Longhorn

Planet Ceramxylop - Northern Hemisphere, Yi Kon Region - 01.04.5054 - 15:23 hrs

They thought he loved the speed, that he was addicted to the tunnel, but Farrez never told them the truth. Most of the men chased the tunnel for the thrill, seeing how far they could push their Mech-Suits before passing out. These war machines were made for speeds that the pilots weren’t and some simply wouldn’t accept such limitations. There was also the purity of the moment, forcing yourself to be absolutely present because if you fell out, you would fall down.  

Thrusting his Longhorn Mech-Suit down, diving towards the ground, he would either lose the bandit on his tail or crash into the lifeless planet. He accepted there was more of a chance of going to hell than thread through this needle of death.

He felt the suit stiffen from the g-force as he watched the blue stony landscape hurtled towards him. The master safety alert was urging him to pull up as another alarm beeped under the siren, a hot missile was coming his way.

Pitching to the right, he felt his Mech-Suit shudder under the stress. Bracing for the impact, Farrez felt nothing. He heard a popping clap the air behind. Checking his ASS cam, he saw the Yellowjacket was evading away, leaving a cloud of flares.

Jacque clicked on the wire, “Take off. I got this, Junebug.”

With a hard pull up, Farrez leaned into the tunnel as he gained back altitude. “Negative, Ripper, it’s two vs. one now.” Farrez huffed with shallow breaths as he moved into the Yellowjacket’s circle. 

“Check your battery, Junebug.”

Farrez looked down at his E-meter, shocked to find his reserves were offline. They must have been damaged from the last spray the Yellowjacket gave him. “What’s the ETA on our escort?”

“Junebug, I’m ordering you. You’re just chasing him away. I already wasted a missile for you.” Jacque responded, his tone tense with rage.

Everyone wanted the Yellowjacket. Having 23 bodies to his name, all at the QT base had lost someone close to the Yellowjacket’s superior maneuvers. Ripping him apart had become the unofficial main objective of their squadron, despite what the Brass in the Stars said. Every pilot went to his bunk dreaming of the day they got to down that butcher.

“Junebug!” Jacque blared into his ear. 

“Copy,” Farrez realized he fell out of the moment. Reluctantly, he rolled his Mech-Suit North, leaving both Jacque and the Yellowjacket in his ASS cam. Shutting off the wire, Farrez broke down and filled his helmet with his own screams.

Planet Earth - Northern Hemisphere, North America - 04.11.5051 - Sunny Afternoon

Speeding down the street, Farrez cheeks hurt from smiling as he watched the police car shrink in his rear-view mirror. Did they really think they could catch him in his Scorpion R9? The whirling electric engine stretched the buildings into a blur as his tires lifted onto their tippy toes. The vehicle felt like a bird let loose from its cage, finally free to do what it was made for, fulfilling its design.

Quickly though, he found out it wasn’t designed to avoid a little girl running across the street. Most of her body rolled under the car, her limbs clunked against the undercarriage. Slamming on the brakes, the Scorpion slid, leaving a trail of blood and organs.

***

His sentence was 10 years. 

Farrez and his lawyer accepted it without an appeal. 

On day 5, in prison, he discovered the recruiting office on the other side of the Mess Hall. His bunkmate called it the Meat Grinder. The next day he went inside.

It was substantially brighter than the rest of the prison with a lilac scent filling the room. He was surprised to see a pretty, young girl blonde smiling a big pearl-white smile.

“Hi, how can we help you?” She asked with a high, bubbly voice.

Looking around, Farrez couldn’t find the ‘we’ she was talking about. “Mmm, what is this place?”

She lit up with exuberant excitement, “Oh sure, this is the Unicon Military Corporation, we offer prisoners a second chance to serve our society positively.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Well, we offer openings in our company with training and pay. Typically, after a 5 year tour, you’re pardoned of all your crimes.” Her smooth face beamed up at him, her eyes as sweet as candy.

“What’s the catch?” Farrez asked, knowing the type of people housed in this prison.

“Well, we do only offer off-world positions that aren’t currently desirable given their mortality rates.” She bit her red lip. 

“Okay,” he nodded, “Where do I sign up?”

Planet Ceramxylop - Northern Hemisphere, Yi Kon Region - 01.04.5054 - 16:13 hrs

 Listening to the wire, he heard the news, Jacque got ripped. Dead, on some planet he didn’t even know how to pronounce. 

When Farrez joined the Unicon Corp he loved the suffering. He didn’t know if it washed away his sins, he just knew it felt cleansing and that was enough. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t fear pain and death, it just felt like it was where he belonged. 

Farrez suspects that’s what brought him up the ranks so fast, from a Pleb to a Third Class Petty Officer. Somehow, it was the most suicidal pilots that were put in the most expensive suits. 

While he didn’t care about the suits anymore than himself, he did start to care about his squadron. That was the mistake, that was the true suffering. With every dock and charge, he asked the Gods, why him? Why was he the one who made it back? There was relief for still being alive, sure, but that was the part that turned everything bitter. Why? 

Over the hundreds of missions he endured, he developed an ultimate mission, the redemption he needed to make before he got ripped. It was to tear down that goddamn Yellowjacket. 

All their training revolved around the Yellowjacket, it’s capabilities, its weaknesses and even its typical behaviors and common techniques. Everyone wanted him for their own reason, for Farrez it was the fact that the world was making less and less sense as he got older and he would like to believe that killing the Yellowjacket would bring some justice to this world, some sense to it all. 

***

By the time he faced the Yellowjacket again on the battlefield, Farrez was locked in, focused with a diamond purity. After hours of training and studying, he knew what to do. Acting quickly to get in front of the sun, he and his leadman tracked the Yellowjacket and his three escorts, discovering with an aching anticipation, that they were engaged in pursuit. 

“We got spurs on our tail, 09. Heading southwest along the Ricker Pipes, at about Mach 1.4. We got four in formation.” The team leader, Dmi spoke on the wire. 

“I’m locked,” Farrez reported.

“Let’s start baiting them while we’re charged,” Dmi ordered.

Farrez was buzzing. Dmi was a cautious type, if he got any whiff of flankers it would have been a straight retreat but it wasn’t, they were blue and good to go. 

Diving, Farrez’s stomach dropped even faster, forcing him to hold down his vomit. Hitting the deck, Dmi shot off to the west of the Ricker Pipes while Farrez went north along the pipeline. As expected, all four bandits followed Farrez, staying close to what they were there to protect.

Racing along, Farrez made sure to stay as close to the pipe as possible. While they spread out, each patiently waited for a clean shot to take him down. The Yellowjacket was directly behind, the only one down at his altitude. 

“He’s gaining on me, Blood,” Farrez said, worried Dmi was taking his time as usual.

“Coming in for a sweep, less than a minute.” Dmi clicked in. 

Bobbing around, Farrez did his best to wiggle his way out of the Yellowjack’s lock. He was tempted to raise the exterior audio to hear if he was taking potshots but decided it was best just to focus. It was clear from how fast he was gaining that the Yellowjacket wanted to come in for physical contact. As deadly as he was, even the Yellowjacket had someone to report to, and damaging the very pipeline he was supposed to protect would result in a severe reprimand.

“Coming in!” Dmi clicked in, his voice was as calm as a morning breeze.

The familiar roar of his Mech-Suit thundered overhead, explosions shook the sky behind him as Dmi cut through. Farrez didn’t know if he got any of the other bandits, he couldn’t draw his attention away from the Yellowjacket who was still growing in his ASS cam. 

“I’m hit.” Dmi stated, “Going down.”

The Yellowjacket was now close enough that he could easily spray him with his canon but he didn’t. Farrez suspected that the Yellowjacket wanted to take him down the hard way, the fun way. Farrez was more than happy to make it hard for him. Dumping his reserve batteries, he turned on his afterburners. 

He watched as the Yellowjacket shrank behind, feeling the g-force stiffen the limbs of his suit. There was an odd clanging sound that reverberated through his suit and he began to lose speed. Something was dragging him down. Trying to retract his wing span, he felt a hard pull that almost sent him crashing into the pipe. 

The son of a bitch had thrown an EMP net on him, he was stuck. Trying his best not to panic, Farrez checked his ASS cam and saw the Yellowjacket flooding the screen. Screaming with frustration, Farrez decided he was fed up with running away and pulled a hard stop.

Everything happened faster than he had time to comprehend. A wall of wind pushed him back before he was pulled down, tumbling across the pipe. Sparks filled his AR projection before blacking out. The screeching sound of his Mech-Suit sliding along the titanium pipe died off as he came to a stop.

Ejecting his face plate, Farrez breathed in the thin cold air, feeling the hard rocky dust motes hit his face. He heard the escorts circling out, their jets popping above him. The Yellowjacket was half a mile ahead, its limbs twitching as it remained still. 

Farres swung his arm out, feeling the net that was coiled around. Attempting to free himself, Farrez discovered that the net was still attached to the Yellowjacket. He hadn’t disconnected in time.

Thankfully his Longhorn Mech-Suit came equipped with a saw. Hearing the escorts roaring back in, Farrez quickly cut what he could from the net, freeing his arms. Twisting it around his right arm, he shot himself towards the downed Yellowjacket while pulling it in. Spraying it with his canon, unconcern if he penetrated the pipeline.

Reaching the hazard coloured mech, Farrez saw his face plate was opened as well. Looking down, he saw the pilot’s face. He found himself on a precipice, he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The face looking up at him with sheer terror was small and feeble without a single strand of facial hair. 

Looking up, he saw the boy’s escorts were flying off. Farrez’s own were rolling in, reinforcements from the South Bay. They were coming to extract him and save the day. Farrez laughed as he watched the pilot die, his cold breath vanishing in the air. Shaking his head, Farrez knew he was going to get a shiny medal for this.