Guided by the Wind

Doubling Back

After the ceremony is completed, Nochehuatl stands quietly for a little while longer, then looks around at his companions.  "And now we must begin to move again.  As we return towards the crash site, we should not take the easy path of simply retracing our steps; our tracks from before can at least serve the useful purpose of laying a false trail.  As before, I will move ahead and scout... looking especially keenly for more of those creatures, as I imagine we all will be."

Xoco nods silently and shoulders her makeshift pack again, ready to take her place in the cohort.  This time, she vows silently, she will be more alert to the threats of this jungle.  She looks up at the thick canopy, trying to see which way Lord Night Wing is breathing, then shakes her head.  Whoever he speaks to, it most assuredly won't be her.  Maybe that's just as well.

She returns her gaze to her companions as they start moving, and follows the last of them as she did before the attack.

Yaotlquauhtli murmurs, "North it is, then."  Shouldering his makeshift war club, and on the lookout for another that would be more serviceable, he prepares to make his way back through the jungle.  At least without the cape and headdress he'll be less easy to spot in all the green, and it will be easier for him to make his way past the underbrush.  He winces, for his wrist is still broken.

Finished with securing her charge, Centehua Matlalihuitl looks about the trees to see if they whisper and dance Lord Night Wind's intentions. She gathers her tree-limb war club and joins the procession in silence, alert to all around her.

Yaotlquauhtli glances over at Nochehuatl briefly.  "Perhaps we should head in the direction where we last heard the disappearing mechs.  There's something distinctly unnatural about that, and by dropping us here Lord Night Wind may have been telling us that we had a job to do.  It's a rather long way to Tepeyolohtli anyway, and doubtful that we could just walk all that way.  Especially in this jungle."  He looks over the remains of the creatures that attacked the small group, his nose wrinkling slightly in disgust.

Chipotle, so overwhelmed by the beauty of the impromptu ceremony that he ignored Yaotlquauhtli's broken wrist, suddenly shakes himself and walks over to administer what aid he can.  He gives Yaotlquauhtli's wrist a thorough examination, then wraps it up using vines and bits of cloth.  Finally, he makes a sling and puts the arm in it.  The injury, though painful, is no longer debilitating, and the Jaguar Warrior bravely hefts his club in his other hand, ready to go!

The next several hours are spent in much the same manner as the last - toiling through the jungle.  This time, without a stream to follow, the going is slowed somewhat, but this is rather made up for by the fact that no one has to drag a travois along anymore.  As before Nochehuatl leads and Xoco trails, with the rest of the group strung out in between.

Upon approaching the original crash site, however, the Yaoquizque make a rather startling discovery - nothing remains of the Butterfly.  It has vanished completely!

Careful where she steps, Xoco approaches the edge of the clearing left by the crash.  She tries to stay out of Nochehuatl's way, in the hopes that he can make some sense out of the jumble of destruction and perhaps find any tracks.  But she wants to have a look-see of her own.

How did this happen?  Did the Stone Motions simply airlift the wreckage of the Papalotl?  She scratches her head, trying to remember the cargo space on the mechs.  But even so, there was so much wreckage that must have been picked up by hand...  She drops to one knee, looking at the ground near the furrows left by the crash, looking for any hint of who conducted the cleanup operation and how.  Why would be a better question, but she doubts she'll find any clues to that here.

The Butterfly is gone.  There is not a scrap of metal, ceramic, or cloth remaining.  The crash site is, however, still there.  Trees are still broken.  Ground is still churned up.  Vegetation is still mangled.  Even the fire pit remains.

Nochehuatl stands, frozen except for his eyes, which flicker back and forth across the scene.  Seeing Xoco begin to examine the ground, he waits a few moments, then asks, "Is there any hint of what's happened here?  Tracks fresher than our own?"

He turns to the others.  "Does anyone know of any weapon, or other device, which can simply destroy everything wrought by the hand of man or god, but leave the rest untouched?"  He shakes his head.  "This is as far beyond my understanding as... simply causing two Stone Motions to vanish in mid-flight."  He waits for any response.

While the others are carefully going over the crash site, Chipotle keeps watch. While doing so, he is also looking for 'disturbed' vegetation indicating the direction the butterfly was taken (if not through the air).

Centehua, who had been keeping ever alert as the party toiled back through the jungle, strides up to where Nochehuatl and Xoco are.  What did Nochehuatl mean the Butterfly had just vanished?  But as she surveys the crash site, she finds his words to be true. Her eyes narrow. This was not done by ordinary warriors. This has been done by powers that rival the Gods.

When she finally speaks, her words are solemn.  "Nochehuatl, while I think we should look for any clues while it is still light, I think it is urgent that we try to connect with Lord Night Wind tonight.  Whoever.... or whatever did this," she pauses as she nods to the empty crash site, "has great power."

Walking into the clearing, trying to get a feeling for what may have occurred there, all Yaotlquauhtli can think of is that the gods had to have had something to do with all this.  It just isn't something that happens in the everyday world.  He turns to Nochehuatl and says, "Just like the Stone Motions.  Disappeared without a trace.  Something's very wrong here, too, and I'd wager quite a lot that the gods are in some way involved.  Now all we have to do is figure out if we need to do anything and what that anything would be, and then do it without invoking their wrath."  He shoulders his makeshift war club, and glances northward.  Then to the east and west.  "Oh yes, I forgot - we have to figure out where to do it, as well."

A thorough examination of the crash site reveals that there are no tracks, no trails, no sign of anything having been dragged away.  And not a single scrap of Butterfly anywhere.  Even the smallest fragments have disappeared.  Larger pieces of the wreckage that were imbedded in trees or the ground are gone, but there is no indication that they were dug out - they seem to have simply disappeared from wherever they were.

"Hot damn," mutters Xoco, still crouching at the edge of the clearing.  "Whatever is going on, no wonder if Lord Night Wind wants to hear about it.  I just hope we get to report back..."  She glances at Nochehuatl.  "Well, fearless leader, how about double quick time wherever the wind leads us?"  She shifts her hold on her gear, unclenching the unnaturally tight grip of her hands.
 

The Place Beyond

The party continues through the thick jungles, heading in the direction that the Night Wind blew.  As the hours pass and they continue to toil through the heavy undergrowth, Tonatiu begins to sink towards the horizon once more, though the sullen red light of Ixlanticutli will continue to provide light for some time.  It is in this reddish light that the war band encounters a new and bizarre feature on the landscape.

Imagine a circular pool of oil.  Now imagine it fifty meters in diameter.  Now imagine that instead of lying on the ground, it hangs from a rock escarpment in defiance of gravity.  Occasional ripples move across its surface.

Both Xoco and Nochehuatl notice that there is some sort of metallic object at the foot of the "oil pool".  It is about four meters square.

Instinctively, Xoco drops into a crouch behind the cover of thick vegetation, slowly poking her head up to peer at the phenomenon.  Her lips move soundlessly as she mouths what is probably a silent expletive.  Her eyes widen in awed fascination.

Nochehuatl stares.  "Lord of the St--... Night Wind..." he whispers.  "Does anyone have any idea what this is?"  As though knowing that the answer will be negative, he goes on.  "Well, this is certainly big enough to swallow those Stone Motions... and the Hummingbird... and nearly anything else I can think of."  He pauses, staring at the 'oil.'  "Does anyone have anything to say?  The Night Wind has led us here, so our responsibility is clear.  I am inclined to spend a while observing from concealment, but if nothing happens, we'll need to investigate more closely, starting with the only item of metal we've seen in a while," he says, gesturing towards the bottom of the 'oil.'

The Chichimec shudders and turns towards Nochehuatl, looking tense.  "I think I'm the best at moving quietly," she whispers.  "If you want, I can get closer to scout it out."  She smiles wryly, and shakes her head, anticipating recommendations of caution.  "I don't plan on trying to go in alone unless you ask me to."

Chipotle stops and stares at the 'pool'; he does not even try to hide. It seems familiar somehow...

Centehua strides to a stop as she comes into sight of the "oil".  "By the Gods!....." she whispers, as she feels a light wind on her face as sees it dance across the oil pool.  She is mesmerized by it for a few moments... the way it ripples... reflects the light... hangs in mid-air from a rock escarpment.  Finally able to shake loose from the oil's spell, she whispers "Do you think the Stone Motions flew in there willingly, like some sort of space fold entrance and exit, or do you think they were swallowed by it?" She flashes a glance at Chipotle, hoping for some shred of information on the workings of folding space.

She frowns a bit with Xoco's offer to scout.  "I agree with Nochehuatl that we should spend a few minutes observing.  If that... oil," she says, motioning to the hanging pool, "pulls you in, we have no obvious way of getting you out!....  Maybe we should throw a stick or a rock by it to see what happens..."  The oil pool catches Centehua's attention again, as the wind gently traces its fingers across the surface.

Xoco shakes her head again.  "I was thinking of checking out the equipment below the... below it," she whispers, pointing to the metallic object at the foot of the 'oil pool'.  "But yes, we should look before we leap..."

"Always good advice," says Yaotlquauhtli, who also hasn't bothered to hide.  Anything that powerful most likely wouldn't need to see them if it wanted to know they were there.  Not to mention more mundane sorts of sensors that could notice them coming.  Leaning against a tree, he shifts his club to a more comfortable position.  "I'm afraid that sneaking about isn't exactly my forte, but if you want at least one good club arm along I'll volunteer."

Never one to shine by her patience, Xoco grits her teeth while Fearless Leader seems to consider the situation.  Finally, she can take the wait no longer.  "Right," she mutters.  With this, she starts moving...

Centehua grabs Xoco, and pulls her back, "Wait!" she whispers, "something's moving...." She does not look at Xoco, only at the 'oil' pool, and maintains her grip on Xoco.  "Something isn't right.... Something is moving... at the sides of the pool....  Something is going on with that pool!..."  She stares intently at the pool, her gaze leveled at about 40 meters off the ground.  She seems to almost hold her breath, like she can almost, just barely, make out what it is.

Chipotle, has been staring at the pool. But not only with his eyes. As he starts to whisper, it becomes clear that he has not heard either Xoco or Centehua 'Yes, I am starting to understand... It is something similar to foldspace. I can feel it in the same place.' touching his chest, 'Just what I am not sure.' His eyes narrow, 'There is something else. Something moving along the edge. More like the sense of movement than an object.'  Chipotle moves slowly, deeper into the foliage, 'Perhaps it is the door guardian.' It is clear to the others that he is looking at the same place as Centehua.

Nobody else sees anything.

Xoco stares at the "oil", then at Centehua, then at Chipotle, then back at the strange phenomenon, straining to discern the movement they speak of.  She finally shakes her head.  "I don't see a damn thing," she whispers.  "But don't you guys think it might be a good idea to take cover and move away from this spot now?"

Nochehuatl waits a few more moments, looking at the "oil."  Then he nods and begins to murmur, "Everyone, stay as hidden as you can.  Disperse, very carefully and slowly, while staying in the foliage.  Let's not make it easy to take us all out in one... shot, or whatever.  When you find a good hiding spot, dig in."

Xoco nods wordlessly and starts following Nochehuatl's instructions, moving under cover of the vegetation. She does her best to slink to a spot that will afford her the best possible view of the phenomenon while keeping her hidden.  She also tries her best to keep track of where the others are moving to, at least as far as general area goes.

Centehua nods without taking her eyes off the pool.  She breaks her trance briefly to find a spot that will afford her cover, yet allow her to clearly see the pool.  She quickly moves into her spot, and continues again with her observations.  As she watches, she absent-mindedly twists the tree limb war club she carries in her hands, tense and unsure of what she is witnessing.

Yaotlquauhtli glances over briefly at Nochehuatl.  "What exactly are we waiting for?  Something to emerge?"  Then he shakes his head.  "I suppose it's better than marching up to the thing and asking if anyone's home.  Just come find us if we end up waiting too long, okay?"  He moves quietly around the clearing, looking for a good bush to use for cover.

The Yaoquizque all fan out and hide themselves as best they can, disappearing into the thick jungle foliage.

Minutes pass - the strange cries of the jungle animals, and the sound of their own breathing are all that the Yaoquizque hear.

After twenty minutes of waiting, Xoco sneaks through the underbrush, seeking Nochehuatl.  After a few minutes of looking, she finds him hidden behind a fallen tree.  When Xoco finds him, Nochehuatl nods, as though he'd been expecting this.  "All right.  Go and see what you can find out, but err on the side of caution."

Xoco nods.  "Don't worry," she whispers, "I value my hide.  I'll check it out and report back."  With this, she starts moving back towards the strange phenomenon.  She takes an indirect approach and moves very cautiously, so the yaoquizque who don't know what is going on may start getting impatient.  She hopes none of them will do something to attract attention, but must trust it to their judgment.  She represses a small shudder.

This has become important to her in a personal way.  She'll show them that the Chichimecá are not only bold, but also smart.  She devotes all possible effort to her approach, intent on making it perfect.  She creeps up a little bit at a time, senses alert, carefully checking on the objective at every stop to make sure there is still no visible activity and she has not attracted attention.  The closer she gets, the longer the pauses becomes as she strains to detect any clues on what is going on here.

Centehua, seeing nothing move again at the "oil" pool, has now had time to reflect on what Chipotle said about some guardian.  With her curiosity now piqued, and grasping for some sort of explanation, she makes her way through the area of the jungle where her comrades have scattered looking for him.

Xoco creeps forward, using every scrap of cover available as she moves towards the metal thing at the bottom of the oil pool.  The others catch sight of her only intermittently through the foliage.

At last, after much toil and effort, she is approximately 50 meters from the metal thing.  Suddenly, there is a ripple of motion to the left and right of the "oil pool"¹.  Two indistinct shapes seemingly ripple across the face of the rock - each around 30 meters tall.  Two beams of hellish purple light shoot out, one from each area of movement.  Where they touch trees, grass, plants, birds, all organic matter simply melts away without a sound.  Xoco only barely avoids melting herself, leaping aside as a foot-wide purple beam sweeps past her by inches.

As the shapes begin to ripple into motion, the Yaoquizque realize at last that they are facing Warrior Skins - of the Shadow Walker Empire!

"Amhimitl's prickly dick!" swears Xoco, yelping as the purple beam nearly hits her.  "What in Mictlan's latrines are those things???"  She rolls away from the vitrified area and dives headlong for cover behind the nearest rock formation.  Then it occurs to her that she may be the only one spotted so far...

"Shit, shit, shit!" she mutters between clenched teeth.  She just may have to act as a distraction to cover the others' retreat...

Spirit Warriors have encountered strange, "invisible" foes out on the borders of the Spirit Warrior Empire.  They attack without warning, often wiping out entire War Parties from ambush.  Little is known about them.  None have ever been captured, and no wreckage has ever been recovered from battles. Thus far they have not made any major incursions into the heart of the Spirit Warrior Empire.

Until now, that is.

Yaotlquauhtli starts slightly as the purple beams sear the jungle floor, breaking himself out of his bored trance.  He sighs quietly, reflexively picks up his makeshift war club with his good hand, and slinks quietly back to where he figures Nochehuatl is probably hiding.

Nochehuatl tenses as the strange skins attack.  Battling these things with sticks and fists is simple suicide, with no chance of success.  He would be willing to die of course, but not to no gain.  On the other hand, that is one of his team mates out there.  He prays urgently to Lord Night Wind that she will manage to reach cover, even as he finds himself readying for action -- what action, he does not know.

Xoco begins sprinting for all she is worth, trying at the same time to keep as much cover between herself and the invisible Warrior Skins as possible.  More purple bolts evaporate sections of the forest around her, and one of the shimmering forms begins moving in pursuit. Oddly, it seems to leave no imprints of its passage through the forest (other than the destruction wrought by the purple beams).  The other form seems content to stay by the oil pool and fire at Xoco from there.

Meanwhile, Yaotlquauhtli manages to sneak over in the direction of Nochehuatl without drawing any fire.  He quietly edges up to Nochehuatl and says, "Seems to be a bit of a difficult situation.  My suggestion would be a strategic retreat until we can figure out a distraction.  Still, Xoco herself may be enough of a distraction if that other one would just move away from the target."
 

Still cursing fluently, a skill learned long ago in the depths of the Ehecalli asteroid belt, Xoco makes a brisk change of direction, suddenly doubling back to run towards the Shadow Walker!  Zig-zagging in a crazy pattern, she seems to be hurling invectives at the enemy Warrior Skin, while making wide sweeping motions in the vague direction of the yaoquizque.

"Get to cover!" she yells.  "I'll try to distract 'em!"

Chipotle sprints into the jungle at his stately pace (he's a thinker, not an athlete).  Centehua snaps to attention as she sees Xoco run back towards the Shadows, as if she was about to call Xoco back.  But she stops and composes herself.  "She has the heart of a true warrior, may that be said of all of us!" she says aloud.  "I will not hide in the jungle like a frightened animal!  If I am to die, I shall die a warrior!"  she hisses through her teeth.  With that, she begins to quickly gather stones and vines to make a sling and a bola.  She chants as she quickly collects, blessing the work before her:
 

Come Huitznahua!
Hear us now!
Your brave warriors
bound for battle!
Bless our weapons,
that they may find their mark
and bring our foes to their knees!
Huitznahua! Hear us!
Delight in the fight!
Be honored and bless us,
your brave warriors!
Our rewards will be paradise!

She pricks her finger, then hunts for and collects large, roundish rocks, one half a pound to a pound in size, and strong vines she can braid into a sling or a bola.  As she finds each rock or vine, she marks it with a bit of her blood from her finger as part of the blessing.

As Xoco sprints towards the indistinct shimmering that has been pursuing her, multiple beams of violet energy flare from somewhere within it, striking the ground all around her and causing everything they strike to melt into a thin goo.  Miraculously, Xoco dodges through the hail of fire unharmed and continues forward.

Stunned by the ferocity of the Shadow Walker's assault, Yaotlquauhtli can only watch as the further of the two enemy Warrior Skins lets loose a fusillade of violet energy.  To his horror, one of the beams strikes Nochehuatl, reducing him soundlessly to nothing more than goo!
 

Rescue!

Before the Spirit Warriors can even begin to mourn the loss of their companion, a large, dark shape comes blazing into view at treetop level, moving fast but eerily silent.  There is a muffled "WHUMP" from above and millions of pieces of shiny metal strips begin to rain down all around the area.  The dark shape resolves itself into a Night Fury² class transport which hits the ground in a clearing near the warriors with bone jarring impact - half a combat landing, half a barely controlled crash.  Personnel loading hatches in the back and sides of the craft pop open, though the Warrior Skin bays remain closed.

"Lord Night Wind be praised!" Centehua exclaims, and begins to run  towards the smoke shrouded Night Fury transport.  Coughing from the smoke that stings her eyes, she refuses to slow down, running as fast as she can towards the craft.  The Gods only help those who help themselves, and she aims to help herself to a Warrior Skin if she can get at them.

The blurred form of the Shadow Walker near Xoco opens fire on the Night Fury, but fires wildly into the obscuring smoke and jamming foil.  This cover will not last long, though, and the assault transport is only lightly armored.  It cannot stay long.  The Shadow walker appears like nothing more than a flicker out of the corner of your eye.  Of course, it appears as a rather LARGE flicker, but Xoco really has no idea of its shape or outline.

Xoco, seeing a pleasant alternative to death as a meaningless distraction that no one was taking advantage of anyway, abruptly changes course, practically running under the Shadow Walker's feet -- or where she supposes the Shadow Walker's feet might be anyway.  Still zigzagging as best she can, she plunges into the cloud of smoke put out by the Night Fury, hoping it will help reduce the chances of her being vaporized like poor Nochehuatl, right at salvation's doorstep.

She fleetingly thinks about prayer, Centehua's chant still ringing in her ears, but the thought is discarded as quickly.  Xoco's talents and inclinations just don't go that way.  If and when she gets a moment to rest later, she'll try to remember to shrug at the stupid idea.

As the Fury's Doors crash open, Chipotle alters course and starts to run towards the shuttle. He briefly wonders if a big, slow moving -- albeit armored -- ship is the best defense against ghost mechs. Well, one must leave Fate to the gods...

Yaotlquauhtli smiles humorlessly.  Lord Night Wind takes care of his own.  Yaotlquauhtli had known that something would present itself, and with his blessing even the Chichimec might survive long enough to do some good in his name.  Taking a solid grip on the makeshift war club with his good arm the Chantico warrior shouted out a war cry and began pelting through and around the foliage toward the Night Fury.

As the Yaoquizque individually dash through the various loading doors of the Fury a voice comes over the far talker "Strap down!  Strap down!"  By the time Yaotlquauhtli makes it through the voice has changed to "HANG ON!" and the engines of the Night Fury are already winding upwards.  As quickly as they opened the loading doors slam shut on the heels of Yaotlquauhtli as another voice yells "CLEAR!  GO!  GO!  GO!" and the Spirit Warriors feel the deck lurch underfoot as the Assault Lander takes to the skies once again -- nose up, like a spear thrown at the heart of Tonatiu himself.  The young warriors are thrown about like beans in a basket, but everyone -- even the injured Yaotlquauhtli -- manages to find something to hold onto as the ship accelerates hard.

Then something smacks the Night Fury like a child hitting a rubber ball, and again the Yaoquizque bounce about.  This time both Chipotle and Yaotlquauhtli are not so lucky.  Chipotle loses his grip and flies one meter into a bulkhead, while Yaotlquauhtli bounces off the ceiling and one wall before coming to rest on the floor once again, painfully jostling his broken arm and giving himself a good crack on the back of the head.

Seconds later there is a lurch that seems to come from the inside of each warrior's body, and the Night Fury enters the realm of Yacatecutli.  The ride immediately stabilizes and the Spirit Warriors can pick themselves up from wherever they have fallen, or let go of whatever they were hanging onto for dear life.

Again the far talker comes to life.  "Welcome aboard Warriors of Lord Night Wind.  Please go directly to the chamber of Ixquitecatl³.  If you require assistance, please locate the nearest far talker."
 

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