The Hatchling- Part 6
Stepping into the cockpit of an AC for the first time was a terrifying and yet uplifting experience. From this small, cramped compartment, filled with its dozens of complicated panels, switches and displays, it feels as if the world is at your very fingertips. When you're seated in that chair, commanding this monolith of artillery and metal, you possess the power preserve life.or to extinguish it in a heartbeat. Well, the former is my choice for tonight. I just hope that not much as changed configuration-wise in the cockpit setup since the days of my reading AC manuals when I was smaller. If so, this is definitely going to be a suicide mission. I wouldn't know until I sat down in that chair and started this thing up.
I plopped myself into the worn seat and tried my hardest from the recesses of my memory to remember the Start-Up procedure. The not-so- distant sound of the storage house a few hundred yards away was prerogative enough to speed it up a little. The instantaneous catch and resonate hum of the generator meant that I had successfully started the damn robot. That was the easy part. Now I had to disable the movement locks and initiate the weapon system. The locks were easy, those I disabled on a daily basis when I was put in charge of returning the AC's to their owners. The guns were another story. I would have t cycle through the available parts and equip them one-by-one. All of this of course, after I had checked out and cleared the physical condition of the unit itself. I realized now that prepping an AC for combat was not a rapid operation. The increasing loudness of the swishing of storage doors opening made me wish it was. While I was panicking, waiting for the visual to be ready I noticed the old photo taped to the side of the display panel. It was a beautiful shot, of an even prettier woman with jet-black hair, apparently caught off guard and with a look of glee on her face. Nice to see this pilot had found love. I had no time for such an extravagance. Even though it would be nice to see a special someone again.
A beep indicated that the visual of the AC was ready for inspection. The 3D image flickered on. and you couldn't believe the mixed reaction I felt when the all too familiar quad-leg unit appeared on the screen, followed by the automated text message:
.WELCOME BACK STRIFE.
Talk about de javu! Now I had an idea of what I could probably do. At that moment, something weird happened. The weapon system started to configure itself, the computer assigning the all the weapons on its own. I know I didn't touch a thing in that respect, but before I knew it, I had this strange laser rifle in my right arm, a heavy laser blade in my left, and this really big dual-caliber laser cannon on my back. The mechanical restraints binding the AC to the shop's storage system depressurized with a rush of steam and smoke, and my unit was free to do whatever I wanted it to do. Various statistics flooded my screen, detailing the proper names of my weapon assortment and data regarding my unit's efficiency and overall rating. The right arm seemingly jumped up, armed and ready to rain down searing bursts of light on my enemies, with the convenient automated voice response:
.MAIN SYSTEM. ENGAGING COMBAT MODE.
Great, I had gotten this bad boy ready to scrap, now to put it to work. I moved the accelerator forward, letting the AC glide noiselessly and effortlessly toward the large doors, one hand controlling the movement, the other nervously gripping the weapon control stick. Now seems a good enough time to clarify that piloting an AC is not as easy as it sounds. The setup was made to be as basic and simple to be handled by a lone operator, yet it can still be hell to the inexperienced pilot. myself included. There are levers for both hands: the right to aim and fire all the weapons, even though most targeting is done through the Fire Control System. The left handle controls movement and the laser blade/shield. Also on the left side of the pilot are the controls for the Over Boost and Extension functions. At the pilot's feet are pedals to control the multi-directional rocket boosters that grant the AC flight and dash abilities, the duration pending the output of the AC's generator unit. Combined with easy to read computer layouts and this particular unit's great generator and weapons, and I'm ready to rock.
And just in time, because just as I gathered the courage to open that door and face my those two monsters outside it split open, and I was face to face with Javelin, the missile base. At first he just stood there, unaware of what to do since the U-Weapon wasn't in holding restraints and standing right in front of him. I knew what I was gonna do though. I switched functions to my laser cannon and aimed square for his chest. oh, and then I switched on my enemy broadcast signal, just as an afterthought. Javelin got the hint when he saw the glowing dual cannons and could finally target me, to figure that maybe he couldn't handle this on his own.
"Crash."
That was the last thing he said before I blew the middle of his core out with my cannon. His AC shuddered and then fell , minus its pilot and essential internal parts. It was weird, how I had just taken this pilot's life. ended it abruptly with a blast of light. and yet I felt no regret whatsoever. I guess from the cockpit of an AC you get a new, almost apathetic outlook on casualties during combat. Or maybe it was just that I was so far beyond remorse that I really didn't care what happened to people who got in my way anymore. In any case, I didn't have time to ponder the nature of my killing Javelin, because just as he fell, Crash came around the turn to investigate his partner's call. His reaction must have been mixed, seeing the seemingly unoccupied AC of his enemy Strife standing over the smoldering unit of his friend. He rubbed two brain cells together to figure out that maybe there was somebody inside the AC that was waiting to do the same to him. Too bad he didn't know who.
"STRIFE!"
He started down the corridor in a berserker fury you can only read about in ancient Norse myths. With boosters burning brightly, he fired erratically at me with the grenade launcher, thankfully missing every time. It gave me just enough time to boost back into U-Weapon's storage room and let the door close. I couldn't close the door from here, but I bet if I did Crash would blast it open anyway. Man, this guy's gonna tear me up if I try to engage him at melee range. I'd have to try and outsmart him, and the height of the storage house gave me a great idea. I'd only have one shot at it. oh please let this AC have a good generator.
Crash somehow managed to ram the doors open with an Over Boost- assisted shoulder charge. He strutted in, grenade launcher first. Perfect. I took aim and shot the couplings that connected the weapon to his arm, successfully sending it smoking to the ground. Crash looked at his bare arm, and then looked up to where the shot came from. That was the cue to cut my boosters keeping me suspended over his head. I landed hard on his shoulders, the strain of the added weight on Crash's unit's legs could be heard from my cockpit. While he was struggling to throw me off, I was pelting him with blasts from my laser rifle, but because he had a heavyweight core and head it wasn't doing much in the ways of piercing and damaging his unit. It only helped to increase his fury, enabling him to throw me off his shoulders.
I landed with a sharp crunch, which I painfully realized was my back cannons. So much for Plan B. I tried to lift my rifle to pop off a few more rounds, but Crash put his monstrous foot on my right arm. I looked up to face my attacker, and what I saw scared the hell out of me. The light from the opening hit his AC at such an angle the outline of it resembled a demon from your darkest nightmares. The fact that his optical sensor was glowing bright red wasn't helping my perception either. He just stood over me, almost as if he were glaring through his AC. He wanted me dead, and from where I lie there was no stopping him. These quad legs kept me from getting up with him pinning me down like that. His AC was shooting sparks from all his major joints, meaning he didn't have long before it completely broke down from the abrupt weight increase from before. Of course, he was going to make sure I was dead before that happened.
"So it's come down to this Strife."
I kept silent while I tried to figure out a way out of this, which was kind of hard considering how much I was panicking. You can picture how scared I was a minute before, but you couldn't begin to imagine the fear I felt with what he did next.
"Just you. me. and a large missile."
He switched to his heavy missile launcher and prepared to fire. Now I know he'd lost it! They launcher was appropriately nicknamed "The Nuke", because of it's ability to vaporize everything within it enormous blast radius. He knew he wasn't leaving this place with his AC, so he was gonna destroy both of us. The situation seemed that much more bleak, now that I was dealing with a suicidal maniac. I had to stop him, but how? I only had my blade left to work with, and that would do squat against his heavily armored body. but those joints looked pretty weak.
"Ha, ha, ha! How does it feel Strife? How does it feel to be the one on the floor while your opponent stands over your wrecked unit, huh? This time, I've won! I'm the winner! And trust me, there will be no rematches!"
I struggled to tilt my torso to the right, while Crash gloated over my fallen machine.
"What's the matter Strife? No sarcastic comebacks now, eh? Don't even try to get away, you're through you bastard!"
"Actually", I snapped before jabbing my blade into his pelvic joint, completely severing his right leg from his lower half, "I was just giving myself space to pull me arm back!"
He began to fall backwards while I used my boosters to jet out from underneath him. Now it was his turn to lie helpless while I stood over him. I lifted myself up using as leverage. Then I scooted over to where Crash was thrashing fruitlessly thrashing on the ground. He stopped when I pointed my rifle at his AC's head. He looked up at me, such a pathetic sight: the mighty Crash looking up at the unit he was torturing a minute, expecting sympathy. Not a chance in hell.
"You. You're not Strife. Who are you?"
"That should be the least of your worries asshole. You know, I could've cared less about you're guy's beef with Strife. You can all rot! But when you pointed your gun at that crowd out there, you sealed you're fate."
I used my blade to rip open a shallow hole in his core. Not deep enough to kill him. yet, just large enough so that the tip of my gun fit in. I jabbed it in, poised to fire.
"Any last words, prick?"
"Yeah", he snarled as he tried to bring his blade around to slice me, "Die, bitch!"
Too slow. I was already unloading the rest of my rifle into his core. I didn't stop until I realized I was scorching the floor underneath his AC. I pulled my rifle out and examined the great, smoldering hole I had made, half satisfied at my work, half appalled at how this conflict had climaxed and concluded. I dropped the rifle and dropped back into my seat, sweating and crying from the exhaustion of my first battle. But I had done it. I had proved to myself that I could take lives with impunity should the need arise. With this trial of blood and metal behind me, I had shown that I was ready to begin my penance trip. Atonement for my family's death, and closure for myself. It won't be long now.
* * *
The police came, the usual questions of who, what and why jumping to and from every person present at the time of the "incident". Most of these inquisitions kept coming back to me, but I was able to abruptly end most of the more trying lines of questioning by claiming I was "too tired" or "in too much pain right now". Of course, then I had to find an excuse to get out of being carted off in an ambulance. I admit that the attention I was receiving was pretty exciting, but all I really wanted to do was get home, to rest and to think of where I could go next. Plus I was beginning to realize that the side of my face was killing me. Then the press came, no doubt they'd gotten wind of how a young woman had saved this repair shop and were here for an exclusive. Man, if they managed to get a shot of me, it was game over. Someone from the old home would be bound to recognize me, then I'd be on a police escorted transport back to that hellhole in no time. I had to get away, but the cops were blocking all the ways out. This can't be the end already!
Then he came. Old man clad in a moderately expensive suit. What caught my attention was the way he commanded the police to kick the media out. He wasted no time in identifying and me amidst the mass of workers and policemen.
"So you must be the child that took care of those cretins-"
"I'm not a child."
I composed myself to respond to this guy a little nicer when I talked. Kinda hard when you're as exhausted as I was then.
"What do you want?"
"Frankly my dear, I want you. Well you're skills to be exact. What you did tonight was nothing short of extraordinary, and I'd like to help you utilize your talents further."
"I'm listening."
"Here's the deal. I'm a representative of a budding technology corporation who'd love to get conjure up some good publicity to attract sponsors and drum up some sales. Have you heard of the Kisaragi corporation?"
"Sure, I see some prototype parts of theirs roll threw here sometimes, but what's this got to do with me?"
"I'm well aware that you are not a registered Raven and have no right to be operating an AC in the first place given your age, correct?"
"Well, the last time I checked, the legal age for an operator's license was eighteen."
"I think Kisaragi can find a way to make an exception in your case, pending you can do something for us in return. Interested?"
"Am I?!"
I caught myself from getting too excited. There was a catch, but it had to be worth it for the right to own an AC. What the hell..
"All right, I'm in. What do I need to do?"
"We can hammer out the details back at company HQ. There's a limo out back."
I reluctantly followed, and indeed he was able to get us past the cops and out the back way. We were walking towards the indicated limo when I was stopped by a hand on my shoulder. I turned slowly to look, expecting some pedophile type or worse, a reporter, but instead I saw this kind-faced guy in an AC jumpsuit. The suit noticed and began to protest, but this stranger put up a hand to silence him. I nodded at him saying it was okay, curious as to what this guy wanted. His voice came out soft, but rough, as if it had been made difficult for him to be courteous.
"Thanks for looking out for those people. and my AC."
So, this was the infamous Strife! I could've punched him for all the shit he put me through tonight, but I was just glad I was able to see him, in person, again.
"Is there anything that I can do that would be able to show my gratitude?"
"If you mean repaying me, just. go home. I think that there's someone there that misses you.", I replied, remembering the photo in the cockpit. I left him with a smirk on his face, and headed back towards the old man waiting at the limo. Sayonara Strife! I was going to go and carve out my own path in life. May you never be the one in my line of fire when I get there.
(END CHAPTER SIX)
That. was very. difficult. and time consuming. but extremely fun. This starts a new chapter in the life of my Hatchling, so I hope for your continued viewing. More to come.
Stepping into the cockpit of an AC for the first time was a terrifying and yet uplifting experience. From this small, cramped compartment, filled with its dozens of complicated panels, switches and displays, it feels as if the world is at your very fingertips. When you're seated in that chair, commanding this monolith of artillery and metal, you possess the power preserve life.or to extinguish it in a heartbeat. Well, the former is my choice for tonight. I just hope that not much as changed configuration-wise in the cockpit setup since the days of my reading AC manuals when I was smaller. If so, this is definitely going to be a suicide mission. I wouldn't know until I sat down in that chair and started this thing up.
I plopped myself into the worn seat and tried my hardest from the recesses of my memory to remember the Start-Up procedure. The not-so- distant sound of the storage house a few hundred yards away was prerogative enough to speed it up a little. The instantaneous catch and resonate hum of the generator meant that I had successfully started the damn robot. That was the easy part. Now I had to disable the movement locks and initiate the weapon system. The locks were easy, those I disabled on a daily basis when I was put in charge of returning the AC's to their owners. The guns were another story. I would have t cycle through the available parts and equip them one-by-one. All of this of course, after I had checked out and cleared the physical condition of the unit itself. I realized now that prepping an AC for combat was not a rapid operation. The increasing loudness of the swishing of storage doors opening made me wish it was. While I was panicking, waiting for the visual to be ready I noticed the old photo taped to the side of the display panel. It was a beautiful shot, of an even prettier woman with jet-black hair, apparently caught off guard and with a look of glee on her face. Nice to see this pilot had found love. I had no time for such an extravagance. Even though it would be nice to see a special someone again.
A beep indicated that the visual of the AC was ready for inspection. The 3D image flickered on. and you couldn't believe the mixed reaction I felt when the all too familiar quad-leg unit appeared on the screen, followed by the automated text message:
.WELCOME BACK STRIFE.
Talk about de javu! Now I had an idea of what I could probably do. At that moment, something weird happened. The weapon system started to configure itself, the computer assigning the all the weapons on its own. I know I didn't touch a thing in that respect, but before I knew it, I had this strange laser rifle in my right arm, a heavy laser blade in my left, and this really big dual-caliber laser cannon on my back. The mechanical restraints binding the AC to the shop's storage system depressurized with a rush of steam and smoke, and my unit was free to do whatever I wanted it to do. Various statistics flooded my screen, detailing the proper names of my weapon assortment and data regarding my unit's efficiency and overall rating. The right arm seemingly jumped up, armed and ready to rain down searing bursts of light on my enemies, with the convenient automated voice response:
.MAIN SYSTEM. ENGAGING COMBAT MODE.
Great, I had gotten this bad boy ready to scrap, now to put it to work. I moved the accelerator forward, letting the AC glide noiselessly and effortlessly toward the large doors, one hand controlling the movement, the other nervously gripping the weapon control stick. Now seems a good enough time to clarify that piloting an AC is not as easy as it sounds. The setup was made to be as basic and simple to be handled by a lone operator, yet it can still be hell to the inexperienced pilot. myself included. There are levers for both hands: the right to aim and fire all the weapons, even though most targeting is done through the Fire Control System. The left handle controls movement and the laser blade/shield. Also on the left side of the pilot are the controls for the Over Boost and Extension functions. At the pilot's feet are pedals to control the multi-directional rocket boosters that grant the AC flight and dash abilities, the duration pending the output of the AC's generator unit. Combined with easy to read computer layouts and this particular unit's great generator and weapons, and I'm ready to rock.
And just in time, because just as I gathered the courage to open that door and face my those two monsters outside it split open, and I was face to face with Javelin, the missile base. At first he just stood there, unaware of what to do since the U-Weapon wasn't in holding restraints and standing right in front of him. I knew what I was gonna do though. I switched functions to my laser cannon and aimed square for his chest. oh, and then I switched on my enemy broadcast signal, just as an afterthought. Javelin got the hint when he saw the glowing dual cannons and could finally target me, to figure that maybe he couldn't handle this on his own.
"Crash."
That was the last thing he said before I blew the middle of his core out with my cannon. His AC shuddered and then fell , minus its pilot and essential internal parts. It was weird, how I had just taken this pilot's life. ended it abruptly with a blast of light. and yet I felt no regret whatsoever. I guess from the cockpit of an AC you get a new, almost apathetic outlook on casualties during combat. Or maybe it was just that I was so far beyond remorse that I really didn't care what happened to people who got in my way anymore. In any case, I didn't have time to ponder the nature of my killing Javelin, because just as he fell, Crash came around the turn to investigate his partner's call. His reaction must have been mixed, seeing the seemingly unoccupied AC of his enemy Strife standing over the smoldering unit of his friend. He rubbed two brain cells together to figure out that maybe there was somebody inside the AC that was waiting to do the same to him. Too bad he didn't know who.
"STRIFE!"
He started down the corridor in a berserker fury you can only read about in ancient Norse myths. With boosters burning brightly, he fired erratically at me with the grenade launcher, thankfully missing every time. It gave me just enough time to boost back into U-Weapon's storage room and let the door close. I couldn't close the door from here, but I bet if I did Crash would blast it open anyway. Man, this guy's gonna tear me up if I try to engage him at melee range. I'd have to try and outsmart him, and the height of the storage house gave me a great idea. I'd only have one shot at it. oh please let this AC have a good generator.
Crash somehow managed to ram the doors open with an Over Boost- assisted shoulder charge. He strutted in, grenade launcher first. Perfect. I took aim and shot the couplings that connected the weapon to his arm, successfully sending it smoking to the ground. Crash looked at his bare arm, and then looked up to where the shot came from. That was the cue to cut my boosters keeping me suspended over his head. I landed hard on his shoulders, the strain of the added weight on Crash's unit's legs could be heard from my cockpit. While he was struggling to throw me off, I was pelting him with blasts from my laser rifle, but because he had a heavyweight core and head it wasn't doing much in the ways of piercing and damaging his unit. It only helped to increase his fury, enabling him to throw me off his shoulders.
I landed with a sharp crunch, which I painfully realized was my back cannons. So much for Plan B. I tried to lift my rifle to pop off a few more rounds, but Crash put his monstrous foot on my right arm. I looked up to face my attacker, and what I saw scared the hell out of me. The light from the opening hit his AC at such an angle the outline of it resembled a demon from your darkest nightmares. The fact that his optical sensor was glowing bright red wasn't helping my perception either. He just stood over me, almost as if he were glaring through his AC. He wanted me dead, and from where I lie there was no stopping him. These quad legs kept me from getting up with him pinning me down like that. His AC was shooting sparks from all his major joints, meaning he didn't have long before it completely broke down from the abrupt weight increase from before. Of course, he was going to make sure I was dead before that happened.
"So it's come down to this Strife."
I kept silent while I tried to figure out a way out of this, which was kind of hard considering how much I was panicking. You can picture how scared I was a minute before, but you couldn't begin to imagine the fear I felt with what he did next.
"Just you. me. and a large missile."
He switched to his heavy missile launcher and prepared to fire. Now I know he'd lost it! They launcher was appropriately nicknamed "The Nuke", because of it's ability to vaporize everything within it enormous blast radius. He knew he wasn't leaving this place with his AC, so he was gonna destroy both of us. The situation seemed that much more bleak, now that I was dealing with a suicidal maniac. I had to stop him, but how? I only had my blade left to work with, and that would do squat against his heavily armored body. but those joints looked pretty weak.
"Ha, ha, ha! How does it feel Strife? How does it feel to be the one on the floor while your opponent stands over your wrecked unit, huh? This time, I've won! I'm the winner! And trust me, there will be no rematches!"
I struggled to tilt my torso to the right, while Crash gloated over my fallen machine.
"What's the matter Strife? No sarcastic comebacks now, eh? Don't even try to get away, you're through you bastard!"
"Actually", I snapped before jabbing my blade into his pelvic joint, completely severing his right leg from his lower half, "I was just giving myself space to pull me arm back!"
He began to fall backwards while I used my boosters to jet out from underneath him. Now it was his turn to lie helpless while I stood over him. I lifted myself up using as leverage. Then I scooted over to where Crash was thrashing fruitlessly thrashing on the ground. He stopped when I pointed my rifle at his AC's head. He looked up at me, such a pathetic sight: the mighty Crash looking up at the unit he was torturing a minute, expecting sympathy. Not a chance in hell.
"You. You're not Strife. Who are you?"
"That should be the least of your worries asshole. You know, I could've cared less about you're guy's beef with Strife. You can all rot! But when you pointed your gun at that crowd out there, you sealed you're fate."
I used my blade to rip open a shallow hole in his core. Not deep enough to kill him. yet, just large enough so that the tip of my gun fit in. I jabbed it in, poised to fire.
"Any last words, prick?"
"Yeah", he snarled as he tried to bring his blade around to slice me, "Die, bitch!"
Too slow. I was already unloading the rest of my rifle into his core. I didn't stop until I realized I was scorching the floor underneath his AC. I pulled my rifle out and examined the great, smoldering hole I had made, half satisfied at my work, half appalled at how this conflict had climaxed and concluded. I dropped the rifle and dropped back into my seat, sweating and crying from the exhaustion of my first battle. But I had done it. I had proved to myself that I could take lives with impunity should the need arise. With this trial of blood and metal behind me, I had shown that I was ready to begin my penance trip. Atonement for my family's death, and closure for myself. It won't be long now.
* * *
The police came, the usual questions of who, what and why jumping to and from every person present at the time of the "incident". Most of these inquisitions kept coming back to me, but I was able to abruptly end most of the more trying lines of questioning by claiming I was "too tired" or "in too much pain right now". Of course, then I had to find an excuse to get out of being carted off in an ambulance. I admit that the attention I was receiving was pretty exciting, but all I really wanted to do was get home, to rest and to think of where I could go next. Plus I was beginning to realize that the side of my face was killing me. Then the press came, no doubt they'd gotten wind of how a young woman had saved this repair shop and were here for an exclusive. Man, if they managed to get a shot of me, it was game over. Someone from the old home would be bound to recognize me, then I'd be on a police escorted transport back to that hellhole in no time. I had to get away, but the cops were blocking all the ways out. This can't be the end already!
Then he came. Old man clad in a moderately expensive suit. What caught my attention was the way he commanded the police to kick the media out. He wasted no time in identifying and me amidst the mass of workers and policemen.
"So you must be the child that took care of those cretins-"
"I'm not a child."
I composed myself to respond to this guy a little nicer when I talked. Kinda hard when you're as exhausted as I was then.
"What do you want?"
"Frankly my dear, I want you. Well you're skills to be exact. What you did tonight was nothing short of extraordinary, and I'd like to help you utilize your talents further."
"I'm listening."
"Here's the deal. I'm a representative of a budding technology corporation who'd love to get conjure up some good publicity to attract sponsors and drum up some sales. Have you heard of the Kisaragi corporation?"
"Sure, I see some prototype parts of theirs roll threw here sometimes, but what's this got to do with me?"
"I'm well aware that you are not a registered Raven and have no right to be operating an AC in the first place given your age, correct?"
"Well, the last time I checked, the legal age for an operator's license was eighteen."
"I think Kisaragi can find a way to make an exception in your case, pending you can do something for us in return. Interested?"
"Am I?!"
I caught myself from getting too excited. There was a catch, but it had to be worth it for the right to own an AC. What the hell..
"All right, I'm in. What do I need to do?"
"We can hammer out the details back at company HQ. There's a limo out back."
I reluctantly followed, and indeed he was able to get us past the cops and out the back way. We were walking towards the indicated limo when I was stopped by a hand on my shoulder. I turned slowly to look, expecting some pedophile type or worse, a reporter, but instead I saw this kind-faced guy in an AC jumpsuit. The suit noticed and began to protest, but this stranger put up a hand to silence him. I nodded at him saying it was okay, curious as to what this guy wanted. His voice came out soft, but rough, as if it had been made difficult for him to be courteous.
"Thanks for looking out for those people. and my AC."
So, this was the infamous Strife! I could've punched him for all the shit he put me through tonight, but I was just glad I was able to see him, in person, again.
"Is there anything that I can do that would be able to show my gratitude?"
"If you mean repaying me, just. go home. I think that there's someone there that misses you.", I replied, remembering the photo in the cockpit. I left him with a smirk on his face, and headed back towards the old man waiting at the limo. Sayonara Strife! I was going to go and carve out my own path in life. May you never be the one in my line of fire when I get there.
(END CHAPTER SIX)
That. was very. difficult. and time consuming. but extremely fun. This starts a new chapter in the life of my Hatchling, so I hope for your continued viewing. More to come.
