DC Heroes: MechWarrior I
By: Christopher W. Blaine
e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com
DISCLAIMER: All characters and situations contained in this story are ©2002 by either DC Comics Inc. or WhizKids and are used without permission for fan-related entertainment purposes only. No profit is made from this story. This original story is ©2002 by Christopher W. Blaine and may not be reproduced either in part or as a whole without the express permission of the author.
Chapter 3 Justice City New GothamGotham Commonwealth
December 27, 3030Bruce looked around at the office assigned to Lieutenant James Gordon, Special Agent of Oracle, trying to see if he could figure out the man from the way he worked. The cigarette butts stubbed out in the multiple ashtrays and dropped into old cups of coffee told him the man was under a lot of pressure. He was lucky he was still relatively young, Bruce thought.
There were pictures on the wall and on the desk. A modest woman whom he assumed to be the wife sat with Jim and a red-haired girl of about Dick's age. A family man who wasn't afraid to show it, which meant he understood family bonds. That was good because Bruce needed someone outside the royal court to talk to.
There was a bottle of real Terran whiskey, Jack Daniels brand, on a bookshelf. There were real books here, not the digital copies that GreenStar kept a monopoly on. The religious order had control of virtually every form of information in the Inner Sphere, except for printed material. The Followers of Scott considered books to be nontech, or those things that were so mundane that they should be allowed to disappear into the mists of history.
Bruce picked up the bottle and uncapped it, sniffing the whiskey. It smelled good. "Would you like some, Prince Bruce?" Jim asked as he stepped into the office and closed the door.
"You don't mind?" Bruce asked handing the bottle over.
Jim went behind his desk and opened a drawer, he pulled out a pistol, an old-style one and laid it on the desk. Two glasses followed. "Oracle receives a shipment every year from Terra, a gift from GreenStar."
"More like a bribe I would think," Bruce said as he accepted his drink. The whiskey burned but tasted like the nectar of the gods.
Jim shrugged. "I don't ask. I like getting free whiskey." He capped the bottle and put it along with the pistol away. "Now, what can I do for you?"
Bruce looked back up at the books while he answered, memorizing the titles as he spoke. It was an old mind exercise he had taught himself to improve his powers of observation. "I'd like to talk about the lack of information regarding my parent's death."
Jim scratched his head and sat down in his chair. "Oracle assigned the best investigators it had to the case a decade ago. The truth is that we don't believe it will ever be solved and that is unfortunate."
"Unfortunate for who?" Bruce asked.
"Well, besides the obvious, it hurts Oracle. Whoever planned this was an intelligence genius and they had help from, we believe, rogue agents from RING." RING was the secret operations section of GreenStar. "It's no secret that Thomas was not favored by the Primus, especially after he refused to allow Corps troops to man the HPG stations." In 3015, GreenStar had begun manning Hyper Pulse Generator facilities with their own forces in response to a veiled threat made by Coordinator Katar Hol of the Thanagarian Combine. Arm twisting had gotten all of the other House Lords to agree, but Thomas had refused.
It had been the catalyst to a chain reaction that caused the other Lords to change their minds. Even today, GreenStar had hopes of putting regiments of the Green Lantern Corps on every planet. Thomas's refusal to give in to GreenStar's demands had made him some very powerful enemies. Bruce, however, had a hard time believing it. "Primus Ganthet is a hard ass, but I can't see him doing something like that. He's raised the rates of transmissions, GreenStar made a ton of G-Bills over the whole thing."
Jim fished a cigarette out of a pack and lit up. "Like I said, rogue agents, which means we weren't on our toes. We were so busy looking for Thanagarian agents that we had blinders on."
"Nothing that can be proven, though, right?"
Jim nodded. "Believe me, nothing would make Oracle happier than busting a RING agent involved in the murder of the Archon." He took a sip of his whiskey and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "As for the lack of information, on that note, my prince, I have to agree with you. Just between you and me, I think that is what will lead us to the killer and the people who hired them."
Bruce moved over to a seat, removed a magazine on local sports fishing, and sat down. He leaned forward, holding his drink between his knees. "The initials my father called out…'MM'."
"It was checked out for every mercenary group and nothing panned out, so we figured that it was nothing. We even ran a check on all of the other House units and came up empty. Who else uses 'mechs? Pirates?" Jim shook his head and finished his drink.
"How about gaming stables?"
Jim slowly looked at the young prince, wanting at once to give him a hug for his simple brilliance and at the same time wanting to take the gun out and shoot him so the secret wouldn't get out. It was so obvious it had been missed. Or maybe intentionally overlooked? It was possible, Jim thought; the Archon-General already had him rooting out corruption in the organization. "You mean like on Solaris VII?"
Bruce nodded. "I went to the royal library and accessed the gaming stables database. A group called Moxon's Mayhem was and still is an active participant in the games." The games were a throwback to the times of the Roman Empire. BattleMechs would battle each other for the enjoyment of the crowds. It was a place no sane MechWarrior ventured to.
Jim shook his head slowly. "The name doesn't ring a bell."
"Moxon was in hock up until shortly after my father and mother's deaths. Since then, he hasn't had a cash flow problem," Bruce said as he sat the glass on the desk. "He also had a Bane in his stable up until a year before the murder."
"Doesn't mean anything and it doesn't help. All of the House Lords signed the Agreement of Self-Rule for Solaris VII a hundred years ago to keep the games as fair as possible." Jim sat up and dropped his ashes into a coffee cup. "He could have sold that 'mech for the money."
Bruce disagreed. "The pilot of that 'mech fought like a gladiator. He was right in my father's face. He did an Alpha Strike against my mother and shut his 'mech down. Only guys in the games do things like that because they don't expect an attack from an air wing."
Jim considered the logic for a moment. He wished he had at least become familiar with a BattleMech when he was given the opportunity in the Oracle Training Academy. He had elected for Small Arms Proficiency Level 3. He didn't understand BattleMech fighting and he had his doubts about a cadet in his first year. "Even if what you say is true, supposing that rogue RING agents were able to somehow smuggle in an assault 'mech and a pilot, how do we prove it? We don't have MechWarriors on the Oracle payroll to send to the games as undercover agents."
"What about regular troops?" Bruce asked, knowing the answer already.
"Can't; the Agreement specifically states that military units may not touchdown on the planet for any reason."
"So, I guess you need someone with a 'mech and no official military ties that is privy to top secret information," Bruce said.
Jim smiled. "I suppose you want me to be executed…slowly."
"Nobody would have to know…"
"I suppose you want me to be executed…slowly," was the response.
"It's my only chance!" Bruce pleaded.
"What kind of servant to the throne would I be of I willingly put the heir in immediate danger. Have you had any children I don't know about? Have you thought of that, my prince? The Steiners are chomping at the bit to take control of the Commonwealth! Lord only knows what they'll do with a little power." Jim stood up and tapped his desk. "The Archon-General is absolutely correct; your duty is to the people of the Gotham Commonwealth."
Bruce swallowed hard. "For the past ten years, everyone has told me what I have to do for the Gotham people, and I have to ask is weren't my parents citizens as well? How can I go through life not knowing?"
Jim wished he were somewhere else. He reached out and grabbed the picture of his wife and the red-haired girl. "My brother was killed in an accident two years ago and now I'm raising his daughter as my own. I'll never know what demons drove my brother to drink to the point that he was willing to sacrifice not just his life, but that of his wife as well. His daughter has to live with it as well. We all carry pain."
"No, some of us simply accept it," Bruce replied, standing up. His blue eyes seemed to radiate cold and Jim had to suppress a shiver. There was a volcano of anger under the surface here. "And some of us don't."
Jim nodded and inhaled deeply. "Archon-Prince Bruce Wayne, as an officer of Oracle having sworn an oath of allegiance to the throne of the Gotham Commonwealth, I must inform you that I must report this to my superiors." Jim suddenly felt a great weight on his shoulders. "Please don't make me do this."
"You won't do anything, I can tell." Bruce turned around and left the office, leaving Jim alone to ponder his thoughts. He was caught between two rocks, desperately wanting a hard place to cling to.
"Damn him," Jim said. He liked the Archon-Prince, but he couldn't stand by and let him do something foolish. He reached over to a drawer and pulled out a file. In it were several pictures of Bruce with Selina Kyle, the new MechWarrior assigned to the 1st Gotham Guards Command Lance, from General Pennyworth's Christmas party. If he couldn't talk to the headstrong royal, maybe she could.
Lieutenant Selina Kyle stopped at the hanger bay doors, peering deep inside the cavern of brick and steel, watching the skeleton crew of technicians and guards mill around the BattleMechs of the 1st Gotham Guards. Her own machine, a 65-ton Catapult was being hosed down after a day of running through ice, snow and mud.
In the farthest corner, in the slot reserved especially for the Archon's 'mech, stood the red and gold Firestorm of the Archon-Prince. She wouldn't be here if it wasn't for the fact that she was interested in the prince. He was clumsy in a boyish and annoying way, an aristocrat in his attitude, but he also had a big heart. She had seen the way he been with Dick Grayson, proof that one day Bruce Wayne would be a hell of a father. It didn't hurt matters that he was pretty damn cute as well.
She started walking, stepping through the temperature boundary from the cold outside to the relative warmth of the inside. She noted that Beta Lance of the 1st Regiment was out on patrol. Even though they were on the safest world in the Commonwealth, the murder of Archon Thomas Wayne had drastically changed the security measures taken even during the holidays. Never again, that was the motto of the 1st Gotham Guards.
She unzipped the front of her coveralls, not needing he extra warmth and started to roll up her sleeves. She had only been posted with the command lance for two weeks now, but the hanger bay was familiar territory. She had spent many hours in here working on her own 'mech, developing her skills as an amateur technician. She was of the mind that you could only rely on herself. After all, that was the story of her life.
Born into a family that had lost its wealth during the Second Succession War, Selina seemed to have been destined for a life of misery. Abused by her father who had unnatural cravings for his daughter, she had run away from home several times until the local security forces had placed her in foster care with a former member of the Gotham infantry.
A hard man to please, he nevertheless showed her the love she so desperately craved and motivated her to succeed. She had even taken his last name as soon as she turned 18, forever dropping her dark past and only concentrating on the future. It had been a tough future, though, as she was never the most academic of people and she struggled her first three years in the academy. That had changed, however, when her foster father had died.
The only thing the man had ever asked of her was to be happy and to do whatever it took to be that way. She wanted to be a MechWarrior, to bring honor to the Kyle name and so she hit the books and the training field and discovered something magical: she enjoyed learning. When she simply allowed herself to have fun, her brain began to absorb information at a rapid pace. She excelled her last year, coming through with such a remarkable improvement that the academy's commanding officer had personally recommended her for the empty slot on the command lance.
Bruce Wayne, however, would have it easy, she thought as she sidestepped a puddle of coolant that had collected on the floor. He had his name to carry him through and his birthright to make any bad mark go away. He didn't seem like the type to do that, but one never knew. It occurred to her that maybe he didn't even know. How many poor grades were changed to good ones simply because he was the Archon-Prince? As clumsy as he appeared to be, she couldn't imagine him being a very good 'mech pilot.
As she approached, she saw that he had his back turned to her and he was doing something odd. Small parts were being tossed in the air, five she counted. He was juggling! She wondered if the accidents he performed for her had been nothing more than an act so she would think he was a fop, a simpleton. That made no sense.
She coughed and he lost his concentration. He was a jumpy sort of guy, but seeing your parents killed in front of you might do that she thought. He turned, red from embarrassment and she considered asking him if that was his natural shade. "May I have a moment of the prince's time?" she asked.
He nodded and stooped down to pick up the components. She recognized them as having come from the IFF transponder. Without those, his 'mech would not show up as a friendly in a battle. "I was just cleaning some parts."
"I see that," she said, noting his eyes were going to her chest. She crossed her arms over her exposed flesh. "I just wanted to make sure you were feeling okay."
Bruce frowned. "I'm sure you were; Gordon sent you, didn't he?"
"He was concerned, but so was I. Eventually, you and I will be lancemates…"
"You said that before," Bruce replied as he moved over to the open access panel on his 'mech's leg. "Hand me a wrench please."
"What size?" she asked. He told her and she got the correct one out of the small tool kit. She handed it to him, trying to see what he was working on. "I'm pretty handy around a 'mech."
"I'm sure you are, Lieutenant, but I'm fine."
She nodded and stepped back. He continued to work in the access panel until he realized she was not going to leave. Sighing, he stepped away from the machine and turned to face her. "Is there something you want?"
"How about we bury the hatchet and start over? It seems to me that you and I are going to end up spending a lot of time together in the future," she said, extending her hand.
"Maybe, maybe not…postings to the command lance are at the discretion of the Archon, not Military Command." It was her turn to turn red as she had no idea of how to respond. He laughed, glad to have finally gotten the best of her. "I was just kidding."
She got the joke and smiled. His heart began to beat a little faster. "When do you go back?"
He shrugged. "Next week I suppose."
"You suppose? Do you have any other plans?"
He shook his head. "Like the Archon-Prince of the Gotham Commonwealth wouldn't be recognized on Solaris VII. Give me a break; I thought it through."
She breathed out, relieved. "I'm glad to hear that, otherwise I'd have to beat you up."
He nodded and put the wrench away. "That would be something, Lieutenant."
"Are you hungry? We could get some chow, my treat," she said.
He almost laughed, wanting to remind her that officially, he couldn't eat at the facilities on the base since he actually wasn't in the military. She was trying hard to make friends and he figured he had everything to gain by going along. "How about I take you out some place nice?'
She suddenly looked embarrassed. "I don't know…"
He realized his faux pas. This was not some courtier; this was a brand spanking-new military officer who probably owned fifty uniforms and one pair of civilian clothes. "I was thinking I could take you to the palace and warm up some leftovers. It would give you a chance to throw a drink on me without having to explain it to everyone."
She laughed. "I would be honored, my prince."
"I'd prefer it if you would call me Bruce," he said as he crooked his arm.
She accepted it and they started to walk away from the 'mech. She did not notice the technician that had been hiding in the shadows that scurried out to pick up the pieces of the IFF transponder.
"You aren't a bad cook, Bruce," Selina said as she slowly chewed on the overheated fowl. "You'll make a good housewife one day."
"It is nice to have dreams," he replied, gazing deeply into her eyes as he tried desperately to swallow the dry meat. His face betrayed nothing; if she was enjoying the food than he would enjoy the food.
They sat alone in the cavernous kitchen of the royal palace; the kitchen staff shooed out by Bruce after he was told where to find the leftovers from the Christmas feast. He had tried to impress Selina, though he didn't know why. She was older than him, already had a commission and probably had a boyfriend somewhere. Most likely one of his instructors the way his luck was running.
He checked his watch. "Late for a date?" she asked, taking an extra long drink of wine.
"No…no…its just getting close to my bedtime," he remarked with humor.
"That is the absolute worst pickup line I have ever heard," she said. When she saw that red glow start to overtake his handsome features, she realized that he hadn't even been thinking of sex. Apparently she was though and she started to blush. "I'm sorry…"
He reached over and put his hand on hers. It wasn't a suggestive move, but more of a comforting one. "I would be a liar if I did not say I found you attractive, but I'm…I'm…"
"Engaged? Gay?"
He laughed at her joke. "No, I am a prince and…"
She pulled her hand away. "And it wouldn't be proper for a prince to be seen with the common MechWarrior whore. I understand all right, Mr. High-and-Mighty!" Her face became filled with hurt and rage and Bruce backed his chair up holding his hands up.
"Damn do you have a temper! Are you sure your name isn't Steiner?" He shook his head. "I was going to say that so long as I'm a cadet and you are an officer, not only will it look bad on you, but because of my station any promotion you get in the future is going to look like you slept your way into it."
Selina was speechless. She could not conceive of an apology that would even begin to repair the damage her outburst had caused. She had given off all of the signs and he was resisting because he was worried about how people would look at her.
She wanted to hug him, but remained motionless. He continued to speak however, his voice carrying the authority of someone born to rule. "I am very attracted to you, Selina, but for now, you and I can only remain friends. This is also to protect me because I don't want to fall in love with you and have you break my heart when you have to choose me over your career."
"You want to be friends?" she asked slowly.
"For now. Unlike most men, the idea of hopping into bed with someone I barely know, regardless of how beautiful she is, is something I abhor. I'm not perfect, but I would like to believe that I'm not some dog who has to chase after every female he passes. I intend to rule on example, not decree, just as my father did." He stood up and reached out a hand for her. She took it, thoroughly amazed at the transformation in him. When a conflict arose, he became something different. He became sure of himself, almost regal and it was damn attractive too she thought.
"I have too many things to do right now, but I did want you to know how I felt about you. I think we could be great friends," he said as he led her out of the kitchen.
"I think so, too, and maybe in time something more," she replied.
"When I'm a little older?"
"Yes, Bruce, when you're a little older."