General > Graveyard
Long Goodbye - CthulhuTech PBF- IC
Gargulec:
Morning Patrol
'...High Command still refuses to comment on this glaring example of racism in the organization we considered to be free of this petty flaw.'
News broadcast was only slightly more interesting than the landscape that surrounded you, as your mecha strolled along the cracked asphalt road. Rolling hills dotted with occasional grooves and ruins in various states of decay maybe was picturesque but certainly got really old really fast- especially after three fruitless hours on patrol.
'Will Droya case become the Dreyfus affair of Aeon War? Only time will tell. That was Joan Fergusson of Global News Network'
The programme ended, and soft sounds of nazzadi music filled the cockpits of your mecha. Radio accompanied soldiers- and plitos- everywhere they went, thanks to the ubiquitous satellite uplinks, standard in all machines of war. Many veterans joked that this voice from afar, from the land of civilians did better job keeping them sane than all army psychologists combined. As you observed morning slowly turning into noon, and literally nothing happening, you started to agree with them.
When reckon drone brought the data that indicated migou activity in the region of your base, your first thought was the the war finally found you. Well, no one can remain on the second line forever these days, and you spent almost a year now being sitting ducks in Karski Base, proudly named outpost that has not seen any real action since the end of the First Arcanotech War.
At any rate, after a week of tense waiting, no attack came. No patrol sighted even a single bug soldier or mecha. Whatever they were looking for- if they were at all something more than major reckon screw up, apparently it was not you.
Sun was already pretty hight on the sky, and you were closing to the end of the planned patrol route.
Finally.
Xander Morhaime:
"Almost home now, Kinder. Eyes open now, don't want anything jumping us on our doorstep, ja? Report in by callsigns," lieutenant Thomas Kroenen ordered. The recent transfer was pilotting an imposing Malach-class Engel, the new unit markings still fresh on its armour.
Inside the semi-organic cockpit of the Engel, the lieutenant switched the radio off as soon as the first chords of the latest Nazzadi pop tune came on, turning instead to scanning the surroundings through the eyes of his Malach.
"Why did you have to go turn that off? It didn't sound so bad," came the voice in his head. Faust, his Malach-class Engel, and Thomas had somewhat different tastes in music.
"Didn't fight a war against those Kohlen to just sit and listen to that wailing now," Kroenen replied through the same mind-link which his machine used to speak to him. "Maybe this time once we're back at base I can give you some *proper* music to listen to..."
Aerdan:
"Jeez. You'd think that if they were going to show up on the drones there'd be some action around here..." Adolf Hertz muttered, switching his cockpit radio over to a popular neorock station.
Hertz had drawn left flank this patrol run, so his external cameras were all oriented appropriately. He, too, was a recent transfer, though he'd been piloting mecha for several years now.
"Wolf reporting. Nothing sighted so far."
S.K. Ren:
"This is Ravager. That is a negative on enemy sightings." replied Second Lieutenant Mecha Pilot Asura. Despite the lack of activity, he rather enjoyed his patrols. It was more exciting that just sitting around in the barracks or back at his flat. And should anything happen, all more entertaining.
Bringing up the rear was both the safest and the most dangerous place to guard, depending on your enemy. However, for Asura, it was the best place to strike from should combat erupt.
ZZ:
"Lightning reporting in. Nothing spotted." - replied Raziny. She was almost sure that nothing bad can happen. That wasn't her first patrol going like this and she was used to disbelieve in the need of mission. But orders are orders and she can't disobey them. At least she is told so.
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