|
|
I, Kerensky
by Roguebaron |
|
Starport, Engadine,
Melissa Theater, Lyran Alliance,
May 4, 3058
The abandoned airfield was located about five kilometers outside Starport. There were 3 runways and numerous helicopter pads, and a small traffic-control tower. Medium-sized hangars scattered on the western part of the airfield, and some rusty trucks lied idly in front of them. Judging by the height of bushes that covered half of the runways and helicopter pads, I knew that nobody visited the airfield for a long time. It was a perfect place to hide.
I stood about 1.5 kilometers outside the airfield, wondering if I should do this in the first place. I meant, should I risk myself to save a Spheroid? If I were truly a Clan mechwarrior, a Kerensky no less, then I would have been superior than anybody in Engadine. I could have shared the same genome with Natasha Kerensky, the greatest mechwarrior ever lived. I could have been next in line to lead Wolf Clan to glory. I could even have been a Wolf Khan myself. Should I just go back to where I belonged? What was I doing here in an abandoned airfield?
Yes, this was a stupid idea. This could be a trap. Evee, the one that I was trying to help, could have been a player. So could Megi, Fercyn, Cedro, Trejo, and anybody else in Hogye. Where else they knew that there was a big mech near Hogye? It might have never been a secret. They made it a secret because I was the only one that had access to run it. My voice. They set up this atmosphere to coerce me to take the mech out.
But if it was otherwise, if Evee died because I abandoned her, I knew I would never forgive myself. I had a chance to do something and I did not do it. I did not know how I could live myself. Hence, I decided to stay.
Once again, I checked my weapons. My twin large lasers would provide enough long-range battery before I could close in for my power punch. Had the other LBX-20 been operational, I would have had a vile firepower within 300 meters, and I knew I could take on anything. But one LBX-20 would provide more than enough punch for most heavy mechs. I still did not know what kind of mech I was riding, but with this much firepower, I could care less.
I pushed the reactor forward, and my mech started to trundle. It still creaked and squeaked with every step, but the limping had diminished, replaced by a smooth gait. As it ran, I tried to remember if I had ever been here. I had to, since the computer recognized my voice. But even my best effort could not retrieve any memory. I was completely lost.
As I entered the airfield area, a lance of Savannah Master emerged from a hangar, followed by another lance of Harassers. They boxed me, but kept their distance. Two Drillsons and a mobile HQ rolled from behind another hangar, and they stopped about 500 meters in front of me.
“Exit your mech or you’ll never see her alive again,” somebody called out from the comlink.
I measured my odds. If things went bad, I could destroy both Drillsons in an alpha strike and stomp on the Savannah Masters and Harassers, assuming my mech could endure some hits. There were no sign of mechs within 1-kilometer radius. But they could be hiding. I did not know these guys, so I could not underestimate their level of technology.
“No! Show me that she is still alive, or I will end everything right here, right now!” I rebuffed, lining up my guns at the Drillsons. I had to show them that I was interested in Evee’s life, but I had to show them that I held equal firepower. Only then I could make the most of this negotiation.
There was a long lull afterwards, then the door of the mobile HQ sprang open. Two men with guns heaved a woman out of the vehicle. I zoomed in to the vehicle, and yes, it was Evee. She was tired. She probably did not sleep during this entire ordeal. Her arms were tied behind her back. But swollen her eyes blasted open when she saw my mech, a real treat in my part.
“Satisfied? Now exit your mech, or I’ll have her brain scattered in the runway!”
I knew that they were serious. I decided to yield, although I would make myself vulnerable. I climbed down the mech, and the vehicles closed in on me, guns hot at my midst. About a dozen men dismounted the vehicles, mumbling among themselves while looking up at my mech. Only three of them focused on me, aiming their guns at my head.
“Buenos noche, puto!” a much-too-familiar voice greeted me. I turned around, and there he was, standing by Evee’s side, wrenching her hair in a rude manner. “So it is true, huh? All this time, when you’re acting like a complete idiot…”
“I swore Megi that I would never tell anybody,” I fumed. “How did you know? Did Fercyn tell you?”
“Fercyn? Fercyn una maricon!” Trejo chortled curtly. “He’s too caught up riding his Commando to notice a Gladiator in front of his eyes! I am the smart one. I always know that you’re not from Engadine. You’re not from the Inner Sphere! You’re a filthy, hijo de puta Clanner!”
Gladiator. So that was how my mech was called. Gladiator.
“Who are these people?” I queried.
“Have you heard about the Bone Devils? They’re a well-known pirate band from outside the Periphery. There’s this rumor: when Phelan Kell arrived at Arc Royal with a third of Wolf’s army, he lost a number of ships. Some of his warriors went AWOL. Cansado de hacer puñetas, don’t you? Wanna screw real women like us Spheroids? But you think we’re so stupid that you can fool us. You and your conceited pride always think that we are inferior! Guess what, guevon! Your pride has become the death of you!”
Again, I was left dumbfounded. Pieces of information about my past kept barging into my head at the worst time possible. Now I was an AWOL soldier, a part of Wolf’s Delta Galaxy that jumped to Arc Royal under the leadership of Phelan Kell. Of course, Trejo did mention ‘rumor’, but more than often a rumor held some truth. If that was a fact, why did I leave my touman and come to Engadine? This act was certainly a dezgra in Clan culture, whatever the reason was. Was I dezgra?
“If you want my Gladiator, then take it,” I said, able to name my mech for the first time. “Let Evee go.”
“Ha ha, they want the Gladiator,” Trejo guffawed and drew his gun. “I only want you. Cagare en usted y banquetearé en la concha tu puta! Hope you enjoyed your stay at Engadine!”
Although I did not know what he said, I knew what his intention was. With the nozzle of his gun lined up with my forehead, I did not need to decipher his Spanish. He would kill me and Evee, or worse, kill me and desecrate or torture Evee. I did not fear death, but I feared for her safety. I did not have much time. Trejo’s finger had started squeezing the trigger when I noticed the greedy stares of the pirates when they gazed upon the Gladiator. They gave me an idea. It was a very slim chance with a very great risk, but I had to take it.
The enemy of my enemy was my ally.
“Kill me, and you will lose the opportunity of fortune that you had never imagine,” I intentionally cranked up my voice, hoping the pirates would hear me. “My dropship landed only several kilometers outside Hogye. Nobody knows its exact position, only me. There are four stars of Clan mechs inside the dropship. I am willing to take you to the location in exchange of Evee’s life.”
“Nice bargaining, Parker, but I’m not interested in Clan mechs,” he drew a deep breath, then came back to me with hatred pouring out of his eyes. “I made more money selling mech parts than selling mechs. So you can kiss your offer goodbye and…”
Trejo never had a chance to finish his sentence. A loud bang stopped him, and half of his head disintegrated into smithereens. What was left of his head flailed aimlessly, splattering blood to Evee’s face. He teetered for a moment before slumping to the ground. His hands were still twitching when another man, obviously a pirate, came and blasted the remaining part of his head with his massive gyrojet pistol.
I gazed upon the lifeless body of Trejo, and wondered what I had done that incited his total abhorrence at me. Perhaps he had a bitter encounter with other Clanner in the past, and it carved a perpetual wound in his mind. Perhaps I cut the source of his income by driving the CAMR away from Hogye. He did mention that he made a lot of money from selling mech parts, and his primary customer should be the Hunt Lance. Or perhaps he just hated me. I would never know.
“Stupid scumbag! Who doesn’t want Clan mechs these days?” the man mumbled, blowing smoke from his pistol, then shoved the big-barreled gun at my head. “Now let me repeat what you told Trejo a minute ago. There are more mechs… Clan mechs… lying idle in the wood near Hogye. And they’re ours, if we just let your partner go. Is that correct?”
This was a different scheme, and I could not use the same strategy that worked nicely with Trejo. Trejo was driven by hatred, while these pirates craved nothing but wealth. Greed oozed from their eyes as they looked at me. However, he was careful. I knew I could end up like Trejo if he did not like my answer. I had to come up with a very good reason why I, a Clanner, was acting way beyond a Clan’s stereotype. I took a deep breath, buying some precious seconds, then gave me my response, “Yes. Let her go, and I will take you to the mechs.”
The pirate looked at me, weighing my answer, then at Evee. I could tell he was drooling over my offer, but something still bothered him. “Clanners don’t negotiate. Why are you doing this? What do you want in return? How do I know that this is not a setup?”
“I want nothing from you,” I fibbed with confidence. “She saved my life, and I am simply paying my debt. If you do not know already, we Clanners regard honor above our lives. If you still doubt me,” I paused, “I will give this mech to you right now. I know how to reset the voice-recognition system. Then you can let her go, and I will take you to the rest of the mechs.”
I could not believe what I just said. I, a Kerensky, a Wolf Clan warrior, had just told a lie. I told him that Clanner always told the truth, but at the same time I lied about it. I felt disgraced. Maybe it was the reason why I left the Delta Galaxy. Or worse, I did not leave, but was merely banished. I was always a dezgra.
However, the pirate totally bought my lie. He smirked and nodded, and the aura of doubt was lifted off his face. He barked orders to his comrades, then said, “Fool me, and I’ll blow your head off, just like your friend!”
A minute later, some pirates came with a portable elevator. The pirate shoved me into the elevator – with his gun still in my head – and brought the elevator up. When the chamber was leveled with the cockpit, I climbed out and opened the hatch. I waited for him to enter the cockpit. He sat on the couch, chuckling in satisfaction as he gripped the joystick.
I bent down and picked up one of Cedro’s screwdrivers that were scattered on the floor. “Now I will open the panel to reset the voice-recognition system. In a minute you will need to input your voice over the microphone so the computer will use it as password.”
“Just tell me when it’s done,” he huffed, still playing with the joystick. I crawled under the dashboard and acted as if I was scuffling with the electronics. But actually, I did nothing. The pirate was too caught up to notice it. I let him sink in his ego and continued my “work” under the console, while planning a crippling strike. After a while, I got up, started the mech, and waited until the computer asked me to state my name, rank, and serial number.
“Speak onto the mike and the computer will record your voice,” I nodded.
He stretched his neck to get close to the microphone. That was when I delivered my blow. I jammed my screwdriver into his neck, just below his chin. His eyes widened, his mouth gaped, but since I ripped his vocal cord, only hoarse wheeze slipped out of his mouth. He grabbed his gun, but I shoved my screwdriver in as hard as I could, until the tip burst from the back of his neck. His gun clattered on the floor as his arm flailed in the air before grabbing my hand.
I pushed him off the command chair, then snatched the gyrojet pistol from the floor. In the meantime the pirate got a solid grip on the screwdriver, then pulled it out of his neck. Blood and water gushed out of his wound, and he writhed on the floor. I closed the hatch, cocked the gun, and pulled the trigger, ending his misery. The mini rocket ripped his ribcage and exploded inside his midst, spreading gristle all over the cockpit.
I leaned on the wall, gasping for air. The cockpit was about twice as spacious as the Trebuchet’s, but it was still cramped with two men inside. It was hot, humid, and reeked death. I claimed the command seat, swiped the console that was covered with blood, then spoke into the microphone to initiate startup. I knew Evee was not safe yet, and nobody knew about what just happened in the cockpit. We were completely isolated from each other.
So I jiggled the joystick for a while, twisting left and right, then connected my microphone to the external speaker, and with my best impersonation of the dead pirate I spoke, “Hey, look at this! I have the ultimate weapon! Get the girl up here! I would rather savor this moment with her than this filthy Clanner!”
The speaker distorted my voice a bit, so two pirates came and released Evee from her constraint. She stretched her arms and legs, then came to the elevator escorted by the pirates. Through the bloodstained canopy I watched the elevator slowly levitated until it reached the same level as the cockpit. They dismounted the elevator, then spotted the blood on the canopy.
Before the pirates could get their guns, I sprung from the hatch and shot one of them on the chest. He keeled over as my round erupted, pushing him off the mech and sending him straight to the ground. The other one managed to aim his gun at me, but I was quicker. One shot to the shoulder and the explosion sheared his arm off. He cried an agonizing scream before losing his footing, and fell to the ground.
Evee froze, looking at me in disbelief.
“Get in!” I yelled, hurling the gyrojet pistol. She stood still as if her brain refused to function, but when bullets started to graze the mech, she snapped out of her trance and hopped into the cockpit. She saw the dead pirate, and a soft gasp escaped her mouth.
“I am sorry for the mess,” I strapped myself in the drenched command seat. “Just scoot over until I finish with these pirates.”
Evee did not respond, so I put on my neurohelmet and pushed the throttle to maximum. The entire mech rumbled when it jerked forward. The sudden movement pushed Evee to the back of the cockpit, pressing against the lifeless body of the pirate. I could hear her moaned in disgust. But it was not time for comfort. She was safe, that was all I cared about.
Suddenly a chain explosion blasted my mech from behind. I held my joystick backward, then twisted my mech to the left. The pirates had started scrambling their tanks, and one of the two Drillsons started throwing missiles at me. I knew that my mech did not have enough armor to withstand their onslaught, so I quickly stretched my mech’s left arm, and squeezed the trigger.
I felt as if the ground quaked with a loud thunder. The entire cockpit shook. A bright muzzle flash blitzed from my left arm, sending clustered munitions at the Drillson. At 150 meters, the result was devastating. Half of the hover tank disintegrated in a fireball, and the remaining bulk flew off the ground ablaze before exploded in mid air, spreading flaming parts to a wide area.
“Holy crap…” I heard Evee mumbled in my back. “A Drillson in one shot? That’s a serious firepower!”
I ignored her, and quickly trained a Harasser that started to move. My targeting reticule burnt red, signaling I had a solid lock, so I hit my lasers. Two emerald beams lashed the 25-ton hover tank, singeing its engine and grilling the pilot inside. Two Savannah Masters tried to outflank me to the right. I knew my torso twist could not match their speed, so I simply raised my right leg and kicked the two tanks. My foot hit a Savannah Master on the side. The tiny hovercraft spun uncontrollably before slamming into another Harasser. It exploded upon impact, and the fire engulfed the Harasser. In a second, the Harasser pilot jumped out to safety.
I heard a loud clang, and my weapon tracker signaled me that I had another LBX-20 round to shoot. I targeted the other Drillson, still lining up with the mobile HQ. My cannon bellowed, and the Drillson roared in glorious explosion, blanketing the mobile HQ with flame. The mobile HQ reversed and started to retreat, but it was only a matter of time before the crews abandoned the overheated car.
Losing comrades in an alarming rate, the pirates decided to retreat to the airfield. I was overwhelmed by a this outlandish feeling, an urge to charge them and burn them to the last man. I lined up with a Savannah Master and fired my laser. As it burnt, I singed another one. And another one. I grew hungrier with each explosion. I kicked my mech to maximum speed while blasting left and right, feeding my bloodlust.
“No!” Evee suddenly halted me. “They had Manticores and Von Luckners in those hangars. You can’t battle in this condition.”
Her warning served as a wake-up call for me. She was right. My armor was only hair-thin. I was lucky that these pirates were lousy shots. They could not get a critical hit on my mech, and there were almost a dozen of them boxing me. But I could not press my luck. I yanked my joystick to the left, and my mech swiftly changed direction.
“Where are you going?” Evee asked.
“Starport,” I replied. “Getting off Engadine.”
“Where?” she asked plainly.
“It does not matter. Just get out of Engadine. Then we will think of how to get you to New St. Andrews.” |
|
|
|
|
| Next page >>> |
| Page :
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
