‘Blast outa this, grampers!’ sneered the knifeman. ‘Fly yer own spacelanes. and ye might live to see the sun come out.’ The second thug pulled out a slugthrower.
Trev-R shot them—one bullet apiece Very fast, very neat The double explosions of his pistol thundered loudly in the alley. Trev-R's bullet hit the knife-wielder right between the eyes, and blew him backward into the wall. The victim jerked free and threw himself down at the sound of the shots. He took only a slight cut across one cheek from the falling knife.
The second man had started to react. He squeezed off one shot, but the bullet flew wide. Trev-R's shot struck him in the nose, and blew the back of his head off.
Trev-R saw the boy lying in the alley mud like a corpse. ‘Get up. kid,’ he said. ‘We've got to get out of here.’
Trev-R did not waste any time This part of Xolara was as lawless as any frontier town in the galaxy, but one should not go around shooting people down. He checked the closer body first The dead man had a Mi-kari-22 in his hand It was a cheap four-shot far inferior to Trev-R's antique. He took it anyway, and scooped up the kid's 10 and money pouch. That took only about ten seconds. The second corpse had nothing worth taking but the knife. Trev-R left it.
The kid whimpered as he climbed to his feet and tried to stanch the blood flowing from the cut on his cheek. Trev-R ripped a piece of cloth off the shirt of one of the thugs and handed it to him. ‘Here, kid. Use this.’ The youth took the cloth and dabbed at his cheek, then did a double take as he got a good look at Trev-R's grizzled face. ‘I know you,’ he blurted. ‘You're Trev-R the Mech-Warrior. I've seen all your fights, but I never saw anything like what you just did for me. Thank you! Thank you for saving my life!’
Trev-R grabbed the babbling youth by one shoulder and half-carried, half-pushed him down and out of the alley. Trev-R glanced at the ID he had recovered. This kid was Vayil Oonthrax, the only son of Baron Irvxx Oonthrax. He had about 200 C-bills on him. Trev-R thought about keeping the money, but he did not. Handing the whole wad back to the boy, he said. ‘Wipe yer mouth. We're goin' in here.’
Here was Morte's Tavern, one of perhaps twenty such places where a man down on his luck could get a cheap meal and a room in the city of Xolara. Trev-R had called it home for over a year now. He had worked out a deal with Slainte, the tavern-keeper, to do chores around the place in exchange for his nightly meal and verminous bed. He guided Vayil over to a table near the fire and threw his plastic rain-protector onto a rack made for it. Their soggy clothing started to steam in the warmth of the fire as a puddle formed beneath them.
‘Don't forget to mop that up. Trev-R.’ yelled the barkeeper.
There was no one else in the place this evening. Slainte, a white-haired old troll of a man with abnormally developed arms, came over to see if they wanted anything. Trev-R ordered a bottle of Cthonian whiskey for himself and another of R-thing Cola for the kid. Along with drinks, he ordered two plates of grits and pseudoburgers as a meal. ‘You're buying, kid. O.K.?’
‘ It's the least I can do.’ Hero worship gleamed in the young man's blue eyes. ‘I'm. uh. Vayil Oonthrax, and I'm going to be a MechWarrior someday, too, Mr. Trev-R.’
‘Just Trev-R.’ The old man gave a mocking Arena warrior salute with his artificial left hand. The smooth, cool plastic of the fake hand just did not fit with the grizzled features of the man.
Vayil Oonthrax, nobleman of Solaris VII. could hardly believe his eyes. The character across the table from him could have emerged from any docu-drama or vid-cast about space pirates or MechWarriors. He saw a man of average height, but that was the last average thing about him. His face and skin had that peculiar sun-burned glaze acquired only by exposure to many different suns and some of the hard ultra-violet of space. A mane of bleached white hair grew low on his forehead and was cut in such a way that it padded the top and back of his skull but could never fall into his eyes. His deeply lined face showed an old burn scar running from chin to hairline on the left side. Where his left eye should have been, a white patch, apparently fixed in place with some super adhesive, covered the socket. He squinted out of a pale blue, almost colorless, right eye. When the other man spoke, Vayil noticed that one of his bottom incisors was missing, and the remaining teeth were stained yellowish-brown with age. He wore a ragged blue tunic and trousers, but a good pair of old brown boots.
‘Where's yer bodyguard, kid?’
‘He's ill with Kentares flu. I didn't think I'd need him just to get over to the 'Mech-stable and back.’
‘Well, that was yer first mistake. What were you doin' at the 'Mech-stable?’
‘'Mech practice,’ Vayil explained. ‘I'm in training.’
‘Ya don't look it, kid,’ growled Trev-R. ‘Ya make too many mistakes.’
‘But I've got to be one!’ Desperation entered his voice. ‘It's what my family does. My father is spending a fortune to make a MechWarrior out of me. If I let him down, he'll kill me!’
‘If ya make mistakes in a 'Mech, you'll kill yerself.’
The food arrived, and Trev-R dug in. Vayil only played with his.
‘Yes, I do make too many mistakes.’ Vayil admitted, hanging his head, but it popped up again as he had a thought. ‘Maybe you could help me...be my tutor. I could make it worth your while!’
‘Is that a bribe, kid?’
Vayil looked embarrassed.
‘Say, yes.’ laughed Trev-R, ‘and I'm your man.’ A new source of income had just appeared to him.
‘Yes! Yes! Consider yourself bribed’ Vayil bobbed up and down like a happy puppy. ‘How about 50 C-bills a week?’
As they ate the cheap but nourishing food that Slainte had brought, they tound themselves talking about many things. ‘Why did you save me?’ asked Vayil.
‘I can't stand muggers.’ explained Trev-R. ‘Thirty-odd years ago my brother Bill-R and me were ambushed in an alley on Acter by four thugs who'd have killed us for loose change. They beat us with clubs after taking our few C-bills, beat us into unconsciousness. I woke up in a hospital. My brother never did wake up. The bastards killed him.'
‘Gosh, Trev-R.’ blurted the kid. ‘I'm sorry. But thanks for helping me!’
‘Forget it, kid. Yer payin' for dinner It all works out.’
‘So when can I have my first lesson?’
‘Let's start tonight. D'ya know about the private MechWarrior radio frequencies?’
‘No What do you mean?’
‘In combat, we MechWarriors sometimes like to talk to each other. Ya can't do it on a public band, or ya might give your position away, so every warrior has his own special channel. Mine is the third down from 100 Megahertz.’
‘That would be 99.7 Megahertz.’ calculated Vayil.
‘Ya got that right Remember it! We might need to talk some day.’
‘Tell me about some of your adventures,’ Vayil demanded.
‘All right. Just keep the Cthonian whiskey flowin' and I'll talk yer ears off,’ said Trev-R with a laugh. ‘I mind me of the time I was with the Second Stives Lancers back in ought two. We were pinned down by superior forces on Pinard...’
Solaris City is the capital of Solaris VII. and the place that everyone thinks of first when Arena 'Mech combat is mentioned, but there are half a dozen other arena cities on the planet Though places like Xolara were definitely the minor leagues, they could put on a pretty good fight once in a while. When the rumors started that Xolara would stage a major Mech battle between an Atlasand a Warhammer.The MechWarriors and gamblers of all Solaris took notice.
As everyone knows, the AS7-D Atlasis the biggest BattleMech in the galaxy. It is usually reserved for generals like the Draconis Combine's Vasily Cherenkoff. For a place like Xolara to even own one was unprecedented. It went without saying that this was an old. old machine, one that had been destroyed and rebuilt time and again Still, it might have remained a frontline unit somewhere if Baron Irvxx Oonthrax had not spent a major fortune to buy it for his son Vayil.