LE5790 - Illusions Of Victory

by Loren L. Coleman

  The signal that relied on a living Mech Warrior.

  Seized by a white-hot fury, Karl turned his Cestus on the Emperor while toggling his targeting system alive and dropping cross hairs over the Lyran's outline. "Nail that murdering son of an Archon!"

  So close, he couldn't possibly miss. Tightening up on his main triggers, Karl fired ruby lances from both his large lasers. The concentrated energy runneled molten armor from the Emperor's center and left chest. Then the Cestus's gauss rifle punched a silvery slug in right behind the second laser, pounding the last of its armor into impotent shards that now littered the ground.

  The Emperor rocked back under the onslaught, but would have walked through it to hammer at the Cestus next if not for Aubry Larsen's Dragon Fire. Another large laser scarred the Emperor's left leg, while her gauss rifle slammed a second of the devastating rail-accelerated slugs into the Lyran's left side. The impact pierced to the internal structure, smashing titanium supports and crushing the physical shielding that helped contain the fusion reactor burning away at the heart of the 'Mech. It released in a furious blossom of uncontrolled energies, bleeding reddish-gold fire out of hip and shoulder joints before bursting through to consume the Emperor in one final explosion.

  Burning metal and myomer flew out in a fiery hail, a few large pieces slamming into Karl's Cestus. He rode out the shock wave, holding his 'Mech under control.

  "Into the tunnels and then up to the surface," he said. Sparing Estelle's fallen Penetrator one last glance, he walked his machine toward the 'Mech bay exit. His friend was up there, alone and hunted. "If it gets in your way, and it's Lyran, burn it down. It's that easy."

  And just then, it really seemed so.

  * * *

  On the closed-circuit trivid, four 'Mechs painted the black and copper of Blackstar Stables pressed through a screaming blizzard against a like number of Skye Tigers. Gem-colored laserfire washed the driving snow and sleet into neon sparks. The thunderous tumult of autocannon and missiles shook a distant glacier, causing it to calve some small icebergs into an ice-rimmed pool. Where one of the war machines stepped, snow banks melted from the residual heat bleeding off armored feet and legs. For a holographic environment, Boreal Reach showed a strict attention to detail that left many professionals stunned and drove the videophile crowds to near frenzy.

  Drew Hasek-Davion sipped at a bourbon neat, hardly tasting the expensive, smoky liquor as he concentrated on the fight. The sounds of battle, reproduced by a top-line sound system, echoed in the booth he shared only with a bodyguard. He had opted to forgo attending the Coliseum match between Searcy and Vandergriff. Instead he'd taken his private box at the Black Hills arena where four of Blackstar's lower-echelon fighters were competing in a rare lance-on-lance event against the Skye Tigers. Though a bit strange, his presence here demonstrated his support for the up-and-comers, as well as a strong measure of confidence in his premier fighter. He glanced at his watch, his lips pressing together in a thin, humorless smile.

  And if everything had gone according to well-laid plans, the Searcy-Vandergriff match would have to be re-fought anyway. Drew eagerly anticipated the windfall of a rematch—moved from the ruined Coliseum over to the Boreal Reach arena!—on the next morning. A Grand Tournament first.

  For most, the team match in the simulated blizzard was only a lead-in for a Grand Tournament bout. For Drew it would be the night's main event. While everyone focused on the Grand Tournament, he would preside over the beginning of the end for Jerry Stroud and his upstart stable. Tonight Stroud would lose one of his better warriors, as well as one of his better BattleMechs, in a tragic accident. A damn shame, really—about the 'Mech, that was.

  Reaching down to his belt, he tapped one finger against the side of his wireless pager, which had been redesigned with a new feature for this occasion. At the press of a button, it would send a signal through a number of relays until reaching the arena. Torrence Klein of the Skye Tigers would fight in his new Barghest, one of the rare quadruped 'Mechs and a very efficient killer. Unfortunately, he had trusted the 'Mech to a tech with dubious loyalties to the Alliance and a gambling habit to support. A useful man to have in his pocket, Drew had found. All he had to do now was wait for a solid body-hit against the Barghest.

  All according to plan.

  He toasted Klein with the last of his bourbon, draining the highball with one indulgent slug. Wouldn't be long now. The Lyrans were falling back in obvious distress, while Blackstar's MechWarriors continued their lethal barrage. Although Drew saw no reason for such an early rout, he didn't mind it one bit. Then Klein's Barghest suddenly turned its broad-shouldered back on its foes, unleashing the fury of its heavy weapons against the arena's camouflaged southern door. The holographic cliff face crumbled as the projection lost its backing. The Barghest leapt forward, disappearing into the opened cavern that led back down into the underground bays. Two more Lyrans followed, also escaping the arena. The fourth, a hatchet-wielding Nightsky, sprawled awkwardly to the floor as a final salvo from the Blackstar lance shredded its rear armor and carved out its gyro.

  It happened so fast Drew forgot all about the control unit he wore at his belt. He stared dumbly at the screen, at his lance, which had paused in apparent confusion. "After them!" he shouted at the trivid, willing his men forward. Two of them did move toward the shattered door, slowly at first but picking up speed once they committed.

  Now he stabbed at the pager, sending out the killing signal. The indicator light remained dark. No return signal. The Barghest was already too far away from a relay, protected by the thick ferrocrete walls of Boreal Reach. Drew had never imagined anything like this, that Torrence Klein would make such a dramatic exit. What was going on? Drew had turned off the commentator feed, preferring to watch and enjoy the destruction as if the skirmish were a real battle. Now he grabbed up the controls from a nearby table and selected the appropriate audio channel, catching the handicapper Mason Wells in the middle of an excited ramble.

  ". . . to Silesia where the riots have spread over several blocks as the Coliseum and 'Mech yards continue to deploy BattleMechs intent on bringing down Michael Searcy and any other Black Hills 'Warriors on hand. We've even received reports that Montenegro 'Mechs have been fired upon and returned that fire, though at this time it isn't clear whether the Eagles are working for or against the already-overmatched fighters of the Federated Suns.

  "We've finally gotten a video feed of the Boreal Reach 'Mech bays, where the initial fighting broke out between Lion City and Gemini Stables following sound-casts of the events in Silesia." The video cut to static for a brief second, then over to one of the large underground bays where a half-dozen BattleMechs exchanged fire at point-blank range.

  "It's developed into a free-for-all down there. We know that Sheridan Lang is dead—you can see the remains of his Ts'ang in the lower left corner. The Cathay champion was set for his Grand Tournament match against Lion City's Jasmine Kalasa tonight and went hunting Kalasa when the fighting broke out. She ripped him apart and then headed into the tunnels. Not too surprising, that outcome, considering she was favored five to three in the latest—"

  Drew switched off the trivid. Mason Wells had reminded him of the soundcasts. That would let him stay abreast of events without chaining himself to this booth and this building, which would soon be the center of more intense rioting as the arena fans spread into the streets. Better to be mobile. He had interests to protect and plans to see through. Drew was always one with an eye out for opportunity.

  This day certainly had possibilities.

  * * *

  The Solaris City underworld was a very real thing, but not in the sense of old action-adventure holovids where the criminal element lurked in the shadows of alleys, run-down warehouses, and secret hideaways. In Solaris, the crime lords inhabited high-rise boardrooms, while the underworld belonged to the BattleMechs. A vast network of tunnels, underground repair bays, and storage facilities ran under the city, allowing 'Mechs to move aro
und without disrupting traffic in the streets. Each arena was tied into this network, as were the spaceport and the main 'Mech yards for each sector. The tunnels connecting these hubs were fifteen meters high to accommodate even the tallest BattleMech and sixty meters wide at the narrowest point.

  Still, natural bottlenecks did occur. Only four tunnels crossed under the Solaris River, for one. Another was the difficult, deep stretch under the Cathay lowlands, where water seepage was a problem throughout Solaris VII's wet months—which were most of the year. And then there was the hilly terrain of the Davion sector of the Black Hills, which compounded one problem area with another.

  Aligning the tunnels of the Black Hills with those of the Cathay lowlands had been extremely difficult, so that only three main passages existed to pass from one sector to the other. Two of them had required the construction of ramps that allowed above-ground travel for a few blocks. These rose up in the middle of the Black Hills' extensive slums where no one minded inconveniencing the residents. It was toward one of these ramps that Torrence Klein in his Barghest, his stable-mate in a Scarabus, and a Cathay MechWarribr they'd picked up in the tunnels under Boreal Reach were headed. The Barghest and Scarabus led, with Kym San Lee's Cataphract close behind.

  Klein had given up on the main tunnel right away, as it ran directly under the Federated Suns Police Department. He was sure the FSPD would have the area locked down with BattleMechs and static turret defenses. He and Kym had decided they would go up the ramp at Radler and Frances Avenue, then through the Danning Street greenbelt, which would let them out at the Cathay border. Once there, Kym guaranteed them access back into the tunnel system. That would let Klein and his stable-mate continue on to Silesia, where the fighting raged out of control.

  Not that the fighting in Boreal Reach was any less vicious, but Silesia was home. And at the eastern edge of the sector was Skye Tiger Mall, the complex that housed their stable's training facilities and main 'Mech bays. Klein couldn't stand to think about the Davionists striking there, leaving him a fighter without a stable. The Capellan 'Warrior's reasons for fighting his way free and heading for Cathay were less clear to him, though apparently Liao stables were also brawling beneath, within, and around the Jungle arena. Kym wanted a piece of that action, whichever side he supported. Klein shrugged. This was an alliance of pure convenience that would dissolve as soon as each got what he wanted from the bargain.

  At the ramp, the Davions upped the stakes.

  A pair of new Enforcer III's held the lower edge of the ramp, proudly wearing the sword and shield insignia of the FSPD. They didn't wait for hails, but opened fire as soon as the Lyran 'Mechs rounded the corner leading to their position. Gem-colored beams lit the tunnel, concentrating on the Scarabus and followed quickly by the hammer of autocannon fire. The light 'Mech shuddered under the savage assault, shedding armor in molten-orange splashes and a rain of glittering fragments that became a rainbow of colors in the backwash of laserfire. The Scarabus held to its feet, accelerating at a run to force a breach through the pair of Enforcers and gain the relative safety above.

  But before Klein's stable-mate could bring any weapon into effective range, the FedRats fired again with lasers and autocannon. One stream of high-velocity metal slugs walked a line from the Scarabus's crotch out to its hip, chewing past earlier laser damage and blasting through part of the titanium skeleton beneath. The leg separated, leaving behind a short stub of framework, and the light 'Mech toppled into a disastrous skid that threw up sparks and fragments of armor.

  Even the greenest garrison warrior couldn't miss while shooting down a narrow tunnel filled with one hundred-seventy tons of war machine. The Scarabus pilot, limited to short-range weaponry, had no chance. Klein decided it was time to show the Davionists what made Solaris arena fighters among the best in the Inner Sphere. Closing at eighty-five kilometers per hour, he drifted his Barghest to the left to clear Kym's line of fire while dropping his targeting reticle over the Enforcer on the right.

  The cross hairs burned the deep gold of a hard lock, and he cut loose with both large lasers as well as a rapid-fire burst from his twelve-centimeter autocannon. The laser turrets on the Barghest's left shoulder tracked in against the Enforcer's right torso, burning away the Star-Guard armor composite. The depleted-uranium slugs from his heavy-bore autocannon bit in at centerline and drifted right, raining a shower of shards and splinters onto the tunnel floor until the Enforcer had lost protection across its entire chest.

  The Black Hills security 'Mech teetered back, unbalanced and on the edge of falling, when Kym San Lee's Cataphract hammered in with its light-and medium-weight autocannon. Exploiting the Enforcer's ruined armor, the forty-millimeter slugs and eighty-mill fragmenting rounds he fired tore at the 'Mech with the savage force of a jungle cat eviscerating its prey. The cluster-round shrapnel carved away at internal supports, engine shielding, and the ammunition bin for the Enforcer's autocannon. The ammo went off in a series of hard-hitting detonations, ripping apart the Enforcer and freeing the fusion reactor. Golden flame lanced out, scarring the second FedRat 'Mech as the first ended its usefulness in an explosion that filled the tunnel with fire and flying parts and equipment.

  The Barghest leapt through the wall of flame, as fierce and undaunted as the mythological creature for which it was named. Klein did not waste time with the second Enforcer picking itself up off the ramp, but made for the surface instead. Kym, with a deeper grudge to assuage, paused his Cataphract long enough to hammer away with all weapons at point-blank range.

  Klein broke free of the underground tunnel system while Kym stayed there, blasting away, so he wasn't certain what was happening down there.

  And never would be certain, as his own fusion reactor detonated not two seconds later.

  * * *

  A thrown rock skittered off the bullet-proof glass of Drew Hasek-Davion's hovercraft sedan. His driver threw a sharp "S" into the vehicle's glide path, spoiling the aim of the vandals—probably would-be carackers—then turned down Danning Street.

  Leaning forward in the car's plush seat, ignoring the city-wide riot, Drew gazed through gray-tinted windows at the shattered and smoking remains of the Barghest. He clipped the modified pager back onto his belt, then tensed as a damaged Cataphract limped up the ramp and plunged into the nearby greenbelt. His hovercar was not armored against a BattleMech, but the surviving Cathay Mech Warrior was more interested in making it to his home sector than taking unsporting shots at civilian vehicles.

  Drew would never have been out among this insanity on the streets, except that he wanted to personally guarantee that Klein never left the Black Hills alive. Too much effort and money had gone into this operation, the first nail in the Skye Tigers' coffin. Sometimes the gains outweighed a little personal risk. Drew could see no other way of attempting to head off the Barghest but to get within range for the small transmitter to detonate the petroglycerin charge planted during the 'Mech's last maintenance cycle.

  A lucky guess, really, tracking Torrence Klein to the Frances Avenue ramp. It also brought Drew toward a most dangerous area where the vast slums of the Black Hills had erupted into street fighting, widespread looting, and vigilante justice. The riots were spreading fast. The same ferocious mania that had seized the warriors under the Coliseum and Boreal Reach had now spread to the population of Solaris City. Drew knew that could make for opportunities, although ones better exploited from a safer location. He punched the intercom that connected him to the driver's compartment up front. Still looking ahead, he could see the street choked off with swarming rioters.

  "Back to Green Mansion," he ordered his man. "And you slow for nothing less than twenty-five tons."

  11

  Ishiyama, Kobe

  Solaris City, Solaris VII

  Freedom Theater, Lyran Alliance

  15 August 3062

  Under Ishiyama, Garrett was seated at the controls of his battered Mad Dog, awaiting his match of the day. He was proud of his ride, a Clan-design
OmniMech that the brainless vidcasters insisted on calling by its Inner Sphere name of Vulture. He didn't know which made him angrier, that they ignored the Mad Dog's true Clan name or that they dishonored the 'Mech and its 'Warrior with their ignorant stupidity.

  The Mad Dog was no scavenger, but a rabid fighter— a 'Mech designed to go head-to-head against mightier opponents and still give a good accounting of itself. It was barely recognizable after a year and a half of battles and inept repairs by Blackstar technicians, but it was still Clan.

  It was still his.

  Because he'd decided to wait without distraction in his cockpit, he was late in realizing what was happening out on the streets. When the big underground bay suddenly exploded with activity and sporadic weapons fire, his reflexes took over. He quickly powered up while patching in to the commline to find out what was going on.

  The news was sketchy, but one thing was clear. Fighting had broken wide open in the streets of Solaris City. Some stables were taking advantage of the chaos to settle old grudges. Others were apparently using it to start new ones. From what he heard, there wasn't a single faction in the city that hadn't taken hostile fire from somewhere, and many 'Warriors had simply "gone rogue." Across the river, the fighting between the Black Hills and Silesia was reported as exceptionally brutal.

  And now here in Kobe as well. Two 'Mech battles already raged across the bay, filling the air with a storm of destructive energy. He waited, as if invisible, his 'Mech still racked in its berth awaiting the signal to move up into the arena. His would have been a "filler" match, one of several preceding tonight's Grand Tournament bout in which Theodore Gross of the hated Draconis Combine was slated to defend his title against another fighter from Garrett's own stable. Now one of those men suddenly burst into the bay on foot, heedless of the 'Mech fire going on all around him.