[center][h3][color=lightblue]Task Force Charlie: Recon Between Friends[/color][/h3][/center]

[center][color=Olive]"Mission Charlie: the spaceport near the capital city of Balya Gora has been under the control of the NPDRE, but some transmissions indicate at least one DropShip has arrived from off-world since the coup. It is very likely that whoever the Crimson Fists are working for, they're also providing new hardware for the Espian Guards. We need to know what is coming off of that ship, and who is sending it to them.

"Task Force Charlie will consist of Alley Cat and Desperado. The Raven can scout out the spaceport at range, with the Phoenix Hawk providing cover if needed. If a full scan of the spaceport proves not possible from a distance, or there is no approach without giving away your position, ditch the 'Mechs somewhere safe and approach on foot. Your priorities are to get sensor scans, photographs, captured documents, anything to give us an idea of who is supplying Federov and his cronies, and what they're sending against us. This is strictly reconnaissance, so do not engage the enemy unless absolutely necessary."[/color][/center]

Ziska had listened to the Colonel’s briefing with the carefully cultivated disinterest of a professional soldier. Which wasn’t disinterested so much as the open mind required to fully absorb the complex information doled out by command. At least that is what she told herself. Some monk had told her that. Some washed-up MechWarrior spouting Zen Buddhist catechisms. Hiding behind four walls, growing a wizardly beard, and cultivating a spirituality Ziska had found grating. She’d just wanted a place to sleep, not a lecture.

Tarak listened to the briefing and collected the brief information he needed for his mission. Even if it seemed simple he had a bad feeling about the operation, for some reason, there has been a lack of annoyance with the briefing, so obviously, there is going to be some catch. Tarak looked to Ziska, [color=gold]”Well guess we are going to be running recon,”[/color] Tarak said with a chuckle as he began to leave to prepare, [color=gold]”-make sure to bring a coat. Might get a little cold”[/color].

“What is a little reconnaissance between friends?” Ziska pantomimed in reply, as she stalked out of the room in search of someone else’s jacket to borrow for the mission. There was too much blood on the jacket that Kesi had wrapped her in following the good doctor’s careful administration of antibiotics and a neat line of stitches.

Tarak shook his head and laughed as he left to collect his own equipment, he grabbed his combat gear from his small sleeping area. His arms, his warm clothing, his boots, and gloves, with his bag and gear. Once finished, Tarak loaded up, as the long road to the spaceport begins.

Noise. Noise. Noise and more noise. Ziska swore loudly in the cockpit of her battered, but functional RVN-3L Her techs had done some proper work. A combat rush job, no doubt, but an exceptional one at that. A few loose armor panels, a few grinding joints, and striped paint were nothing. Nothing given the damage she had taken from the Crimson Fist Longbow. She had paid them back though. Scratch one RVN-3L. Scratch one Crimson Fist pilot, probably. Something was interfering with the souped-up sensors of her bleeding edge war booty and Ziska didn’t like it. In fact, she hated it. She couldn’t burn through the jammer. Not unless she wanted to paint a giant target on her and Tarak. Mech. Spaceport. Ground-based Vehicle. Aircraft. The options were endless and they didn’t have time to sit around measuring radar emissions. Not anymore, they’d waited long enough already.

Tarak sat in the cockpit of Black Phoenix, leaning back after he ran basic diagnostics while waiting for a callback. He sat and waited, again and again, he just tried to keep himself busy while he was on watch for Ziska. Tarak eventually called out to Ziska on a direct pulse transmission, [color=gold]”Aye, got anything? We sit here too long our mechs might be turned into landscape”[/color].

“Jamming,” Ziska practically hissed back, making no effort to hide the disgust and annoyance in her voice. “ECM, but I can’t ID it. Could be a BattleMech. Could be a combat vehicle. Or hell, it could even be some souped-up ECM setup some busybody had time to set up to blanket the spaceport. Fancy a midnight stroll? I know, I know, you’re busy trying to win the heart of the utterly immaculate Miss Wyatt, but you’re not going to make much progress attaching yourself to the corporate nobility if we don’t bring back any intel for the Colonel.”

Tarak sighed as he began to adjust his gear, lacing his boots, and tightening his jacket as he took off his cooling jacket. Tarak pinged back to Ziska, [color=gold]”Eh, I’m always ready for a midnight stroll, just hope that lovely Miss Wyatt won’t be too jealous of another woman taking me on a date before she does”[/color]. Tarak chuckled before he adjusted his helmet, [color=gold]”Let’s get going, don’t want our entire convos recorded, Colonel might have an aneurysm on the playback”[/color]. As Tarak began to scout for a good place to hide away their mechs.

[hr]

Stepping into the cold, Ziska pulled the jacket she had borrowed from Kan tighter. The leather jacket was worn, but comfortable, and smelled faintly of lavender. Kan was too nice, Ziska reflected. Too calm. Too Free. Ziska could never quite understand how the Capellan woman had decided repairing BattleMechs was her calling in life.

As she moved, a strange change took hold of the MechWarrior. Her banter ended. Her eyes shifted instinctively across the surrounding landscape, never settling, always looking. Ziska moved slowly, and efficiently, each step, quieter than the last.

Minutes of walking later, the two dismounted MechWarriors stood at the edge of the shrub forest. Crouching low, Ziska laid down on her stomach, edging forward until she found a small break in the foliage. From her combat pack she brought out her rangefinder binoculars and wordlessly watched.

The spaceport was busy. Transport vehicles were darting to and fro, laden with heavy crates. Laborers, tiny bees even with the rangefinder binocular magnification, buzzed around, busying themselves with matters of logistics. Ziska let out a low breath, a busy spaceport was what she wanted to see. Busy was good. Busy meant that unfamiliar faces would stand out less. Busy meant deadlines. Busy meant everyone was too busy to pay attention.

Tarak crouched next to Ziska as he stood on guard, his heavy gear that normally made him seem like he had a death wish came in handy today as he was covered from head to toe against the cold. He had his rifle in hand as he made sure the coast was clear, then he went right next to Ziska and put his hands over his eyes and made fake binoculars with them as he said, [color=gold]”I found snow, rocks, a big cat eating a rodent. So I guess I found dinner if this goes for long. What you got cat?”[/color]

Ziska shot an amused look at Tarak from the corner of her eyes, keeping her gaze locked in the viewfinder port, “Three objects. Big. Very big. Vehicles it looks like, maybe aircraft. Can’t really tell, everything is covered by tarps. They're either very lucky or they are trying to keep things stealth.”

Handing the rangefinder binoculars she had ‘recovered’ from a dead NPDRE officer, Ziska bristled with irritation. “Take a look, maybe you can spot something. Otherwise we might have to get closer.”

Tarak takes the binoculars as he said, [color=gold]”Let’s hope I can see something your beer goggles can’t”[/color]. Tarak began to look as he saw much the same, 3 large objects, each covered by tarps. He saw how a couple of hands passed around it, yet just their luck, it was mostly technicians who neared there. Tarak sighed as he lightly passed the rangefinders back, [color=gold]”Well, looks like we’ll need to get closer. We can take out some eggheads and sneak on in. Get close on those 3 mysteries, take some pictures, and maybe if we get lucky do some acquisition of a couple of things. Maybe even see if they left keys in the ignition?”[/color] The last thing made Tarak smirk as he turned to Ziska.

[hr]

Tarak and Ziska both set off down, taking a bit of a short yet steep and shadowy path, allowing them to dodge a few of their spotlights. Tarak and Ziska took similar paths down, they pushed their way over to what seemed to be a terminal area where they found a technician working on a panel outside of a small shack. Tarak looked to Ziska and gestured to himself and to the tech as he began to make his way closer to the technician. Once Tarak had made it close he quickly kicked the technician’s knee out from him and grabbed his head with both hands before he shifted the man to one side before he took a grip of their hair and the bottom of their jaw before pulling both violently to force their head to turn in a strange way and snapped the neck instantly. A clean kill, Tarak set them next to the shack as he turned and gave a thumbs up to Ziska before he entered the shack.

“Dead men tell no tales, I suppose,” Ziska said indifferently. What was one more body? What was one more casualty? War was war. Innocent or guilty, it didn’t matter.

Following Tarak into the corrugated metal shack, Ziska smiled at their good fortune. Tools. And spare jumpsuits. Props for their deception. She didn’t bother waiting and tossed her jacket aside, stripping out of her clothes, and zipping into a mech tech jumpsuit that looked sufficiently used. No name. No rank labels. Perfect for a civilian. Which she was. They both were. Just simple technicians trying to get a difficult job done.

“Ready?” Ziska asked, holding a toolbox in her hand with some authority, her pistol stuffed carefully within, glancing through the door that she faintly cracked open.

Tarak was in a tight fit for his suit, yet he had fit well enough in. He slid his gear within his own toolbox, a pistol within, a photography device, and a few stray wires and circuits in case they find certain items. Tarak looked to Ziska with a nod as he said, [color=gold]“Eh, as I’ll ever be”[/color]. They both began to make their way out, in search of shinies, their first target is going to try and see what is under the tarps and go into the storage bays, while trying to avoid any real detection. Tarak is a sore thumb, so he decides to try and stick a little in the shadows, his height makes him very easily seen.