Mechwarrior Dark Age - Hunters Of The Deep Part 5

aI see Beta Aimag has improved since our last meeting.a Jesupas voice exploded in the neurohelmet, dislodging Petras thoughts.

aAnd I see your sarcasm is improving as well.a aOf course, oh great ovKhan.a aRegardless of my distaste for Sha, they are Sea Fox Clansmen. Of course they would improve. It has been almost three years since our last chance to test our mettle against them, ofa"a aThere,a Jesup interrupted, as the arm of Torrinas Mad Cat III tore away under the horrific a.s.sault of twin hypersonic Gauss rounds from the Beta Sun Cobra. The fight ended immediately, the Beta warrior victorious.

Petr gripped his joysticks, infuriated by the loss.

aStravag.a aTorrin or the Beta MechWarrior? After all, the other warrior clearly held the upper hand.a aYou, Jesup.a As usual, Jesupas loud laughter actually managed to loosen the tight knots across his shoulders and neck, to cool his temper rather than boil it.

aCome now, oh magnificent ovKhan, surely Torrin will learn from this exercise. He will not be so quick to confront a superior foe next time without using the terrain to his advantage, quiaff?a aAff,a Petr managed to growl out. A smile even peeked out momentarily from the thundercloud of his face following another merry burst of Jesupas laughter.

How does he manage not to be killed by my own hand?

aIt would seem to be my turn,a Jesup said casually.

Petr once more gripped the joysticks, wanting, needing to take his place.

aSeize the day, Jesup.a aAff, ovKhan,a the response came back, for a wonder free of its usual embellishments.

The Thor next to Petras Tiburon lumbered forward and quickly picked up momentum; it could not match his aMech for mobility, but considering its seventy tons, Jesupas Thor held respectable speed.

Almost a kilometer and a half distant, a Beta Warhammer IIC began to make its way forward. Though Jesupas opponent was considerably outside his weapon range, Petr couldnat help but bring up the targeting reticule on the forward screen; centering on the enemy, he zoomed in, waiting, hoping for it to flash the golden tone of a lock. After a moment, he pulled the reticule off target, lifted away his hand. Jesup would claim this victory, not him.

His would be waiting, as he knew it would from the beginning, against Sha Clarke.

Strange.

The difference between watching combat and finding yourself in the thick of it was like reading about an interstellar jump and experiencing the heart-stopping, wrenching reality of having the fabric of your existence torn asunder, then to be pummeled and prodded until you reappeared light-years distant. The two could not compare.

For Petr, combat consisted of a series of time dilations that spun down and back in jerking scenes that could be disorienting, to say the least. Fifteen minutes could pa.s.s between one eyeblink and another.

Now, as he watched the fight between Jesup and his Beta opponent unfold in the distance, the time dilation gyrated in the opposite direction, the minutes elongating until each second felt like a lifeas age, each minute a living, breathing epoch, ready to devour him with his own impatience. His own need to fight.

Two cerulean beams of man-made lightning cut only swaths of air, as Jesup used the Thoras superior mobility to keep just a microsecond ahead of the Betaas gross firepower. Even while jumping, Jesup managed to land several laser shots and half a barrage of missiles into the lower flanks of the Warhammer, burning and blasting away armor.

A game of armor and firepower versus mobility. A game requiring the utmost from a warrior. A game he desperately hoped Jesup would win, tipping the balance of wins and losses firmly into Deltaas camp.

A game he did not believe Jesup could finish.

Another flurry of fire drew his eye once more. Azures, crimsons and flickering oranges filled the sky as the battle unfolded. Another leap with its jump jets launched the Thor across a rocky ravine, dropping it down desperately close to the Warhammer, but on its flank, where it would take precious seconds for the Beta aMech to turn in order to bring both PPCs to bear. The Thor unleashed everything at its disposal. Terrible energies washed over the Warhammer, stripping armor and shaking the behemoth as though it still stood in the storm only recently petered out.

Though he appreciated the gutsy move, Petr winced at the oven he knew the Thoras c.o.c.kpit became with such weapons fire.

Jump. Petr leaned forward. Jump. Tried to will it. aJump,a he said out loud.

Whether because, in his arrogance, he believed he had sufficiently damaged the Warhammer, or a momentas hesitation brought on by the crippling heat, the reason did not matter; the Warhammer made the torso twist in almost superhuman time and unleashed cobalt fury before the Thor could escape. Both PPCsa cascading energy converged on the already damaged right leg.

Armor sublimated, liquefied, ran in sluggish rivulets, bared the internal structure to the sun-hot energies that destroyed the right leg bone with equal ease: the upper leg simply ceased to be. For a moment the Thor stooda"a tree that had lost its battle against the logger but for a moment refused to yield, desperate and ashamed to give in to gravity.

Petr imaged he could feel the impact of it slamming into the ground even at this distance.

Petras fists slowly tightened until tendons creaked and the blood pounded in his forehead like the thundering of the Tiburonas feet sprinting across the tundra. Now it would be up to him to tie. An overall win was no longer possible.

Pushing at the rage, unclenching his fists, he slowly brought it back under control. As any good Sea Fox merchant could tell you, at times a win was not possible. In such circ.u.mstances, a tie would have to do.

And since defeating Sha would be a win in Petras book, it would more than do.

13.

Tumbled Heights, Near Halifax Vanderfox, Adhafera Prefecture VII, The Republic 14 July 3134 aWhat other outcome did you expect?a Sha said, his voice a winter breeze wafting through the desert wastes of Petras heated c.o.c.kpit.

aCome now, ovKhan, we both know where this will lead. Accept it. Give in to the inevitable.a The almost imperceptible whiff of blood he previously smelled now screamed in his nostrils as a river of life streamed slowly down his right biceps from the shoulder wound. Petr hunched forward, trying to rest his right elbow firmly on the command couch armrest. He still needed to manipulate the joystick, but wanted to take as much weight off the shoulder as possible. Eddies of waste heat caressed the hairs on his legs and arms, while sweat drenched him, mingling with his blood, quickening its flow, hastening his eventual death.

Using the foot pedals, he hunkered down a little more in the ravine, hoping the stone contained enough trace metals to throw off Shaas magscan; the humidity might, might, soak up enough heat to fool a thermal scan as wella provided Sha didnat simply stumble upon his hiding spot.

aPetr,a that seductive voice crooned, using his first name for the first time, awhy delay? Let us end these Rituals of Combat and we shall both view the final few pairings of the Trial of Bloodright; watch as my Beta warrior takes the Bloodname. A fitting capstone to Beta seizing the Rituals of Combat.a Petr would not be roused by Shaas barbed words. After all, that was what got him into this mess.

Though high in humidity, the day held the quality of emerging from a long darkness into the promise of a new tomorrow. Today spheroids would be out in droves, cleaning their cars and lawns, running errands, visiting friends, making quick plans for picnics and barbecues. The sun danced merry light across lush grounda"verdant fields that spoke of a need to be happy, to enjoy the day and all its unspoken promises.

aI know the promise I need fulfilled today,a Petr spoke softly, as he brought his Tiburon up to a full sprint of almost 120 kilometers an hour. The pounding rhythm of the run felt like the drumming beat of a Marik Jazzilues band he heard the last time they made a port of call, brought a smile to his face, as he began moving at an oblique angle to Shaas oncoming Sphinx.

He tapped through several maps to bring up the best topographical of the area, locked his threat a.s.sessment screen onto Shaas aMech. Unlike most of the aMechs partic.i.p.ating this day, both the Sphinx and his own Tiburon mounted mediuma" to short-range weaponry. As such, they would close to a ridiculously short distance before targeting could be sure and true.

aSo, ovKhan Petr, have you come to settle for a tie for Delta Aimag?a The calm of Shaas voice emerged in his neurohelmet. The heat in his chest mimicked the burning within the heart of his Tiburon.

aWhy should I settle for a mere tie, Sha, when I can win?a aAnd how, ovKhan, can that occur? Have you created a new math to go with your recklessness?a Petr laughed, drenching the airwaves with sarcasm.

The aMechs closed rapidly. Though considerably slower than his own ride, Shaas Sphinx still held respectable speed. It also mounted ma.s.sive armor, weighed twice as much as his Tiburon and mounted a mind-numbing ten extended-range medium lasers. Of course, that very firepower could be its undoing. It could fire only a fraction of them without overheating; firing them all would generate heat no number of heat sinks could dissipate safely, triggering an automatic shutdowna"and Petr would hold the surat by the short hairs.

It would come down to superior skill; though the Tiburon carried a far superior targeting computer, they both mounted weapons of the same range. Though each warrior angled for terrain, they would let fly their armaments at the same moments. The better hair-trigger finger, the better hand-eye coordination to line up a shot against such rapidly moving targets, would score first.

At the last possible moment, Petr planted the Tiburonas left foot on what he prayed would be firm ground. Stomped down on the left pedal and literally leaned to the left, the whine of the gyro mounted below his feet screaming to a crescendo that sunk into his lower jawbone jointa"a painful, sympathetic vibration almost chattering his teeth as the aMech wrenched to the left in an amazing display of piloting skill.

At the same moment, his right hand guided the targeting reticule onto the Sphinx. It flashed a golden hue and the soft chime of lock rang in his ear; his index finger caressed the trigger, setting off his primary targeting interlock circuit.

A perceptual time dilation washed around him. Petr could practically feel the workings of his aMech. Almost became the energy surging through wiring toward the quartet of medium lasers waiting with barely concealed energy to savage a foe of his choosing; became the fusion reactor spiking its power output to compensate for the drain; became the targeting computer as it ran algorithms, plotting numerous solutions, choosing one and unleashing coherent beams of air-shattering strength; became bundles of photons as they slashed into the onrushing Sphinx like giant sun swords, carving off almost two tons of armor like a kitchen vibroblade cleaves off meat from a turkey at Sunday dinner.

Reality returned in a rush of victory; the return a.s.sault missed completely, sending up multiple sprays of explosive steam as puddles and damp earth flash-heated under the onslaught.

Petr hunched the Tiburon slightly and continued the almost breakneck zigzagging; he made his way toward a small copse. He finally responded.

aI will win, Sha, because I will beat you.a His previous luxurious feeling peaked to a climax as his skills became one with his aMech. Repeated countera.s.sault slashes of superheated photons failed to even stroke a touch across armor, much less do real damage.

The small copse covered no more than an eighth of a kilometer on any one side, but it provided plenty of breathing s.p.a.ce; that last volley came a little too close. Just like Jesup before him (even more so), one good slap from the Sphinx and all of his previous pinp.r.i.c.ks against Sha would be for naught.

aHow like you,a Sha said. Petr hesitated, slowed slightly, struck by the timbre of Shaas voice. Though computer reproduced, the voice managed to retain a quality of awhat? Sadness? Regret? Suddenly he understood, and his rage seared his insides as though his aMech were overheating. Pity. Sha pitied him? Him!

Without conscious thought, Petr manipulated the foot pedals and angled the Tiburon back around in a arcing sweep, building his speed back up, bringing him back toward Sha.

That Sha would pity him!

aAh, come back to play, I see,a Sha said in his infuriatingly cool voice; he unleashed a s.e.xtet of lasers as the Tiburon cleared the copse, half of which ripped into the aMechas legs like a beast with winteras hunger savaging its first victim of spring. The damage schematic lit up across the bottom of the displaya"angry red smears that spoke of imminent black.

aStravag,a Petr cursed, riding the storm of damage as armor cascaded off his aMech, using the neurohelmet and its feedback keyed to the gyro to keep the Tiburon on its feet. Sha goaded him into it.

He closed with the copse and then played me like an instrument. Try as he might, his rage only builta"at himself, at the situation.

aYou see,a Sha continued, as he alternated salvos, filling the air with slicing beams of death; beams Petr barely managed to avoida most of the time, athat is why you will ultimately fail. Yes, you have your successes. Great successes, I will give you that. However, you think only of yourself. You believe you act in the best interests of your Aimag, but you are mistaken. You act in your own interests. I could not goad you to such rash actions if you thought of the honor your Aimag will lose this day because of your defeat. A tie would have been sufficient honor for both Aimags, but you think only of yourself. That is why you will ultimately be brought down. Any Sea Fox warrior who shows such selfishness will ultimately, must ultimately be brought down.a Petr gritted his teeth as another beam carved a furrow of dripping metal across his aMechas torso; she hurt. The strangeness of the conversation almost made the battle surreal: the calm, counseling tone of Sha at odds with the metal-shattering destructive forces being unleashed.

aYou know nothing of me, Sha. I have always put my Aimag first.a Petr grunted as two of his corks.c.r.e.w.i.n.g short-range missiles splashed into the Sphinx.

aBut I do know you, ovKhan. Are we not taught to know our enemies as ourselves? No matter the battlefield, knowledge of oneas enemy is essential, or else how can you defeat him?a aAm I your enemy?a aOf course. Are we not fighting? Well, at least one of us is fighting. I am not exactly sure what you are doing.a It shouldnat have, but the goading drove Petr over the edge. To have pity from this surat ; to be insulted when Petr clearly displayed superior skills; to be called selfish by an ovKhan who rumor held disciplined for the slightest infractions; to be lectured about honor; to have been goaded into the open in the first placea"Petr knew it for a goad as well, but could not stop it.

He blanked out.

Hitching his shoulder against the ache, Petr shook his head, felt like he was coming out of a drug-induced haze. Shaas voice continued to drone in his ears, a beehive just outside the c.o.c.kpit.

aCome, Petr, I am sure it can be marked down as an error. A malfunction. My Aimag will not mention it. I am confident yours will not either,a Sha said.

Mention what? He glanced at the damage schematic and his anger kindled once more; in addition to all the other damage, the Tiburonas right arm no longer existed. A vague memory surfaced of blasting away the Sphinxas left arm.

aMy error?a Petr croaked out, his tongue swollen and dry as sun-bleached coral. aYou are the one who violated the training protocols. I destroyed your Sphinxas arm. I claim victory.a A soft pause. aHave you been so wounded, Petr? You obviously need medical attention. I destroyed your arm and you would not relent, destroying mine before I could damage you enough to force you away.a The words came like a sonic echo of eventsa"a blurring effect as they conjured an image that didnat ring true to Petras own memory.

But it was all so hazy. So hazy.

aThat cannot be true, Sha.a aOf course it can. Accept it.a Petr glanced at his own radar and magscan, couldnat see a thing; were they damaged or had he found an effective hiding spot?

aYou are fond of that phrase.a aYes. Accept. Admit. Inevitable. Inexorable. We are Clan warriors. For us such words come naturally, quiaff? The Inner Sphere must accept we are superior. We must accept that responsibility, just as inexorable death must be accepted. Life is full of such absolutes. Today has such absolutes and no amount of skill can upset them.a aYou talk too much, Sha.a aIs that the best you can do, Petr? After all I have heard about and from you, that is the best you can do? This is the best you can do?a aI may have made an error before, but you will not goad me again, surat. Come find me and I will show you my best.a aI already have seen your best, ovKhan Kalasa, and I find it terribly lacking.a A metal grim reaper rising from the bowels of h.e.l.l blocked out the sun; the Sphinx topped the rise above Petras hiding place.

Petr immediately tried to swivel the remaining arm to bring lasers to bear.

aTerribly lacking indeed,a Sha said as he unleashed the full fury of his aMech.

Seven lances of coherent light shafted into the Tiburon, boiling away the remaining armor, stabbing deep to destroy innumerable internal systems. One beam flayed the already damaged head; terrible, horrifying heat cascaded across Petras skin, filling his nostrils with the stench of burning hair and flesh.

I knew I would die with hera

14.

Beta Aimag Encampment, Halifax Vanderfox, Adhafera Prefecture VII, The Republic 15 July 3134 The old woman sprawled; her jumble of worn and mismatched treasures heaped around her kept people at bay as much as the filth and stench (especially the stench!). She was covered in a colorless dress that mightave been the height of fashion a half century ago; its numerous rips and tears gave anyone peering too close brief flashes of rash-covered skin, itself almost unrecognizable under the glaze of caked dirt and old sweat. For those who looked a little too close, the veritable army of fleas that marched apparently unnoticed across this flesh turned away the most discerning eyes in horror. A giant hata"its ribbons, bows and single feather long since faded and droopinga"sat astride her head, a once-proud crest that showed the inexorable march of long decades; it hid her features well in the double shadows of the brim and the parasail (sporting more holes than the dress) propped against an ancient dowry chest and a meaty thigh. The slight rocking and disharmonious singing only increased the size of her personal s.p.a.ce; a aMech would have had a hard time penetrating the defenses she set up two days after Beta Aimag made landfall.

The security personnel of Beta Aimag a.s.sumed the hag to be a permanent fixture of Halifax. After all, she stayed through torrential rains, precipitous cold and brief flashes of wan sunlight. Of course, if they had bothered to ask any local, they would have had that impression quickly corrected. Then again, she expected such Clan arrogance, planned on it.

Shifting beneath the rags she had poached from a burned-out residence some kilometers from Halifax (along with much of the garbage she guarded so jealously), Snow surrept.i.tiously sank her right hand down to scratch at a rash a little too high on her inner thigh; she winced at the idea of it getting much higher.

aThis better net me something, or someoneas going to pay,a Snow murmured The Sea Fox guards standing some fifteen paces away had quickly grown accustomed to such inaudible mumblings amid the jarring attempts at singing; her mother had told her in no uncertain terms her singing voice could wake the dead and kill them anew. She chuckled (random hilarity when none but you are laughing worked miracles in convincing people youare insane) at how she currently put such voice talent to use.

She gritted her teeth and cackled once more; she could practically feel a new series of bite marks as fleas nibbled flesh. aAnd Iave got plenty to spare, no doubt about it.a She hitched her right shoulder, feeling only a slight echo of its usual pain. Hardly turning her head, her eyes roved relentlessly, searching every cranny, examining every event. More important, it allowed her to read the lips of almost anyone in her line of sight, including the Sea Fox guards. And boy, oh boy, were they talkative: no bowl-you-over-this-is-it statement, but enough to keep her there and allowing the insects to snack.

Hadnat expected such loose lips from Clannersa"then again, these were Foxes, half-Clanners at best.

Just then a giant of a man trundled around the far corner of the largest semipermanent tent in the compound, made his way toward the two guards. Admiring the mound of muscles and the almost liquid way they swam beneath the one-piece uniform, her eyes dipped low. Wonder if itas all proportionate. aCourse she always wondered (as did most Inner Sphere women, she was confident) but had yet to test that theory. Perhaps this time around. She cackled wildly.

As the fleshy, aMech-sized man drew closer, he hailed the waiting men; she pulled a mound of moldy clothing close and shifted as she always did with a change of the guards (better to see lips moving).

aaDay, Kota, Sari,a the bear of a man said; even at this distance, she could almost feel the timbre of his deep voice vibrate through her; she smiled deliciously.

Yes, he just might do.

The other two turned toward the elemental, their words lost to distance and angle.

aAcceptable.a He laughed loudly, as though enjoying the brief sunshine. aThough I believe I am ready to depart this gravity well.a Sari turned back around, glancing this way and that, but Kotaas response remained hidden.

The giant laughed. aIf you feel that way, then let us draw a circle and see who is lazy and who is not. I simply prefer the beauty of weightlessness, as do most who have been a.s.signed downside, I would wager.a A pause as the elemental drew next to them, clasped quick hands and stood companionable. He continued after another hidden response. aYes, the Rituals of Combat do make up for everything else, especially after besting Delta Aimag. That is worth a gravity and a half pressing my frame.a That laugh. Did he always laugh like that? Always bear a smile that revealed enough white to blind her even at this distance?

Kota finally turned to an angle she could read.

aDo you hate them?a aWho, Delta Aimag? Why in the world would I hate them?a Kota shrugged, c.o.c.ked his head, while his eyes still tracked their circuit. Though she gave them kudos for paying constant attention when the residents of this p.i.s.s-poor backwater world would wet themselves before actually doing something against the Clanners, she noticed his eyes never once acknowledged her. His downfall.

aI do not know, Corinaa"so that was his name; nicea"ajust a feeling I get now and then from our Aimag.a aThat is called compet.i.tion. It is healthy. They defeated us last time and we return the favor this time around. No, though the compet.i.tion might be fierce, especially between our ovKhansaa"all three chuckleda"athey are still a part of Spina Khanate. They are family.a aPerhaps the feeling, then, is not for Delta Aimag, but for another Aimag outside our Khanate. Or another Khanate.a A semiserious looked twisted Corinas face into an ugly semblance of its normal joviality; she liked him better smiling. And laughing.

aHave you drunk too many fusionnaires so early?a aCome on, Corin. It is an open secret that ovKhan Clarke has questioned why Spina Khanate continually reaps the greatest honors and glory, then meekly hands them off to other Khanates. To the ilKhanate.a Corinas shrug wouldave lifted Snow right out of her current bundle of clothing; he wouldnat have noticed.

aAgain, healthy compet.i.tion. Come, we are Clan Sea Fox. We have known for centuries words can be more dangerous than a Star of aMechs. ovKhan Clarke is simply pushing for advantages.a Snow cackled to keep from growling, bit at her fingernails (slime, sc.u.m and all, she gnawed at them right there); the b.a.s.t.a.r.d Kota turned away. Corinas reaction told her she needed to know what Kota just said. Needed to know yesterday.

For just a moment (she couldnat tell for sure, but felt confident Kota missed it), the killeras look tweaked Corinas features: a slight flattening of the brow; a hardening of the eyes; thinning of lips; smoothing of muscles along the throata"for an instant Corin debated whether to kill the soldiers. And just as quickly discarded the idea: too messy, too public.

An eyeblink later his features settled into their accustomed expression of levity and he laughed long and hard, perhaps a little too long. He finally straightened himself. aThat is truly humorous. Have you been taking lessons from Jina? You do not honestly believe that, do you? Especially with the Jade Falcons?a What about the Jade Falcons? Snow almost asked the question out loud in her frustration.

Kota shrugged, slowly shook his head, turned to look at Sari, but found no support there; shead been ignoring the conversation.

Corin slapped Kota sharply on the back. Another guffaw. aYou are off duty. Go finish that fusionnaire you obviously sipped earlier. Relax. Remember it is all fun and friendly compet.i.tion. Forget such rumors.a Another shrug and a handshake, and Kota moved away, though he glanced over his shoulder four separate times before he was out of sight. Corin stood and gazed forward, his comrades apparently forgotten; but the set of his shoulders, the placement of his feet: she recognized from her own a.s.sa.s.sin training that this went beyond a soldier ready to kill for a mission. Kota would be relieved of his life all too soon.

Over what? Snow resettled herself (almost hissed; the rash had indeed gotten higher), slowly began to sing, swayed. She knew all about their Rituals of Combat, but she also felt a strange vibe between these two Aimags during the last several days, a mood she couldnat put her finger on. Not to mention the Clans were known for their waste-not-want-not mentality, especially the tightfisted, advantage-conscious Sea Fox; she couldnat remember the last time she heard of a Clanner a.s.sa.s.sinating another. Talk about dishonorable. She chuckled despite herself. When would these Clanners realize honor didnat mean spit when it came to a blade in the dark?

She stopped abruptly, as she remembered the last part of the conversation. How in the world did the Jade Falcons fit in? Were they a factor? Or could she concentrate on maneuvering the Fox Clansmen into interfering with the Marik invasion?

Her eyes slowly tracked through a rent in the hatas brim, rested on the hulking flesh of a man.