Interesting Times, Dangerous Places: #349 “On Thin Ice” 01/23/3133
INN - Interstellar News Network
I’ve been to cold places before, but the chill of Ankaa’s north pole seeped through all
the protective clothing that my guide convinced me to wear. We drove onward
through the starkly beautiful landscape, with towers and canyons of ice as far as the
eye could see. From one vantage point, we could see flashes and palls of smoke in the
distance that signaled our objective. I asked Ari, my guide, how far away the
explosions were—they seemed to be a kilometer of two at most—and he shocked me
by saying they were probably closer to 80 clicks, at least another day’s travel. Ari
wasn’t the most talkative of people. In all the time I was with him, we probably spoke
only a hundred words, but he was quietly competent, and I was glad for his skill.
It was late the next day when we encountered troops for the first time, a battle armor–
suited patrol from the Swordsworn who recognized our sincerity and directed us to
their encampment. The base was a mix of prefabricated structures and caverns
carved into icy cliffs—a far cry from the public perception of a military encampment.
But the construction materials were typical of the chaotic field camps I’ve seen over
the years. A few words in the right ears quickly got us into the ad-hoc hanger, where
technicians were crawling over a motley collection of ’Mechs. I could see a couple of
upgraded AgroMechs and what appeared to be an unmodified miner, as well as a
Centurion and the shattered remains of a Spider, its blue Swordsworn livery badly
pocked and scarred, and its right jump jet and pseudowing torn away. No Ryoken
though, I observed.
“Came up against a point of Elementals,” said one of the technicians in response to
my queries about the Spider. “Jackson was able to hold them off for a while, but not
long enough.” The ’Mech’s cockpit was a blackened scar; the Wolf troopers had
clearly gone after the pilot in a “headhunter” attack that had been introduced by the
Clans when they invaded 80 years ago—a reflection of the relative value of machines
and pilots. To the Clan’s thinking—as the Steel Wolves still believed, apparently—
there were always more warriors, but never enough machines. So the most efficient
way of neutralizing a ’Mech was to take out its pilot.
“Yes, Elementals have been a major problem,” said one of the pilots a few minutes
after I’d been ushered into their ready room and handed a cup of steaming tea. “It’s
too cold for unsuited infantry to operate here, and many of our conventional ’Mechs
are having difficulty in the low temperatures.” I’d heard of petrochemical fuels
freezing on worlds back in the League, another reason why the armed forces of the
Captain-Generals preferred fusion-powered war machines. We’ve lost a couple of
pilots to the cold, too.” Because the average MechWarrior wore shorts and a T-shirt
in the cockpit to ameliorate the effects of excess heat, I could imagine the problems
that would ensue if one of them had to eject. “Yes, they have cold weather gear in the
escape kits built into their ejector seats, but those are good for only a short period.
And with all the anomalies and signal interference in the canyons, it can be hours
before the SAR teams get there.” Most MechWarriors were always on guard for the
debilitating effects of heat, but the enemy here was the cold.
We chatted for a while, but eventually I steered the conversation to the present
situation and the Swordsworn’s status after the withdrawal from Anqabad. “We’re
holding our own,” said the pilot I’d been speaking to. He suddenly became nervous
and looked behind me. I heard a click as the hammer of a pistol locked back, ready to
fire.
“You know, Cameron, I don’t really want to have to shoot you as a spy,” said a
female voice, tinged with the accent of the Marik-Stewart Commonwealth.
INN is pleased to announce a syndication deal with Black Border publications for the
rights to publish articles by famed political and war correspondent Cameron Shaw.
Mr. Shaw is best known for his coverage of the ongoing conflict in the former Free
Worlds League. His knack for being in the right place (or the wrong place, depending
on your point of view) at the right time has put him in the thick of many of the great
engagements of recent years. He reported from Albi on Manihiki as forces of the
Regulan Fiefs seized the city, and from Sophie’s World when the Oriente Protectorate
and Marik-Stewart Commonwealth clashed for control of that strategic world. He is
known for his long-running syndicated diary “Interesting Times, Dangerous Places,”
in which he portrays the great events of our time with a mix of humor and pathos.
INN - Interstellar News Network
I’ve been to cold places before, but the chill of Ankaa’s north pole seeped through all
the protective clothing that my guide convinced me to wear. We drove onward
through the starkly beautiful landscape, with towers and canyons of ice as far as the
eye could see. From one vantage point, we could see flashes and palls of smoke in the
distance that signaled our objective. I asked Ari, my guide, how far away the
explosions were—they seemed to be a kilometer of two at most—and he shocked me
by saying they were probably closer to 80 clicks, at least another day’s travel. Ari
wasn’t the most talkative of people. In all the time I was with him, we probably spoke
only a hundred words, but he was quietly competent, and I was glad for his skill.
It was late the next day when we encountered troops for the first time, a battle armor–
suited patrol from the Swordsworn who recognized our sincerity and directed us to
their encampment. The base was a mix of prefabricated structures and caverns
carved into icy cliffs—a far cry from the public perception of a military encampment.
But the construction materials were typical of the chaotic field camps I’ve seen over
the years. A few words in the right ears quickly got us into the ad-hoc hanger, where
technicians were crawling over a motley collection of ’Mechs. I could see a couple of
upgraded AgroMechs and what appeared to be an unmodified miner, as well as a
Centurion and the shattered remains of a Spider, its blue Swordsworn livery badly
pocked and scarred, and its right jump jet and pseudowing torn away. No Ryoken
though, I observed.
“Came up against a point of Elementals,” said one of the technicians in response to
my queries about the Spider. “Jackson was able to hold them off for a while, but not
long enough.” The ’Mech’s cockpit was a blackened scar; the Wolf troopers had
clearly gone after the pilot in a “headhunter” attack that had been introduced by the
Clans when they invaded 80 years ago—a reflection of the relative value of machines
and pilots. To the Clan’s thinking—as the Steel Wolves still believed, apparently—
there were always more warriors, but never enough machines. So the most efficient
way of neutralizing a ’Mech was to take out its pilot.
“Yes, Elementals have been a major problem,” said one of the pilots a few minutes
after I’d been ushered into their ready room and handed a cup of steaming tea. “It’s
too cold for unsuited infantry to operate here, and many of our conventional ’Mechs
are having difficulty in the low temperatures.” I’d heard of petrochemical fuels
freezing on worlds back in the League, another reason why the armed forces of the
Captain-Generals preferred fusion-powered war machines. We’ve lost a couple of
pilots to the cold, too.” Because the average MechWarrior wore shorts and a T-shirt
in the cockpit to ameliorate the effects of excess heat, I could imagine the problems
that would ensue if one of them had to eject. “Yes, they have cold weather gear in the
escape kits built into their ejector seats, but those are good for only a short period.
And with all the anomalies and signal interference in the canyons, it can be hours
before the SAR teams get there.” Most MechWarriors were always on guard for the
debilitating effects of heat, but the enemy here was the cold.
We chatted for a while, but eventually I steered the conversation to the present
situation and the Swordsworn’s status after the withdrawal from Anqabad. “We’re
holding our own,” said the pilot I’d been speaking to. He suddenly became nervous
and looked behind me. I heard a click as the hammer of a pistol locked back, ready to
fire.
“You know, Cameron, I don’t really want to have to shoot you as a spy,” said a
female voice, tinged with the accent of the Marik-Stewart Commonwealth.
INN is pleased to announce a syndication deal with Black Border publications for the
rights to publish articles by famed political and war correspondent Cameron Shaw.
Mr. Shaw is best known for his coverage of the ongoing conflict in the former Free
Worlds League. His knack for being in the right place (or the wrong place, depending
on your point of view) at the right time has put him in the thick of many of the great
engagements of recent years. He reported from Albi on Manihiki as forces of the
Regulan Fiefs seized the city, and from Sophie’s World when the Oriente Protectorate
and Marik-Stewart Commonwealth clashed for control of that strategic world. He is
known for his long-running syndicated diary “Interesting Times, Dangerous Places,”
in which he portrays the great events of our time with a mix of humor and pathos.
| January 23, 3133 |