EIGHTEEN

Liao Jungle Arena, Cathay,
Solaris City, Solaris VII,
Freedom Theater, Lyran Alliance,
January 29, 3065

Omar's son entered the arena in a Hellbringer, painted in red-white-blue scheme that could be spotted from dozens of miles away. The 65-ton omnimech sported a couple of LBX-10, a couple of medium lasers, and a streak SRM 4 pack. It was obvious that he did not know anything about real combat. He was confined in his father's comfort, and to him mech fighting was nothing more than a game. He did not know that walking into Solaris arena was equal to signing a military contract.

And he had a malevolent attitude.

"Now you're to cover my rear, Parker," he said over the comlink, bleeding cockiness. "I expect nothing less than that. Screw me around and you can say goodbye to your waitress girlfriend."

"Do you want to survive this round?" I replied. "Stay close to me and do exactly what I say. There are not many aces left, but Kyle Garret is still around. He is in an Axman-3S. That variant sports powerful short-range weapons. Avoid him at all cost. He can rip your priceless toy in a second."

"I'm the one that's giving order, not you," he rebuked. "Shut your mouth and do what I tell you."

He entered the arena with 85-to-1 odd. Nobody knew him, and nobody had fought him in the regular season. His entrance into the final with just 4-3 professional records had stirred a firestorm in the media. But it worked very well with his father. Put a million c-bills on his son and he would come up with enough money to buy an entire stable. I could imagine that Omar would go all the way, knowing that I would do everything in my power to secure his finance.

I could only hope he was an honorable man.

"Move left!" I yelled as soon as the match started. The kid was placed right in front of an Archer. The missile mech had been locking on him since the introduction, and a blizzard of warheads charged the Hellbringer seconds after the horn blared. The Artemis IV guiding system steered the missiles to attack the head. And the kid punched the throttle to get into range, oblivious of death that loomed over him.

"Move left!!" I roared, whipping my mech to full speed. Lucky for me, the kid turned left, exposing his right side at the inbound missiles. Half of the missiles slammed into his right shoulder, shredding armor and myomer into useless heap. I arrived to take the second half. I blocked the kid from the incoming warheads, sacrificing half a ton of armor on my right torso as his shield. Brilliant flash covered my canopy, jerking my Argus backward, tumbling at the Hellbringer.

"What the hell are you doing!" the kid snorted. "Get off my mech! You're blocking my target!"

"That target has Artemis, and if I did not block you, you are already dead!" I shouted. "Get something else to fight. This Archer is mine."

A burst of profanity flooded my comlink, but I could care less about what he said. The Archer receded, waiting for its missiles to reload. I pushed my mech back up and fired my missiles to distract it. The Archer's AMS took out the majority of my warheads, but two grazed its torso. The explosion was enough to disrupt its course, thus delaying its missile rain for one second.

My RAC was still far away from the Archer, so I opted to run behind the bush. When the missiles leapt into the air, I hid my mech under the thicket. The missiles slammed into the vegetation, creating major fire that wiped out exotic plants in the vicinity. But I was spared. Only two missiles reached me, and my armor handled them very well.

I paced my mech forward, knowing that I only had 5 seconds before the next wave came in. Getting into 500-meter range, I fired a long burst of RAC, accompanied by a set of missiles. Shards of metal raced into the air, and the 70-ton mech staggered, but quickly shrugged off the attack. Its launchers turned squarely toward me.

I maneuvered to the left when out of nowhere a Gauss slug pounded me from my left flank. I felt my mech tipped to the right, and if I were not restrained to the command couch, I would have been flying off the seat. The impact jarred the cockpit, and half of the gauges went static. I grasped the joystick as hard as I could, bringing my mech back to its feet, twisting left to face the sneaky attacker.

A Liao's Jinggau burst from behind a bush and fired everything it had at my mech. Nasty mech, it was. At 65-ton, 85-kph, and 150-meter jump capability, Capellan engineers were still able to put in a Gauss rifle and a quadruple lasers. It was a formidable foe, even for an assault.

Two laser burst vaporized a layer of armor on my left leg, and my armor gauge turned yellow. Before I could answer, missiles from the Archer pushed my mech forward, chipping armor on the back halfway through the internal structure. I barely regained my balance when the second Gauss round slugged me, this time at the center. The momentum brought my mech teetering behind. Two laser strikes singed my right torso, and the armor gauges turned dangerously red.

I could use a bit of help, but where was the kid? I did not have time to look for him. Perhaps his cockiness brought him to fight another ace. Screw him. I could not do anything if I could not get out of this crossfire. But I did not have many options. The Jinggau was better than my Argus in almost every aspect. But I could use the Archer as my shield. It was highly unlikely that they worked together. It was just a coincidence that they fought a common enemy.

Fortunately for me, the Archer was a sloth.

Swaying from side to side, I broke into a sprint, dodging dozens of laser blasts from both mechs. I engaged a loop with the Archer as the center. Lazy as it could be, the Archer just pivoted and twisted to keep me on its crosshair. But doing so, it exposed its delicate rear at the Jinggau. The Liao mech did not waste the opportunity. It sank its next Gauss slug at the Archer's back. The humanoid figure lurched forward, almost toppled, and the subsequent laser attack gushed smoke from the crack.

The Archer turned back, and a second of locking guaranteed a direct hit. The missiles raced out of the tubes like a flurry, peppering the right side of the Jinggau with razor-sharp accuracy. The Liao careened, but quickly compensated by flexing its left leg. But the Archer was not about to stop. Two laser bolts stabbed the Jinggau on the right torso, deepening the scars the missiles instigated a second ago.

That Jinggau posed more threat than the aging Archer, so I triggered my RAC and my missiles, sending munitions at the exact spot the Archer harassed. Molten splinters splattered on the Archer's torso as my RAC munitions gouged the armor on the right torso, carving two deep holes that almost reached the internal structure. The Jinggau hesitantly turned its torso toward me, covering up its wound from subsequent attack. It blasted its jet, and one second later, fired its Gauss rifle.

I pushed my joystick down, bringing my Argus into a half crouch. The 125-kilogram nickel-ferrous ball sped above my head, leaving only a disturbance in the air as it rammed a tree behind me. I squeezed my trigger, and my RAC barked, spitting dozens of rounds. Only one third of them connected to the Jinggau, but they were enough to mangle the armor on the hull, pulling off cracks and cavities.

As the Jinggau landed, I slipped behind the Archer again, putting the 70-ton relic right between the Jinggau and me. The Archer waited for a hard lock, then fired its missiles in full force. The Jinggau wobbled, taking several steps behind as the missiles chastised the torso. Sparks started to spray from its right torso. I added the insult by a long burst of RAC, followed by a set of missiles. The last rounds hit the Gauss feeding mechanism, and the right torso blossomed into an orange fireball.

Stripped from the Gauss rifle, the Jinggau firepower was significantly reduced. I lined up with the cracks on the Archer's back, the handiwork of the Jinggau, and unleashed my entire arsenal at them. The large mech staggered forward by the intensity of the attack. The thin armor caved in, exposing the reactor casing. I fired my RAC, and tongues of fire licked from the Archer's depth. The Archer dropped to one knee, and looking at the damage, I doubted it would get up anytime soon.

That left me with the Jinggau.

Even without the Gauss Rifle, the Jinggau was still formidable. I could not count out the quadruple laser and its superior speed. But at least, its right side was damaged. I rotated to the left, trying to catch its bad side. The Jinggau realized what I was doing, and it mimicked my move. We were locked in a circle of death, bartering lasers and ballistics at every turn.

The Liao pilot realized that he could not win against me with lasers only, so he broke off engagement and tried to avoid me. I did not want to let it go. I lined up with its butt, then shoved a long drive of ballistics. The 65-ton machine arced forward, but kept running forward, maintaining its balance with several quick bursts of jets.

I watched my ammunition. I used up 65 percent of my RAC, so I switched to my missiles. The warheads leapt and made a beautiful arc on the air before slamming at the Jinggau's back. The blasts damaged the power line. Its legs trembled, and the Liao turned back to face me in a desperate move. I halted my mech just outside the medium laser's range then pumped up my RAC. The bullets shattered the armor just below the cockpit, weakened by the Archer. Splinters geysered from the explosion that mutilated the Jinggau from inside.

As the Liao mech fell, I observed the arena. There were about one-third of mechs left, the Hellbringer included. I was just about to draw a relieved breath when I realized what that stupid kid was fighting. He was bringing his mech closer and closer to an Axman, pounding the hatchet-wielding mech with his inaccurate marksmanship. The Axman dodged most of the attack, and it lured the Hellbringer into its trap, setting up the kill using its scattershot cannon and hatchet.

Kyle Garret.

What an idiot. Why in his right mind did he assume he was good enough to challenge Kyle Garret? Now he put me on a crossroad, and for a moment I did not know what to do. I could not just barge in and fight Kyle. But if the kid did not survive, Emi would pay for my sin. I did not have time to explain anything to Kyle. I figured that Kyle was a fine warrior. He could take care of himself. I would side with Emi – and the kid – on this one.

At the first opportunity, I launched my missiles, striking Kyle from long range. They were not enough to hurt him, but they robbed his concentration. As Kyle turned toward me, I let loose a long barrage of RAC munitions. Half of them slammed into Kyle's right torso. I could imagine Kyle's face when he knew that it was I that had been harassing him from long range.

"Parker?" he croaked. "Parker, what are you doing?"

"I am sorry," I muttered. "I do not have a choice."

"What are you talking about?"

"Leave the kid alone. He is not a worthy opponent. Fight me."

"Why are you babysitting a rookie? I don't want to fight you just yet!"

"Fine. I will fight you."

"What? Have you lost your mind, you damn Clanner?"

I did not respond. My mind screamed, asking me to stop this insanity. But with every losing minute, Emi came closer and closer to harm. Why did this keep happening? Why did I continuously harm people that were close to me? I knew this would damage my relationship with Davions forever, but once again, I could not let Emi suffer for my mistakes. I wished there were another way.

"I am sorry," I emphasized each word with utmost remorse, just before I sent another set of missiles. "I will explain later. Just forget the kid and fight me."

The missiles peppered Kyle's torso, but the Davion fired up his jets, bringing his 65-ton machine flying in the air, straight to my direction. It was only natural that he would bring his mech close as soon as possible. His LBX-20 would deal considerable damage, and while the enemy was still groggy, he would finish up with his hatchet. It was a simple but deadly 2-pronged blow, and one of the few advantages over Clan's independence on physical attack. He knew it. He knew I would be in trouble fighting at close range.

My Argus would not survive such an attack.

Just as Kyle was about to land, I hit my alpha strike button aimed at his right leg. The blasts stole the balance out of his leg, and the Axman swayed comically, spreading its arms wide to maintain balance. I made a tight turn to the right, and rammed my mech at the swaying Axman. The crash ripped my right torso open, exposing delicate structure to the cold air. But Kyle did not expect that I would use physical attack that early. He lost control of his mech, and the lanky Axman toppled like a timber.

"What's gotten into you?" I heard Kyle protested from inside his mech. "Who's that Loki pilot?"

"No one important," I pounded Kyle's leg while he was still on the ground. "But somebody's life depends on this match. I have to do this."

"What have you gotten yourself into?" Kyle struggled to get up. "Stop this, or I will do you harm."

"I cannot," I replied. "Do the best you can, Kyle. I am not holding myself back."

Suddenly Kyle blasted his jets, and turning half a circle in the air, he gunned his LBX-20. The splintered munitions hammered my exposed internal structure, and my right torso erupted, dislodging my RAC. Acrid burning myomer seeped into the cockpit, and the explosion shoved my mech to the left. The legs strained to hold the sudden loss of mass, and I had to push the joystick to the extreme to keep my mech from tumbling. Fire raged on my torso.

"You can stop this madness and tell me what's going on, or I'll squash you to the ground," Kyle spoke with distaste that I had never heard before. "I respect you as a friend, but if you don't do the same to me, I will regard you as my enemy. We are not playing games, Parker."

"Even if I tell you, there is nothing you can do," I rebuked. "So let us just finish this fight."

"As you wish, then," Kyle soared again, this time straight at me. I paced my mech to the side, losing Kyle's line of fire, then decked his leg with my missiles. It was un-Clan-like, deliberately aiming my shots at the leg, but I did not want to kill Kyle. I just wanted to disable him, enough to get him out of the competition. The shot scarred the armor of the right leg. Kyle landed and turned around, but I buried two laser blasts at his hip. Molten armor trickled down his leg.

Just then, the Hellbringer joined the fray, firing its entire arsenal at the Axman. The lousy shots missed miserably, but two of the streak missiles slammed into Kyle's rear torso. Kyle turned around and traced his attacker, but I hit him on the right leg. His armor gauge turned orange. Kyle ignored my assault and fired his LBX-20 at the Hellbringer. The shot landed on the left torso, wrecking the missile launcher. The Hellbringer drooped back in swaying gait. Kyle charged it, readying his hatchet for a harsh blow.

"Shoot his leg!" I yelled, which the kid complied. The twin LBX-10 roared, and Kyle's right leg blew up into smithereens. A good mechwarrior that he was, he fired his jets and leapt, aiming for the Hellbringer's cockpit. I quickly fired my missiles, peppering his back, rendering him flying out of focus. He landed on one leg, then quickly toppled to the side.

"I am sorry," I said to Kyle through private frequency. "I owe you an explanation."

"Don't bother," he huffed. "Next time I see you, I will kill you."

I threw a quick scan throughout the arena, and there were only 2 mechs left standing. The Hellbringer cockily came to my presence and established private connection, "Your service is no longer needed. Now you can yield and submit yourself to my father. He will release the waitress shortly after I got my trophy."

This kid did not understand what he was asking. Doing so would incite a worldwide scandal. His father would be thrown into convoluted investigation by the Steiner, the one that I went through several months back. No, I had to make it realistic. Besides, I would never yield to a brat. Ever.

Instead, I fired my missiles at him.

"Hey! Are you deaf?" he bemoaned as my missiles struck his chest. "Exit your mech and surrender!"

"The match is progressing, and the laws are still in effect," I explained, but I doubted he would ever take it seriously. "Yielding will stir a scandal which hurts your father."

"He can take care of himself," he scorned. "Exit and surrender, or die heathen!"

"I take my chances," I replied, firing my lasers at his legs. "Fight me."

The Hellbringer hoisted both arms and fired off its LBX-10's. I held my mech still. The clustered rounds hit me like a tsunami. Heat bled into the cockpit as three internal explosions gnawed my Argus. I pulled the ejection lever, seconds before my mech turned into an inferno.

I glided down, and a tractor was waiting for me. It brought me back to the hangar, and Emi was there, waiting for me with tears in her eyes. Finally, I could heave a sigh of relief. As soon as I dislodged the tractor, she rammed herself into my embrace, crying her heart out. I held her, and from the corner of my eyes I spotted Kyle Garret stealing a glance at me, before he hoped onto a truck containing what was left of his Axman. It might be the last time I would ever see him.

"Are you alright?" I asked Emi when she seemed to calm down.

"Parker, I'm so scared," Emi said after a long while. "What are we going to do?"

"I am going to Atreus," I stated, "and you are coming with me."