Chapter 3: Tournament III - Fair and Square

Her second opponent, the rank 87 Terry Burfair, piloted a light attacker mech that wielded a sword. Light attackers were scary, really scary, when they got the jump on a long ranged enemy.

Using their speed, they could easily close in on the enemy, dodging past their effective range. They then used their quick movements to stick to and dismantle the enemy without giving them a chance to fight back. An assassination, so to speak.

Fortunately, she didn’t pilot a long ranged mech or she’d have been in huge trouble.

As Annabelle looked at the abridged footage of Terry’s previous fight, she found that he perfectly brought out his light attacker’s strengths. The light Galinn faced a medium rifleman who started out inside a canyon range, much like Ignar did.

Unlike Annabelle who could only reach the plains in the time it took Ignar to escape the canyons, Terry was fast enough to intercept his opponent in the rocky corridors. In an ambush, he first destroyed the rifleman’s laser gun and then gutted the helpless mech like a fish. 

“Too bad his next opponent is me. If he runs away for too long, he’ll be automatically disqualified, but if he attacks me head on, I’ll simply crush him,” Annabelle said as she closed the footage. It might seem disrespectful to write her opponent off like this, but the Vasair really was a bad matchup for the Galinn.

Even if Terry got the jump on her, as long as he doesn’t destroy something critical in his alpha strike, her Vasair has the raw power to overwhelm any tricks that Terry might pull. On a good day, she might even be able to dismantle his light mech without her sword. 

The only worry was that light mechs usually had a small laser as a side arm or were armed with a  ballistic missile. Terry might score a lucky hit.

Still, she had confidence that she would win. Holding that conviction close to her heart, Annabelle closed her eyes and turned on the cockpit pod’s neural interface. With a faint buzz, her mind was transported into her mech’s nervous system.

 

Annabelle blinked as she returned to the battlefield, experiencing the world through her mech’s sensors. Her sensors detected the smell of something burning, translating to the faint smell of smoke, and when she turned to look, she saw the Bismuth’s smoldering wreckage next to her kneeling mech.

“Oh... I’m back?”

She was in the same place as she was when she defeated Ignar’s Bismuth. Did that mean her mech hadn’t been repaired? She realized that the director hadn’t said anything about it. She just assumed that they would be given fresh mechs at the start of every battle.

Annabelle chewed her lips as she ran a quick diagnostics check of her systems and what she saw did not look good. A lot of her armor had been heated from her fight against the Bismuth and the residual heat slow-cooked some of the more sensitive parts of her mech, so she wasn’t at full strength. Bits of her armor were slagged as well from direct hits from laser fire, making it that much more likely for Terry to hit a lucky shot.

“Yikes.” All hopes of having a leisurely battle were gone. Now she’ll have to concentrate on spreading out the pistol fire over her entire armor. 

She sighed and looked around. The surroundings looked different. One of the force fields was gone, and the canyon ranges that had bordered the edge of the battlefield now stretched into the distance. 

“Ah. So they combined our battlefield into a bigger battlefield by removing the force field. So after each round, the amount of area we have to play with doubles?”

That meant that Terry should still be in the canyons. She might be able to corner him in there. 

The only problem was the difference in their speeds. Since she was so much slower than he was, she might not be able to catch up to him before he escaped to the plains where he could take full advantage of his superior mobility.

As she charged toward the canyons in as straight a line as possible, the open channel crackled to life. 

“Yo, Annabelle,” Terry said. 

“Hi there.” What does he want?

“Don’t worry. I won’t make this hard for you. I’ll meet you in the canyons.”

Annabelle raised her eyebrows. What trick was Terry pulling? 

“If you’re trying to make me let down my guard, you have another thing coming,” she retorted. Just in case he was distracting her, she looked around, paying special attention to her sensors as she ran. No sign of Terry’s Galinn, though.

Terry laughed. “This tournament is an exhibition match, you know? I’ve already showcased my strength at catching my opponents off guard. Now, it’s time to show off my ability to beat a superior mech type in close combat. If I win, great. If I lose, then dragging out the match will just make me look bad.”

As he finished speaking, Annabelle’s sensors caught a whiff of a heat signature. It was small; as she looked into the sky, she saw white beams of light flying into the sky. Terry was broadcasting his location with his laser pistol.

After the initial burst of shots to catch her attention, additional beams were intermittently fired into the air.

The ephemeral pillars of light were like the lures of an anglerfish, offering her assurance that it wasn’t a trick. While she was still suspicious, Annabelle decided to head toward the source of the shots anyway. 

Wandering around when her opponent told her where he was made her look like an idiot if Terry hadn’t been lying. Not to mention Terry had always been the honest type of guy.

As she neared, the firing stopped. 

She shrugged—that much was within her expectations. The Galinn had both superior sensors and emitted a lower heat signature when he wasn’t firing an energy weapon. It made sense that Terry caught her before she could maintain a lock on his mech. 

While he was kind enough to tell her where he was, he wasn’t dumb enough to let her get the jump on him.

“If only,” she muttered, and raised her guard. 

Terry was probably trying to ambush her, but it won’t work if she had anything to say about it. She simply backed up against a wall vagued concave in shape and held up her sword, readying herself for an attack from any direction.

Seconds ticked by in silence as she waited. Nothing happened, and all that moved was a gust of wind blowing through the canyons, sweeping up a cloud of dust and tumbling some loose rocks along the ground. 

“This should be long enough,” Annabelle muttered. Then, with a smile, she turned on the open channel. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you—”

She trailed off as rocks full down from above her. Annabelle’s heart soared as her prey took the bait. 

“You fell for it—whoa!”

“Shit!”

Annabelle jumped to the side just as something heavy crashed down beside her. 

Mechs were heavy, yes, but a light mech shouldn’t have this much mass. She almost fainted when she saw what she just barely dodged.

The Galinn had leaped down from the top of the canyon in an ambush just as Annabelle predicted. But what he had in his hands exceeded even Annabelle’s expectations. Instead of his sword, the Galinn had in his hands half of his previous opponent’s wreckage.

Half of a whole medium mech!

If that much mass had hit her, she probably would have sustained critical damage, and boom!—game over.

“Damn, how did you know?” Terry demanded after a few more choice swears as he recovered from his jump, drawing his sword.

“Your laser fire was coming from above ground level.” Annabelle did her best to keep her voice even and neutral as she lunged, swinging her sword in a powerful horizontal chop. 

Terry danced back, circling around the fallen mech. It offered an obstacle that Annabelle couldn’t easily bypass. If she tried stepping over it to get to Terry, she might open herself to attack.

She needn’t worried. Terry was dead set on having a head-on battle. He didn’t bother keeping the mech wreckage between them. 

He ran to a more open area and held his sword ready in front of him. “Come!” Terry growled. “I’ll take you down here fair and square.”

The arrogance! While Annabelle was glad he was handing her the victory on a platter, the sheer confidence he exuded even while challenging a warrior mech with a light attacker ticked her off a bit.

“Sure, if you can,” Annabelle shot back. 

She charged forward, firing the small boosters on her back. As soon as the Galinn fell within her range, she swung. 

Without a moment of hesitation, Terry dipped back to let the huge sword just barely miss him. He drew back his sword at the same time, ready for a counterattack.

“You’re mine!” Terry shouted as he charged forward. His drawn back sword jumped forward like a viper, poised to strike the Vasair’s cockpit. 

Annabelle didn’t even hear Terry’s triumphant cry as she sprang her trap. Instead of trying to stop her huge sword’s momentum, she simply released her grip. The sword spun end over end through the air, clattering to a stop on the ground. 

Freed from the burden of her weapon, she swayed to the side. The Galinn’s sword grazed past her.

Then she thrust out her shoulder, ramming her much greater mass into the Galinn. The light attacker never stood a chance and the blow sent it staggering back.

Terry’s surprised cry rang out through the open channel.

“Did you really think I’d make the same mistake twice?” she asked as she urged her Vasair forward. 

“‘If I make her mad and dodge her attack, she’ll be overextended,’ right? You’re an open book, Terry.”

The light attacker waved its sword wildly, trying to fend her off. 

Many of the frantic swings hit her, but there simply wasn’t any force behind them—they barely scratched her armor. She ignored them and pressed on.

“Stay away from me!” Terry shouted, his voice breaking. He backpedalled as fast as he could, but it wasn’t fast enough. 

The Vasair easily caught up and with a punch to its face, sent the Galinn sprawling. 

For a moment, the light attacker laid there, its pilot stunned from the feedback of the fall. Some of its internals were probably scrambled too.

There was plenty of time for Annabelle to walk up next to it and lift her mech’s leg over the light attacker’s sword arm. Then she stepped down, putting her whole weight into the stomp. The limb was crushed without resistance. 

Without a weapon, the Galinn’s fate was sealed.

Terry had been about to get up, but the moment his mech’s arm was crushed, he laid  back down. 

“Damn. I really thought I had you there,” he muttered. 

Annabelle managed to pick up the disappointment in his voice even through the crackly open channel. Even Ignar hadn’t been this upset.

It made sense though. Terry had a lot at stake in this battle. Either he won and advanced further in the tournament, or he lost, hopefully showing off his skills. For the latter reason, he had bravely confronted her head on, despite being at a disadvantage.

If he had won or fought evenly for a while, then his performance would have been noteworthy. Losing in such a one-sided fashion was the worst case scenario for him.

She refused to feel guilty, though.

As bad as she felt for him—he was a nice and honest person—he was still just a target to defeat. 

It was her duty to destroy him in the quickest and most efficient fashion, and engaging in a lengthy and risky sword battle was not the way to go.

Just as he tried to use her to boost his fame, he was just a stepping stone for her as well.

Even a stepping stone deserved respect if they earned it. 

“You did well. I think most people would have been done in by that opening move. Using the wreckage was a brilliant idea,” she said. “You just made a mistake broadcasting your elevation.”

She lifted her mech’s feet again.

Surrendering would have been too humiliating. Terry didn’t say anything as she crushed the cockpit.