25 Transport
a/n: Doug's ride has arrived.
All the good things belong to Monolith Soft.
The transport has arrived, a wedge shaped bug of a vehicle, black with smooth plating, no markings, and absolutely no windows. With it, flanking, two of the more vicious skells in the Ganglion fleet. Definian, all flicking tails and distance weapons. Skell killers. BLADE killers too, but right now H.B.'s team is too small and too distant to draw attention.
The prisoner detail enters the transport, not exactly through a door. It hovers over them and they are sucked up, one by one, leader, guard, Doug, guard, then finally the young Marnuck comes rushing and is pulled in too. It doesn't seem to have a tube or an opening, although they can't see underneath, but it isn't the instantaneous transport that the Ma-non use. Definitely sucking, because Doug's covering flutters madly the instant before he winks out of sight, too quickly for the eye to follow.
Yelv grunts like he's in pain, but aside from that one sound he keeps his head down. H.B. watches so hard he forgets to breathe. Frye's eyes are only for the accompanying skells, trying to lay odds on whether he can take both at once. The odds he gives himself are very very small, but he knows he's exaggerating. The real odds are much much smaller.
Once again, there is a period of waiting. Frye's hand finds its way to Yelv's shoulder, ready to restrain the young hothead. H.B. eventually gasps before resuming the not-breathing routine. A minute ticks by, followed by several more, like moons in the Miran sky.
There is a puff of dust as the young Marnuck hits the ground, landing gracelessly and rolling mostly clear of the shadow of the ship before he can get to his feet. He races to the shiny temporary shed and starts dismantling it while the transport and escort still hover over the area. H.B. glances at Frye, who shakes his head as if to say, "Your guess is as good as mine, pal." The shelter is built to collapse easily, folding into itself like an envelope. Yelv itches to grab it for the Reclaimers; that kind of shelter comes in handy for away missions, and he'd love a neater bundle than the awkward tents BLADE has been using.
It's just a distraction, though. The transport is pulling away from the area, lifting in a way that feels less like smooth flight and more like it is rising on an invisible platform. The two skells bob alongside it, but the transport looks like it is resting on solid ground. They move off, directly east, until H.B. can barely see them.
"Not the castle then," Frye says. "Hope it's that fortress tucked in the cliffs. That's also on my list of Places I Want to Blow Up."
H.B. twists his head uncertainly, then lifts his binoculars. The transport is continuing east, dwindling to nothing. H.B.'s binoculars are following a different path, north as well as east. He fiddles with the settings, then passes them to Frye.
The binoculars maintain a lock on whatever H.B. was tracking, even when Frye lifts them with his own clumsy hands. What Frye can see is a ghostly shimmering version of the transport and escort, not quite transparent, winging their way smoothly to O'rrh Sim ruins. Frye passes the device quickly back to H.B. and grins at Yelv.
"Shoot me if the intel isn't straighter than last night's vodka," he says. "Guess we're doing the climb after all."
a/n: Short, because it is a day, and also because I realize I have forgotten everything about O'rrh Sim Castle. Oh no gotta play a little so I know how they get to the roof.
Next up: Climbing.