Sledge (Katherine-verse AU)

==Overview==
Story focus around the MechWarrior named Sledge, fighting in lower gaming circuits of Solaris VII. As revealed later on in the story Sledge is the fighting name of Siegfried first of the Fox Bloodhouse to undergo their Trial of Position, 
Clan Warriors cannot fight as Solaris Gladiators, due to the inherent dangers to such a valuable and limited asset. Siegfried unknowingly crafts devil's bargain with the Mafia and provides Sonja blackmail material that could not only jeopardize his future but his Bloodname House (and his mother's influence) and by extension disrupt the careful equilibrium of a post-Jihad Lyran Commonwealth.
===Characters===
*Sledge - Star Commander Siegfried of Bloodhouse Fox, Son of Katherine Fox and Vladimir Ward, Clan Warrior, Secret Class 3 Solaris Underground Champion
*Sonja - Canopian woman, Undercover Smoke Jaguar Watch Agent Provocateur
-----
==Chapter 1==
02/14/3080 Location – The Waterworks, Valis City, Equatus, Solaris VII, Lyran Alliance
----
Lithe Mechbunnies and other body painted dancers glowed under the black lights as rough Solaris fans jostled for prime position at the bar or viewing patio. Above them were feeds on the circular viewscreen from The Circle of Equals and Solaris Games Channel as well as the latest in pop music videos from across the Inner Sphere. Then the speakers cut out and the screen above turned a lurid red casting a bloody pall upon those assembled in the Waterworks club. Scrolling text rapidly wrapped around in every language, ‘Pardon the interruption.’ Animated fire turned the text and everything else on the screen black. ‘Now for our live broadcast from…The Underworld.’ 
The camera switched rapidly between different angles showing once smooth beige concrete walls now lined with burn and impact marks. Vulgar graffiti mixed with holographic ad placards for gray market and ‘entertainment’ vendors. Rusted rebar peeking out from beneath the titanic pillars leading up to darkness, like some slowly decaying petrified forest. Bizarrely contorted metal staircases led to doors welded shut. The dim amber light of sodium vapors blinked onto stagnant water covered with slime. Great industrial fans pulled noxious fumes out and generated an eerie creaking echoing throughout The Cistern. 
Then the hall was filed with thunderous bass as computer announcer came online. 
"Your Combatants for this evening’s Class Three All-Star Melee. Start placing your bets right now to buy that lucky lady or lad something special for Valentine’s Day."
A real time money tracker appeared between each section of screen which was populated by the logo of each Mechwarrior. “Your first combatant coming all the way from Solaris City herself…Cable!” The camera pans down from a bright light as a black Wolverine 7K snapped a chain whip filling the area with the grating sounds of steel on stone. 
“Watch your heads…Timber is loose!" Rifling from a gun barrel appears but disappears as the camera zooms out to reveal a Hatchetman 6S with an oversized gun and wicked looking double bitted axe. 
“Wolfsbane on the prowl tonight!”
A dark form moves just outside the light until a 40 ton Blue Flame quadstyle BattleMech creeps down the ramp. Its talons just tapping the concrete below. 
“Champion of the Solaris Four Underground. Give it up for Snake-Eater!” From the darkness comes two glowing green eyes slightly illuminating the face of a goblinoid monster. The camera pans out to reveal a Wyvern IIC equipped with a lance on its offhand. As the spike shoots out the screen turns black. 
The camera focused on the solid battle fists and barrel chest of a dark gray Hunchback. Its arms covered in spikes reaching to the shoulders but heavier on the forearm. “Finally a man who needs no introduction but gets one anyway. The reigning champion of The Cistern who you all know and love…Sledge!” At the final draw of Sledge’s extended pronunciation the screen virtually shattered. Inside the Waterworks the lights followed each shard before mimicking a bounce upon reached the ground before the light settled.
“Now that you know who’s in the fight. You know what you need to do. Get those bets in while you still can. Match starts in twenty minutes. Maybe you will even get lucky tonight!”
The circular viewscreen returned to the normal channels with a live money feed replacing the pop music. The house music changed to something darker but still danceable as a comically large bomb and timer appeared from the ceiling.
A woman, head covered in braids turned black under the red lights, sauntered over to the booking table her pearlescent dress glowing with a riotously colorful swirls. Her strong Canopian patois lingered hauntingly beautiful and clear like song particularly compared to the crass beats that bodily thumped those near the subwoofers. “One hundred k on Sledge to win. Four hundred more for winning with two takedowns.”
“Big bet for a young lady like yourself. Fan of playing the long odds? There are some tough fighters down there, not sure if he can take two of them down on the way to the top.”
“Sledge and I go way back.” She tipped her sunglasses down to show eyes of brilliant amber. “I have gotten lucky with him before.” 
The bookie stared at her as she did so, admiring the brilliantly dressed and exotic attractive woman smelling of the finest perfume he had ever had the pleasure to experience. “You don’t say. Hard to imagine who was the bigger winner.”
She undid her fine crafted chain necklace expertly inlaid with precious metals and brilliant gems seemingly illuminated from the rear. She laid the delicate item on the rough marble countertop with a brilliant tinkling of metal. “I trust this will do for collateral, Signore.”
“Sorry, ma’am.” He gently pushed the necklace back. “We don’t take jewelry for collateral. Only metal bars or Solaris credits.”
“Not even if I have an appraisal card in my name from the Trznadel Confederation.” From a clutch she pulled a holographically stamped and veri-graphed metal card marked with the name ‘Sonja’ detailing how this particular item was worth at least 500,000 backed by TrzCon Credit making it as good as cash in hand. 
“I think that the boss will allow the rules to be bent a little tonight, Miss Sonja. Enjoy the show and best of luck.”
With a wink she turned to depart for her VIP room. “I shall make my own. Always have. Ever since Tarot.”
----
==Chapter 2==
Neon tube lights cast purple or orange hues over Sonja who danced her way through throngs of half-dressed people that almost made it to the privacy of their VIP rooms. Streams of minty vapor drifted from the tube hanging gently from her red lips before joining clouds of acrid smoke emitted from every kind of diverse compound found on Solaris. 
Sonja reached a black door with the appropriate number before opened it with a keycard. The lock chimed and she pushed it open to see a couple making out on the patent leather couch. Both participants looked over the couch as she put her vapor pen and her card back into her purse. She stopped mid-action as inebriated eyes stared at her wondering what was going on. 
“You wanted some privacy I get that. I don’t even mind that you broke in here,” Sonja shrugged, “or care how you did so. It’s not my club. Come back later when I’m done, but for now. Beat it!”
So chastised the girl pulled up her dress top blushing furiously. The guy hopped with only leg in his pants. Sonja watched them depart before the pair disappeared into the crowd. “He has a good butt at least. All gym muscles though so he is probably boring.” She stood next to the couch, pager and remote in hand while changing the projector channel from its spiraling acid trip to the Solaris VII Broadcast Company’s newsfeed. An ever-present timer slowly counting down to the match’s start. 
As a porter wiped down the couch, she clicked on one of the bubbles that caught her attention while muddling lime and sugar behind the tiny bar. “The Ace's High Aerospace league entered the semifinals in the skies over Solaris Four yesterday. The Spirit Cat's Sensidamashi was eliminated by their perennial Draconis League rivals, The Broochi Confederation’s Red Barons. The Cats literally and figuratively ran out of gas and needed to be re-massed by the Barons.”
“At least they are good sports about it. You know the Cats gave it their all.”
“It just wasn’t enough. What a big disappointment for the Clan Council to have their final team out of the running.”
Sonja switched the screen to the house feed where the warm-up act. Two Class I Exoskeleton fight where two Gladiators leapt through the central Cistern on jump jets. She rifled through the spirits as blows from the comically large but very blunt swords echoed off the walls. “No, this bar is a disappointment. How do you not have any Cachaça! Or white rum?” 
A small bottle of Tikonov Grand Vodka was poured instead, “Guess I will settle for a Capiroska.” She tipped the porter before settling on the now clean couch, “These conditions are unbearable.” Drinking deep from a fanciful straw plunged into her drink, “I am going to complain to the Commander.”
Deep below her Sledge checked his watch as the light cut out again revealing a tritium green. 
“Five minutes.” 
He breathed in the foul stench of stagnant seawater and dead fish through the fireproof balaclava attached to his neurohelmet. His headset came to life with a blast of static, “Gladiators Five Minutes to showtime. Complete all final checklists and prepare for release.” 
Sledge confirmed the message as received, closed the ferroglass cockpit and lowered the armored cowl. External sensors began to transfer images of dimly lit gray concrete and bioluminescent green slime to his helmet’s visor. He ensured his five-point restraints were properly placed and comm channel closed. 
<<“Final checklists.”>> 
Who does he think I am? 
I have been piloting a Battlemech since I was a boy. 
“Time to rock and wreck, Sledge.” 
<<“Authentication phrase confirmed.”>> 
Lines of hexadecimal code raced down his left-eye marked all critical systems as green. Ghostly images materialized in the visor as his weapons came online. 
<<“All systems combat ready, Mechwarrior.”>>
The clock ticked down to 0:00 and his admin lock was released. “That was a long twenty minutes. Time to win in five.”
----
Great booms echoed off the crypt-like walls of The Cistern. The Autocannon’s report dampened only by the sheets of water that fell like sand in an hourglass. Gouts of steam threatened to obscure Timber as he rocketed back on his trio of jump jets. His Hatchetman backpedaled madly across slick cement as Cable’s Wolverine leapt through the central ‘Cathedral’ room in hot pursuit.
Although she had the faster machine Cable kept her distance firing her own RAMTECH-9500V which at this range had a telling advantage. Timber expertly maneuvered against her ducking into darkened tunnels and disappearing into openings in order to break line of sight. 
All her senses was in adrenaline-fueled overdrive, she could feel and see her pulse increasing, rivulets of sweat dripped down on her cooling vest. The air was filled with the stale residual smell of her cistern starting point mixed with ozone reminding her that the life support still needed servicing. She’d get to it later, after victory. 
Cable cautiously pursued the Hatchetman through this claustrophobic setting expecting at any moment to find him behind her ready to deal a mortal blow with his cannon. An incessant roar filled the air as growing waterfalls filled the lower levels layering onto the indirect sounds of her Mech’s feet splashing through streams. It was torturous in its own way and distracted her from Cable’s sensor readouts.
A pair of quick heavy reports distantly echoed through the corridors causing some puddles to generate shock waves. Her heart leap in fear and joy at the sounds, “That must be Sledge. Glad he’s not near me. Time to cut down Timber.” Cable pursued Timber with more aggression than before, her mech had 10 tons on the Hatchetman and he couldn’t hide much longer, the Arena was only so big. 
Above her amber lights cut out seemingly at random adding to the already oppressive environment. She knew it was stage effects, heightening the cat and mouse tension of their chase, but her core felt the fear of complete darkness as steadily as the rising water. 
She saw the skeletal outline of a Hatchetman highlighted in one of the lights and took a snapshot with her right arm laser. Variable pulses of burning light streaked across the darkness as they raked down Timber’s left torso. It returned fire on the move couching his left arm lasers as one would covertly carry a pistol. Her displays registered hits to her left torso as she pushed the Wolverine forward, “Fair trade Timber, but there’s no escape for you now.” 
Both gladiators ran forward augmented by their jump jets as they smoothly moved between levels. Cable slid and crashed into a wall as she struggled to keep their balance running along the slick ground. Water splashed, steam rose, and concrete splintered as lasers, ballistics, and missiles were chaotically exchanged as each gladiator sought to take cover from and advantage of the other. 
Timber kept his front toward her denying the option of surgically targeting the torso where a caseless Defiance Mech Hunter pistol was slung low without exposing herself to its firepower. She stayed defensive in the unfamiliar arena trusting her armor and superior range more than his limited supply of volatile ammunition.
Even without specifically targeting it he lasers and missiles found their mark. Its gun fell silent, either by damage or lack of ammo she didn’t care. Timber fired off the surrender flare from the top of its head, the bright flash momentarily revealed the increasingly water-logged and carnage-stricken chamber whose pillars reached up to the darkness like those of a decrepit Cathedral.
Timber walked away to the elevator and Cable sought out other targets closer to the center of the Arena. Neither Mechwarrior saw that the flare’s sickly green light revealed a monstrous goblinoid head crouched like some forgotten gargoyle upon a gallery above. As Cable exited the Wyvern IIC dangled and dropped into the waters just as the light faded behind it.
----
Sledge stalked the lower layers of The Cistern passing beneath cascades of water. Its pilot muttered to himself, “Nice new gimmick. I guess this is what being on a sinking ship would be like.” He paused for a moment listening intently to his surroundings, “However, I have never actually been on a boat. Sometime to investigate when I return to the shores of the Blessed Lake.” Each step of his Hunchback’s rounded feet scattered pieces of flotsam in its wake.
A scrap of steel claws on the concrete behind him caught his attention, “It would of course be you, Wolfsbane.” Sledge scrambled to complete a 180 just as the bestial Blue Flame cleared the corner. “If only you knew the irony of our situation.”
Each gladiator took the measure of their position. Wolfsbane fired its paired RAMTECH-5500V and Hound’s Tooth while the quadruped backpedaled even as Sledge charged forward. A single shot from his Devastator Autocannon, the same kind used by the infamous Hunchback IIC, caused loose concrete chips to be shaken free from their moldering substrates. Stone rained down as gouts of steam spew forth from where the Series 5K HMLs and other lasers flash heated the icy brine. The 200mm shell glancing off the right foreleg of the Blue Flame rending armor panels before it the water erupted in a fearsome geyser as the last bits of energy dissipated.
Within the confines of the drainage tunnels Wolfsbane found its nearest exit cut of by Sledge’s unexpected and continuous charge. Feeling confident it closed the gap its pulse limiter whirred wildly as lasers cut into Sledge’s legs. Its short barrel particle projector beam luckily found the other leg ablating away precious armor. Legs were always a popular target in Arenas which combined with the LVSP not doing enough damage to decapitate a Battlemech by itself had spurred the growth of VSPs throughout Solaris VII in recent years. People forget surprisingly quickly about the Word of Blake who first created them being the bad guys and profiteers eagerly resumed trade with the Trinity Alliance.
The Hunchback had to adopt a martial arts side stance to tilt down and fire the autocannon twice more. His cockpit shook violently enough to rattle his teeth as the Battlemech’s frame endured the recoil. Two direct hits shattered the Blue Flame’s torso shell while the arm mounted heavy lasers cut some of its four legs. Small explosions bloomed from the Blue Flame caused by a cloud of high explosive LBX sub-munitions from the M-Pod that burst forward from the opposite torso like lethal spores.
Both retained control of their machines Wolfsbane aided by his mech’s stability despite losing out in the firepower duel. Sledge attempted to stomp down the Blue Flame’s taloned ‘paws’ with the Hunchback’s pillar like leg but Wolfsbane’s leg was more agile. Its talons raked Sledge’s left leg severing myomer strands and bending structure in the process.
In his cockpit, Sledge horridly worked to stay upright trusting his skill and the omni-gyro installed in this INDIGO Hunchback. He felt the heat level rise as the cockpit turned sauna. His heart sank when the DI computer flashed ‘Autocannon Cycling Error, Weapon Jammed’ across his visor. He slammed a fist on the console and tasted blood in his mouth. “Blya! Rabotay, kusok der'ma!”
Heavily damaged Wolfsbane began slowly retreating toward the ramps to the upper levels putting distance between itself and the withering firepower of now inoperable Devastator Autocannon. Cooling oil dripped from the Blue Flame’s body and the torso with the Snub-Nose PPC was wrecked meaning it only had the MVSPs. “Trying to outlast a hobbled Hunchback, huh Wolfsbane.”
They both lacked armor in at least one of their legs. In any other situation the damage Wolfsbane had taken would be cause for a surrender flare. However, if Sledge didn’t make it up those ramps before the water rose and flooded his leg he wasn’t going anywhere. That would still count as a technical takedown on its Gladiator’s record and be embarrassing for the brand he had spent two years building.
Sledge hobbled forward; its right knee joint wobbled unsteadily due to the damage done. It’s cooling system struggled to return the system to equilibrium as myomer expanded robbing him of even more mobility. As a Clan Mechwarrior Sledge trained and was expected to push the performance envelope of his machine and right now it was do or die. The DI computer protested but was silenced with a single command. Despite the damage and heat the Hunchback lurched forward before firing off the heavy lasers once more. They found their mark and the tortured beast was put down with moderate damage to his own machine. Unbalanced it tilted over to rest on its back looking more like a fresh kill on some savannah with two legs pointed to the ceiling than a Battlemech from his cockpit. His system returned to equilibrium, and he pushed through the water as quickly as he machine would allow.
Off-camera previously hidden Hyena SalvageMechs descended on the kill carting away the fallen Battlemech and its components in their massive claws before they were further damaged by the rising tide.
----
==Chapter 3==
Although the cameras providing her visor feeds didn’t register the streams of water Cable heard the rivulets of water falling onto the armored canopy above her. Musty smells from outside enveloped her as the hackles raised on her neck. Her adrenaline surged as she peered carefully into each new darkened tunnel expecting to see an adversary but finding nothing. It had been too long since Sledge’s cannon had been heard. Grating sounds from the industrial equipment down here could conceal the tell-tale rasp of Wolfsbane’s claws. Beneath her the Cistern’s lower levels flooded, slowly forcing out anyone that might have been lurking there. Unless they had already planned an ambush and lay in wait.
This was meant to be her big debut, but the Arenas of the Reaches were nothing compared to The Cistern. Although it was limited to Class 3 matches, due to cost of maintenance, it had the sinister complexity and claustrophobic chaos of Class 6 ones such as Ishiyama and The Factory.
Her peripheral vision caught the movement of Snake-Eater before the Wyvern opened fire at close range. Expertly aimed laser pulses cut along the Wolverine’s right breast as Cable returned fire with her own. The sudden heat of the lasers caused the watery film both were covered into to evaporate creating a faint mist. The mist mixed with the smoke of their short-range missiles, Snake-Eater’s streaks impacted Cable’s arms while her own scattered across his torso and head.
Snake-Eater furiously pressed forward sensing an opportunity to decisively end this Gladiatrix. At such a close range their weapons had no chance of missing, but it wasn’t yet enough to end their conflict. Cable was on the backfoot facing the fresh Clan Gladiator that had so cowardly waited to ambush her. 
Timber had worked her over hard compromised her armor everywhere. Snake-Eater plunged its lance into her damaged leg striking the Wolverine’s hip and forcing her to adjust the balance of the machine. Even though she was in a bad way that hadn’t ever stopped her ever since she was a youth in that ghetto of the Rasalhague Reaches. Her chain whip struck out its serrated metals edges biting into the Wyvern’s arm laser. The myomer strands inside wrapped it taut holding the Wyvern in place face to face with her.
“Kramer and Associates sends their regards Clansman.”
Concealed weapon ports opened revealing the five Magna 3cm lasers concealed within the Wolverine’s left torso. At this close range they couldn’t miss. Their firepower combined with her head mounted Victory Heartbeat and pair of IWW Fours savaged the restrained Battlemech. Although was caught by surprise Snake-Eater was not going to stand idly while this freeborn woman damaged his machine. The Wyvern pulled hard with its offhand breaking the grapple while Cable’s chain whip returned with a crack.
Snake-Eater kept up the pressure its lasers and missiles ripping Cable’s Wolverine to shreds. She gave as good scoring shots with everyone one of her weapons even as she struggled mightily against the overwhelming offensive. Her Battlemech couldn’t handle the assault, it fell upon the grimy waterlogged concrete of The Cistern with crash. Wasting no time or even waiting for the surrender flare Snake-Eater plunged its lance weapon into the fallen machine critically damaging its engine shielding. Moments later the tunnel filled with a vibrant purplish light as the flare launched from its head frill, but Snake-Eater was already seeking out its next prey.
Sonja no longer cared about the comfortable couch or the sweet drink that she had enjoyed up to this moment. The Champion’s live odds grew longer as betters saw him dumping ammunition and realized that his Devastator Autocannon was out of commission. A quick cut showed Snake-Eater at an intimidating angle readying itself for another ambush. 
Her nervous hands were covering her mouth and the entire world shrunk to the live viewscreen. The earlier confident bravado had completely vanished. “Be careful.”
----
Although the cameras providing her visor feeds didn’t register the streams of water Cable heard the rivulets of water falling onto the armored canopy above her. Musty smells from outside enveloped her as the hackles raised on her neck. Her adrenaline surged as she peered carefully into each new darkened tunnel expecting to see an adversary but finding nothing. It had been too long since Sledge’s cannon had been heard. Grating sounds from the industrial equipment down here could conceal the tell-tale rasp of Wolfsbane’s claws. Beneath her the Cistern’s lower levels flooded, slowly forcing out anyone that might have been lurking there. Unless they had already planned an ambush and lay in wait.
This was meant to be her big debut, but the Arenas of the Reaches were nothing compared to The Cistern. Although it was limited to Class 3 matches, due to cost of maintenance, it had the sinister complexity and claustrophobic chaos of Class 6 ones such as Ishiyama and The Factory.
Her peripheral vision caught the movement of Snake-Eater before the Wyvern opened fire at close range. Expertly aimed laser pulses cut along the Wolverine’s right breast as Cable returned fire with her own. The sudden heat of the lasers caused the watery film both were covered into to evaporate creating a faint mist. The mist mixed with the smoke of their short-range missiles, Snake-Eater’s streaks impacted Cable’s arms while her own scattered across his torso and head.
Snake-Eater furiously pressed forward sensing an opportunity to decisively end this Gladiatrix. At such a close range their weapons had no chance of missing, but it wasn’t yet enough to end their conflict. Cable was on the backfoot facing the fresh Clan Gladiator that had so cowardly waited to ambush her. 
Timber had worked her over hard compromised her armor everywhere. Snake-Eater plunged its lance into her damaged leg striking the Wolverine’s hip and forcing her to adjust the balance of the machine. Even though she was in a bad way that hadn’t ever stopped her ever since she was a youth in that ghetto of the Rasalhague Reaches. Her chain whip struck out its serrated metals edges biting into the Wyvern’s arm laser. The myomer strands inside wrapped it taut holding the Wyvern in place face to face with her.
“Kramer and Associates sends their regards Clansman.”
Concealed weapon ports opened revealing the five Magna 3cm lasers concealed within the Wolverine’s left torso. At this close range they couldn’t miss. Their firepower combined with her head mounted Victory Heartbeat and pair of IWW Fours savaged the restrained Battlemech. Although was caught by surprise Snake-Eater was not going to stand idly while this freeborn woman damaged his machine. The Wyvern pulled hard with its offhand breaking the grapple while Cable’s chain whip returned with a crack.
Snake-Eater kept up the pressure its lasers and missiles ripping Cable’s Wolverine to shreds. She gave as good scoring shots with everyone one of her weapons even as she struggled mightily against the overwhelming offensive. Her Battlemech couldn’t handle the assault, it fell upon the grimy waterlogged concrete of The Cistern with crash. Wasting no time or even waiting for the surrender flare Snake-Eater plunged its lance into the fallen machine critically damaging its engine shielding. Moments later the tunnel filled with a vibrant purplish light as the flare launched from its head frill, but Snake-Eater was already seeking out its next prey.
The Champion’s live odds grew longer as betters saw him dumping ammunition and realized that his Devastator Autocannon was out of commission. A quick cut showed Snake-Eater at an intimidating angle readying itself for another ambush. Sonja no longer cared about the comfortable couch or sweet drink that she had enjoyed up to this moment. Her mind didn't even register that the bet she had made was becoming more and more valuable as people hedged against the favorite. Her nervous hands were covering her mouth and the entire world shrunk to the live viewscreen. The earlier confident bravado had completely vanished. “Please, be careful.”
==Chapter 4==
Sledge heard the last of his rounds clang to the concrete like some brass gong. “Kalev, you and I are going to have some words when this is through.” He disabled the Ultra AC/20 and primed the remaining M-Pods. “The Devastator worked perfectly when I piloted this mech last. You best not gotten too comfortable being a kept Champion.”
His Hunchback’s knee wobbled furiously, “Especially since I did all the hard work first.”
Waterfalls cascaded from above filling the air with its roar and blinding his sensors in mist. He had no idea how many Gladiators remained although nearly six minutes had elapsed. His heavy lasers pointed toward the other entrances on this level from outstretched arms. 
A dark shape appeared above him on the other side of the crashing water. An M-Pod burst scattering its deadly explosive sub-munitions in a focused cone as the capacitors of his heavy medium lasers unleashed controlled energy into the Wyvern. Despite this its aim was true, Sledge felt the impact in his bones as the momentum of the Wyvern’s flying knee sent his Battlemech reeling backward. Arm spikes splintered under the impact leaving shards embedded in Snake-Eater’s shins. Inside the cockpit the Mechwarrior’s head slammed into the command chair as the Hunchback’s fall was broken by hitting a concrete wall. Unable to maintain balance on the rebound the mech to the side giving its pilot whiplash. Blood dripped from a busted lip onto the digital displays as the Mechwarrior saw stars.
Snake-Eater landed perfectly where he had been as spike shards shook loose and clattered to the floor. The Wyvern loomed over him its fearsome lance gleaming in the rippling light like a spearfisherman waiting for its prey. Its battle-worn visage seemed even more menacing than its carefully sculpted image. 
Sledge pushed off the wall unsteadily rising to the challenge. Saturated cement dust coated the outside like a gray plaster. Carefully edited camera angles would give it the impression of a man of stone emerging from the wall itself. Its hands tauntingly beckoned toward the Wyvern inviting more hostilities and physically manifesting its Mechwarrior’s confidence in their abilities despite the crippled equipment they operated.
The final M-Pod spread its deadly payload as the Wyvern fired its alternate weapons keeping its arms free in case the firepower wasn’t enough. Another blast to Snake-Eater’s head shredded armor while shaking up the Mechwarrior inside. 
Finally, both Battlemechs exchanged blows. Sledge’s right battlefist parried the lengthy lance with a downward chop block aided by its remaining spikes. Sparks spewed forth from the metal lance head as it grazed the stone floor. Simultaneous the left delivered a punishing uppercut to the Wyvern’s ‘chin’ sending the Battlemech’s head bobbing.
The thunderous booms was soon replaced by the familiar crash of the waterfall. Sledge was still standing in a boxer’s stance, or a kickboxer probably that had taken a few hits to legs. Snake-Eater hadn’t triggered his surrender flare but wasn’t moving and he was out of ammo. The Hunchback went in for a reap and found that while the Wyvern was not compliant it didn’t react at all to the motions. It crashed sideways onto the floor before Sledge pinned it down with his less damaged leg.
His radio came alive with the voice of Arena Controller and big boss Lorenzo Bergamaschi. The waterfall ebbed and its noise was replaced with the dull ebb of the Cistern’s pumping system. 
<<“Well done Sledge. You are victorious and made it look good too. The Championship Belt will be presented when your Mech is repaired.”>>
“Negative, Lorenzo. I won it in this condition. We will display it in this condition. Capisce?”
<<“As you wish, Gladiator.”>> He could faintly hear more words, <<“Il tuo partner è più comprensivo.”>> (Your partner is more understanding).
<<“Anche lui non è così bravo.”>> (He’s also not as good)
“Tu parli italiano?” (You speak Italian?)
<<“Always have, Lorenzo.”>>
----
==Chapter 5==
A brilliant light woke the black woman curled up on the sofa in a loosely tied plum-colored kimono. She looked at her watch, she had dozed off for two hours already. “To early for dawn.”
She rose to look at the dropship which elegantly arced across Solaris’ oceans to the space above. Its light faded to the reflected ambience of Able, Solaris VII’s moon, which hung low in the sky. Dawn was not far off. “Windows darken!”
The smart window glass of the penthouse turned opaque. The material not only concealed the individuals behind it but was resistant to laser microphones. It was very useful for espionage or criminal purposes. Not that there was much distinction in either on Solaris VII. In fact, the lines were even more blurred than she had been briefed before departing Tarot the first time.
“You better not have left me. I would hate to have to come all the way here only to leave…” She blinked away sleep and cursed herself that she hadn’t removed her makeup before falling asleep. Her red and black comm-pad had found its way to floor. She retrieved it to check her account balance before returning it to her Kimono’s matching Kinchaku bag. At least she had put her necklace and earrings away first, right next to her karambit and compact. “Seven times richer than before.”
Sonja retied the narrow sash around her waist only to stop as she heard the elevator’s ding and footsteps. Of a man as far as she could discern, athletic, wearing fashionable shoes. She left the sash loose, shook her hair free, and spread out the collar and upper part to show off before settling into a reclined position on the sofa. 
Outside a young man with light slicked back brown hair and a sharp fitting gray suit noticed something off about the door and shrugged. “Let them try to get me.”
His door opened to complete darkness, typically not a good sign but at the same time if the mafia wanted to kill you, they’d normally be a man about it and do it in a well-lit room. He smelled familiar scents, citrus, honeydew, and a spice he was never good at describing or pronouncing. Something that was very expensive and not sold outside the Magistracy of Canopus. Sonja’s sultry voice filled in the gaps. “Good morning, Mister Sledge. I was waiting all night for you.”
“Lorenzo said I had to stay till dawn if I wanted to get paid.”
“Glad to see you at least had time to take a shower and put on a nice suit.” In the dim light he could only see her slender fingers reach toward her chin in silhouette. She dropped the overly cute inflections for her own. “Is that a hint of cologne even. How considerate.”
He turned on the rest of the lights revealing about as much as he expected to see from her, which was frequently flirting with obscene and certainly not Clan standard. The door closed on its own as he clunked down his compact pistol, keys, and wallet next to a bar between the living room and kitchen. Its shelves were lined with spirits from across the Inner Sphere. Sledge poured himself a shot and downed it just as quickly. 
“I had expected to see someone here when I arrived. Figured it would be a woman. Didn’t expect it to be you. Nice dress where did you get it?”
“From an Okiya in Kobe.”
“I heard they shoot Smoke Jaguars on sight there. Something about bay turtles. Seems a bit of an overreaction but probably safe practice.”
“Well, we don’t go about plastering our Clan’s totem all over ourselves when instead we can be bright beautiful Canopians." 
Her voice deepened to a hard whisper that was still meant to be overheard, "Unless you are particularly bold like Malice.”
“If you want me to pour you a drink you are out of luck. Trespassers pour their own.”
“I just wanted to stop by and catch up. I chased the other girl off. She was blonde, blue eyed, bubbly, and too boring for my darling, Sledge.”
“A true humanitarian. She sounds dreadfully just like mother at one time.” Sledge commented
“Then I saved you both a great deal of discomfort. Trespasser, I didn’t think we left on such bad blood. I’ve been a fan since even before you lost your first bout. Speaking of bouts, how’s your partner?”
Sledge looked down at his bruised knuckles, downed another drink, and wrapped cold whisky stones around his hand. “The worst of the swelling should go down in about a week, but he won’t be picking up the Mechbunnies at the Club for a few months. Lorenzo managed to talk me out of breaking both his nose and neck. So I settled for some ribs and our business arrangement. It’s just hard to find someone trustworthy to work with on this planet.” 
“What about our baby?” Cold water poured down Sledge’s spine quenching his headaches and the Skye Scotch he just drank. A former lover coming back after a year mentioning the word baby was terrifying to anyone but particularly him. Then he realized she was asking him.
“Our baby? I don’t remember seeing your signature on any of the expense reports.”
She appeared beside him without a footfall. He looked down to see that she was barefoot and mostly bare-chested under the tenuously holding folds. Sonja rifled through the bottles in the way only a former bartender could, found the bottle of her beloved Cachaça, and poured a shot for each over lime. Her crimson fingernails traced a path right to his heart before she withdrew them. The tiny shot glass hit the bar top just hard enough to be heard without shattering. 
“You wouldn’t have even had it if it weren’t for me!”
“You lied and used me to get your sister close enough to Morgana to almost kill her.” accused Sledge
“You want truth!” Sonja bent her head just in time enough to amplify her patois accent and make braids bounce. “Malice is only my half-sister! We are both daughters of ilKhan Leo Showers, but from different bloodhouses.”
She took the glass she poured from him and downed it too with each word growing more animated.
“You want more. You weren’t even my mission, Siegfried. Everything between us is just collateral damage to Malice’s. I told them she shouldn’t have come. At least until you completed your Trial of Position and left because she was going to screw everything up like she always does. Nothing was going to happen to Morgana and everything between them was between them. I had nothing to do with it other than let her crash at my place until another could be arranged. It was all bad luck. I didn’t even know who you were when we met. My mission was to infiltrate the Solaris Underground, but I was an outsider even if I was a fan and knew more than most people. I needed a way in, so I took the job at Anchorage Ales to be close to the Blood Pit and Tech School, and you needed to be a Gladiator so bad...because otherwise you were going to go crazy and light up the Technical School…because we are Clan Trueborns and its. in. our. blood." 
She stopped and both silently started at each others eyes for a tense moment, “Now kiss me you beautiful idiot!”
----
Siegfried stood there for another long moment in front of the increasingly undressed Sonja, “No.”
She was stunned silent before, a “Que?” eked out of Sonja’s mouth in an accent he hadn’t heard. Sig guessed it was the one she had learned as a plantation Sibkin before she acquired additional training. Despite growing up as a Wolf Trueborn some of his pronunciations remained Tamarese. Unwilling to give up she shrugged down one of her dress sides until it was hanging tenuously off her. “You are really saying no to this?”
“I am. You cannot seriously expect me to welcome a Smoke Jaguar Watch Operative back into my life.” 
He lifted the dress side back to her shoulders and saw a volatile mix of emotions brewing in her eyes. “or my bed. MIM must really think I am a fool.”
Sonja kept her eyes on him while rearranging and tying the obi around her waist. Her head lifted violently as the knot was pulled taut with a firm stroke. “Fine, I have given you the easy option, but you are my mission now Siegfried Davion-Steiner. Except now you just don’t get to sleep with me.”
“I will rest easier then.”, he Siegfried said.
After retrieving her bag, “Thanks for the drink and brand-new car then.” She turned abruptly before stopping near the pistol that lay just inside the door. “We will see each other again soon.”
----
Sledge
Sledge