<<Next Chapter - Return to Story Index - Next Chapter>>
How did we end up here?
- Chapter 6 -[]
Amidst the desolate landscape of a salvage yard, I found myself hunched over a makeshift pulley system, muttering about the lengths one had to go to make ends meet. "If you look hard enough, toss aside enough debris, and raid some of the less well-known battle sites, you might just stumble upon some battle-damaged weaponry and mech salvage. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and right now, I'm in need of anything salvageable."
The pulley system creaked as I managed to haul up an ER PPC and a Gauss Rifle, salvaged from a Highlander 732b that had met a fate beyond repair. The feeling of victory mixed with a tinge of exhaustion as I surveyed my makeshift salvage operation. "Los-tech salvaging might be a messy business, but it's worthwhile if you find working weapons. A few more salvage trips, and maybe I can pull myself out of this financial pit."
As I sorted through the salvaged items, I couldn't help but grumble about the uphill battle I faced. "Selling these might put some c-bills in my pocket, enough to make do and pay the rent. Maybe even extend the renting time on the recovery vehicle. But let's not kid ourselves; there's still a long way to go."
The pile of salvaged equipment served as a stark reminder of the lengths I had to go to survive in this unforgiving Inner Sphere. "Life isn't about finding a treasure chest full of riches; it's about scraping together whatever you can salvage from the wreckage of your circumstances. For now, that means ER PPCs, Gauss rifles, and the occasional batch of functioning circuitry."
As I continued to work, my thoughts shifted to the struggles ahead. "Rent, vehicle expenses, and the relentless pursuit of a mech – it's a precarious balancing act. The c-bills from these salvaged items will help, but I need more. I need a breakthrough, a stroke of luck, something that tips the scales in my favor."
With a sigh, I glanced at the horizon, the vastness of the salvage yard stretching out before me. "In this salvage hunt, every piece counts. Mech components, weapons, even the seemingly insignificant bits – they all contribute to the puzzle of survival. It's a game of persistence, and I'm determined to play it."
As I wrapped up my salvaging operation, I secured the newly acquired weapons and tech. "There's value in the lostech of the past, waiting to be rediscovered by those willing to sift through the remnants. It might not be the most glamorous path, but it's a practical one."
Dragging the pulley system back into place, I muttered, "One step at a time. Salvage what you can, sell what you find, and keep pushing forward. The path to stability in this Battletech reality is laden with hurdles, but I've come this far – I won't back down now."
With the salvaged items in tow, I set off toward the nearest market to offload my finds. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm glow over the salvage yard, a stark contrast to the challenges I faced. "Here's to making do with what the Inner Sphere throws at me, one salvaged piece at a time."
Driving through the desolate landscapes of what used to be Belorussian land, I marveled at the solitude that stretched for miles around me. The snow-covered fields and the biting cold deterred most salvagers, making this location an ideal but less popular salvage site. Far from any remaining city on Terra, it provided a level of isolation that suited my current needs.
As I navigated the snow-covered terrain, I couldn't help but think about the advantages of being so remote. "Sure, the coldness is a challenge, and the snow makes everything more cumbersome. But being this far away from civilization has its perks. Fewer competitors, less interference, and a chance to salvage without the constant prying eyes of potential rivals."
The distant hum of my salvaged BattleMech recovery vehicle echoed through the empty plains as I approached a makeshift outpost. A small gathering of salvagers huddled together, their presence a testament to the lure of potential finds even in this icy wilderness.
After negotiating the sale of my salvaged weapons and tech, I took a moment to connect with an old friend from Sandhurst. Fingering my datapad/phone thingy, I dialed her number, the holographic display flickering to life.
<<"Hey there,">> came her voice through the communication device, a warm familiarity that momentarily lifted my spirits. <<"How's the salvage business treating you, Alexia?">>
I chuckled, the bitter cold air escaping my lips. "Surviving, if you can call it that. You won't believe where I am right now – in the middle of what used to be Belorussian land, surrounded by snow and silence."
Her laughter echoed through the connection. <<"Classic Alexia, always diving into the extremes. How's the salvage scene there? Find anything valuable?">>
I shrugged, even though she couldn't see it. "Managed to salvage some battle-damaged weaponry from a Highlander. It's not a gold mine, but it's something. I'm making ends meet, or at least attempting to."
Her tone turned sympathetic. <<"I heard about the job interviews not going well. Tough break, my friend.">>
"Yeah. Well," I sighed, "if I didn't mess up at Sandhurst, maybe I'd be in a better position now. But life has a funny way of steering you toward unexpected paths."
She paused for a moment before continuing, <<"Speaking of Sandhurst, I graduated as an Adept in the ComGuard. Doing pretty well for myself.">>
I smiled, genuinely happy for her success. "That's fantastic news! You always had the dedication for it. Unlike me, who ended up on the fringes of the Inner Sphere, freezing my tail off in the name of salvage."
She chuckled. <<"Hey, we all have our journeys. But if you ever decide to switch gears and join the ComGuard, I'm sure I could pull some strings to get you in.">>
I couldn't help but laugh at the suggestion. "As tempting as that sounds, I've become a bit too accustomed to the cold and solitude. Plus, I've got this salvage game to master."
We continued chatting for a while, reminiscing about our time at Sandhurst and the paths we chose afterward. It was a bittersweet conversation, a reminder of what could have been and what had become of us. As we said our goodbyes, I couldn't shake the feeling that my friend had found her place in the Inner Sphere while I continued to navigate its uncertainties.
Yet arriving at the outpost, I was met with a mix of dilapidated structures and hastily assembled tents, a stark contrast to the pristine halls of ComStar's more prominent facilities. The comings and goings of salvagers created a low hum of activity in this remote corner of the Inner Sphere.
Spotting a ComStar representative amid the bustle, I approached, my salvaged goods in tow. The rep, adorned in the familiar ComStar robes, looked up from their datapad, eyes narrowing in curiosity.
"Hello there," I greeted, trying to maintain an air of professionalism despite the bitter cold that clung to the air. "I've got some salvaged tech here, battle-damaged but still functional. Thought ComStar might be interested."
The rep regarded me with a hint of skepticism before nodding. "ComStar is always on the lookout for salvage, especially in these less-traveled territories. What do you have for us?"
I laid out the salvaged ER PPC and Gauss Rifle, carefully pointing out their condition and potential applications. The ComStar rep studied them, occasionally jotting down notes on the datapad.
"Interesting finds," they mused, their tone betraying a degree of excitement. "We're stretched thin out here, trying to uncover the remnants of the Battle of Terra. The lack of personnel and the harsh conditions make it a daunting task."
I nodded, understanding the challenges of combing through the vast battlefield that Terra had become. "Well, that's where I come in. Trained at Sandhurst, I know my way around salvage operations. I can help you uncover what might be buried out here, and in return, I get to pawn off the salvage I find."
The rep raised an eyebrow, considering my proposition. "You're offering your services as a salvager?"
"Yes, indeed," I affirmed. "I know the lay of the land, and with some resources, I could potentially uncover valuable remnants from the Battle of Terra. It's a win-win situation, wouldn't you say?"
After a moment of contemplation, the ComStar rep nodded. "We can arrange a partnership. Your knowledge of the area and expertise could be valuable. We'll provide the funds you need for equipment and repairs, and in return, you share your findings with ComStar. It aligns with our mission to preserve lostech and historical artifacts."
We finalized the agreement, and soon I found myself at the ComStar stock, browsing through their inventory of replacement parts and essential equipment. The outpost might have been humble, but ComStar's resources were evident in the well-maintained stock they had.
As I selected the necessary items, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. Perhaps this partnership with ComStar would be the turning point I needed. With the essential equipment secured, my BattleMech recovery vehicle in working order, and the promise of support from ComStar, I felt a renewed determination to navigate the uncertainties of the Inner Sphere.
With the exchange completed, I left the outpost, the cold winds whipping through the snow-covered plains. As I drove back to my makeshift salvage base, a sense of purpose fueled my efforts. In this vast wasteland, I was no longer alone, and with ComStar as an ally, I aimed to uncover the mysteries buried beneath the layers of Terra's battle-scarred history.
The drive back to my salvage site was a bone-chilling journey through the desolate expanses of what used to be the Belorussian Land. The biting cold seemed to seep into every crevice, even with the heater in the recovery vehicle struggling to keep up.
"Ugh, Terra, you're not winning any hospitality awards," I grumbled, my words barely audible over the howling wind. The landscape stretched endlessly, interrupted only by the occasional ruins of structures long forgotten.
The radio stations, my only companions on this frigid trek, blared a mix of music and news updates. It was a welcome distraction from the monotony of the journey, but the repetitive tunes and the drone of the news announcer's voice grated on my nerves.
"Note to self," I muttered, adjusting the scarf around my neck, "next time, invest in a playlist. These radio stations are driving me nuts."
The off-road nature of the terrain added to the challenge. The recovery vehicle jostled and bounced, navigating through uneven ground and patches of snow. Each bump sent a shiver through my spine, and I couldn't help but question the wisdom of traversing this harsh landscape in pursuit of salvage.
As I maneuvered the vehicle, I glanced at the untouched snow stretching in all directions. "Well, at least it's a good thing no one's out here to witness my questionable driving skills. The only audience is this frozen wasteland."
The hours stretched on, the landscape morphing into a sea of white. The occasional relic of the past, a rusted vehicle or the remnants of a building, broke the monotony. I grumbled about the lack of scenery and the persistent cold, yearning for the relative comfort of my salvage base.
Finally, the familiar outline of my makeshift salvage site came into view. I guided the vehicle to a stop, the engine settling into an uneasy quiet. Stepping out into the biting cold, I shivered and immediately regretted leaving the relative warmth of the recovery vehicle.
"Note to self number two," I mumbled, teeth chattering, "get a winterized BattleMech recovery vehicle. This whole operation is starting to feel like a terrible idea."
Despite the challenges, the salvage operation had become a lifeline in the face of financial struggles. I needed to make the most of the resources available, even if it meant enduring the harsh elements and the tedious drives.
With a sigh, I geared up for another round of salvaging, reminding myself that each battle-damaged piece I retrieved was a step closer to financial stability. As I ventured into the snow-covered battlefield, the wind howling around me, I couldn't help but grumble about the unpredictable nature of life in the Inner Sphere and the bitter cold that seemed to be a constant companion on this desolate journey.