FOURTEEN

Steiner Coliseum, Silesia,
Solaris City, Solaris VII,
Freedom Theater, Lyran Alliance,
April 5, 3064

I stepped into the arena sweating with anxiety.

Even before I stepped out of the hangar, I could hear the thunder that was Silesia spectator, chanting the name of 'Mad' Maxwell, the hometown hero. This was just the first heavy match of this season, but the stadium was already sold out. The return of Maxwell to beloved Steiner stadium created such a cavalcade that nobody could hear the names of other combatants. But for Silesia spectators, they did not matter. All they wanted to hear was Maxwell, and all they wanted to see was Maxwell mowing down other mechs one by one, until he lasted the victor. However, they did not make me nervous.

No, I was not afraid of Maxwell. I watched his videos, and I could see some loopholes in his defense, which I could exploit. He was good, but he was not as good as what he implied in his antics. After watching his previous fights, I believed that his championship streak was largely influenced by Steiner's dirty hands behind the scene. He did not make me nervous at all.

Daniels' strategy to oust Maxwell made me nervous. More than fifty thousand pairs of eyes would witness me pulling off the biggest cheat in Solaris history, and the victim would be Steiner's own poster boy. I did not understand why Daniels could not foresee an uproar if we proceeded with his plan. Was it because Silesia was a more civilized district than Cathay? Or was it because Daniels felt comfortable sitting on top of a pile of money? How much money could he spend to make fifty thousand Steiner loyalists happy?

And then, the Clan in me still despised any wrongdoing against zellbrigen. Well, this was not entirely zellbrigen, and I had been stealing victories here and there. But what we planned against Maxwell was utterly disgusting, even by Inner Sphere standard. I thought the Grey Wolves were low. It turned out that I had not seen everything at Solaris.

No, I would not do it.

"Joey, listen to me," I tried to undo the setup. "When the horn rang, get out of Maxwell's line of fire. I will take care of him."

"Mr. Parker, we can't back out now. I carry special instruction from Mr. Daniels to cover you while you move into position. I will carry my order no matter what."

"Daniels is using you!" I lost my patience. "His order is suicide! Turn you mech away from Maxwell!"

"I can't do that Mr. Parker. I will set up Maxwell for you to kill. I will be happy to assist you."

"I did not need your assistance, freebirth! Do what I say and just save yourself!"

I did not know why I use that epithet. It seemed that I slipped often when I was on the brink of rage. I never meant to insult anybody, although this Joey guy deserved a regiment of insults for his retardation. Was this a sign of recovery, that I was getting my memory back? Or was it a sign of deterioration, that I lost more and more self-control? I did not know the answer. Nevertheless, there was a gap of silence, then Joey came back to me in full force, "What did you say?"

Before I had a chance to reply, the horn blasted. I glanced over the shut down button for a second, and decided I would not do it. My mech was covered by Romanesque pillars, but I could see Maxwell's Mad Dog, or Vulture in Spheroid tongue, making its way to the center. Joey paced his mech from the right corner, going straight toward Maxwell's line of fire. It was a stupid maneuver.

I remembered fighting a Mad Dog. It was a nasty long-ranged omnimech with blazing speed. At close range, it was not that effective, so it usually paired up with its soul mate, the Helbringer. But the omni design made it easy to overhaul. Maxwell used 4 Clan Streak 6-pack missiles instead of the traditional LRM-20's, and reduced the laser load to 2 medium pulse lasers. It was a wise choice, considering most of the encounters in Solaris arenas were brawls. Joey's Dragon would not stay long against the horde of streak missiles.

I hit my throttle, bringing my mech into a sprint. A Crusader blocked my path. It was funny to see one of the Star League designs still making appearance in modern era. The Crusader fired its missiles, but I did not hear a ring on my console. The missiles were not locking on. I simply leaned 20 degrees on my left leg, letting the missiles sailed harmlessly on my right, and sprinted past the befuddled 65-ton relic. Before it could realign its cursor, I made a tight bank to the right, leaving it stranded behind the pillars.

Joey carried out his order single-mindedly, attacking Maxwell in full force. His autocannon belched fire, spitting rounds after rounds of munitions. But Maxwell showed his quality by dodging most of Joey's marksmanship, although a couple shots punched holes on his armor. His pulse laser continuously pounded the Dragon on the torso, and his streak missiles hit Joey like a drum, one after another, keeping Joey on the defense almost the entire time. Soon enough, Joey's torso went red, and he lost almost two third of his armor.

I had Maxwell on my crosshair, and I hit my trigger. Two ruby strands stabbed the Mad Dog at the back, turning armor into bubbling jelly. I did not want to hurt him. I just wanted to get his attention. But when Maxwell ignored me, I sent my missiles flying in the air, pounding him right where my lasers struck five seconds ago. The Mad Dog lurched forward, and its rear armor caved in into numerous cracks.

"Sonofabitch!" I heard Maxwell spat out his frustration. "I thought you were better than that!"

"He is not worth it Maxwell," I swerved to his left flank. "Pick someone your own size!"

"From my point of view, he's as big as me," he cackled, obviously referring to the Mad Dog and Dragon having the same tonnage. "Wait your turn!"

He showered Joey with his Streak missiles, half of which tore a nasty gap at Joey's left torso. He left me no choice. I hit my RAC button. A long rattle shook the Argus as dozens of traces leapt from the gatling-like right arm, shoving the Mad Dog to its right side. A series of curse flooded comlink, accompanying ferro-fibrous splinters that rained down on the sand of the arena. I kept the pressure, keeping the omnimech off balance, then made a quick turn to my left.

"You know what I mean," I growled, firing my lasers. "Leave the kid alone and fight me."

"If that's what you wish, Davion!" he turned around and quickly released a dozen Streak missiles. "Let's see what you're made of!"

One of the most dangerous close-range weapons in existence, the Streak missiles quickly closed up on me and pounded me from every direction. The force of the explosions threw my crosshair off. I kept my course, circling him, but before I could realign my targeting reticule, another set of missiles swarmed me. I yanked the joystick backward, keeping my mech in balance as the missiles poked it left and right. Then two sets of laser slammed into my missile launcher. I returned fire with my RAC, but Maxwell outgunned me with his continuous stream of missiles. Once again the missiles struck my torso, throwing my target, and the excess RAC munitions flew in the air and blasted the thick plexiglass that shielded the spectators from stray fires.

I inspected my Argus. I had given up about one-third of armor. Maxwell's Mad Dog was virtually unscratched barring the rear armor, and I still had difficulty beating his rhythmical blasts. But by the way he fought, I knew he would soon overheat. The question was whether my mech could weather the storm until then.

His missiles came again, and I pushed my mech into a crouch. It did not help. The missiles flew above my head, but then looped and slammed into my rear armor. The shockwave pushed my mech forward, and I would have crashed into the console if the harness did not nail me to my command seat. My armor tracker turned bright red, and a couple of his pulse laser coerced it to blink. Maxwell knew how to shoot, and his marksmanship peppered the most vulnerable spots on my mech.

However, I started to see signs of overheating. Maxwell fired his lasers a couple more times, then dumped a copious amount of coolant. Smoke and steam rose from his mech. He proceeded with his much-loved Streak missiles, but the targeting computer would not allow it to make a correct lock. For the first time through the entire fight, he missed.

It was my turn, then.

I rose up to my feet and hit alpha strike button. The muzzle flash of my RAC, the fire from my rockets, and the blitz of my lasers blinded me for a short while, and all but three missiles cored Maxwell right on the center torso. The 60-ton omnimech writhed sustaining my assault. I kept my finger on my RAC trigger, strafing Maxwell's torso just under his cockpit. As quickly as my lasers recycled, I added them into my onslaught. The continuous rattle of my RAC made my ears numb, and I knew they would be ringing for a long time. But I could not afford to give him his edge. I had to press my attack, keeping him fighting on his heels all the time.

Maxwell squirmed, trying to break free from my pressure, but I used my missiles to keep him off balance. Clan's ferro-fibrous was better than Spheroid's counterpart, so I knew I would need more pressure to break the Mad Dog's defense. I followed his movement, keeping my RAC burst short and centered, avoiding jamming that was the weapon's notoriety. When I rested my RAC, I made up with my lasers and missiles. Soon, Maxwell's center torso bled fire and smoke.

I kept moving in circle, and almost reached Maxwell's blind spot when missiles struck him from his right flank. Joey joined the fray, clubbing Maxwell with his remaining weapons. But his attack negated my pressure. Maxwell regained balance, and in a flash fired his Streak missiles. I twisted to the right, covering my RAC from the missiles. As a result, the missiles ripped my launcher apart. Three consecutive explosions pushed my mech to lurch right. I was fortunate I only lost my left arm. I could have lost my left torso in ammo explosion. But still, I lost 35-percent of my offensive capability.

"Joey, get away from Maxwell!" I screamed in exasperation. "Do not interfere with my fight!"

"Say what you want, Clanner!" Joey replied. "This frakker is mine!"

His lasers pounded Maxwell in the midst, pumping smoke and drips of molten metal from point-blank range. But Maxwell was in full flow. Two dozen of Streak missiles slammed into Joey's midst, breaching both arms and wiping the remaining armor. The Dragon backpedaled several steps before slumping, landing squarely on its butt. Joey struggled to get up, but without arms, his futile effort ended in a pond of leaking coolant.

"Maxwell, leave him alone!" I shot a RAC burst at Maxwell's side. "Fight me!"

But Maxwell ignored me. He waited until his weapons were all operational, then fired his alpha strike. His missiles swarmed Joey like a tsunami. The Dragon did not take long to explode. A bonfire took the place where the Dragon sat a minute ago, and the ejection pod was swallowed by the pillar of fire, burying Joey in his fiery tomb.

"What did the kid call you?" Maxwell turned to me, guns at the ready. "Clanner?"

"It is none of your business," I put my crosshair squarely against his smoking torso.

"No wonder you are so adept at Clan maneuvers. Have you no honor left, trashborn? First you fight for money, now you side with the Davions. Then you double-teamed a Steiner… at Steiner Coliseum. Do you really think those small feats of yours will earn the sympathy of the audience? Because if you do, I applaud your idiocy."

"I am no longer a Clanner, and I am not a Davion," I growled my response. "Come on, let us finish it like you wanted it to be finished."

"What I want," he fired his missiles, "is you at the bottom of a bonfire!"

His missiles chastised me again, and I could hear mnemonic warning signs erupted from my console. But I pushed my throttle forward, using the impact and explosions as a boost to break into a sprint. Maxwell did not expect this, and before he knew it, I was at his blind spot. He twisted frantically, trying to catch me from the other side, but I already had the advantage. All I had to do was to keep and use it.

My RAC roared again, sending depleted-uranium slugs to the scar at the Mad Dog's back. Once again Maxwell reeled forward, but his reflex saved him from crashing on his face. He pivoted to the left, swinging left to catch me, but I maintained my advantage, ripping his rear armor with RAC-laser combination. Soon my munitions reached its reactor shield, and I could see blue light spewed from the crack. Radioactive waste seeped into coolant container, torching the green fluid. Fire bled off the wound, and the Mad Dog twisted and staggered, losing power and the will to continue the fight.

"You may win this round, Clanner, but don't think the war is over," he hissed as he limped toward a corner.

"I have no desire to take part in your civil war," I replied.

"Bullshit! Kill me, and all Steiners will unite to burn you and all the Davions!"

"I do not want to kill you, Maxwell. Yield and walk out of here in dignity."

"Hah! Go to hell with your hegira!" Maxwell raised his turret to hit me. I had no choice but to singe him with a long burst of RAC. My metal drones pierced the remaining armor on his torso and drilled his engine. A blinding flash leapt into the sky as the Mad Dog expanded into a fireball, ripping the 60-ton omnimech from inside. There was no sign of Maxwell ejecting.

I wondered how many players heard Joey's outburst, or my conversation with Maxwell. Hopefully only these two heard me saying Clan epithet. It was not that I did not want to be known as an ex-Clansman. I was ashamed to be associated with Wolf. I always strived to maintain Clan's qualities, but since I arrived at Solaris I lost them one by one. I drifted farther and farther away from myself, and I did not know why I let it happen.

I refocused on the arena, and there were only 3 mechs left. One was a flaming Champion limping to safety behind some Romanesque arcs, the other one was a one-armed Warhammer circling the arena, trying to get a quick shot at the Champion from long distance. None of them posed real threat, but one sucker punch from the PPC could put me in misery. That said, I went to fight the Warhammer first.

The Warhammer saw me charging it and quickly fired its PPC. I simply bobbed, letting the blue streak flew above my cockpit. Getting in range, I triggered my RAC. I could see pieces of armor flying in every direction as my cannon rounds mutilated the Warhammer from afar. The 70-ton mech staggered in its feet, then made another attempt to singe me, but his marksmanship was far from precise. I stayed away from its secondary weapons and kept showering it with cannon rounds, until its legs bowed and breached. The bulky torso crashed to the ground, and the pilot wisely pulled the ejection lever, seconds before it burst into flames.

Next, the Champion. It had nothing left to use, and it was basically hiding to stay in the game as long as it could. I would leave it alone if I could, but the clock would not stop if there were two mechs left. Unless, of course, we settled for a draw, but I would be a laughingstock if I settled a draw with the half-dead Champion. So I just stood in its path, raising all my guns at it, letting my presence be known. The pilot needed only two seconds to shut down and surrender.

I heard jeers and boo's as I brought my mech to the hangar, and I braced myself for another uproar, just like the lightweight championship. But the spectators were civilized. They stayed on their seats, shouting in frustration as I walked slowly out of the arena. I started to think that perhaps I was a little overreacting. I would stir a turmoil, yes, but I would not be harmed physically.

Man, was I wrong.

As soon as I parked, dozens of cops stormed the hangar and boxed my mech. They would not let the techs come close to my Argus, and let me got out of the cockpit myself. I would think that they were guarding me, but the way they treated the techs made me think the other direction. They came for me. But why? The only sin I committed was killing 'Mad' Maxwell, Silesia's hometown hero. Did the cops go after me because of this fact? If they did, then I was about to witness a different kind of extremity.

And the reality came quicker than I could anticipate. As soon as I touched the ground, the cops cocked their weapons and aimed them at me. "Mister Parker, you are under arrest for obstruction of fair play of Solaris game."