The Scour

Our heroes are still in the dark, dank underground. After a few hours of troubled sleep, the group picks up their gear and makes their way toward the area named "Testing Range" on their map. Ben and Carlos are still suffering from their wounds, but as Carlos cracks jokes again, he, at least, seems on the mend. The testing range is deep underground, its only access tunnel is 500 meters long. Also, it is booby trapped. Dan finds the claymore mine hidden in a makeshift barricade, and is nearly blown up when he tries to detonate it from a safe distance. Another blast wave rolls through the underground. The men look at the sagging ceiling of the tunnel, but the concrete holds - for now. Dan picks himself up. He has suffered some scratches and bruises: Ben chides him for playing butterfingers while he patches him up. They move on.
At the end of the tunnel, they find a large, closed bulkhead. Its surface looks corroded. Next to it, there is small console with a keypad. Ben examines it, and the little screen flickers to life, as a voice warns of imminent power failure and permanent shutdown of the door system. Cursing, Ben and Mal break out their electronics tools and work on the lock. A few seconds before the countdown runs out, the bulkhead groans and shivers and finally inches open - then it stops forever. The opening is just big enough to squeeze through.
Behind the door, wonders await. The room is nearly as large as Command Center 1, and its ceiling vanishes up in the darkness. The steps of the men echo in the large, dark space. The bulkhead has protected this room from the rust and rot: Only some dust is lying on the floor. But that is of secondary interest. In the middle of the floor, on a cross between of an operating table and altar, surrounded by limp robotic manipulators, lies the Scour - The UAV attack drone Predator Mk VI. The predator drone shimmers white in the darkness, its pristine surface untouched by the ravages of time. The letters "USAF" are stenciled on its flank, ancient runes promising swift destruction. The predator points upwards, into the darkness, as if a single word or gesture could command it to burst to the skies. In front of this imposing artifact, a single computer console stands like a pulpit. Its monochrome screen flickers dimly in the darkness, and an ancient needle printer is attached to its side.
This is a tremendous find. The industrial robots alone are worth a fortune, the tools, containers and machines on the walls and surrounding the launch pad speak of high tech long lost to most of humanity. Ben fiddles around the workstation: Its monitor is broken, but the printer still provides a working interface to the machine. José and Mal have a look around the drone: It seems to be build for heavy combat, with multiple hardpoints and a stubby 20mm chaingun protruding from its nose. After a while, the printer stops, and the group ponders the meaning of the yellowing strips of paper. The Scour seems to be close to operative, it just needs some fuel. There seem to be some fixed options how to employ it - and during the Fall, someone tried to disable this dangerous war machine, but failed. His maudlin letter is one of the last working files on the workstation and addresses a legacy-team - whatever that may be.
The Scour presents an unique opportunity, and the explorers debate how to make the most of it. There is the temptation of cutting the beast loose, just to see what it can do and to become a warlord, a king, with this tremendous weapon enforcing one's authority. But how would one maintain this weapon? Mal's proposal is taken up - sell the thing to the judges in Memphis, as LAW would be able to use this kind of technology and tends to honor contractual obligations.
The men leave the Scour on its strange altar and search for an exit from the underground.
When they finally reach the surface, their environment has completely changed. Not only that they have appeared at a different point of the airfield: While they were exploring the depths, a thick fog rolled in. The ancient wrecks and rows of flying machines are shrouded in white mist, their shapes distorted, vanishing and appearing like ghosts. The creaking of the rusting fuselages and wings, the distant howling of wild dogs greets the group.
After getting their bearings, they tortuously make their way through the jumble of aluminum and steel and reach the lip of the depression. As they finally make out the shapes of their vehicles in the fog, Dan stops the group: Others have been here, their tracks are all over the place! The men ready their weapons, spread out and cautiously approach their cars. There is no ambush, but someone has worked over their cars with spears and crowbars - and left a skull and a necklace of human fingerbones on each hood. The Pla'thun have found the group. The solid armor plating has prevented the attackers from doing irreparable harm to the engines or entering the cars and plundering the group's stash, but while Mal's full-body tires are still whole, Ben's normal tires have been slashed.

Now what? Mal's tires would fit on Ben's car, so why not put them on, go to Mercy, get spares and return? Mal resolutely rejects the idea as crazy talk - leaving his car here to get Ben's car to safety on his own tires, tires he paid a fortune for, not to speak of the expensive modification for his car? And this while his own is slowly taken to bits by the Pla'Thun? No way, no way at all! Ben's temper flares, and for a moment he contemplates just shooting Mal or siccing Carlos after him. Mal senses the change in mood and his hands inch towards his Ingrams. The two face each other in the mist, and the threat of violence hangs heavy in the air. Dan senses that something has to give, or the expedition will end in bloodshed. He grabs a grenade from his belt an raises his voice. "Attention! Crazy man with a grenade coming through! Everyone calm down, or nobody is going home. I saw some tires in one of the hangars. Maybe they fit. I say let's go there and have a look and let's shoot each other later." This display of rabid common sense calms down the two car-owners. Ben and Carlos stay with the vehicles, while the rest stalks back to the airfield to look for those tires. (Some authorial liberty taken with the preceding section)
Two hours later, the three return with four tires. The things are not exactly up to spec, and mounting them will be be a hassle - but it beats shooting each other over four tires. Ben and Mal get to work, while the rest keeps lookout for the Pla'Thun. The mechanics are working on the last tire, when the ferales come into view. The females approach the lip of the depression, creeping from one hiding hole to the next. An attack is imminent: José and Dan rush back to the cars, where Ben fastens the last screws on his jeep. Everyone enters the vehicles, the two engines start to life, and they are off, leaving the Pla'Thun behind.

The voyage back to Mercy appears as a cakewalk: The explorers just have to move east until they meet the route of the Corridor - no need to look for vanishing landmarks. In the evening of the second day, the familiar office tower of Mercy appears in the distance. But rest is denied to the adventurers. Father Ataxerxes (who is very happy to have his chemsniffer back) tells them of two dozen mercenaries under the command of one Dread McQuinn, who came through Mercy just two days ago. The were looking for Ben, and him specifically. While the good father was able to hoodwink them into going further north, to Compassion, it is just a matter of time until the so-called Black Flag Mercy Company will return. Mal does not like the involvement of this group at all. He has met them in the past: They are dangerous professionals, as well equipped as a judge's entourage but lacking a judge's compassion and scruples. To mess with these hardened killers would invite disaster. Ben seems to have an inkling why these consummate manhunters have been sent after him, but he does not tell - and the others do not pressure him to share his suspicions.
Although the priest offers refuge to the group, at least for the night, everyone knows that the explorer's presence puts Mercy in great danger. The men wake the mechanics of Jackson's Garage and purchase working tires for Ben's jeep. After hurried farewells to the good father, the two vehicles roar off into the night, leaving the homely lights of Mercy behind them.

People met:
- none

People met their demise:
- none, although Ben is still wounded and Dan suffers from some bruises and cuts. Carlos leaves the group in Mercy, taking some of the group's equipment with him.

Man of the match:
- the crazy man with the grenade