Wolf's Free£ancers

Web novel by LtCol[W£]GrinnerWolf

Templar

MechWarrior Chronicles

Winds of Change
A proud Khan. A rebellious warrior. Together, they must strive against all odds to ensure the survival of their clan.
A Web novel by A Garang Wolf, copyrighted by AFAR (©AFAR 2003) (ahfaiz@nstp.com.my). Other copyrighted materials belong to their respective owners.

Synopsis:
Due to unrelenting pressure from rival clans, the Ðreaded Legion faces total annihilation. In order to survive, it must adapt to new ways and leave clan space before it is too late. However, the Ðreaded Legion can never trust Inner Sphere surats completely. Thus it must prepare for the day when it needs to draw on its reserve fighting force no one suspects exists - the Wolf's Free£ancers mercenary unit.

Chapter 1: Rebel with a cause

Chapter 2: The long journey begins

Chapter 3: A question of faith
Chapter 4: Death Comes on Swift Wings

Chapter 5: Lull before the storm

Chapter 6: The Crossover

Chapter 7: Rebirth

Chapter 8: The Gladiators

"Where is he?" Karen asked Jay, the Kell Hound operative who helped get Wolf to Solaris VII.
"He's in the guest room," he replied.
"What's he doing?" Karen asked further.
"Sleeping, I guess," he answered. "Want me to get him for you?"
"No," replied Karen. "You can go now. I'll take it from here."
"Alright," he acknowledged. "If you need me, just buzz. I'll be on planet for at least another week before I head on out again."
"Thanks, but I think we'll be alright," Karen assured, but something in her demeanour and the way she spoke indicated that Karen was a little uneasy about having to deal with Wolf.
"It has been a while since you had direct contact with a member of your clan, huh?" asked Jay. "And it makes you uneasy."
"No...yes," she replied. "Aaah.... What does it matter anyway? I'm what I am because of my job."
"Girl, you hold your Warriors in high esteem much too much," remarked Jay. "If nothing else, you're supposed to convert him to what you are now."
"Really?" Karen asked Jay, half amused. "And exactly what am I?"
"Why? Inner Sphere scum, of course," Jay remarked with a wide smile.
That caused Karen to laugh out loud, but she quickly reined herself in, for fear that it would wake Wolf up rudely. Fortunately, it did not, but it did help ease her tension, for which Karen was grateful.
"Well, I'd better go place my bet before the start of the next Light Mech prelims round," said Jay.
"You do that," Karen said. "And thanks."
"You're welcome," Jay replied and left through the front door of the apartment which was really a safe house for both Kell Hounds and Dreaded Legion operatives.
Steeling herself, Karen walked to the guest room door and knocked. There was no answer. She waited a few seconds and knocked again. Fearing that something might have happened to Wolf, Karen opened the door slowly and looked in. The room was dark and had a rancid smell of the breath of someone who has had way too much to drink. And that made Karen's nose cringe involuntarily. She opened the door wider to let fresh air and light into the room.
Wolf was slumped on the guest room's double bed with his face turned toward the door. He still had his spacer boots and worn out leather jacket on - they were part of his merchant marine disguise.
"MechWarrior Wolf," Karen called out. "MechWarrior Wolf!" Karen called out, a little louder, causing Wolf to wake up with a start. He jumped off the bed and quickly stood up but then fell to his knees with both hands clutching his head.
"Arggh! My head!" Wolf cried out in agony.
"I'll make some black coffee," said Karen as she turned around and headed for the kitchen.
'That voice is familiar,' Wolf thought to himself, but he could not place it, at least not while his head was pounding terribly. Slowly, Wolf leaned back against the bed, and rested his head on it.
A few minutes later, Karen came back with a cup of hot, steaming, deliciously smelling coffee. The smell was so glorious that Wolf became motivated enough to open his eyes a little. Then his eyes grew wide with surprise as he saw that it was Karen bringing the coffee.
"Jen?" Wolf asked.
Hearing that name, Karen stopped in her tracks. "Wow. I haven't heard that name in a long time," she said.
"No. You're not Jen," Wolf said allowed, as his thoughts became more lucid.
"No, I'm not," Karen affirmed, as she came closer to Wolf and passed him the coffee. "I'm Karen, Jen's sibkin."
Although it did not happen very often, true born Warriors of the same sibko may look very much like one another. In fact, there would be times when they would be spitting images of each other.
Wolf accepted the coffee appreciatively and took a few sips. He then leaned his head back, but kept his eyes on Karen. Based on the contacts update file he received from Darkstalker prior to making planet-fall, Wolf knew that he would be working with Jen's sibkin. He just did not realise how closely they resembled each other until he saw Karen in person for the first time.
"Forgive me for staring," said Wolf. "It's just that..." Wolf began. 'I miss Jen so much,' Wolf wanted to say, but thought better of it. "You both look so much alike," Wolf said, instead.
Karen was not the least bit amused by that remarked. She felt anger rising in her as old sentiments were stirred, but she quickly suppressed them with a quick change of subject by asking, "So, what happened to you? How did you end up becoming so drunk?"
"Believe me, I would've preferred to stay away from any intoxicant," said Wolf. "But Jay said that all spacers who got off jumpships would head on to the nearest pub. And it'd be odd if we didn't. So, there we were at this sleazy place called... the Blue Moon having cold beer when Jay decided that he needed to leave me for a bit and check on 'something'. Then, an old spacer next to me started to chat me up, thinking that he knew me from somewhere."
"Uh-huh," said Karen.
"So, I just did what I was told and ran my 'story' by him," continued Wolf. "But then, he started asking things that forced me to add to my story. I had to do something quick before he or anyone else around us started noticing inconsistencies in my story. So, I offered to share a bottle of whisky between us with the hope that he would become too drunk to make sense of anything I said. He was half gone anyway, but then Jay showed up and joined us. The next thing I knew, Jay was drinking the old spacer and myself 'under the table'. And then, I woke up, here...."
"I see you've overcome your oral inhibitions," remarked Karen.
"Sorry?" inquired Wolf
"Your use of contractions," explained Karen. "You sound almost like a real Inner Sphere person."
"Practice makes perfect," responded Wolf.
"Aff," said Karen, a little coyly.
"So, what now?" asked Wolf.
"Alright, MechWarrior Wolf," Karen started explaining, as she sat on the bed next to Wolf and crossed her legs. "Back in Clan space, you'd outrank me, because of your status in the Warrior caste. But out here, I'm your controller and you're my asset. You work for me. You take orders from me. You don't question my decisions or directives, until our primary objective is achieved. Is that understood?"
Under normal circumstances, Wolf would have been deeply offended by the fact that a pseudo-Warrior like Karen deemed herself fit to give him orders. Wolf would have jumped her and ripped out her throat with his bare hands. However, they were not under normal circumstances. More significantly, although such considerations ran through Wolf's head, he found himself strangely occupied by simultaneously running thoughts of Karen's physique.
Although Karen was the spitting image of Jen, there were differences, both subtle and obvious. They were of the same height, had the same face, eyes, hair colour and even voice. But Jen was far more well exercised and, probably because of that, not so endowed. Oddly enough, Wolf found that part of Karen's physique to be highly attractive. And as Karen was wearing a low-cut, V-necked body hugging jumper, Wolf found it extremely difficult to focus his eyes on anywhere else but Karen's cleavage.
"MechWarrior Wolf?" Karen prompted, snapping Wolf out of his trancelike state.
"Aff, I mean, yes, understood," replied Wolf.
'He's converted, alright,' Karen thought to herself, as she realised what Wolf had been looking at, exactly.
'Damn, I've been around the lower castes too long,' Wolf thought to himself, realising that he was finding non-warrior-like physical attributes sexually appealing.'
"So, what's my new identity going to be?" Wolf asked.
"Whatever it is that you want it to be," replied Karen.
"Huh? I don't follow," remarked Wolf.
"The tricky part was getting you on Solaris VII," Karen explained. "Now that you're here, you're free to reinvent yourself however you wish."
Wolf did not know what to say to that. And so, he just stared at Karen, puzzled.
"Solaris VII is a place where people from all walks of life try to make it big," said Karen. "Many, especially disgraced and dispossessed warriors, come here for a second chance at making something of themselves. There're also mercenaries and pirates who come here to gamble away their wealth as well as their lives so as to double or even triple their fortunes. And so long as wealth keeps pouring into Solaris VII, the planetary government isn't too concerned about who's bringing all that wealth in and from where."
"So, why the deception?" asked Wolf. "Why did I have to come to Solaris VII as a merchant marine?"
"Well, while the planetary government couldn't care less who you are, Solaris VII is filled with hostile intelligence operatives," explained Karen. "We don't want them to trace you back to the Kell Hounds or, worse, all the way back to the Dreaded Legion."
"I see," said Wolf.
"Anyway, there's a match scheduled for tomorrow and you're in it. All I need is for you to sign off a few documents, like entry forms, bank account application forms, Mech acquisition papers, power of attorney..." Karen trailed off, while she unclipped her foldable palm-top personal computer and set it up on the bed for Wolf. "I just need your name and signature," said Karen as she unclipped the palm-top PC's writing stylus and brought up the necessary documents. She then handed the stylus and slid the palm-top PC over to Wolf.
Wolf wrote in his name and signed the first document.
"Uh, MechWarrior Wolf, you need at least two names," said Karen "A first name and a surname. You can't go around with just 'Wolf'."
"I'm not a blooded warrior," said Wolf with a shrug.
Hearing that, Karen gave Wolf a sardonic look, snorted and then said, "Yeah. So?"
"Hmmm.... How does 'Grinner Wolf' sound to you?" asked Wolf.
"Odd, but who cares?" Karen remarked.
"I was Tech 3rd Class Grinner of the Scientist caste and I kinda liked the way the name sounded," Wolf explained.
"Fine. Grinner Wolf it is," said Karen.
Wolf wrote both names in all the forms and signed them off.
"Right," said Karen. "I'd better rush these forms off. I'll be back tomorrow. In the meanwhile, if you're hungry, there's food in the kitchen. And I suggest you check out the holo-vid news grids to find out what's happening in the universe and specifically on Solaris VII, MechWarrior Wolf."
"Call me Grinner," said Wolf.
"Aff, Grinner it is," said Karen with a neutral face, after which she left.
The next day, Wolf and Karen were at the Coliseum Arena Mech bays looking over Wolf's 'new' Mech. It was a Raven, and unlike Wolf who looked fresh and fit, the Raven looked as though it had seen one too many matches.
"How much did this rust bucket cost again?" Wolf asked.
"Slightly under seven million C-Bills," answered Karen.
"What the hell?!" Wolf exclaimed. And as he looked up, he noticed that the Raven was tilting to the left. "You've got to be joking."
"This is the best I can do, under such short notice, Grinner," said Karen.
"You expect me to go out there in this and win?" Wolf asked disbelievingly.
Hearing that, Karen pulled Wolf aside so as to be out of earshot of the Mech bay maintenance techs and said angrily, "Look! We've been over this before. You're not supposed to win this one. You're just here to make an impression."
"Yeah? Well, what kind of an impression do you think I'd be making if I get myself killed in that?" retorted Wolf, as he pointed back to the overworked Raven with his thumb for emphasis.
"They sent you out here because you're supposed to be good, remember?" Karen countered coyly. "Prove it."
Wolf just stared at Karen and didn't reply.
"What do we have on that thing?" he finally asked.
"The best money can buy under the circumstances," replied Karen. "One Clan ER large pulse laser and one Clan SSRM6."
Wolf did not look convinced.
"Don't worry," said Karen. "I've arranged it so that you're placed next to non-campers. Kill them off as quickly as you can and take cover in one of the side entrances till the campers finish each other off."
"And if they don't?" asked Wolf.
"You just have to finish as one of the top four," placated Karen. "That's when offers come in."
"THIS IS ROBERT DRAKE, REPORTING TO YOU LIVE FROM COLISEUM ARENA," said a voice over the arena's public address (PA) system and holo-vid displays.
"You'd better get going," said Karen. "And good luck."
"Thanks," said Wolf as he turned and walked toward his Raven.
"MOST PEOPLE DON'T PAY MUCH ATTENTION TO LIGHT MECH MATCHES, BUT I SAY THAT THEY'RE PROBABLY SOME OF THE MOST EXCITING TO WATCH," added the live commentator Drake. "WE HAVE A FEW NEW FACES IN THIS MATCH, BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY, THIS IS THE MATCH THAT IS SUPPOSED TO MARK TYPHOON'S GLORIOUS COMEBACK. FORMER CHAMPION OF THE SOLARIS GRAND CHAMPIONSHIPS, TYPHOON HAD BEEN DEFEATED AND BRUTALLY INJURED IN LAST SEASON'S GRAND FINALS. BUT HE VOWED THAT HE WOULD COME BACK TWICE AS STRONG. WELL, LET US SEE IF HE CAN PUT HIS MONEY WHERE HIS MOUTH IS."
"Great. Just great," Wolf remarked after having been reminded that his main opponent was a highly seasoned Solaris gladiator. He quickly mounted the Raven, put on his neuro-helmet and ran through his Raven's systems start-up process. His voice print and password had already been securely loaded into the Mech's onboard computer. So, all he had to do was speak out his password.
The onboard computer acknowledge that it was Wolf who was piloting the Mech and began to bring the Raven completely to life.
"MechWarriors, on your marks," said an official over the coms.
"Roger that," acknowledged Wolf, as he began taxiing his Raven out of the Mech bay area and into the arena.
As Karen had assured, Wolf was placed between non-campers, or those who, like Wolf, were not "affiliated" with any gladiator faction. Karen had paid major bribes to Solaris officials to pull that off.
'And so, I'd better not disappoint,' Wolf thought to himself.
Although camping was officially prohibited, it was the norm in Solaris matches. So long as the right officials were suitably bribed and match riggings were not so blatant so as to result in public outrage, no one would find themselves disqualified because of camping or other seemingly innocent irregularities. All Wolf had to do was become a contender for one of the top camping factions by showing that he was a force to be reckoned with.
"AND THE MATCH BEGINS!" said Drake, as the Coliseum Arena horns blew. "AS IS TYPICAL OF LIGHT MATCHES, THE MECHS THAT ARE FIELDED TEND TO BE WOLFHOUNDS AND RAVENS, WITH THE ODD ULLER AND COUGAR THROWN IN. AND...BAM! THERE WE HAVE IT, OUR FIRST CASUALTY OF THE MATCH," commented Drake excitedly at the site of a jump-capable Cougar being taken out in mid-flight by a Wolfhound bearing the insignia of Solaris gladiator Typhoon. The Cougar pilot managed to eject to safety, fortunately.
And as planned, Wolf had engaged the non-affiliated, no-name, as in no reputation, Solaris Mech jock closest to him and took that Mech jock out of the fight quickly. It was probably due to the shock value or rocking effect of the ER large pulse laser and SSRM6 that the no-name Mech jock could not counter Wolf effectively enough with his own Raven's weapons which consisted of nothing more than standard issue or Stage 1 Inner Sphere lasers and missiles. And it was not clear at the time whether the no-name Mech jock survived.
Quickly, Wolf manoeuvred his Raven into the closest side entrance and went passive, so as not to alert the campers of his presence. And it appeared to be working, since they were ignoring him.
"FAST AND FURIOUS, THESE LIGHT MECH MATCHES," Drake continued. "AND BY THE LOOKS OF IT, IT'LL BE OVER REAL SOON."
"MechWarrior Wolf," said an official over the coms. "This is your first warning. You cannot remain disengaged from combat for more than a minute. Get back into the fight, copy?"
Wolf kept silent. According to the rules, Wolf will only be disqualified after the third warning and half a minute would usually pass between warnings.
"AND WE HAVE SOMEONE WHO APPEARS TO BE HIDING AND DISENGAGED. SOMEONE HAD BETTER TELL HIM THAT THIS IS NOT HOW SOLARIS MATCHES ARE FOUGHT," Drake remarked in reference to Wolf's hiding in one of the side entrances.
About half a minute after the first warning, "MechWarrior Wolf, this is your second warning. You cannot remain disengaged from combat for more than a minute. Get back into the fight, copy?"
Wolf let several more seconds pass before acknowledging, "Roger that."
"AND WE ARE DOWN FROM TEN TO FIVE," said Drake. "WILL TYPHOON SURVIVE THIS MATCH TO GO ON TO BECOME CHAMPION? WORD ON THE STREET IS THAT A LOT OF MONEY IS RIDING ON HIS VICTORY HERE IN COLISEUM ARENA AND, FROM THIS EVENING'S PERFORMANCE, TYPHOON MAY JUST MAKE A LOT OF PEOPLE EXTREMELY HAPPY. ALREADY HE HAS HAD THREE KILLS TO HIS NAME."
Out of the five Mechs left standing, Wolf was the deciding factor. He could either lean against or toward Typhoon. Quickly, Wolf singled out a Raven attacking Typhoon's Wolfhound and fired his ER large pulse laser repeatedly at it from sniping distance.
With the combined firepower of eight ER medium lasers on Typhoon's Wolfhound and Wolf's ER large pulse laser, the Raven was quickly brought down. After that, Typhoon, his wingman and Wolf concentrated their fire on an opposing-camper Wolfhound. It was quickly brought down too, much to the delight of the cheering spectators.
"Much obliged, stranger," said Typhoon over a tight-beam com channel between him and Wolf. "Now, you gotta go down."
"We'll see about that," Wolf responded.
Having been equipped with ER large pulse lasers, Wolf had a longer reach than Typhoon. But as soon as Typhoon's Wolfhound had caught up with Wolf's Raven, Wolf found himself outgunned. Coupled with the weapons fire coming from Typhoon's wingman, Wolf had no chance of defeating Typhoon.
And sure enough, Typhoon took out Wolf's Raven's left leg, thereby causing the Mech to take a tumble. Wolf braced himself as best as he could as he rode out the crash.
"Shut down, stranger," Typhoon instructed over the tight-beam com channel. "Don't force me to kill you."
"Roger that," Wolf responded, as he shook his head as well as blinked and squinted his eyes several times to clear his senses of the disorienting effects of neuro-helmet feedback coming from his Raven's gyro trying to keep a tumbling Mech upright. Then, Wolf shut his Mech down, so as to indicate his surrender.
"AND IT'S DOWN TO TWO!" Drake said excitedly, commenting on the obvious. "TYPHOON IS ON A ROLL!! AND... THERE YOU HAVE IT. TYPHOON IS THE WINNER!" Drake added as Typhoon 'legged' his remaining wingman, thereby causing him to take a tumble and shutdown as planned. Seeing that, the cheering crowd went wild.
"AND WE ARE PATCHED THROUGH TO TYPHOON," Drake remarked as Typhoon's coms were connected to the Coliseum Arena's PA system. "GO AHEAD CHAMP. YOU'RE LIVE."
"I TOLD YOU I'D WIN, DIDN'T I," said Typhoon smugly. "I TOLD YOU I'D COME BACK TWICE AS STRONG. THIS IS ONLY THE BEGINNING, ONLY THE BEGINNING."
"YES YOU DID, CHAMP. YES YOU DID," said Drake much to the approval of the cheering crowd.
Switching over to the tight-beam com channel again, Typhoon said to Wolf, "You've got quite a fire in your belly there, stranger. How about we work out a deal, so you can fight all the way to the grand finals with me?"
"Sounds good," said Wolf.
"Alright! Catch you later, stranger," said Typhoon, happily.
"It's Grinner, by the way," said Wolf.
"Alright, 'Grinner'," Typhoon replied as he proceeded to do his victory rounds.
Later that evening, and back at the one-time 'safe house' apartment, Wolf found himself amused by the number of photographers camping out across the street, in front of the apartment building.
"I didn't realise that my performance today would create such a stir," remarked Wolf, with amusement clearly on his face.
"That's nothing," said Karen. "Wait till you get to the Assault class round. The paparazzi would be swarming you like flies. I doubt that you'd be even half-amused then."
"It's good that I've generated interest, yes?" asked Wolf. "I mean, isn't this what sports entertainment's all about?"
"Yes," replied Karen as a matter of fact. "But it does make the task of moving you around very complicated and highly risky."
"We're prepared, nonetheless, aren't we?" asked Wolf.
"Yes," affirmed Karen. "It's just that I'm more used to covert missions that do not involve high profile assets...."
"You'll do fine," Jay assured quickly. "Alex, here, will be an excellent stand-in," Jay added and nodded at Alex in emphasis.
Alex, who was also a Kell Hound operative, was of the same height and build as Wolf. And although Alex had sharp features and Wolf did not, from a distance, they both resembled each other well enough.
And just then, the vid-phone sounded.
"Alright," said Karen. "That must be him."
Jay and Alex stepped out of the vid-phone's view, after which Karen
switched the vid-phone on using a remote and took her seat next to Wolf on the couch facing the vid-phone.
"Hey, Grinner!" Typhoon greeted, with a wide smile on his face. From the looks of it, he may have had to much to drink already. And in the background were guests at what appeared to be Typhoon's full-blown victory party.
"Quite a celebration you got there, Typhoon," said Wolf.
"Call me 'Typh'," said Typhoon.
Wolf nodded and smiled in response.
"Yeah, well, life is short. Might as well live it to the max," added Typhoon. "And, we still have some unfinished business to conclude. So, why don't you and your secretary head on over to my party and we can discuss it."
"The name's Carol and I'm his manager," Karen said, annoyance clearly showing on her face.
"Yeah?" Typhoon asked in surprise. "Whatever, baby," he added with a roguish smile.
"Under the circumstances, I don't believe it's a good idea for us to meet face to face, let alone meet at your party," Karen pressed on. "If you can find a more secure line, we can discuss whatever we need to discuss over the vid-phone."
"Na-ah," said Typhoon. "I only do business with people I can touch and smell. But you're right. My party's not a good place to meet - God! What was I thinking? Alright, here's the deal. We meet face-to-face in an hour or it's no deal."
"I'll meet you face-to-face, Typh," said Wolf.
"Good," acknowledged Typh. "Give me your e-mail 'addy' and I'll send you the exact location via encrypted mail in a bit. Decryption password is what I called you, this afternoon, in Coliseum Arena."
"Understood," said Wolf.
"That's my e-mail," said Karen, as her address flashed on Typhoon's vid-phone.
"Well, whatever turns you on, honey. I'll send the mail to your addy instead," said Typh. "See yawl in an hour. And make sure you come along too, 'Miss Manager'."
"Of course," answered Wolf. "Where I go, she goes too."
About an hour later, Wolf and Karen were at a quaint looking Japanese restaurant in a relatively quiet, Asian district, not too far from Coliseum Arena. As planned, Wolf's double Alex had left their apartment building in Wolf's limousine as a way to throw off the paparazzi, and it appeared to have worked. And just to be sure that no paparazzi would be the wiser, Wolf and Karen snuck out by riding in the trunk of Jay's four-wheeled, non-hover craft sports convertible.
Typhoon was late.
"Where is he?" Wolf grumbled. "Are we at the right place?"
"Relax," said Karen. "We're at the right place."
"Is he being, what was that term, 'fashionably late'?" asked Wolf.
"Perhaps," replied Karen. "Maybe it's his way of showing who's boss - 'I can waste your time, you don't waste mine'."
Just then, the curtains that covered the entrance to their private dining area in the Japanese restaurant parted and entered Typhoon who was accompanied by a stunningly beautiful woman.
"Well, I wouldn't put it that way exactly," said Typhoon. "But, yeah, you're right. I'm the boss."
Signalling to his bodyguards, Typhoon indicated to them that the other guests in the restaurant were to be made to leave. Politely, they started asking them to, and although they appeared courteous, there was no mistaking that Typhoon's bodyguards would resort to force if any of the other guests refused leave.
"My apologies for being late," said Typhoon as he shook hands with Wolf and then with Karen. "I drank a little too much at the party and needed to refresh before coming here. This is Angelina and she is my secretary."
"Nice to meet you," said Wolf as he shook Angelina's hand.
"The pleasure is all mine," Angelina replied with an alluring smile.
"Hi," said Karen, as she shook Angelina's hand. "I'm Grinner's manager, Carol," she added, with a subtle edge of dislike toward Angelina in her voice.
"A pleasure, I'm sure," said Angelina with a smile, but for Karen, it was saccharine sweet.
"Alright, let's get straight to it," Typhoon began as he took his seat across the knee-high table where Wolf and Karen were seated. "I won't beat around the bush. I'm always on the lookout for fresh talent, especially those as fiery as Grinner here."
"Thanks," said Wolf, in response to Typhoon's compliment.
"Together, we'll get all the way to the grand finals," Typhoon continued. "But with me as the champ," added Typhoon with a strong emphasis on champ.
"Hmmm..." said Karen, sounding somewhat sceptical.
"I know it sounds arrogant, but being champ is more than just about being good at piloting a Mech," added Typhoon. "There's a lot of showmanship involved and in my camp, I'm the man."
"He's got media people eating out of his hands, he's on all but the most belligerent talk shows held on the infotainment grids, and if he wanted to, he could launch a character assassination campaign against anyone with a snap and succeed," added Angelina, proudly.
"I didn't realise you were the sort to let your 'secretary' speak for you, Typh," said Karen, snidely.
"Angelina's no ordinary secretary," Typhoon responded with a confident smile. "Why? I wouldn't be here if it weren't for the many things Angelina has done in the interest of my success." And with that, Typhoon reached for Angelina's hand and gave it an assuring squeeze. "Getting back to my point," he continued, "I've no doubt that Grinner, here, will be able to emulate my success story, but it's not gonna happen any time soon. It takes a lot of experience and good mentoring."
"Do you have a mentor, Grinner?" asked Angelina, seemingly out of curiosity.
"Emm...," Wolf began to reply.
"And Carol," Angelina pressed on, "I've never seen or heard of you before. What make's you such an expert at creating champs out of newcomers to the business?"
When Karen did not reply, "Look," Typhoon interjected. "We, Angelina and me, are better at this. Think of the things you can learn so that you, Grinner, will be the next champ, after I retire of course."
"We want 50 percent of all your official Solaris arena winnings," said Karen without ceremony.
"Oh-ho! Ho!" laughed Typhoon, amused.
"No way," said Angelina.
"If I give Grinner 50 percent, what do I pay everyone else?" asked Typhoon. "And what do I pay me?"
"Whatever else you got riding on the side," replied Karen. And that seemed to give both Typhoon and Angelina reason to pause and consider.
"Come on," said Karen. "I may be new to the business, but I'm not an idiot. Solaris is more than just about winning in the arenas. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you get a hell of a lot more from your 'side-investments' than you do from all your match winnings put together."
"Huh!" snorted Typhoon, but he didn't have anything else to add and neither did Angelina.
"Think of it as a partnership," said Karen further.
"No," responded Typhoon. "I don't believe in partnerships. Grinner works for me or NO DEAL."
"I may not be your equal in this sports entertainment business," said Wolf, finally speaking up. "But from one Mech pilot to another, out there in the arena, you know I am your equal. It is that feeling you get when you meet a worthy opponent. That is why you did not kill me and, instead, 'legged' me. Am I correct?"
Typhoon hesitated before replying. Maybe it was the truth in what Wolf said or may be it was the way Wolf fell out of character when he stopped using contractions, and thereby became too Clan-like in his speech for Typhoon's liking. Whatever it was, it seemed to make Typhoon appear less sure of himself.
"Good help is hard to come by these days," Typhoon began to say. "I'll give you 30 percent."
"45 percent," Karen countered.
"35 percent. Take it or leave it," said Typhoon.
"40 percent or we'll be negotiating with your rival," Wolf countered. "They've already made us an offer."
Typhoon flashed a roguish smile in response and said, "I don't like threats, especially those that come from noobs."
"See if I care," said Wolf.
"See if you can walk out of here alive," said Typh with an angry edge to his voice.
Hearing that, Wolf got up slowly and said, "I should say the same thing to you."
Calmly, Typhoon got up too and starred down at Wolf, as he was about 10 inches taller. "I try to make it a point not to fight in a place like this, but if you insist."
"Boys, please," pleaded Angelina as charmingly as she could. "My darling Typhoon, you cannot afford to get hurt. We need you 100 percent before your next match. And Grinner, I don't think you really wanna get into a fight with him. Typhoon had been in a different kind of blood-sport before Solaris, if you know what I mean."
Neither Wolf nor Typh said anything in response, and the silence between them stretched.
"Oh, what the hell," said Typhoon, finally easing the tension in the private dining area. "You got your 40 percent... provided you throw Miss Manager, here, in the deal as well," he continued as he sat down into his seat again.
Puzzled, Wolf turned to look at Karen and noticed the surprised-bordering-on-amused expression on her face. He then turned to look at Angelina and saw her mimicking a subtle kiss in the direction of Karen. "I don't understand," Wolf said. "You want her to be your manager, too?"
"Oh, no. Of course not. I'm my own manager," replied Typhoon. "I just want her to spend some 'quality' time with me and Angelina."
"No," Wolf said immediately. "She's not for bargaining."
"Why? Is she your gal?" asked Typhoon. "Well, you can come, too, if you're into that sorta thing."
"I said NO!" Wolf shouted.
"Ok! Ok!" Typhoon conceded. "She's your gal. I can respect that. Kinda ol' fashion, but I can respect that. Now, sit down and let's eat."
Hearing that, Wolf sat down, slowly.
"Man, you drive a hard bargain," Typhoon continued. "And you got balls."
"Damn straight," said Wolf, still a little sore.
"Eat, drink, celebrate," said Typhoon with his roguish smile, unperturbed. "Grand Finals here we come."
About two hours later, all four of them ate, drank and said all that they cared to. So, they shook hands on a done deal and left the restaurant.
Typhoon and Angelina left with their entourage of bodyguards in a convoy of gleaming black hover limousines, leaving Wolf and Karen to go home with Jay, who had been waiting patiently in his sports convertible.
Travelling in a convoy was quite a feat considering that, under ordinary circumstance, it was sure to attract a swarm of paparazzi, but there was none in sight. It showed that Typhoon was a real player; that he really knew his game.
"So, how did it go," said Jay as both Wolf and Karen approached his parked car.
"It went well, considering," said Karen.
"What an arrogant bastard," said Wolf.
"Takes one to know one," said Karen.
"What?" asked Wolf, a little miffed.
"I think I'll walk home," said Karen, ignoring the question.
"Is it safe?" asked Wolf.
Karen rolled her eyes and walked off.
Jay started his car and said to Wolf, "Coming?"
"Carol, wait up!" Wolf called out to Karen, as he quickly went after her.
"I guess not," said Jay, as he drove off.
"Karen," said Wolf, as he caught up with her. "What's wrong with you?"
"What's wrong with me?" she asked right back, angrily. "You MechWarriors are all a bunch of condescending bastards," she said while continuing to walk at a fast pace.
"What?" asked Wolf, puzzled. "What did I say?"
"I got this assignment because I'm good at what I do," Karen explained. "You can at least respect that."
"I don't understand," said Wolf.
"You should have left the negotiations to me," she stressed but without raising her voice, so that no one would overhear. "You nearly blew it entirely for us in there. What was that bit about talking like a Clanner, huh? Who the hell told you that you could step out of character?"
"I, uh...", muttered Wolf as the realisation of the extent of his errors dawned upon him.
"What were you thinking?" asked Karen.
"I..., I thought I was helping," answered Wolf in earnest.
"Well, if you really want to help, next time, you follow my lead," said Karen, angrily. "We had a chance at gathering greater intelligence on Typhoon's operations and you blew it."
"I'm sorry, am I getting this right? You mean to say, you would have accepted the invitation to spend some 'quality time' with that jackass and his bimbo girlfriend?" asked Wolf in surprised annoyance.
"If this mission required it, then I would have," said Karen, coolly. "It's part of my job. It's what I do. And what do you care anyway? I'm not your Jen."
"Excuse me?" asked Wolf defensively.
Karen didn't respond and just kept walking.
"What has Jen got to do with all this?" Wolf pressed on.
"Huh!" Karen snorted. "Please, each time you look at me, your eyes light up. But then, it's not me you're really looking at is it?"
Wolf did not reply. He was not sure he wanted to pursue this line of argument anymore.
"You also see me as being lesser then Jen," Karen said further. "And I find that insulting to the core. I don't need your damn protection; not from Typhoon, not from that bisexual, Angelina."
"You're wrong," said Wolf. "I see you for you. I admit that I see Jen in you, too. And that's partly why I feel a strong sense of attraction toward you. But I also see the part of you that's so different from Jen."
"Tell me, would you mollycoddle Jen and protect her from every difficult combat situation?" asked Karen.
"No," answered Wolf, unequivocally. "Jen is a fine warrior. She can handle herself in the most difficult of battle situations."
"So, I'm lesser than Jen," stated Karen.
"No," answered Wolf. "You have your own strengths...."
"Then why do you disrespect me?!" asked Karen angrily.
"I'm sorry," Wolf said. "I guess...," Wolf continued but didn't finish.
"You guess what?" Karen asked, annoyed.
With a heavy sigh, Wolf replied, "I guess I was... jealous, possessive...."
Hearing that, Karen's expression brightened up with surprise and delight. She started giggling and then broke into laughter.
"What?" asked Wolf with a smile. "What's so funny?"
Karen stopped laughing, took Wolf's hand and pulled him closer. She hugged him, pressing her cheek to his and whispered, "We're being followed. No... don't let go. Hug me tighter and smile."
"Where? How many?" asked Wolf with a smiling face, disguising his surprise.
"About 50 metres behind us; two, maybe three," answered Karen, lovingly.
"Do we evade, or pursue?" asked Wolf, happily.
"Ambush and subdue," said Karen with a wide smile. She then pushed herself away from Wolf but continued to hold his hand in hers. Playfully, she pulled him along as she began to run.
Wolf ran with her and began laughing boyishly.
Quickly, they turned a corner and into an alley between two low-rise building blocks. Hiding in the shadows, they looked for a place to set up their ambush. Wolf took cover behind a smelly garbage tipper truck and Karen took cover behind wooden crates across from the tipper truck. And about a minute later, they heard the footfalls of at least two people running in pursuit of them. Reaching the entrance to the alley, the pursuers stopped running.
"Spread out," said one of them.
The rear-end of the truck faced the entrance to the alley. So, Wolf hung from the front of the truck, lifting his feet off the ground so that anyone looking under the truck would not detect Wolf. Karen ducked lower behind the wooden crates.
When one of the pursuers came close enough, Wolf attacked. He moved in quickly, ducked reflexively to avoid a roundhouse punch, followed through with a right hook to the man's midriff, a left punch to the jaw, and with a low 360 degree leg sweep, Wolf brought him to the ground on his back with a thud. Before the man could get back on his feet, Wolf got up and gave a hard frontal kick to his side, bringing him down again and rolling onto his back in pain.
Wolf then heard a loud crack and turned quickly in response, in time to see the second pursuer falling to the ground after having been struck by Karen on the head from behind with a wooden crate. Quickly, Karen subdued him further by putting her right knee on his spine and pulling his head back by his hair with both hands, drawing an agonised cry from the second pursuer. She then drew out a evil looking dagger from the small of her back with her right hand and placed its razor sharp edge under the man's throat, drawing some blood.
Turning around again, Wolf saw that the man he brought down earlier was clambering to his feet with what looked like a wriggly-looking keris knife in his left hand. When he finally regained his feet, he said, "Come on! Come on!" as though to beckon Wolf to fight him further.
With a confident smile, Wolf drew an auto-pistol from the small of his back and levelled it squarely at the man. In response, the man dropped his keris knife and put both hands in the air, signalling submission.
"On your knees," said Wolf.
The man complied.
"Now, lie on your face with your hands behind your back," instructed Wolf further.
Again, the man complied.
"Who are you and why are you following us?" Karen asked the man she subdued.
"Ma... Ma'am," he stammered. "We... we work for the... GladiatorX entertainment grid. We got a tip that you and Grinner Wolf were in the Asian district," he explained seemingly in earnest. "And... argg!" he groaned as Karen pulled his head back further and applied pressure on the dagger.
"You'd better be telling the truth," Karen warned menacingly.
"He is!" shouted the other man in alarm. "I swear, we both work for the GladiatorX entertainment grid."
"God damn, freaking paparazzi!" exclaimed Wolf as he moved in on the man and kneeled on the small of his back, pinning the man's hands down in the process. Transferring his auto-pistol to his left hand, he began searching the man for weapons and vid-cams. Wolf did not find any weapons but found two vid-cams.
"Any more?" Wolf asked.
"No," answered the man, as he grit his teeth in pain.
"What about you?" Karen asked the man she subdued.
"My pants pocket," he answered.
Karen got off him and said, "Get up. And strip."
The man hastily complied.
"You too," said Wolf, to the man he subdued and got off his back.
When the two men were butt naked, "Kick your clothes over to me," Karen instructed.
They complied.
Karen then checked every pocket, every possible place of concealment on their garments, and retrieved nothing more than two wallets, two identity tags that showed the two as being employees of GladitorX and a vid-cam. Karen retrieved the memory chips of all three vid-cams and tossed the vid-cams at the feet of the two paparazzi. Looking over the video footage and still pictures recorded on the memory chips using her wrist computer, she saw that the paparazzi had arrived a little after Typhoon had left with his entourage.
She then said, "If you guys want intimate footage or pictures of me and Grinner, call my PR office." She then walked up to them, waved her evil looking dagger in their faces and said, "If I ever catch you sneaking up on us again...."
"No ma'am," said the two paparazzi in unison. "We won't!"
"Go on, get out of here," Karen said.
Quickly, the two gathered their stuff and ran out of the alley.
When they were gone, Karen looked at Wolf and began to laugh.
Wolf only smiled.
"That was exhilarating," declared Karen.
"Yeah," said Wolf, unenthused. "We showed them, huh?"
Sensing that Wolf was not quite over their earlier conversation, Karen asked in earnest, "Well, what's eating you?"
"Nothing," replied Wolf, not wanting to get into it. "Let's get back to the apartment. It's been a long day. I'm... tired."
"Well, let me call for a hover-cab," said Karen as she brought up the location map on her wrist computer to verify where they were using global positioning satellite (GPS) system and made the call for the hover-cab.
Leisurely, both Karen and Wolf walked out of the alley to wait for their hover-cab. And for a while, neither said anything. Then Karen finally said, "I appreciate what you did back there."
"Huh? Back there in the alley?" asked Wolf, puzzled, bordering on annoyed. "That was nothing."
"No," said Karen. "I meant, back there in the Japanese restaurant. You stood up for me. Although I didn't think it was the best course of action, I understand now why you did it and, in hindsight, I... I appreciate it."
Hearing that, Wolf's enthusiasm returned. He came closer to Karen, took her hand in his and gave her a gentle kiss on her lips. Karen responded by wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him back passionately.
Unbeknownst to them, they were being watched and their actions recorded on vid-cam by a third paparazzi.
The next day, the holo-vid news and entertainment grids were rife with excitement over how a newcomer Solaris gladiator and his lover beat up on two paparazzi for stumbling upon them making out in an alley in the Asian district. Although there was no film footage of the deed itself, there was footage of the two paparazzi running butt naked for their lives and, a moment later, the two "lovers" walking out of the alley calmly and then kissing each other passionately. Many of the viewers called in to say that the paparazzi deserved what they got because they had gone too far. Others thought that while the paparazzi could be annoying, they were just doing their jobs for the benefit of viewers' entertainment; that they should be compensated for having been hurt in the process. No matter the consensus, no charges were brought against either Wolf or Karen by the local police authorities for "lack of evidence". And all the excitement over the incident quickly died down.
Five days later, Wolf was back at Coliseum Arena prepping for the Medium Class Mech match that was about to take place. And unlike for the Light Mech match he partook in, the Mech Karen acquired this time round was a reasonably well-maintained Ryoken or Storm Crow. Its cockpit had the familiar smell of burnt insulation mixed with thick smelling human perspiration; the sort that could only have developed over years of use. It meant that the Ryoken was not a Mech that had just came off a production line, in that it has had its quirks worked out from years or even decades of service. It also meant that the Ryoken was not a recent Arena or battlefield salvage and, hence, should not have any of the quirks associated with recently salvaged Mechs.
In fact, Wolf felt excitement grow in him in anticipation of Mech combat in one of his favourite Omni-Mech variants. Time and again, he had proven the old adage that it was not the Mech tonnage that really determined the course of battle, it was the MechWarrior. For, Wolf had triumphed over warriors in heavier chasses, including those in Assault class Mechs, when piloting the Ryoken. So, he was eager to mete out devastation against other Solaris gladiators piloting Mech variants of the same weight or lighter. The only thing that was really holding Wolf back was his agreement with Typhoon, in that Typhoon's Ryoken would be the last Mech left standing.
"Good hunting," said Karen, in customary Dreaded Legion fashion.
Wolf merely smiled in response, knowing that it was one of Karen's ways of being coy about their true identities.
"And try not to make the boss look so bad," reminded Karen.
"Huh!" snorted Wolf. "I'll do my best."
And he meant it. Wolf and Typhoon fought side-by-side, one complementing the other. Wolf had purposely chosen a support configuration for his Ryoken which was 2xClan LRM 20, 1xClan LRM 15, 2xClan ER large lasers and jump-jets. And with that, he would soften enemy targets up, so that Typhoon, whose Ryoken was equipped with 4xClan ER large lasers and jump-jets, could go for the kill. It was only when the only few Mechs left standing were those that were on their team, did Wolf leave Typhoon's side.
In his exuberant state of mind, Typhoon took it to mean that Wolf was giving way to him to win big. But in truth, Wolf was preparing himself for when Typhoon would turn his weapons on him.
"Alright, it's just the two of us now, Grinner," said Typhoon, declaring the obvious over their tight-beam communications system. "Come out so that I can leg yuh."
"Aww, boss. You're such a big star, let's give the spectators something to really remember you by, today," Wolf responded.
"What?" Typhoon asked, surprised. "What do you mean?"
"Just a little one-on-one to see who's the better pilot," said Wolf.
"Son of a...," Typhoon cursed. "We had a deal!"
"Hey, boss, I'll still let you win," assured Wolf. "I just won't make it so easy on you."
At that point, Wolf had the advantage of extra armour and weaponry because, when all the opposing campers had been defeated, Wolf left Typhoon's side and provided no cover fire whatsoever. While this allowed Typhoon's kill score to go up, Typhoon still had to deal with "nominal" resistance, and that caused him lose armour and an ER large laser.
Wolf held back using his Clan LRM 15 for this very moment. Coming out from behind the cover of a reinforced arch, Wolf triggered his Ryoken's jump-jets, shot Typhoon's Ryoken's centre torso thereby throwing Typhoon's aim off, obtained target lock for his missiles and let all his LRMs rip. The effect was devastating. Typhoon's already damaged Ryoken lost its left arm completely, leaving Typhoon with only 2 ER large lasers.
"Oooh, the Champ suffers devastating damage!" Wolf added to the Arena's live commentary over the tight-beam com channel between Typhoon and himself. "Will he survive another onslaught from the dark horse Grinner Wolf?"
"That's what they're calling you, ain't it," asked Typhoon. "And you like it."
Triggering his jump-jets, Typhoon turned the tables on Wolf by shooting a fraction of a second faster, thereby throwing Wolf's aim off. And just as Wolf obtained target lock for his missiles and fired his LRMs off, Typhoon moved his Ryoken behind a reinforced arch.
"Aww, what a waste of missiles," taunted Typhoon.
"A lot more where that came from, I assure you," responded Wolf, when in truth, Wolf had run out of ammo for his dual Clan LRM 20 launchers. And while he still had lots of ammo for his Clan LRM 15 launcher, it was hardly as effective as the Clan LRM 20 ones.
"You sure?" asked Typhoon, as he came out into the open to shoot at Wolf again. And again, Typhoon was a fraction of a second faster than Wolf. His shot cut through Wolf's Ryoken's leg armour, severing myomers and nearly incapacitating the Mech, while Wolf's shot went wide. And although Wolf had managed to gain target lock and fired his missiles, Typhoon managed to get back behind cover before any of the missiles reached him.
"Neh neh neh neh, neh neh, neh neh, you can't touch this," Typhoon sang out an ancient Terran classical song which, for some unknown reason, was back in vogue on Solaris VII. But while he wanted to sound coy and annoying, Typhoon was actually seething mad. And Wolf could sense it.
"Oh, yes I can," Wolf replied with cool confidence. But Wolf was in trouble. With his Ryoken's leg damaged, he would not be able to get back behind cover in time and Typhoon had proven to be faster at "the draw". So, just as Typhoon came out from behind cover again, Wolf triggered his jump-jets as a way to throw Typhoon's aim off. However, he held back from coring Typhoon's Ryoken with his ER large lasers and possibly destroying it, and braced for Typhoon's killing shot.
It came with a blinding flash. Then there was a horrible crash and Wolf blacked out as a result.
The next thing he knew, he was on a bed in what looked like the Coliseum Arena infirmary with Karen by his bedside, staring intently at him. Concern was clearly on her face.
"What the hell...?" Wolf croaked.
"Yeah, what the hell," Karen mocked, annoyance replacing her earlier concerned expression. "What were you thinking?"
"I..." Wolf began to say, as he struggled to get up.
"No, don't get up," Karen urged gently, as she placed a hand on his chest to stop Wolf from getting up. "You've suffered a massive concussion."
"How...?" Wolf asked, but could not finish his sentence as his mind was still whirling in confusion.
"Your cockpit shield cracked because of a 'headshot' from Typhoon. And when your Mech landed, its leg gave way. It took a tumble and ended feet upwards, crushing the cockpit section under its weight," Karen explained, in a matter of fact sort of way. "See your neuro-helmet over there?" Karen said further, as she pointed to a nearby medical equipment stand.
"By Kerensky...," Wolf exclaimed weakly, as he saw that it was cracked and bloodied.
"We thought you were dead for sure," said Typhoon, surprising Wolf with his presence in the process.
Slowly, Wolf turned his head to look at Typhoon and saw him smiling his roughish smile.
"Yeah, well, you won't get rid of me that easily," said Wolf in a weak but earnest attempt at bantering.
"And you gave the Coliseum Arena spectators and entertainment-grid viewers something to remember alright," continued Typhoon. "Thanks to your nutcase of a stunt."
"How much?" Wolf asked
"How much what?" Typhoon asked right back.
"How much did our popularity ratings go up by?" Wolf strained to clarify.
"Huh!" Typhoon snorted in disbelief. "Enough to make us the hottest Coliseum Arena-based act for Solaris VII in over four decades. But somehow, I don't think popularity ratings had been the reason why you did what you did out there." And with that, Typhoon turned to leave. "O, yeah. There's definitely something else going on here," said Typhoon as a parting shot.
After Typhoon was gone, Karen said, "He's right."
"Am I that transparent?" Wolf asked in a self-amused sort of way.
"Well..., yes," replied Karen.
"I was never trained to take a fall deliberately in a fight," said Wolf. "It... it just didn't seem right."
Karen rolled her eyes in response. "What are you? An idealist or a pragmatist?" she then asked.
"A bit of both?" Wolf tendered.
"Get some rest," Karen said. "The doctors may have patched you up, but from the looks of it, you're in no condition to attend tonight's party."
"What party?" Wolf asked.
"Typhoon's victory party, of course," Karen replied. "Everyone, whether ally or enemy, is invited."
"Huh?" Wolf asked, surprised.
"It's customary for the victors of the Medium Mech matches to throw a party before proceeding to the Heavy Mech matches," Karen explained.
"A good opportunity to gather 'greater intelligence'?" asked Wolf.
"I suppose," Karen said with a shrug.
"Then count me in," said Wolf. "Just let me get some sleep first...."
"You don't have to go," Karen assured.
"But I want to," responded Wolf.
Karen sighed audibly and then said, "I'll get Jay to bring a change of clothes and pick you up."
"Uh-huh," said Wolf as he shut his eyes. He felt so drowsy all of a sudden.
Several hours later, "Grinner? Grinner?" said a voice Wolf recognised vaguely.
"I said let me sleep first," Wolf replied.
"Yeah, well, you'll miss the party," Jay said. Turning to a medical technician, Jay then asked, "Are you sure he's fit to leave?"
"Yes," affirmed the med-tech with a smile. "The medical nano-bots have done their work. Grinner Wolf should be almost good as new, but he shouldn't do anything rigorous, at least for a day or two."
"Alright then," said Jay. "So, what you wanna do, Grinner? Grinner?"
"Huh? Ok, I'm up. Let's go.... Where're my clothes?" Wolf rambled, as he tried to get up. He still looked weak.
"Easy...," coaxed Jay.
"I'm... I'm ok," Wolf assured. "I just need to pee first, clear the cobwebs in my head, get dressed and we're off."
About forty five minutes later, Wolf and Jay arrived at Typhoon's victory party. It was being co-hosted by the other three victors of the Medium-Mech matches and was being held at a sleazy looking fight club in an Italian district not too far from the Asian district. It was the sort of thing that happened seemingly without much warning or with haphazard planning. In truth, though, the party had the tightest security customary of high-profile occasions.
Everyone, including the show-girls and other working girls and boys, received a thorough background check, albeit some, like Wolf and other high profile celebrities with money to hide their true identities were exempted. In short, it was as safe as things could get on Solaris VII.
Personal bodyguards could be seen almost everywhere and while they appeared to blend in naturally with all the guests and wild women as well as men hired to entertain guests, the way each of them kept a sharp eye on almost everything that was happening around them gave them away easily enough.
And at the centre of the fight club was what looked like a straight-up boxing ring, except that the fighters were using kick boxing techniques, among other things.
"Raise your arms please," a security officer manning the main entrance security checkpoint prompted Wolf, as he ran a metal detector over Wolf's body.
Wolf complied.
When the detector ran over the left side of Wolf's head, it squealed.
"I have metallic clips to help hold my fractured skull together," declared Wolf.
The security officer looked suspicious. "Please step into the scanning chamber," he motioned.
"What? You think I have a bomb in my head?" Wolf asked in disbelief.
"I'm sorry, sir," the security officer said. "It's procedure."
Wolf did as he was told. Half a minute later, he was given the "all-clear" and proceeded to his reserved table by the boxing ring along with Jay. Wolf was expecting to see Karen sitting at the table, waiting for him to arrive, but to his disappointment, Karen was nowhere to be seen. Instead, seated at the table were a group of eager-looking, scantily clad women.
"Where's Carol?" Wolf asked Jay.
"Uh... didn't she tell you? She wasn't coming," replied Jay as he took two of the women into his arms and sat down with them.
Wolf sat down as well but motioned to the rest of the working girls to lay off. They respectfully complied.
"You know where she is?" Wolf asked Jay, but before Jay could answer, Typhoon's voice boomed over the PA system.
"YEEHAAW!! WELCOME ONE AND ALL. IT FEELS GREAT TO BE BACK. DIDN'T I TELL YAWL THAT I'LL BE BACK TWICE AS STRONG?!" said Typhoon, prompting cheer and applause from his supporters as well as a loud, sustained "boo!" from those who supported his rivals. He was speaking from his table and, with his hands raised proudly in the air, Typhoon walked toward the boxing ring and then climbed into it.
He then pranced about proudly in the ring, soliciting further cheer, applause and loud booing.
"I KNOW, I KNOW. YAWL LOVE ME," Typhoon continued, unperturbed, but then the booing got louder. So, he conceded, "WELL, MAYBE NOT ALL OF YOU," which drew laughter and some applause.
"SO, TO MY ARDENT SUPPORTERS, I THANK YOU FROM THE VERY BOTTOM MY HEART. TO MY NOT-SO-ARDENT SUPPORTERS, I THANK YOU FROM THE BOTTOM... OF MY BOTTOM," Typhoon continued and with that, he about-faced and bowed deep, showing off his bottom to the audience, drawing further laughter and cheer. "AND TO MY DETRACTORS, I LAY DOWN THIS CHALLENGE. I KNOW WE'RE SUPPOSED TO KEEP THINGS CIVIL AND FRIENDLY TONIGHT - WE HAVE TO BE CAREFUL OF INJURY AFTER ALL. BUT LET'S HAVE A BIT OF FUN. LET'S PLAY HIT-MY-BEAUTIFUL-FACE-YOU-WIN. THE RULES ARE SIMPLE. THE ONLY HITS THAT COUNT ARE THOSE THAT GO TO THE FACE. YOU ONLY NEED THREE HITS TO WIN. BUT YOU GOTTA PAY 20,000 C-BILLS UP FRONT. ONE-ON-ONE. WINNER STAYS IN THE RING."
Typhoon then looked around the boxing ring and spotted Wolf. "AAAH, DARK HORSE GRINNER WOLF. GLAD YOU COULD MAKE IT TONIGHT," he said. "SO, HOW ABOUT IT, GRINNER? BE THE FIRST TO KNOCK ME OUTTA THE RING."
Wolf merely shook his head and kept an impassioned look on his face.
"NO? THAT'S OK. HE'S STILL RECOVERING FROM HIS DUMB-ASS STUNT EARLIER TODAY," Typhoon remarked, drawing laughter, cheer and even some applause from the crowd.
"I'll take you on!" shouted a big, tall, ebony skinned man, whom Wolf recognised as, possibly, a victor for one of the other Medium Mech matches in Coliseum Arena. The crowd became silent at first and then burst into a flurry of activity as people started shouting their bets.
"WELL, WELL. CHARLIE XAVIER. COME ON UP HERE, DUDE," Typhoon invited.
When Xavier reached the ring side, he climbed up and over the ropes with an agility that belied his size. He then removed his jacket, tossed it aside and flexed his muscles in the general direction of the crowed.
"OK, OK. THAT'S ENOUGH," Typhoon said. "OR YOU'LL GET HERNIA."
"Not in your lifetime," Xavier countered. "Let's get on with it, Typh."
"Alrightie," acknowledged Typhoon, as he tossed the microphone aside.
"Hah!!" Xavier shouted as he feinted a charge.
Typhoon reacted instinctively but kept his cool and his smile, and merely danced to the side. He then manoeuvred in such a way that Xavier would come to the centre of ring.
Although the rules dictated that a fighter only needed to hit his opponent's face three times, they do not prohibit either fighters from getting really nasty. So, the fight still had serious implications for both Typhoon and Xavier.
"Show me what you got, big man," urged Typhoon, as he kept dancing lightly around Xavier.
"You mean like this?!" shouted Xavier as moved forward and struck out with a back fist with the right hand but missed, followed through with a square punch to the nose with the left and missed also, and then moved in further to finally connect with Typhoon's left temple with his right elbow. All the while, his muscles were rippling. And for someone his height and weight, Xavier was extremely fast.
Typhoon was knocked to the canvas and landed on all-fours, his eyes looking dazed. Shaking his head to clear his vision, Typhoon slowly got up.
Xavier had his back turned, his arms raised proudly as he displayed the victory sign with both hands. As a result, many in the crowd cheered wildly even more, while others booed louder.
Sensing that Typhoon was back on his feet, Xavier turned around slowly to face Typhoon. "More?" he asked.
"Oh, yeah, definitely," said Typhoon with a roughish smile, as he began to dance again. And this time round, Typhoon did not wait for Xavier to make the first move. He moved in and kicked Xavier's left shin with his right leg, followed through with the same leg to kick Xavier in the face, and missed because Xavier leaned back, but finally connected with a reverse crescent kick with the left leg to Xavier's jaw.
Xavier was knocked backwards against the ropes but did not go down. And it was Typhoon's turn to raise his hands proudly, showing the double victory sign.
"That was cheap," Xavier said, as he regained his balance and footing.
"Yes, it was," Typhoon agreed with a wide, annoying smile.
Enraged, Xavier charged again. Typhoon countered with a jumping back thrust, but while the kick connected squarely against Xavier's midriff, it only slowed the ebony muscle man for a fraction of a second. Xavier pressed on and followed through with a round house punch, which Typhoon dodged instinctively by ducking a little, but quickly connected with a back fist to Typhoon's nose with his right hand and an open left palm power-assisted shove to the midriff, throwing Typhoon onto his back.
"Aww, damn. You broke my nose," Typhoon said, as he squinted from the pain and held the sides of his nose with both hands. Blood was flowing freely from Typhoon's nose.
"You ready to give up?" Xavier asked, while standing directly in front of Typhoon but at a respectful distance, just in case.
"You kidding me?" Typhoon asked, coyly. "I'm just getting started." And with that declaration, Typhoon got into a crouching position, launched into a summersault, and landed a chopping kick with his right foot squarely on Xavier's nose.
"Now we're even," Typhoon declared as he landed back on his feet. And with near-lightning speed, he connected a jumping reverse turning kick with his left leg squarely on Xavier's jaw, throwing the big man into a spin and smack into the canvas.
"And now I win," Typhoon declared as he landed lightly on his feet.
The crowd went wild as moneys changed hands.
Retrieving the microphone he tossed aside earlier, Typhoon then said over the PA system, "RIGHT! WHO'S NEXT?!" And for a while Typhoon's eyes connected with Wolf's. And something about Wolf's look made Typhoon cringe inwardly, if only a little.
Quickly, Wolf got up to leave.
"Where're you going?" Jay asked, concerned.
"I need to see Carol," Wolf said as he stopped in his tracks. "You know where she is, don't you?"
Jay looked reluctant to tell Wolf, but after a moment's hesitation, "She's over at the Coliseum Arena simulator bays," he said.
"Thank you," and with that, Wolf proceeded to the main exit. 'What is she doing there?' Wolf wondered.
Upon exiting the fight club, Wolf hailed a hover-cab. The flashes of light coming from the paparazzi's cameras were annoying but were inconsequential. Wolf got into the cab and directed its driver to head to the Coliseum Arena.
"100 C-bills for you if you manage to lose the paparazzi on our tail," said Wolf to the driver.
"You got it, man," he replied with enthusiasm.
Twenty minutes later, Wolf paid the driver the C-bills he promised. Although Wolf could have arrived earlier, the hover-cab had taken winding routes and doubled back a few times to shake off the paparazzi.
Wolf then headed straight for the Coliseum Arena's simulator bays. When he got there, he bribed a technician to let him "cut-queue" and entered the same battle simulation that Karen was participating in.
Wolf "spawned" about 1100 metres away from Karen in an Atlas equipped with advanced electronic counter measures (ECM) and Beagle Active Probe (BAP). And since Karen was in a Dire Wolf, which probably did not have BAP, Wolf knew that Karen did not detect him as he came in. So, he throttled up to close the distance between their Mechs.
Karen was locked in a furious duel against a 90 ton Mauler which appeared to be armed to the teeth with multiple Clan Ultra AC2, at least 2 ER large lasers and at least one Clan LRM launcher. Karen struggled to shoot the Mauler accurately with her own ER lasers but was being rocked about by the Mauler's CUAC2s, ER lasers and LRMs. The most she could do was take a wild shot, attain missile lock, fire off her missiles and run back behind the cover of a rock out-cropping by the water's edge.
'Whoever is piloting the Mauler, he is good,' Wolf thought to himself. He also became more curious to see how good Karen really was. So, Wolf throttled down and kept within the effective range of his Atlas' ECM.
And then Karen disappeared from radar.
"Smart girl," Wolf remarked to himself as he realised that Karen had gone radar-passive in order to throw off the Mauler pilot. Although she would not be able to attain missile lock, she would gain a slight advantage by way of surprise.
Wolf turned off his radar as well in order to move in closer for a clearer visual and saw Karen reversing sideways from behind the protective cover of the rock outcropping, firing her ER large lasers at the Mauler, and quickly moving back behind cover. And fortunately for Karen, the Mauler pilot reacted badly, in that almost all his shots went wild.
Karen repeated her manoeuvre and again she scored without suffering from much return fire.
"It won't work for the third time," Wolf commented aloud to himself, and was relieved to see Karen moving off to flank the Mauler to the right.
"Yes, that's the way," said Wolf.
The Mauler pilot was also flanking right in anticipation of Karen performing her sniping manoeuvre for the third time, but that brought him well into the open and highly vulnerable from Karen's new position. With cool confidence, Karen opened fire, turned her radar back on in order to attain missile lock and fired off her LRMs when target lock was achieved.
The Mauler was mauled as a result and its return fire was paltry, as it had lost many of its weapons.
When Karen's weapons cycled, she fired them all, and the Mauler was destroyed.
Opening a tight-beam com channel to Karen, Wolf said, "Alpha T1 to Alpha C1." T1 and C1 were the Dreaded Legion Cadet Corps designations for a trainer and his cadet, respectively, in the field. "Nice shooting, cadet."
Karen's response was cold. "This is a private training session, MechWarrior Wolf," she said.
"My apologies," Wolf tendered. "But there's something urgent I need to speak with you about."
"You could've simply buzzed me from the tech monitoring station," Karen responded, annoyed.
"Yes, I could, but I was also curious to see how good you were in the cockpit," Wolf explained.
No response. And then Karen's Dire Wolf disappeared from view, obviously because she had disengaged from the simulation. Wolf followed suit and exited his simulator cockpit, in time to see Karen storming off toward the simulator bays' main exit.
"Carol, wait up!" Wolf shouted. "Carol!" Wolf shouted again as he ran after her.
"Leave me alone!" Karen shouted back as she turned around to face Wolf but kept moving toward the exit.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Wolf asked as he caught up with her.
Karen did not answer. She merely turned to face the exit again and kept walking briskly. Anger showed clearly on her face.
"I am not your cadet and you are not my trainer," she finally said. "Do you understand me?"
"Ok...," said Wolf, puzzled. "But there's something more important we need to discuss."
Hearing that, Karen stopped his her tracks and stared down at Wolf. "Well, what is it?" she then prompted.
"Typhoon," Wolf began. "I don't think he's an Inner Sphere warrior, or at least not originally."
"What?" Karen asked, surprised. "How do you know?"
"I know," said Wolf, flatly.
"Let's get back to the apartment, so that we can discuss this properly," Karen said.
Fifteen minutes later, in the safe confines of their apartment, "Alright Wolf, tell me how you know," said Karen to Wolf as she took a seat at the small table in the apartment's kitchen. She took a sip of some mixed fruit juice she had poured for herself earlier and said, "I've been on this guy for nearly a year and there was nothing on this man that hinted he was a Clan spy."
"Typhoon has a penchant for showing off," Wolf began. "And I think it's more than just pride. It's a sense of compulsion brought on by years of Clan indoctrination - never give up, never give in without fighting your hardest."
"You sure?" asked Karen, a little sceptical. "He could just be an arrogant bastard who desperately needs to avoid eating humble pie."
"Well, yes," Wolf concurred. "He's that sort of an arrogant bastard, and I would have left it at that if not for what I saw tonight." Wolf poured himself a cup of hot coffee, took a seat at the small kitchen table across from Karen and continued, "You're an accomplished fighter, Karen. You've seen enough fighting styles to know that there're certain common moves or techniques and there're certain unique ones that are peculiar to only one or two fighting styles."
"Yes," affirmed Karen. "And...?"
"Typhoon employed a style I hadn't seen in a long time," continued Wolf. "It's peculiar to Clan Nova Cat and..."
"And Ice Hellion," Karen finished off for Wolf. "Are you sure?"
"There's no mistaking that summersault chopping kick to the face," said Wolf. "It's difficult enough to execute, and to execute it accurately and with sheer confidence requires over a decade or so of training that starts from childhood. Had Typhoon stuck to the usual acrobatics, I wouldn't have been the wiser. But he's Clan alright. When pushed, he pushes back harder."
Hearing that, Karen quickly began weighing the implications.
"Now, the question is whether he is friend or foe," said Wolf, further. "If he's Nova Cat, we've little to worry about. If he's Ice Hellion...," Wolf trailed off.
"Spies from Crusader Clans have been stepping up their activities to detect where and when the Dreaded Legion would appear in the Inner Sphere," said Karen. "Typhoon could be a sleeper."
"Or not," Wolf countered.
"We'll just have to watch our backs more carefully," said Karen.
"Agreed," said Wolf. And after a moment's pause, Wolf continued, "Now, would you mind explaining to me why you were so mad with me back at the simulator bays?"
"There are certain things that a controller needs to keep from her asset," Karen declared, trying to avoid the issue.
"I think we've gone pass that," said Wolf in reference to their moments of intimacy. "Though not entirely, I'm sure."
Karen merely stared into blank space.
"They denied you entry into Cadet Corps, kicked you off the mainstream Warrior ranks, and now you're angry, bitter," said Wolf.
That got a reaction from Karen. She stared angrily at Wolf and after a while said, "So, tell me, Wolf. From what you saw just now, am I as good as your Jen?"
That made Wolf frown. Then he responded by stating firmly, "First of all, Jen and I said our good-byes a while back. So, she's no longer 'my Jen'."
"Don't avoid the question," Karen countered.
"I won't if you start acknowledging that there's something going on between us that's more than just 'comfort sex' or 'controller-asset' relations," Wolf shot back.
Karen's eyes and face softened as a result. And anger was replaced somewhat by sadness. "Jen was at loggerheads with me right from sibko days," she explained. "At first I didn't understand why. So, I tried getting closer to her by trying to be kind to her when she was down. But she pushed me away and kept on being nasty.... Whenever the opportunity arose, she would choose me as her sparring partner, so that she could beat me into submission over and over. She would duel me in Mech simulator battles to humiliate me and shatter what little confidence I had.... So, one day, I demanded to know why she hated me so.... And you know what she said?"
"What?" asked Wolf, gently.
"I was the embodiment of what she hated in herself," said Karen bitterly, as her eyes glistened with tears. "I was the lesser-Jen," she continued, while she wiped her tears away. "And I guess she was right."
Wolf was about to say something, but Karen cut him off quickly by saying, "Save it, Wolf. I've heard the lecture so many times over, I've memorised it in my head: 'You are not good enough. Live with it. Be thankful that you are pureblood and not freebirth. There is still honour in that. Serve the Dreaded Legion however you can and hope that you die an honourable death anyway, etc, etc'."
It was the same lecture Wolf had heard being given to his sibkins who did not make it all the way to the Cadet Corps because they were simply not good enough or because the quota was full.
Indeed, there was a quota involved and it remained a thorny issue. While candidates may be good generally, they had to strive against each other to avoid suffering the agonising fate of being excluded from Cadet Corps. The purpose, as the argument went, was to ensure that candidates achieved the highest standards right from day one.
However, the peer pressure would often be so intense that some were driven to suicide because of the utter despair they felt or to escape the shame and disappointment of being excluded from Cadet Corps.
And in the case of Jen and Karen, the fact that they looked almost exactly alike drove Jen into venting her frustrations out on Karen.
Fortunately, Wolf's stint with the lower castes had taught him a valuable lesson. It was a lesson that would have eluded him had he not ventured out of the Warrior caste. It was a lesson that had been driven vividly into his mind during the reactor meltdown incident on the Space Urchin Queen.
Quite simply, an individual, whether pureblood or freebirth had the potential to become more than the sum of his or her parts.
"That was not what I wanted to say," Wolf said to Karen in gentle rebuttal. "Back on the Space Urchin Queen, the Dreaded Legion merchant transport that brought me over to the Inner Sphere, I met someone whom I thought was a runt of the Merchant caste. But he proved himself to be much, much more than that. Space Hog, as he was 'affectionately' known, had his right arm blown off by a ruptured tertiary plasma conduit down in Engineering, but he did not allow himself to succumb to pain. He fought it and prevented a reactor meltdown almost single-handedly, and literally speaking at that - there was no way I could've moved the radioactive plasma manual override lever alone. In short, he saved my life and the lives of 150 or so crewmates."
A look of surprise, mixed with curiosity and puzzlement came over Karen. It was the sort of look that said, 'I'm impressed but what are you trying to say?'
"What I'm trying to say, Karen, is that you, myself, and even a freebirth like Space Hog can go beyond the perceived limitations of our respective stations in life. There will be moments in our lives - you and I - whereby we are called to be more than Warrior, just as the time had come for Space Hog to be more than a mere Merchant caste technician," Wolf explained. "It's called growth."
"I'm not a Warrior," Karen stated in a resigned manner.
"Huh!" Wolf snorted. "'Pseudo-Warrior' is a derogatory term for those who are still in the Warrior caste but, as such, have been excluded from the mainstream ranks. It is what I would be had I been transferred to a solahma unit, except that 'solahma' is far worse a derogatory term than 'pseudo-Warrior'. But here I am."
Still, Karen did not look convinced.
"Alright," Wolf persisted. "You asked me whether you were as good as Jen. From what I saw back at the simulator bays, you could very well be. How many hours have you clocked in the simulators?"
"Over 1000 in the past year alone," replied Karen with a modicum of enthusiasm returning to her voice and general demeanour. "I was supposed to prepare myself to become a Solaris arena gladiator, but your arrival changed all that. Besides, once I hit the 1000 hour mark, I stopped counting the hours."
Wolf leaned forward over the small kitchen table to reach for Karen's hand. It was a tentative gesture. When Karen did not flinch, Wolf held Karen's hand in his and caressed it gently.
"Our past makes us bitter, but it also drives us for the better," said Wolf. "Just don't let bitterness consume you, Karen. Instead of a catalyst, it'll become a crutch."
"Is that what you teach the Dreaded Legion cadets?" Karen asked almost light-heartedly.
"No," said Wolf. "It's what I tell myself."
Hearing that, an earnest look came over Karen's face that said, 'tell me more'.
"I'll tell you about it some other time," said Wolf with a knowing smile. "Right now...," said Wolf as he leaned closer to Karen and he followed through with a gentle kiss on her lips. Karen responded by kissing Wolf passionately.
Suddenly, Karen broke away from Wolf by pushing him away, albeit gently. "Are you sure you're up to it?" she asked. "I mean, you've had a full day fighting a battle, getting injured, recovering from your injuries...."
"Hey, all my parts are working fine," Wolf jibed. "Want to see?"
That brought an alluring smile to Karen's face. She got up while still holding Wolf's hand in hers and pulled him gently in the direction of the living room and then to her room, wherein they spent the better part of the night making love to each other.
Back at the fight club, Typhoon's jointly hosted victory party was in the process of winding down. With many of the fights and betting that went with them over, party guests were leaving, albeit some were taking their time to do so.
Typhoon was in the club manager's office which had been turned into a private infirmary for him and his selected guests. He had fought viciously and was receiving treatment for his injuries when there was a knock on the door. In came Xavier who looked like he had fought equally as vicious and had suffered as many injuries.
"Sorry for the broken nose, boss," Xavier said to Typhoon.
"No, you're not," Typhoon shot back. "You enjoyed it, you son of a... OWW!"
"Hold still, please," Angelina said, as she tried very hard to administer the medical nano-bots to Typhoon's broken nose. She had to set the nose just right so that the nanobots would not heal it crooked or leave a large scar.
"Well, you did want it to look convincing," Xavier said with a sly grin.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to get even with me," Typhoon remarked.
"Always, boss," Xavier said with a touch of laughter. "Always."
"Huh!" Typhoon snorted, seemingly displeased. But then he broke into laughter and said, "Ahh! But I got you back."
"No you didn't," the ebony muscle man said with disbelief on his face. "I weigh in much, much more than you. The reason why I fell smack into the canvas was because I was acting; didn't feel a thing."
"Yeah, sure you were," Typhoon said mockingly.
"Hey, Angelina, you saw how it was," Xavier pleaded.
"You leave me out of it, big man," Angelina said. "I just work here, remember?"
"O yeah, I remember," said Xavier with a dirty, expectant look on his face. "How about you work me over after this? Heh!"
"O, shut up!" Angelina shot back, irked, but it only caused both Xavier and Typhoon to burst into uncontrollable laughter, irking Angelina even more.
When the laughter subsided, Xavier asked, "So, how much did we rake in tonight?"
"I don't know," Typhoon said. "I lost count."
"That good, huh?" Xavier asked.
"As agreed, we spilt tonight's winnings 50-50, which come to a total of...," Typhoon said as he turned to look at Angelina for the answer.
"About 2.5 million C-Bills," Angelina said without having to check with her foldable palm-top PC clipped at her waist.
"Swweeeet!" Xavier cheered.
"Yeah," Typhoon concurred. "Not bad for a night's work."
"Suckers!" Xavier proclaimed with regard to those who were tricked into losing money.
"Like stealing candy from a baby," Typhoon said. But no sooner than he did, the club manager's office door burst open and in came three persons both Typhoon and Xavier dreaded to see – pot bellied, girdle-wearing Governor Stanton of Solaris VII and his two goons.
"Good evening, gentleman, or, rather, good morning," Stanton said smoothly. He then looked to Angelina and said, "Angelina, your beauty does not cease to enthral me."
Angelina felt like rolling her eyes, but stayed in control of herself and merely smiled her sweetest smile for Stanton while saying, "Why, Governor Stanton? You flatter me."
"I only speak the truth," Stanton continued suavely. "And speaking of the truth, have you two gentlemen seen the latest on the news grids?" he asked Typhoon and Xavier. Snapping his fingers in the direction of the holo-vid display at the corner of the manager's desk, Stanton signalled to his two near-elemental sized aids to switch it on. The two goons located the remote for the holo-vid display, switched it on and tuned in on one of the holo-news grids which showed the so-called unofficial shadow governor of Solaris VII, Bob Hall, giving a fiery speech to a gathering in what appeared to be a hotel function hall.
"Turn it up," Stanton instructed.
"...WILL NOT STAND FOR ALL THE CHEATING AND CORRUPTION THAT TAKES PLACE IN THE GAMING HALLS AND ARENAS OF SOLARIS VII. THE CITIZENS OF THIS PLANET, EXPATRIATES AND ESPECIALLY TOURISTS DESERVE FAIRNESS. BUT HOW CAN THERE BE FAIRNESS WHEN MATCHES CONTINUE TO BE RIGGED OR WHEN BETS CONTINUE TO BE HEDGED?!" Hall asked spiritedly and received resounding applause as well as cheer from his audience.
"SHADOW GOVERNER BOB HALL, IN HIS TRADEMARK FIERY SPEECHES, CONTINUES TO QUESTION THE INTEGRITY OF THE GOVERNER'S OFFICE IN ITS EFFORTS TO WEED OUT CHEATING AND CORRUPTION," commented a news reader as the holo-vid display enlarged her disembodied head and reduced Hall's to a small portion of the holo-vid display. "WHEN ASKED FOR HIS COMMENTS, GOVERNOR STANTON ONLY HAD THIS TO SAY," she continued as the holo-vid display brought up Stanton's disembodied head.
"MY ADMINISTRATION HAS BEEN ON TOP OF THE SO-CALLED ENDEMIC CHEATING AND CORRUPTION ON SOLARIS VII EVER SINCE I TOOK OFFICE," Stanton's proclaimed coolly and smoothly to the holo-vid cameras. "AND I ASSURE YOU, ASIDE FROM A FEW ISOLATED INCIDENCES, SOLARIS VII IS THE SAFEST BET A GAMER HAS IN THE ENTIRE INNER SPHERE AS FAR AS FAIRNESS AND CHEATING-FREE OR CORRUPTION-FREE GAMING IS CONCERNED...."
"That's enough," Stanton ordered, whereupon the holo-vid display was switched off by one of his goons. "As you can see, gentlemen, things are becoming more... how shall I say... difficult for me. With Bob Hall continuing to build a case against me, you will have to get more... creative."
"Save the suave act, Stanton," Typhoon said, unimpressed. "What is it that you really want?"
"Well, aside from a bigger cut?" Stanton replied with a question almost innocently. "I want things to look cleaner than they are, God damn it!" Stanton shouted angrily.
"Better watch that temper of yours," Xavier said. "Or you'll burst an artery."
"And you'll be bleeding from yours if you don't fix this... this mess!" Stanton shot back.
"Ok, I think I prefer the suave act," Typhoon remarked with a sheepish grin.
"Son of a...," Stanton began to swear.
"Calm down, governor," Typhoon placated. "I hear you loud and clear. And I believe I've just the solution to your... our problem."
"Good," Stanton said in response. "I don't care what it is, as long as it's good. If it's not, then I'll be forced to rely on my 'insurance' plan."
"Whatever that is...," Xavier remarked, sceptically.
"Contrary to what you'd like to believe, Mr. Xavier, I'm no fool," warned Stanton. "And I advise you not to wager against me on it." And with that remark, Stanton turned and left, with his two goons in tow.
Xavier closed the door to the office behind them and then asked, "So, what's the solution?"
Typhoon replied, "Grinner Wolf."
"Eh?" Xavier asked, puzzled.
"Grinner is supposed to be on my side, pretty much like the talk on the street," Typhoon explained. "So, we kill him."
"Nice," Xavier said.
"I know," Typhoon declared boastfully. "I'm a genius."
"That and the fact that the best plans are often the simplest," said Xavier.
"Hey? What's wrong?" Typhoon asked Angelina, when he caught her staring into blank space.
With a heavy sigh, Angelina said, "Too bad, really."
"Why’s that?" Xavier asked, curious.
"Grinner's kind of cute, although he's a little short," Angelina replied.
"That's what I love about you, Angelina," Typhoon began to declare. "You're an accounting genius and an airhead rolled into one."
About a week and a half later, Wolf was fighting side by side with Typhoon in their Heavy Mech match as planned. Wolf was in a jump-capable Catapult, again playing the role of fire support, while Typhoon’s Black Knight was the ‘finishing’ Mech or the Mech that delivered the kills.
Wolf had no idea what was in store until Typhoon left his side and hid in one of the side entrances, forcing Wolf to deal with Xavier all by himself.
“What’s going on, Typh?” Wolf asked over the tight beam com channel.
“Oh! Nothing,” Typhoon replied.
“What do you mean by ‘nothing’?” Wolf shot back. “You know damn well I can’t take Xavier’s Black Knight alone.”
“Huh!” Typhoon merely snorted.
Like Typhoon, Xavier piloted a Black Knight that was equipped with jump-jets and five ER large lasers, whereas Wolf’s Catapult carried 3xClan LRM20, 2xClan LRM10 and a single ER large laser. Together with a Black Knight, Wolf’s Catapult would have been deadly, as could be seen from how Wolf dispatched Xavier’s wingman with a full salvo of LRMs. But alone, and against Xavier’s Black Knight, Wolf did not stand a chance.
“I thought you said you were never trained to take a fall deliberately in a fight,” Typhoon taunted.
“What?” Wolf asked, a little surprised.
“Oh, yeah. That was what you said last week in the infirmary,” Typhoon clarified.
“How did you…?” Wolf began to ask, but then realised that the med-tech who attended to him was probably Typhoon’s informant.
“Now’s your chance,” Typhoon taunted further.
Just then, Xavier’s Black Knight stepped from behind the protective cover of a reinforced arch. So, Wolf moved from behind the reinforced arch that gave his Catapult cover and fired off his single ER large laser a spilt second faster than Xavier did. The laser hit threw Xavier’s weapons fire wide, thereby giving Wolf the opportunity to obtain missile lock. When target lock was achieved, Wolf opened fire with his LRMs, but they only hit the reinforced arch, as Xavier managed to get behind its protective cover just in time.
“Very good, Grinner,” Typhoon commented. “But can you keep it up?”
Again, Xavier moved from behind his protective cover and again Wolf took the bait, but this time, Xavier was faster than Wolf. His five ER large lasers smashed and incinerated Wolf’s centre torso armour almost entirely and nearly knocked Wolf’s Catapult over in the process.
Wolf’s laser fire went wide. And reversing his Catapult back behind cover was all that he could do next.
“We had a deal, Typh!” Wolf shouted over the tight beam com channel.
“Yes, we had,” affirmed Typhoon. “’Had’, being the operative word.”
“You double crossing, son of a…,” Wolf began cursing.
“Tut! Tut!” Typhoon responded. “Don’t you mean ‘stravag’, ‘surat’, etc, etc?”
Hearing that, Wolf’s mind rushed.
“Oh, yes,” Typhoon continued. “Tell me I’m spot on.”
“Who are you?” Wolf asked.
“I would tell you, but I’m afraid you’re out of time,” Typhoon said.
“Time to die, clanner,” Xavier pitched in over the tight-beam com channel. And with that, he moved his Black Knight from behind cover again about the same time Typhoon moved out from the side entrance he was hiding in.
Wolf’s heart raced as he realised that Typhoon meant to shoot his Catapult in the rear. Turning his Catapult to face Typhoon would be too slow a process, as well as a pointless one since Wolf no longer had substantial armour left in the front of his Catapult. And between Xavier and Typhoon, Xavier had suffered more damage and, thus, was the logical target for Wolf to concentrate fire on. But Wolf also knew that he could no longer stay in the fight. So, he throttled his Catapult and fired off its jump-jets. As his Catapult rose upwards on the plasma flames of its jump-jets, Wolf aimed for Xavier, fired off his ER large laser, dumb-fired his LRMs and pulled on the eject lever above his cockpit seat with both hands.
But just as Wolf’s escape pod began blasting upwards, ER large laser fire from Typhoon’s and Xavier’s Black Knight connected with Wolf’s Catapult, causing it to explode with white eye-piercing lights in mid-air.
Wolf heard himself scream as flames engulfed him in his escape pod. But he thought it odd that he no longer felt pain and that a part of him could still rationalise what was going on.
‘Why am I still screaming?’ Wolf asked himself as his vision began tunnelling.
‘So, this is what death is like,’ Wolf thought to himself as everything faded to black.

Chapter 9: Here be pirates

Chapter 10: The Good Fight

Chapter 11: Price of Freedom

Chapter 12: Heart and Soul

Chapter 13: End Game