Mech pilot Kira's Arc

Chapter 4 of 8

Kira charged her mech with Warhorn's voucher and passed the dawn inspection. Now the debt came due. Warhorn met her at the mouth of the arena, where the great stone gates opened onto the sand. He clapped her shoulder like they were old friends. "Full house," he said. "They came to see the thief who built her own machine. Give them blood, Kira. Yours or his. I don't care which fills the seats." He walked off grinning. Kira looked through the gate. The crowd roared under the tall metal battlements. Across the sand waited her opponent, a pit veteran twice her mech's weight. His machine had won here for years. She had never fought this style. Warhorn wanted a show. She wanted to live. She climbed into her cockpit. Her palms sweated on the controls. The pit veteran charged the instant the gate dropped. His fist slammed her mech's shoulder. Steel screamed. Warning lights flooded the cockpit. He drove her backward toward the wall. She had no plan for a fighter this fast and this heavy. Her mech buckled at the knee. A voice broke into her comms. "Left flank's weak. Feint, then hit his knee joint." She knew that voice. San Holo. Her longtime shadow, the mercenary who always turned up when she was cornered. His gang had trailed her across a dozen worlds. She hadn't seen him in months. Now his voice steadied her hands. "You're here," she said. "Always am," San said. "Now, open the panel under your seat. My people planted something." Kira ripped the panel loose. Inside sat a dark core, black metal wrapped in glowing seams that pulsed like moving smoke. "What is it?" "A jump drive. Slot it into your power line. It moves you before he can land a hit." The veteran's fist rose again. Kira jammed the core home. Her mech flickered. The blow struck empty sand. She reappeared behind him, exactly where San said the joint ran weak. She drove her mech's heel into the knee. The veteran's leg folded. His machine crashed down and did not rise. The crowd went wild. They chanted from the high battlements, on their feet, screaming her name. Warhorn stood at the gate, laughing, both arms in the air. She had given him his show. Back in the bay, San waited in his brown jacket, one boot up on her mech's tread. He grinned through his dark beard. "You fight ugly. But you win." "You saved me," Kira said. "I bought you time." His face turned hard. "That core is stolen from the Mech Research Facility. Every hunter in the sector wants it back. I couldn't reach you without using it." He stepped close. "Warhorn saw you vanish and reappear. He'll want that trick in every match now. And the facility will trace it here." Kira looked at the glowing core in her chest plate. She had won the crowd. She had also painted a target on her own machine.