Divine Comedy Quadrillogy:

Ch1 Savage Justice

Ch2 Transition

Ch3 Shattered Reflection

Ch4 Cracked Mirror

Ch2

"Unbelievable!"

The announcer was at it again.

My skin steamed with perspiration. Water sloshed around my legs, dark as pitch. Oily patterns flowed from ruptured guts, lifeblood of corpses. The corpses, inanimate objects of what were once proud warriors, lay mired in various grotesque positions that captured the essence of their agony. Half submerged, half protruding, they lay strewn around the room covered with black water.

I was their king. A king of corpses. In a land where none could rise, a man who stood would rule.

"I've never seen anything like it! Well, there was that time in '67 with Talon and a few times before that, but certainly nothing like it since! For the first time in five years, a mercenary, and a newcomer at that, stands victorious in a Solaris Championship after only one season! Sandman has triumphed where 32 others could not! In the Black Cage Arena, he reigns supreme! This is Dun-"

I switched off the comm. net and started back to the entrance bay.

It was a hard fight. The Dragon was holed in more than one place. Flashing lights blinked incessantly warning of failures. But I was still alive.

I took a breath and closed my eyes as the massive elevator started to lift me out of the cavernous area. The wailing of emergency vehicles as they raced to rescue downed pilots, the grinding of giant gears, and the sizzling pop of cooling metal…they all melted away as I relived the highlights of the battle, replaced by...

…the chattering roar of two massive LB20x autocannons. The cluster rounds, specially designed for pyrotechnics, emitted blazing white phosphorous trails before smashing into the reeling Marauder's side, brutally smashing aside already savaged armor to tear away at internal structure. The shots jarred the Marauder pilot's aim, and two HVPPC bolts stabbed into the water in front of me, flashing tons of liquid into superheated gas in nanoseconds. The steam cloud blocked my view and the Marauder's as well, which suited my purposes just fine. The enemy mech took a hesitant step forward and leveled its intimidating weaponry at the spot where he guessed I would appear. He guessed wrong.

I dove out of the cloud behind him, water splashing each way as I ran. My Dragon's paired Heavy Lasers lit up. The beams cut into the damaged torso like a surgeon's scalpel and the massive Heavy Gauss Rifle mounted above the MAD's head tore loose with a sizable chunk of the torso and splashed down. The rest of the mech followed seconds later, plowing face first underwater.

That would bump my kill count this evening to five. Already an Argus, a Shadowhawk, a Hellspawn, and an Atlas lay burning somewhere within the Black Cage. The Atlas was interesting. Bristling with weapons and armor, it had come bearing down on me just as I was putting the Shadowhawk out of its misery. Unfortunately, the great skull visage of the assault mech, designed to inflict terror upon opponents, was also an extremely tempting target. Most likely, the enemy pilot did not survive.

"The Black Bell tolls and Rodriguez is down! Five kills in less than five minutes! Only 3 left in the arena, but I'm sure everyone is waiting for the showdown between Sandman and Jode. It's gonna be one helluva fight!"

Ah yes, Jode. The Clan warrior was probably the most dangerous opponent on the field. Her skills, coupled with her 80-ton Canis, had granted her quite a winning streak. If she kept to her usual style, her combat style would be to range back and cut loose with her extended range lasers at a safe distance. She would deal with anyone who got closer with her own dual LB20xs. She was massively armored and could deal heavy damage at long range and short range. But not both. If I was going to challenge her, I was going to have to close the distance extremely quickly. Which wasn't really a problem.

Running at 89 kph and only slightly slowed by the indoor sea, it wasn't long before I saw her. She was exchanging fire with a Talos, a nasty assault mech that mounted multiple Rotary autocannons and rockets. The Talos was one of those mechs you had to keep out of line of sight. Its particular weapon configuration had been known to tear a mech apart in seconds alone. In this case though, the Talos was getting the worst of the fight.

Streaking shells burst all over the Canis, but in an unfocused manner, crushing armor plates but doing very little damage in actuality. The Canis fired its jumpjets and soared backwards, and cut loose with a quartet of bright green lasers. I noted the greenish mist that vented from the 'mech. Jode was flushing coolant; she must be close to overheating. The Talos's right arm exploded, and it stumbled back under cover of a metal pillar. Unfortunately, that meant it was now in my firing zone.

Perhaps catching me in the corner of his eye, the Talos turned and fired off a salvo of RACs and rockets, but I had already started dodging. The rockets missed. They never really had a chance when the target was as quick as I was. The RACs though tore into my left arm and torso. I returned fire with the Heavy lasers, but one of the advantages of using RACs was that it tended to shake and disrupt an opponent's aim. The lasers shot to either side of the assault mech, burning white-hot pits into the pillar behind it.

And then the stream of fire stopped. One of the disadvantages of RACs was that continued use often caused them to jam. With the incoming fire stopped, I settled my crosshairs on the stricken 'mech. My own autocannon shots sent explosive shrapnel into the shredded right side of the mech, tearing through giant ribs, cables, heat sinks, gyro, and engine. The Talos toppled over and then exploded with the force of a small nuke, making small tidal waves smash into my legs. I handled them without trouble and went to hunt my last opponent.

I found her waiting for me in an open area, still venting heat, but ready for a fight. I could almost feel her arrogance displayed in her mech's wide stance. She didn't even bother to raise her weapon arms.

There was a flash of static as she activated her comm., no doubt preparing to make some sort of dramatic speech. She had learned well to cater to the audience. Pity that I felt like winning the match rather than posturing. I'll never know what she was about to say.

"You- Freebirth!" I wondered if the curse was directed at me or was just an exclamation of surprise. Probably the latter as I had just broke into a full charge directly at her. Her weapon arms came up but I fired first, hoping to knock off her aim. Autocannon shells detonated on the Canis's upper chest and the lasers stabbed deep into its belly. To my disappointment, she had not fired at all. Instead, the Canis dropped down on one knee to absorb the blow and waited for a full second before letting off the barrage.

I barely had enough time to twist and shield myself with my right arm. The ERLL lasers slashed at my legs, sending molten metal flying in all directions. Autocannon fire ripped into me, shredding my arm to pieces, rupturing my own autocannon. I grit my teeth in pain. I stumbled, but made a little hop to correct my balance. The Canis loomed in front of me, almost ten meters away. Jode tried to jump out of the way, but she was too late.

I buried my shoulder into her gut, a gut wrenching impact that crushed armor, vital components, and compromised structural integrity. The attack hurt. A lot.

But it worked.

The Canis doubled up with the hit and was flung backwards. With jets still activated, she soared until slamming into the arena walls, crushing beams and video equipment. Then she fell again into the water face first from 20 meters up.

She did not rise.

I breathed out.

"Good fight."

I turned to the elderly man walking his way toward me, picking his way through scattered equipment and coolant spills.

"I trust you were entertained," I said as he reached me, looking up as I swung myself off the Dragon's leg, "…Master Wu."

The elderly owner of the Jade Tigers, a Liao affiliated mech stable in Solaris, cackled as I landed on the ground before him. "So formal! I had thought by now you would consider me more than a business partner!"

To this I would give no answer. I didn't know of a polite way to put it.

Master Wu chose to go on as if the silence had not existed. "Come then, it is time to discuss some business matters. Over tea perhaps."

He was already walking away before I could decline. I sighed. Apparently, there was no avoiding it.

Master Kung Wu had done well for himself in his 80 years. The Jade Tigers, numbering 42 pilots and 23 mechs, was not the most successful stable around. Still, they performed above average, filling the old man's coffers. Of course, in the last six months, I too had contributed greatly to his wealth.

Much of Wu's money had been funneled into his residence. An extravagantly lavished manor was designed with strong Chinese themes. Red rosewood carved into panels, chairs, and tables. Black marble floor with subtle patterns in the shape of sinewy dragons. Mind dynasty vases, Jade carvings, and archaic looking paintings. All of which was probably counterfeit, but I couldn't tell the difference. I was comforted by the sense of familiarity.

Almost as much as that infernal music disturbed me.

Somewhere, in the masses of artificial streams and furniture was a music box, playing a wordless mantra of soft music. Its tones were solemn but tinged with only what I could describe as…madness. If such a thing could ever be heard and distinguished.

I wondered, as I sat next to him for tea, how he could possibly stand it. And even like it.

"So, Mr. Xiao…oh yes, no names. My apologies." Master Wu took a sip, sounding remarkably without regret. "You are now the man in the light. Fortune does appear to smile down upon you. Six months and you have become a champion. An undefeated champion, at that. With my support, of course."

I eyed him over my cup but said nothing. I knew what was coming, but to misstep now would be…unfortunate.

"At these times, a man can only be expected to ask himself what the next step will be." The Master leaned forward. "And I think you will agree that your time spent with me has been agreeable. I can make you a very rich man, should you desire."

He was a little impatient today. Perhaps it was because he knew he could not win. He was merely going through the process.

"Master Wu," I began carefully. "I thank you for your patronage, but as I explained to you before, this was a very short contract. I will not renew. It is time for me to move on."

One year ago, I had arrived on his doorstep looking for patronage. I gave a deal he couldn't refuse. I was here merely to fight. I didn't require payment or favors. I came with my own mech and I proved I had the skills required. All I asked in return was that he pay for damages and ammunition. We both got what we wanted.

We both knew he could have resorted to other methods of persuasion. Blackmail. Drug addictions. Even confiscation of assets. But I had no family. No need of drugs. And I was a champion now. I could be extremely damaging to his reputation if he acted against me. So he really had no choice but hope I wanted to stay. Besides, I was a fellow Capellan.

"That is too bad. Too bad indeed." I tensed. Of course, Master Wu could be a lot more foolish than I thought. Wu, however, only appeared slightly amused at my caution. "So, where will you go to seek your hopeless battle? Or will you return to the Compact?"

I had given the matter some thought, so I answered him immediately. "I will join a mercenary company. Specifically, I will search for one that will most likely enter combat with the Clans."

"Ahh yeeesss…fierce and well trained warriors." His wizened brow drew back as he appraised me. "As a matter of fortuity, I do know of a few units who fit your desire. Perhaps I should contact them for you?"

No doubt, Wu was hoping that if I ever changed my mind, there wouldn't be any bad blood between us. Considering I did not intend to go back, I doubted it would happen.

"I would appreciate that, Master Wu." I bowed with hand clasped over fist.

It took less than a week. I was using the lavatories at the Sin Bin. Yes, I know what you're thinking. But I was there strictly on business. I was to meet my possible employer at the strip club at precisely 0500 hours. He never arrived. I had waited there for two hours before deciding he wasn't coming. So instead, I decided I needed to wash my hands. The tables and chairs of the club were uncomfortably sticky. I hadn't really wanted to think about it.

I ran my hands under water and scrubbed them with soap up to my forearms. I really couldn't get over the feeling of being filthy. I scratched until the dragons tattooed on my skin flushed a healthy red.

"So, this is the big bad champion mechwarrior…"

I snapped my head up and looked into the mirror. There, reflected behind me was another man. A man I knew wasn't there before. He was of oriental descent and was dressed, oddly, in white. I could pick out no logos on him, but he was clearly in a uniform of some kind. The dual pistol holsters strapped to his hips left no doubt as to his profession. Mechwarrior.

"May I…help you?" I said, uncertainly. It could be an attack. Some jealous rival who I never bothered to meet maybe.

"Well, it's more of a I-help-you you-help-me kind of thing. Name is Vaz. Johnny Vaz. Though most peeps in the biz call me 'Spork'." He extended a hand.

What? No corny cheese line like 'And the ladies call me, 'Oh God!''?

I cautiously shook his hand and said, "What sort of business are you in?"

"I kill people."

I retracted my hand and shifted to a more defensible stance. "I'm afraid that encompasses a great many professions, sir."

"Ah, then allow me to be more precise." The man hopped up for a seat on the sink behind him. "I am a mercenary. I am the commander of the Blood Mist Legion…and I want you to be in it."

I relaxed a bit. "You are my employer?"

"I'm not the one you were expecting, but I am the one you were waiting for, I can promise that much."

"What are the terms and where are we going?" I asked.

"Well, the terms are 10,000 c-bills per month for 3 months. Any repairs are split 50/50. You get a third of any salvage you bring down. As to the rest…" Spork grinned savagely. "We're going to Minoru to fight Clan Wolf."

Clan Wolf! Reportedly the most dangerous of the Clans, and certainly the most successful, the Wolves had been making periodic raids into the Inner Sphere for the past 3 years. Originally the descendents of the exiled Star League army centuries ago, the Clans had invaded the Inner Sphere in order to restore their idea of order. Genetically engineered freaks bred solely for battle, they had smashed the Free Rasalhague Republic and tore a damned big chunk out of the Lyran Alliance and Draconis Combine. And Clan Wolf was the most cunning, if not most ferocious, of them all. At least, that was what I heard.

"Worthy opponents. I agree to your terms."

Johnny Vaz. Of course that wasn't his real name, but I couldn't have known that at the time.

He was slightly bigger than me, broader in the shoulders and arms, while still maintaining the slenderness generally associated with those of Asian-descent. He was also a whole lot meaner. Talking to him, you'd figure he was a nice enough sort, but in truth he hid quite a mean streak.

He could be quite ruthless both on the battlefield and…well, actually, he was pretty much ruthless and dangerous wherever he was. I wouldn't go so far as to say he was psychopathic or anything, but he did appear to place a much lower value on human life than normally accepted. And let's not even get started on animals.

During my subsequent voyage with him toward the Outer Rim, I found out the origin of his moniker.

I had lots of time by myself, and to tell the truth, I rather preferred it that way. However, at meal-time, this was never an option. If I didn't want to eat ration packs all day, then I would have to join the others for what passed as cooked food for these…people.

I was sitting by myself of course. No one disturbed me anymore, so I could eat in peace and gather intelligence. Another reason I bothered eating with the others was that I could grasp a general idea of what was going on in our Dropship without actually asking anyone.

I used a curious but advantageous part of human nature in this endeavor. As it turns out when you're quiet, seclude yourself, and fail to socialize with others, sooner or later, others stop remembering you're actually there. People will blab about practically anything, even gossip about myself, when they assume I'm not paying attention. Not that this really proved fruitful. Mostly, they only made scandalous remarks and some obscene jokes about each other. To tell the truth, it was usually to the point when I would really rather not listen to them, but old habits are difficult to break. But occasionally there was something of use in their banter, like schedules of maintenance drills, rumors of possible water rationing, and today, some information on our mutual employer.

One of the rookie pilots was asking around about call-signs, possibly so he could figure a good one for himself. He attracted my attention when I heard my own being uttered. Without visibly detracted from my current task of spearing what was hopefully meat, I perked an ear and listened in.

"Well, like I said, most people make up their call-signs because they make sense for them." One of the vets was saying. At the time, I couldn't have been bothered to learn any of their names.

"Well, what about Sandman over there? What, does he sleep all the time?"

"Nah, newbie. There's an older story to that. Apparently, while he was in being interviewed by a bunch of bigwigs back in the arenas, a bunch of his opponents in the arena decided to jump him. Right on Holo Cast! And one of these guys was really a muscle mountain, I tell ya. You know, the kinda of shmucks who bend steel bars with their eyebrows."

"No way, dog! What'd he do?"

"Hell, kid. I dunno what happened, but he knocked every single one of those punks out cold. Like, in a blink of the eye, they were all down. Frickin' amazing."

"What, him? …I think I could take him."

"No, newbie." The other guy almost sounded gentle. "You couldn't."

"So what about Spork? Where'd he get his?" Someone else was asking. "Pretty damned weird if you ask me."

Some laughter. "Oh, yeah, that happened a while ago. You ever hear of Osgil?"

"Is that a place?"

"Yeah, some little hell-hole in the Periphery. We were hunting pirates out there, but then we got jumped while we were still in space. Bastards boarded the Dropship and captured the lot of us. Not Spork though. He was holed up in his cabin, but then made his way to the bridge. And get this: he was only armed with a spork!"

"One of these?"

"Probably. Anyway, he just walked right up to the bridge, and the pirates saw him. Tried to take him alive, but it didn't work out very well. He used it like a knife, coming in close and cut at their faces and throats, like this! …And that!"

"Stop that. And then what happened?"

"Well, after killing everyone on the bridge, he hunted the rest down. It wasn't every interesting after the bridge. But you should have seen it! It's like he buried the spork right in the eye of this one guy!" The vet was saying all this with a bit too much relish.

I put down my spork. I didn't want to eat anyway.

"Wow. Is that really true?"

"No."

I glanced over and saw that Johnny himself had decided to join the conversation.

"What? Which part?"

"Well, I had a fork. And I had five of them." He said with a chuckle.

"What's got you in a good mood, boss?"

Johnny, getting up, spoke to us all. "Pack your stuff. We're making land fall tomorrow. Within the week, I expect to be killing Clanners."

------------------------------------------

Fini part2