Before the Hermescould recover, the blue whiplash of Justin's PPC scourged the newly opened wound. What little armor the missiles had spared, the particle beam evaporated into a metal steam.
Melted slag coursed down the Hermes'sfront, but the beam had failed to bore into the 'Mech's internal structures.
The Vindicator'slaser flashed to life and stabbed into the other 'Mech's left arm. It vaporized the remaining armor and shredded the flamethrower's mechanisms. The beam sliced up into the Hermes'sarmpit and baked the shoulder actuator. The left arm, locked in a slightly forward position, smoldered and began to leak flamer fuel.
Justin cleared a tightbeam channel to his opponent, "Wolfson, your flamer's leaking. Bail out now."
Justin could almost feel the fear coming through the radio link, but Wolfson's words belied it, "Can't. Got a 100,000 credit bond against surrender. You ain't getting that from me."
Justin shook his head and droplets of sweat ran down his neurohelmet's viewplate. "Dammit, you idiot! I don't want it. Get out!"
"Go to hell, you Capellan bastard!" The Hermesraised its right arm. The laser and the autocannon both came to life as Wolfson attempted the impossible feat of exchanging shots with a 'Mech that outgunned him. The laser cut flecks of armor from the Vindicator'sPPC, and the autocannon shredded the armor on the 'Mech's right leg, but neither shot did enough damage to take the Vindicatordown.
Justin's flight of missiles sent three explosive charges into the Hermes'sright leg, blasting twisted sheets of armor from the thigh. The laser burned into the same limb, excising even greater hunks of armor from the thigh. Neither attack damaged the limb, but that hardly mattered as the PPC flared to life.
The PPCs azure beam drilled through the melted armor on the Hermes'sright breast. As the artificial lightning bolt ate into the 'Mech, blue fire burst from the muzzle of the Hermes'sautocannon, and a dull explosion belched a black column of smoke from the hole in the 'Mech's chest. Sparks flashed within the oily haze and the Hermesseemed to fold in upon itself.
Suddenly, Wolfson jerked his 'Mech upright and charged. As the Hermeslurched forward, it accelerated to 97 kph, living up to its name. Wolfson held the 'Mech's right arm wide, and came in for a tackle. His laser flared to life at the last second, but the beam cut wide of its intended mark.
Justin's Vindicatorducked under the Hermes'soutstretched arm and buried its left fist into the other 'Mech's flank. The giant analog of Justin's own metal hand crushed internal circuitry and came away with wires and the autocannon's ammo chain trailing on it. His medium laser, hastily aimed, sawed yet more armor from the Hermes'sright thigh.
Wolfson spun his Hermeson its right foot and tried to kick back at the Vindicatorwith its left leg. He failed because Justin's punch to the Hermes'smiddle had crushed part of the gyro housing. The Hermesmerely spun to the ground. It landed hard on its left shoulder and ruptured the flamer fuel tanks. Even as the wounded 'Mech settled onto its back, the viscous liquid washed over its torso.
The small laser on the Vindicator'sleft arm struck like a neon-scarlet viper. The coruscating energy stream ignited the flamer fuel, sending a huge white-yellow tongue of flame licking up at the arena's roof. The fire snapped and crackled in Justin's ears, but did nothing to mask the screams and applause of the spectators.
The Hermes'sfaceplate blew upward. Wolfson hit his eject button and his command chair exploded out of his 'Mech's head, spinning up into the conflagration. Almost instantly, the chair's gyros kicked in the escape rockets and jetted the chair out of the danger zone. Singed and smoking, Wolfson's chair landed at the Vindicator'sfeet.
The Vindicatorsquatted over the ejected pilot. Wolfson scrambled to free himself of the command chair, but the Vindicatordropped its hand over the chair and encased it in a cage of fingers. Within his cockpit, Justin reached out his right hand to dial his directional mike in at Wolfson.
"The next time you call me bastard, little man, you'd better win, because otherwise I'll kill you for it."
19
Solaris VII (The Game World)
Rahneshire, Lyran Commonwealth
20 February 3027
Gray Noton stared out at the killing field and watched his fortune dissipate with the smoke from the Hermesas the maintenance crew extinguished the fire. He cursed inwardly at the loss. I should have known that anything Lestrade arranged would fail and that the little weasel will never reimburse me. I'd love to try, but I can't extort more money from Lestrade without ruining my own reputation.He also realized that Teng's victory had cost him more than just the fifty thousand credits wagered on the battle. It would cost him five thousand credits to have Teng killed, and probably another ten thousand to make sure that the investigation of Teng's death did not lead back to him. Damn! I hate the costs of doing business.
Kym reached out and squeezed Noton's left forearm. "That fight was incredible!" She paused and studied his face. "Gray, you didn't have money on it, did you?"
Noton started, then forced a smile. He shrugged. "A bit, but nothing really." He narrowed his eyes. "Teng has apparently learned to fight while recovering from his injuries."
"Foul!" someone cried behind Noton. The spymaster turned and watched as people pointed at a small holovidscreen set into a wall beside the door. The camera had focused upon the fight's victor as he climbed down from the Vindicator'scockpit. "That's not Fuh Teng!"
What in hell?Noton got up and shouldered his way through the crowd. A couple of people made to protest, but changed their minds at the look of angry concentration on Noton's face. He reached the front ranks and stared hard at the man who had just won the battle.
The MechWarrior's dark hair, almond-shaped eyes, and yellowish skin marked him as Capellan, but Noton had never seen him before. As the camera concentrated on the victor's face, Noton did recognize the wolfish look of hunger. He knew that he had once worn that same expression. This one is a killer.
"Not fair!" shouted a noble from the Federated Suns, brandishing bet stubs as though they were legal documents. "We wagered that Billy Wolfson would defeat Fuh Teng! We were cheated!"
"Shut up!" Noton snapped at him. "Just shut up. If you look at your tickets, you'll see that you bet on a Hermes IIdefeating a Vindicator."Noton stabbed a finger back at the arena viewport. "That was not a challenge match. Neither pilot specified the warrior he was to face. You may not like it, but anyone who owns stables of 'Mechs knows that a last-minute change of pilots is not illegal. The machines battle, and any fool old enough to bet should have known that a Vindicatorwould eat a Hermesalive!"
Noton posted one arm on either side of the holovision screen. The camera had panned back as the MechWarrior pulled on a jumpsuit. Noton's heart caught in his throat as he caught a glimpse of a blue-steel forearm slipping into a sleeve. Even before he had time to voice his suspicion, the name "Justin Xiang" appeared on the screen as the announcer stumbled his way through an impromptu history of the fight's victor.