Think Like a Cat

by Lucen Dacier

In this short story, a freeborn cadet starts on his Trial of Position, with all the odds stacked against him.

Training Camp

Clearfield

Irece Prefecture – Clan Nova Cat Holdings

21 May 3073

The fire pit was down to embers, the meditation circle having ended an hour ago. Each cadet had taken their time staring into the flames while the Keeper had recounted the history of the Clan to them, quoting passages of the Remembrance. He had lectured them about traditions, about the future, and about their will to go on and take this final step. He had also made sure to remind them that this night was the closest many of them would ever come to being Warriors.

Like all his other sibkin, Rion had stared into the fire, seeking a vision of things to come. A nova cat was more than just a hunter, the Keeper had said. Any mundane predator can kill something weak. A nova cat hunted strong prey, the kind that fought back. It fought not just with strength and claws, but with intelligence and patience. It would stalk its quarry for hours, sometimes days, before moving in. It watched, using both its eyes and its mind to see that which could not be seen. Then, and only then, did it strike.

Rion had only seen a living nova cat once when he had been a child, before his family had been forcibly evacuated from the homeworld with the rest of the Clan. He had been struck by the creature's quiet confidence, fearlessly stalking beasts that would have been a mortal threat to an armed soldier. He had seen the spirit of the nova cat embodied in metal less than a month later, as the homeworld of the Clan had come under attack.

At the time he had been too young to understand what "Abjuration" meant. He had only seen the giant BattleMechs, sporting the colors of other Clans and firing on his friends and neighbors. And standing against them had been the Nova Cat MechWarriors, returning fire from their own BattleMechs in full knowledge that very few of them would get to join the civilians being evacuated on the DropShips. They had been Clan Warriors, and it had been their duty. They had held the line even as their numbers dwindled and, one by one, their 'Mechs were shot out from under them.

Rion found himself wondering if this was what it had been like for those Warriors, as he crashed into the dirt.

The fire had only been the first part of the night's activities. With ceremony and tradition out of the way, things had turned to the Trial itself. Trueborns, perfected candidates produced from the Clan's genetic engineering program, would have had the right to choose their machines for their Trial of Position. They would have been able to march into a fair battle against their enemies to earn entry into the Warrior caste. Freeborn, on the other hand, were not granted such a luxury. Their randomized, chaotic bloodlines born from the old method of human reproduction made them barely fit to even be here, as the Keeper had reminded them many times during training. The machines for Rion's sibko had been delivered into the middle of the jungle around the training base, as had their opponents. The cadets had been turned loose at the edge of the jungle hours before sunrise, and told the rules: secure a machine and get at least one kill by the end, or you fail.

The Keeper had also mentioned that though there were fifteen sibko cadets remaining for the Trial, there were only eight BattleMechs to be found out in the jungle.

With that in mind, it was really no surprise what had happened shortly afterwards. Rion had been making his way through the dark underbrush when someone had tried to tackle him from behind. It was a decidedly unClanlike tactic, but Clan rules became very pliable when freebirths were involved, even moreso when entry to the Warrior caste was on the line.

Rion had managed to turn away at the last second to keep his attacker from getting a hold on him, but he had still been knocked off-balance by the force of the tackle. He crashed to the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of his lungs. He rolled with the impact and stood up shakily, resisting the urge to check his helmet for damage. He didn't have time to check his equipment; he doubted he even had time to catch his breath.

His opponent was imposing and solidly built, standing over a dozen centimeters taller than him. Like all the other cadets, he wore a dark jumpsuit and a metallic helmet. The uniform made details hard to pick out, but from his size Rion knew it was Ian, one of the most ruthless cadets of the sibko. Where Rion came solely from freeborn stock, Ian counted an Elemental as his father, and it showed in both his build and his demeanor.

"I have no quarrel with you," Rion said breathlessly. "There are already enough threats out here, quiaff?"

Ian stood ready, his weight on the balls of his feet. His sneer was barely visible through his helmet's faceplate. "The little Technician running from a battle, I am not even surprised."

Rion clenched his fists at the jab. It was a nickname he had picked up over the training – born from two Technicians, he had spent the first few years of his life around those who repaired and maintained the Clan's war machines. Even after qualifying for Warrior training, he had spent what little free time he had talking with the base Technicians, getting some familiar comfort talking about the machines and their specifications. The habit had not won him much respect among the rest of his sibko however, even though they all came from low-caste upbringings themselves. Rion remembered Ian's parents were from the Laborer caste, but he also knew calling Ian a Laborer was a quick way to get his nose broken.

"A Warrior would do well to listen to a Technician once in awhile," Rion shot back. "They would at least know I am not your enemy."

"Think again," Ian growled. "You are an enemy to the Clan. We do not need your weakness among our ranks." He took a low stance, his legs tensing like he'd learned in hand-to-hand training, ready to pounce upon Rion like the great nova cat.

It was an aggressive move, forcing Rion to think quickly. He could not let Ian get a hold of him; Rion had seen the big cadet break a man's arm like it was a twig. So instead of trying to block as the pounce came, Rion fell backwards. Rolling onto his back, he put one leg in Ian's stomach, swinging him up and over himself to crash to the ground a few meters away. Rion kept rolling with the momentum, rising smoothly back to his feet. He wasted a precious half-second considering his options, then turned and bolted into the jungle before Ian could get back up.

It was not Clanlike to run from a fight, but again, the rules bent for freebirths on their Trial of Position. All that mattered was finding a machine and besting an opponent. It was folly to fall amongst each other trying to thin out the competition for the BattleMechs out here. Already more than enough to worry about, Rion thought to himself as he felt the muffled thump of massive footsteps through the ground. Their opponents were out there, searching for them from the cockpits of their BattleMechs. They would be solahma, warriors so old they were seen as expendable. Unfortunately that also meant they were highly experienced from their years of service.

Once he was sure he was not being pursued, Rion took a moment to lean against a tree and pull off his helmet, carefully looking it over in the dim light from the stars. The Keeper had given a helmet to each of them at the beginning of the Trial. It was a neurohelmet, which would let the cadets interface with a BattleMech should they manage to find one. Of Clan make, it was no heavier or more restrictive than a standard infantry helmet, allowing the wearer to turn their head and move normally while wearing it. This one had been modified with recording devices, keeping track of each cadet's actions during the Trial in order to confirm any kills. The Keeper had also explained that maintaining your helmet was part of your Trial: if the recording became corrupted, or if your helmet was damaged or lost, you failed.

Rion could see no significant damage to his helmet even after tussling with Ian, and the displays on the transparent faceplate seemed unaffected. Satisfied, he pulled it back on. At least I may have a future as a Technician after this, he thought to himself, before he shook his head, pushing that thought away. If he would be satisfied living out his life as a Technician he would have stayed at home.

He looked up at the snap of superheated air somewhere in the distance. He recognized it as the report of a pulse laser. It was too early in the Trial for any of the cadets to have found a 'Mech already. Something was out there hunting them. A solahma had no honor to lose by picking off unarmed cadets, especially freebirths. Rion clenched his jaw and continued onwards through the jungle. Before long he found toppled trees and the mark of gigantic footsteps in the underbrush – a BattleMech had been through here recently.

Rion knelt down, studying the footprint. A nova cat was a thinking animal. It did not charge blindly into a fight, it learned what it was up against first. From the wide heel sitting deeper in the mud than the squared-off toes, he could identify it as the footprint of a Conjurer, a Clan second line unit. There was no way it was one of his sibkin; with materiel getting harder to come by after the Abjuration, the Clan would not trust that sort of hardware to a freebirth cadet. But under the Conjurer's footsteps were prints of another, lighter 'Mech, heading in another direction. It was a clue, at least.

The night seemed to swim in Rion's eyes as he started following the footprints. Clearfield was a harsh planet, with a thin atmosphere and gravity at thirty percent higher than standard. The environment alone had driven many of Rion's sibkin out of the Warrior program. Rion had nearly adjusted to the tough conditions, but the stress of the Trial, the day of fasting ahead of time, and the ceremonial spices the Keeper had thrown on the fire for them to inhale were all having their effect. He did his best to lean into the waves of vertigo, seeking any lingering visions they might bring. Stumbling around in the dark chasing a BattleMech a hundred times his size in the hopes of finding another 'Mech empty and ready for him, he could use any help he could get.

He tripped over a branch and staggered into a tree, trying to catch his balance. As he sagged with sudden nausea he looked up, seeing a glint of starlight off of metal through a break in the branches. Taking a breath to steady himself, he stood up and made his way towards it.

The branches parted under his touch as he entered into a clearing. He saw the vehicles almost immediately – a Badger tank and a Bandit hovertank. They were sitting silently in the dark, their hatches open and waiting.

Rion knew this was no coincidence. Despite the Keeper's warning about how few 'Mechs were available, the Clan was still duty-bound to provide enough machines for every cadet that had made it through training to participate in the Trial of Position. Without enough 'Mechs for Rion's entire sibko, they had had to fill in the blanks with vehicles, inviting the freeborn to take their rightful place. Vehicles were a far better match for freebirth warriors than BattleMechs, at least according to the Keeper.

As he took in the sight of the vehicles, he felt the thump of heavy footsteps growing stronger. Rion's blood went cold as he heard trees cracking with the movement of something enormous. Without hesitation he dove under the Badger.

Behind him a tree was uprooted, crashing heavily to the ground. With a whine from its myomer actuators, the Conjurer stepped into view. The fifty-ton BattleMech loomed overhead, looking down at the clearing and the tanks sitting in the middle of it. Rion held his breath, only able to see the giant machine's feet from his hiding place. He could practically feel the Conjurer's sensors sweeping over him, scanning for heat, noise, or even the micro-tremors of human footsteps. Rion tried to force his heart to stop beating so hard for fear the 'Mech would detect it.

In the back of his mind he could hear his sibkin chiding him: Coward. Simple Technician. A Warrior would not hide under a tank waiting to die. A Warrior would have had a plan. You should have taken control of a tank, then you could fell this surat before he could get a shot off. If you had the drive to succeed you would already had your first kill. This is why you will fail.

Yet at the same time he felt another presence settle in quietly next to him. Something big and powerful, and above all else, patient. He could practically feel its breath on his cheek, and sensed the rumbling as it purred. He could have seen it if he turned his head just a few degrees, but he was frozen in place, watching the Conjurer's feet as the 'Mech scanned the area, hunting him.

Wait, a calm voice whispered in his mind, and he knew it was from the thing next to him. Watch and wait. It does not yet know that you are the hunter here.

The Badger shook on its suspension as the Conjurer took a step forwards. The BattleMech would be looming directly over the tank now, looking straight down as its sensors tried to look through the armor.

Rion jumped despite himself at the crack of an explosion nearby. The Conjurer turned in place, tracking something out in the darkness. The big 'Mech stood there silently for a moment, then it fired its medium pulse lasers, splitting the night with a fusillade of red bolts that flashed afterimages into Rion's eyes and left a crisp burning smell in the air. After a moment's pause the 'Mech followed up with a blast of missiles from its arm launcher, sending the projectiles streaking off to explode in the darkness. Rion imagined he could hear cries of pain somewhere off in the distance. And still, the quiet, strong presence next to him remained steady and calm. Wait, it repeated in his mind.

After another few seconds the Conjurer turned and left, picking up speed quickly as its powerful fusion reactor pushed it into motion. Rion finally took a breath, his vision blurring as oxygen got back into his lungs. As he gasped for air, he turned his head to look next to him…to see nothing there. He was alone in the darkness.

He rested his head on the ground for a few seconds, taking the time to catch his breath and give the Conjurer ample time to get away before he rolled out from under the Badger. He stood up, leaning on the tank for support while his head swam.

He looked back at the Badger and the Bandit. The tanks usually needed multiple crew to run, but each could be piloted by a single cadet, if that cadet was determined enough and able to reroute the weapon controls to a single terminal. They were sitting right here, open and ready. Going out into the jungle without them meant being exposed and left to the mercy of the BattleMechs hunting him, along with the more bloodthirsty of his sibkin. To say nothing of the other dangers that awaited him in the jungle: the explosion that had gotten the Conjurer's attention had been a land mine. There would doubtless be more booby traps out there. Surprises like that had been common in the training missions over the last year, cutting many cadets' lives short. Clearly the Keeper was giving them no relief from his constant "extra tests" for this Trial.

Rion knew this was his chance to move beyond all of that. The tanks looked to be in good condition, better than any of the equipment he'd had to train with. Surely one of these could secure a kill for him. Maybe not against the Conjurer, but against something lighter if he caught it off-guard. A vehicle pilot was still a Warrior. It would still be a success.

But it had not been tanks that had stood their ground against the other Clans. It was not a tank that made Rion's heart pound or his spirit sing. He stepped away from the Badger, looking back into the jungle and planning his next move.

When he saw the blinding light snap into existence in the distance and shining through the trees, he first wondered if this was another vision. As his eyes burned and he had to look away, he realized there was more to this than mysticism. He blinked and shook his head to clear it before looking back: a spotlight had illuminated part of the jungle.

He considered his options: the light was not moving, so it was not mounted to a BattleMech – probably. It was obviously drawing attention. A trap, perhaps? Or a signal? He thought, panicking for a second, that the Trial was already being called to an end. But that made no sense – bright though the spotlight was, it seemed too subtle a way to end so many cadets' chances at being Warriors. No, this was something he was meant to see, and be spurred to action. He made his way towards the light as quickly as he could.

Rion heard the sound of movement ahead of him as he got close to the light. He slowed down, crouching down and focusing on controlling his breathing. A nova cat was not the biggest or the strongest animal, but it was one of the cleverest. It used the environment to its advantage, staying out of sight of prey and predators alike as it stalked along, watching to see what it faced.

He peered through the branches and underbrush, looking out at the scene before him. There was another clearing, much larger than the one that had held the tanks. The source of the light was readily apparent – a massive spotlight on a tall pole, shining down to illuminate the clearing. Standing around the clearing were BattleMechs, three in all. The remaining five must have been deposited elsewhere for the cadets to find. The spotlight was a signal that the first cache of 'Mechs had been found. The light had drawn more than just Rion, as well; five other cadets were gathered in front of the 'Mechs, and were in the middle of determining who had the right to pilot them.

Rion looked up at the BattleMechs. A trueborn sibko could expect Clan mechs or at least refits for their Trials of Position. In contrast, these 'Mechs looked like they had been shipped to Clearfield straight from an Inner Sphere museum, with nothing but a cursory wash-down before being deployed. They did not even have Nova Cat markings on them; Rion could guess it was another reminder of the freeborns' place. Even so, the 'Mechs were beautiful in Rion's eyes. They held the promise of finally lifting himself up, of becoming something more than the child of Technicians.

He could see that the 'Mechs had similarly inspired awe and respect in the other five cadets that had arrived ahead of him. It would have been easy enough for them all to start a wild melee to determine who had the right to pilot. Instead, a pair of circles had been drawn on the ground, each one holding a pair of cadets fighting. Circles of Equals, the proper Clan way to determine the superior warrior.

Rion paused, forcing himself to think. The nova cat did not blindly attack, it chose its targets intelligently. It balanced the risk to itself versus the reward it wanted. He looked back up to the 'Mechs. The Hunchback on the end was an imposing machine, the heavy autocannon on its shoulder promising a quick victory to whoever got into its cockpit. On the other end was a Jenner, looking nimble but fragile. That 'Mech might stand a chance, so long as it could stay out of the Conjurer's sights long enough to get a few hits in.

Between the two 'Mechs was a battered-looking Phoenix Hawk, its armor sporting scars that had barely been patched over, and loose power lines dangling from its joints. The pair of Circles had been formed in front of the Jenner and the Hunchback, with the ramshackle Phoenix Hawk clearly waiting as a last choice for the cadets who could not prove themselves worthy of something that was actually in good repair.

Despite the rough equipment and the fierce competition he would face for it, Rion ultimately decided his best chance at success was here. Going back into the jungle to find another cache of 'Mechs meant staying vulnerable, not to mention risking running afoul of a trap, or even just running out of time. He mentally gathered himself and stepped out of the jungle, walking towards the Circles.

Each Circle held a pair of cadets fighting hand-to-hand. A fifth cadet lay motionless nearby. Rion saw quickly that the cadet's helmet was smashed, its faceplate shattered and a massive dent bashed into the back of it, ruining the delicate electronics inside. That cadet's Trial was over. Rion still counted him lucky; if he'd survived the blow that had smashed his helmet, he would at least be walking out of this jungle at the end of the Trial. From the sounds Rion had been hearing so far, many of their sibkin would not be so lucky.

Rion could guess at how the cadet's neurohelmet had been smashed; Ian had made it to the clearing ahead of him, and now stood in the Circle in front of the Hunchback. Ian's current opponent was barely staying out of his reach, delivering quick blows that seemed to just bounce off the big cadet's hard muscles.

The second Circle was finishing up by the time Rion arrived. One cadet managed to get the other in a headlock, tightening her muscles and cutting off blood to her opponent's brain. Her opponent fought back, thrashing on the ground and trying to throw her off, but she had latched onto him too strongly. Within seconds it was over and she stood up, leaving an unconscious cadet at her feet.

Rion recognized the victorious cadet as a young woman named Sasha. In contrast to Ian, she was slight and short, hinting at an aerospace pilot in her parentage. Rion knew better than to underestimate her, though. She was small, but light on her feet, with quick reflexes and a drive to win that would have made the Khan himself proud.

As Rion approached, Sasha turned to look up at him. Her eyes were hard and her breathing was heavy as she stood defiantly before him. Before Rion could say anything, Ian finished his own match, throwing his opponent out of the Circle and nearly wrenching the other cadet's arm out of its socket as he did so. The cadet plowed into the ground and lay there a few moments, moving sluggishly as he tried to recover from the beating he had just received.

Ian stood up to his full impressive height, smirking at Rion standing between the two Circles. "Quite a choice you face, Technician," he jeered. "Which of us will you fail to, then?"

Rion glanced at the 'Mechs, then the cadets in the Circles. He knew he did not have much time. He was sure his other sibkin would be closing in on the light, as would the enemy BattleMechs. To have waited this long to approach, the solahma must have been under orders to give the cadets a chance to board a 'Mech before they opened fire. Rion was sure the solahma's patience was limited, however. Steeling himself, he stepped towards Sasha, who lifted her chin defiantly.

Ian laughed at him. "A fitting choice," he said. "I shall wait for you at the end of this, Sasha. Perhaps you at least will be a Warrior along with me." He started climbing up the Hunchback, ready to take it into battle.

Sasha did not acknowledge him, instead keeping her attention on Rion as he stepped into her Circle.

"You choose the lighter 'Mech," she said, not as a question. "A better machine for a Nova Cat Warrior, quiaff?"

Rion just met her gaze. It was true, the Clan favored lighter, higher-mobility 'Mechs. Fast-moving machines let them mimic the nova cat's hunting behavior, striking and fading away, moving too quickly for a heavier 'Mech to keep up.

"I intend to keep you out of it," Rion said to her.

Sasha dropped into a combat stance. "Try it, then."

They faced off. Rion attacked first with a series of quick jabs, putting Sasha on the defensive. She dodged back and forth, slipping out of the way of his attacks and trying to get inside his guard. Rion kept a careful balance, keeping Sasha in range of his own strikes while staying out of her shorter reach. Then he changed it up, ducking low and kicking at her legs and forcing her to rapidly sidestep. He caught her off-guard again when he stood up rapidly, sending an uppercut towards her chin. She dodged – barely – by leaning back, but in so doing she lost her balance, forced to shift her weight to keep from falling.

He saw his opening. For a heartbeat her guard was open. One solid blow could shatter her faceplate, disqualifying her immediately. Or he could strike her throat, collapse her windpipe and leave her to choke to death. Instead, Rion grabbed her arm and turned in place, trying to throw her out of the Circle. He had barely managed to get a grip when Sasha twisted, leaning into the throw as she planted her feet and shifted her weight, using Rion's momentum against him. He went sprawling to the ground, his arm twisted around behind him as Sasha followed him down, burying her knees in his back. His world whited out with the pain as she twisted his arm, threatening to break it.

"I am victorious, quiaff?" Sasha's voice breathlessly said in his ear.

Rion coughed, struggling to catch his breath. "A…Aff," he whispered.

Sasha rolled off of him and stood up smoothly. Rion sighed internally. The nova cat was a solitary hunter. In the field there was no family or friends, only predator and prey. It was something the trueborn understood intrinsically by the time they reached their Trial of Position. Rion and his sibko had had to be taught that way of thinking. Some of them, like Ian, had embraced it completely, and were the embodiment of the great beast, victorious and claiming their rightful place. For his part, Rion remembered seeing his parents working alongside other Technicians, everyone working together as a team to achieve a greater success than any of them could have managed individually. At times like these he wished he could purge those memories from his mind.

He also wished he could forget the last year he had spent with his sibko. Once he had pulled Sasha out of an obstacle course laced with landmines. Another time she had snuck up on and disarmed a Keeper waiting on a ridge with a sniper rifle, saving the rest of them from a sneak attack during what was supposed to be a simple wilderness exercise. Given the chance to end Sasha's Trial and take victory for himself, he could only think of how he would not even be here if not for her. Just a freebirth, he could hear the Keeper's voice saying. Weak. A failure waiting to happen.

He stood up and stepped outside the Circle. He looked up at the Hunchback, its reactor slowly coming to life. Squaring his shoulders, Rion turned towards the ancient Phoenix Hawk waiting in the back.

"That one will take a Technician to even get running. A suitable machine for you, quiaff?" Sasha asked as he took his first step.

Rion tensed, looking back towards her with rage in his eyes. As he opened his mouth to speak, he felt something else: that strong, powerful presence next to him, the great cat that had lay beside him as he'd hid under the Badger.

The nova cat hunts alone, but it does not live alone, the presence whispered in his ear. It has its family. And it will protect them at all costs.

Rion took a breath, pushing down his anger at Sasha's jab. He looked at her more calmly. "Do not pilot that 'Mech," he warned her.

She raised her eyebrows at him skeptically. "You have lost our match, cadet Rion. Do not attempt to convince me otherwise."

"I attempt nothing. I am merely warning you against making a mistake." He turned away from her and headed for the Phoenix Hawk.

"Cadet Rion."

He looked over his shoulder to see Sasha jogging up to him. "Tell me what you know," she said more quietly. Rion merely met her gaze, remaining silent until she flinched. "Fine. I shall not challenge you for the right to pilot the Phoenix Hawk."

Not that you wanted it anyway, Rion thought to himself. Still, he nodded at her in mute acceptance of the offer. Sasha's parents came from the Merchant caste, and she was familiar with making deals.

He removed his helmet, gesturing for Sasha to do the same. He took in a breath of the hot, muggy air before leaning down to whisper into her ear. Sasha did not react beyond a slight widening of her eyes.

"How do you know this?" she asked.

"Did you think I talk to the Technicians out of weakness?" he asked innocently.

"Why, then? If you already knew…?"

"Because I did not want him to wonder why I went straight to the junk 'Mech," Rion answered, tilting his head at the Hunchback. And because now you owe me for warning you." A smirk touched his lips. "Bargained and done, Merchant Sasha."

Sasha scowled at the comment, but stepped back from him, crossing her arms over her chest as she pondered whether she had just gotten the short end of a deal.

They both looked up at the deep bass hum of the Hunchback's fusion reactor coming fully online. The fifty-ton machine shifted, ancient joints creaking as the 'Mech came to life. The ground shook under its first step.

"You all look very small down there," Ian's voice projected out the 'Mech's loudspeakers. "I shall enjoy watching you maintaining my machines after today."

His last opponent had regained consciousness and was back up, dodging between the Hunchback's feet as the 'Mech strode over them. He approached Rion and Sasha, pausing only to look over at the remaining two BattleMechs. Then he moved towards them.

Sasha quickly put her helmet back on. "Very well, I accept your challenge!" she declared, moving past Rion to approach the other cadet. "You desire the Jenner, quiaff? It is the only 'Mech here befitting a true Nova Cat warrior."

The other cadet paused, then nodded at her. "Aff," he said quietly.

Sasha gestured towards one of the Circles with a tilt of her head. Then she half-turned, looking back at Rion. "Best of luck in your piece of junk, Technician," she said to him. Her words were biting, but he saw a glint of approval in her eye.

Rion nodded at her. "I shall try, Merchant," he replied.

Turning away from them, he headed for the waiting Phoenix Hawk. There was no ladder to the cockpit; unsurprisingly, the freebirth pilots were expected to climb up the 'Mech's body, using the limited purchase from the grungy handholds built into the armor. The increased gravity promised to make the climb difficult, but it was nothing new to Rion. After taking a moment to regard the 'Mech and mentally brace himself, he put his helmet back on and began climbing.

Sasha and the other cadet fought while Rion climbed. By the time he'd made it to the cockpit the match was over, Sasha tripping up the other cadet as he tried to tackle her, leaving him stumbling outside the Circle. The cadet faceplanted in the dirt, getting back to his feet a moment later before looking back at Sasha and nodding at her once, acknowledging her victory. He looked up at Rion standing atop the Phoenix Hawk. Rion mutely pointed into the woods, back in the direction of the tanks he had seen. The cadet nodded at him, then disappeared into the jungle in the indicated direction.

For her part, Sasha also quietly looked up at Rion, holding his gaze for a moment. He thought he saw her lips move, but her words were swallowed by the sound of another explosion in the distance. Then she headed off into the jungle as well, leaving the Jenner behind.

Best of luck, Rion thought at her disappearing form. He looked down at the unconscious cadet that had been Sasha's first opponent, still lying insensate on the ground. He allowed himself a moment to wonder what the cadet would think when he woke up. Then he ducked into the Phoenix Hawk's cockpit and dropped into the command chair. He plugged his neurohelmet into the machine and began the start-up sequence. As another noise echoed out, he knew his time was limited. He smirked again as he recognized the loud cra-chunk of a heavy autocannon jamming mid-burst.

Rion had always appreciated the intelligence and forethought of the nova cat. The animal drew its name from a ring of poisonous quills around its neck, forming a "mane" of sorts that it popped out when threatened. The nova cat had evolved those quills as a defense against predators – when something larger and stronger tried to attack the nova cat, often the last thing they felt was felt the sting of the quills. The nova cat knew that appearing weak could trick those larger and stronger than itself into thinking it would be a quick kill, so they would lower their guard and leave themselves vulnerable. A nova cat knew exactly what its foes' weaknesses were.

Just as Rion knew which of the BattleMechs for the Trial had been booby-trapped.

*End Think Like a Cat*

Thanks for reading!

This story first appeared in Magistracy Monthly's April 2023 volume. Go check out Magistracy Monthly, it's a really good BattleTech fan zine: magestrixriley/posts

"Rion Standing Resolute" image is provided by Ghost: /ABYSSWVLKER

If you liked this story, check out my other work, including MechWarrior: Wild Rose, a long-form fanfiction novel about the scion of the Black Thorns: series/559158/mechwarrior-wild-rose/

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