Caitlin shrugged, smiling "When you gotta do it, you gotta do it." she laughed before turning serious. "I don't have much, been out here too long." Caitlin's eyebrows furrowed in thought. "I got a couple of insignia from the Dragoons?" she risked. Cat looked around the room furtively before speaking softly. "Or... I have some real shampoo. Looks Kuritan in origin, so maybe not the best quality, but it's sealed. I was going to save it for our next down time, but way they're fixing up our little home I don't see us having any downtime for a month or more. That and the lack of running water here means it's available for trade.....if you're interested."

"If the Dragoons catch us at all, we're dead. It's not scalping per se. I wouldn't take anything off a dead body. Traded an officer we took captive in the early days. We don't lose all the battles." Cat looked almost shocked at the accusation, pausing for a moment, she held up a hand "I haven't opened it, but tell you what. I'll let you open it and decide if you want it or not, but to open it...it'll cost you some chocolate. It's about half again as big as our standard bottle, white plastic exterior and some kanji on it, superimposed over a lake and a willow tree. I'm pretty sure it's civilian....now as to whether it is good civilian, or whether it is 'the people's collective number 13' shampoo, that isn't something I know."

Cat winced as Bailey ran to the Ferret, wondering if they'd have the opportunity to talk again before they rolled out. "Godspeed Bailey." Cat turned to Ansgard "Dang! Almost scored us some dessert rats, and you kept your big mouth shut you loon. You have nothing to trade?"

Cat scooped the last of the hot gloop into her mouth, unhappy at the unappetising dinner. She thought about talking about the food she missed, but realised it'd just start everyone talking about the food they missed. She pushed the plate forward on the table with a sigh.

"So anyone else got anything interesting to share?" she asked the rest of the table.

It took the better part of the day but the R&D tech boys were done fiddling with Pegasus 411.  Truth be told she looked better than new.  The hull work seriously needed a pain job but aside from that, the damage had all be repaired, and the hull was even streamlined.

How she operated was another matter altogether.

It was late in the afternoon and you would have to be travelling all night if you were headed to your assigned sector.  To Garabaldo's knowledge there was no rush to get there so he had leeway to loiter and kill time around camp if that was his want.

"Hey now why would i want some rats? I got prime booze and ... "

And then he cringes as the tearing sound draws his gaze to his baby and his face foretells a bad storm. His white knuckles on his clenched fist telling he is considering harming someone.

"Time for that meeting."

and then he rises and stops of to the the meeting spot for the team meeting. He hoped it wasn't to tell them their unit was disbanded.

Caitlin shook her head in dismay. Some people just didn't understand. Dessert rations. She could taste them already.

"Hey I'll go grab McAlister and tell him about the meet, then I'm going to try to get as clean as the circumstances allow." Caitlin stood up, picking up her tray. "Catch you later"

Caitlin returned the tray, taking her time to get to Crispin, where she informed him of the meet at the artillery spotters watchpost. After that she managed to persuade a cook to boil up a pot with hot hot water and took it off to a bathroom where for the first time in what seemed like months she felt clean. She changed into a clean pair of fatigues and used the left over water to try to clean the pair she'd just changed out of. It might not get any cleaner, but it would wash the sweat out.

A much cleaner and happier Caitlin arrived at the artillery spotters nest. As she waited, she seemed surprised at the progress made on the Pegasus. She stood huddled in her parka with gloves on, her breath steaming out into the air as she waited for the others.

~ Caitlin ~

As Caitlin stands about looking over the new and 'improved' Pegasus 411, the other half of their hunting pair comes cruising in on a billow of air skirts.  The rush of wind cranks up the wind chill, making it just unpleasant as Harasser 412 pulls in to park by 411.

To her trained eye, 412 is a smoking wreck and it's a miracle that its limped in.  Half the air skirts were gone, bleeding air pressure and cutting down it's nimble speed.  The Turret was all but blown off, and only the exo frame that once supported the heavy armor remains.  Harsh laser scorch marks, and the crater blast marks from autocanon or missile fire gouged great chucks of armor out of the scrappy hover tanks surface.

---

~ Amos ~

Harasser 411 has seen better days.  Floating through an infantry ambush while on patrol was not a good way to start an encounter.  A pair of Panther cinched, that it was going to be one of those days.  The engagement was really short, you cut the fan to flank speed and you ran like hell, the parting trade of fire didnt go well for you at all.

Infantry SRM had penetrated the failing armor in the turret and had taken out Milo.  Its open to debate if the shrapnel killed him outright or not.  It was a moot point, because by the time you were far enough away and at a safe distance he was a goner.

Pursuit had given up on you.  411 was simply too fast to be caught by those sluggards so you did the only thing you could do.  Limp home and bury the dead.  You manage to make it to the R&D base in the late afternoon.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:47, Wed 20 July 2011.

Caitlin's mouth dropped. She could tell it was 412 on sight, it looked as though it'd been through Hell. She assumed it was good news as he pulled into the repair bay instead of the medbay, but her heart was still in her mouth as she waited to see the crew dismount, hoping they were okay, knowing deep in her heart that something bad must have happened.

She took a step towards the bay before she realised that all she'd be doing would be rubbernecking and the Lt. was due to arrive soon. She puffed her cheeks sighing heavily into the night as she waited for the others to arrive. She was tempted to use her comms to find out what the story was, but radio discipline was something hammered into the tank crew from day one and the Dragoons had tremendous DF gear.

"The gobsheens" she whispered as a silent curse to the ones who'd shot up the Harasser. As the activity picked up around the wreck, she breathed a sigh of relief as she could see Trask getting out. Stamping her feet to keep warm, she wondered if Bailey would be back with her dessert rats tonight.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:53, Wed 20 July 2011.

>.<

My bad, start up post hiccup.  They're not both named Amos, Milo was the name of the crewman that died.

Finally crawling out of the 411 after Caitlin has come on by and he flashed her his usual smile from inside the belly of the beast he was glad that sometime he couldn't feel his arm quite right...helpd keep him from complaining about the cold but also could give him frostbite that would take more of it away if he wasn't careful.  Slowly rubbing the warmth and working the blood in the arm to the point he was satisfied he wasn't going to loose more he saw the limping form of Amos' ride.

When Milo didn't emerge from the metal coffin he whispered a quiet prayer and looked down to his own arm before shivering in the cold.  He passed a parting thanks to Albert for all the work he had done and made his way up to the hill where the rest of the crew was supposed to assemble...he could wash up later.  Not like anyone could smell in this place with the cold making everyones nose run and plug up like a bad drain.

Nodding as he made it to the top of the hill he kept it simple since no one else was there yet, "Mallory"

"McAllister" she said in acknowledgement, returning a dazzling smile to Crispin. "How bad did they mess up our tank?" she already knew the bad news, but Crispin had been working on it. She paused before adding "Shame about Milo.... how's Amos? He look ok?" before Crispin could respond, showing that she'd been watching the bay from the hill. From the way she asked, the second question was far more important to her than the first.

Grinning at her he replied, "As long as she doesn't take a hit the thing will purr like a tummy rubbed kitten in the throes of happiness after having her milk..." to which his tone changed afterwards as he continued, "...he looked like most that have lost someone close.  I gave him space rather than ask about it cause it has to be raw right now..."

Caitlin nodded, looking down the ground lost in thought. Crispin's reminder stopping her from running down the hill to go see if Amos needed company. She looked back up harumphing loudly "It hasn't been tested in combat. With that mount of heat from the electronics we'll all fry. They won't need to fire missiles at us, the microwaves from your gear will toast us all and cook off our remaining SRM's." Caitlin's ascerbic tongue lashed out, but it was barbless. She was missing her missile tubes and Crispin just reminded her of it. "You are just happy because they are indulging your fascination with all things geek. Seen the Biscuit around?"

"As matter of fact..." he started before cutting himself off and hiding a smile just to make her think that things were worse than they were.

"Nah, last I knew where he was included choice words for the guys who were installing the stuff this morning.  Dunno since then." he shrugged.

Softening his tone he suggested, "I'll see what I can do about making this fast so you can check on Amos after this.  I'm sure he would appreciate you being there..."

In reply to Pegasus (msg #36):

Amos emerged from the Harasser 412 quickly. He waved for a medic as quickly as he could. "Come on! He's lost a lot of blood." As the medics arrived he knew it was in vain. The blood loss was too great.

The driver of the 412 bent over. Amos shrugged off the medics that came to check on him. A few simple bandages would be enough for the man. But the bandages wouldn't do anything for the scars inside. He slowly got up and blinked the sand from his eyes.

Amos half stumbled away from the Harasser.

Around Amos, there was a flurry of activity as Med tech went about the business of seeing what could be done for Milo and himself, while the Mechanics went about the task of seeing just how bad 412 had been hammered in that fiasco.

He didnt have to be a fortuneteller to guess that there was going to be the not so pleasant task of breaking in a new gunner in his future.

The welcome numbing of a cold compressed is pressed against your arm, from somewhere a winter blanket is thrown over your shoulders.  It was bitterly cold now that you thought about it.  Funny a few moments ago you didnt even feel it.  Must be the shock.

You're led away from the wreckage of your tank to the dubious warmth of the mess hall and positioned with your back to 412.  You hear the familiar whooshing sound of fire extinishers going off.  Funny, you didnt notice anything being on fire.

A Eridani Nurse comes around to check you for shock and shakes her head, not looking too pleased.

"He gave me orders to stay away from the repair bay....if you think his words were choice, I would have been downright rude." Caitlin deliberately shut her mouth to avoid saying any more. She looked down the hill towards the Harasser "Fast is good, through is better. No doubt we have a lot to talk about. I just hope it's worth it." Her eyes trailed over the gouges and broken parts of the hovercraft even as the Techs started to perform triage on it. "Poor Milo, those Harassers are insane quick. I'd have put money on them making it out ahead of us. Someone must have jumped them." she turned back to look at Crispin, her voice soft as she spoke "Yeah, I'll go see him after we're done... it would be wrong not to. He might need us."

"I hope so too.  I don't need another one of these." he joked off-handedly lifting his wasted right hand and thankfully covered by the jumpsuit rest of his arm.

He mused a bit as they waited for the others, "If it works as advertized it'll be useful.  Especially against the missle crews we come up against...but I gotta learn a goat-ton of new things to make her run tip-top."

He had missed the initial commotion of the Harrasers return and came broadly smileing up the hill another bottle of booze proudly in his pocket. His smile swiftly vanishes however and the victory of his good trade is forgotten as he sees the mood on his companions faces and the wreck next to their ride.

"What happened down there? Seems she got a solid beating. Everyone made it back in one piece?"

Their faces where an answer already as was the fact that the med team where preparing a body bag.

Cat shook her head sadly "Only Trask came out. Milo... he's gone." She didn't even bother to glare at Asgard for the alcohol any more. Seemed as though everyone had their own coping mechanism for loss, so long as it didn't interfere with his job, it wasn't her place to comment.

"Damn. That sucks think he'll be okay?"

He wasn't one of the most social ones on that front After all it was part of the job and a reason he tried not to get to attached to people anymore. So changing the subject was the best way to go.

"So? Any idea what the boss wants to share with us after they mutilated our baby?"

Dinner was Mystery stew.  Everyones bowl had different 'stuff' in it.  A hodge poodge of 'stuff' to be exact.  It's hit miss if you got a 'good' bowl or a 'bad' one.  On the brightside no one has ended up hospitalized from the meal.

The crew of 411 enjoys their dinner together, join by Amos from Harasser 412.

Something seemed to be up.  Most of the 6th Recon Company was present, including what was left of it's (2) Infantry Platoons (Most of them freshly airlifted and flown in by Bailey and the rest of the company's transports).  Bailey looks a like she could use a shower, but gives Caitlin a wave and a trademark grin of good cheer before taking her hand at trying the mystery stew.

Just a glance around and you could tell the Eridani's were taking a pounding.  6th Recon was down to 80% personnel, and 60% Units.  Losses like Milo were too frequent, and orphaned drivers and gunners missing rides werent too hard to come by.  Presuming 412 wasn't canabilized for part.

Cat ended up with a mediocre mystery stew. mostly full of some chunks of a leafy vegetable. She did have one or two shreds of something meaty in it, but it seemed a little piscine to her taste. "I bet the prisoners we captured are getting better than this...... I bet the prisoners the Wolves have are getting better than this too... can we surrender?" Cat wasn't being serious it just felt like as usual the grunts were getting less. She watched the Mechwarriors eat with a hint of jealousy, until Bailey's arrival distracted her.

Reaching into her load bearing vest, she retrieved the sacred bottle of Kuritan shampoo. She wasn't strictly speaking sure it was shampoo either, it just looked like a shampoo bottle. She hoped it wasn't moisturising cream, she wouldn't trade that for a million dessert rations, but a lake, bamboo....it had to be shampoo right? She held it up as a friendly reminder to Bailey, that they still had a deal going on.

Cat looked around hoping she could get the details of what was going on from Bailey. She would know after ferrying the PBI's all day, if not then some of the guys from the other squads might know something. For them all to be in this one place and in the state they were it had to be something big.