just make out the words they were singing to it. Though having it all ease away as the band played it all out.

“Hmmm… Any idea when Caf’s going to find some new records to play? This stuff was ancient even before the world went to hell.”

“Huhh, can’t you just appreciate it a little Rezz.”

“I’m not saying it’s bad, it’s just that he plays it every day. It’ll be his own fault when people tune off the homing signal out of sheer boredom.”

“Well then you’ll have to hold things off till you find him a new set of records.”

“Ugghh. I knew you were going to say that.”

The back and forth with these two seemed to make the distance disappear. And, if that song really was their guiding tone home, then they were already close to their destination. And that meant sentimentality had to be stifled. He’d have to come up with a plan to get in and the reactor back out. Or… or do something more permanent.

Micha still didn’t know what they fully wanted with it. Rezz had said they could revive their fleet before, and if that meant a lot more mechs like hers it was not good. That kind of firepower…

It was too much.

But something else nagged at him about their wants. This was too simple minded. Not something worked for or expected. It was a personal goal. They needed it, but weren’t looking for it. Whatever the truth was he’d learn it soon enough. His little bit of blue sky was being taken away by shadows flashing by. And the road was way too smooth to be anywhere but already there.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“fff- You’re back already Nieba? What, did Highmark get in over her head again?”

A new voice interrupted the homing signal, some guy laying on the condescension but not quite maliciously.

“Shows what you know Caf! WE found something that's gonna blow your damn mind! So hurry up and buzz us in! And get the commander to. She’ll love this.”

“Alright Rezz, but it’s on you for wasting her time. *vv-vv* This is Cataphract actual, Oka Nieba on inbound RTB. Situation gOLd, and requesting inspection.”

“Confirm Cataphract actual. On approach to South Gate. *vvv* huugh…Moment of truth Rezz.”

“Moment of truth.”

Grates and metal clanked under the laden tires, whirring machines passing as they spooled in patient wait for this obstruction to move along. The armored space vibrated in wafting shift. This path under close watch from other mechs. A megaphone fluttered and spoke a muffled order Micha couldn’t really make out. And an errant step rumbled the shocks as those guarding units shifted stance.

He tried to look out through his sliver of a gap, but found nothing but blank metal and dim light. He looked to the hole he’d opened in the bottom, watching asphalt and demarcations roll by. All until a nice and rather bright “2” filled his view. And much lighter footsteps and clanking took the place of the smoothing down engine.

“The hell’d you do to my armor?!”

A new voice already, gruff and commanding, but not quite as authoritative as he’d pictured this commander. More likely a mechanic. Not a good sign if they’re here to check out the vehicles already. A squealing release of air and hydraulics drew more attention though. The door to the mech hanging off the back.

“Hey, it held up just fine! A few hits on the nose was all they managed! And… maybe a bit of thermobaric scoring. But it’s just paint!”

“It’s not just paint!! That coating is priceless!!”

“Well then tell that to the Ferals! They’re the ones shooting at it!”

“They wouldn’t be if you bothered to slow down and think!! Its meant to bounce radar not cannons!!”

“Yeah yeah yeah! And while I’m taking a step every hour what do you think they’ll be doing huh!? There’s no point in hiding like that if they can just follow the foot deep footprints! And besides, it’s better if we deal with those fucking frogs out right already!! All the better for the next team in!!”

“Bah! …See if you can talk some sense into her ma’am.”

An air permeated pretty quickly as that word went out, a real presence of authority that quieted down all other noise around it. Tightening any slack and putting all at attention whether it was called for or not.

“Alight Highmark, show us what you got! And I swear to god if you called a gold for some useless amenity again, I’m revoking your day pass!”

“I- heh… I can assure you ma’am that this is beyond worth your while!”

“You’re not selling Rezz! Show it! Now!”

“Yes ma’am!!”

The tension mounted to practiced movements and set procedures. A rappel line spooling down and Rezz’s exo suit whirring her over to the door of the trailer. A muffled effort and weight shifting in strained bursts met her as she opened the door.

“Come on, they're waiting.”

“I’m not the one kitted out right now! Ya mind!”

Harsh hurried whispers and ire mounting, the weight on the shocks shifted substantially. Creaking and swaying as excess mass was passed and discharged… and all that tension became something far more daunting.

“Re- you…?”

“Yes ma’am. I did.”

The giddiness was like a volcano wanting nothing but to pop and scream and flood the world in a wave of superheated happiness.

“Hephaestus’s fucking canker sores that’s… That’s the fucking Petunia!”

“Yeah. It is…!”

The silence of authority was deadened by an awe gathering all eyes together as one.

“This… Rezz… This is-“

“Yeah… We can finally do it, commander. We can finally do it.”

A moment of pure dumbstruck. Of impossible becoming possible. Words failing wholesale and everyone gathering to this one singular instance. The sound of Dan disembarking signaling Micha’s best shot at making his move. His radio stowed and depowered, his jacket fixed and pack tied tight. This was his only shot, as all eyes fixated on ‘his’ reactor.

“Now… now wait just a minute. We have to be sure of this. Sergeant Michaels.”

“Ye-Yes ma’am! Now, let it… let it down slowly.”

“It’s alright Sarg, the buffer’s already been dissipated.”

“I don’t fucking care Rezz! Just put the goddamn pocket sun the hell down! Easy.”

The air was a bit colder than Micha expected, the excess heat off the driveshaft covering it up. But this new chill was making that first step out difficult. A mountain nearby or just enough latitude to shift climates. But environs were just distractions, he had to go. Now.

Slipping out one claw at a time, he more or less pulled himself out of the crawl space, trying his best to stay behind the tires and in the shadows. Several pairs of legs crowding the light out and watched on as the mechanic confirmed what was all too clear.

“It… It’s really it. It’s really the P55Z. All this time it was still out there.”

Micha hurried out to behind the trailer, quickly scanning what he’d smuggled himself into. A high wall met him, concrete bereft of comfort or style but more than willing to take a hit. A lip above shadowing him from view, but he could see bits of forms peeking over the edge. Everyone wanted to see this, to know this.

A creeping feeling mixing with slack adverse adrenaline. A dread that this was his old enemy finally getting what they’d wanted after all this time. A dread mixing tighter, resolving that last resort to horrid determination. He had to get it out of their hands. For everyone he cared about and everything he’d sacrificed.

The wall drew farther in, shading more vehicles along its length. And a door along it took all his attention as his only way in. Even breaths honed that tension, pulled him against the wall and out of sight. And centered him to make this chance count. All the while this commander was fighting for the attention trying to be shunned.

“…Lieutenant. I need a full debrief on this, you understand? This is beyond everything we were prepared for! And I need to know for sure-“

“I know ma’am… I know. We weren’t followed. I took care of any resistance. And… and…”

“Save it. You two to my office. That thing to R and D before this base comes to a standstill. And the rest of you, get on!! This is a military installation not a frat house!!”

“Yes Ma’am!!”

An affirmation echoed through the walling concrete, and was muffled as the door slowly closed shut behind Micha’s tail. No thought spared nor questions asked, just a need to get in and press forward. And yet run smack dab into the state of things.

The inside was a stark canvass overfilled with boxes older than should ever be stacked this high. A dank concrete structure supported by steel only lightly rusting. And yet subsumed in a dim drear that choked it up. A single overhead light only just illuminating a short hallway ahead, if it could be called as such, and guiding Micha into a longer path running through this defensive bulwark turned overflowing depot. At least it was a good direction to follow, but also one that could trap him all too easy.

But this linear maze offered its own aid to his secrecy. A low grate caught behind a stack of what looked like MREs, but could honestly be mistaken for defective plush toys in this darkness. A large space perfect for passive air flow and structural integrity. And following nicely further into this hardened facility. A claw offering an improvised screw bit, and the space rather snug but fitted tightly to its moors. The only thing out of place were the barren screw holes and a moldy crate a little too close by. So in the end who was going to look that close.

Gently rasping through the even more confined darkness, Micha advanced on all fours. Slowing his pace and carefully aligning his knees so the metal would not buckle and bang. And outright stopping as voices echoed through to him.

“It’s finally happening!”

The door to the main yard squealed open and let the ordered bustle in, the walls shaking slightly as heavy feet disembarked from their carrier and moved to their garage.

“I know! What do you think they’ll make first?”

A cool breeze rushed alongside and stung his eyes closed, the vent effective and tainted by this overzealous procurement.

“I don’t know, but it better… better be-”

“What? Better be what?”

A snagging tension, a caught motion, a fear of compromise crashing from inside. And no hope but to wait out and pray that-

“ACHOOOO!!! Uggghhh! Why do we have to keep all this crap!?”

“Eh it’ll be fertilizer or something. Let’s just hurry.”

“Hggh yeah. Fuck this place.”

A thankful heart slowed to the distancing footsteps. And a thankful lack of a nose to bear the mold and mildew saw to his nerves. The Green would have no competition for his lungs, but his eyes still needed a good rub and cleaner air. So Micha pressed on, and hoped for the best.

Soon the wall’s muffling force dimmed away, and the main structure proper added its own tenor. A softened bustle and effort and menagerie of order. The vents parallel became vents under foot. Peeks up at the surface were shadowed by more wood and metal and storage galore. This place filled to its brim and yet felt so fallow.

More a home for a tamer strain of Green than place of wealth. Though it looked to be more munitions than anything else. Shells as big as his torso lined dark walls. Boxes, braced and hardy, bore rounds in excess. Magazines and casings and gunpowder stores. A war chest insurmountable and yet easily circumvented. As their food seemed rather… lacking. A military runs on its stomach and this one seemed to be cutting it close to starvation.

Winding through the maze of air flow and voyeuristic enabling, Micha searched. Holding tight as his hide away clanked from steps above and voices close. Poking his head near to spy on what he was undermining.

Offices turned short order duty stations. Radios buzzing and squawking. More storage rooms and hallways and hallway storage rooms. Wasting away his time and energy as dust and dead ends greeted him at every turn. Proper ventilation infrastructure stopping his progress, though only by virtue of rusted shut pushers and vertical paths he was not keen on ascending.

But soon enough, the atmosphere shifted into an even starker presentation. White walls and hermetic seals, glass and airlocks separating something from the outside world. Even the vents were cleaner and less taxing to traverse, but wholly blocked off in return. A pristine fan and lock baring further intrusion. And a feeling like it was better not to break that seal just out of sheer pity. It was hard to say definitively what was beyond, but it was clear he’d found his objective.

The letters “R n D” scrawled on a piece of plastic over top just making it official. And making that determination waver to life.