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Chapter 18 - Where Angels Fear to Tread[]
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Preparing for the New Year[]
12/31/3046 - Masamori, Hachiman, Draconis Combine
22:42
New Year’s revelers crowded the warrens of Ukiyo giving barely enough space for Franklin and Miya to squeeze in at a quaint Tachinomi off the main path. The gorgeous hostess wore a cropped puffy jacket and glowstick necklace which dangled across the zipped down portion while pouring drinks.
Miya held up a ‘fresh’ bottle of ordered beer but passed it off to a grateful patron instead. She caught the hostess’ attention before she turned away. “Shochu Uornhai, Onegaishimas.
It’s a good thing alcohol disinfects. Even the fresh stuff looks foul.”
Two blonde women, imports from Rasalhague, in fur coats followed closely by a mirror-shades minder passed out cards to the crowd. Ribbons in their hair glowed under the lights strung between the alleys. “People don’t normally come here for the refreshments.”
Hot oolong and shocu arrived as did a ceramic sake bottle for Franklin. The sounds of dice clanking against a nearby wall to an elated shout caught his attention. He watched a Shatei collected the wagers from the grumbling losers under the supervision of his Kyodai. “Since we may or may not die tonight. Why do you walk the Gokudo, Franklin? You seem smarter than that.”
Franklin took the ceramic bottle from its stand pouring a cup for himself. The hostess replaced it and took their money. “Same reason you joined your Otokodate I imagine. I needed someone to watch my back and had no better option. The promise of wealth, women, and adventure helped.”
"You know it’s kinda funny. I was the lightest skinned guy in the family. They weren’t called Black Dragons without reason.” A smile came to him as he drank, “That’s Philadelphia for you.”
Her solid pack was heavy enough that it was becoming uncomfortable, “Do you think Watanabe will honor our deal?”
“He will,” Franklin did the same with his briefcase, “If he knows what’s good for him.”
They looked toward ‘The Crow’s Nest’ brightly shining above the island’s claustrophobic confines. “Although, he’s not very smart and I’ve also pissed him off plenty.
His Wakagashira had it out for me and well he hasn’t been since we last met.”
“Fujio, the guy from the Cabaret?”
“Thought I stole his girl. Couldn’t accept that she just left him to live a normal life.
Saw himself as a big shot, but now he’s just chum.” He lit a cigarette, “I’d feel bad if he wasn’t such an ******.”
“I joined the Foresutonaitsu for protection, at first, but Shugo Takeuchi.
He’s as bad as Watanabe. We killed a lot of people, burned many properties, but he was worse.
It wasn’t Law, it was obedience or death with him. He out terrorized us, despite our best efforts.
That’s why I had to leave and fast, didn’t think about.”
She looked around at the neon signs advertising a wide range of ‘services,’ “This, when I signed my life away. I grew up in Dark Earth’s Hanamachi and I don’t even know what half of these signs entail.” Her face contorted in disgust at a particular sign, “Clearly some Masakko have deviant tastes.”
“Wealthiest city in the Draconis Combine. If someone is willing to pay, someone will provide. It’s the nature of the beast. Helps keep me in business although I would never touch the skin trade.”
Faint beeping caused Franklin to check his watch, a bespoke dark gray steel with a luminous face, “It’s almost time.”
The Crow’s Nest projected the countdown clock to 3047 Terran Harmonized 30:00 and counting down onto the mirrored office building. Franklin and Miya were approached by Jirigawa Shantai soldiers shouldering Shimatsu 42 assault rifles. Others looked out at the river barges taking position for the midnight fireworks display while throughout the riverside districts the local set off their own fireworks and laser shows which were in turn reflected of flowing water, ice, and glass.
A trenchcoat wearing Wakagashira arrived with a fresh crew of soldiers via the elevator. His mirrored glasses, leather gloves, and dark hat took away anything distinctive about him, just a shadowy mirage occasionally visible when light passed through the lobby. “Empty your pockets, remove any jewelry, and put the cases down.”
He gestured sharply to his subordinates, “You there! Wand them and pat them down. Watanabe doesn’t want any weapons inside. Be thorough.”
One of the younger soldiers was selected to pat down Miya. She grinned and bore it, once he was finished his comrades had a good laugh about it. “You should have brought me a drink first.”
Franklin received the rough treatment from a failed Sumo wrestler. “With fingers that thick you must be popular with the ladies.”
“Glad you all had a laugh about it.” The shadow put the cases through the security scanner, “So you weren’t lying Miya. You do have it.
I’m impressed, I was certain you would be entertaining us for a long time.
Your hair was a daring choice too.”
She brushed back the blonde wig, “I’m trying new things.”
“Pick up your things and follow me. Watanabe is waiting.”
A Meeting and Revelations[]
Miya shuffled as the glass elevator rose outside The Crow's Nest, the headquarters of the Jirigawa Syndicate. Masamori's lights spread as far as the eye could see separated by the darkened river, even near Headwater Park which she had chosen for its darkness, hills, and trees that reminded her of home.
I hate heights.
A chime caught her attention and the elevator doors opened to a perilous sky-walk guarded by three men leading to the 'Masthead,' Watanabe's office. Something about the trench coat, hat, gloves, and glasses wearing Wakagashira they shared the elevator with made her even more uncomfortable and she sensed Franklin felt the same. He turned to them and their faces became masks, “I'll be waiting here.”
Franklin and she walked under the watchful eyes of the Yakuza that closed the path back as she passed.. The Masthead commanded a formidable view of the river where leviathan barges were moved into position by powerful tugs. All ready for the celebratory fireworks that would welcome 3047. Every Samurai blade between Kaiken and Naginata were mounted on the walls in ornate scabbards.
Watanabe, the former strongman turned Oyabun, turned to face them. “Look at what I just reeled in. The bait fish pulled in a whale. It's a pity this has to come to an end, Miya. Your antics have been amusing.”
“The feeling isn't mutual, Watanabe. I want my freedom.”
“As do all thinking creatures. Present your tribute.”
Miya stepped forward, feeling suddenly exposed as soon as she was out of Franklin's arm's reach. She unlimbered the briefcase and put it on the desk before opening it to present her gold bars. “Quarter million Ryu as agreed.”
Watanabe reached out his immense hands, and closed the briefcase. “Its not enough. You've suddenly become more valuable to me.
Isn't that right, Franklin?”
Careful to keep Watanabe in her peripheral vision she stepped toward the possibly sharp blades. “What is he talking about?”
The Oyabun laughed heartily, “You didn't tell her.
Oh that's rich! You see Mister Sakamoto and I have a history.
He owes me one hundred million Ryu because he stole valuable things from me.
Two, he has a secret.
One that involves you and your ward Constable.”
They paused for a moment, “Go ahead, Franklin.
Why don't you tell her how you determined that Minoru is your half-brother, or that she is Isoroku's daughter.”
Anger and a dozen other emotions displayed on her face. “Is this true?”
“Yes to both.
Fujio was reckless, I stole four supercharged Shinobi engines for the Jirigawas. The Bertolis snatched them up. Worth forty million Ryu.”
“And it cost him his life.”
“Good riddance. I also commissioned the DNA test using hair from Minoru's hat. So I found out everything.”
Her hands clenched and she dropped back to the display wall, “When were you going to tell me!”
A smug look came over Watanabe's face, “What did he ask for his help walking you into Ukiyo?”
“He didn't ask for anything.”
“You didn't think that was suspicious?”
“Of course I did, but I trusted him.”
“And he lied to you.”
Franklin seemed at ease which frustrated Miya even more, “I didn't want him to find out. Thought it would be safer if you didn't know. At least until we got out of this.”
“You were using me.”, he accused her.
She was within a few steps of the wall, “Like everyone else.”
“You asked for my help, Miya. I've been planning this for a while.
I knew he wouldn't let me walk out of here even if I wasn't a Kurita.
Watanabe, If I may approach you will find something more valuable than us,” He presented the narrow briefcase, “in here.”
Watanabe beckoned him forward followed closely by Yakuza clutching the Kodachi at their belts a short distance behind him on either side. The soldiers from the sky-walk replaced them at the door as their boss stood behind his broad dark wooden desk. Franklin presented the briefcase and fiddled with his watch. “Open it up, Mister Sakamoto.”
The only illumination in the room was the glow of the holographic clock ticking down the final minutes of 3047. Franklin opened the briefcase to reveal a scroll tube and Menpo masks of a Blue and Red Oni. Watanabe opened the seal with a letter opener and unfurled the scroll.
“What is this?”, Franklin asked
“A signed Letter of Marque.”
They turned away from the riverside as the office was illuminated by powerful spotlights from the nearest river barges, projecting an Oni head with swords beneath. The clock was bleached out and everyone in the office dazzled as MODs (Machines of Destruction) emerged from below decks and Zodiacs were launched from 'The Crossbones' toward the 'Stone Frigate' of Ukiyo.
When Demons Rise[]
12/17
Franklin turned back at the dazed Jiri behind him. Right hand reached beneath the jacket to wrap around the cold steel of pistol while the left chopped him in the neck. The man stumbled back choking and thus freed his pistol, in Franklin’s hands, from its shoulder holster. Two shots took down the other man behind him as the other collapsed to his knees, a partially drawn Kodachi clattered to the tile floor.
Miya dashed across the room from the weapon rack; Watanabe dodged two strikes from her Katana as he withdrew to the opposite wall. “Look at you, Miya. Kurita blood must be made of cold steel. As soon as you find out you’ve already got a sword in your hands.”
She circled as the door guards exchanged fire with Franklin from behind Watanabe’s desk. The larger man dodged her thrusts with startling ease, but she was just a little faster to recover. “Sakamoto already told me.”
“Before or after you offered yourself to secure his help?”
Her blue eyes held the trademark Kurita steel, as she lunged forward, he yielded space. They approached the center of the room where two men lay dead. The gunmen ceased fire unwilling to hit either combatant in the crossfire. Formerly overwhelming light diffused through the bulletproof glass.
“I will leave that up to your twisted imagination.”
Watanabe kept his stance tight waiting for an opportunity to reverse the situation. “Then it’s naughty dreams tonight.”
“You won’t make it through the night. Bastard.”
Miya pressed forward with unrestrained fury. As Watanabe dodged her slashes he rolled and recovered his fallen bodyguard’s blade. Armed with something equally dangerous he wielded sheath and blade to parry and batter her. Now on the defensive, her breathing came rapid, adrenaline flowed through her veins, hands became unsteady, and vision tunneled.
She overextended a thrust; Watanabe saw it coming and threw her across the room disarming her in the process. Miya rolled across the desk scattering gold bars, briefcases, and Oni masks throughout the room. Both fell into the spiderwebbed glass with an impact that knocked the wind out of them and shook the panels.
Franklin pushed her off his lap and rubbed his right shoulder, “You were doing good till the end.
I appreciated the delay in the middle,” his magazine dropped to the carpet with a thud, “since I’m out of ammo.”
“You weren’t so bad yourself in the beginning.” She rubbed her sore hip, “Thanks for the catch.”
They peered over the desk and heard the crunching of handheld autocannon fire from the IndustrialMech MODs six stories below them. “Looks like he’s escaping. Is Watanabe a MechWarrior, Franklin?”
“Warhammer Six Kappa. If he gets that Mech and his two Panther Nine Zetas active. They’ll tear through the MODs.”
Both nodded to each other and rushed to don the shoulder harnesses of the fallen bodyguards and stuff a scabbard into their belts. Miya checked the chamber and tried different grips while he reloaded his pistol. “Why do I have such tiny hands?” She cursed at herself, then looked toward her cousin holding Watanabe’s richly decorated and ivory inlaid Nagamaki’s scabbard in his off hand. “You don’t need that. It will slow us down.”
“But I want it, and it matches my coat.” Franklin put it next to his slightly damaged suit coat, “Also unlike you, I learned how to shoot one handed, in microgravity.”
“Damn, spacers.”
Outside the door was blinding light and the deafening roar of panicked crowds, sirens, and gunfire. Miya squinted and looked down the exposed walkway. She looked back at him in a crouch with the Nagamaki roped to his back. “I don’t see anyone.”
“That’s either a good or bad thing.”
In their heightened perception they heard the elevator chime, “Reinforcements?” They took up defensive positions barely peeking their pistols around the corner toward the elevator.
A lone trench coated figure stood in the elevator and stepped onto the skywalk. The Crossbones’ spotlights cast him as a distinctive silhouette occasionally illuminated from above by bursting fireworks. Franklin and Miya emptied their magazines into the perfect dozen meter target who made little attempt to dodge or take cover from the incoming fire except to bring his coat up in order to ward off the assault. Twenty-five rounds later he was still standing, his voice bellowed over the surrounding noise but held the cool confidence of an experienced martial artist. “I told you I would be waiting for you when you left Watanabe’s office. You can keep wasting your ammo or you can come out and fight me.”
His footsteps were heavy on the walkway as he shrugged off the black trench coat which fell with a thump along with his hat and mirror-shades. “As you can see, I am unarmed.”
Miya and Franklin reloaded their pistols. “This is my last mag. You only have another spare. We still have six stories to go.” They peeked around to see The Shadow was intensely muscled beneath a white bodysuit with slightly damaged armor panels but no visible weapons. “We just need to get past him. He’s trying to delay us.”
They ran around the corner and noticed an unnatural silver sheen reflecting off the man’s eyes. The cousins stopped in their tracks and backed up slowly. “What are you?”
He dropped into a perfect Imarra style hang stance with one first and leg upward while the others were extended. “Superior.”
Melee Combat[]
Two blades caught the glint of the spotlights from below, Franklin whipped the sheath off the Nagamaki then held it high in Hasso no Kamae. Miya held the center with her sword in a low Gedan no Kamae.
Franklin lunged forward, “What shall we call you?
I’m thinking Yuri.”
Miya nodded at the insult and followed close behind.
The ghostly figured chuckled and switched to an off-hand stance. “Yūrei. I’ll accept it.
Before we get started, know I only need one of you alive.” He pointed to both in turn, “The lucky one dies first, possibly quickly,” the trio paused, “but don’t count on it.”
Yuri lunged forward between them coming close enough to Franklin’s jaw that he felt the wind from the knife hand. He sidestepped Miya’s thrust and drove his knee into the back of hers forcing to her hands and knees.
Franklin slashed high and Yuri’s upper cut was fouled by Miya reaping his legs to break his stance. Yet it connected enough to knock Franklin back to the bars. She rose with a thrust upward that forced Yuri back but crowded out Franklin long enough for them to back into ‘The Masthead’ once more.
Now within the wider office Franklin and Miya stood further apart from one another with the backs toward the weapons. Yuri adopted a steady Tai Chi stance while the cousins warily shifted their own in response to his movement. “Oh, to see all those beautiful weapons. Reminds me of what was once home.”
Below them the sounds of explosions and gunfire grew steadily louder, Miya and Franklin gestured to one another. He slashed forward in tight arcs pressing Yuri against Watanabe’s formerly now bullet ridden desk while reducing his own exposure to the mysterious martial artist. Yuri inched backward keeping his unnatural eyes on his opponent and little else.
The last blow till he was at the desk he took on his solid metallic left arm before Franklin was pushed with both hands enough to stagger him. Watanabe’s chipped sword clattered to the ground from nerveless fingers and Yuri gripped Franklin by his burgundy suit’s lapels. Yuri leaned in menacingly before he turned toward the bulletproof windows, opaque with spider-webbing.
“Do you think you will fly? Or just splatter on the glass, like a fly?”
Franklin thrust a short Tanto hidden in his sleeve near Yuri’s triceps. The blade barely penetrated the bodysuit but distracted his foe long enough to escape his grip. Once he was clear the now black-haired Miya tossed a bottle of grain alcohol stuffed with a flaming scarf stuffed into it at him. They rushed out of the room as Franklin used her sword to barricade the office door. Miya pressed furiously at the elevator control as Yuri battered the stout wooden door. Franklin joined her as they both drew their pistols once more and stood on either side of the elevator.
“Hopefully, Watanabe didn’t cheap out on his swords.”
“He was a top shelf kind of guy. It wasn’t my first time in that office.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s in the past.
Let’s just say his death would be best for both of us.
He couldn’t hold me physically; he won’t hold me any other way either.”
A ding caught their attention and they sunk deeper into the shadows waiting in ambush for reinforcements. The office door grew more splintered with each passing second. Franklin cleared the capsule. “Nobody. What a disappointment.”
“I’ve had worse. Let’s move. Big Blue is waiting for you.”
Yuri smashed through the door splintering wood and steel with a shoulder ram and shout. The skywalk outside was vacant, the elevator light indicating the capsule was well on its way to the ground floor. His neural shunt and House conditioning kept the burn’s pain at bay, but his pristine bodysuit was charred, and smelled of moonshine. He walked over to his trench-coat once more pulled it over his shoulders and assembled a takedown carbine from parts stowed within its folds. The weapon's magazine seated with a firm click as he rested the stock on his hip and donned his glasses while waiting for the elevator to return.
He racked the slide and the weapon's ghost reticle appeared in his sight. “I do need only one after all.”
Running Battle between Mechs and Yakuza[]
Ukiyo’s narrow streets and tall buildings echoed with the sounds of gunfire and panicked crowds. MMK and MHB (Firefighters) personnel, patrol boats, and vehicles were deployed en masse to the Murasaki gangways as revelers fled from the Sumiyama and Jirigawa soldiers engaged in fierce fighting on the opposite end of the island.
The titanic Crossbones had run aground three dozen meters from the wharf but still projected its lights on ‘The Crow’s Nest.’ In between were up-armored Industrialmechs knee deep in freezing water and armed Zodiacs ferrying Sumi soldiers to the island under the protection of rattling machine guns and crunch of autocannons.
Franklin and Miya took to the snow slick rooftops leaping across narrow alleys or balancing precariously across narrow beams in order to escape from the stampeding crowds below. Bullets from Yuri’s rifle whistled around them. His aim drew ever closer even as the coat billowed like bat wings behind him as he flew over the alleys of Ukiyo to close the gap between them.
“Talk about leaping ghosts.”
“Those are vampires, Franklin.”
She ducked behind an air conditioner as the assassin’s bullets pinged around her clutching the Jiri Shimatsu assault rifle close to her chest. Sounds of conflict engulfed them becoming as regular as crickets on a night evening. Franklin and she breathed heavily beside each other shivering in the cold despite their workout.
Each nearby bullet strike on the concrete caused them to flinch ever so slightly. They could smell the acrid odor of abandoned food stands, propellant, and explosive in the breeze. Ukiyo’s lights fell away shortly beyond them, and the expansive darkness of the river began.
“We must be close to Lanie’s position now.”
“That’s assuming the Red Witch decided to stay at the command post as agreed.”
“Not one for following orders.”
“To put it mildly.
I don’t want to say redheads are crazy but Melisandre…”
Yuri shouted across from the other rooftop, “Are you out of breath already?
Pity. I was just getting warmed up.”
They looked toward one another, “I really hate this guy. Go to ground?”
Miya nodded and looked a fire escape leading down to an alley, “It’s our best chance to lose him. I’ll cover you.”
He lunged forward and leapt across the gap while she fired quick bursts toward Yuri’s position. His suit was armored against pistol rounds but not the same 6.5mm Shimatsu he carried in his carbine. Franklin crashed into the fire escape and continued to suppress him while Miya did the same. Yuri leaned over and fired at them fleeing down the stairs. Sparks flew but they were quick enough to dodge his incoming fire and rode the ladder down to the darkened pavement below.
Yuri peered over the edge as he broke the empty rifle down and returned it to its place. “These little mice keep running to their holes.” He jumped down to fire escape, holding just long enough to arrest his descent as he dangled then dropped to the pavement in stages. While on the run he drew a heavy pistol to shoot a luckless Yakuza, only the chase mattered to him now. “It’s all very frustrating.”
His foes made for the pier side while Yuri raced around the corner firing at them on the run and reloading without breaking stride. They zig zagged around overturned carts and leapt over piles of debris but looked at their assailant, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Sparks flew as the bullets hit everything from signs to hanging lights while they fired from the hip behind them.
A women’s voice shouted around the corner, “Take cover!”
Miya and Franklin slid on the snowy pavement and faced behind them while reloading. A woman in a high red ponytail turned the corner with her companions leveling their assault rifles down the narrow junk laden street. They opened fire till the barrels steamed steadily advancing from cover. Yuri dove to the side at the sight of the drum magazines to take cover from the enfilade his pistol shots knocked a Sumiyama Heavies down. His armor took most of the blow before he staggered up with a hand from his squaddie.
The cousins stood behind the armored Sumi troops their rifles still leveled in case Yuri reappeared. “You sure took your time.”
“We were being chased by a cyborg assassin.”
“Were you drinking, Miya, or have a fever?” The squad walked backward toward the Sumiyama Command Post marked by the flapping Sashimono banners, sensor and comms terminal, and extra perimeter security. A machine gun nest and Huyen’s Powerman MOD kept watch over the roofs and alleys nearby.
“Cyborg assassin. Kids these days.”
“Some parts of him are artificial, Lanie. He blocked my sword with his arm, and his eyes are silver.”
“Whatever you say, Franklin.
Is it done?”
“Watanabe got away. We need to get to our mechs.” He looked at his watch, “Their Mechs should be coming online anytime now.”
She thumbed the safety and let the rifle slip in its sling. The 9th Ghost (Hell’s Angels) patch and Tai-I (Captain) insignia stood out on her grey fatigues and body armor. “Another boat is coming along shortly.”
Every light on the comm-set went live as they heard a large explosion nearby. One of her subordinates shouted at them. “Warhammer!”
“That settles it.”
Franklin snatched the radio bud from one of her bodyguards, “Huyen, pick us up and get us on the boat before it sinks.”
Huyen’s Powerman dropped the autocannon onto the quay which cracked under its weight. Miya and he stood on the edge as the Industrialmech repositioned itself to pick them up. “Franklin, are you sure about this?”
The Powerman’s PA came live as the mech moved cautiously. <<“I’ll be gentle, Princess.”>> Miya’s mind was in a panic as the Mech’s hand drew near, she exhaled as it grasped her gently. Yuri showed himself once more, but Huyen turned the mech’s armored back to them as Shimazu’s men returned fire at the interloper.
A wake formed behind the mech as it strode toward the barge, carrying Miya and Franklin mere meters from death in icy water within hands capable of bending I-beams or throwing light vehicles. He placed them onboard to the astonished and embattled crew. Miya finally inhaled when she landed on the deck-boards, “Let’s not do this again.”
Huyen’s voice came through his mech as he pulled the missile launchers from the cargo compartments of his mech. <<“Get those Mechs online or I’m fish food.”>>
He jetted away toward Watanabe’s Warhammer where MODs were being blasted away by its withering firepower. The river churned with the heat from his weaponry and roiled with each machine felled by his weapons or those of his allies.
Making Strides through the Rising Tides[]
Masamori's Ukiyo District, Hachiman, Draconis Combine
The icy cold waters outside Ukiyo’s wharves were filled with flaming oil slicks as the Jirigawa Battlemech Trio slew ICE powered Industrialmechs pretending to be Warriors. Most were sealed against the freezing cold but not all.
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Warhammer Heavy 'mech
At its center stood a gray Warhammer a head taller than its flanking Panthers with flickering electric blue flames like Rave tattoos under black lights. Each Battlemech engaged concentrations of Sumiyama soldiers on the wharf, forcing them into traps laid within Ukiyo’s darkened heart.
Across from them was a full Lance of 7th Ghost stood across from them the metallic chain accents, handheld weapons, and sharp angles of their more refined MODs silhouetted against city lights. Pirate crossbones were painted over the DCMS’ Logo at their center.
<<“Three on Four, I still think the odds are not in your favor, Mister Sakamoto.”>>
Big Blue stood beside Miya’s Kyudo ‘Heartpiercer’ and Tuyen and Shan’s juiced, jumping PowerMen.
“I don’t mind sharing center stage with my allies and it shows I have more friends than you.”
“It’s not the quantity but their quality.”
Franklin switched over the Battlenet, “For once I agree with Watanabe.
Huyen, Shan keep those Panthers at bay.
Miya, and I will handle him.”
Affirmative lights zipped across his HUD as he brought the Komodo up to full combat power. BB’s DI computer adjusted laser optics to the surrounding environment, myomers tensed beneath armor plate as it raised the Telos Thundershot to its firing position.
A gout of flame leapt from the launcher charring the blue paint while a single missile leapt forward like a giant Gyrojet from the ‘rocket revolver.’ Clusters from Heartpiercer Shugenja X’s missiles arced upward and came down in top attack mode while its Victory Nickel laser slammed into Watanabe’s Warhammer.
The Battlemech staggered under the assault bobbing as its gyro and arms corrected the imbalance caused by the impact and unsteady riverbed beneath him. Icy water sizzled to steam beneath shattered plate and explosions caused it to erupt like geysers around the machine. Twisted helices of supercharged particles invisible to the naked eye launched from it PPCs but the shots were fouled by the more mobile machines.
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Panther Light 'Mech
Along the flanks Huyen and Shan’s light autocannons traded fire between their laser armed foes. The Yamato River broiled beneath the superheated exhaust of their jump jets while the Panthers’ famed leg jets were flooded. Although normally agile foes these Panther were unable to overcome the silty riverbed and moved in slow motion compared to the leaping PowerMen.
Watanabe’s Warhammer stood astride a partially exposed tidal breakwater in a Mech scale horse stance. The machine pumped coolant through its heat sinks into the river melting the river’s thin icy crust.
Miya felt the heat surge throughout her machine contrasting sharply with the outside weather. Sweat poured into the band of her neurohelmet with each new volley of missiles and laser beam. Each hit from the WHR-6Ks PPCs caused the DI computer to momentarily flash static on the circular armor diagram drawing attention to her mech’s diminishing integrity.
“Miya, stay out of range and support the others.”
The last Thundershot roared from the revolver cylinder and once the smoke cleared one of the Warhammer’s PPC arms hung limply from its shoulders. Steam billowed out where the tortured steel touched water. Big Blue dropped the Thundershot into the shallows exposing the sextet of lasers hidden behind it.
On the outside the PowerMen’s Mydron chain-guns flashed orange as they tore into their foes. Hot brass fell from the Mech sized rifle and into the dark waters with each burst. The Panther’s bite was stronger by half, and both sets of pilots were veterans from the last war. Incandescent beam burns appeared on the Powerman and their weapons that cooled to a dull red before fading away.
He leapt into the fray within a hundred meters of the flayed Warhammer, a blunt instrument and thus perfect fit for its pilot. His remaining PPC pointed toward him, but the magnetic torus couldn’t focus so close to its target. Its particles decayed into luminescent wisps of ball lightning.
Four missiles streaked toward him one of which splintered and caught fire when engaged by his Yori Flyswatter. The three remaining delivered their explosive payload worrying close to his cockpit. Both of Watanabe’s Victory 23R lasers burned clean black tracks along its formerly pristine surface. Franklin’s quartet of 23Rs scorched armor plating flashing ice into vapor along its path. Miya’s laser torched even more armor yet Watanabe’s scarred mech held its ground.
His allies drew nearer ignoring their primary targets to punish Franklin for his audacity and preserve their organization. Franklin held Big Blue’s hands up like a boxer to protect the mech’s head (and his cockpit) as he closed the gap between them churning forth waves that crashed into the breakwater.
Redbeam lasers and Telos missiles were fired with naked fury while the Warhammer’s pulse lasers and missiles dug deep into the Komodo’s armored scales but failed to penetrate anything vital. The vicious assault staggered the Mechwarrior but left the Jiri's Panthers vulnerable to assault by the rest of the Lance. Mydron chain guns gave a throaty bellow of tungsten rounds toward one while Miya’s missiles and laser tore into the unprotected flanks of the other.
Franklin smelled charred metal through his cockpit’s life support, “Customer support at Ibuki better be good.” He slaved the datagloves to manual, the DI computer interpreted a left cross and right uppercut combo into the Komodo’s TSM enhanced arms and hyper mobile torso.
Big Blue delivered a blow so crushing that it reverberated throughout the Wharf, shook debris loose from both machines, mangled the WHM-6L’s head, and crumpled its core. Even the Komodo’s factory reinforced joints registered integrity alerts on the command console at the shock.
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Komoto Medium 'Mech in combat.
Watanabe’s heavier mech smashed Big Blue’s upper leg with its own but lost balance and fell backward into the dark water with an immense splash. Franklin looked down at Big Blue’s battered fists and smiled. “Seinaru tawagoto, watashi wa kare o hakai shita”
He paused for a moment more to give the mech a middle finger as it slipped beneath a rising tide.