Chapter 4:

Chapter 16

From Nowhere to Sender Vol 2


“Report.”

“They’re approaching the first castle as we speak, well what’s left of it anyway.”

“Good. Once you’ve confirmed that they’ve been rerouted I want you to regroup with team four and break for the first muster point.”

“You got it bossman.”

Cloud Nine’s newly appointed leader recognized the facetiousness in his subordinate’s tone but let it slide. No sense in reprimanding them as long as they carried out their orders as instructed. Orders that he’d put considerable thought into in preparation for today.

As to why his instructions hadn’t involved blocking the path forward entirely? Well, that was because the cargo they were after had an expiration date. The specially prepared crates unable to maintain their sub-zero temperatures indefinitely. And if the specimens didn’t survive the trip to the holding site, the whole operation will have been for naught. Not something he’d want to have to report to Baugh during the first month of his tenure.

“Duck, get everyone ready to mobilize. I want us in position with time to spare.”

The lead Voltigeur nodded from his spot underneath a shaded outcropping and rallied the other members with a wave of his hand. A testament to the respect he’d built over the years since his recruitment. An offer that had been extended by Baugh personally. Yet another reason why so many expressed disbelief at his being passed over for the position of party leader.

Logan on the other hand had come over as the result of a trade that included cash considerations. Originally belonging to a feeder party under Roy. He’d been part of a hastily put together package to resolve a dispute stemming from a convoy that had purposefully adjusted its route to pit the two juggernauts against each other. As if he didn’t have enough reasons to despise the LCF. Regardless of affiliation he’d put his head down and done his job earnestly, something that must have caught someone’s attention from the main party. Leading to his current predicament if he chose to call it that.

The surly man pulled his shoulder length dark hair into a tight ponytail and hopped onto the saddle of his bike. He proceeded to fish a small bottle of liquor from the inside of his jacket and downed its remains in a single swig, side-arming the leftover glass container into a nearby limestone deposit. He lapped up a few drops from the side of his mouth just as Duck pulled up alongside him, his trademark lantern shields on full display.

“We get this job done clean; I’ll see about getting you a recommendation into the main party. Get you one step closer to that meeting you’re so desperate for.”

The Volt only chuckled as he shook his head in a dismissive manner.

“Any raider worth his salt always maintains a moving target. The man who recruited me taught me that. You’d think you would’ve figured it out by now, old man.”

Duck sped off after the jab, followed by an indifferent Hite a few beats later. So they’d be settling things sooner rather than later then. He wasn’t opposed, distraction that it was. But it would have to wait until the job was done. At least that was something they could both agree on.

*

“C362 is to adjust course without slowing down. And I want all deck officers on standby. Just in case any party members decided to stick around and test us.”

“Time to turn and burn!”

“And will whoever gave Redcliffe a headset kindly see about retrieving it.”

“Already on it.”

Jericka got up on her tiptoes and plucked the headset off the engineer, returning it to her station in the corner. In her defense she hadn’t given it to him in the first place, though how exactly he’d gotten it from all the way over at the controls was a mystery. During her brief visit to the back deck perhaps.

“Their loss, I had some good material lined up.”

The CO ignored her bridge-mate in favor of scrutinizing the map they’d only just marked. This castle, or what remained of it, hadn’t been among the coordinates shared. But changing course here raised the possibility that none of the castles they visited would be. Fortunately the head CO was on top of things.

“Go ahead and disregard the coordinates we went over, the path we’ll be taking from here on won’t be incorporating any of them.”

“The onetime I do my homework...”

“Save it for later Commander. I can assure you this development fell well within our parameters of potential responses.”

“Put Redcliffe back on the horn, I need a pick me up.”

Jericka knew better than to entertain this idea. As she doubted she’d be able recover the headset from him a second time without help.

“We might not be passing the structures we marked but that doesn’t make the information on their locations any less useful.”

“You intend to predict the number of castles we’ll encounter ahead of our second check-in.”

“That’s the idea.”

“Here’s a thought. Is it possible we’re placing too much strategic value on the castles beyond the use of their tattered remains as roadblocks?”

The Commander inserted himself into the conversation to grant his CO time to work out the next castle’s location.

“We also considered that possibility, but diving into the reports from previous convoys suggested the raiding parties were in fact using them as footholds.”

“Does that logic still apply once they start wrecking said footholds?”

“Not if they’re being selective about which castles they leave standing.”

It was at this point Esma stuck her head in the bridge at Lux’s behest. Under the guise of wanting more insight on the situation, she’d sent the brunette in. In reality she knew her colleague needed something new to distract her as the shooting dilemma had already been processed and meager countermeasures taken. And what better way to distract a CO than by appealing to their investigative nature.

“In other words they’re funneling us towards a specific castle. Likely one that offers them the greatest chance at success.”

“Textbook home field advantage.”

“And overcoming it will require solid intel regarding the castle’s layout. Intel we’re counting on being delivered in the next check-in I presume...”

Jericka didn’t let her surprise show but did turn around in her seat to confirm that Esma had put the second headset on. Said rookie proceeded to scooch up next to her to get a better look at the map. For what it’s worth neither Lautnor nor Sumiye seemed to care about the intrusion, more focused on tackling the problem at hand.

“Rather than focus solely on the castles themselves, I think it best we take a more comprehensive look at Cloud Nine’s raiding history and playbook.”

“Do we have any reports on the party’s operations since Hite took over?”

“You sure took your sweet time joining the call Kircher. Did things finally come to blows with Hayes?”

“Not this time, no. But I’m the only one onboard properly equipped to monitor the conditions of the medicinal transport crates.”

Jericka covered the mic and looked over at the brunette beside her.

“Is that something we’re supposed to be doing?”

Esma mirrored her senior’s movements before answering.

“I mean, I saw Cade heading in the direction of the cargo bay earlier. So...I’m inclined to believe he’s on top of it.”

“To answer your question Officer Swarek, we do not. But there’s little reason to believe they’ve strayed far from Baugh’s influence.”

“A new leader would know better than to change things up right away. More so if they’re still in the process of winning everyone over.”

Lautnor briefly recalled how rough things had been during the beginning of his tenure as a Convoy Commander. In large part because the promotion had required a move to the Western region. Making all the connections he’d formed over his career in the north somewhat redundant. His current labret being a farewell gift that several of his northern colleagues pitched in to buy for him. He gingerly traced its outline as he listened on.

“So it’ll come down to the speed at which we’re able to decipher their talking drums.”

“A taller task than normal given the terrain. Who knows how the sound will travel with all these limestone towers around.”

“I take it all of Baugh’s parties employ some form of this drum you speak of?”

Esma would be the first to admit that she was woefully uninformed when it came to the defining characteristics of the different raiding parties. Her knowledge extending to whatever showed up in the manifest. A problem given there was no reference material this time around. She hadn’t even known the name of the party they’d be dealing with until she commandeered a headset.

“Pretty much, though they change up the language each time.”

Jericka propped her chin onto her hand as she responded. Almost like the conversation was beginning to bore her.

“We have references compiled from previous encounters to help serve as a base, but successful sign stealing still requires careful observation of the drummers as well as the actions they elicit.”

“It shouldn’t be too much of a headache. I’ve encountered Baugh’s groups in the past, so I’ve got a good feel for it.”

“As expected of our head CO. Please don’t hesitate to request assistance from any of us auxiliary staff while you’re at it, Ms. Endellion.”

“Can someone wake this mother fucker up?”

It was on the tip of Esma’s tongue to mention how Jericka was the one who looked about ready to fall asleep.

“Language Ms. Katsurn. I would think you’d know better than to let Hayes’s crass tongue influence you in such a way.”

The crimson head scoffed into the mic at the very notion. A good indicator for Lautnor to jump in and get everyone back on track.

“Sumi will lead the charge on the sign stealing, and to make her job easier I’ll be issuing some aimless commands to spur a range of reactions from the party.”

“Won’t that be difficult in our current circumstances? We don’t really have the leeway to make formation changes or break aways.”

Esma could hear the Commander smile over the headset.

“I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve. You just focus on sticking close to Lux and following her instructions.”

The fill-in security officer felt her face grow warm, namely at the realization she’d gotten carried away and fallen into her CO habits.

“Although I would appreciate it if you kept a headset on hand. I want you to report to us directly regarding any patterns you notice tied to the enemy’s movements.”

“Of course—!”

Jericka’s leaned back in her chair and rolled her eyes at her junior’s enthusiasm. Briefly flicking her gaze over to the other presence in the bridge with them.

“Better she have it than Wash, rambunctious presence that he was.”

*

“Wash sweetie, I’ll be a bit later tonight than usual, but I still need you to wait for me right here like always. No wandering or climbing, understood?”

“Don’t you worry Naia, I’ll keep an eye on the little bugger. Might just have to put him to work while I’m at it.”

The three were stood out front of an old family run convenience store located on one of the small town’s intersections. Congregated around the old bench adjacent to the service window reserved for gambling and smokes. The part of the store that saw the most business these days. A simple bronze plaque decorated the backrest of the bench, a small but thoughtful nod to the elderly store owner's late husband.

“If it keeps him busy I’m not opposed.”

[Naia Redcliffe, 30, Wash’s Mother]

The woman ruffled her son’s mop of dark brown hair affectionately before he wiggled out from under her hand.

“That’s child labor you old bag! But I’m willing to look past it if you let me work the window this time!”

“You could learn a thing or two from an old bag like me youngin, but I’ll tell you what. If you properly clean the inside of the store this time, I’ll give you a chance at working the window.”

“Maeve...you know he’s not old enough to do that.”

A ten-year old Wash pouted and rushed to stand next to the old woman. Making sure to stand up straight as according to his adolescent mind the fact he was taller than the owner made up for what he didn’t have in age or life experience.

“Ain’t nobody gonna complain about all that, not with the constable being good friend of my husband. Your boys big for his age anyhow. Probably all that love your giving him bearing fruit.”

Wash looked at his mother and smiled, a goofy smile that made his birthmark shift upwards. He truly was her only weakness.

“Just make sure he gets his reading done first...and no partaking in any of the wares young man.”

The youth saluted his mother, a habit he picked up from one of their neighbors, and she responded by giving the top of his head a kiss.

“Behave yourself. I love you.”

“I know mom!”

With that she resumed her on foot commute to the town’s ironworks. A labor-intensive job, but one that paid enough to support the two of them. Something she was incredibly thankful for. But she’d also been quietly putting money away since her son’s birth. In a few short years they might even be able to relocate somewhere more prosperous. Somewhere that would give Wash more options for his future. Because his future was her future.

*

No sooner had she sent Esma inside, Lux spotted one of Cloud Nine’s Hussards in the distance weaving through the forest of stone pillars. But rather than raise the alarm right away, she decided to observe them for a bit. And the first thing she noticed was that they weren’t pulling away nor drifting closer to the convoy. Which meant they were likely acting as a marker in lieu of a scout. In simpler terms they’d been instructed to maintain a specific distance from the the convoy to better coordinate the timing for approaches.

Essentially the party members making up the main approach would start counting as soon as the marker passed, and once the count reached a predetermined number they’d know to reveal themselves and descend on the convoy. Often times giving them the jump on deck officers. This type of strategy thrived in environments like the current locale, what with the abundance of natural cover. As for how to counter it...

One tried-and-true method was simply picking off the Hussard as they went about their role. But that delayed the problem more than solving it as often times there were other Hussards waiting in the wings to monitor and or replace the marker.

In general it was ill-advised to spend ammo on Hussards as unlike their two counterparts they didn’t pose a direct threat to the crew or cargo. It was better to save shots for the Volts and Demens who made up the ranks of approaches and boarding parties. But even taking all that into account, Lux couldn’t help but line up a shot in anticipation of where the Hussard would appear next.

Pinpointing a clump of moss on one of the stone towers that she judged to be around the height of the enemy’s saddle and drifted horizontally to an opening between two nearby outcroppings. If their movements patterns remained consistent with what she’d seen thus far, then the Hussard would probably be cutting through the space diagonally. Right about...now.

As predicted the party member passed right through the narrow opening and even turned their head, as if they knew something was amiss. Lux felt rather than heard the whistle escape through her lips as a finger contacted the trigger.

“Bang.”

Lux lowered the rifle and turned towards the source of the impression, spotting her engineer as he ascended the stairway. Had the young woman been experiencing one of her ‘episodes’ she’d have noticed him sooner. The man was annoyingly light on his feet after all.

“Do we need to look into contacting some next of kin?”

“Only if I throw your ass overboard for disturbing the peace.”

Cade shrugged and took up beside the blonde, offering her a drink of water from the bota bag he’d brought with him. She accepted it while keeping her eyes on the mark.

“You know now that I think about it, I don’t actually have anyone listed under my next of kin...”

Lux paused her water consumption to look over at her friend with a deadpan expression. She wiped her mouth with a forearm and pressed the bota back into Cade’s broad chest.

“I have a few names down. No relatives of course, just people who would stand to benefit from my demise.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea. Kind of like a post-mortem newsletter.”

“That took a turn...”

Lux responded to the nearby speaking tube without turning around.

“If you don’t like it—mind your own damn business!”

“...no.”

Cade laughed before spotting the same Hussard Lux had been following. He moved forward for a closer look at things.

“A sign we’re approaching another castle perhaps?”

There was no trace of panic in Lux’s voice as she mirrored his shift forward.

“I don’t think so. More likely an attempt at getting ahead in the mental game.”

“A friendly reminder that they’re keeping tabs on us as well you mean.”

“They don’t want us to have any delusions about what happened to the castle back there.”

“Curtain wall was a mess, would not visit again.”

Cade played along with the other half of his engineering tandem.

“It was obviously besieged by a neighboring power for control over the trade route.”

“You joke but we might have to besiege a castle or two in order to reach Riga.”

“Dibs on being first over the walls.”

Cade turned around and leaned back against the railing, giving Wash a smile through the front window.

“The real issue is whether our pair of first-time officers will hold up when things kick off.”

“Ah, I passed one on the way up. He appeared to be having a small personal crisis of sorts.”

“Say anything to him?”

“He was sat on the ground so I told him to keep the corridor clear. Response time being important and all that.”

Lux gave the engineer a sidelong glance, expecting a retort. There wasn’t one. An unexpected development as she’d generally consider Cade the more personable of the two of them. Ironic given how little he cared for most human relationships. Either way she’d been counting on one of the guys to give the skittish officer a pep talk. But with Cade’s recent display of apathy and Faust’s propensity for silence, that left only Youn, who’d been more reserved in his interactions with unfamiliar colleagues since Preece’s death.

“We are just one big well-oiled machine today, huh.”

“Do what I do and blame it on something obscure. I’ve already settled on Tuesdays being the worst.”

Cade made a face at Wash through the window.

“It’s Wednesday Wash.”

“...”

“We can’t even agree on which day of the fucking week it is and they expect to figure out a way to combat castles we don’t have a layout of?”

“We don’t have a layout of YET you mean. The SOA’s on it, have some faith.”

Lux glared at the engineer, then proceeded to turn and gun down the Hussard in one sharp movement. His presence having started to wear on her nerves. With them now gone she redirected that aggravation at Mr. Glass half-full.

“Oh, so now you feel like giving pep talks?!”

“Sit tight Lux, I’ve got this! Hey Cade! ...is it really Wednesday?”

*

“I heard from Kircher that things are pretty lively over on C362.”

A security officer standing on the back deck of C274 made the comment to a colleague finding refuge in the shade of the empty turret bay.

“That’s how a Crusader leading the charge should be. Probably why that Lautnor brat assigned them the position in the first place.”

“Don’t you mean Commander Dandridge?”

A gravelly chortle emanated from the darkness of the turret bay, followed by the sound of something striking the deck. Hard.

“Sables like him aren’t fit for command.”

“But didn’t you just praise him for putting C362 at the head of the formation?”

A second thud reverberated across the back deck.

“That wasn’t praise small fry. It’s common sense for crews with the most familiarity to take point in a stack formation.”

“So that’s why there so lively...”

The deck officer looked back towards the front of the convoy.

“Do you know any of the crew members onboard C362?”

“No... but I’m told they’ve got a sharpshooter who trained under a current Daughter of the West.”

“A Centennial!?”

With that the source of the gruff voice finally lifted his burly form from the deck and began climbing out from the turret bay. He shielded his eyes from the sun with a large paw while the other rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The other officer was quickly reminded how much of a unit the older man was as the officer in question ran a hand through his graying locks. Likewise his thick and tidy beard had started to succumb to the loss a pigmentation. But his most striking feature remained a pair of heterochromatic eyes that accentuated the man’s intimidating presence.

“Now that I’m awake, let's see what the brat can do.”

[Batten Rohner, 44, Security Division]