Refuge - Chapter 12: Gambles and Gambits, Part 2
Imported from SF2 with no description.
A savage opponent tweaks the knobs of Casey's personal hell while the mercenaries lay the seeds of a desperate ploy.
Refuge
by TypicalFloof
Chapter 12: Gambles and Gambits, Part 2
Chapter Theme: Deus Ex: Mankind Divided OST - Janus
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-3IpW98ysGY
Casey curled in a fetal position on the floor inside his tiny cell in the DropShip's brig. Wei's strongmen had dumped him there like a sack of potatoes, but he was too weak to heave himself onto the bunk. Much to his dismay, his interrogator had figured out that suffocation, and the fear of it, was Casey's weakness. He had no idea how long he had been subjected to the forced submersion.
His ordeal didn't end once he was dragged away from the interrogation room. Casey's body cried out for sleep, but whenever he could finally quiet his thoughts, he was invariably forced awake by the brig guards. There seemed to be no end to those methods which ranged from yelling at him, rattling his cell door, or even dousing him once with a bucket of water.
Even worse than the physical torture was the crushing despair and guilt Casey was fighting to keep at bay. He had resigned himself to the fact that he was going to die aboard the DropShip. But he would not be released from his torment until he betrayed his friends — it was only a matter of time. Once he was forced to divulge the true location of the DropShip, Devraux would be able to plan an attack at his leisure. How many of his friends would be killed as a result?
When Casey was next hauled from his cell, dripping and shivering, back into the interrogation room, he was utterly miserable. Wei stepped smartly into the room. Standing before Casey clutching a clipboard, he looked infuriatingly well-rested. The short man tapped the clipboard.
“The water basin worked quite well yesterday. But it was a bit of a mess, what with all the splashing and whatnot. I'm sure you'll be glad to know that we're doing away with it." Wei smiled.
Casey saw that the basin had indeed been removed from the room. A knot formed in his gut. What fresh hell had Wei imagined for him now?
“We're going for a little walk, Jenson." He issued a command and the wheels on Casey's chair were unlocked. Wei led the procession out of the interrogation room as Casey was pushed behind by one of the two hulking brutes. Casey could hear the cart following behind. They turned a few corners and passed through an open hatchway into an empty room. There wasn't anything special about it.
Casey glanced around as he was wheeled into the middle of the room; it looked like the DropShip's auxiliary cargo bay. He was locked facing the doorway, but the cart remained outside the door. Casey frowned as the adhesive patches and headband were again applied.
Wei's assistants joined him just outside the door.
“You're probably wondering why you're sitting in a cargo bay, Jenson. I'll explain." Wei said something in Chinese which made the soldiers laugh. He continued. “Your obvious fear of suffocation got my creative juices flowing. I realized that the water basin, though effective, was not the most efficient way to take advantage of this. I had a revelation, and so, here you are."
Wei spread his arms. “You are undoubtedly familiar with such cargo bays. Their salient feature is the fact that they can be pressurized and depressurized as needed to accomodate the outside atmosphere. I can also fiddle with the oxygen levels in this compartment."
The Capellan pressed a button and Casey trembled as the door started to close.
“No screaming, now. You might want to save your breath," Wei taunted.
The door slid shut with a thump that resonated throughout the bay. Casey's trembling increased as he heard a low hissing noise. His ears popped, and he felt himself becoming lightheaded. His chest heaved as breathing became more difficult.
“I have some trial and error to do, so bear with me. I'll get the optimal ratios eventually; don't you worry!" Wei's voice sounded tinny through the speaker.
Lights danced across Casey's vision as more oxygen was sucked out of the chamber. His head sagged to his chest as his diaphragm rose and fell weakly. Casey's lungs felt like they were being scraped from the inside. How long could he last like this? Was Wei actually going to suffocate him?
A sudden whooshing noise caused the crushing pressure on his chest to abate. Air! He sucked in lungfuls of precious oxygen.
“That was thirty seconds, Jenson. Can you go for a full minute? Two?" Wei's laugh was grating even through the speaker. Casey's heart raced as he again heard the horrible hiss. “I'm going to step away for a little bit. Don't go anywhere…"
“Wei!" Casey yelled as the microphone clicked off. He was panting already. Before long, the only thing he could concentrate on was getting what little oxygen he could. Each excruciating breath felt like sandpaper was dragging through his lungs. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.
***
In the evening of that same day, Col. Roget massaged his temples. Seated at his desk in his quarters, he had read the list three times now without comprehending it. The colonel sighed and began again. The papers littering the imitation wood surface were mostly expense reports or requisitions from his various supply sergeants. With little else to do but wait since the time of Devraux's crazy maneuver, Roget had decided to whittle down his increasingly large stack of paperwork. It was monotonous, soul-sucking work, but it was a necessary part of running a mercenary company. Even during deployments, bills and people still had to be paid.
The colonel wondered if he had misjudged Devraux. He knew Baker Company's harassment was dogging the man. Unlike the Capellans, Baker Company wasn't operating under a strict timetable. The Marik liaison officer who brokered the contract between Vella and the mercenaries had said as much. More importantly, Roget had successfully cemented that in the contract, so he had no worries there. House Liao, however, needed to push hard and fast if they wanted to gobble up any significant amount of territory. Having been in similar situations in the past, Roget was sure that Devraux was chafing under the constant delays.
The phone in the colonel's room rang shrilly. He picked up the handset.
“Roget," the commander drawled.
“Colonel, this is Lt. Randall. Sorry to disturb you, but I have a small situation to report."
Roget leaned forward. “Is it Devraux?"
“Negative, sir. Something's happened on our— Sorry, one moment." Roget heard brief, muffled speech and then the lieutenant came back on the line. “I was going to say that something happened at our perimeter, but Sgt. Freeman is the one who brought it to my attention and he's actually standing right next to me. I thought he could explain."
“Put him on."
“Sir!" Freeman said.
“Go ahead, Freeman."
“Sir, two militia recruits approached one of our perimeter patrols — a sergeant and a corporal. The sergeant said that the corporal with him urgently needed to see you. It got kicked up the chain to me since I was patrolling closest, and I just got back to talk to you. I think you'll want to see her, sir."
Roget pinched the bridge of his nose. The colonel was far too busy to accommodate every request to see him, especially from the Vellan militia. All too often, the “urgent need" devolved into one kind of bitching or another. He had quickly enacted the policy that any militia member wishing to see him needed to go through one of his subordinates first.
“Okay, go ahead," Roget said. Freeman's next statement rocked him.
“The corporal is an anthro claiming to be from the same village near where Devraux landed! She said Devraux's 'Mechs attacked—"
Roget interrupted. “Hang on, hang on, Freeman. You spoke to the corporal yourself? You've vetted this?"
“Yessir."
“Alright," the colonel said. “You and the corporal report to my quarters immediately. But I want you to come in first; leave her outside."
Freeman stepped into the colonel's office after a short delay and saluted. Roget returned it and leaned back in his chair.
“So what's the corporal's story? From the beginning."
“Sir, she says she was part of the patrol that got hit the same day Casey was lost."
“That's impossible, Freeman. Everyone in that patrol was killed."
“Doesn't look that way, sir. She listed the other recruits' names, and they matched the logs from that day. We ID'd the bodies, except the Wasp pilot's because, well, there wasn't anything left of it. The corporal was listed as KIA, but we never found her body."
The colonel pursed his lips. That made two soldiers that day who had been thought dead, but now appeared otherwise. The pieces were starting to come together.
Roget motioned to the door. “Send her in."
The corporal entered and issued a ragged salute. Roget returned it and appraised the girl. He frowned, immediately noticing that she was out of uniform. Instead of the fatigues worn by the Vellan militia, the fox was dressed in simple clothes that looked homemade. A single-strap bag was slung over the same shoulder that bore a hastily-pinned rank insignia on her sleeve.
The fox swayed and Roget saw her head bob, so he held his tongue. She went rigid as she caught herself.
“Have a seat," Roget said. The girl sunk into a chair. “What's your name?"
“Corporal Weiss, sir," she said in clipped tones. She met Roget's look with a fire that surprised him. He gathered that she was bursting to say something and barely restraining herself.
“Okay, Corporal. Tell me if I've got this about right. You were on patrol when your convoy was hit. Everyone was killed, except for you. You encountered Sergeant Jenson, and the two of you managed to make it to your village."
It was an incredible theory, but the colonel couldn't come up with any other plausible explanation. Roget folded his arms.
“Yessir! And I was at the village when we were attacked! It was Liao 'Mechs, sir! They were gonna burn it down, but Casey was captured, and—"
Roget held up a hand at the outpouring of words. “Slow down," he said. “You say Sgt. Jenson was captured? How was it that you were able to leave?" He narrowed his eyes. Was he being played?
Weiss took a deep breath. She explained Casey's capture, her frenzied escape, and her two-day dash back to Vella. Her account ended with her finding a militia patrol and convincing its sergeant to take her to the DropShip.
“And one more thing, sir," the corporal said. She fumbled with the buttons on her bag while the colonel mulled her story over. She made it here in two days on horseback? he thought in amazement. Both she and the beast had to be on the verge of collapse. The fox had gotten the bag open and produced a bundle of olive-colored cloth. Trembling, she unfolded it across Roget's desk.
Roget and Freeman gasped in astonishment. It was Casey's uniform! Someone had sliced it with scissors, and although it appeared laundered, the uniform was littered with grimy stains. Darker red ones, too.
The colonel looked up at Freeman and saw his face had gone a few shades lighter. “Alright, I'm convinced," Roget said. “Freeman, take Corporal Weiss to a bunk. We'll discuss this among ourselves."
Weiss's eyes widened. “Sir, please! We don't have much time! Casey—"
Roget again raised his hand. “Weiss, you're clearly exhausted. You aren't thinking straight. You aren't any use to anyone dead on your feet." Roget circled an index finger. “I need to discuss this with my men; we need to plan. Once we make sense of this, I'll call for you again."
The fox's mouth worked, but she didn't reply. She stood with difficulty and saluted before staggering out of the room behind Freeman.
Roget stared at Jenson's fatigues and sighed. What to do about him? And what to do about the girl? The way she talked about the sergeant, it was almost like…
The commander shook his head and shoved the papers to one side of his desk. Things were about to get interesting.
Several hours later, the colonel had assembled the recon lance MechWarriors in his office. Freeman already knew the details, so he filled in Lt. Greer and Sgt. Hendricks. They were understandably suspicious at first, but Casey's uniform convinced them. Now Roget was weighing a potential rescue of his MechWarrior while not sacrificing his objective to protect Vella.
“So what does that have to do with the… the… anthro collapsed in my berth? It reeks like wet dog in there!" Hendricks snapped.
Trish Hendricks was Baker Company's only female MechWarrior since Reynolds had left for greener pastures. The colonel supposed she had gotten used to not having to share with anyone else.
Roget raised an eyebrow. “It's only temporary, Sergeant." He addressed the room. “Now, since you're all here, and since you all had Jenson as a lancemate, I want your input." Trish settled down while Freeman leaned against the wall. Greer looked thoughtful.
“We can't mount a direct assault on the DropShip, sir. We'd be shredded to pieces," the lieutenant said.
“My thoughts exactly," Roget said. “SkyEye reported three enemy patrols. There were probably more, but with all the damn foliage in the way, we couldn't get an idea of how many troops there were, or if they had any vehicles. And we don't have the manpower to spare even if your lance wasn't understrength.
“We also cannot leave Vella defenseless. It was a costly mistake on my part to not assign at least one of our 'Mechs to every militia patrol."
The MechWarriors in front of the colonel nodded tiredly. They had all been strained by the increased workload after the militia's Wasp was destroyed.
When no other opinions were forthcoming, Roget reached for his phone. It rang before he could pick it up.
“Yes?" he asked.
A frustrated voice answered. “Sir, this is C.P.O. Foster. I believe you said you wanted to see the militia corporal once she was up? Frankly, I'd like her out of my hair, sir."
Roget chuckled. “Have her report to my office."
Weiss soon joined the small conference. “Yessir?"
“You already met Sgt. Freeman. The other two form the remainder of our recon lance." Roget introduced them. Greer appraised Weiss with a nonchalant manner, but Trish couldn't mask a flash of irritation.
“I've explained your story and the situation at the village. I won't sugarcoat it; things look grim," Roget said. “We're at an impasse because we cannot take the Capellan DropShip, even with our full company. The bulk of our force, including our heavier 'Mechs, needs to stay here to fend off attacks against the militia.
“The MechWarriors in this room worked closest with Jenson. They all expressed a desire to mount a rescue attempt." The fox's face brightened. The colonel held out a finger. “But, we're understrength and no immediate solution has presented itself. Since you're familiar with the territory to our east, do you have any suggestions?"
Weiss thought for a moment. “Do you have a map?" One was obtained and spread on Roget's desk. Everyone leaned in as the corporal bent over it.
“The rivers change direction here, and if you head upriver, you'll eventually arrive maybe one mile south of my village," she said, dragging a claw along the map. “There's a trailhead at the east end of this valley. That's where the DropShip landed. If we can reach it—"
Greer interrupted. “But what about Devraux's patrols? They'll see us right away if we enter the valley."
Nora shook her head. “When I escaped, I didn't see any patrols!"
“What!" Freeman exclaimed. He shot a look at Roget. “But SkyEye—"
Roget held up a hand. “There's nothing except the village for miles around," he said thoughtfully. “Maybe that explains why we saw so few patrols. Devraux's made a mistake or gotten complacent." The colonel's finger tapped the table. “If we can get a small force close enough without being detected, and wait for an opening…"
Roget looked at the small group. “It's a slim chance, but it might be our only shot to recover Jenson." If he's still alive.
Greer shifted. “What if Devraux took some of his heavies with him? I don't want to tangle with them, especially when we're down one already."
“I could pilot the fourth 'Mech." All eyes turned toward the corporal.
“You?" Trish contested. “What the hell does anyone from this planet know about piloting a 'Mech?"
A short while later, Trish fumed inside the cockpit of one of the DropShip's simulators.
“This is stupid! And a waste of time! We'll be done in, like, thirty seconds!" Trish cursed as she shoved the neurohelmet onto her head. Freeman grinned and sidled over to Greer. Arms folded, the lieutenant was staring at the two large viewscreens dominating the room.
The company's head 'Mech tech, known to everyone as “Trips," stood next to Greer. “I'm takin' bets!" Trips said. He held out a palm to the two MechWarriors. “Eh, eh? Any takers?"
Greer glanced at the rough hand that was missing its last two fingers.
“What, one-to-five that the anthro'll be toast inside of a minute? Pass!" Greer said.
Trips sighed. “I may have to break this down into ten-second intervals."
After the MechWarriors in Roget's quarters had stopped laughing and realized that Nora was actually serious, the colonel had, of course, refused. Freeman jokingly made a comment that Nora should take baby steps in a simulator first, and Nora seized the opportunity. She challenged Trish to a 1-on-1 fight, and before Roget could intervene, the hot-blooded sergeant retorted that she could win with one arm tied behind her back. Each woman was now strapped into a Wasp in the 'Mech simulator room.
Freeman looked at the left viewscreen that showed the camera feed from Cpl. Weiss's Wasp. He pursed his lips. Freeman was fairly surprised to see the fox running through the usual pre-start checklist without difficulty. In fact, he didn't think he'd seen her once ask for help about anything regarding the complex machine. He turned his head back to Trips.
“What the hell. I'll throw twenty on Weiss," Freeman said, jabbing two C-bills at Trips.
“You what?!" Greer shouted, but the money had already disappeared into Trips' pocket. “No way! Fifty on Trish. Easy money!"
The spectacle began to draw a crowd and soon Trips was beset by eagerly-betting spectators. “Pipe down, pipe down!" he yelled at five different hands in his face.
Nora was already flushed with excitement by the time she fired up her 'Mech. Her head buzzed with the hum of the engine and her paws found the control sticks like it was second nature. Signaling that she was ready, Nora focused on the task at hand.
A blaring tone indicated the start of the fight. Nora took a brief survey of her surroundings as the environment was revealed.
She had been dropped onto a wide, flat plain on a planet with little atmosphere. Towering spires of rock dotted the plain, providing plenty of places to hide. Puffs of dust blew across the landscape. Nora's stomach twinged as she felt the 'Mech respond differently than she was used to. She had never encountered an environment like this before. The fox ducked behind a column of rock as she tried to plan her next moves.
Because of sims' expense, Vella's arcade only offered various combinations of forest environments. That meant all of Nora's prior sim experience had taken place in “standard," Terra-like conditions — meaning close to one “g" surface gravity and breathable atmosphere. In short, Nora had no idea how the new conditions would affect her 'Mech. She would have to be careful. She glanced down and scanned her radar. Nothing yet.
Nora settled on a pattern where she would run for a rock column, peek around its edge for Trish, and decide on her next location. Move, stop, check. Move, stop, check. Move, stop—
Brilliant light stabbed at Nora's Wasp and sizzled into her torso. She flinched, firing off an answering volley of missiles that flew wide of the laser's origin. She quickly sidestepped and jolted around the other side of the rock face.
Nora set her jaw. The armor in her torso couldn't take many more hits like that. She fired her jump jets and rocketed sideways, hoping to put distance between her and her opponent.
Landing, Nora saw with a jolt that her heat was higher than expected. Irritated with herself, she belatedly noticed the environmental temperature was well into triple digits. So that's the game; _hide and seek in a furnace with 20-ton 'Mechs. _
Peering around the rock she was hidden behind, Nora didn't see any trace of Trish. Squinting, she tried to pick out a sign of the Wasp, but she saw nothing except towers of stone.
A sudden blast to Nora's left made her flinch. Thin tendrils of smoke rose from nearby craters. As she watched, a laser beam scarred the face of a rock column farther away. Trish was toying with her! Either that or growing frustrated.
Nora's radar showed only a faint smear where the shots were coming from. But if Trish continued firing recklessly, Nora could pinpoint her location. Another beam of light hit closer to Nora this time. Now she had a good idea of Trish's position, but she didn't want to rush out of cover and expose her damaged 'Mech. Just then, a whirl of dust blew around Nora's Wasp. Blinded by the thick cloud, Nora's throat went dry. Her left paw groped for the panel of HUD switches. Where the hell is it?
Finally brushing the correct switch, Nora snapped over to thermal imaging. The world popped into view again in various tints of gray, and Nora was able to pick out a slight halo that was darker than its surroundings. Now was her chance!
Nora shot out of cover. There! She kept the Wasp moving as she triggered a volley of missiles and lasers. With uncanny accuracy, Trish answered with a missile salvo that impacted high on Nora's torso. Nora sucked in a breath as she ducked into new cover and glanced at her secondary display. The damage to her 'Mech was minor, but she had landed a solid hit on Trish's leg!
Nora's thermal sensors picked up a shimmering, glowing field that extended several yards around her. Her Wasp was right on the field's edge, and it was difficult to see beyond it. Noting the temperature, Nora realized that it was hotter than her 'Mech. Given the already extreme environmental heat, if she entered the field, her 'Mech would be cooked in a hurry. But if her thermal sensors were having trouble penetrating it…
Trish bared her teeth and wiped her sweaty palms on her fatigues. This experiment had gone on long enough. Her Wasp's right leg armor had been breached, and the fox had scored a lucky hit on the 'Mechs hip actuator. Trish could only hobble since her leg was now frozen in position. Fortunately, the Wasp's torso had an extended range of motion. Trish took advantage of this, scanning for Weiss. She had darted into cover. Where was she?
Dust clouds kicked up by the unpredictable wind were only a small annoyance since Trish had switched to thermal already. The pockets of radiation, which obscured Trish's sensors, weren't really a big deal either. Anyone who set foot in one of those would be faced with an automatic shutdown in seconds.
Nora circled, tail flicking behind her. She had glimpsed Trish, but she didn't think Trish had seen her. Nora slipped behind a rock alongside her opponent's Wasp. A large heat field separated them. Her right ear swiveled. It was now or never.
Trish sat in stunned silence at the diagnostics scrolling across her screen. No fuckin' way! Laughter from the peanut gallery jarred her back to her surroundings. Her hands shook as she peeled the neurohelmet off of her head. Leaping up, Trish marched over to the anthro girl who was standing next to an astonished Freeman and Greer.
As the fox spotted her, Hendricks jabbed an accusatory finger. “What the hell was that?!" she snapped.
“I'm sorry?" Weiss asked, an innocent expression on her face.
“You know what I— You can't just— That wasn't—" Trish sputtered.
Freeman raised his eyebrows. “I seem to recall you saying you could win with one hand tied behind your back. You lost. Tough luck, Trish."
“But her 'Mech was shut down!" Trish exploded.
“After your legs had already been destroyed," Freeman said. “You know the rules." He pocketed a wad of cash.
“That shouldn't matter!" Trish growled through clenched teeth. “This isn't Solaris!"
“Weiss! Hendricks!" Colonel Roget marched over to the two women. They hastily snapped to attention.
“Sir!"
Roget glared at Nora. Seeing the shade of the colonel's face, the audience retreated to a safe distance or hightailed it out of the room.
“Corporal, what were you thinking? Throwing away your 'Mech just to get a few hits? I've seen academy cadets with more sound strategy!" Nora's ears drooped.
“And you!" Roget got in Trish's face. “What in God's name were you doing blindly firing your weapons! Especially in an environment where heat management is critical! You know better than that!"
“Yessir." Trish stared straight ahead.
“What do you have to say for yourself, Hendricks?"
In her peripheral vision, Nora saw Trish swallow.
“Sir, you're absolutely correct. I let my temper get the best of me." Roget swung toward Nora. “But—"
Roget whipped back around. “Yes, Sergeant?"
Trish took a breath. “I lost, sir. My 'Mech was crippled before the corporal shut down." Nora's ears lifted, but she didn't dare turn her head.
Roget glanced back and forth between the two. Finally, he huffed and shook his head. “Hendricks! Dismissed."
Trish hastily exited leaving Nora still standing at attention. Roget stood in front of her.
“At ease, Corporal." Nora relaxed a notch and put her hands behind her back. “What you did was reckless and stupid. Sim or not, sacrificing your 'Mech like that would have dire consequences! Do I make myself clear?"
“Yessir!"
“Freeman!" Roget barked. The sergeant flinched by the door before jogging over to the colonel. “I want you to get in a sim and instruct Corporal Weiss in small-unit tactics and ground-unit coordination."
He addressed Nora. “As for you, pay attention to the sergeant! You'll need to learn from him in order to function in Recon Lance. I'm only giving you this chance because we're down a man, and despite your reckless behavior, you seem to know your way around a Wasp. I don't want you hampering the unit or getting yourself killed!"
Nora's eyes widened in shock. “Yessir! Thank you, sir!"
The colonel marched out of the room. “Greer!" he barked. “I want Recon Lance ready…"
Nora turned to Freeman. He cracked a grin. “I haven't seen anyone pull a stunt like that in a while! You really got under Trish's skin."
Nora raised her eyebrows. “I won though." She fixed Freeman with a look of determination. “Let's get to it. Casey doesn't have much time."