STEEL WOLF

Chapter 13: Sinking Feeling

Desert arena, Vargas Estate, Korla,

Lyran Alliance,

August 27, 3075

Feeling comfortable in the warm cockpit of his Shadow Hawk, Carlos Vargas double-checked that his neuro-helmet was securely wired to his 'mech's systems, then pressed his foot onto the acceleration pedal. The 55-ton 'mech lurched and broke into a trot toward Carlos' designated starting spot in the sandy arena, the late afternoon sun watching on the horizon like a glowing eye. Breathing in deep, Carlos tried to calm his mind as he heard the announcer welcome everyone to this semi-finals match. Just do it by the book. This match should be no different than any other. And once I win, I'll get my spot in the final game! I'm here to make Korla desert arena history.

Still, Carlos glanced at the photograph of Cassandra Goyua that he had in the cockpit and he got a cold, sinking feeling in his gut. Something's not right. Ever since she and I got back from the oasis trip, she's been acting distant toward me. It seems like something is bothering her, but what could it be?

Forcing such issues from his mind, Carlos gripped his joysticks tightly and settled his 'mech into position, his heart already hammering from excitement. Here, in the arena, his expertise and skill came into play and it made him feel powerful. Plus, his opponent didn't seem like much to be afraid of: just an Enfield painted blue and black with gold highlights. Making a quick scan, Carlos confirmed that this 'mech had the standard weapons: an LBX-10 in the right arm, along with a large pulse laser in the left torso. Two medium lasers and a small laser in the torso rounded out the 'mech's weaponry.

"Let the match begin!" the announcer boomed, and Carlos immediately dropped his crosshairs onto the enemy 'mech and waited for a target lock. This guy made a big mistake, painting his 'mech so it stands out so easily. He has no idea what he's doing! And he'll have to get much closer to me in order to deal damage. I've got the range here.

As soon as Carlos' reticule achieved a target lock, Carlos confidently squeezed his trigger. Fifteen LRMs roared out of his Shadow Hawk's right shoulder and raced toward the Enfield. The Enfield broke out into a full spring, pumping its arms as it tore across the dunes toward its foe. It didn't even flinch at the incoming LRMs and Carlos soon found out why: a sharp crackle of bullets signaled the presence of at least one AMS installed into the 'mech. And judging by how many LRMs were shot down, the Enfield probably had two AMS machines stuck into it. Only six LRMs reached the target, blasting off a little armor from the Enfield's center torso.

Getting within 350 meters' distance, the Enfield raised its right arm and let loose with an LBX-10 volley. Carlos wrenched his joysticks to the side, quickly scampering to the left. Most of the shotgun-like LBX rounds hissed through empty air, but a few rounds caught the Shadow Hawk on its arm, and the kinetic force threw the Shadow Hawk off-balance. The Enfield lit up with its laser batteries, its twin medium lasers raking armor off the Shadow Hawk's left torso. A second later, the Enfield's large pulse laser hammered the Shadow Hawk with countless thick laser bolts, melting armor off the 55-ton 'mech from head to toe.

Furious, Carlos raised his 'mech's arms and triggered his two wrist-mounted ER medium lasers. Both red beams stabbed into the Enfield's right torso, but the 50-ton 'mech took the attack in stride and hit back. Another LBX-10 volley raced through the air, and this time the Shadow Hawk took the full brunt of the assault on the torso. Carlos hung on tightly to his joysticks as he was thrown back and forth in his cockpit, his head aching from being thrown around. His whole 'mech wobbled and creaked loudly in protest, flakes of armor flying everywhere. Slamming his feet on his pedals, Carlos triggered his 'mech's jump jets, feeling himself get shoved into his seat by the G-forces. His move was just in time: the Enfield must have flushed its coolant, because it fired again with all of its lasers. However, the lasers slashed through the empty air where the Shadow Hawk had stood.

Drifting up and away from his foe, Carlos swept his crosshairs downwards on his ground-based target, squeezing a different trigger. This time, the Ultra Autocannon 5 on his 'mech's left shoulder came to life, throwing shells down at the waiting Enfield. The Enfield shuddered and backed up a step from the impact, and Carlos quickly fired again, taking advantage of the UAC 5's short recycle delay. Once again the Enfield shuddered as the shells raked its shoulders, but now the 50-ton 'mech ran after the flying Shadow Hawk, daring Carlos to land.

Carlos knew that he had to keep far away from the Enfield to press his advantage, but his jump jets wouldn't hold out much longer and he'd have to use his remaining jump jet fuel to control his landing. So, Carlos flung his LRMs at the Enfield as a distraction, then drifted toward a nearby, tall dune as a landing spot. While the Enfield's twin AMS machines worked on the LRMs, Carlos guided his Shadow Hawk closer to the dune, praying that his jump jet fuel would hold out. Luckily, his 'mech's feet landed securely on the dune's top while a fifth of the jump jet fuel remained.

Unfortunately, the Enfield was waiting for this moment.

"Damn it!" Carlos blurted as the 50-ton 'mech marched up within 50 meters' distance. Carlos crouched his Shadow Hawk as the Enfield fired up its LBX-10, and the shotgun-like shells roared over the Shadow Hawk's head. However, the Enfield's large pulse laser peppered the Shadow Hawk's arms, wearing the armor dangerously thin. Carlos realized grimly that if his arms' titanium bones or myomer muscles were lost, he'd be cut off from his only energy weapons. He quickly stood up straight and hastily shot back with his ER medium lasers. One laser went wide while the other one drilled into the Enfield's left torso, causing a little molten armor to ooze to the sand.

The Enfield backed up a step and started running circles around the Shadow Hawk, making sure to stay close in order to render Carlos' LRMs completely useless. Carlos pushed his throttle to maximum and broke out of the Enfield's trap, holding fire in favor of repositioning. The Enfield, frustrated, whirled around and fired its medium lasers, but both bolts went wide and shot through empty air. Using his jump jets to strafe backwards, Carlos triggered his UAC again, chipping more armor off the Enfield's right torso. Then Carlos triggered his lasers again, and both bolts punished the Enfield's center torso, wearing the armor thin.

Infuriated, the Enfield's pilot fired a few large pulse laser bolts at the retreating Shadow Hawk, but the bolts went wide. However, the lasers proved to be only a distraction: the Enfield's LBX-10 roared to life, and its shells sheared off the Shadow Hawk's arm at the shoulder with a shower of sparks, smoke, and torn myomer muscles.

And there goes one laser! Carlos realized grimly, his stomach churning as his whole 'mech swayed from the loss of mass. He watched the Enfield confidently march forward, the sinking feeling in his gut intensifying. Was I wrong? Will I just be a footnote in desert arena history after all?

Then a thought occurred to him. I still have a way out of this! Carlos swallowed tightly as he swept his reticule on his opponent, taking careful aim and firing. His UAC 5 shells smashed into the Enfield's right shoulder, blasting off even more armor. For good measure, Carlos triggered his LRM 15 as well, feeling a wave of heat wash through his cockpit. Carlos grimaced against the heat, feeling sweat bead on his skin. Still, the missiles did their work: although only a few of them actually hit the Enfield, their kinetic force kept the Enfield staggering back. Another UAC 5 blast punched into the Enfield's right shoulder, breaking through the armor and throwing the Enfield even further off-balance. Carlos' remaining ER medium laser also stabbed into the Enfield's left shoulder, and this time a blast of sparks and fire flew from the injury. One last UAC 5 blast sheared off the Enfield's right arm, and the limb fell heavily to the dunes, rolling away.

The Enfield's inner gyro was finally overwhelmed, and the 50-ton 'mech lurched as though drunk and fell flat onto its back. Getting another idea, Carlos sprinted forward, quickly closing the distance between him and his downed foe. The Enfield was already struggling to get back up, but with only one arm, the 'mech kept falling back down. Firing up his jump jets, Carlos landed right on top of the Enfield, planting his 'mech's feet close to the Enfield. Aiming his remaining ER medium laser at the Enfield's cockpit, Carlos wordlessly dared his opponent to eject or face certain death. Carlos was rewarded by the Enfield's cockpit roaring out of the 'mech's head on its thruster jets, and the victory horn sounded as the audience exploded into cheers.

"And there we have it, ladies and gentlemen! Carlos Vargas was earned his place in the finals match!" boomed the announcer. "The winner of our next match will be Carlos' final opponent, but for now, Mr. Vargas is free to go home and rest. He has certainly earned it!"

Yeah, really, Carlos thought with fatigue, slumping in his command couch. And after that, the championship trophy is mine!