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I, Kerensky
by Roguebaron |
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Outside Starport, Engadine,
Melissa Theater, Lyran Alliance,
May 17, 3058
Ten days of repair gave my Gladiator a big boost in armor. The police hangars did stock enough ferro-fibrous armor to patch my mech. Now the armor tracker was topped off. Unfortunately, they did not have the parts, the knowledge, and Clan-tech LBX-20 cannon to replace my right arm. They also did not have the ammunition for my working LBX-20. They did, however, scrubbed my cockpit and washed the blood. So for the next battle against the pirate, I would go into battle with my lasers only.
Things were better for Evee. Her Trebuchet was Sphere-tech, so the police technicians could fix it in no time. They did not just repair and reload her old missile launcher, they installed two brand-new ones. Evee was very proud of her mech. It was her father’s birthday gift, and seeing it in good hands really lifted up her morale.
I was standing idle 3 kilometers away from the airfield, hiding behind the shadow of a hill. Fercyn waited just 20 meters on my left. His Commando looked very small from my current perspective. Of course, my mech towered a full 7 meters over it. For a moment, I doubted that Fercyn would contribute anything to our offense. But his forte was not the Commando’s arsenal or armor. It was its speed, and soon I would find out how a pleasurable addition Fercyn was to our force.
“Don’t think we are good, Clanner,” Fercyn croaked through the comlink. “I’m not doing this because I want to help you. I’m doing this so that you can get out of Engadine. I’m doing this for the sake of Hogye.”
“Whatever your intention is, I appreciate it,” I chose not to confront the old sheriff. “Hogye deserves the best. Evee, are you in position?”
“Lock and load, my friend,” she chimed. “Just bring them to me!”
“Starport Police. We are in position, ready when you are.”
“Alright, this is Parker. I am going in.”
I pushed the throttle to maximum. My Gladiator galloped to the top of the hill, overlooking the airfield some 2 kilometers away. I cranked up my power scope to maximum, and a hideous long-barreled PPC of a Manticore materialized before my very eyes. I tallied half a dozen Manticores, four Von Luckners, a company of Savannah Master, and two lances of Harassers.
I fired up my reactor and let my mech sprint across the hill. The stomps must have awakened the pirates from their slumber. The hover tanks quickly closed the gap while the heavy tanks assumed defensive position and swung their turrets at me. The Manticores in my scanner were still 1.5 kilometers away when azure bolts started flying in the air. Spheroid’s PPC had a range of 850 meters, so I still had half a kilometer to cover. I lined up with a Harasser, which quickly crisscrossed its path, then singed it with my lasers. A geyser of fire and splinters blossomed into the air, showering a 100-meter radius with burning shrapnel.
Suddenly I heard my console screaming. The heavy tanks had entered 1-kilometer range and started showering me with their missiles. Rocking explosions staggered my mech. The whole right torso blazed like a volcano as the missiles rammed themselves into my mech. I felt it twisting and lurching to the left. I yanked my joystick hard, keeping it standing. Nevertheless, I lost a ton of armor on the right torso.
It was much easier if I just charged the heavy tanks and attacked them at 800 meters. My mech had exceptional agility for an assault, and I could use it to outflank the much slower tanks. However, our goal was to capture the tanks, not to destroy them. So I turned back and started running toward the hill. The Savannah Masters had already reached its firing range, and started peeling the armor of my feet.
“This is Parker. I start taking fire from ten heavy tanks and almost two companies of hover tanks latching on to me. I am taking them to the hill. Watch your target.”
“Copy that,” I heard Evee responding. “Take’em to my crosshair, Parker!”
But as eager as Evee was, I knew I could not go too fast. I should give them the impression that I was alone, an easy target for them, so they would lock their guns at me and follow me around like puppies. So I twisted a little to the left and hit my lasers at the first Savannah Master that passed my crosshair. My laser boiled the thin structure of the 5-ton hovercraft, claiming everything inside the cockpit. With a massive shudder the Savannah Master exploded with hot metal hurled all over the place.
The remaining Harassers unleashed everything he got, forcing me to clench my grips around the joystick as missiles peppered the armor on my leg. The balance-calibrating signal on my neurohelmet made my head throbbing. I let them sink in their confidence, munching my left side, then abruptly pivoted to the right and put my crosshair squarely on a Harasser. At 400 meters, my twin lasers spitted their venom, and the Harasser met the same fate with its comrade fifteen seconds ago.
By this time, the Manticores and Von Luckners had almost reached their gun range, so I decided it was time to run. I whipped my mech to full speed, and crisscrossing my path I climbed the hill. The Bone Devils were so overconfident that they gunned their while throwing me everything they have got, trying to hurt me. By the time they noticed Fercyn powering up, it was too late. A quick burst of lasers dug deep into a Harasser’s hull. The hovertank shrugged the attack and sent its missiles to keep the Commando at bay. But Fercyn piloted his mech like an artist, deftly sidestepped to the left, missing the missiles by more than a foot. Then his torso burst into light, sending streams of missiles towards the 25-tonner. The weakened armor of the Harasser gave way to the armor-piercing rounds, leaving the hull eviscerated. Fercyn spitted his laser into the heart of the tank, torching the magazines, and singeing the tank in a gigantic fireball.
The pirates were caught off guard, but they quickly regrouped. Two Savannah Masters lined up with Fercyn’s Commando and scored a clean hit on his torso. Medium laser, by itself, was just a nuisance. Two, however, hurt bad, especially on a thin-armored 25-tonner like a Commando. Light smoke twirled from impact area, and Fercyn staggered to cope with the loss of armor. Two more Savannah Masters fired their lasers; one missed, one struck a hole on Fercyn’s leg.
I tried to divide their attention. I fired my laser to one of the hovercrafts. The Savannah Master on Fercyn’s left caught fire, forcing the pilot to jump out to safety. I backpedaled and put my crosshair at another Harasser. The small hover tank twisted left to right, but it never escaped my line of fire. With a click on my trigger I incinerated the tank.
Just then, the first Manticore cleared the hill.
“Keep your heads down, boys!” Evee screamed in joy. “This one is mine!”
A rainfall of missiles poured down on the Manticore, which was still spellbound. The missiles cleaved the armor on the turret, turning it into a mangled, smoking, sparking structure. The Manticore fired its PPC wildly, hoping to hit the sniper with its blind fire. But some 900 meters away, shaded under the gloom of rocky mountain, Evee put her long-range missiles to good use. Another set of missiles flew in the air before punishing the 60-ton tank with their warheads. Fire and armor chips raced into the air as Evee’s surgical strike ripped the turret apart. Without its turret, the tank was impotent.
“That’s one in a million!” she gloated, reveling her work. “Keep’em coming!”
But the Bone Devils realized that they were walking into a trap. They restrained their movement and retreated in a methodical fashion. The remaining Harassers and Savannah Masters followed their big brothers while firing their guns once in a while, keeping us from charging directly into their formation.
Had Evee waited until more tanks came into range, we would have disabled at least three or four. But I could not blame her. She was a good mechwarrior, a fine markswoman at her best that had smitten a 60-ton tank in just 2 salvos. She was young, however, and her enthusiasm killed our momentum.
“Crap!” she mumbled. “They make our plan, don’t they?”
“Right,” I pushed my throttle to maximum. “Form up on me. We have to disable the tanks at point blank.”
“Sorry, Parker,” she realized what she had done. “Coming up at full speed.”
“Is it just me or do you forget what I’m riding?” Fercyn blurted. “I ain’t attacking the heavy tanks!”
“Fine,” I replied, somewhat knew what Fercyn was thinking. “Just cover our backs from the hover tanks.”
There were several ways to disable a tank. The easiest way was to hit its track. One laser hit was enough to break the track and immobilize the tank, but the turret was still alive. The other way was to destroy the turret, but there was always a chance of ammo explosion, rendering the tank useless. I did not know which one was the best for me. I would see it in the battle.
As I reached the top of the hill once again, two Manticores were waiting for me. I tightened my grip on the joystick as two azure bolts raced toward me. One flew right beside my head, the other one struck me dead center. I felt my mech slalomed like a mindless zombie, and for a second all gauges went black. Some clusters of ferro-fibrous armor geysered from the impact, and the armor tracker turned orange.
I knew the Manticores needed at least 8 seconds to recycle, so I lined up my crosshair to the bigger threat, a Von Luckner. Two streaks of emerald beams lanced from my torso and landed perfectly on the tank’s hull, roasting the armor into smoldering shards and critically wounded its internal structure. The heavy tank paused briefly for balance before swiveling its turret for a return fire. Ballistics and missiles whistled among the smoke to hurt me. I crunched my own lips as four missiles slammed into my torso. Holding my breath, I punched the laser triggers once again, and two bright bolts of laser speared the 75-ton tank on the turret. The turret glowed orange, but the tank moved backward and showered me with its missiles.
By this time, the Manticores were ready for action. Two PPC beams slugged me on the left arm. I smelled burning myomer as flaming splinters spread out in the air. Although my LBX-20 was depleted, I did not want to lose the gun. I slammed my right foot on the pedal and yanked the sticks backward, bringing my Gladiator backpedaling just as the lasers recycled. I focused on the Von Luckner and stabbed the turret, just as it was about to hit me with its massive 250-millimeter cannon. The delicate structure in its turret gave in to the laser beams. The heavy tank rocked as the turret erupted.
The Manticores launched everything they had at me. My mech shuddered to withstand the onslaught, and the armor tracker turned dangerously red. I kept my move, stepping backward, when some 30 missiles swooshed right above my right shoulder, and maimed a Manticore on its left side. I stole a glance to my right, and a big Trebuchet sprinted just 50 meters behind me. The triple nozzles sparkled, spitting a trio of crimson beams, and the Manticore’s right track melted into sweltering ooze. The Manticore trembled as its track stretched to the point of breaking. Evee let loose another barrage of missiles, half of which exploited the gash on the right track. The track blasted off, followed by a loud clunk when the 60-ton tank came into a screeching halt.
“I hope it’s more than a make-up for my haste,” Evee chimed on the comlink. “Never thought I’d save the great Kerensky in the battle.”
“I have everything under control,” my ego did not allow me to acknowledge the fact that I needed assistance from a girl. “And I am Parker. I might have been Kerensky, but I am Parker!”
Just then, a blue streak zipped from the other Manticore and smote Evee squarely in the midst. Chunks of burning splinters were tossed within a 50-meter radius as Evee jerked back and forth. The 50-ton Trebuchet spun uncontrollably, trying its heart out to regain control. Lucky for her, the Manticore could not keep the pressure. I tilted up my torso twenty degrees, putting my crosshair squarely on the Manticore’s front hull. I barked my guns, drilling the hull, pumping out molten armor. Evee regained her balance, and with a vengeance showered the tank with her missiles. Some of her warheads ripped the weakened hull, pushing through the internal structure, and incinerated the engine. The tank roared in a glorious fireball.
“Just when you thought you’re better,” Evee commented. “Thanks, Parker.”
I swung to the right, ready for another fight with another Von Luckner, but the tank ceded its movement. Soon, all remaining pirate’s tank halted. From the horizon I watched helicopters advanced toward us, and I realized that the Starport Police had done their job. The helicopters encircled the remaining pirates and started barking order to surrender, which the pirates obeyed without further resistance.
Honestly, I was a bit disappointed. Here I was, sitting at a walking nuclear reactor with weapons that could destroy the pirates within minutes, but I had to wait for the cops to relieve me. Perhaps it was the way I was designed: an engine of destruction. I felt my blood was still boiling, ready for another round of carnage. I felt like I was just about to get warm, but the battle was over. There was nothing left for me to fight. Quite disappointing, but I understood that this disappointment was the key to open the door to my past.
“Parker, the Starport Police had seized the old airfield,” Megi stated. “Their UrbanMechs, along with our Cutlass battle armors, managed to capture most of the Bone Devil’s leaders. The rest escaped or were killed during the raid, but I don’t think they pose threat anymore. We’ve blown them apart. You just bought yourself a ticket to Arc Royal, buddy. One of the dropships at Starport is willing to take a detour to Outreach. From there, you’ll find no difficulties finding another ride to Arc Royal.”
Nobody understood what it meant to me. Soon enough, I would learn about my past. I would become ‘somebody’, not just some body without a past. I would be just like Megi, Fercyn, Evee, or any other people that had a history, a home, and a soul.
I knew I could face disappointment. I could be the least person Phelan wanted to meet. I could be Wolf’s genetic waste, flushed down their sewer to the middle of nowhere, a world called Engadine. But I did not care. All I craved was a history of me as a human being. I did not want to be a zombie for the rest of my life.
“Hear that, Parker?” Evee said. “Are you ready for it?”
I could not conceal my smile. “Of course. Of course.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but there’s a chance you don’t get what you want in Arc Royal. Or, your past is not the way you want it to be. Do you understand what I mean?”
“At this point, I would give everything,” I heaved a deep breath. “I would give everything to have a past, no matter what it is. My past define my being, Evee, be it good or bad.” |
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