Chapter 22_Rise of the Mech Smith; The Essence

The arena was electric, an uproar of cheers and chants echoing through the colossal stadium. Holographic displays flickered to life, casting a vivid simulation of the battlefield for the final showdown of the Mech Battle Championship. The terrain shimmered into existence—a hostile warzone of jagged cliffs, rivers of molten lava, and pulsating energy barriers that flickered in and out of existence like deadly mirages.

"And here we are, folks!" boomed Howard Costello, his voice a thunderous presence over the crowd. "The moment we’ve all been waiting for! In the red corner, piloting the Wyvern, the lightning-fast marvel of engineering, is none other than Jackie Stewart! A pilot who’s made a name for herself with unmatched reflexes and daring strategies."

Jim Nance leaned into his microphone, his tone laced with admiration. "That’s right, Howard. Jackie’s fought her way here with grit and determination, proving that precision and speed can go toe-to-toe with raw power. And speaking of power, in the blue corner, piloting the Goliath, we have Eric Kane—the seasoned veteran whose mech has crushed every opponent with brute force and tactical brilliance. This is going to be one for the history books."

The buzzers sounded, and the match was on.

Jackie’s Wyvern launched into action, a sleek blur of metal and energy streaking across the battlefield. Her voice came over the comms, calm but charged with resolve. "Alright, Kane. Let’s see if you can keep up."

"Stewart wastes no time!" Howard exclaimed. "The Wyvern’s already on the move, using its agility to dictate the pace. Look at that precision, folks—she’s weaving through this treacherous terrain like its nothing!"

The Goliath stood motionless for a moment, its operator methodically observing the Wyvern’s movements. Eric’s voice crackled over the comms, measured and unshaken. "Patience wins wars. Let her come to me." The Goliath began to advance, its every step a seismic event. Towering and impervious, the mech exuded menace as it closed the gap.

"That’s a lot of mech to contend with," Jim remarked. "Kane’s playing the waiting game, relying on that thick armor to weather the storm. But can he keep up with Jackie’s relentless speed?"

The Wyvern darted behind a jagged cliff, energy weapons lighting up as Jackie unleashed a flurry of laser fire. The blasts struck the Goliath’s chest plate, leaving bright scorch marks that barely scratched the surface.

"Direct hits from Stewart!" Howard shouted. "But the Goliath’s shrugging them off like mosquito bites. That armor is a fortress!"

Jackie wasn’t deterred. She circled wide, ducking and weaving through the terrain, her fingers dancing over the controls. The Wyvern fired again, targeting the Goliath’s exposed side. Sparks flew as the blasts found a weak spot, drawing a collective gasp from the crowd.

"She’s found an opening!" Jim exclaimed. "Jackie’s relentless pressure is finally paying off. The Goliath’s looking vulnerable!"

But Eric Kane was unfazed. With a flick of a switch, the Goliath’s missile pods deployed, a salvo of rockets streaking toward the Wyvern. Smoke and fire painted the air as the rockets closed in, homing on their agile target.

"Here come the missiles!" Howard yelled. "Can Stewart avoid this onslaught?"

Jackie’s voice was sharp and focused. "Not today." She engaged her thrusters, sending the Wyvern into a series of dazzling aerial maneuvers. The missiles detonated in fiery bursts all around her, but she emerged unscathed, landing gracefully atop a rocky outcrop.

"Unbelievable!" Jim shouted. "That’s some of the best piloting we’ve seen all season. Jackie Stewart is putting on a masterclass!"

The battlefield shifted again as terrain hazards activated. A landslide sent massive boulders tumbling, while glowing energy barriers materialized to cut off escape routes. The Goliath plowed through the chaos like an unstoppable juggernaut, while Jackie nimbly maneuvered the Wyvern through narrow passages and over treacherous gaps.

"This is a tactical chess match," Howard observed. "Kane’s using brute strength to dominate the terrain, but Jackie’s adaptability is keeping her one step ahead. This is the battle we’ve been waiting for!"

As the crowd roared, Jackie saw her moment. As it adjusted to crush another boulder, the Goliath briefly exposed its reactor casing. She charged, the Wyvern vaulting into the air in a breathtaking somersault. Plasma cannons charged to full power, Jackie unleashed a precision shot that struck the reactor’s vulnerable point. The impact sent the Goliath reeling, sparks flying as its systems faltered.

"She’s done it!" Jim exclaimed. "The Goliath is on the ropes! One more strike could seal the deal!"

Jackie smirked, her hands steady on the controls. "Let’s finish this." The Wyvern lined up for the finishing blow, energy weapons blazing as it closed in for the kill.

And then, it happened.

The Wyvern’s HUD flickered. Warning messages flooded Jackie’s console, and her controls lagged. "No, no, no!" she muttered, her voice tinged with disbelief. The Wyvern froze mid-motion, caught in an awkward hover as its systems faltered.

"Something’s wrong!" Howard shouted, his voice rising with alarm. "The Wyvern’s stalled! This could be catastrophic!"

Jim’s tone was grim. "This looks like a systems failure, Howard. Jackie’s in real trouble."

Eric Kane seized the moment. The Goliath’s massive arm swung upward, delivering a thunderous blow to the Wyvern’s torso. The smaller mech crumpled under the impact, crashing to the ground in a spray of sparks and simulated debris. The arena fell silent for a moment before the simulation declared the Goliath the victor.

"It’s over!" Howard announced, the crowd erupting in cheers. "Eric Kane and the Goliath take the championship in an incredible comeback!"

But inside the Wyvern’s cockpit, Jackie sat frozen, her hands trembling as she scrolled through the error logs. There was no sign of mechanical failure—no overheating, no overload. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

***

Jackie stepped out of the Wyvern’s cockpit, her head low, shoulders heavy with frustration. The roar of the crowd celebrating Eric Kane’s victory echoed faintly in the background, muted by her own thoughts. She spotted Kovacs standing at the edge of the hangar, his arms crossed as he observed the post-battle procedures. Her stomach twisted with guilt as she approached him.

“I’m sorry,” Jackie said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what happened. The Wyvern just... froze. No warning, no faults. It wasn’t the mech—at least, not anything I could find.”

Kovacs regarded her with a calm expression, his dark eyes betraying a flicker of curiosity. “No system faults at all?”

She shook her head. “Diagnostics came back clean. Everything was running perfectly until... it wasn’t.”

Kovacs nodded thoughtfully. “It doesn’t make sense. The Wyvern’s systems are robust—glitches like that shouldn’t happen.” He glanced over to a group of technicians bustling around the maintenance bays. “I’ll ask them to pull the logs. Maybe there’s something the diagnostics didn’t catch.”

Jackie gave him a faint smile. “Thanks, Kovacs. I know how much work you put into the Wyvern. I hate that this happened.”

“It’s not about blame,” he replied. “If there’s an issue, we need to find it—so we can fix it.”

Kovacs strode over to one of the technicians, a younger man in a grease-streaked uniform hunched over a tablet. “Excuse me,” Kovacs began, “is it possible to get the Wyvern’s battle logs? I want to take a closer look at what might have caused the error.”

The technician looked up, slightly startled. “Uh, I’d have to ask my boss about that. I don’t have clearance to release them.”

Before Kovacs could respond, a stern voice cut through the conversation. “Is there an issue here?” An official, wearing a crisp blazer adorned with the championship emblem, approached alongside one judge.

The technician straightened up immediately, but Kovacs remained composed. “No issue,” he said. “I was just asking to review the Wyvern’s logs. There was an unexpected error during the match, and I want to figure out what caused it. If it’s something in the design, I need to address it for future builds.”

The official and judge exchanged a glance. “You’re the Wyvern’s designer, right?” the judge asked. “That makes sense. Preventative measures and all.”

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The official nodded in agreement. “We’ll authorize it. Let’s see if we can get to the bottom of this.”

Within minutes, they retrieved and displayed the logs on a large screen in the analysis bay. Kovacs stood alongside the technicians, Jackie hovering nearby, watching intently as lines of code and data scrolled past.

“There!” one of the technicians exclaimed, pausing the feed. “That’s... odd. Look at this.”

The others leaned in, studying the highlighted section of code. Kovacs frowned, his analytical mind piecing the puzzle together. “That’s not part of the Wyvern’s system architecture. It’s a foreign script—something embedded into the VR system itself.”

“A Trojan,” another technician murmured. “It’s designed to interrupt input signals at critical moments. Sabotage.”

Jackie’s face went pale. “You’re saying someone did this on purpose?”

Kovacs nodded grimly. “And they timed it perfectly. This wasn’t an accident.”

The official’s jaw tightened, and the judge crossed his arms. “This is a serious matter. We’ll need to escalate this immediately.”

As the implications settled over them, Jackie clenched her fists, her earlier guilt transforming into determination. “Whoever did this... they’re going to pay.”

With the foreign script displayed on the analysis screen, the technicians, officials, and Kovacs stood in tense silence. Jackie leaned closer, her brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of the code. The faint hum of equipment filled the air, a stark contrast to the earlier roar of the crowd.

“This line here,” the lead technician said, pointing at a cluster of code, “it’s designed to override the Wyvern’s input signals. It effectively froze the controls for a few critical seconds.”

Jackie’s voice was tight. “That’s what happened. Everything was fine, and then—boom—nothing. Who could have done this?”

Kovacs tapped his chin, his sharp eyes scanning the data. “It’s embedded in the VR system, not the Wyvern itself. That means whoever did this had access to the central competition server. This wasn’t just some random hack—it was deliberate, and they had insider knowledge.”

The official crossed his arms, his face a mask of anger. “This is an egregious breach of integrity. If this gets out, it could jeopardize the entire competition’s reputation.”

Kovacs didn’t miss a beat. “With all due respect, covering it up isn’t the solution. We need to find out who’s responsible—and why.”

The judge nodded. “Agreed. We’ll start by checking server access logs. If someone tampered with the system, there’ll be a trail.”

The lead technician pulled up another screen. “I’ll need a moment. The logs are extensive, but we can filter for unusual activity tied to the match’s time frame.”

As the technician worked, Jackie turned to Kovacs. “Who would even do this? I don’t think Eric Kane had anything to do with it. He’s a tough competitor, but he’s not a cheater.”

Kovacs nodded. “I agree. Sabotage like this doesn’t benefit the pilots directly—it benefits someone who stands to gain from influencing the outcome. Sponsors, gamblers, maybe even a rival designer.”

The official frowned. “We run background checks on everyone involved in the competition, from sponsors to staff. If someone slipped through the cracks, it’ll be a serious oversight.”

“Got something,” the technician interrupted, turning to face the group. “There’s an unauthorized login here—two hours before the match. It came from a terminal in the staging area.”

Jackie’s eyes narrowed. “That’s restricted access. Only staff and officials are allowed in there.”

The technician nodded. “Exactly. Whoever it was, they either had clearance or they forged it.”

The official stepped forward, his voice sharp. “Can you trace the login to a specific user?”

The technician hesitated. “Yes, but... this part’s strange. The credentials used belong to someone who wasn’t even working today. A systems administrator named Gerald Wright. His login ID was active, but I checked earlier—he’s not on site.”

“That means someone stole his credentials,” Kovacs said, his voice like steel. “Or worse, he gave them up willingly.”

The judge turned to the official. “We need to bring Wright in for questioning immediately. He’s either a victim or a co-conspirator.”

The official nodded and pulled out his communicator. “I’ll get security on it.”

Jackie crossed her arms, frustration bubbling to the surface. “This is insane. Someone sabotaged the match, and the Wyvern was the target. Why? Why not the Goliath or another mech?”

Kovacs’s expression darkened. “Maybe it’s because the Wyvern represents something new. It’s not just another mech—it’s a statement. Faster, more adaptable, and more accessible than the old warhorses like the Goliath. If someone wanted to undermine me or my designs, this was the way to do it.”

Jackie clenched her fists. “So this wasn’t just about me losing. It was about making you look bad.”

Before Kovacs could respond, the technician spoke again. “The plot thickens. The terminal used for the login was one of the auxiliary stations near Bay Four. That area’s covered by security cameras.”

“Pull the footage,” the official ordered. “If we can get a visual on the culprit, we’ll know who we’re dealing with.”

It took a few tense minutes, but the technician brought up the camera feed from the staging area. The grainy footage showed a figure in a maintenance jumpsuit entering the auxiliary station. They kept their head down, but their movements were deliberate.

“That’s not Wright,” Jackie said immediately. “Too tall, and the walk’s all wrong.”

Kovacs pointed to the timestamp. “They’re in there for twenty minutes—long enough to plant the script and cover their tracks.”

The judge leaned closer, squinting at the screen. “Can you enhance that? Maybe get a look at their face?”

“I’ll try,” the technician said, running the footage through a series of filters. Slowly, the image sharpened, revealing the intruder’s face partially obscured by a cap. A collective gasp rippled through the group as the enhanced image came into focus.

The official’s face turned grim. “That’s Marcus Cain. He’s one of the independent contractors who set up the VR system. He passed background checks, but... damn it. We missed something.”

The judge’s voice was cold. “We need to find Cain. Now.”

Jackie’s eyes burned with determination. “And when we do, he’s going to tell us who hired him. Because someone put him up to this.”

Kovacs placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “We’ll get to the bottom of it, Jackie. Whoever did this won’t get away with it.”

The technicians, officials, and Kovacs stood in tense silence as the foreign script was displayed on the analysis screen. Jackie leaned closer, her brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of the code. The faint hum of equipment filled the air, a stark contrast to the earlier roar of the crowd.