[center][color=fdc68a][h1]Chapter 4:
[u]Facility[/u][/h1][/color]
[img]https://imgur.com/tif6VEH.jpg[/img]
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As the dust began to finally settle over the battlefield and deposited on the mechs as a thin grey layer, the sound of gunfire and laser discharges finally died down. Now Ulrik found himself left with this own thoughts, the sound of blood rushing in his veins, and the quick reports from his pilots. The black vignette of adrenaline that had obscured so much of his vision as he faced down the barrel of an AC 20 slowly faded away, and he could finally, [i]finally[/i] let out a deep sigh that he had been cradling this entire fight in his chest. It was almost unbelievable that they didn't lose even a single mech: the worst injury was Fuka's Dragon, and though damaged it could still stand on it's two legs. If this was the Succession Wars... A single drop of sweat ran down his temple, dragging a painful line across his skin. His glove creaked loudly as his fingers tightened their grip on the joystick. A single exasperated breath as his eyes darted across the sensor readouts.

[b]THUNK[/b]

Hitting the side of his neurohelmet with a hearty slap, Ulrik dragged himself back into reality, kicking and screaming if he had to. No point in dwelling on the past. He cleared his throat as the silent static of his comrade's reports came back into focus, each word soon enough as clear as daylight. 

Clearing his throat, he adjusted the neurohelmet on his head, the Centurion shaking lightly as a result. [color=f7941d]"Noted Hamazasp. I'm sure the MechTechs will be able to fix it when we get back on the Ankhanne."[/color] There was a short pause before he continued. [color=f7941d]"The way's clear now for the infantry: I'll message the ship and we'll get some boots on the ground. Zohra, Karel, you two get back to the ship and escort the infantry. The rest of us stay and make sure there's no more surprises."[/color] He acknowledged the command with each and every member of his lance, and watched as the two lights mechs darted back off into the canyon, towards the ominous black egg in the distance that was the Ankhanne.

[hr]

[i]-30 minutes later-[/i]

The wait had given them enough time to move the wreck of the Hunchback out of the way with the combined efforts of their mechs, but a recovery vehicle would be needed at a later date to haul it back to the Ankhanne. Something to do in the few days they had before their taxi arrived back in the system. He was busy clearing out the rest of the wrecks when the radio crackled up once again, and the familiar voices of Zohra and Karel chimed in, their mechs soon appearing behind the bend in the canyon, a somewhat ancient looking APC in tow. Par for the course, but maybe they could find something else hidden in this base of theirs that wasn't a thousand years old.

[color=f7941d]"Look alive people, we're back in action. Hamazasp, you have the honor of being fire support: the locust can probably fit through these tunnels and discourage any soldiers left in the facility from doing something stupid: but I doubt these pirates want to fight much after their loss. The rest of you, if you don't feel comfortable holding a sidearm, you can stay here and keep watch: we don't want any surprises whilst we comb the inside of the facility."[/color] The rumbling of the Centurion slowly came to a halt as Ulrik began to power down his mech, shutting off panels and switches whilst he wrestled his respirator out of it's cabinet. [color=f7941d]"If you're coming, grab your respirators and meet me at the gate."[/color] With one last rattle of the joystick to make sure the Centurion was truly powered down, Ulrik placed the respirator over his face, adjusting the straps and checking the seal before he popped the cockpit open.

The low gravity of the moon made the climb down his mech a simple exercise, and he landed on the ground in a cloud of misty grey and brown dust. Watching the battlefield from the human scale made everything feel so much bigger and much more personal: one can so easily forget what it feels like to have boots on the ground when they pilot a giant fighting machine.

Surely the infantry from the Ankhanne felt the same: their small group of a dozen or so soldiers made their way quickly across the barren landscape in short hops and jumps, as if a bird was ready to swoop them up if they stayed outside for too long. At the very least their gear seemed far superior to their vehicle: shiny new blue Rasalhague uniforms and refurbished Kurita armor as far as Ulrik could tell, not too dissimilar from what he himself worse when he first enlisted. For a moment he felt right at home as he saw the other grunts, but his place wasn't with the infantry anymore. Picking up the pace to dash across the short sprint between his mech and the hangar, he soon found himself in the company of the infantry, standing at the precipice of the ominous hangar from which the Hunchback emerged. 

Inside the klaxons were still blaring, informing the the staff about a breach and loss of atmosphere. Surely if there were mechanics in the hangar they'd be pretty scared right about now, but it seemed like everyone with a good head on their shoulders left at the first sight of trouble. Tools still laid discarded on the floor, and it seemed like whatever they were doing here before Ulrik's company landed was pretty important: dozens if not hundreds of crates laid abandoned on forklifts and cranes, ready to be either transported or their contents unloaded: whatever the purpose they'd find out soon enough.

[hr]
[center][h2] Debrief [/h2][/center]

Combat is over for the time being, so it's just the facility left still. A little bit of a preamble in this post, but I can promise the next post will be just one long description/story: it won't take us 20 years to finish this one encounter haha.

I just mostly need to know what everyone is choosing to do, so I can tie that into the next post. I don't expect big posts for this one :)

[@Letter Bee][@Psyker Landshark][@AndyC][@Smike][@Abstract Proxy][@QJT][@Starlance]