Chapter 9:

The Surprise Play

Mechanical Chess : The Pawn


Harrison continued ascending in the lift, the ceiling above him parting in a spiral letting in the stadium sounds again. The Game Maker in Mrs. Andross’s absence was speaking to the arena listing off details and facts of the last round as the lift came to a stop. Several of his teammates looked in his direction, only some choosing to light up his coms which he allowed., waiting for Paul to bite so he didn’t seem desperate. Harrison started his trek back to his square activating the hovering function on the Pilgrim. It wasn’t the smoothest ride, but it was faster then running. “A-007.1.” He thought to himself over the amount of noise coming through his headset. It was clearly a unit’s ID number, but it was as partial as a partial could get. The only two things he could gleam was that the unit he saw during his corrupted review wasn’t a Harshawk Unit, it was allied. But a unit with pitch black color schemes, that didn’t ring a bell. And he knew the war like the back of his hand. Harrison wanted to take off his helmet, but he couldn’t while he was moving. His head still ached a bit from the review.

As he came back down from his cloud and landed at D5 he stood in the basking presence of the Queen once again. She towered over him. Looking down right at him. The risk of having to fight her in the next round started to dawn upon him. He was good but he wasn’t good enough to fight a Queen. He hated to admit it but the only times he’d every won against his parents were times when they let him. You can’t truly fight 15 years of experience with some high school courses. They just have too much of a head start.

Harrison looked to his Hud as he noticed Paul Kinbar line light up and quickly disappear. Harrison quickly redialed and he picked up almost immediately. “Paul, I have something I need to run by you before the match begins.” Harrison said. Paul was startled. Even though he tried to connect first to congratulate his win he assumed he was busy talking with other teammates and backed out. But now called out by Harrison he couldn’t find his original words in the wake of Harrison’s question. “Sure Mr. Andross what can I do for you?” Paul asked fidgeting in his harness, an excited Kiera silently listening in in the background. “During my downtime I was researching some war footage to make comparisons of plays and came across a unit’s partial ID that has me a bit lost. I was wondering help me clarify it.” Paul’s nervousness melted away a bit as a familiar subject began to rear its head. This Paul could do. “What was the partial?” Paul said trying to withhold his excitement to sound relaxed and cool. It wasn’t working but would Harrison call out the man trying to help him. “The partial was ‘A-007.1’, and the unit was self was huge, black as the night, glossy even.” Would that ring any bells? Paul thought for a moment racking his brain for his vast knowledge of mechs and the war. Even though he didn’t have veteran parents to fill him in on the more descriptive details like Harrison he still knew enough general knowledge to know naming and identification schemes across the allied nations.

“Well, it’s certainly not much but the partial shows the units battalion number and a personal position in the 10’s with that 1 on the end after the point. The ‘A’ itself could mean any country that ends with an ‘A’, Armenia, Argentina, Russia, China, the list goes on.” Harrison thought about the information. It didn’t help much but it was more then what he had before. “Thank you for the quick response, Paul, I’ll see you in the match.” Before Paul could respond Harrison disconnected and picked up the call with Florence he had holding as the siren for the move timer began. Golem’s move. “You don’t keep the King waiting Harrison, I would advise you not to do that in the future.” Harrison felt a bit put on the spot, but he had things he needs to do so he pushed past the slight unease. “So, what are you thinking?” Harrison asked. Hopeful that he may see some action next round but knowing that she might want to give some of the other pieces some play time as well.

“What I’m thinking is that the Queen won’t move this round or anytime soon. It’s not worth her time to take a pawn. What I’m worried about in regard to you is the heat on your square this early in the match. D5 can be challenged by a Knight and a Queen in the upcoming move. I’m going to try to intercept them in the next move, change their focus from you to more powerful threats forcing them to make a more advantageous decision for the long game. Scoop up the babies or knock down the powerhouse.” Harrison hated being referred to as a baby. A common term for new pilots doubling as a blanket term for Pawns. “Harrison went to object, but the move timer went off with over 4 minutes to spare.” Florence fell quiet as they awaited the move. The Game Maker adjusted his microphone as he began to speak. “GOLEM’S, KNIGHT AT F6 TO D5.” It was too late for Florence’s plan, but it was just perfect for Harrison’s. Another chance to prove his worth.

Harrison began to move to his corner of the square as the audience began to erupt in excitement. Several units from his team looked away from him undoubtedly jealous of the attention he was getting from the enemy team as well as the crowd. “Harrison listen to me, this Knight likes to play dirty. Whatever you do don’t fall for his taunts. He works on attacking you personally to work you up and get you to slip up, then he dives in.” Harrison was about to respond when the coms cut. Harrison looked forward to see the knight entering the square.

Like the other Golem’s the Knight had a gray and black color scheme. His unit was slightly larger than the Pilgrim, a Sebastian unit Harrison thought. They weren’t exactly rare units, but most pilots couldn’t handle the process for controlling two additional arms so finding one with all four was quite rare. The Knight walked to his pedestal and the safety barriers came up around them as the square started to construct the matches terrain. Harrison to his surprise was the defending unit this round, so he had the homefield advantage. His arena of choice was a stock city. No doubt other players have seen and even played on it dozens of times before, but it provided enough cover and variety to make matches much more interesting than they would in a field. Or an unmarked forest.

Buildings and towers were built up around them. Some cars lined the streets as some swirling leaves and rubbish manifested in the air carrying on the breeze. The walls around them turned into long barren grain fields that stretched out to the horizon making sure that the pilots knew where the square stopped. A light layer of snow coated everything, something he couldn’t control. Seasons would randomize on every arena to add some unaffected variety to the fight. Harrison took out his knife again as the match siren sounded and the wall dropped. He quickly ran for cover behind a two-story building being careful to avoid the car beneath his legs. A timer appeared in his hud for seven and half minutes being granted more time then with Adeline because of the named piece rule. More time for higher ranked pieces. A pawn and a pawn, Five minutes. A pawn and a named piece, Seven and a half minutes. A named piece against another named piece, ten minutes. Simple and easy.

The sound of jets echoed through the buildings and alleys as some snow kicked up around from further into the arena. The knight had just taken off. Harrison knew if he’s spotted, he doesn’t have the right equipment to handle a flying opponent. He needed to find him. Harrison held up his knife at angle out in front of him just passed the building he was hiding behinds roof. He turned it slightly looking for the reflection of the knight until he found him. Floating dead center in the middle of the four city blocks slowly scanning his environment. As Harrison got ready to act but stopped as he noticed a long antenna rise out from the knight’s shoulder. Soon after one of Harrison’s com links lit up. ’Link Unknown’ was the pop up he got; he could only guess what this was as he accepted the call. “Is this thee Harrison Andross, the legacy pick. Son of Luther AND Amy Andross?”

Harrison didn’t respond. He kept a keen eye on the knight through his knife as he awaited a move or opening of some kind. “Well anyway,” The Knight continued. “My name is Nick Zoulis. I know this isn’t the best time for formalities as we’re both trying to kill each other but I just have to speak to thee Harrison Andross, especially right after his first win.” Harrison could feel the sarcasm in his voice oozing from his com like syrup down pancakes. Nick was both mocking and annoying just like Florence had said. But he wouldn’t let that shake him. “Why do you choose to talk to your opponent?” Harrison asked to distract him. “Well, I guess it’s because I get bored. Fighting an opponent without the banter just feels like a chore. Move, act, fight, win over and over. It’s the most boring act in the world.” Harrison noticed Nick’s unit looking in his general direction through the knife. Slowly gliding closer as to mask his approach. “Had he noticed the knife?” he thought as he reached into his right leg compartment and took out a proximity mine. “But if I can get my opponent talking it puts me at ease. Gives me the entertainment I’m looking for and who knows,” Nick rushed the side of the building where Harrison was peaking over the buildings ledge only to get a face full of explosion.” Causing his flight array to buckle as it launched him into the side of the arena, several car alarms going off as the front face of ‘Dan’s Café collapsed in on itself. Harrison ducked behind his knew spot, an alley to his left as he waited for another sound to determine where Nick was. “The com link was to keep him monologuing long enough to track his position.” Harrison thought to himself, opening his right leg compartment again posting proximity mines all over the alley’s walls just low enough so their lights couldn’t be seen from above.

“You figured it out faster then most do.” Harrison heard through his com as the sound of jets took to the sky once more. Harrison remained silent thinking that if he spoke the tracker may use his words as a secondary location to expose him. “There’s no point being quiet now”, Nick said. “I won’t make the same mistake again.” As Harrison tried moving his unit away from all to realistic smell of the dumpsters a red beam shined through the light falling snow. Acting quickly, he dove into the center street as the sniper shot rang out through the arena missing him but hitting his mines causing a chain reaction destroying the alley and most of the building’s sides. “He can see me.” Harrison thought as he began to run as more and more beams and shots rang out behind him as he moved dashing behind buildings and cars hoping to keep ahead of the gunfire but being forced to move as the barrage continued. Behind Nick were two skyscrapers that would allow Harrison to get up to Nick’s level. Harrison opened both of his storage compartments as he ran starting to flip over buildings in an unpredictable manner as Nick flew lower exchanging his sniper for a semi-automatic.

Now these guns had normal classifications but a sniper and semi-automatic built for a unit were massive. One round was the size of a large watermelon. A magazine was the size of a desk or a dining room table. Each round tore through walls and the ground alike riddling everything with a fine layer of debris and destruction wherever Harrison went. Exactly what he needed. As he ran several dozen proximity mines fell from his legs, but Nick didn’t notice as he focused on the Pilgrim itself. As large as it was and how noticeable with its red color scheme, you’d think it’d be slower but Harrison made quick work moving around the arena not ripping or stumbling. He couldn’t to stop or hesitate or he’d be caught. Once depleted Harrison ducked behind a building on the edge of the map, much to Nick’s surprise. He stopped his barrage and landed on the ground, finding almost no flat place to land because off all the destruction.

“Out of steam huh,” Nick said. Sauntering down the street keeping his eyes trained on the corner the Pilgrim ducked behind. Gun at the ready. “I’m impressed you could move that well in a Gazelle Unit. Pilots often underestimate with the length of the forearms how to properly move, but you seem to have it down.” Nick looked around the town, store fronts had been tattered, newspaper boxes lay destroyed as shreds of paper intermingled with the falling snow. Several cars were on fire. A true warzone. “Ya know, this is close to real deal.” Nick said replacing his magazine, tossing it the side crushing a fire hydrant causing water to spout up into the street. The snow started to get more intense as a blizzard began to role in. “This is as close to the war either of us is going to get to.” Harrison continued to listen to the monologue as he picked up a car by the rear wheel wells and hung it up by his shoulders, ready to swing it at Nick when he jumped out. “No matter how well you do here, we will never achieve greatness like them. Like Florence, like the Queen, like your parents. You and I will always be second fiddle to the true heroes of the war. Even if you do become the greatest pilot in the League.”

Harrison held his tongue as an itch he didn’t watch to scratch nagged at the back of his mind with Nick’s words. He was right. NO matter how ell he performed his parents and other veterans fought and died for their country becoming legends like no one had ever seen. As much of a similar act to the war the League could provide it wasn’t the same as fighting for your country. He could be great, but he’d never truly be the greatest. Harrison clenched his teeth holding the car a bit higher. Nick noticed the front end of the car Harrison was holding come into view over the ledge of a building on his left. He rose his gun as he searched for something to say.

“You got lucky with Adeline boy, she was weak, like you. But you ain’t going to get lucky with me. Your greatness, your legacy. It ends here.” Nick jumped around the corner opening fire, but nothing was there except a car impaled to the side of the building with a light post. Shocked he turned a round only to see the bottom side of one collide with his head launching him back several yards coming to a rest in what was the turn lane, clearing a path through the rubble in a big sweep from where he was hit. Nick came to his senses as he noticed a red flashing light right in his face. He picked himself up quickly trying to get away before all around him was riddled with explosions blanketing the ground in red and orange plumes followed by gray and black smoke flying everywhere. Nick was starting to sweat. Harrison had hit him twice, fooled him twice. He wasn’t falling for his taunts as he thought he would. All that studying all those interviews about how to get into his head. Useless. He’d have to start fighting for real. Nick ran a diagnostic test as the wind picked up and the snow increased. His main head carapace was damaged, and his antenna was gone. Even if he wanted to communicate, he couldn’t. Nick took flight again flying through the streets or what was left of them to find Harrison. Whenever he turned a corner, he shot first. Whenever he heard a piece of debris fall, he rushed to it. He hadn’t gotten one lick in yet and time was running out. Then he heard it. The familiar chime of com being linked. It would be risky, but it would be necessary if he had any chance of getting some licks on Harrison before the timer ran out.

“I see you have my antenna.” Nick said, trying to downplay his anxious tone. No response. Nick noticed that even without it his tracker was still locating Harrison. Not willing to wait around even as the blizzard was at full force Harrison took to the sky buzzing around everywhere hoping to catch a glimpse of a leg or an arm ducking behind cover as he came by. Exhausted, Nick landed on the roof of one of the skyscrapers looking down at the arena. Harrison may have had explosions, but he doesn’t have anything long range to get him here. Nick heard his tracker bing as a marker appeared right in the intersection below him and jumped down with all his might, hoping to cripple the Pilgrim for an immediate boost in points. When he landed, he felt nothing but the loose ground under his feet, and saw his antenna attached to a small sentry turret that adjusted to look at Nick before shooting at him. Nick infuriatedly crushed the sentry with his foot and tried to launch again before the rapid approach of footsteps came from his right. Turning to meet Harrison he was blinded by a punch from a long red arm as his viewing monitor cracked glitching between all his cameras.

He swung around wildly getting out his SMG and firing in all directions not sure if he was hitting Harrison but not willing to take the chance. Harrison punched him again in the back of the head making him turn around praying that his auto repair function could fix his cameras before the round ended. He wasn’t willing to admit defeat yet as he saw the one-minute mark blip past in his hud. Nick centered himself yelling in his cockpit as he set his jets to max power sending a shockwave through the streets clearing the smoke and snow revealing the devastation again in full as he took off only to be snagged by something, severely damaging his leg in the process. Red warning lights going off all around Nick in his cockpit. He looked down through his cracked lenses and noticed a long cable reaching from the ground tied around his leg.

“A frickin power cable?!” Nick thought as he desperately tried to pull it free only stopping when he noticed he was doing more damage to his leg. Then he noticed them. All over the ground little whit dots crawled out of the rubble on little legs. They must have been the size of wash tub each with a little rotating head that now focused on Nick. They were bigger then the turret he already destroyed, and their were easily a dozen of them or so. Nick tried desperately to fly again when he felt a tug on the cable. He looked down once more to see Harrison on the street holding the cable in both hands as he began to swing it around. Nick felt futile as the momentum around him grew as Harrison whipped the cable into the side of one of the buildings severely damaging Nick’s flight array. He peeled him away sending shard of glass falling to the street below and began spinning the cable again, whipping him into the other skyscraper.

Nick fell as the cable went slack. With no flight array to keep him airborne he tumbled out of his crater in the building and began to fall, but not before Harrison gave the cord one more good yank to center him in the middle of the board. Before he could move the turrets began lighting Nick up. A symphony or rings and dings broke as the yellow flash of gunfire blinded Nick everywhere he looked. “How could this happen?” Xavier thought, droning out the gunfire. “I lost to a baby of all pieces; a pawn fresh out of the gate.”  Nick flipped onto his back as the gunfire stopped. Harrison stood in what used to be a hardware store looking down at Nick as his turrets began rolling back to him, clamoring over themselves as he put down a cylindrical rack that they filed into. He inserted them back into his leg as he walked over to Nick, looking down at him.

Nick looked upon Harrison in the light of the fires and what remained of the streetlights. His crimson coat dirty and specked but not damaged except for one near miss from a bullet on his shoulder. “All that effort, for a scrape.” Nick thought. They continued to look at each other as Harrison began to raise his antenna. He put out the com link and Nick without much of a choice accepted. “Next time,” Harrison started. “focus on your game and not your mouth.” With that the match siren rang out as Harrison, for the second time in a row, was declared the winner of square D5.

Real Aire
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Joe Gold
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