Charly watches, dumbfounded, as the last two bandits run off. She hadn't expected it to work. She expected them to all be dead now.
What now?
Lloyd's call over the lance's comms brings her back to reality.
"Do you want Lloyd and I to scout ahead in case they have another surprise planned," Charly asks.
Lapeidra pushes her mech forward in pursuit of the retreating Phoenix Hawk. "No, they need to remember us. These aren't mercs, they're cold-blooded pirates. Each one of these men is a killer without honor or remorse. They need to think real f@#@ing hard before they cross us again."
Lapeidra opens up the global comm channel again. "You didn't listen. I said if you flee you might live. Now you're outgunned two-to-one and you can't outrun us. If you stop and surrender you will not be killed. This is your last chance to see tomorrow."
She triggers her PPC into the back of the Phoenix Hawk as she walks to keep pace.
Charly turns towards the fleeing mechs and jumps into the air once more. She quickly undoes the commands she put in and starts trying to paint the fleeing mechs.
|
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Jack looks upon the chaos and tumult caused by the two medium/light Steiner scouts. He gives his lancemate a quick mech fist-bump. "We have successfully scouted half of the enemy! But the other half are trying not to be scouted. Obviously we must scout them harder!"
Jack sprints forward, keeping pace with the aloft enemy Hawk. Once the enemy lands he greets it with a mighty fusillade.
"You were told to surrender if you knew what was good for you.
Obviously you and I have a different definition of what is good for you."
He unleashes a close-range assault.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
After observing his lance pursue the retreating bandits, Gunny decides to continue his assault. After all, two Mech’s left unattended, could simply create another situation with the locals being forced back into a slavery. Pushing the Griffin forward, he locks his targeting system onto the Phoenix Hawk. Luckily, the Hawks signature was familiar to his system, seeing he had the Mech dead to rights not so long ago.
After confirming his payload was locked and loaded, he powered up his PPC and once again fired both weapons simultaneously. The electricity of the PPC burst out of the residual smoke left behind by the LRM launcher. The combination of the two created an interesting visual effect. Once again, after the smoke cleared, he could tell his shout was, well, at least heading in the right direction.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
JA! HIER IST NOCH SO VIEL MEHR AUFKLÄRUNG ERFORDERLICH!
..Yes! SO MUCH MORE SCOUTING IS REQUIRED HERE!..
Not quite mirroring Jack, partly to keep his heat in check, Markus rushes to -6 and rakes the stricken hawk with mg fire
He belts out of the loudspeakers as his mechs fist punches the phoenix hawk
Did you see that? The idiot thought I would kick him! But I punched him instead, I am a genius!
Markus announces, with a wide shit eating grin and high on adrenaline, over the open coms
Keep focused lance, remaining shadow hawk is still a solid enemy, lets hunt it down in an organized fashion.
Over the teamcoms, his voice is suddenly completely normal again
-2 heat at 2/6
Vikhlas this is stormhammer actual, we took out the bandit thunderbolt, blackjack and are about the crush their phoenix hawk. Will then pursue last remaining mech, still fully functional shadow hawk. We will have... A fair bit of salvage on that battlefield, although much of it will be pretty shot up. No permanent losses on our side, one Panther seriously damaged.
In the same voice, he relays an update to Vikhlas
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
He belts out of the loudspeakers as his mechs fist punches the phoenix hawk
[dice=punch]4d3-8+3
Did you see that? The idiot thought I would kick him! But I punched him instead, I am a genius!
No permanent losses on our side, one Panther seriously damaged.
Grumbling under his breath, Lloyd keeps feeding his lancemates targetting information, going for whichever Charly wasn't painting with her sensors.
"Negative Stormhammer actual. Vikhaus' voice crackles over the comm unit as the bandit Phoenix Hawk erupts in a fireball of lost fusion reactor containment. "The rest of the company is closing fast. You have an over-strength lance of heavies converging on your position. Our latest surveillance pass shows a Warhammer, Marauder, Archer, and a Battlemaster supported by a couple of mediums on the flanks. Several blips appear on HUD's marking the new potential targets just beyond the nearest ridge int he direction the enemy Shadow Hawk continues to retreat. Still out of sight, but closing rapidly. "You've put one hell of a dent in them, but that bunch outweighs you by over a hundred and fifty tons. You can't hold the field and I can't get reinforcements there soon enough. If only the Hussars hadn't bungled..." Frustration and anger spill across the airwaves for a moment before Vikhaus pauses and gathers her cool. "Grab what you can and get to the evac point."
A flurry of long range missiles fly from the fleeing Shadow Hawk as it leaps through the trees in the direction of the enemy reinforcements.
Lapeidra shakes her head, incredulous. She thumbs the comm channel on to her lance mates. "These are pirates?? Most planets don't have that much hardware! A Battlemaster?? On this backwater puddle? What the hell is going on here?"
She watches the Shadowhawk run away and realizes she can't catch it in time.
Gunny bringing the Griffin slowly to a stop. After relocating the extraction point, he keys his radio to the lance’s personal channel. “Sounds like we are extracting. Extraction will be where we left the Commando. Let’s group up and head out.” Gunny holds his position until the lance is cohesive, then he sets course for the extraction point.
"Lapeidra," Charly's voice comes quietly over the private circuit between their mechs. "I don't think we can win this one."
"I can see that. I'll be happy to get off this crazy pirate fortress."
GM, at this point, do you require any rolls to evade, or do we have enough of a head start to assume we can outmaneuver those heavies?
Lloyd looks over the new contacts and makes some quick mental calculations.
"Ready to get out of here now?" He can't help but have a bit of a bite in his voice. "I don't want to get anywhere close to that kind of firepower. Maybe we can grab something quick on our way but if you try to drag that Thunderbolt back I'm leaving you behind."
|
|
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Jack yops in supreme frustration as the news comes down that they must needs exfil AND will not be allowed to claim that which is rightfully theirs.
"I came for a Thunderbolt and IMMA GETTING A THUNDERBOLT!" he cries. To describe the emotion that he had for getting a T-bolt was beyond something as trivial as greed. This is beyond mere avarice. This was -curiosity-. He *envisioned* himself in a big, slow, lumbering heavy mech. He wanted it, he desired it he...thirsted for it. The promise of such had lifted him from a fugue sublime and now NOW he is to be denied upon the MOMENT of TRIUMPH?
This canst not be.
But how H0W? How to pull the weight? With D00m most foul creeping along how to bring his prize? To drag it would invite death and one must needs breach the core now and be done with it. Perhaps a power boost? Yes. A boost. But to the Angel? Would it work could it work might it work must it work....
Perhaps the Angel is not the mech that must needs be boosted....
"I promised you a Thunderbolt, Jack, and I'm not one to renege on a promise!" Lapeidra shouts over the comms. She pairs up with Jack's Hawk and grabs a hunk of the heavy mech that seems to be connected solid and hefts it in the direction of the evac.
Her servos groan, the Panther outweighed two-to-one, but with effort she manages to assist the drag of their prize.
No Such thing as free salvage
|
|
Jack's eyes go wide as Lapeidra heaves the heavy mech with apparent ease, the over-powered Panther's engine sliding the large feet of the Thunderbolt along like a custom-made sledge in the grimy muck.
Casually he tosses off his half-cocked scheme and lends a hand, his light/medium trying to keep up with the leading heavy/light.
Charly helps where she can.
lending the added weight of the Griffin to the process, Gunny also does what he can to assist with collecting the remains of the defeated Mechs.
Grumbling to himself about how his lancemates are going to get themselves killed at this rate, Lloyd throws his little Wasp intot he salvaging task, trying to get the group moving as quickly as possible before more enemies arrived.
Operation Flyswatter
Anti-Rimword Periphery
Stettin System
Cedarville Copper Mine
1 May 2950
The bandit Shadow Hawk continues to retreat back toward his approaching reinforcements. Taking advantage of the narrow window of opportunity before the unusually heavy assortment of battlemechs come stomping over the ridge, the Stormhammers grab what they can from the fallen and make their own burdened retreat.
Although weighed down by the heavy Thunderbolt and the medium Blackjack the newly formed mercenary company is still able to outpace an enemy more designed for pummeling enemies, not chasing them down.
Arriving at the ruined remains of the old Cedarville spaceport, the mechwarriors find the place a beehive of activity as those rescued from the mine are just finishing the loading of their few goods and belongings while the dropship crew does their best to create enough space to load the company's working mech along with the surprising amount of salvage. Fortunately, Dropship Captain Tsong is a bastion of efficiency. Upon hearing Markus' first word about the salvage he began ordering techs to clear away non-essential gear and start cutting out walls.
By the time the Stormhammers arrive, Tsong is busy waving his arms and cursing at a pair of techs dumping a pair of bulky coolant tanks into a pile of other scrap and bits of the hollowed out ship.
"...are we supposed to cool the weapons systems?" The final few words of Tsong's frustrated fuming rolls across the sloppy, cratered tarmac.
"This bucket don't have weapons sir." Says the first tech to the vigorous nods of the second.
"It's true Captain, you told us to get those forward and aft mounts working, but that old Sunspot PPC is a total wreck. I'd guess that thing hasn't been fired in over twenty years."
"It's true sir, most of the wiring's plum rotted away or been eaten by rats."
"I don't know who them mechwarriors bought this thing off of, but those weapons were just for show. Ain't nothing there to save." He punctuates his point by holding up a typical focusing crystal, commonly housed in laser systems across the inner sphere. But unlike the clear, smooth, glassy surface of a working crystal, this one is blackened and pitted. He crushes it in his gloved hand. "Every damned one of the laser crystal are burnt out trash. Not one in the lot worth keeping."
The captain sighs, waves his hands in understanding before running them through his thinning dark hair. "Fine, fine. I see your assessment of the situation is correct. Let's just hope we don't have to fend off any enemy fighters anytime soon."
He turns as the familiar rumble of approaching battlemechs emerge from the nearby woods. Moments later Lapeidra's battered Panther emerges. The Canopian having led a winding path through the forest better suited to the more agile lighter mechs verses their heavy pursuers. Moments later, Jack, Gunny, Markus, Charly, and Lloyd appear, burdened with salvage.
"Best get to it." The captain says before hurrying to greet the returning mechwarriors. "And maybe some of this stuff can pay for some new weapons." He mutters to himself before offering a quick hand in greeting to his employers.
"A fine haul!" He calls out to the first to dismount from the sweltering heat of their mech cockpit. "Perhaps too much success." Tsong adds with a troubled glance back toward his small dropship.
With double the usual personnel onboard due to the rescued civilians and an additional 100 tons of mech hardware, something was going to have to give else they weren't getting off the ground.
Lapeidra drops her Panther to one knee and opens the canopy, gulping breaths of humid air. She hasn't started to shake yet, but it will come soon once the adrenaline curves out and the reality of the raw experience hits her. But for the moment she remains clear-headed enough to scowl at the problem of the Last of Nine's undersized mech bay.
She turns to Charly and Jack and blurts out, "Who says a mech has to be inside the ship? Lash one or two under the dorsal struts and we'll figure it out at the next spaceport. And if we can't get off the ground maybe we can rig their jump jets to fire with ship's thrusters for a propulsion boost. Whatever we do we need to act fast."
Leaving the problem in more capable hands she heads off to find Deigo.
Charly looks to Jack and asks, "Engines or cargo first?"
Gunny brings the Griffin parallel with the dropship, but stays mounted knowing that his Mech is likely going to be needed to situate the heavy amount of salvage that just got hauled in. Opening his mic to the lance’s channel, he announces his intent. “Standing by with the Griffin if you need a hand moving any of this stuff.”
Lloyd shakes his head at Lapeidra's suggestion. "If we were taking off of some airless rock we might be able to fix something on the hull, but there's plenty of atmosphere here to mess up any kind of takeoff with two very much non-aerodynamic lumps of metal stuck on the outside."
He looks over at the techs to confirm his analysis. "Are those pirates headed for us...? If they're not, we could maybe strip down one of the Wasps and leave it behind. We may just have to leave one behind in either case, it'd just be better if we could strip out the guns at least..."
He trails off and turns to his sensors, trying to see if the heavier BattleMechs are headed their way or for the mine or even somewhere else.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
When they first captured Deigo a couple hours ago Lapeidra had no expectation that the Last of Nine would be a shelter to a group of rescued hostages and their meager but not unsubstantial belongings. It occurred to her now that allowing Deigo to mix freely with his victims was a terrible outcome.
She tracks him down outside the ship, away from the others and out of view of the refugees. She has at least a few minutes while the engineers in the group figure out how to cram the salvage into the Leopard.
"You can't be seen by the refugees," she says bluntly. "Look, at the end of the day we're all mechwarriors for hire. I think the best way to honor our deal is to keep you in the crew quarters and out of sight. We'll find a bunk for you.
"But listen, I need more information. What's really going on here? You saw that Thunderbolt we took down; another half dozen heavies were right behind it. You've got a Marauder, a Battlemaster! What the hell is so special about this soupy backwater planet that your group has that much firepower ready to go?"
|
|
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Charly looks to Jack and asks, "Engines or cargo first?"
Jack has to stand silent for a bit, his brain organizing much data, and he had little power to spare for such frivolities as talk or motion.
At last, at long last, it appeared that, yes, all the things could go on the single ship. What happened after that? That was a different problem for a different time. A time quite soon, just as the left atmo, in fact, but still different.
"Cargo," Jack says, at last answering Charly. "I don't actually want to remove the engines on the dropship, but I guess that's always a possibility," he says, mistranslating her question, and in one motion admiring her forethought for seeing that the engines were also a thing that could be removed. Admirable.
"I'm going to cut away that retaining wall!" Jack yells, stomping into the tumult of techs and cargo like an infantry commander yells at his regiments to form squares and receive charge.
"Yes, Captain Tsong, I know it "says" it's a supporting wall," he says, throwing up dynamic "air" "quotes" with his fingers, "but that's want they want you to think! I'll cut it in a dynamic arc and reinforce the stress points, it'll be fine. We won't be holding any grand balls in the cargo bay any time soon, but that is for a later time."
He had heard some rumblings concerning the well-being of that Deigo character, but now that we had his mech, the future of the meat-thing meant little to him.
He got to work cutting away formerly-important structures and shoving in the looted metal machines as quickly as he could.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Seeing that Jack is busy with the cargo, Charly mulls things over for a moment before grabbing her tools and heading up to the engine bays. They couldn't be that different from jumpjets, right?
Operation Flyswatter
Anti-Rimword Periphery
Stettin System
Cedarville Copper Mine
1 May 2950
Lloyd's sensor begin to ping about ten minutes after he starts sweeping the area back toward the mine and the retreat through the forest. His findings are quickly confirmed by the Last of Nine's own sensor suite.
"Incoming hostiles forces. ETA ten minutes." The sensor tech's voice blares over the ship and inter unit comms. "Captain Tsong, please report to the bridge."
Tsong turns to Jack and gives the mechwarrior a firm nod. "You heard him." He says. Negotiation and delay do not seem to be an option as he glances toward the remaining mechs and equipment still outside the ship. "You've got eight minutes to get what you want aboard and stowed. Any longer and this bucket likely doesn't get off the ground under the firepower you lot said this Hutton is carrying."
Another ex-Capellan like Charly, Tsong is a bit of a taciturn, pain in the neck at times who often seems to put the ship before the people it carries across the stars. But somehow he'd managed to keep the Last of Nine flying over the last thirty years and not another soul on board knows the old Leopard better than Tsong. And although the sight of Jack's cutting torch carving through the innards of his beloved shift clearly causes him pain, he did not object. Instead he gives a stoic nod of understanding and perhaps even hesitant approval as the extra passengers are quickly hustled aboard and through the still smoldering cavity.
With no one willing to face over 300 tons of firepower, efforts are redoubled to get everything on board. Shauna and her crew provide valuable and appreciated assistance getting mechs lashed to anything strong enough to keep them from shifting during flight, while Jack and Gunny guide the remaining lights into one of the mech bays.
Lloyd's mech is just being strapped down and the bay doors closing when Tsong's voice announces preparation for emergency liftoff. Moments later the rumble of the ships engines rattles through the Last of Nine[i] along with the all too familiar percussion of long range warheads exploding nearby. For a few seemingly eternal seconds nothing further seems to happen and then the rattle and rumble as the Leopard class dropship picks up speed on the crumbling runway of the ancient Cedarville Spaceport. More missile explosions that kick a bit of dirt and concrete through the bay door just before it closes and then the stomach lurching swoosh of liftoff and the deafening boom of the engines throttled to full power.
Fortunately, only a few minor items go tumbling through the various open areas. A wrench here, a bit of burnt armor there, a half spent machine gun magazine sliding from the broken remains of the pulverized [i]Thunderbolt.
Lapeidra kicks aside the Free World's labeled ammo cartridge as she catches up with Deigo nursing a broken nose and black eye in the ship's tiny brig. The secure area is really just a former envirosystems supply closet that still reeks of some of the biochems used to supply and clean the ships air.
"It's a little late for that." The former bandit mechwarrior says dabbing an already blood soaked rag at the cut along his forehead. "Shauna spotted me just after the ship landed. I was so surprised to see her ugly mug she slipped me a couple of quick sucker punches before I could do anything." There's slight whistle to his speech now. Probably the result of the loose tooth he keeps poking at with his tongue. "Weren't for that little guy...Tso...Tsong...she'd probably killed me. He stuck me in here. Said it was for my own good until you lot got back."
Leaning his head back against the wall, he closes his eyes and sighs. "He's probably right."
When Lapeidra mentions Hutton and his well equipped outfit, Deigo gives a quick shrug of his shoulders. "I ain't been with the outfit for long. That's why I was stuck in that p.o.s. Griffin with some backstabbing civvies as lancemates."
"All I know is that we were supposed to dig here, dig there, scour any old comps we could get working for any kind of records. Rumors were all about an old Star League stash somewhere in system." He sighs again. "We didn't find squat except a lotta rain and lotta mud."
"As for where Hutton gets his firepower. I haven't the slightest idea. But you prove yerself and git good in god's graces, then you find yourself piloting one of them nice shiny new big boys." Another shrug. "Til then you get stuck up front in the crap. 'Soak up their ammo and prove your worth my time.' The bastard would always say and then laugh." A shiver runs through his body.
Gunny spends most of the ride in deep thought about important things, at least until it comes time to debrief. (A shot of whisky and a cigar.) He thinks outload while sitting back with a smile.
Whenever you find your way to your rack, you also find Charly pacing back and forth in front of the door muttering to herself.
Whenever you get done talking to Diego and make your way back to your room, you see Charly pacing back and forth in front of the door.
Lloyd, once his 'mech is safely stowed, makes his way to the ship's sensor station, wondering if he might be able to get a sight of something that would make this world worth having such a weight of metal on it as they head to orbit.
Inhaling sharply, Lapeidra closes the door. "Tight space you're in here. And there's that smell... of your bullshit!
In a flash of raw fury, her fist slices through the stagnant air and crashes into Deigo's face.
She stands her ground and flexes her fingers, ready for him if he comes at her. "You're a pathetic shit stain, Deigo, and the only reason you're not already dead is because you had something we wanted. But you don't get to stay on this ship rent free, so either I'm going to take it out of your ass or you can give me better information than that boring story you just tried to sell me. Everything you know about Hutton, for starters, then a full manifest of his force on that planet and exactly where he's holed up."
She steps into a fighting stance, her Academy training kicking in hard. "Let's go. You can talk and eat my fists at the same time. The more truth you tell the sooner we're done."
|
|
Jack got to work right away.
His modifications both strengthened and consumed the wall. As he cut away a section to open up the space, the metal so widowed was consumed by his zero-point fire and turned into slag to be slathered on the arc just made. Once it was completed, there was a great reinforcing brace all along the edge of the arc. The wall thusly weighed the same as when he started, but was stronger for it and now took up less space.
It was hot, sweaty work, but when he was done he felt much better about the ability of the space to accommodate what it was asked to do. At least for now. The coming days would need some more creative dance in three dimensions, but if he had his way, something would be canabalized to give its strength to the others, and at least that would make more space.
His work had been observed by some of the new arrivals. In return for a few moments labor fixing someone's vis-capture, and another's whirligig (was it for a child? He hadn't seen one but it was hard to be sure) he found himself the owner of a brimming full bottle of high-octane Chernobyl Cherry and four memorial glasses. He grasped his new prize as he half-stumbled to his private room. He had heard that the officer quarters were supposed to sleep two to a room, but he had already converted half of it into a Bensom forge, so it was too late to cry about it now.
He wasn't really surprised that Charly was pacing in front of his door. Well, it had been a very strange day so little could surprise him at this hour.
He opened his door and brandished the bottle. "Step into my office," he said jokingly.
He put the bottle down on the table that was quite obviously a repurposed foot actuator and filled two cups. He collapsed on the couch and took a sip, letting out a contented sigh.
This was the good stuff.
Charly looks nervously from Jack to the passage a few times before following him in. She sits down, spine ramrod straight, looking for all the world like a Capellan schoolgirl in a tech's coveralls sitting before the headmaster. She doesn't touch her drink for several long moments. The silence stretches out too long before she finally blurts something out.
"I'msorry," she says, someone managing to not tie her tongue in a knot. She shakes her head and tries again. "I'm-- sorry. I said some things at the start of the fight, and I'm... I'm just a stupid idiot that shouldn't have been in the cockpit in the first place."
Vikhlas, this is storm hammer lead, performing evacuation before their heavies show up. Moving to a less contested area to repeair and sort things out. I heard the Jannisarries got a Union? How about we all see if we can barter a bit, and maybe make a new mech or 2 happen out of that?
Markus then moves to oversee the packing in a hopefully efficient way
Note to self, dont make Lapeidra angrier. I personally believe in rapport based interrogation. Need to make sure this is not filmed or recorded.
Markus starts planning to remove any evidence of prisoner mistreatment as he pretends he has no idea what is happening.
With his Mech now locked in its bay, Gunny finally had a chance to exhale. Standing back about ten feet from the Griffin, he looked way up, taking a mental note of the Mech’s height. “Shiat, your one big hunk of scrap iron, aren’t you.” He says to the bashed-up Mech as if it could understand him. Then he glanced over his shoulder at his workstation. “Emm, yep, I know there’s one in there somewhere.”
After walking over to the workstation’s cabinet, he reached down and pulled out a half empty bottle of Captain Morgan and a slightly dirty half-glass. After poring the glass half full, he sat the bottle on the bench. Before drinking the wonderful glass of motivation, he began rummaging through a number of drawers. Screwdrivers, pliers, sockets, vice grips, wrenches, and the occasional saw blade got piled up on the floor next to the bench. Then it happened. “Ah, ha, I knew there was one stashed away in here somewhere.” He says in triumph, while pulling out a dust covered stogy from one of grease covered drawers. After holding it up, as if he just struck gold, he bit one of the cigar’s ends off and then lights it up.
Between the tobacco fix and the inebriating drink, Gunny started to feel more than a little relaxed. After taking a deep drag from the stogy, he looked back up at the Griffin. “By the look of things, I suppose I’m going to be putting in a lot of late nights.’
Note to self, dont make Lapeidra angrier. I personally believe in rapport based interrogation. Need to make sure this is not filmed or recorded.
Markus starts planning to remove any evidence of prisoner mistreatment as he pretends he has no idea what is happening.
Hmm, pragmatically speaking, what to do about the Diego problem? He thinks pretending to not see anything for now.
He cannot fight back, so its basically f~!~ing over a prisoner. If he is seriously injured, word will spread, if he is fragged, several people on the lance will have a problem with that which is bad for unit cohesion. Meaning I need to keep the damage to him limited to the "fell down a stairway" level. If I decide to off him I need to do it discretely. His thoughts pause
Probably best to hire a professional for that, assassinations arent my skillset, knowing people and having resources are. He continues
The big thing is that I dont really get to give her orders, if I order her and she refuses its problematic, and people of her skillsets dont grow on f#@+ing trees. Oh, I got an idea.
Vikhlas, Stormhammer lead here, do you have interests in interrogating this Diego, formerly piloting a griffon, and interviewing other conscripted civies that went over to our side? He says loudly, out of vision of the altercation but clearly audible.
|
|
Amongst men you don't ask for forgiveness, you just assumed you are forgiven and then act from there. Maybe buy the guy a beer at some point and build anew. Women always had to talk things out and state the obvious. And take half hour doing it. And they never brought beer.
Jack makes a waving/dismissive motion with his hand to his companion sitting uncomfortably next to him. "Simmer down, simmer down now. We're not there yet. Sit, relax, have a drink," he follows up his suggestion by taking his own advice. While hitting like a Hunchback, the booze both clouded his thoughts and took away his fatigue. Confound, how long had this day gone on? It felt like weeks, months!
He let his eyes close and his head recline softly back against the couch while saying, "Now, begin at the beginning, and tell me why saying all those things was a good idea at the time."
He let his empty hand land reassuring against the other tech's shoulder.
Charly takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, trying to steady her nerves. She picks up the glass with both hands, but it's clear she's still wound tight.
"I-I was mad, and I thought I could have done better and then I just made things worse and then I almost gotmyselfkilledandthenIthoughtwewereallgonnadieandIgotsoscaredthatI--" She clams up and groans as she remembers what during the fight with the heavier lance. She slumps in the chair and squirms a bit as she looks at her knees.
"Lapeidra. I gotta apologize to Lapeidra, too!"