Last year's drills wore me down. Chassis repair last spring slowed me down. Replacement hasn't held and will need to go in again, soon as Acme has the back-order filled. ~waiting is the hardest part~ ♫ Irony of songs in the background has to make you chuckle, if you're listening. The universe has a wicked sense of humor. Learning how to dance in the storm is the key to most life's hardest moments.
I swear I think there were real Smurf's in those scones. Need to get one of those pieces tested, just to double check. Not sure what went wrong but my sensors weren't functioning and I swear that second battle crew must have gotten a fleck of the memorytin that I've coveted in my own Jadoon from a previous wars. It was unmistakable, the synchronicity as our opponents met up with our fleet, even without seeing another Jadoon. Wonder how much they can do with a speck? Flakes I saw were all picked up, or so I thought. Using a flake with my spare parts that I lost and replaced after a drill could explain a bit. Damn pirates, should have offered rum.
I never expected a carrier, who actually uses those services anymore? LOVED the outfit and the singing telegram style of days long gone was most endearing I admit. What a unique way to send an invite, but during wars? Really?? I know many of my men had genuine concern but I was intrigued.
~This message is from John T. Mainer, Renown Commander of Bouncing Blue Legion. Leader of men and machines. “My lads and lasses have put in the time to push for medals. Shall we dance.” As the messenger read in singsong the note, he piped in, “One, two, three, AND...”
A war dance with tea, very intriguing. None would leave a man behind so both sides allowed for body recovering under cease fire for one hundred twenty clicks. If you're too slow, time is up. <b00m> Why not take a break for a civilized cup of tea? History has documented many a pact made over tea, before distilling took it's place. Might note the 'fairness' of pacts tends to be more even from the former.
When I walked into the hangar, I wasn't expecting table service.
“Nice to see you again Deborah. Looking powerful and intimidating as ever!” John smiled as he stepped forward, hand outstretched in greeting.
“Always a pleasure,” I replied, accepting his offer and was led to the table.
As we sat and tea was served, Smurfberry scones were presented. I didn't recognize who brought them in, the name sounded familiar, but John didn't have any issue with the sudden appearance. “We shall see if we can't give you a bit more of a run for your money this time.”
Wish we spent as much as some teams can. Then again, maybe we would change if we could, who knows. “You're men continue to improve."
John's pride in all they've worked for showed. “You know, time was marching on and I hadn't seen you. I really thought we could take you, but not all of my players stepped up to the plate.”
I know the scene all to well. Family emergencies pull some away, malfunctioning equipment plague others. John continued, “First rate performance as always. Glory to Northwind, for her Brotherhood regiments do her proud. Those who gave their all to this battle know the worth of those we faced.”
As I raised my tea cup, I added, “Respect and regards to the Legion, may your mecha serve you indefinitely.”
It was an eloquent dance some say. Swift and sharp, weapons from both sides doing their job. I rarely see Zilla step out but she jumped for scones before I knew what happened. This wasn't looking good at all. The time delay was genius I must admit. Those jacuzzi time machines sure must be nice, gotta save up for one. Maybe I can find some wreckage one day and fix it up.
Never expected my point mecha to go haywire. All day after tea, things went fine. Checks were made, tweaks done and performance was fine. Back in the hangar, power went down, a few times. The frustration of working in substandard lighting wasn't helping anything. No alarms tripped overnight and things seemed fine until wars began. The gyroscope that was supposed to be my compass was so off, next thing I knew I was on 110th Street. Slumming for resources wasn't new to me but the timing was all wrong. Zilla was unresponsive, I'm certain someone slipped something in the scones. The memorytin was misfiring with Momma and other mecha weren't marching in time.
By the time I got everything under control and back on track, little time remained. Tried bouncing back but when I saw where I was, it was far too late. We may have won Gold in the first Faction Wars but this was not our best showing. I can think of at least ten thousand reasons we might have a hard time but malfunctions wouldn't have been one I'd prefer. Reports from the other division have come back with similar situations, trying to bring up 140 tons and 600 show up instead. Who knows what is dressed properly or not? No way to risk the mission. If equipment dropped in that hangar on the way out, you'd never even know it! Not like I really wanted to dance through this storm but made an appearance at least. Getting a visit from their Commander was a highlight ending. Momma enjoyed serving up a little CWs specialists hospitality. Pretty sure that Gold Medal from the first FWs caught the light just right, knew it was worth the time getting it to shine it's best.
The men and I need rest, we'll get this raid done, have a shake down and clean house. Once we see where we stand, a sit in might be called. Acme needs to get those back-orders filled or we're dead in the water. Damn ads aren't fulfilling all the dreams come true as they promise. Seems some things will never change over time.
Submitted by Deborah Roaché-Hudak #289133