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Wolfly Games
An ''In character'' story of a contest on Arc Royal
by Tempest |
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The Champion limped carefully through the narrow pass, tightly hugging the mountainous wall. The right leg sparked whenever it bent the knee, and the missile pod on the left side was little more than a burnt hole. Cautiously, it approached a Y in the pass, keeping its guns trained on the northward passage. As it came to the intersection proper, the mech swung it’s head around, looking down the other ‘arm’ of the Y.
In a careful crouch was a Phoenix Hawk, patiently aiming it’s large rifle at the surprised mech. There was a momentary pause, then the rifle fired. You could feel the Champion’s actuators groan, trying to keep the injured mech upright. Turning to fully face it’s opponent, the Champion fired it’s lasers, scoring small marks along the ‘Hawk’s right arm, which came up to shield it’s face.
The tall jump columns ignited, somersaulting the small mech over it’s opponent’s head. Cluster rounds bounced off of the rock walls, the Champion following the arcing jumper. It tired to turn with it’s opponent, but the narrow pass prevented it from making the maneuver at a run, forcing the 60 tonner to spin the other direction. On the downwards path of the jump, the Phoenix Hawk’s arm-mounted weapons came to life, catching the slower Champion in mid-turn, rapping it’s back. One of the missiles detonated, followed immediately by a larger secondary explosion. The blast tossed the mech several meters down the pass,crashing into the steep wall. What was left of the upper body crumpled with the impact, as the Phoenix Hawk touched down on the other side of the stone barrier. It shuddered momentarily, off-balance a little from missing weight. A little coolant fluid spat out of the torso-gash, almost in contempt for the landing.
“And that was the way action went for most of the day,” prattled the announcer. “Using the advantages of some very heavy terrain, the smaller, more maneuverable mechs ruled, using hit and run tactics to wear down larger opponents. This confrontation between unexpected contender Robert De Molay of the 33rd Avalon Hussars and Thomas Yuu of the 21st Centauri Lancers was the most spectacular of the endings, but no less impressive was the through destruction of Linda Donaldson of the Blue Star Irregulars by Muso Soseki of th” I flipped the vid off, and replaced the ice pack on my forehead. While the neural interface didn’t cause actual pain or damage the body, even in a simulated fight it sure made the body think it should be hurting.
Laura sat down on the bed next to me, and put a hand on my chest, right at the bottom of my ribcage, where ‘I’ had taken a large cannon slug in the sim. My mind, still thoroughly convinced I’d been shot there, had me wince. “Awww, poor boy hurting from his simulator?” Laura grinned widely. I could hear Zee and Walt laughing in the background.
“I’m fine. Just a little phantom pain.” Moving the ice pack away from my eyes, I gave Laura my old ‘I’m about to get into trouble’ look. “You know, a stiff drink would probably do me good right now.”
Amazingly, she perked up, rather than shooting me down like I’d thought. “That is a great idea! We have not had a good bar crash in years! Not since the Wings got blown up…” A slip of balled-up paper landed on my chest, managing to miss my ‘wound’.
Zee grinned widely as she came out of her pitching motion. “One of the younger Hounds gave me that address at the party last night. It’s a restaurant/bar that they hang out at a lot. It’s a pretty good place.”
She grinned widely. “They serve a wonderful chicken salad.” Not even hesitating, Laura yanked me out the door by one arm, just giving me enough time to yelp in pain. Faintly behind me, I heard Walt shout “PARTY IN THE CO’S ROOM!”, and Zee said something about my room service bill.
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“Hey, remember Kim Howard?”
She smiled. “I’ve tried to forget.” I quieted, but she continued on, smile widening. “Whoop whoop whoop whoop whoop!” She flapped her arms, like Kim had supposedly done on New Mendham. We both laughed hard, almost falling out of our chairs.
I managed to slowly regain control. Still laughing a little and wiping a tear from my eye, I heard her continue, “He bit it on Orkney, you know.”
Sobering up, I nodded. “I know. Did…”
Laura cut me off, shaking her head. “No. Howard, Claybourne, MacBird, Clement, Dworkow, even Farber and the techs. Abby actually took an old Wasp out, do you believe it? First and only time she ever actually fought in a mech.” There was a very silent moment. “Missile hit the cockpit. She helped buy some time, though, for the other techs to blow up the supplies that couldn’t be evacuated.”
We both sat there on the balcony, drinks in hand, for a few long minutes. Through the frosted glass doors, from the bar proper, there was the ruckus of one of the Snakes leading some other celebrants in a song.
The words were total gibberish, but the tune was happy, joyful, and obviously meant to be sung when one is incredibly drunk. I remember sitting in the ‘Seraphim’s Wings’, on Frazer, drinking and singing with Laura, Kim, Johnny-boy, Irv and the rest. They’d all been there when I came back from the Liao prison, cheering and welcoming me home. Irv bought it in ’39, John just a few months later. Really, only Laura and I were left. We’d all been lifers – the only friend that had retired alive was Monaldi, and that was because he’d lost both eyes and most of his left arm to a flamer hit. Last I’d heard of him, he was living at home, on Twycross, of all horrible places.
“So,” I ventured, climbing out of my hole of memories, “when we get out of here, what’re you planning to do with yourself? I’m fairly sure that you could still clean most guy’s chronometers, once we get you back in practice.”
Laura looked at me like I’d just said I was really the Crown Prince.
“Back in a mech? In the military again? In case you’ve forgotten…”
I cut her off. “Hey, they’ve kept me around, haven’t they? And you’ve always been better than I have. Remember my Capellan vacation? I was back in a mech within the month!”
“Robby, that was twenty five years ago. I’m fifty two, not twenty two, and you’re no hotshot Private anymore, either. As much as you like to deny it, we’re both too old for this.” She emphasized her point by lightly pushing my reading glasses up my nose with her index finger.
“I’m going to go back home and rest on my laurels. I think I’ve earned them. So have you.”
“There’s no way. Too many things for me to do, still. I..”
She cut me off this time, moving her finger down from my glasses and over my mouth. “Don’t try that old excuse about your ‘List Of Things To Do Before I Die’. How long is it now? You used to add something new every week.”
I gently took hold of her arm and moved her hand away from my lips.
“It’s shorter than it used to be. Getting you back took the number one thing off of it, you know.”
Laura laughed. “Quit trying to change the subject. You know I’m right.” I stood up, turned away from her, and looked out off the porch.
A car screeched, just barely stopping in front of a young couple trying to cross the street.
“It's too late, you know, Laura. I’ve used up my whole life.” She started to interrupt, but I didn’t let her. “I know you’ve heard this before, but I’m right. We always said, back in the day, that we were giving up our lives so that everybody else could live normally. Well, we’ve done that. As you so eloquently pointed out, we’ve both used up most of our lives – probably the best years. At this point, the way I see it, I may as well use what I’ve got left to keep some dumb kid like Zee from getting her head blown off. I’ve been doing it for long enough that I don’t think I should be anyplace else.”
“Your friend is more of the Clans than you are, bondsman.” Both Laura and I spun, twisting to look at the doors to the bar. Captain Tutuola was standing there, some brown drink in his hand. His cheeks were slightly reddish, so it probably wasn’t his first one. “I see why Star Colonel Marc Ward likes him. He speaks like a warrior.” He glared at me. “Accept that well, freebirth. Perhaps I shall honor you by claiming you as my isorla after the Trial.”
“Look, boiler-baby, I’ve had just about enough of you.” I got in close, jabbing my finger into his breastbone. “I came here to take my friend home, and I’m going to do just that. If I’ve got to beat you in thumb wrestling or sewing, I’ll do it. You’re taking me on in a mech, though, and the day some little puke like you is able to do more than scratch my paint is the day that I set off my reactor and dance naked in the radioactive slag.”
Tutuola grinned wolfishly. “Then you have no problem with a true Trial, quiaff? A simulated battle lacks glory. If you are so confident, face me in a real mech.”
We stared into each other’s eyes, not blinking. A little twitch developed in my craning neck. “I will litter the battlefield with your actuators, stravag.” He laughed and turned his back on me, returning to the bar. Right then and there, I could probably have hit him over the head with my glass and ended the whole mess. Laura slapped her hand down on my shoulder and spun me back to face her.
“What are you doing? I appreciate the nobility of it, but don’t you think this is going too far?” I grinned widely at my Laura.
“Nothing’s too much for you.”
She reflexively moved her head backwards slightly, physically expressing a moment of confusion. “You’re not going to try making a pass at me again, are you?”
I laughed. “No, not again. I don’t want to find my mech’s camouflage redone in hearts.” We both enjoyed a few moments, remembering that prank Laura and Abby had pulled on me after Irv and I had tried dating them. It was great camouflage, of course, but every blob had been shaped like a heart. I spent days returning my mech to it’s original condition, but Irv kept it that way. He never did get a date with Abby, but until his reactor blew, there wasn’t a better Shadow Hawk than ‘Loverboy’. “Don’t worry. I’m going to give that Clanner the beat-down he deserves. Out of curiosity, has he always been an asshole?”
Sgt. Maj. Robert De Molay |
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