Pimped out spacecraft blingin

The heavy transports were rolling throught the Gates that the Mechanics were bringing up all around the camp, Drivers in their black glasses and black dress uniforms grinning as they brought those dirty 18 wheels of hellish firepower to a stop along the side roads.   Our girls in their heavy battledress  were already forming up and getting ready to ride out across what was left the city, and gather up those who would be sent elsewhen away from the oncoming rush of the blow of battle.

Old skool Confed flags beside the banners of the US, the Iron Cross, the Jolly Roger, and other less known symbols of the Free Peoples. A wind was being whipped up by some wit who just loved to see all those banners and flags snapping in the gust.  The shield generators holding up great glowing canopies of force keeping the swirling dust, ash, and sprinkling rain from the band that stood on a make shift hover platform. Their Dirty Sweet amps screaming out some tune from the old Home.

Didn't seem so much a Last Stand, but more like old friends from everywhen coming together for the biggest party that this end of time had seen. The bands, the people and whatnot, warriors in the battledress of all kinds, bards singing, the kegs rolling out of the Gates held open wide so that even the largest transports and capital ships could cruise and hover over the ruins of the old desert city.  Trouble come a callin' and they had called us in again to take the brunt of the blow. Brothers, Sisters, and the inbetweeners come in for the take down. They stopped caring about who won or would loose,  it was just common knowledge among those who came that the Great Minds tucked quietly away in the elsewhen/where would bring them back into being whole and unharmed in a different place along The Flow.

Wares of all kinds were being sold, information traded, liquor guzzled, drugs injected - snorted - smoked by those who had just tagged along to watch this Last Stand. How many had there been? Who knew? They had lost count quite a few back, and only the Great Minds that monitored the events knew. When it was all said and done well we knew that one day there would be a final time and the party would come to end. Until then it was a crazy kind of Vallahalla life for them that rode along the Flow to the Last Stands.

We were just here really to do Gate duty and guide the transports through. Mechanics and Drivers, and the rare and highly skilled ones who could Tunnel and Drive at the same moment. Most of us that were at this one we from the old Home, anytime from the 1000 CE to 3000 CE. Ready to take payment and then be gone and let the clients have their fun while we got down to our own business, but then we all mixed business and pleasure.

When it came down to servicing a Last Stand we weren't lax about how we did business, it could get pretty wild out there with the heavy mix of realities that were out there to do battle. Alot of us didn't really like to pull that duty but we still took it in turns. It wasn't something that we looked forward to but made the most of. Lots of information to be learned, items to be traded and gathered, and often we picked up new crew to replace those that had drifted away or just plain gave up the search and setted down someplace. It was something that just happened. You found someplace or when that struck your fancy and you put down roots left the crews of the fleet.

It was a long haul back to Home, and we were just going on the fact that there was such a place at all. We pulled all kinds of duties along the way hunting her down, searching for a place where we cool our heels quietly not just for a while but make a new place for the Lady and her Children. For long ago it was said, "Mother is the name of God on the lips and in the hearts of all children.", and to be sure we were all her children and were accepted as such from birth to death and even beyond for those that had Become.

One thing is for sure though out there in the multiverse is not a place for the faint of heart to wander alone, and we didn't. Servicing the Last Stands, along with acting as spies, messengers, exploring the spaces between, riding shotgun over travellers from many times and places and most of looking for the almost mythic Home - that is what we did. Her wild Children wandering out across the networks of the Free Peoples.

Anyway we were camped out in a old church yard, great heavy black iron gates had been blown off sometime before and it looked like there had already been a minor tussle across the grounds. Clumps of dry desert earth that might have been a fertile green lawn were blown out in little craters where someone the locals had set up a defense against the onrushing of the light armored scouts that had dropped in from the up and out to do a little look see about site of the Last Stand this time. They weren't to subtle about things those ones, pop in - clear up the site, if the locals wouldn't budge then out came the guns. Anything from slugthrowers, to HEWs. Swatting flies with a sledgehammer it seemed to most of us who would rather just clear them out and gate them through to somewhere a little bit better for them in the long run.

We hadn't been called in to do the scouting this time, it was a service that we gladly took on as we tended to like to do a bit of sightseeing, wandering, gather up bits of local color and cuture before it was blown apart or sucked into another dimension by some whack job with a brand new spell they wanted to try out that half the time misfired and ate up a couple of 100 meters of reality. You'd be surprised, or maybe you wouldn't at some of the true high weirdness that came out in this grand battles, sadly most of time it really worked instead of being just some crackpots idea of a weapon. Not to many of us stuck around to see that kind of action though, just not our style. We might want to be heroes, but better to live to and be a live hero then a dead fool.

The light hovercraft, wheeled transports, some of the smaller grav-vehicles, and most of our own light security had fanned out over the city along with some of the girls who had come along in their heavy battledress to clear out those that we could and shift them out before the real fun started. What some have as a view of fun is just way past me though. Now we deal in death to but to us it's a just business thing. Drop intime from the great empty and rain hell down on some poor shmuck, lay waste to a city, and all that good jive but we didn't do it just to do it. To some we could be the villian, to others we were knights travelling between the reals.

We could be delivering some death here, and part of the fleet could be way out when/where bringing life to the dead, and gathering information that might lead to a cure for some ailing world where a plague was running it's horrible and nearly unstopable course, or gathering up the remander of some stranded crew. We did alot, got called on often, and we choosy about what clients we would take on. We had some that paid in the wealth of whole worlds, and others that some lone crew would just take on the mission as person quest to make things right as they saw it. We all had to answer to Her though, the Great Mother that we rarely spoke of, and fewer had even knowingly seen.