CHAPTER 17

ALL I ASK OF YOU

Review Corner

The Colonel: No, of course not. I'm not that 'angry' anymore.

Solaris City, Solaris VII,
Freedom Theater, Lyran Alliance,
February 27, 3065

Trystan remembered everything the last time he was at Solaris port, getting ready to depart to FedCom Civil War hotbed under the tutelage of Major Chip Taylor. It was raining, as if Mother Solaris was mourning the death of his mother. His sister, catatonic, shocked by the sudden loss of her mother. He would do everything to purge the sting in his heart, but a Solaris cop just had to inform him that his mother was murdered. Chip was unsympathetic, leading him to believe that he was responsible for the murder. Two years went as if just a day.

"The pain in eyes betrays purpose upon hands," Saskia noticed the anguish in Trystan's face. "Why tread foot on provision for misery and grief?"

"We are here solely for business," Trystan drew a heavy breath. "Unfortunately, this is also the place I last saw my mother alive. She was murdered here."

"An unfortunate loss," Saskia empathically wrapped her arms around his shoulder. "Perhaps the absence of sight would set troubling heart to ease."

"No, no, I'm fine," Trystan forced an awkward smile. "We've come this far. We will get what we come here for, then go straight to Chara III."

"Do we have time for the games?" Valen came out of the dropship and savored the landscape of Solaris City. "I've been dreaming to visit the gladiator-fest one day, and here I am, at the heart of Solaris games!"

"I was here once, when the O'Bannon Sisters dominated the Grand Championship," Dee Dee tuned in. "Girl power! What fun time that was!"

"So you know how to bet and play?"

"Bet? Hell no! I was here to watch, not to lose my hard-earned money on gambling!"

"Oh, come on, it's not Battlemech Science for crying out loud!" Lei Fong joined in and snatched a booklet of Solaris game schedules. "If you love your money too much, you bet on the top performers of the games. Here, Srin Odessa, rank 2 overall, 1/4 odds. For every 100 c-bills you bet on her, you'll get 125 c-bills back to the point of certainty. But what's the fun in that? She's not gonna make you rich overnight. The up-and-coming mechjocks are the ones who make you rich overnight." He flipped the booklet almost to the end. "Kyle Garret, 160 Davion Guards, and Parker, a shadowy figure from the depth of Solaris slums. Kyle Garret is 15/2 odds, while Parker is 8/1. You put 100 c-bills on these guys, you'll get 900 c-bills in return!"

"If they win," Dee Dee scoffed.

"If they win, and the chance is small. But that's why it's called 'Risk'. El Riesgo Siempre Vive, Luck Favors The Bold. So what you need to do is spread your money between big names like Srin Odessa, Nako Toyuma, or Fen Chen, and aspiring prospects like Kyle Garret or Parker. You can't lose that way!"

"I don't know you gamble," Trystan shot an incredulous smile at the tech.

"Yeah? I didn't know you were not the leader of a mercenary unit that your grandfather built until you told me that you didn't even have a place in the unit anymore!"

"Let us see memory of ill intent faded in flows of money," Saskia quickly rescued the defenseless Trystan from Lei Fong's bullying. "Ponder on the coming matches and see purse inflated."

"Don't defend him; he gave you ill intents as much as he gave me!" Lei Fong hissed.

"Yet they have been stricken from thought," Saskia braved Lei Fong's firestorm. "A thing of past, best forgotten. Mind is fixed in the coming days, and the impending offense of them."

Lei Fong looked into Saskia's eyes, wondering if she was joking. But his stare crashed into a wall of determination. "Suit yourself. I'm going to Boreal Reach." He threw a quick look at Trystan before leaving.

"I'm coming with you," Dee Dee said.

"Me too!" Valen added as he joined Lei Fong and Dee Dee.

"Thank you," Trystan took a deep breath. "I am in no condition to argue with Lei Fong."

"He yet clings to grudge for past transgression," Saskia let out a soft mirth.

"No, he doesn't. I guarantee you, he is not an unforgiving man," Trystan replied. "He's just… sarcastic. Mean spirited. Jerk. But otherwise, a good guy."

"If you say so," Saskia shrugged. She turned to Osiris, who stood a few steps away from them. The horror of him torturing her to the brink of her insanity still lingered in her mind. But in a way she hadn't fully understood, Osiris was part of the team now, bound by nothing but honor. "And you?" she said, trying to let go of their harrowing past. "Does wealth fail to give purpose to hands?"

"I am not wagering on stravag games!" Osiris hissed spitefully.

"Me neither," Trystan added. "I would not put my money on uncertain future."

"Then set attention towards the matter at hand," Saskia snorted. "The man you pursue."

"Ah, yes. Ronan. Last time he was a mechjock in small arenas, or 'blood pit' as locals call them. We should be able to find him on the game schedule." He grabbed a booklet, then turned to Osiris. "Come, you can meet the newest member of our team first hand."

Osiris puffed with disdain, but in the end he followed Trystan's lead.

The three of them hoped on a bus to one of the blood pits at the outskirt of Solaris City. The size of the city overwhelmed Saskia. She grew up in the suburb of New Helic City, one of the largest cities at Planet Zi. But she had never seen a crowd like Solaris City, where thousands and thousands of people cramped up in front of giant monitors, watching battlemechs in an orgy of destruction, practically at every corner, as if there was no other life outside battlemech fights in the arenas.

"People and games," she mused. "Would that scavengers to carcasses, set to purpose by the smell of death. Is it all these people care for? Who stands and who falls in the arenas?"

"For Solaris citizens and fans, yes, pretty much," Trystan nodded. "Everything is about the games."

"Freebirth scums!" Osiris wheezed hoarsely. "Barbarians like you tainted the battlefields with greed!"

"Barbarians?" Saskia was taken aback by the comment.

"The Clans have different perspective about battles than us, Spheroids," Trystan explained, amused by Saskia's reaction. "They think battles are sacraments. They don't like mixing business with pleasure. Don't mind him. He's just expressing his standpoint the only way he knows… insults."

Saskia shot bile at Osiris, which gladly reciprocated. Truthfully she had not gotten a grip about the Clans and how things were different from normal humans, a.k.a. Spheroids. Clansmen were genetically enhanced, and they boasted their superiority based on that, but from her observation, Osiris was not that much different from the rest. He was as strong and as vulnerable as everybody. The only thing different was his arrogance. Osiris exuded conceit, and it was clear he looked down on everybody, even Trystan.

At one point the bus stopped to take more passengers. A group of passengers boarded, anchored by a blonde woman wearing a dark shade and large bust. Trystan tensed up, and when Saskia thought the young man was drawn to the woman's racks, he stood from his chair and called the woman by name, "Sergeant Lantham?"

The woman turned toward him, taking off her shade to reveal a pair of hazel eyes. She cocked her brows, digging hard into the back of her mind to figure out where she met Trystan, but in the end she gave up. "I'm sorry, have we met?" she said awkwardly.

"Trystan Vandenberg, Blazing Aces. We came to Ingress 3 years ago."

Her eyes widened for a few seconds, then her face turned completely red as everything returned to her mind like an avalanche. She tried to maintain her professional stature, but failed miserably, haunted by the shame she tried to forget. "Mr. Vandenberg, it is nice to meet you again," she stammered. She tried to avoid eye contact with Saskia, but when she realized Saskia was not the woman she thought, she looked at her from head to toe.

"That is not my sister," Trystan rapped derogatively. "That is Saskia, my traveling companion."

"Oh," the woman smiled nervously. "So… well, this is unexpected. I hope you enjoy the games."

"No, I'm here for business," Trystan replied.

"I hope it goes well. I left the military 2 years ago. So I am not Lieutenant Lantham anymore. Just call me Vicky. So, what business are you pursuing at Solaris? Did you leave the Blazing Aces to become a mechjock?"

"Revenge," Trystan replied shortly. "I'm recruiting mechwarriors to kill Linc."

Vicky's face turned white, in contrast with the beet-red blush she sported 5 minutes ago. She took several deep breaths to compose herself. "What did he do to deserve such fate?"

"Murdering my mother."

"That's… unfortunate," Vicky sighed. "He was… I didn't see it in him when I uh…"

"When he cheated on my sister with you," Trystan said calmly, but every word was laden with hatred.

"I did not know he was with your sister," Vicky hissed. "What we did was just physical. A thing to relieve ourselves from the burden of war. He was out of my life as soon as the Blazing Aces lifted off Ingress, and I'm sure I was out of his long before that. Maybe your sister did the same thing, so you need to take it easy."

"I can't take it easy if it hurt my sister."

"So kill him, I don't care," Vicky scoffed. "I am leading a good career now. I'm escorting the cousin of Duke Blake Small. He is a big fan of Nako Toyuma, an ace mechwarrior from Draconis Combine." She regained her composure after a while. "We are going to the Stone Mountain in Ishiyama. Nako Toyuma will play tonight."

"There are but two paths for career advancement," Saskia suddenly spoke. "Strong able hands, or wiggling tongue in proper asshole."

Saskia didn't exactly single out Vicky's career, but Vicky was greatly offended by Saskia's lighthearted remark. Her face turned red again, not by shame like 5 minutes ago, but by uncontrollable rage. "Who do you think you are? You think you're a saint? Throwing the first stone? Get out of the bus so I can beat up your fat ass to pulp! You don't know who you're talking to, bitch!"

"I thought you said you were done with violence?" Trystan tried to defuse the situation.

"I am still Lieutenant Victoria 'AlleyCat' Lantham, the best pilot in the Duchy of Small!"

"Then perhaps I should recruit you," Trystan drew a card and wrote down the location of the dropship. "We're leaving in 2 days. If you think of returning to the business…"

"Drop dead, asshole!" Vicky turned around without even looking at Trystan card.

"What is going on here?" a few men broke off from the group and came to assist Vicky.

"Just a conversation," Trystan maintained a calm, stern stature. "And an invitation to a career that's more befitting her credentials."

"She already has a career," one of the guys slung his arm around Vicky's shoulder. "She is my personal assistant, pilot, driver, and consort. Her place is by my side. So you can take your invitation somewhere else." The man pulled Vicky and ushered her to regroup with the rest of the group. "Good day, people. I hope we never meet again."

Trystan turned to Saskia with quizzical stare. "What the hell did you just do?"

Saskia shrugged nonchalantly. "I admit I reacted poorly upon confession."

"Confession of what? Of sleeping with my sister's boyfriend?"

"A terrible deed, to rob your sister of fidelity. Yet her manner shines absent remorse. I merely introduced pain to ignorant mind."

Trystan burst into laughter. "You're defending my sister already?"

"There is no deeper solace for a woman than in the bosom of her girlfriend. It would come as great comfort."

Trystan chuckled for a long time, then wrapped his arm around Saskia's shoulder. "My sister would love you."

The bus stopped in front of a bunker-like building, and Trystan led the fellowship to get off. They sneaked past the crowd that congregated in front of 3 big monitors, showing a battlemech match taking place inside the bunker. Muffled sound of cannons and explosions echoed from the building, interwoven with rallying shouts from the spectators.

"We need to get to the hangar," Trystan yelled, half screaming.

Osiris took charge and parted the sea of spectators to make way for Trystan and Saskia. They endured elbows and shoves and deafening screams in their ears, until they completely went through the crowd. There were so many people scrambling the building from every direction that the security guards didn't notice them sneaking to the hangar.

Coming closer to the battlemech bays, the sound of explosions became louder. They could feel the stomps of battlemechs as they hammered each other in the arena. The fight had been going on f or a while, but there were 3 battlemechs still standing, a one-armed Hatchetman, a flaming Wolverine, and a relatively pristine Assassin.

"That's our guy in the Assassin!" Trystan hollered at Saskia's ear. "Watch him, he's great!"

The Hatchetman had lost its hatchet-wielding arm and run out of ammo for the autocannon, so it was constricted to lasers. It desperately fired its laser cannons at the Assassin, but the rushed salvo only hit the concrete wall, adding burnt marks to the already mangled wall. The Assassin returned fire with a deadly salvo to the chest, and the Hatchetman doubled over, dropping to its knees with smoke and steam wafting from its torso.

The Wolverine tried to weasel its way to the top. As the Hatchetman took a knee, the Wolverine sprung from behind a cover and rained down its autocannon on the defenseless 45-tonner. The rattling sound of the autocannon jangled the hangar. A cloud of smoke and burning shards blanketed the Hatchetman, followed by a rain of smoldering parts. The Hachetman fell backward in a mushroom-like cloud.

The Wolverine turned around for the final showdown with the Assassin, but the smaller mech used its jump jets to skid, as if riding a skateboard. The autocannon shells, and the missiles that followed, raked a concrete pillar with murderous intention. The Wolverine kept track of the Assasin, but with its man weapons deprived, the only thing it had left was a medium laser. The laser bolt stabbed the Assassin on the left torso, wiping out the remaining armor, and thrust deep into the internals. Black smoke plumed from the crater, a sure sign of critical damage.

But the Assassin was still combat effective. Laser bolts and missiles hit the Wolverine like a tidal wave, timed perfectly to prevent the bigger mech from mounting a counter attack. Already burning and overheated, the Wolverine was forced to endure, counting on its thick armor as the last line of defense. But even the meager punching power of the Assassin finally wore the armor down. And when the armor was gone, it was a matter of time until the Wolverine crumbled in a thick plume of smoke.

For Saskia, the fight looked as if it ran in slow motion. But she was greatly impressed by the pilot of the Assassin, using speed as its greatest weapon to dismantle bigger, stronger opponents. Trystan, on the other hand, had seen it happened. He knew the Assassin would come out victorious the moment he saw the battle. It was the reason he forced his way to Solaris, and he was not disappointed.

"I told you," he smiled to Saskia. "This guy is phenomenal."

"A fine showing," Saskia nodded in defeat. "I am impressed. Set him to purpose and see us out of here."

The Assassin made its way to the bay, and as soon as it was secured, the pilot climbed down the mech. His cooling vest could barely cover his belly. Sweat dripped from his hands and legs. His soaked red hair stuck on his face, covering his eyes like an English Sheep Dog. It was a marvel he still knew his way around the hangar and not tripped on tools and crates that scattered on the floor.

Saskia could hardly believe her eyes.

"Congratulations, Mr. O'Reilly," Trystan greeted him. "An excellent performance to end the day."

The guy stopped for a while, rummaging his memory, then smiled broadly upon the recollection. "Mr. Vandenberg, the Blazing Aces! It's a surprise, 2 years after we met! Me thought we not see each other again, heh heh."

"I must apologize, I planned to come back to you but other things came in the way," Trystan said. "This is Saskia, the one over there is Osiris. Saskia, Osiris, this is Ronan O'Reilly. You have seen him in a mech. He could be the best mechwarrior in our group, if he decides to join."

"Aye Sir, me join you now, Sir," Ronan smiled.

"But I must tell you, Ronan, much has changed since the first time we met. I can't pay you until we get our first contract, and it may be next year until we can get a contract. I'll fill you with details later, but to make long story short, I don't have money to pay you now. I can only promise food, experience, and salvage rights. Are you still interested, given this condition?"

"Aye Sir, no problem with that, Sir, heh heh," Ronan replied without giving it much thought.

"Are you sure? Consider what you're leaving for an uncertain future, Ronan," Trystan tried to put sense in Ronan's head one last time.

"You keep your promise to come back, Sir. Me keep me promise to work for you."

"Virtues extend beyond wealth," Saskia whispered to Trystan. "This is the path to leadership."

"I shall remember it," Trystan smiled. "Well then, soldier! Get your battlemech to the dropship! You have 48 hours!"

"Aye Sir!" Ronan replied enthusiastically. He stopped to stare at Saskia, then shot a wolfish smile at Trystan. "Sister?"

"No, no, no, she is not my sister!" Trystan couldn't believe Ronan still remembered the conversation with him 3 years ago. "Keep your hands off her, or I'll have Osiris rip them off the socket!"

"Aye Sir, whatever you say, Sir!" Ronan snapped a salute then went back to his mech.

Trystan, Saskia and Osiris went back to the way they came, oblivious to the pair of eyes that had been watching them since they arrived at the hangar…