Chapter 5: Crazy/Ready to Rumble.
The high-pitched whine of the low-altitude transport's engines echoed through the surface of the crater.
"So, what make is it?" The worker yelled over it, leisurely working at the securing the tarpaulin draped mech's anchor points to the transport's towing frame.
"I really can't say!" Yseni tried to not look as nervous as he was. He was helping the worker with the connections, all the while making sure that the mech's identity stayed hidden. It was the one he had spent the years of his life on, and this day, he and Daryll were getting it transferred to their workshop.
They had already moved the mech away from his old place and out into a nearby empty crater and covered it to hide its silhouette.
"Give me a bone here. I'll stay quiet, I swear." The worker pulled at the tarp around the holes they had made for the anchors, trying to peek inside.
"Hey-" Yseni reached out to stop him, but Daryll reached him before he could.
She wrapped an arm around him and gave him a smile. "You really should stop while you're ahead."
The worker dropped the tarp.
"You know," she whispered, her voice dropping an octave, "Before you're just a head."
"Uh-" The worker dropped his jaw.
"Seriously though, hurry up. We've been here long enough." She let him go with a pat on the back and made her way to the passenger seat of the transport.
"Welp." Yseni raised his wrench and moved to secure the last anchor on his side. "You heard her."
The worker stared blankly for a second, before grabbing his own wrench, "... Yeah," and continued working on his own side.
The flight to the Solstice Belt was short and uneventful. Daryll navigated them to the workshop and opened the retractable roof, while Yseni lowered the mech down into the workspace and into the empty mech hangar.
Yseni stared at the other mech hangar, which now held Daryll's Dust Devil (holy accidental alliteration, batman), or its mangled remains, anyway. It looked much worse off in reality than it did at the end of the 1v5. Yseni was surprised it lasted to the end of that at all.
"She was a beaut." Daryll sighed from behind him. He turned, and found her gazing longingly at the mech's cockpit.
"She is." Yseni agreed. He had also noticed that the transport crew was gone. He went up to his own mech and pulled off the tarp.
The two mech stood there, side by side. One beaten and battered, though well taken care of, and the other marred with age despite just being built.
"Think you can work with these?" Daryll asked.
"... Probably. I can try, anyway."
Daryll gave him a pat on his back. "Alright then. I'll go get us a match."
That gave Yseni pause. He whipped back around to find Daryll moving to the door.
"Right now?" He asked, perplexed. "We don't even have a battle ready mech!"
Daryll turned around and grinned, "Trust me," and walked right out the door.
---
Daryll jogged starward through the Solstice market's avenues, flanked by low buildings, makeshift structures, and a bustle of activity. She liked the noise—the footsteps, the shouts of hawkers, the low hum of hover engines and the laughter and chatter of conversation—it felt like the Sync.
Her gaze was fixed beyond the horizon, where a massive column of the Port's superstructure met and connected with Versa, acting as the central gateway to the rest of Port Limitless. Its edges shone blindingly bright, the structure the only thing tall enough to catch and reflect the light of New Horizons, the system's star.
There was no atmosphere to disperse its light here—no blue skies, just the black expanse of space. She had been on just one planet that had an atmosphere and the day had felt like something straight from a fairy tale.
Daryll shaded her eyes from the sudden brightness as the pillar reflected the star right into them. She would have looked directly at the starlight had she been able to, but human physique was much too fragile and following her mech-pilled impulses was plain stupid.
A part of her mind itched to take a swig from her flask, her hand resting over it before pulling away. It eased the disconnect between the sync and Boring Human. It also made her do stupid things like make friends lose jobs. Daryll tugged out an energy bar instead and gnawed at it instead.
The streets widened, the crowd thickened, and Daryll wiped off a bead of sweat as she reached the structure's base. It stood there, enormous, a mix of metal and stone, almost a giant spear thrust into the asteroid.
"I want a mech that can do that," she mumbled and took another bite out of the energy bar.
That wasn't her destination this day, as much as she wanted to ride her mech up its grav lifts and into the Overburn. No, her destination was a large building beside the structure. A logo consisting of seven circles in a hexagonal grid, with all but the one at the center filled, marked it as a registration point for the Overburn. Its overseers insisted that all registration and sales be done physically.
Daryll half-jogged through the courtyard surrounding it, ignoring the various contest criers, mechanics, watching parties, whatever. Her hands were itching. She wanted a fight.
She entered the building and walked past the ticket booths, beyond the competition boards, stopping at the queue for match registrations.
It had been an age since Daryll had applied for a challenge match. She typically went for competitions, and she had to admit that the slow queues and long wait times were definite contributors to that. This time, however, she and Yseni would need more money than a simple competition win, and she had a plan for that.
"Give me a solo challenge," Daryll demanded as soon as it was her turn.
"What rank?" asked the lady behind the counter. She waved for Daryll to present her ID, and Daryll complied with a flick on her terminal, her information popping up on the lady's screen.
"Dunno. Someone high." Daryll leaned against the counter, trying to get a closer look at the monitor. That earned her a side-eyed glare from the lady, followed by a shake of the head.
"3415's up today. Vinny. Sniper." The lady replied after a moment of scouring the list of Pilots that had applied to be open for challenge duels.
"What," Daryll spotted the lady's name on a placard on the desk. "Axiel, you want me to fall asleep? Higher."
Axiel looked up from the monitor for the first time since the conversation's beginning. She crossed her arms and raised a brow in exasperation, and maybe a hint of amusement. "Really?" She asked.
"Yep."
Axiel stared at her for a second, then cracked her fingers and resumed her scouring of whatever databases the Overburn used.
"2132. Name's-"
"Too low, higher." Daryl shook her head.
"What?" Axiel gave out a dry, mocking laugh. "Someone in one grand?"
"Someone in the top hundred."
"Don't be ridiculous." Axiel chided.
Daryll knew why she would think that. Her own rank among the Tier III pilots was in the four thousands, courtesy of the fact that most contests did not count towards your ranking, not unless it was one hosted by the Overburn.
"Give me a top hundred." Her decision wasn't because of plain overconfidence, though there was a hint of that too. She needed to fight a top ranker for her plan to succeed.
Axiel leaned back in her chair and smirked. That was definitely amusement. "You need to be in the top five hundred for that."
"That's bullshit." Daryll took a bite out of her energy bar. "Give me the highest you can."
"You won't have the points." Axiel replied.
Daryll tapped the top of her monitor.
Axiel rolled her eyes and checked it. Her eyes furrowed as she read the quantity on her screen. "...Why do you have so many points?"
Daryll leaned in and whispered, "I beat people up for a living."
Axiel sighed. She gestured at Daryll to wait for a moment and went back to dissecting her screen.
The Overburn required for its pilots to gain points through wins before they could challenge a higher ranking opponent. The higher the rank difference, the higher the point cost. It was a measure to prevent the top rankers from being spammed with challenge requests.
"Rank 173 has applied for one a week later." Axiel finished her search. "Torak. Pretty well known scout." She looked up and gave Daryll the sweetest of smiles. "He'll tear you to pieces"
"Never heard of him." Daryll lied through her grin. "He'll have to do."
Axiel shrugged and got to finalizing the request. "... Done. You'll get pinged if he accepts"
Daryll's grin deepened. "Watch the match!"
"Get it confirmed first." Axiel chuckled.
Daryll winked at her before she moved out and dove into the crowd that surrounded the competition boards.
She didn't need to check those out today, but it had become a force of habit. Besides, she might have to rot in the challenge queues again if Torak declined, so she might as well waste some time here.
The screens flickered, cycling through the posters and adverts of different competitions being held. She noted a few familiar names, some recurring contests, some high-profile bouts.
It didn't do it for her. Normally she'd have a list of competitions that she'd want to view or participate in, but not this time. Her thoughts kept circling back to the upcoming match. Torak was among the few pilots she'd referenced when she'd first started using a scout type mech. She'd learnt much from his use of the faster mech's agility. She wanted to fight him so bad.
She really wished he'd accept.
A hand clasped her shoulders, shaking her out of her thoughts.
Instincts kicked in. She ducked and swatted the hand away, then took a step back and dropped into a fighting stance, facing her opponent.
Middle-aged. Stocky. About half a head shorter than her. Somewhat handsome with a permanent sneer. His hands were raised above his head, though with a nonchalance that belied his confidence.
Torak.
"Speak of the devil..." She muttered and dropped her stance.
"Well, you're feisty," Torak smirked, then gestured to a less crowded section of the building. Daryll followed.
"I heard you're the one that challenged me." Torak leaned against a wall and nodded towards the registrations counter. Daryll followed the gesture to spot a winking Axiel.
"... You heard right."
Torak chuckled and waved a hand at his terminal. A holo-screen popped up with a notification about the match invite.
"Rank 4132, Huh?" He glared at her. "Where'd you get the confidence from, kid?"
"I learned from the best." Daryll shrugged.
"Oh?"
"Your mum." She grinned at the seasoned pilot.
Torak froze for a moment before bursting into laughter. "You've got guts!"
"And the crazy." Daryll replied. "Cmon man, accept the invite. I really wanna fight you."
Torak waved a hand and then studied Daryll closely. Something clicked as his eyes widened.
"Wait. I think I know you..." He checked something on his terminal before turning back to her, a grin soon reforming upon his face.
"Ooooh, yes, I know you." He pointed at her with a fat finger. "You're that chick with the red scout. I've seen your match. You're good."
Daryll was taken aback. Why would a high ranker like him pay attention to her matches? "I'm honored, I guess?"
Torak laughed and quickly tapped at his terminal. Daryll's own buzzed with a notification, one for the acceptance of the duel. She snapped her head from the terminal to Torak.
"I guess Bracket would want me to send his regards." Torak smiled, a hint of malice in his eyes.
It took a second for Daryll to understand what had happened. Bracket was one of the guys she had defeated in that 1v5. He had wept. It had left an impression on her.
"You know that guy?"
"He's part of my crew. And I plan to give you a taste of your own medicine," Torak declared, a challenging glint in his eyes.
Daryll's eyes narrowed as she met his gaze. "That won't scare me."
"Good" Torak grinned. "It'll be a fun match, Red."
"That it will." Daryll smirked.
This would be fun.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Hesreth
Hesreth I have successfully resisted the urge to name her Axiel Lottle.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone