Chapter 4:
Pirate Facility
Acknowledging the dutiful attitude of Karel and Zohra with a quick nod, the two light mechs trod off into the distance as their sole Mech protector was now Hamazasp. The Locust looked like and overgrown metal chicken about to fall over at any moment, but the pounding of its metal feet with every step was surely going to put the fear of god into any pirate still thinking about being a nuisance.
"We're ready to go Lieutenant. Lead the way." Ulrik didn't have the chance to get familiar with the meager infantry contingent accompanying them on the Ankhanne: veterans of the 4th Succession war like him, they mostly kept to themselves on the ship. He had entertained the thought to introduce himself informally, but he knew from his infantry days the mechjockeys and boots usually don't get along on a fundamental level. Perhaps they'll have to make time for it eventually.
As the infantry moved into the gaping maw of the tunnel and Hamazasp's Locust followed them as a giant metallic effigy of death, Ulrik rounded up his pilots and followed the group at a respectable distance. The nascent base slowly whispered century old tales into their ears with every step taken further into the complex. Mechbays of various sizes lined the spacious tunnel on either side, sitting empty and abandoned, with most housing equipment either broken or already stripped for parts, not much use for anyone other than storing the many hundreds of crates laying strewn about the base. Truly a nasty habit of pirates to find the derelicts of the Succession Wars and make a home in them like rats. Some mechbays still had the chipped logo of the Steiner first on their half-opened doors. One could only wonder how many similar systems exist: littered with the corpse of the Star League, a graveyard brought about by the nuclear annihilation of the First Succession War.
By the time they got to the end of the hallway, they must've seen a dozen or so mechbays, most of them inoperable and used as storage units, all with the faint reminders of a Steiner legacy. A few overturned forklifts and broken railings led like a paper trail to a large sealed door heading further west into the compound, the infantry contingent already busy setting up some breaching charges. One-by-one they placed the disc shaped objects onto the door, and then scurried away from the blast zone. He too hurried to cover next to one of the grumpier looking marines, a chest-high elevated walkway that ran the length of the last dozen meters between the mech bays and the large door.
The Lieutenant motioned with his hands, and the group lowered their heads in unison as the Locust's hi-beams illuminated the door.
CLICK, CLICK, CLICK-
A thunderous explosion shook the hallway, kicking up a whirlwind of dust and debree all around them as the blasting charges turned the doors into beautiful petals of a flower, jagged and broken metal edges still shining with bright orange slag. It was only after the brief tinnitus of the explosion faded that a familiar sound seeped through from the other side of the door: the sound of engines.
"Contact!" One of the marines yelled just as a bright red beam swept across the open doorway and narrowly missed decapitating the man as he ducked behind cover. That was all the encouragement the other marines needed to open fire through opening, and clearing the way for Hamazasp's Locust to get a clear shot.
Steeling his courage, Ulriks scooted closer behind the walkway he used as a berm, and as the parties exchanged fire he peeked around the corner.
Through the opening he saw a gargantuan hangar occupied by a Leopard, currently being boarded by what seemed to be the last of the pirate forces. Retreating into cover to avoid a salvo from a particularly defiant pirate who soon received a tenfold answer from the pirates, he unleashed a few bullets from his pistol just for old times' sake. By the time he felt it safe to look back, the ramp of the Leopard was already closing, and the marines felt it time to push through the breach and try to take down the giant beast before it left. With another red flash of light, this time they weren't so lucky, and like a crimson lance the laser impaled the right side of a marine as he fell to the ground. Before he could even hit the floor in the low gravity, two of his comrades had already grabbed onto him to move him to cover, firing their weapons with one hand.
A smell of burnt plastic and tar snuck its way into his nostrils as the heavy DropShip began to gently lift off the ground and burn the tarmac of the hangar. Even with the Locust's laser unloading a few promising salvos into it's right engines, the lumbering brick sailed out of the hanger through a gate the offered an unparaleled view into the massive crate upon the rim of which the base was built. Clutching his autopistol in one hand, Ulrik let off the rest of the bullets in his magazine into the Leopard that was slowly becoming smaller and smaller in the distance, an escort of familiar VTOLs following the vessel as it disappeared over the horizon.
The entire firefight didn't last longer than a minute or so, and yet the mess left behind felt like the site of a major skirmish: pirate bodies taken out with expert marksmanship or the brutish efficiency of mech-sized weaponary laid strewn across the hangar floor, supplies, crates and tools haphazardly abandoned and toppled over once the pirates realized they were about to be set upon.
"Ankhanne to Alpha Lance Leader, we have a bogey on ascent, do you copy?" The headset crackled to life, and Ulrik drew his ire-filled attention away from the distant black sky and clutched the radio on his chest with one hand.
"Read you load and clear, we just missed the party." Static took over the channel as he paused for a moment and motioned for the rest of his gallant foot-lance to gather up inside the hangar whilst the marines got busy treating their injured comrade and securing the perimeter. Taking the second to look around the hangar again, it truly made him any any other hangar he's been in before feel insignificant: a whole platoon of Atlases could probably fit if they wanted to hold a Steiner scout party. Quickly switching the comm channels so the rest of his lance and marines could listen in, he continued.
"Can you get a reading on where they're headed? Any bases our scan missed?""That won't be necessary Comamnder. We just picked up an engine signature. Something is leaving the planet's shadow. They must've been hiding from scanners when we first arrived." Well shit, there go any plans of catching the rest and getting some answers. If they had a DropShip, then there's no point in sending a rustbucket like the Ankhanne after it just to get shot to pieces. If they filled up the Leopard, that was at least another lance of 'mechs they'd have to contend with.
"Roger, keep me updated Ankhanne, we'll inform our Raslhague contacts when they pick us up."Without delay the channel sprung to life again, but after a brief pause only static could be heard. A slight shuffle and an inaudible curse later the gruff sound of the captain replaced the comms officer.
"This is Götz. I'm afraid that won't be possible Commander. I checked three times to make sure it wasn't the faulty ventilation of this rustbucket slowly poisoning me, but scans indicate it's a JumpShip. No matching ComStar ID, probably a Scout or a stripped Invader Class." What kind of pirates have their own JumpShip?
"Thank you Götz. Keep us updated when our friends leave the system, I'm sure Mimir will be interested." As concerned looks began to fill the faces gathered in the hangar, walked over to some of the crates left behind in haste by the pirates and squat down besides them to give them a good look. Most identifiable markings on them have been scratched off or painted over so many times that he'd need a mech laser to get it off, but after a little more investigating he finally found one where the paint was still fresh and easy to peel. Slowly the original owner of the crate revealed itself, and Ulrik couldn't help but groan in disapproval: once again, the familiar iron gauntlet of the Lyran Commonwealth could be seen shining through.
Perhaps the Lyrans didn't abandon this planet after all. That, or the pirates had some powerful supporters.
"Great... I suppose we might as well see what's inside." Waving over the rest of the lance and using a prybar found by one of the corpses, with a joint effort they managed to pry off the lid and the heavy metal slab landed on the hangar floor with a loud clang.
Mech parts. High quality cargo for lowly pirates like these, but perhaps not surprising that even they need spare parts. However, as they began to open more and more of the crates, and like a dinosaur fossil the parts of the mech came together, albeit missing a few important components either taken by the pirates or hidden in other crates, it seemed like none of the parts were from anything he had ever seen or even heard about. After the getting an ancient DropShip barely fit to fly, now they were fighting vehicles and mechs not seen for at least 400 years. Perhaps not that surprising: everything worth taking was already shipped back home by the Kuritans and Steiners when they left this part of space. Hopefully Elena could make sense of all the scraps they were finding.
"Ankanne, get a transport ready, we have cargo to haul back home." Addressing his lance over the radio and pulling those in the hangar with him closer, he continued.
"Job's well done. I'm sure our Rasalhague contacts will be happy. Let's get these crates loaded up, we'll have plenty of time to see what's in them once we're in the safety of the Ankhanne's pressurized hangars."
@Psyker Landshark@AndyC@Smike@Abstract Proxy@QJT@Starlance
