This wasn't the first time Nancy had been in a dive bar in a small town, but it was the first time she'd been this careless. She knew better than to go alone, but she had. Don't drive your Mech into said town drawing extra attention to yourself, but she did. And don't frequent the same place too many times in a row, but the Black Barrel distilled their own whiskey, aged 12 years, and it was magical. So rules be damned.
But you don't get to be an old merc without picking up basic observation skills. Jake the bartender, always solid and steady working with a rowdy crowd, suddenly had a hand tremor while setting her drink in front of her. Two strangers by the door that slipped out shortly afterwards... civilian clothes but military boots.
"Jake, what's that dusty bottle over there? I can't even make out the label."
"Uhhh...", Jake seemed surprised that he had been spoken to. "It's a special batch."
"Really? What's special about it Jake?" Nancy asked earnestly, flashing her 1000-watt smile.
Whatever Jake was nervous about seemed to melt away as he put down the glass he was cleaning and moved down the bar to stand right across from her. Placing his elbows on the bar he leaned in closer, and spoke almost conspiratorially.
"Aged twenty years, and it's been in that bottle for another 8." "No!" Nancy interrupted.
"Oh yeah," Jake continued, standing up straighter and grinning from ear to ear. "There was only ever a single barrel, and the other bottles from it are long gone. But the barrel itself is the real secret. My father paid a small fortune to have it imported from Terra."
"Are you serious?"
"A genuine charred-hoke whiskey barrel"
"Hoke?"
Jake concentrated for a moment, "No, not hoke, oak. Charred-oak, that's it! The real thing."
This was taking forever. "That's amazing, can I see it?" Jake proudly took the bottle off the shelf, handling it gingerly. It was as if he didn't even want to disturb the layer of dust on the bottle. As he set it down in front of her, she pulled the Nakjima laser pistol from her poncho and rested the barrel on the edge of the bar, pointed straight at Jake's chest.
He noticed her face before he saw the gun, the feigned interest completely gone and replaced with a hard edge and cold, barely-restrained fury.
"They threatened my family Nancy, they said they'd kill them all and me last," Jake spoke softly with contrition. He recognized that his life hung in the balance.
"How many are out there?" Nancy growled. Her left hand smoothly capturing the bottle and placing it carefully into an inner pocket of her poncho. Jake watched with a pained expression but didn't protest.
"How many?" Nancy prodded again.
"None" Jake said quickly. Nancy shifted the gun slightly. Jake hurriedly continued, "I mean, not soldiers. They're sending mechs. They said they wanted to see you die in your Catapult." Jake hung his head, unsure if his honesty would be accepted in the spirit it was given.
"No one leaves here for the next couple hours Jake," Nancy ordered. "Do you fully understand what I'm telling you?"
Jake nodded urgently, "I understand Nancy, no one leaves."
Maintaining eye contact, Nancy stepped away from the bar and shouldered open the door, stepping into the quiet street. As the door slammed shut Jake noticed a few eyes on him. His exchange with the mercenary had not gone completely unnoticed. As he moved to lock the door, a few patrons started to stand up.
"Next round is on the house," Jake declared, "And the next couple rounds after that." Everyone was smiling now and settling in. Whatever the trouble was, free drinks typically solved it.
***************************
Nancy wasted no time getting back to her Catapult, although it took longer than usual as she took a less obvious route. She moved even more carefully once she arrived, looking for any clue that might reveal an ambush. Eventually trusting to speed and the beckoning safety of her heavy Mech, she made the run. There was no attack, and her nerves began to unwind slowly as the cockpit canopy slid closed over her. She knew she wasn't safe yet, but the comfort of the mechs start sequence lifted her spirits considerably.
The immediate sensor ping dashed her hopes of a clean escape. Having parked her Mech on the north side of town, she was getting a single radar return from the woods to the south, which was exactly the direction she needed to go. She had just barely made it to her Catapult in time, the enemy Mech would be in weapons range in moments. The nagging question was where were the other mechs? Behind her?
Time to worry about that later. Fortunately, Nancy knew this little town well and immediately jumped onto an office building that provided a clear view of the forest to the south and gave her a little cover as well. Spotting the enemy Mech moving quickly through the woods she launched a salvo from the twin LRM-15 racks but it was a hasty shot with no effect.
The next half minute consisted of jumping to various rooftops while cycling new LRM's through the launchers as quickly as possible. Generally, Nancy never cared how quickly she emptied the ammo bins. She eagerly anticipated the close-range portion of the fight, but it was better to soften them up from a distance first.
Some of her missiles found her target, and she saw armor dropping off the left arm of the Hercules. The enemy pilot was carefully lining up his own shots as he moved through the woods and returned the favor, rocking Nancy's Catapult with fire from the ERPPC and the LB 10-X.
As the Hercules climbed a nearby hill, it punched another huge shot from the ballistic weapon into the Catapult while Nancy's missiles tore up the surrounding trees and missed the Hercules completely. This Mech was a problem. It had long range power similar to her Catapult, and could keep firing long after her bins emptied.
Her next round all missed as well, and she began to move in closer. Maybe she could surprise him and get close enough to kick. The enemy pilot responded quickly though and backed away, continuing to hold the ridge and grab tree cover whenever possible. He had no reason to push forward, that ER PPC could fire indefinitely.
The next half minute was quiet as Nancy searched for an opportunity to press forward, but the Hercules moved with precision, maintaining distance or forcing Nancy to choose an inferior position with an aggressive advance.
Again Nancy jumped back to the roof of a nearby building, caught in mid-flight by the LB autocannon and the PPC, she landed unsteadily but stayed upright. Immediately launching a flight of missiles in return, she guessed her opponents move correctly and almost every missile found the target. The Hercules’ left arm dropped away as ruined scrap.
Nancy felt she was making progress but this fight was about to change, as she had exactly one salvo left before she'd have to move forward quickly and engage at point-blank range. She jumped again, knowing she couldn't stand up to the Hercules full firepower for long at close range. With a sigh of resignation, she launched her last missiles at the Hercules. She focused on her landing as the Hercules’ shots went wide. The missiles once again pounded the left side of the Hercules and to her surprise, she saw an ejection seat fly into the air as the Mech was consumed by a much larger explosion.
Just like that, the Hercules was a smoking hulk, the battle over. A missile must have found the ammunition stored in that torso. With a glance at the instruments panel, Nancy assured herself that no other enemies were inbound. Just great, she thought, even if she did make it back to base she would have to explain a few tons of shattered armor and two completely empty ammo bins… and no salvage to offset that bad news.
Nancy jumped to the edge of town and pushed the throttle to full speed. That was a problem for later, right now she just needed to escape before this guys friends showed up.
***************************
Arriving back shortly after midnight, she knew exactly who she'd find in the repair facility. Cameron was new to the unit and could be counted on to spend all his spare time tinkering with the units mechs, polishing spare parts, and generally just living up to the stereotype of a true grease monkey.
By the time she'd parked the Catapult and completed the shut-down procedure, Cam had parked a gantry platform next to the cockpit so she didn't have to take the retractable ladder to the ground.
“Run into some trouble?” Cam inquired.
“Little bit, nothing I couldn't handle,” Nancy replied.
“I didn't see your name on the patrol roster for today,” Cam said completely without judgment. It wasn't the new techs responsibility to check the activities of one of the units most experienced mechwarriors. He said it as a simple statement of fact, with no expectation of a response.
“Yea that's accurate Cam. That could be a problem for me,” Nancy paused for a moment as Cam turned to look at her. “ There anything you can do about it?”
Cam stared at her for a moment, then turned to look at the Catapult. Missing armor across all torsos, he could even see the structure of the right arm where most of the armor was stripped away.
“Uhhh, Nancy, wouldn't it be easier to just say you got jumped by the enemy and took them out?”
“First of all Cam, do I look like the sort that enjoys tons of paperwork?” Cam started to shake his head slowly. “Second, that leads to a whole host of questions I don't really wanna discuss. Where were you? What do you MEAN you were behind enemy lines? HOW MANY times did you go there? You see what I'm saying Cam?”
Cam nodded slowly as he looked back up at the Mech. “The armor looks like I'd need to replace 4 or 5 tons. That's not bad, a bit too much to call it a rounding error for one lance though.”
Indicating some of the other techs working the late night hours, Nancy asked, “Don't any of them owe you any favors yet?”
“Yeah, a few do. Enough do.”
“Those LRM bins are empty.”
Cam whistled softly, “Empty? That's a lot of missiles to replace.”
Nancy agreed, “I know, and you might not have enough favors out there to cover it. Might even have to write a few of your own IOU’s.”
Nancy reached into her jacket and withdrew the dusty bottle, “This should help make it up to you.” She put the bottle carefully into Cam’s hand.
“What is this?”
Nancy's eyes twinkled mischievously, “Probably the most valuable spirits ever distilled on this planet. Aged 20 years in a single genuine charred-oak barrel smuggled in from Terra itself.”
Cam whistled again appreciatively, much louder this time. He stopped abruptly, and glanced around the Mech bay to make sure he hadn't drawn any attention.
Nancy nodded at him, “That bottle is likely worth more than your salary for this year and next year as well.”
“Yeah yeah I get it. I'll get this done Nancy, whatever it takes.” Nancy could practically see the c-bill symbols dancing in Cam's eyes. She knew he'd get the Mech repaired overnight and back to top condition.
Nancy gave him a pat on the shoulder and started walking towards the barracks. She smiled to herself, this would make for a fun story at her retirement party in a few years.
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Topic: Fusilier Solo - Marigold Lance - 10/22/3059 (Read 744 times)