Spirit Caravan part 1: No, not a Nopon store for Halloween decorations. H.B. and Frye are on a mission to check an anonmely in Sylvalum.

All the good things belong to MonolithSoft, and the prompt was from Shad of the Lifehold Archives.

"We need live eyes on the structure. Drone footage has been ... well, glitchy is just putting it mildly. Half of the time it doesn't even record. You'll get the coordinates in a second. I want to repeat: we just want recon. Do not enter the area. Got it? Good."

The growling visage winked out and the comm device pinged a location. Backside of Sylvalum, nestled under the crags. Was this a physical sketch of the location? Ganglion buildings, that was for sure, but stacked in a crazy assemblage, narrow instead of the spread of their normal camps. Weird mission, but bonus credits were always tasty. Frye slung his Gatling gun into a more comfortable position and grinned at his partner.

"Do not give me that kind look. We follow the directions," H.B. said, repressing a sniff of reproval.

"Read between the lines, fella. They're sending the hottest Pathfinder in NLA to an unknown location and they're expecting you just to look at it? From a distance? No way. They are expecting you to return home with an architectural floor plan, a snap shot of the directory in the lobby, and a realtor's listing."

"Clean your ears. They said that we were only there for recon."

"They why the heck are they sending ME? Hello, I'm the Killer Ostrich, pleased to meet you. I am all about touch, don't look." He made a grab at H.B.'s butt as part of his introduction.

"Don't be a fool."

"You're so big on getting into the administration. Use your brain. We are a textbook case of plausible deniability. No one can keep me on a leash, and they're counting on you to get me back out."

H.B. let a careful smile play on his thin lips. "You plan your disasters in advance, don't you?"

"Not really, but after a while I can feel them coming. Race you to the skells."

xcxcxcx

They ditched the mechs by the Nopon caravan, plenty far from the target and as good a parking spot as any. H.B. wasn't out of his skell before Frye was tearing across the caravan central area, headed for the local lake. Completely wrong direction, but H.B. decided he'd let Frey discover that on his own. Instead, H.B. would continue with his plan of getting information from the locals.

One of the Nopon recognized H.B. from a mission where they had rescued the young merchant's reputation and marriage prospects. The merchant was now surrounded by a triplet of tiny tumbling littlepon and looking like he was King of the Pon. He lifted a baby from the ground and deftly scooped sand out of its mouth as he listened to H.B.'s questions.

"Nio recognize description. Advise friend not visit. Last time salespon try to make deal there, never seen again."

"When was this?" H.B. said with concern.

"When Mamapon was littlepon. Skip generation."

"But the Ganglion only arrived recently."

"Spirit Caravan look different each time. Grannypon tell Nio so."

H.B. took note and decided he didn't have time for Frye to find his own way back.

a/n: I have no plan. I just know I need to write this. Suggestions appreciated because NO PLAN. Shad started the idea and I am making it my own, thank you so very much, except for the whole no plan thing.

Next up: I guess they knock on the front door?