Long Distance Call [Fanfic in the Tankiverse][Ch 8 One-Eyed Man]

[Hippin_in_Hawaii 639]

Long Distance Call

CH 8 of the One-Eyed Man Saga

 

With the Firefly free, Nyx suddenly became the center of attention in the camp. Between judicious use of the flamethrower (Nyx decided to admit she had full access to all the tank’s functions) and some skillful driving, she was able to burn out or flatten roots, rocks, and lumps throughout the campsite, as well as push the boundaries back a little bit. 

 

Once that operation was finished, she worked with Electra, connecting the Firefly’s generator to the transport’s jury-rigged radio system, allowing for continuous broadcast of high power directional pulses. 

 

Nyx maintained the fiction that she was unable to operate the other tank, making a show of entering her personal code and having it be rejected. She still wasn’t sure why she was protecting that secret, like she still wasn’t sure why she was protecting Lam’s nearby hidden presence. How those secrets may help her when the subject of the saboteur arose, she couldn’t imagine, but she did hope that having a couple of cards up her sleeve would prove more useful than harmful.

 

A week passed. Nyx had conversations with everyone. The subject of sabotage did come up, and often. That they had been sabotaged, everyone agreed. That the saboteur had been on the flight, everyone also agreed. The flight crew didn’t point fingers at anyone but were steadfast in their belief it hadn’t been them. The command crew refused to enter into speculation, which was certainly appropriate. Nyx certainly pointed no fingers but found herself in the uncomfortable position of not being sure what she thought. She was confident that no one from her tank was responsible for the crash, and almost as confident that no one from the other tank was, either. Almost. So, she listened carefully to what others had to say and tried to keep her own mouth shut as much as possible.

 

In the meantime, she did what she could to be useful. The tank’s drones could be used to scout the surrounding area, so they had some extensive imagery of the surrounding treetops. Infrared imaging would pick up any approaching threats, and the aerial relays would increase the range of the NetHands communication abilities. There were only three drones, though, and their time aloft was limited.

 

Late on the afternoon of Nyx’s eighth day in camp, they received a faint signal, a directional pulse from a NetHand, from the jungle to the west. The Command second, Hep, got to his device first and shouted the news.

 

“We’ve got a signal! West by southwest!”

 

Nyx ran to her Firefly, followed by everyone else. Once inside, she scrambled a drone in that direction. After it had covered several kilometers, they were able to establish contact.

 

“Approaching unit, this is Nyx, do you copy? Over.”

 

“Good to hear a friendly voice again, Nyx. This is Hek. Over.”

 

“Hek! So good to hear you too! How are you? Is there anyone with you?”

 

There was a lengthy pause before Hek responded. “I’d like to hear your sitrep first, if you don’t mind.”

 

From his perch outside her open hatch, Apollo grumbled. “What’s that all about?”

 

“Sir,” said Nyx, “she’s bound to have figured out that we were sabotaged. That’s going to make her a little cautious in deciding how to approach us.”

 

“How would she know that?” Apollo asked.

 

“The stator locks, sir, they…” Nyx began.

 

“Make a very distinctive sound, yes,” interrupted Apollo. “You all keep saying that.”

 

“Ping!” exclaimed El, from outside the tank where everyone else was gathered to listen.

 

“Fine, let me have the mic,” sighed Apollo. “Hek, this is Apollo. We’ve made camp at the wreckage of the transport.  Aside from Nyx, both Flight and Command crews are present and unharmed. Survival and regrouping are our current priorities. Are you well? Do you need assistance?”

 

“Thank you for that, sir. We have two injured, myself and Crow. Also…”

 

The signal cut off. Apollo and Nyx looked at each other. Nyx quickly checked the drone’s status, but it was functioning properly. She looked back at Apollo and shrugged.

 

“Apollo to Hek. Are you there? Your transmission cut off.”

 

“Sorry, sir. There was a monkey. Anyway, we’re both wounded. My leg was cut when I bailed out, and we think that Crow cracked some ribs on landing. We’re doing ok, but don’t walk very fast. It will take us several days to reach you.”

 

“Understood, Hek,” replied Apollo. “Stand by.” He stood up, and waved Nyx to get out of the tank, then addressed the group. “I’d like to help them if that’s at all practical. Thoughts?”

 

“A small group of us could hike out to them,” offered Pan. “I’d volunteer; it’s not like I’m accomplishing anything being co-pilot of that wreck.” He gestured at the derelict transport. “Two or three of us could really take the load off of them. Handle the trailblazing, help carry their supplies, let them concentrate on just moving forward.”

 

“What about the tank?” asked Hep. “Surely it would be faster, and they could ride back in it.”

 

Nyx looked thoughtful. “I can’t really move any faster than a person walking, not through a jungle like this. Picking a path between trees and watching for soft spots is slow going; a person on foot would actually be faster and probably get to them first. Being able to carry them back would definitely be a bonus. But if the tank were to get stuck in some mire, or high-centered on a fallen tree, not only would they have to walk back anyway, but they’d have to turn around and use their tank to come rescue mine.”

 

“Can’t you just burn a road to them?” asked Hep.

 

“Not effectively or safely,” said Nyx, shaking her head. “A large, living tree takes a while to burn down to nothing, even at plasma temperatures. And with that much heat, even in a wet place like this, setting a forest fire is a real possibility. If you want a road, small bursts, controlled burns, and lots of bulldozing are the methods. It would take far longer to reach them than it will take them just to walk in.”

 

“We’re using the drones to communicate, right?” asked Electra.

 

Nyx felt a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. El was right; if they took the tank into the jungle, she wouldn’t be able to launch drones. They would be out of communication with the survivors until they got closer, and by that time, they may lose contact with the base. The other tank also had drones, but since she’d lied about being able to get that one operational, suddenly she found herself standing in moral quicksand. 

 

“Why does that matter?” asked Hep.

 

El waited for Nyx to answer, but when she hadn’t after a moment, continued herself.

 

“If we send the tank to rescue them, it won’t be able to launch drones from under the jungle canopy. Without the drones, we’re back to the limit of NetHand transmissions. By the time the tank gets close enough to them for clear contact, it may be out of range of this camp.”

 

“Too bad we can’t get the drones from the other tank flying,” sighed Apollo.

 

Nyx hadn’t thought that the pit in her stomach could get any deeper, but hearing the situation articulated aloud as her own tangled thoughts ran screaming in circles around her deception somehow helped the guilt manifest itself more intensely. What to do? Protect the secret that, maybe, could end up turning the tables on the saboteur? Or come clean, and help her friends? 

 

“Well, we can’t do what we can’t do,” mused Apollo. “Nyx, what are the chances of us losing the tank? Getting it stuck, high-centered, or otherwise disabled?”

 

“Um…” Nyx tried to focus on the question. “As long as we take our time, not that high. If we had a person or two scouting ahead, checking the ground and marking paths through the trees, and assuming there’s not particularly bad terrain between here and there…”

 

“Got it. Lots of ‘if.’ Volunteers?” Apollo looked at the group; all hands were raised. “Ok, which of you has had advanced field medical training?”

 

Hep, Art, and Pan kept their hands up.

 

“Ok, Hep and Pan, you two will accompany Nyx. Your mission is to locate and retrieve our comrades. Hep has operational command of the mission; Nyx has command of the tank. You will leave in the morning, after breakfast. Questions?”

 

After allowing a moment and seeing there were none, Apollo climbed back up on the tank and reached through the hatch to grab the comm microphone.

 

“Hek, this is Apollo. Find yourselves a comfortable spot to camp for a few days. We’re sending a ride to pick you up. We’ll be in contact tomorrow morning to confirm your direction, then we may be out of communication until the rescue team gets close enough for your NetHand to reach directly.”

 

“We understand, base. Commencing operation ‘Put Our Feet up.’”

 

 

 

Mahalo (thank you) for reading; I hope you enjoyed! This story is part of a series. Information on the series, and links to the other stories, can be found here.