FALCON DESTINY

by

Dekafox

Standing on the dias, I tried to look calm and confident, while a part of me wanted to let loose a cry of joy, like a falcon loosed at hack. I had fought through four other rounds to get this far, the final match for the right to bear the Bloodname Hazen, and to pass my genes on into the sacred gene pool, the highest honor for all Clansmen. Glancing over at my opposition I took in his cool, collected stance, dark, brooding eyes under mousy-brown hair. As his eyes met mine I could have sworn I felt a jolt wash over me like a fusionairre, a strong type of drink favored by warriors like me, pouring down the throat. I returned my gaze to the Oathmaster as she stood before the large funnel with a clear tube at the very bottom, termed a gravity funnel by the scientists I believe, but here today to decide the manner of combat.

"I am the Oathmaster, and will represent House Hazen in these matters. Do you concur warriors?" Her voice carried easily across the gathered crowd behind us without any need for amplification.

"Seyla," my opponent and I responded, as if we had but one voice.

"What happens here, warriors, will bind us until we all shall fall." As she raised her arms, she looked out into the crowd of warriors waiting to see what would happen. "You represent the best of House Hazen and have so proven. You will now battle for the right and honor to claim a Hazen Bloodname, one of the 25 passed down from our very beginnings." Turning to face me, she intoned, "You are Llewelyn and are twenty-one years old. Tell us why you are worthy to fight for the Bloodname of Hazen."

I straightened more, as I proudly proclaimed my deeds. "I was nominated by Aenas Hazen for my bravery and heroism, having defeated a star of Wolf 'Mechs on Quarrel personally. I won Star Commander rank in my initial Trial of Position and have proved myself worthy of Star Captain rank.. I have defeated three Mechwarriors and a pilot to be here."

She then turned to my enemy and fellow competitor for the Bloodname. "You are Jared and are twenty-four years old. Tell us why you are worthy."

As he rattled off his own accomplishments I let my eyes drift to the shining coin held in my palm. Light glinted softly from the word Llewelyn etched in the face as I flipped it over, to show the jade falcon stooping for the kill. At that moment, it seemed to speak to me, telling me that I must not fail, just as Turkina, the jade falcon of our founder, returned to life to chastize her for doubting herself after she watched her comrade DeChavelier die.

I had always found that story an inspiration, and even now I found myself mouthing to myself the passage from the Rememberance, the epic poem that detailed our history which began four hundred years ago, when the Great Father Aleksandr Kerensky led the former Star League Defense Force from the colonized worlds of the Inner Sphere to beyond the Periphery, where his son Nicholas in his wisdom created the Clans, and established the Trials and other traditions that bound us together.

"You have shown yourself worthy to fight for the honor to be called Hazen." The Oathmaster's voice cut through my daydreaming, and I looked back up to see her standing at the funnel. "Present the token of your legitimate right to be here."

As we both handed the coins to her and stepped back, she raised both coins, one in each hand. "These coins will pursue one another in the Well of Decision. This randomness imitates the conditions of battle, which no warrior can control. A worthy warrior must rise above the difficulties and defeat even superior enemies, overcome even apparently overwhelming obstacles. The Trial of Bloodright reflects this chaos of war. One of the bearers of these two coins will emerge as the hunter, who chooses the style of combat. The other will then decide the venue. You both understand this well?"

"Seyla" we confirmed.

Setting each coin in a groove on the side of the funnel, she pressed a button, releasing the coins to spiral around the inside of the well. Rolling faster and faster, I quickly lost track of which coin was which. Finally, they slammed together at the base, both dropping down the hole in the center, into the cylinder. Popping the cylinder free, she took care to remove the coins in the correct order, while I tried to hide the anticipation from my expression.

"The hunter is Jared," she said, holding up his coin in her right hand, "and Llewelyn will choose the venue."

As he turned to look at me, he actually seemed to smirk. Schooling my expression, I couldn't hide the angry tic of one corner of my mouth, and he seemed to smirk even more at that. "The hunter does not see any reason to soil his hands with the blood of this upstart. We shall fight augmented, so that I may show him how to truly pilot a 'Mech."

Quashing my anger I turned back to the Oathmaster. "So be it," she said. "Where shall you be hunted, Star Captain Llewelyn?"

Turning my head to return his smirk, I answered, "On the moon of this planet, two hours hence." I had just returned from defeating a Shadow Hawk IIC on the lunar surface, and two hours would give him enough time to get there, but not enough to acclimate to it. His smile just widened.

* * * * *

As I waited in the cockpit of my 50-ton Nova Omnimech for the Tech to finish his final checklist, I gazed out across the empty, cratered surface, still puzzled by that smile. With the tonnage limit at 70 he was probably piloting a Summoner 'Mech.

Glancing down at the displays, I pulled up the specs on the Summoner, and brought it's image up next to that of my 'Mech. The Summoner was a more traditional OmniMech design, a 10 meter tall humanoid avatar of war. The design had been termed a Thor when first seen by the Inner Sphere in the Clan Invasion 80 years ago, and it was easy to see why from the primary weapons configuration, with the man-made lightning of a PPC barrel on the right arm, and the long muzzle of an autocannon on the other. Lightning and Thunder.

In comparison my Nova was almost squat, with a long torso more like that of some very short aerospace fighter. Instead of a waist joint, the legs were attached directly to the sides of the torso, which produced the squat look, and which meant I couldn't torso-twist far at all. Attached to the outside of the same joint, each of the two arms mounted 6 ER Medium Lasers. While the damage from one by itself could be shrugged off, a full salvo would let them know they'd been touched.

"Prepare!" the Oathmaster's voice came over the comm. Making sure my neurohelmet was seated properly, I brought the fusion engine online, the low thrumming of it powering up reverberating through the deckplates.

"Please initiate voice cross-check," the on-board computer lilted. To keep 'Mechs from being operated by unauthorized personnel, each pilot programs the machine with a unique phrase that only he knows, and without which the weapons are locked out.

"I am Jade Falcon."

"Engines online. Weapons online. Sensors online. All systems nominal." As the computer beeped acknowledgment, I slowly pressed down on the foot pedals, throttling up to a lazy 54kph lope, kicking up lunar dust with each step. Hands resting lightly on the twin joysticks, I shifted the reticles slightly, waiting for a contact. There!

Spotting the 'Mech at the edge of my range, the targeting computer identified it as a Summoner, M configuration. Throttling up to the full 85 kph, my Nova ate up the distance separating us rapidly. He fired a ranging shot with his PPC as we neared effective range, but instead the man-made lightning struck the ground a few meters to the left.

Slamming my feet down, the pedals pressed flat against the floor, triggering my jump jets. Rising on streams of ionized plasma I pulled the left-hand trigger, stabbing six ruby beams his way from my left arm. At this distance, only two connected, melting some armor off his right arm and leg, before I dropped down inside the crater I had been aiming for.

Turning, I brought all twelve medium lasers to bear and waited for him to approach. This strategy had worked last round, and should work again, I thought-- until he came barreling over the edge of the crater and slammed the 'Mech into me.

"Savashri!" I cursed, barely managing to keep my feet as armor plates rained down to the ground from the impact. I dodged to the side, his follow up punch knocking a half-ton of armor off my hip joint while I got in a few good laser shots, scorching and melting already damaged armor over his left torso.

While I dodged a couple more swings, I activated the comm, cursing him soundly over it. "Freebirth surat! A Trial is supposed to be honorable combat, not barbarian Spheroid brawling!"

His taunted me with a dark chuckle, continuing his physical assault and punctuating his words with shots from his LB-10X autocannon that sanded away yet more armor over the heart of my 'Mech. "If you are so blind as to follow zellbringen, you were lost before you stepped onto the field. Everyone knows we will never see true combat, so once I have my Bloodname I am guaranteed my giftake will be used in the genepool while yours I will take great satisfaction in burning."

Shocked and angered at his words, I stopped moving, allowing him to connect with a kick slamming into my left leg's internal structure, while another PPC shot punched through the armor on the right torso, melting off some shielding on the fusion engine within. "Warning, damage critical," came the atonal warming from the onboard computer, knocking me out of my momentary paralysis.

Screaming a Falcon cry of rage, I pulled both triggers tight, heat filling the cockpit as the engine spiked to deliver enough energy to power all twelve lasers. As alarms went off around me, the computer announced, "Heat overload. Shutting down," and triggered the emergency shutdown sequence, leaving me in the dark as cockpit monitors winked out, cockpit lights faded to black, and the HUD vanished. I continued to scream my anger at him a few moments long, ignoring that and squeezing the ineffective triggers as if I could power them purely with the force of my rage.

My throat raw, I let myself fall back in the command couch, arms dropping loosely over the armrests. I peered out through the cockpit's canopy, and blinked in surprise at not seeing the Summoner anywhere.

The computer chose that moment to bring the 'Mech back online, the sensors showing me what had happened. Of that last barrage, most of the shots had scored armor over his left arm and right torso, but two had found their mark on the head, burning through into the cockpit and vaporizing the honorless surat as they punched out the other side. I was now a Hazen... and yet, there was a sour taste in my mouth that his words had put there, rather than the sweet taste of victory I should have had.

* * * * *

A couple days later I was resting in my quarters, reviewing a battlerom from a skirmish with forces in the Lyran Commonwealth when the announcement chime went off. "Enter," I called.

A large warrior in the uniform of a Galaxy Commander stepped in. "I presume I am addressing Llewelyn Hazen, quiaff?"

I nodded, flipping the display off, leaving the image of an AS-7K Atlas, one of the more powerful Inner Sphere 'Mechs, to fade as I turned my seat to face him. "Aff, Galaxy Commander. I am he."

He nodded, stepping into the room and letting the door close behind him. "Your skills have been brought to my attention, as well as the, how shall I put this, words exchanged between you and your opponent in the final round to the Bloodname contest." If he noticed the glimmer of anger in my eyes at that, he didn't give any sign. "Unfortunately he is but a symptom of a larger problem infecting us. With the Clan Homeworlds closed to us, we are slowly losing our way. There are those of us willing to change that though, and that is why I am here. A new Galaxy is being formed under my command, and our Khan believes you would be an excellent addition to our second Cluster. Our mission will be to strike at the cause of all this, Devlin Stone's Republic. We will open the way to take Terra and truly restore the Star League."

I snapped up, alert at his last words. My Trial had shown me there were more and more aberrations of the Clan way like Jared, embracing barbarian Inner Sphere ways such as physical combat and subterfuge. However, now I knew there were still true Jade Falcons, and I was being asked to join them to resume what had been started eighty years ago, in that first drive towards Terra and resurrection of the Star League.

That invasion had failed, thanks to the traitor ilKhan, Ulric Kerensky of Clan Wolf, and his fifteen-year Treaty of Tukkayid that the Spheroids wrested from us in the battles on the planet of the same name, with his help. We still had our worlds, but were bound by our honor not to cross that line. Then, before we could resume our honorable combat, the barbarians formed a false Star League and wiped out the Smoke Jaguars, then fought us in a Trial to end the invasion. We Falcons won our battles, but too many others lost, and we were forced to accept peace. We most certainly wouldn't have sat idle, but the renegade Comstar faction Word of Blake attacked everywhere at once with barbaric nuclear and biologic weapons, and we had to defend ourselves. Then came the Civil War, and the loss of contact with the Homeworlds, leaving us in our present predicament with Devlin Stone's Republic of the Sphere holding Terra and the worlds surrounding it, thumbing its nose at us.

Now we were finally going to strike back, and reclaim Terra from the ignorant barbarians holding it. How could I refuse?

"I would be honored, Galaxy Commander, to join your unit," I said as I stood, barely managing to keep my excitement out of my face.

Clasping my hand in a warrior's grip, he nodded. "Welcome to Psi Galaxy, Star Captain. Let the enemies of the Falcons quake in their den as we stoop down upon them."