The Factory, Solaris City
Solaris VII
Lyran Commonwealth
24 April, 3049


     "Tonight we have a treat for you, Mech fans. This is Duncan Fisher, here to bring you the call from downtown Solaris City, as the spring season opens on the gaming circuit. You know all the players from last year, but there's an incoming crop of young hotshots looking to make a name for thmeselves, and they'll be battling it out with one another tonight."

     "The Factory has been chosen for this year's open qualifier, and boy, is this one shaping up to be a good one. There are several newcomers looking for stables, and the relative peace around the Inner Sphere has seen an influx of combat veterans looking to make a name, not to mention some money, for themselves."

     Though she tried to tune it out, the array of monitors pumping in the broadcast feed made it nearly impossible for Faith to ignore the commentary introduction for the upcoming match. This was a totally new animal for her. She had seen some combat with the CCAF, but here on Solaris, this was where a person could make a name for themselves. Or die trying.

     She had found it relatively easy to get her name on the list for the open qualifier. The Game World always needed a fresh influx of new talent, or new bodies for the meatgrinder. She had a mech and a feisty personality, that was practically red meat to promoters here on Solaris. As far as they were concerned, if she made it, great. If not, no big loss, there were probably a hundred more waiting behind her for a shot.

     But tonight was her shot, and no one else's. She had looked over the fight card for tonight, and she knew she could take any of the pilots out there. She had watched film on them all, and they were scrubs. They were meat for the meat grinder. But not her. She was going to come out on top. She had to, it was her way.

     She thought back to her childhood, all those lacrosse matches, the crowd, the thrill of victory. Of course, the consequences of defeat were order of magnitude more harsh here, but the adrenaline rush was the same. Win at all costs. There was no other option.

     Speaking of adrenaline, she felt the pre-rush running through her veins, mixed with the chill of the room. Wearing only her mesh shorts and tank top, with knee length boots and her cooling vest still open and inactive, the almost antiseptic chill of the locker room reached almost into a person's soul.

     She looked down at the small line of white powder on the steel table. The Game World was no-holds-barred. There was no such thing as drug testing or doping scandals here on Solaris. If it got you though the match, power to you. This particular mix she had gotten from a Warrior House veteran on a campaign some years ago. A mixture of psycho-stimulants and opiates, it had gotten her though many a battlefield, giving her an edge and a focus that could mean the difference between life and death. Of course, all the medical evidence said it would take years off her life, turn her into a junkie, or make her heart explode one day, but the odds were that a Gauss rifle round was going to do that long before this cocktail would.

     With one quick motion, she inhaled the powder and closed her eyes, holding her breath for a few seconds as she felt the hit coursing through her body.

     "And a recent addition to the newcomer stable House of Lords, Faith McCarron is a feisty little blonde from the Capellan Confederation. With all the power of an armored cavalry regiment in a petite package, and with a mouth that could make a Canopian blush, only time will tell if this little Valkyrie will make a name for herself, or flame out like so many here on the game world. And that's your lineup for tonight, Mech fans. The mechs are warming up in the bays, and it's almost Factory Time! We'll be back in a moment, after a word from this season's sponsor, Timbiqui Spirits!"

     She could feel the energy building inside her. She blinked a few times for focus, and then pushed her way through the door of the locker room to the hallway that would lead to the mech bay. There was a small crowd of reporters and cameras that immediately snapped their focus to her, and follwed her every step as her boots clicked on the ferrocrete floor. She tuned them all out, a kind of tunnel vision leading her straight ahead down the corridor and into the cavernous mech bay.

     As she entered, she saw the familiar hulking form of her K2 Catapult, "Gunnar". He was still emblazoned with the colors of the 4th Tau Ceti Rangers, armor pristine and unmarred, the stylized numeral "4" emblazoned for all to see. But now he also carried the almost mocking logo of the House of Lords stables alongside it, letting any and all opponents know that tangling with this machine and the Lady within was a loss before they even took the field. And today she would prove it.

     She climbed the ladder to the cockpit and secured herself in the command couch, closing and plugging in her cooling vest, donning her neurohelmet, and flipping the switches that brought her Catapult from it's slumber. As the fusion reactor hummed to life, the metallic chill of the cockpit was replaced by an almost gentle warmth engulfing her. Now she was locked safe inside her machine. The time to do damage was almost here.

     After receiving the proper clearances from the stadium techs, she slowly walked the machine down the cavernous corridor to the appointed doorway where she would make her entrance. After what seemed like an eternity, the massive doors slid open, revealing the arena. Walking slowly out into the combat zone, she felt all the familiar sensations of approaching combat, but this time was different. There was one massive addition to the experience. Even strapped into her mech, protected by sixty-five tons of armor and weapons, she could hear, and feel the roar of the crowd. It was one more level added to the high of combat. The match was on.