HdweuH Chpt 11

<<Next Chapter - Return to Story Index - Next Chapter>>
==How did we end up here?‎‎- Chapter 11 -==
----
Navigating the murky waters of the Puget Sound, I grumbled to myself about the relentless swampiness that seemed to have intensified since my last visit in 2022. The hum of the hovercraft's fusion engine was the only constant in this soggy landscape.
 
"Swamps, swamps everywhere," I muttered, scanning the surroundings with a discontented expression. My sensor readouts displayed an annoying lack of activity. "Come on, give me something to salvage, Puget Sound. Don't be shy."
 
The nostalgia of my previous visit clashed with the less-than-ideal conditions. "Back in 2022, I thought this place was a bit of a mess. Now it's like Mother Nature cranked up the swamp factor just for kicks."
 
The hovercraft glided through the dense vegetation, the occasional splash punctuating the swampy silence. "Sensor, you had one job, and that's to pick up some valuable salvage. What's the deal?" I grumbled, tapping on the console as if it would magically coerce the sensors into action.
 
The Puget Sound's terrain, a mix of waterlogged marshes and tangled vegetation, seemed to conspire against me. "Maybe I should've brought a machete or something. These swamps are out to get me," I muttered, steering the hovercraft through the water with a hint of frustration.
 
The memory of my previous self's experiences in this region felt like a distant echo. "Ah, 2022, when swamps were just a minor inconvenience. Now it's a full-blown aquatic adventure."
 
As the hovercraft pushed through the water, I couldn't help but grumble about the less-than-optimal salvage prospects. "If there's a hidden treasure beneath this swamp, it's doing a pretty good job of staying hidden. Thanks a lot, Puget Sound."
 
The surroundings remained stubbornly uncooperative, the sensors failing to pick up anything of value. "I need a sign, a blip on the screen, anything that screams 'valuable salvage here.' Is that too much to ask?"
 
The swampy landscape seemed to mock my frustration, the soggy terrain stretching endlessly before me. "Maybe I should've stuck to salvaging in drier, less swamp-infested locales. Lesson learned, Puget Sound."
 
With a resigned sigh, I continued to navigate the hovercraft through the stubborn waters, my grumbles mixing with the symphony of swamp sounds. The quest for salvage persisted, even if the Puget Sound seemed determined to keep its secrets hidden beneath the murky surface.
 
Muttering about the swampy inconvenience, I contemplated whether I should have stuck to drier regions for salvage. The persistent lack of valuable readings on my sensors was disheartening, making me question the wisdom of venturing into the murky unknown.
 
Lost in my thoughts, my absent gaze caught a faint, grey speck in the distance, concealed behind an overgrowth of foliage and towering trees. My attention snapped back to the present as curiosity piqued my interest.
 
"What do we have here?" I muttered to myself, guiding the hovercraft toward the mysterious spot. The grey became more defined as I approached, and without thinking, I directed the medium laser toward the thick vegetation, the burning beam carving a path through the dense obstacle.
 
"Laser therapy – the most effective way to deal with pesky overgrowth," I remarked, half-amused at the improvised solution. The foliage crumbled under the heat, revealing a concrete bunker, well-hidden in the heart of the swamp.
 
I squinted at the structure, recognizing a large door, easily wide enough for a mech to enter and exit. "Well, well. What's this hidden gem doing in the middle of the Puget Sound swamp?" I muttered, a spark of excitement replacing my earlier frustration.
 
The hovercraft glided closer, revealing the details of the bunker that had remained hidden for who knows how long. "This might just be the salvage jackpot I've been waiting for," I mumbled, contemplating the potential treasures that could lie within.
 
As I approached the bunker's entrance, a sudden noise echoed through the swamp, and dread gripped me as I realized the defense lasers were powering up. Panic surged within me, my heart racing at the realization that I might have stumbled upon an active and well-defended facility.
 
In a desperate moment, I fumbled to grab the Blackwatch ID card, waving it around in a wild attempt to signal my non-threatening intentions. "Hold on! I'm just a salvage pilot, not here to cause trouble!" I shouted, my voice betraying a mix of horror and desperation.
 
The defense lasers seemed to pause for a crucial moment, and in that window of uncertainty, I continued to frantically wave the ID card. "Please, please, don't shoot me!" I pleaded, acutely aware that a split-second decision could determine my fate.
 
As the seconds ticked by like an eternity, the laser turrets powered down, and the ominous hum of the facility's defense systems subsided. The large door creaked open, revealing the darkened interior of the bunker. Relief flooded over me, but the shock of the near-miss lingered.
 
With shaky hands, I carefully stowed the Blackwatch ID card, realizing it had likely saved me from becoming a charred wreck in the swamp. "Well, that was too close for comfort," I mumbled, my voice still carrying the tremors of fear.
 
Recovering from the initial shock, I repositioned the hovercraft, aiming to face any potential threats head-on. The panic lingered, and the realization of how close I had come to obliteration settled in. "Note to self: Salvaging in active defense zones – not recommended," I muttered, the sarcasm a feeble attempt to mask the lingering tension.
 
As the hovercraft settled into a defensive stance, I couldn't help but sigh in relief. "Not today, Puget Sound. Not today," I whispered, grateful for the stroke of luck that had spared me from becoming another casualty in the unforgiving swamp. The bunker's entrance beckoned, promising both potential treasures and the unknown dangers that lay within.
 
As I cautiously stepped into the bunker, the stale air hit me, carrying the scent of abandonment. The once-hidden Terran Hegemony safe house revealed itself as a relic from a bygone era, forgotten and sealed away from the elements. My flashlight cut through the darkness, illuminating the dilapidated surroundings.
 
"Wow, they really knew how to build them back then," I murmured to myself, my footsteps echoing in the vast storage room. The sheer size of the facility became apparent as I scanned the rows of empty mech bays.
 
Flashing my light across the expansive storage area, I marveled at the organization – neatly arranged rows of equipment and containers. "This place is huge. Four empty mech bays and rows of storage. What secrets have you been hiding?" I mused, my voice betraying a mix of awe and trepidation.
 
Estimating the dimensions of the facility, I speculated that it stood around 30 meters high, 150 meters long, and had a width of 60 meters. The sheer scale hinted at its historical significance, likely constructed during the height of the Terran Hegemony's influence.
 
As I continued walking toward the control center, my footsteps echoed in the silence. Nervous energy crept in as I considered the possibility that I might be the first person to set foot in this forgotten safe house for centuries.
 
"Okay, Alexia, deep breaths. You're just a salvage pilot exploring a relic. No need to get spooked," I muttered, my voice echoing off the walls. The control center loomed ahead, promising answers to the mysteries concealed within the bunker.
 
As I reached the control center, I spotted the ancient control panels covered in dust. With a mix of caution and curiosity, I began my attempt to bring the facility back to life. "Let's see if we can shed some light on this place, quite literally," I quipped, my attempt at humor an echo in the cavernous room.
 
Fingers danced across the controls, initiating a sequence that, for all I knew, had not been activated in centuries. The hum of machinery gradually filled the air as lights flickered to life, revealing the forgotten secrets of the Terran Hegemony safe house. The control center itself seemed frozen in time, an echo of an era long past.
 
As the room brightened, casting away the shadows, I couldn't help but glance around, half expecting to see the ghosts of Terran Hegemony personnel going about their duties. "Guess it's just you and me, old friend. Let's see what stories you've been keeping from the world." The nervous energy persisted, but so did the determination to uncover the secrets of this ancient relic.
 
Yet the anticipation mounted as the console's familiar Cameron Star icon rotated on the screen, a relic from an era long past. "Come on, old friend, show me what secrets you've been keeping," I murmured, a mix of excitement and curiosity driving my actions.
 
As the console booted up, the Cameron Star completed its rotation, and the comforting sight of the traditional interface appeared. I navigated through the menus with a sense of relief. "Thank the stars console design hasn't changed much in the last 600 years," I muttered, feeling a strange connection to the technology of a forgotten age.
 
With a few deft clicks, I accessed the power control menu and initiated the boot-up sequence. A soft click echoed through the control center, followed by the slow emergence of light row by row. The dormant equipment blinked to life, revealing a carefully organized cache frozen in time.
 
However, my excitement skyrocketed when I accessed the console's historical logs. The last recorded delivery date was in 2650, and it mentioned something that sent shivers down my spine – a Confederate-class dropship. A dropship! The potential magnitude of this find had me practically trembling with excitement.
 
As the lights continued to illuminate row after row of neatly stored equipment, my gaze fixed on the designated location for the dropship. The anticipation reached a fever pitch as the lights flickered over an empty space. Confusion etched into my features, and I squinted, hoping that maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me.
 
But the truth became painfully apparent – the dropship wasn't there. It had been taken during the Exodus, a plunder by SLDF forces desperate for resources and supplies during the mass exodus from the Inner Sphere.
 
My elation crashed into profound disappointment. "No... It can't be," I whispered, the echo of my voice reverberating in the now illuminated control center. Glancing back at the console, I traced the timeline of events, confirming the harsh reality of the cache's plundering during the Exodus.
 
The cache, once holding the promise of a Confederate-class dropship, now stood as an empty testament to the chaos and desperation of a bygone era. I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of loss and grief for the discovery that slipped through my fingers.
 
"Damn it," I grumbled, a mixture of frustration and sadness clouding my expression. The excitement had dissipated, leaving behind the stark truth that the once-proud cache had been stripped bare, leaving me with nothing more than an empty relic of history.
 
In the midst of my disappointment, as I absentmindedly navigated the console menu, I stumbled upon a hidden function. With a few accidental clicks, a section of the control center's wall shifted, revealing a secret door. My confusion peaked as I cautiously stepped into the newly revealed room.
 
To my surprise, the room housed a Datacore terminal – a relic of information storage from the lostech era. A surge of hope flickered within me, knowing that the Datacore held the potential for valuable salvaged data. However, that hope waned as I realized the Datacore itself was missing, likely taken along with the dropship during the Exodus.
 
Undeterred, I approached the terminal, my fingers dancing across the controls. Perhaps there was something salvageable within the console itself. As the screen flickered to life, a wave of disappointment washed over me – the data was corrupted. Yet, my determination prevailed, and I sifted through the remnants, hoping to salvage any fragments of information.
 
To my amazement, one file stood out – a map of SLDF caches, each corrupted except for a single entry. A Star League Industrial, Engineering, Medical Research Station. The console displayed coordinates for Lockdale, a system I had never heard of.
 
A burst of joy and disbelief overcame me. "Could this be it? Is my luck finally changing?" I muttered to myself, a mix of excitement and skepticism coloring my words.
 
Navigating the console further, I found detailed information about the Lockdale station, its purpose, and its coordinates. It seemed untouched by corruption, a rare gem within the sea of lost data.
 
"Hold on, Lockdale. I'm coming for you," I declared to the empty room, my voice tinged with newfound determination. This unexpected discovery offered a glimmer of hope, a potential windfall that could turn the tides of my luck.
 
After jotting down the precious coordinates in my notebook, a cautious thought crossed my mind. The data in the terminal, though corrupted, was still a potential target for scavengers or curious individuals. To protect this newfound lead, I decided to erase any trace of the information I had discovered.
 
With a determined expression, I accessed the console once more, navigating through its functions. My fingers moved with purpose as I deleted the cache's remaining data, leaving the terminal barren. The coordinates were safely secured in my notebook, the key to unlocking a potential treasure trove.
 
Satisfied with my clandestine cleanup, I took a step back and sighed. "Can't risk anyone else stumbling upon this," I muttered to myself, realizing the importance of keeping the Lockdale coordinates a secret. I couldn't afford to let my only lead slip through my fingers.
 
In a decisive move, I raised my laser pistol and aimed it at the terminal. A series of shots rang out, the laser beams punctuating the silence of the room. Each blast served as a guarantee that the secrets within the console would remain mine and mine alone.
 
As the acrid smell of scorched metal filled the air, I couldn't help but feel a sense of closure. The terminal, once a bearer of lostech mysteries, now lay in ruins, its secrets buried beneath melted circuits and charred components.
 
I exhaled, the weight of my actions settling on my shoulders. "Sorry, old friend, but some secrets are better left forgotten," I mumbled, acknowledging the necessity of destroying the terminal to safeguard the information that could reshape my destiny.
 
With one last glance at the now-dismantled console, I turned away, my eyes fixed on the coordinates in my notebook. Lockdale beckoned as the potential key to a brighter future, and I was determined to unlock its secrets, no matter the challenges that lay ahead.
----
<<Next Chapter - Return to Story Index - Next Chapter>>
011