The Monster You've Become
by Ulquiorra9000
Chapter 7: When All the Chips Are Down
Steiner Stadium Hangar, Solaris City, Solaris VII
Lyran Commonwealth
April 18th, 3053
"Hey, are you sure you oughta be taking this so lightly, Henry?" Xavier demanded as Henry was still practicing with his yo-yo in the 'Mech hangar. "Don't forget that bet you made with Gutsy in the SNC studio. One million C-Bills!"
Henry barely pulled off trick and yelped in pleasant surprise. "I did it!" he cried. Then he looked up at Xavier while seated in a fold-out chair near his Archer's right foot. "And relax. Gutsy's one mean bastard, but when all the chips are down, that's when I shine."
Xavier looked apprehensive, but he didn't bother arguing. Instead, he said, "Just make Mr. Blackwater proud, Henry. If you pull this off, we can bargain for a pay raise in the Metal Magic stable. Among other concessions."
Henry cracked a grin as he tossed his lucky yo-yo into his open locker. "Hell yeah, my man. My stock is climbing higher and higher, and Gutsy's gonna pay the price for it." He stood up and spread out his arms. "Besides, I gotta avenge Chen for that semi-final match against Gutsy! Man, when that ax came down on Chen's head... I feared the worst."
Xavier snorted. "Chen was gonna survive that, and you know it. He almost avoided the deadly Gutsy Chop. That Capellan has reflexes like I've never seen."
"I know, right? No wonder he's lasted this long." Henry finally tore off his shirt and balled it up in his locker, then fitted on his cooling vest. "Okay, here goes nothing. See you at the party."
Xavier folded his arms. "I presume it falls to me to arrange your victory party tonight?"
"Pretty please?"
"It'll be a night to remember."
Henry broke into a wide smile. "I promise I won't be fashionably late this time." He gave Xavier a friendly salute and climbed the ladder into his waiting Archer's cockpit, humming to himself as he imagined the party in a club's VIP room, then the steamy things Jessica would treat him to later that night in their apartment. And Jessica, Xavier, Kathy, and Chen will surely be avenged in the Mac Storm Charity Tournament!
"And here they are, good people of Solaris! The final contestants of this historic tournament," the announcer's voice said on the general comm as Henry's Archer lumbered into its spot in Steiner Stadium this fine evening. "It's a battle for a good cause, and it's time to see if Gutsy the Black Swordman will bring glory to the White Hawk stable, or if the Metal Magic newcomer will end his crusade once and for all!"
Henry was already getting Metallica's Ride the Lightning album ready, licking his lips as he toyed with his joysticks. Come on, come on... start the match already!
The horn sounded.
"And they're off!" the announcer roared excitedly. "Henry Laxus unleashes a fierce LRM barrage right out of the gate, and Gutsy is scrambling to take cover! Or is he?"
Henry nodded to the beat as the album's first song came on, and he watched with keen interest as his forty LRMs arced through the air and descended on Gutsy's franken-Mech on the colosseum's other side. Henry guessed that Gutsy might have made it to the nearest pillar for cover and take partial damage from the volley, but no. Gutsy juked to the side right there in the open, allowing most of the missiles to hit him anyway. He really was gutsy today!
Either he's showin' off, or trying to bait me to do something, Henry thought. Gutsy was a pain in the ass, but he had good instincts and serious guts, hence the nickname, and Henry knew better than to screw with him too much. Gutsy's Black Knight was thickly armored, especially on the Axman right arm attached to its shoulder, complete with that deadly ax. That was Gutsy's famous "sword," and if Henry wasn't careful...
Gutsy's franken-Mech sprinted across the stadium, and shit, that thing was fast! Henry had heard that Gutsy swapped out the Black Knight chassis' Vlar 300 engine for an XL engine of the same weight, seriously cranking up the 'Mech's top speed for situations just like this. It had to be running at least 86 kph!
Henry backed up a few steps, a nervous smile crossing his face as he settled his crosshairs onto Gutsy's franken-Mech and squeezed his triggers. His Archer's heat gauge was almost at orange, but putting this much pressure on Gutsy was worth it, especially if Gutsy was forced to abort his headlong charge. Surely this crazy bastard wouldn't -
Whoa, for real? Henry stared as Gutsy endured the full barrage of LRMs, still sprinting for Henry like a madman. Just as Gutsy broke free of the smoke cloud, a gun muzzle on his mutant Black Knight's chest flashed with red fire, and large pulse laser bolts cut a deep, smoking line across Henry's left torso armor.
Gotta move! Henry backed up as fast as his Archer could manage, but he was barely buying himself more than a few seconds like this. He would be backed to the wall soon, and with that XL engine under the hood, Gutsy could outrun Henry's Archer any day of the week. Henry watched as his HUD showed the distance between him and Gutsy shrinking rapidly, and his heat gauge was still a bit warm. Well, he did have medium lasers...
Henry was getting his crosshairs ready when Gutsy fired that large pulse laser again, hitting the left torso again and carving away chunks of molten armor plating. If that weren't enough, Gutsy punished Henry with three medium lasers all over his Archer's torso, getting within 170 meters and closing fast. It was now or never!
Henry squeezed his triggers again, and forty more LRMs whooshed out of his twin launchers.
The thick smoke cloud hid what was going on, but Henry got a bad feeling as he heard only a small handful of explosions going off as the remaining missiles raced through empty air, headed for the stadium's other side. What the...? What did that Gutsy bastard do? Henry narrowed his eyes and jogged to the side, hoping to fool his enemy. And sure enough -
Gutsy's franken-Mech burst out of the smoke cloud, leaping right onto the spot Henry had occupied only seconds before. The 'Mech was covered in nasty explosion marks, but despite its ruined armor, the Black Knight was still running, and that Axman arm was poised for the kill.
"Get over here so I can kill you!" Gutsy snarled on the comm. "You can't beat me fighting like that, fucker!"
"Then I'll fight like this!" Henry retorted. He aimed his crosshairs carefully, raised his Archer's arms, and punished Gutsy's 'Mech with four medium laser beams.
Henry winced as his heat gauge spiked deep into the orange zone, and blistering hot air wafted into his cockpit. And it still wasn't enough; Gutsy's Black Knight endured the laser volley with grace and finesse, especially since the machine had no explosive ammo as a liability. Shit, Henry didn't even score a blow on that bulky XL engine? Maybe if he -
"Damn!" Henry hissed as Gutsy's large pulse laser hammered his left torso yet again, and this time, the hungry beams chewed their way through the remaining armor and hit gold. On Henry's HUD, his left LRM 20 launcher went dark as the words "WEAPON OFFLINE" appeared in red over it. He was lucky his ammo wasn't set off, too!
Henry snapped off two more medium laser bolts that slashed into the Black Knight's right torso, but again, no XL engine hit. And this time, Gutsy was in range to assert his dominance. Two more medium lasers scoured Henry's armor, and the Archer stumbled for a precious second.
Then it came: the Gutsy Chop.
Henry didn't have the words for a desperate retort. He merely threw up his Archer's arms to shield his cockpit as Gutsy brought down his Axman's right arm, and the ax sliced right through the Archer's arms. And it didn't stop there. Henry could almost hear the myomers in Gutsy's 'Mech groaning as they pumped out more power, swinging the ax through the air and into Henry's center torso to finish the move.
Henry cried out as the ax's vicious blade grazed his Archer's cockpit, shattering the glass and breaking off a piece of the Archer's head along the way. Practically every alarm installed in the Archer went off as Gutsy's ax carved its way through the rest of the 'Mech's center torso, and Henry felt lightheaded as the broken canopy glass cut him from head to toe. Warm blood pooled on his lap, and he faintly wondered if Jessica was still watching. He didn't want her to see this, and he hardly even heard the "game over" horn as his Archer fell flat on its back like a fallen titan.
*o*o*o*o*
The next day...
"Ugh..."
Henry groggily awoke to the sight of a white ceiling. Was he laying down? Yeah, and he had a blanket, too, and a funny beeping noise was coming from the left.
He looked down and snorted. Hospital room. Figured.
That ax... the match...! Henry's head was aching and fuzzy as he pressed a hand to his forehead, recalling the final match of Mac's charity tournament, right there in Steiner Stadium. Shit! Henry had been like a lamb to the slaughter, letting Gutsy get up close and personal to deliver the final blow... and the bet... what was the wager? Henry tried to recall that moment in the SNC studio -
"NO! NO!" Henry seized his head and roared in agony, and not just from the bandaged wounds covering his body. Nearby, the heart monitor's beeping went wild, and Henry heard the room's door sliding open. He didn't care.
"Mr. Laxus! What's wrong?" a woman's voice cried out.
"The bet... Gutsy... I lost..." Henry bared his clenched teeth as he slowly lowered his hands, vaguely noticing the nurse standing next to him. Henry's hands shook, his head light from the shock and disbelief coursing through him. He was supposed to better than this!
"I SHOULD'VE WON!" Henry roared, sweeping his arm with all his might. The nurse gasped and hopped back just in time as Henry's powerful arm blasted the IV drip's stand halfway across the room. The tube and needle were yanked right out of Henry's arm, and he winced at the sting.
"I should've won..." Henry hung his head, staring at his hands as though expecting them to rot away before his very eyes. "I lost everything... the money..."
"Mr. Laxus, please, get ahold of yourself," the nurse urged him, slowly approaching with her hands held palms out. "Your injuries aren't life-threatening, but you need to take it easy. You're in the International Zone general hospital. The Steiner Stadium staff brought you here as soon as they could."
Henry was still panting with rage and horror, but he forced himself to relax and let the nurse get closer. This shit wasn't her fault.
"There, that's better," the nurse said gently, setting up the IV stand and re-inserting the needle into Henry's arm. "You shouldn't need more than a week to recover, especially with your stable owner covering your expenses. Mr. Blackwater is so generous, to pay for advanced medical care on your behalf. You should make a full recovery, scar-free." She made a timid smile.
Henry sighed and did his best to return the smile. "I owe him a thank-you card. Got any down in the lobby?"
The nurse managed a chuckle. "Yes. But for now, please relax. Your friends can see you starting tomorrow, all right? We can contact them for you."
Henry lay his head back on the pillow. "Yeah. Sure. I need some friendly faces around here."
"I'll be around if you need me." The nurse turned and exited the room, leaving behind one miserable MechWarrior.
I don't even have a million C-Bills! Henry clapped his hands over his face. I should've won that fucking match! Maybe Gutsy should've made good on his promise to kill me so I wouldn't be humiliated like this!
Henry knew what was next, and even Jessica and Xavier would urge him to reconsider. He'd have to get that money somehow... working as an enforcer for any gang lookin' for muscle, smuggle some goods, hit up some underworld lenders for quick cash up front, visit the luckiest blackjack tables, whatever. Maybe even fix an arena match or two. Henry wasn't like that motherfucker Donovan Storm, fixin' matches to make himself look good. Henry has legit reasons to stoop to that level.
Next time we fight, Gutsy's fuckin' dead!
*o*o*o*o*
Storm Family Palace, Solaris City, Solaris VII
Lyran Commonwealth
April 21st, 3053
Mac already knew what he was looking at, but he refused to accept it as reality. There had to be one number, just one, that was wrong. But his new accounting staff made sure that everything was accurate and even printed on expensive paper with good ink.
"No..." Mac threw the papers down on his father's... no, his desk in the mansion's main office, glaring daggers at the mess before him. The Donovan and Eva Storm Charity Drive was barely sputtering along, and the numbers showed that the whole operation was going nowhere fast. Not even the charity tournament had done much to shake loose some spare change for the cause.
And the media cycle wasn't much better, either. Over and over, Mac had spoken to the press and made his case, ever since that charity ball back in March, and Mac got more snide remarks and cynical doubts than he did support. Nearly everyone seemed to be saying the same thing: that he was a naive little boy trying to sweet-talk sharks into letting the poor fish live. Well, sharks do one thing: hunt and kill. Ain't no talking them out of it.
Mac needed a change of scenery, or maybe a pain reliever. He held his aching, sleep-deprived head and ambled to the nearest bathroom, hearing the chatter and laughter of his friends and friends of friends throughout the mansion. Mac had invited every member of the Mac's Hooligans gang here for a giant sleepover, more or less, and give the poor kids a glimpse of the rich life. Many of them had never seen an oil painting or a silver lunch trolley before, or even a complete meal.
"Shit..." Mac flicked on the bathroom's light, swung open the medicine cabinet, unscrewed the cap to some over-the-counter pills, and swallowed one with a small cup of water. He glared at his haggard reflection, running his hands through his messy, dyed-blond hair.
Ok, he was seriously done with this blond phase. He'd dyed his hair to annoy his parents and spite them just a little bit, and it had felt good at the time. Now it felt fucking stupid and dishonest. Who was Mac to hide who and what he truly was? No one in his family was even blond! Too many people lied here on Solaris VII. In fact -
Mac gasped in shock when he saw his father in the mirror, standing in the bathroom doorway, arms folded with a smug look on his face.
"F-Father...!" Mac whirled around, his heart racing, his skin crawling. The doorway was empty.
You've gotta be kidding me... Mac wiped his sweaty brow with a trembling hand. He had enough problems without ghosts piling on top! Donovan was dead and buried, right alongside his foul wife. They were gone.
"I really need a break..." Mac shuffled out of the bathroom and headed back to the office to tidy up those papers when he heard a woman's voice go "hmph," in a haughty sort of way.
Mac felt a chill of terror go down his spine as he whirled around a second time, only to see an empty hallway. That had been his mother's voice, a typical sound of disapproval she liked to make.
Were they mocking him? They were fucking mocking him, the bastards! Donovan and Eva were dead, but still they lingered, shaking their heads at their ambitious son's reckless and naive projects! When would Mac acknowledge his true colors when all the chips were down, and become a panther in the jungle of Solaris City? Who needs starry-eyed charity drives when there's protection money to make and drugs to smuggle and all that shit?
No. I can't let them win. I can't let their legacy win! Mac kept his fists clenched as he stormed into his office, half-considering summoning Lieutenant Greg Jashta to watch over him. Why? To exorcise Donovan's and Eva's ghosts? Get real. Mac just needed a good night's sleep -
"Mac? What's this?"
Little Zanna, the youngest member of Mac's Hooligans at just eight years old, wandered into the office while carrying a fancy liquor decanter. It was half-full of Don's favorite brand of whiskey.
"Whoa, be careful with that." Mac hurried over and gently took the decanter out of Zanna's hands. He gave her a tired grin as he held the decanter to eye level. "This is called a decanter, a fancy kind of cup that rich grown-ups use to pour drinks. But if you drop it, it breaks!"
"That's a funny cup," Zanna commented. "Why do grown-ups have so many things like this, Mac? Your house is weird."
Mac chuckled. "Rich people like my parents buy weird things just because they can, Zanna. It makes them feel good about themselves."
"But I don't want a fancy dee-cant-err cup," Zanna said, wrinkling her nose. "It's heavy." She yawned.
Mac set aside the decanter and patted Zanna's head. Poor girl; her father had died of a heroin overdose last year, and her mother tried to drink her grief away. The booze money happened to come out of the grocery bill, meaning Zanna only got her meals when Mac secured them for her. Stories like Zanna's were being told all over Solaris City, and Mac couldn't give them all a good ending.
"Hey, there you are." Melody, one of the oldest members of Mac's Hooligans, stepped into the office and took Zanna's hand. She met Mac's eyes. "It's getting late, Mac. The younger Hooligans are getting tired. Could we set ourselves up in the guest bedrooms? There's a lot..."
Mac nodded. "Give 'em anything they need. And feel free to ask the security guards and butlers for anything you guys need."
"Did you hear that, Zanna?" Melody told her young friend sweetly. "You'll get a bedroom fit for a princess tonight! Comfy blankets, fluffy pillows, a working heater, and your own dresser and mirror! Can you believe it?"
Zanna yawned again and left the room with Melody after thanking Mac for the premium hospitality. Mac could still hear his other friends, like Antoine, Sem, and Brian, goofing off in the main lobby while playing some "cops and robbers" variant. Mac had enough real cops and robbers to think about.
Okay, that's enough. Bedtime for me, too, Mac thought. He decided to tidy up his desk tomorrow morning, after he gave everyone a deluxe breakfast and treated them to the mansion's private movie theater. There wasn't enough time for everything Mac needed to do... but he could spare one night for the friends who meant everything to him, at least.
END OF PART I