I, KE2ENSKY
A BattleTech Novel
Story by RogueBaron
Editing and Proofreading by SulliMike23
First of all, Happy New Year everybody!
It is still vivid in my memory the first words I put when I started I, Kerensky a year ago. It said "When I opened my eyes, I saw only light." Those were the words that changed my perspective forever. I, Kerensky was a story of irony, a story of choice, a story of a man given all the opportunity to define his future. He chose, and he chose to the best of his ability. He chose the course he thought to be the best for himself, and for those he cared about.
Through I, Ke2ensky we will follow Parker, an ex-Wolf Clan ristar as he struggled to live the consequences of his choices. Each decision leads to consequence, but is the consequence worth the losses and the pain? This is a dark vision of a man's dream to live his life, told through the eyes of Parker himself (my second fanfic in 1st-person POV). It will be darker, bleaker, and more depressing than the first one. But fret not: we always have hope. And no matter how glint the hope is, if you believe in it, you'll come to a point when you open your eyes, you see only light.
A mighty thanks for SulliMike23 for providing insights, ideas, supports, proofreadings, and the 160 Davion Guards the Shooting Stars. Without these aids, I, Ke2ensky is not what it is. A special thanks for Texray1 for graciously offering his help, although we both know you have a wonderful and busy life to live. Thank you. And for all fans and readers, thank you for your continuing support. I hope this sequel will not disappoint you. We authors feed on reviews, so drop me a line or two. Tell me where I can improve, tell me where I did it wrong.
BattleTech / MechWarrior and all its components are copyright of FASA, Wizkids, Activision, and Micro$oft Entertainment.
The Shooting Stars and all its components are copyright of SulliMike23.
All rights reserved.
Rated T for graphic violence, gore, strong languages, and mild sexual references.
ONE
Solaris City, Solaris VII,
Freedom Theater, Lyran Alliance,
January 15, 3062
The blinding sun forced me to shield my eyes as I stepped down the ramp of the dropship, along with dozens of people, vehicles, and even mechs. The refreshing air filled my lung, wiping out the remnants of the stale, recycled air in the merchant ship that was my home for months. As my feet trampled the soil, I paused a moment until my eyes were adjusted to the bright surroundings. I stretched my limbs under the warm sunray, and for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being on a planet.
Solaris VII was the last place I could think of as my new home. I had some training as a technician during my short stay at Hogye, three years ago. I thought that living as an arena repairman was the best course for me. I did not know anybody here. Warriors and battlemechs would come and go like wind, and people would be busy keeping track of their champions and their money, they would not pay attention to repairmen like me.
Pathetic, quiaff?
I, a Kerensky, the first among Clan mechwarriors, humiliated myself by coming to Solaris as the lowest rank of human being, hiding from war that was my destiny. I, a Kerensky, voluntarily lowered myself to the 'laborer caste' of the Inner Sphere, cowering under the sand of the arena, hoping that one day I could remember what I was and what I went through prior to Engadine, so I could make things right.
When I came to the booth, the person gave him a yellow slip with a number in it. "Third row, last door on the right."
I looked at the slip with blank stare. "What am I supposed to do with this, Sir?"
The person gave me a derogatory look. "What are you, pirate? You think Solaris is a bar? This place has authority, and everybody that gets in has to be accounted for, even if you only live for the weekend. Read the instruction on the slip! Now move your ass from the line, or I'll call the security guards to drag you out of here!"
So that was how everything worked. Still, he got me wrong. "Pardon me, Sir, I do not come to fight."
The officer scoffed. "Do I look like I care? Get off the line, dickhead!"
There were questions burning in my head, but I reckoned staying here longer only invited trouble. So I cleared the booth and observed what other people did with the yellow slip. After passing the booth, people took their slips to a row of tables, and gave the slip to the officials, along with their codex. Well, there was no codex on the Inner Sphere, only ID. I pulled out my fake ID, made by the CAMR, then slowly cruised in the traffic. Hopefuls from all over the universe jammed the tables, trying to find their way toward the glory that were Solaris arenas. Jets screamed above our heads, and fanfares roared in the distance, as if calling us into their bloody pits.
Once again, the Inner Sphere had surprised me beyond beliefs. I had never seen so many people waltzed into their deaths voluntarily. Such a waste of lives. These warriors, young and eager to face their bright future, were drawn into the sparkling glamour of Solaris, oblivious to the fact that only death awaited. Those youngsters, if trained in the right hands, could be fine warriors in the future, but instead they fought for c-bills.
But then, who was I to judge them? Look at me… I was no better than them. Maybe even worse.
"Next!" the Solaris official finally called me up. I gave him my slip and my fake ID, and he spent some time staring at me, scanning me from head to toe. Although smaller than archetypal Clan mechwarrior, my appearance was different than most Spheroids. Lucky for me, the official did not pursue his curiosity any further. He stamped my ID and took the slip, and freed me to the street. From the corner of my eyes I noticed that he still gave me one last glance before the guy behind me hollered at him, asking him to work fast.
I found some warmth as I strolled on the streets. It was the closing of a season, and I thought people would too busy to notice a stranger like me. But every corner of Solaris City greeted me in a friendly fashion. I kept going until I saw a bar, Thor's Shieldhall, and decided to go in. My experience living in the Inner Sphere stated that a bar was the best place to find up-to-date information.
The smell of alcohol reeked as I entered the bar. Smoke hovered in the air, and the sound of music blended with voices of half-drunk men. The bar was only half full, but those who occupied the seats sure kept the waitress busy. As I took a seat on one corner, I overheard several people talking about their exploits on the arena. Some of them were talking about fancy moves they invented to dispose their opponents, none of which realistic. Others talked about the virility of their mechs which - according to them - 'could drill new holes on the O'Bannon's sisters'. The alcohol must have knocked them out of their senses. I could not help but smile.
"Welcome to Thor's Shieldhall," a waitress greeted me, cutting off my eavesdropping. "My name is Emi, I will be your server today. By the way, you're not a familiar face. First timer?"
This waitress, jet-black hair with nice smile and pretty eyes, showered me with interest and enthusiasm. I guessed she never met a Clansman before, but she did not know what one looked like, so she probably just saw me as a freak. Nevertheless, her hospitality piqued my interest.
"Yes," I replied. "What is the specialty of this place?"
"Depends on what you have in mind," she answered. "Just straight beer or something stronger? If you like beer, let me offer you Heineken, imported from Tharkad. You know Bavarians, they love their beers. If you prefer something stronger…"
"Beer is fine," I nodded. It was more of curiosity than craving for alcohol.
"Sure," she popped a bottle for me. "Enjoy your beer. Anything else I can do for you or do you want just a beer and a silent afternoon?"
I saw a perfect opportunity to dig some information from her, so I played along. "I could use a company, as long as you do not get into trouble talking during work hours."
"I've been back-to-back since 8 this morning," she smiled. "This place is always busy. One little break won't hurt my timesheet. By what should I address you, stranger?"
"Parker." I watched her reaction as I said my name. She did not put interest in it.
"So Parker, what's your story?"
"Nothing interesting so far. I am a mechanic, and I want to try my luck at Solaris. Some places like VEST do hire good mechanics. That is the reason I am here."
"So you're not a mechwarrior?"
"Why do you think I am a mechwarrior?"
"This is a place for Solaris jocks," she explained. "Well, low- to mid-level Solaris jocks. They come here to… uhm, tell stories about their accomplishments in the arena. High-level Solaris jocks hang out at Valhalla Club, although what they do there doesn't differ much than what people do here. A mechanic being here is… rare." She took a seat in front of me. "So, a mechanic, huh? You must've loved mech so much. There are not a lot of people I know who eloquently admit that he's a mechanic."
"There are two kinds of worker: the ones that do the work, and the ones that take the credit. I prefer the first one, because there is less competition."
I could tell that I got her attention. Her pupils dilated, and she sniggered. I did not think my comment was that funny. But I could tell that she was so sick of listening to the drunken braggarts that only a small anecdote about them got her off. "You're different, Parker. You talk different, you look different, you think different than most people I know. Where are you from?"
This was a critical question. I did not know if Emi had the capability to see a lie, but I could not just tell her about my past. I had to deflect her question and direct her to fit my interest. "A lot of places, here and there. I did not stay long at one place because I did not find what I like. I hope I can find it in Solaris, being the place for the wildest mechs and all."
"I see," she receded. "I might be able to help you. There's this stable master that is a regular of Thor's Shieldhall. I hook you two up if you're interested. It's no VEST, but the first step is always the hardest one."
"Sure," I coined interest. "What do I owe you?"
"Give me a visit sometimes when you're big," she winked. "And leave me a big tip."
"That I can do," I smiled. "Where can I see this fellow?"
"He's sitting at the corner near the bathroom. His name is John Daniels. I'll let him know…"
"No, you have done enough," I slipped several c-bills on her hands. "Thank you."
I did not wait for her comment. I quickly zipped past several customers and waitress, and found the man without much difficulty. He was a middle-aged man with unkempt beard and cluttered cloths. Beer bottles lined up in front of him, but the way he was chugging his liquor did not show that he was stopping anytime soon. I had a vision that his stable was struggling to stay alive, just by the look of him. But I was lucky to meet him on my first day at Solaris. I could find work immediately.
"Mister Daniels, I presume," I offered him my hand. "My name is Parker. Emi told me that you might be interested in a new mechanic."
A curt guffaw slipped past his mouth. "Get out of my sight, boy! Mechanics don't interest me! What I need is a good pilot!"
"I am a good mechanic Sir," I kept on campaigning for myself. "You will not be disappointed."
"Are you deaf, boy? I don't need a mechanic! Mechanics suck! I need a good pilot! Now unless you're a mechwarrior, you can kiss my ass goodbye!"
I saw that there was no use talking to a drunken man. I gave him my smile, then I left his table when unexpectedly he called me, "Hey, hey, hey! Are you a mechwarrior?"
"I am a mechanic, I told you that," I replied. "I do not want to be a mechwarrior."
"You are, aren't you?" he guffawed, spewing the stench of alcohol. "Why are you wasting your time finding a job as a mechanic when you can fight in a mech? You're wasting your talent!"
I knew he was drunk, and his words were mostly driven by alcohol, but what he said was the sanest logic I had heard for a long time. I did not know how much I blushed, but I felt my face hot. I shamed myself by looking for a job as a mechanic, while my specialty was fighting in a mech. Worse still, this came out from a man who was half conscious.
"I guess I can ride a mech a little," I replied sheepishly, "but I do not want to work as a mechwarrior."
"Good! You're hired!" he yelled, patting my shoulder. "Meet me tomorrow at my stable!"
"Mister Daniels, I do not think you know what you are saying," I protested.
"Ah, well, we can always leave formality for tomorrow. Yeah, that's right! Tomorrow! Don't be late!"
Before I could rebut his comment, he left me and went back to his table, ordering a couple beers more. What did just happen? I was just recruited as a mechwarrior. He said that he was looking for a good mechwarrior, but he did not even ask for my dossier. Perhaps it would be the best if I just ignored what happened. I did not want to work for some drunkard I picked up at a bar.
"Excuse me… Parker?"
I did not recognize that voice. I turned around, and a young couple was standing about an arm length from me. The guy was a fine-looking man, obviously a military officer although he was dressed in civilian uniform. The woman was slim but firm, and I could be easily mistaken her for a civilian if it was not for her sharp eyes. I could recognize military personnel just by the way they looked at me.
Strangely, I had never seen them before.
"Pardon me, have we met before?" I prodded.
"No, but does the name Evee Ridinghood mean anything to you?"
How could it not? It meant everything to me. We parted at Outreach, months after she broke into Jade Falcon's stronghold at Wotan to get me out. Ah, Evee, how I missed her. It was still vivid in my memory her welled-up eyes before her dropship took her back to her home, New St. Andrews, away from me. I still remembered how close I was to jump into the dropship. Hearing that name tore up an old wound that started to heal.
Well, I would take it back. The wound would never heal.
"Who are you?" I spiced up my voice with hostility. "How do you know Evee?"
"My name is Kyle Garret, 160th Davion Guards," the man explained. "This is my fiancée Natalie Gibson. I don't mean to intrude, but I overheard you mentioned your name. Evee told me about a Parker when we were working together at Carver V 3 years ago. I just want to see if you are the same Parker as she told me."
I felt as if a sword was driven straight through my chest. She told me about the horror of Carver V, with every gory detail that still lodged in my head. She told me about this Davion soldier that helped her through her darkest hour, when her unit was decimated and she was critically wounded. She found her strength in this Kyle Garret guy. I could not imagine what Kyle would think of me if he knew what happened to us.
"Look, it is a difficult time for us," I tried to flinch. "Excuse me; I have an early day tomorrow."
"Where is she?" Natalie pressed me. "I want to meet her."
"She… she is home."
"Home? New St. Andrews?" the Kyle guy frowned. "Did you leave her?"
"I did not leave her!" I defended my action. "You do not know the whole story. My brain was damaged during my initial encounter with the locals at Engadine. I do not have a memory prior to 3058. I did not know who I was when I met her. She helped me find myself by going with me to Arc Royal. She helped me decide who I wanted to be. I would give anything just to be with her.
"But I carry with me a dark past that I did not know anything about. Part of it attacked us ensuing Arc Royal. I could never forget that day. The hopeless look on her eyes, pleading me to protect her, but I could barely protect myself. You would not believe what I did to make sure she went home secure. Three years I had to endure hell, and she had her own hell on Carver V. I love her more than anything, but I could never put her in that situation again. This is the best course for both of us. So do not judge me!"
By this time, I realized that I started drawing attentions from other customers. They stared at me, and the ones that pretended to ignore me were prepping their ears high, trying to catch every word I said. I did not know why I became this expressive. Perhaps hanging out with freeborns for a long time slowly turned me into one.
"I know," Kyle responded with a low voice. "She told me everything."
I watched their expressions. They did not have to say it; I knew they sympathized with me and Evee. If only I could be with Evee the way they were together… Their togetherness gave me a strong sensation. I could not help depicting Evee and me standing side by side, the way they did in front of me. This thought was killing me.
"Then let us assume this conversation never happen," I averted my eyes. "I do not like to talk about it."
"Our apologies," Natalie replied. "We always thought you found your ways to be together. Anyway, a friend of Evee's is a friend of ours. If there is anything we can be of assistance, let us know. We would be glad to help you."
"Your help will be greatly appreciated, but there is no need of it now," I nodded politely. "I can find my way around."
"Likewise," Kyle replied shortly.
I left the bar, mad as a wounded beast. I never met him before, but I did not know why I held so much grudge against this Davion man. I hated him, but with no particular reason. I tried to find the reason, but I guessed it was just pure envy. It was surprising, though. I never thought I had the capability to feel envy. And I did not even know why I was envious. Because he had a fiancée? Because he was there when Evee needed somebody? Because he was everything I was not?
It was interesting to see myself change. I had been drifting into an antisocial grouch that hated life since Evee faded from my life. And the Davions were nice enough to offer me assistance, out of respect for Evee, but I took it offensively. I regretted it, but I could not help it. I missed her so much, I lost interest in anything. The vibe of life that pushed me to defy my heritage was there no more, taken by the vanishing blonde that was my spirit.
Then I remembered about John Daniels. Perhaps I could give him a chance.
