TEN

Note: I am deeply honored by Kat's and Ogrewolf's last reviews. Thank you guys, your reviews mean a lot to me. Also for other readers, thank you for reading. I hope you like what you see. So far I can stay true to my original plan: to update once a week. I hope I can keep it up.

Death and Glory Arena, Solaris VII,
Freedom Theater, Lyran Alliance,
November 15, 3063

The attack on Grey Wolves' compound changed the way Solaris games were played. Players with Davion affiliations were not targeted by foul plays like they used to. In light circuit, the balance of power shifted from Liao domination toward Davion and Kurita, while in medium circuit, the Davionists almost single-handedly ruled the top board. In heavy and assault circuit, the Grey Wolves quickly fell victim to Steiner loyalists who, after decades of domination, still made the heavier classes their home.

But against my expectation, the rest of the Grey Wolves had not made their moves toward Kyle or me. I had been waiting to take on two or three Grey Wolves charging me with all barrels blazing – the way they cut Kid Gordo to pieces months ago, but it did not happen. I waited for them to lay their dirty hands on me all the way up to the semifinal, but my anticipation ended up in chagrin. I became increasingly jittery about this development. I knew they were on the move, but I did not know what they were planning, so this fact made me nervous.

However, it changed today at medium circuit semifinal.

"Well, well, if it's not the infamous Parker that killed Thunder Thorley," a familiar voice crackled as I guided my Black Jack to my designated spot. "The light circuit is not the same without you, and for a moment I thought you chickened out seeing the true force of Liao people power."

"I felt the same way when you disappeared after our fight at 4-Cross, Difalco," I sneered while putting my mech in idle. "Do you think moving up will give you new confidence?"

"Say what you want, smartass! We're gonna get you, and you'll beg for mercy by then!"

I scanned each mech on the battlefield. A Grim Reaper bore the insignia of Free World, a Clan-made Stormcrow and a Vindicator had Liao's crest on their chests, a Bushwacker with a Steiner's fist was right in front of a FedCom new Hellspawn, and two other mechs a Chimera and a Strider bore insignias that I had never seen before. I had to assume that Difalco was in the Stormcrow. Clearly the Grey Wolves still had an influence on the game, as Difalco appeared on the semifinal despite being absent on regular games. But it was not an important detail. The Stormcrow was a very dangerous mech, and I knew Difalco could use it well.

The fight started, and as I predicted, the Stormcrow quickly turned toward me and launched a barrage of lasers. I threw myself to my left, but one of Difalco's beams boiled the armor on my right torso. His missile launchers flared, throwing up his missiles at my direction. I sidestepped them, but they looped and strafed my right torso, weakened by Difalco's previous shot. My cockpit trembled, my gauges switched from full-fledged report to static back and forth, and my ringing console shouted information that I did not want to hear. My mech tottered under the onslaught. Nevertheless, the neurohelmet quickly picked up the signal and stabilized the Black Jack.

As Difalco receded to reload, his accomplice took the charge and showered me with blue electric charge. Lucky for me he was a lousy shot. His PPC bolt missed my head by a meter or so, and his rushed missiles covered a wide area, raking everything in sight but me. I guided my mech away from them and throttled up to maximum. Before Difalco could use his weapons, I slipped behind a small hill and plunged into a vale that waited behind it.

For a moment I was freed, but I knew it would not be long. Difalco had engaged a full sprint to hunt me down. I knew my 50-ton Black Jack was nowhere near the ferocity of Difalco's Stormcrow, and his skill doubled my disadvantage. Added by a Vindicator as his back up weapon, Difalco was well fortified. It was not the time to play honor. I had to break them up and kill them one by one. Divide and Conquer.

So I quickly changed my direction, swiveling around the hill. Difalco broke formation and pushed his mech up the hill, while the Vindicator continued to stalk me around the bulbous ground. I made a hard turn to the right, and when Difalco reached the top, I was already behind another hill. Driven by revenge, Difalco pumped up his mech, thus leaving his backup farther and farther. My plan worked, but now I had to find a battleground that would boost my advantage over him.

Fortunately, the Hellspawn finished the Strider in a quick fashion and turned to fight Difalco. Its razor-sharp precision staggered Difalco for a while, but the Grey Wolves veteran deftly commandeered his mech to launch a deadly counter attack. The antenna of the Hellspawn burst as a wave of missile peppered its head. Before the Hellspawn could react, two bolts of laser smashed into its protruding torso, melting armor into dripping hot gooey.

I turned to attack the Vindicator, but a Chimera was waiting for me behind a small hill. Together with the Hellspawn, it was a new design, designed to affirm Davion's grip on light-to-medium competition against the Steiner in FedCom Civil War. I did not think it was worth my time fighting the 40-ton mech, so I simply slipped past it to fight the Vindicator. Unfortunately, soon I would learn that it was a big mistake.

As I flanked the new mech, it twisted and spat its medium-range missile. I never thought it would catch me, but Davion's new targeting system was more lethal than anything I had seen before. The missiles smashed into my cockpit, throwing plexiglass splinters into the air. I shut my eyes in time before the chunks ravaged my eyes, but I could feel those nasty shards clobbering my face. Some of them lodged into my lids. It hurt me even to blink. But I had to fight on. I opened my eyes, and my crosshair was gone.

I could not believe what the Chimera did to my mech.

So I was lucky that the cockpit stayed intact, but I had to fight without targeting computer for the rest of the game. I had to rely on my eyes, with bleeding eyelids. I wiped the blood in my face, wincing as the shards sunk deeper into my flesh, and twisted right to face the Chimera. It fired its lasers and burnt a ton of armor on my center torso. The acrid smell sickened me, but I ignored it and blasted my right LBX-10. At 400 meters, the shells carved numerous holes on the Chimera's armor. It pivoted to realign its target, but I followed up with my left cannon. The Chimera twisted, teetering on its left leg as the scattershot pushed it to the side.

I kept the pressure, alternating between left and right cannons with occasional laser shots. My twin LBX-10 worked like drums, delivering one-two punches that kept the Chimera fighting on its heel all the time. Soon its torso engulfed in an inferno, and molten armor dripped like blood. I held my joystick for a moment, waiting for the cannons to fully reload, then fired my power punch to its gut. The Chimera keeled over and pushed aback, then fell flat on its butt, sparking and burning. I knew it would not get up anytime soon.

By this time Difalco had shredded the Hellspawn to pieces, but the little bugger gave him a hard, respectable fight. The Vindicator seemed afraid to duel me, so it turned back and tried to regroup with Difalco. I did not want to let this chance to slip away, so I maxed-out the throttle and hit my jump jets. Airborne midway, I fired my LBX's, hitting the Vindicator's back. The distance was too far for the shells to do serious damage, but nevertheless they made the Vindicator's turn to face me.

I grazed the ground and proceeded with a hard bank, just as it fired off its PPC. The blue bolt flailed wildly above my head. The Vindicator followed up with its missiles, and two of them hit my left torso. The pilot was not a bright warrior, and this fact reflected clearly on his repeated misses. Now he made himself vulnerable by exhausting his weapons all at once. I counted the seconds, waiting for the PPC to recharge, then launched my counterattack milliseconds before the Vindicator fired its particle cannon.

My right LBX belched, sending scattered munitions toward the Vindicator's right side. The 45-ton twisted just as it fired its PPC. The blue charged particle bolt leapt across the distance and hit a small dump of soil, 670 meters away. It swiveled back to the left but I scored another hit with my left LBX. Fragmented armor geysered into the air as the shells whittled the right arm. I added two medium lasers into the arm joint, and smoke twirled from the wound.

The Vindicator backpedaled and showered me with its missiles. The rushed attack managed to carve holes on my right shoulder. The armor tracker turned red, and my right laser threatened to go defunct. My mech leaned to the right, coping with the loss of mass, but I quickly pushed it upright. Two laser shots from the Vindicator hit me on the center, turning the armor tracker into yellow hue. But I shrugged them off, and prepared for my final assault.

I aligned my mech toward the Vindicator's right side, then linked all weapons together. As soon as it aimed its large-bored PPC at me, I squeezed the trigger. I could have made a better shot with a targeting computer, but this sufficed. The integrated bangs deafened me for a second. The Vindicator flailed wildly and internal structure caved in, destroying the power cord connecting the gun with the main generator. Excess particle charges burst from the back of the cannon as the right arm exploded. The wrecked cannon split into three parts, and what remained dangled with several strands of cables and myomer.

Then the Vindicator overheated.

I backed up my mech, putting myself right in front of the Vindicator as it slouched forward in shut down sequence. A glint of dishonor admonished my conscience as I trained my entire arsenal at the Vindicator's midst. But this was Solaris, and I was Wolf no more. I mashed my alpha-strike button, and my Black Jack shook to sustain the resonance of my guns firing at the same time. The Vindicator jerked and fell down, then burst into a gigantic bonfire that illuminated the field for a good while.

I rested for a good scan of the battlefield. The Bushwacker had barely made it out of a close fight against the Grim Reapers, and now was limping toward me. On the other corner of the arena, Difalco finished the Hellspawn with no serious damage, but the little Davion drained a good portion of Difalco's missiles, or so I thought. He realized his cohort had been neutralized, and he put up a good sprint toward me.

I could destroy the Bushwacker for an additional prize, but I opted to use the half-dead mech to weaken Difalco, although I did not think it was much of a use against the Stormcrow. I paced my mech in a half jog then swung to the left, putting the limping Bushwacker between Difalco and me. The Bushwacker turned around, facing Difalco, then let loose a salvo of missiles and lasers that disrupted Difalco's run. The Stormcrow lurched to the side, but quickly sprung back up and punished the Bushwacker for what it did. Lasers stabbed the Bushwacker in the midst, and the 55-ton mech exploded, filling the air with smoke and titanium gristles.

Nevertheless, Difalco's left torso turned orange.

"Good play, Parker, I must give it to you," Difalco croaked. "I would've said respectable, but we both know it's not the fact, don't we?"

"No, it is not, but who are we to judge such things?" I refused to be provoked. "We are players, not juries."

"Once a smartass always a smartass," he puffed. "Only the two of us remained. What are you waiting for? Christmas? Come on, creep! Are you too afraid to fight me head on?"

Difalco chose his weapons wisely this time. His Stormcrow mounted 2 large lasers, 2 medium lasers, and 2 long-range missile launchers. He could fight me all night long if he wanted. But still, he trash-talked the way he did it on our first meeting. Why? Fear? I would think he was not. Perhaps he was overwhelmed with overconfidence. Or perhaps he was goading me. I did not know his intention this time, so I had to be really careful.

"Afraid?" I stepped forward slowly. "I beat your Cougar with a Wasp. Why should I be afraid of you? You cower inside Clan-made mechs, but we both know what you really are. You are nothing but a timey, Difalco. If it is not because of your mech, you are long gone. I think you need to reconsider your definition of 'afraid', because I seriously doubt that you even understand what it means."

"You've never beaten me, asshole!" Difalco dashed forward, clearly provoked by my insult. "You just got lucky that one time, but now I will eat your heart! Prepare to die!"

Anger negated common sense. That was what happened. Consumed by anger, Difalco lunged at me, abandoning his fighting scheme that he practiced so well up to this point. On the other hand, it worked best to my advantage. My LBX-10's would be perfect at 300 meters, while he would struggle to make his long-range missiles to work. I throttled up and pointed my weapons at Difalco, still separated by a small hill.

As he emerged from behind the hill, I burst my jump jets and slid forward, quickly getting into 300-m range. Difalco fired his lasers, one of which drilled my center torso. But I held my joystick tight, and at 300 meters, hit my alpha strike. Difalco's left torso turned blinking red, spurting sparks and smoke along with engine parts. I steered my mech to curve behind his blind spot, waiting for my guns to reload. Difalco vainly twisted right, but he could not get me on his crosshair. He swung to the other direction and fired his missiles in quick succession, but the rushed attack went wide, carving holes on the ground.

As soon as I heard the clangs, I fired again. I concentrated on his left torso, and although my shots were severely hindered by the lack of targeting computer, they fell in the right direction. Fire spewed from the boxy torso, followed by multiple explosions that flung metal bits into a wide area. The left missile launcher was replaced by void.

The Stormcrow jerked and staggered, but never once lost its balance. It pivoted and twisted, then fired everything at me. I flinched, but Difalco spread his shot so wide two laser strands cooked my weakened right torso. Smoke billowed from the wound, and with my canopy literally blasted to pieces, the black smoke stormed into the cockpit. My eyes welled up with tears, and every time I blinked to clear my vision, my eyelids pumped out blood that obscured my eyes further.

Difalco knew I was in pain. He turned and sank another round of laser into my midst. I could hear the sizzling sound of armor as it streaked and dripped to the ground. I pushed the throttle to maximum, trying to get out of his line of fire, but I could not see his position. There was so much smoke in the cockpit that I could not even see my own hands. Another set of lasers and my mech was on fire, putting even more smoke into my eyes.

I did not care about how much smoke I put into my lung. I just wanted to see. The combination of tears, blood, and smoke blinded me, and I could not rub my eyes because of the glass splinters in my face. As a desperate move, I triggered my jets and soared backward. I knew I would give Difalco enough time to use his missiles, but I could care less about what he could and could not do. I had to clear my eyes!

I landed on the ground, just as my proximity alarm rang. Seconds later the cockpit rocked in a huge blast. All kinds of warning message squealed on top of each other. I shook my head, trying to get a clear vision. Indistinctly I saw a flicker of light in front of me, just before my console announced that I had lost my right LBX-10. So that was Difalco's lasers. I could shoot at that vicinity, but I did not know how far he was. My only chance was to charge that source of light until my eyes were right in front of his. It was a crazy, stupid maneuver, but I had to take it. I did not have any other choice.

So I reversed direction and sprinted forward, using my jets to add more speed. I saw the flicker again, a little bit to the left, and I adjusted my direction. I did not know how close or how far he was. All I know was I had tremendous impact that almost threw me out of my mech. The straps reined me in, but the impact jarred my entire cockpit so hard I thought I would throw up. But I knew I was in contact with Difalco.

Without thinking, I shoved my left arm forward until it nudged a hard wall. I triggered my remaining LBX cannon, and the explosion jerked me behind. I felt a sharp wind snapping on my face as a bright light bloomed. The shockwave pushed me behind, and I could feel my mech trotting backward. The Black Jack should be in combat loss grouping now, but I saw light danced in front of me.

Difalco was on fire.

I did not know what it was. I trained all my guns at the flicker and mashed my triggers repeatedly. Multiple light strands blitzed, followed by ear-splitting booms from my LBX, making the light dot bigger and bigger. And one particular shot turned the flicker into a bright blotch, followed by loud boom that was unmistakably an explosion. The heat almost took me over, and for a moment I thought that I was the center of the explosion. But it eventually subsided, leaving me with a dark, acrid environment.

I waited for some time until the techs helped me get out of my mech. I was put in a stretcher, and the ambulance car rushed me to nearby hospital. When I asked one of the paramedics, he explained that Difalco did not make it. He was knocked out unconscious when I rammed my mech on his Stormcrow. That was the last everybody saw him alive.