This is the sad and tragic tale of Speedy McDougal. Speedy
was a Hoplite pilot who had arrived planet side just a scant 4 cycles ago. Of
average looks and average build, average skills and average mecha, not a lot
stood out with Speedy, except one thing, his chipper personality.
Speedy was always the first with his hand up (whether right
or wrong). He was the first to laugh, or the first to console. He was the first
to volunteer, and the first to cheer on his squad. He was the living embodiment
of “Pep”.
Because of his spirit, most people either really liked him,
or avoided him. No one could be said to “hate” him mind you, as that would be
like openly admitting that you were the sort of person that would gleefully
kick a puppy when it was sad.
Now at the beginning of this sad and tragic tale, we find
Speedy happily whistling a tune as he walked down the hallway on his way to the
mess. He had gone on three missions guarding transports since being here and
was feeling like he was getting the hang of it. His Lance Corporal
congratulated him more than once on his ability not to shoot himself in the
foot or accidentally lock onto a group of settler buildings. Speedy wasn’t quite
sure how to take this, possibly he was he being made fun of, or was the bar of
accomplishment really low around here. He wasn’t sure, but decided it must be a
compliment.
Speedy pondered on this and what further accolades of
appreciation he might have bestowed upon his person as he went through the chow
line and got a plate full. Skipping around an upside down bowl of oatmeal, he
made his way to the tables and looked for a place to sit.
Over on the back side of the hall sat his Captain. A middle
aged man with a middle aged body, the Captain rubbed at his eyes and groaned
quietly as he tried to get a mouthful of fruit cup to cooperate with the half
gallon of Bourbon he had sent down there scant hours before.
“Morning
Captain! How’re you this fine day?”
There was an audible ‘Crack’ as the Captain bit down on his
spork.
“Speedy…”
The Captain’s Aide was looking at Speedy as though he had
grown a third arm out of his back and was shaking his head back and forth as if
trying to ward off a train wreck with one desperate look.
“Is this
seat taken sir? Breakfast is the most important part of the day you know.”
“Go ahead
Speedy, take a seat. Just please be quiet as I’m trying to concentrate.”
“Concentrate on what sir? And… pardon me Captain, but you
look awful this morning. Are you getting enough Vitamin C?”
The Captain’s neck bulged as he tried to keep his anger in
check. His skin turned a pulpy shade of red-purple as the vein in his temple
started to pulse.
“Gee sir, that vein doesn’t look healthy. My Aunt had a vein
like that on the back of her left knee that would pulse just like that every
time she had to…”
“Speedy!”
“Yes sir?”
“I have an assignment for you. A ‘Special Mission’ as it
were. Reports indicate that we haven’t
heard from the group of Settlers who maintain the Bivouac site over on Skarr
Mountain. We need a mech jockey to head over there, make contact, and survey
the area for anything unusual. Then when you’re done, head back to base for
debriefing.”
“Yes Sir! Thank you Sir!” Speedy jumped to with a crisp
salute. Pieces of bacon and toast went scuttling as his enthusiasm threatened
to knock the whole table askew.
------------
The trip to Skarr Mountain had been both long and arduous.
Outer temperatures soared to over forty eight degrees Celsius. Humidity was so
high that targeting sensors had troubles with the shimmering heat waves
cascading across the canopy. The sun stayed overhead constantly as this planet
had a very slow rotation.
Speedy’s Hoplite was feeling the heat as well. Gauges across
the board showed the strain the system was under. Hydraulics, coolant lines,
engine power arrays, all pulling extra hard due to the extreme temperatures.
Good gravy! How did they get all the equipment up here for
the Bivvy site to be set up? This is murder! Oh wait, they probably dropped it
in. C’mon Speedy, use your head! This is no time to become slow witted! Oh!
Waaaiiit……wow…
As the Hoplite came over the rise, it was looking at the
five-hundred-hectare area where a settlement was supposed to sit. Supposed to
at least. Instead, it was looking down on a cratered out, pock marked divet. As
if God himself had sliced out a chunk with his celestial Nine-iron and this was
the remains.
Only there were no scorch marks. No smaller craters which
should be evident as it had to take an immense amount of firepower to pull this
off, but no. Nothing like that. Then there were holes. Thousands upon thousands
of holes, all around the edge of the gigantic anomaly.
Speedy was on the precipice of what was to become the
biggest event of his life. Both figuratively and physically. And all that was
going to take to get him further down the Rabbit Hole was one errant itch.
Stupid
harness! Always biting into my…
There was a shudder as the twenty-five ton mech tilted
crazily forward. The ground under the Hoplite’s right foot had given way and
fallen into the pit. Speedy tried to correct, but the poor, sorry Hoplite was
slow to react due to the over-heated systems. Down the Rabbit Hole he goes…
Oooh, my head. Wait, what happened, why is there pressure on
my shoulder straps? Unless.. am..am I upside down? Ugh, can’t see anything. Better
turn on the emergency lights.
In the bottom of the pit was our lone Hoplite, upside down,
being held erect in this almost comical position by two rather large boulders.
Speedy and his trusty mech had fallen roughly Thirteen hundred feet down the
side of the crater. The fact that speedy was alive enough to be confused was a
testament in it’s own right to the sturdiness of the Hoplite frame.
Speedy had managed to extricate himself from his harness
without concussing himself further. He felt around on the panel for the
emergency lighting toggle and flipped it. A soft blue-white glow lit up the
bottom of the crater. Speedy thought it was eerily beautiful and let out a long
exhalation of breath. Dust snaked into his cabin on vapory trails, indicating
that his hatch was not being held in place anymore.
When Speedy turned to
examine this, moving shadows played along his peripheral vision.
Speedy whipped his head left and right, yes, yes he had
definitely seen movement. Then he saw them. Pouring from the holes were these
giant, shiny insects with large pinchers. They poured down the pit wall,
resembling an oil slick, their movement was so precise with one another.
“Captain?”
The Communications specialist was approaching at a jog. A look of worried
excitement on his face.
“Captain,
this transmission just came in. I think it’s from that Scout you sent up Mount
Skarr”
“Lemme see that, Specialist. Hit play.”
A holo vid opened up over the Specialist’s left hand.
Interference was causing it to skip and stutter, but there it was, Lance Pilot
Speedy McDougal’s excitable face.
“May Day, May Day! Pilot down! Um, really down. Well, not in
spirit mind you, I still seem to be happy enough, but oh my! I’m really really
far down. In a hole that is. Settlement is gone! I think God sliced it off into
the Celestial rough and didn’t replace the divet. But, oh my, Captain, I’m not
alone down here <skrzt, skrzt> There seems to <skrzzt> in a gi
<skkkrtztztz> my hatch! <skshhhhhhh> in! <skrztz>
AAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!! <chitter chitter chitter> AH! AHHHHHHH <
skshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh>”
The holo vid
faded out with static.
“Captain?
Wasn’t that Bivouac settlement over run by Ambershard Stalkers last week?”
“Well, we
had to find out for sure. Now we know. Go get the General on the horn, he’ll
want to hear the confirmation.”
--------
Light.
Bright, irritating light.
Light that
forced it’s way through the eyelids, and straight down the optic nerve. This
pain connected to the base of the skull
with the massive throbbing which in turn was connected to the spine. From here
he could feel his nerves alight with sharp pain, as if the broken shards of a
window were being forced through his flesh in slow motion.
He started
to scream. Oddly though, all that would come out was a dry rasp, something akin
to the way a shipwreck survivor sounds when they wake up on the beach the
morning after the “big storm.”
“Case number
8675309, subject has regained consciousness. Time to initiate infusion
procedures.”
Speedy tried
to pry his eyelids open, desperate to see his surroundings. Well, maybe
desperate wasn’t the right term. Honestly, he’d rather keep his eyes closed,
have the light level lowered a titch, and have someone bring him a spot of tea.
But being as how “infusion procedure” does not sound like anything comfortable,
maybe he should make the effort.
Through the
haze, he could see several large shadows skittering about, issuing sounds in a
chittery language. Above his head, just out of view, the voice spoke again.
“Easy
friend, we wouldn’t want to bruise your dermal layers upon the restraints. I
would like to welcome you to my Lab. In this lab, I’ve been working on trying
to make mech pilots stronger, faster, more aggressive, and able to handle more
information at a quicker rate of data flow.
“Hee
urrrrrghlglglg rnng gruhhhh.”
“SHHH shh
shh shh shh. Easy now. You also have a rather large hard rubber bit in your
mouth. You will probably thank me for that at some point. Without it, test
subjects have been in the habit of biting off their own tongues. And we wouldn’t
want that, now would we.”
Well THAT
was certainly not reassuring. And gosh darn it, what the heck are those silly
insect things doing?
“Ah! I see
you are interested in my preciouses. I call them Ambershard Stalkers. You see,
their bodies are biochemically merged with actual Seed Crystals. When they
generate certain frequencies, their harmonious resonance match identically with
each other’s, and with mecha. This allows them all to have the ability to act
in unison to a single communication.”
“Grrummm
Brblblblb?”
“Why yes,
that was awful clever of me, thank you very much! I like you, your so much more
agreeable than most of my test subjects.”
“Bresp
Mubdecd?”
“Hmm? Oh,
never mind that, you’ll find out soon enough. Now then, for the first step.”
The owner of
the voice moved around to the side of the cot where Speedy could see him.
Hunched of back, soiled and bloody lab coat, he had a wide eyed maniacal
expression. There was a fine sheen of sweat on his upper lip, even though it
was decidedly chilly in the lab.
He raised an
arm that was holding a laser scalpel and motioned one of the Stalkers forward.
The Stalker shambled forward and bowed it’s Mantis like head. The Voice then
reached behind the head to the neck and made an incision. With his other hand
he brought up a long, curved set of ferrite hemostats and probed into the
incision. The Stalker shuddered slightly but otherwise held still. Out of the
incision he pulled a sliver of what looked like living crystal. It was faceted
and reflected light, but was obviously fleshy in texture.
“There we
go. There. This is the key that will open the door to begin your journey.”
He held the
sliver of flesh close to Speedy’s eye. It was so sparkly… then movement. Little
tiny fibers feathered up from the sides like so many little legs, then
stretched towards his face. Now Speedy started to scream in earnest.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head, you might experience a
slight…pinch.”
While holding the sliver inches from Speedy’s eyeball, The
Voice then brought the laser scalpel up, right next to Speedy’s pupil. Light
shattered. Darkness fell. Pain was continuous and immeasurable.
Wetness. Darkness. Cold.
Speedy started shivering from the conditions. He opened his
eyes and felt the throb of pain, now more muffled than before. He looked around
and found that he was in a natural tunnel. Somewhere up and to his right, he
could see the opening so he started to crawl.
Fresh air. Sweet, fresh air awaited him once he reached the
rim. He looked down and saw his base of operations below. A sack with a cloak
and a loaf of bread were sitting in the mouth of the tunnel. He ate the bread
ravenously and donned the cloak to protect himself from the chill of the night
air. It was time to go to his debriefing. The Captain will be proud.
In the base, the Captain was going over paperwork.
Ambershard Stalker attacks have increased by an alarming rate over the past
month, as well as the disappearance of supply convoys and scouting missions.
“Captain! You’ve got to come see this!”
“What is it, Specialist…”
“We’re not sure sir. But, I think it’s Speedy.”
“By the Prophet, bring this base to alert status! Man those
walls! Get every pilot into their mecha now! And let’s go have a talk with this
“possibly Speedy.”
Down by the gate, crouched a lumpish figure under a cloak.
It looked miserable and cold, shivering uncontrollably. The Captain was both
leery and empathetic at the same time.
“Speedy? Is that you son?”
“Captain. I’m so glad you’re here. I’m ready for my
debriefing now.”
“Uh, good, good. Excellent. What have you to report Lance
Pilot.”
“That you have become obsolete, sir.”
The cloaked figure raised his head and the Specialist shrank
away and started vomiting. A red glare beamed out from what used to be Speedy’s
left eye socket.
With a movement from his left hand, there was a rumbling,
then a thunder of footsteps. Thousands of Ambershard Stalkers poured forth from
the darkness. The wall defenses started firing but were over run in moments by the sheer number coming forward.
Speedy then twitched his right hand with a “come hither”
movement. Several of the mechas close by ceased their movements, turned and
came forward. The base then started to erupt in a chaotic cacophony of screams,
explosions, and twisting metal. Yet over all of this, the Captain could still
hear Speedy’s high pitch laugh.
Even in this new state of being, Speedy still found a way to
be irritating as frack.
And there wasn’t anything he could do about it except join
in the screaming. So he did.
