Hounds of Orion

“Does it look like I’m fucking okay?!” Cameron yelled into the headset, his voice cracking from the strain, “I need some help before these guys turn me into a damn pincushion!”

He dashed down the field trying to create space where he could, with Kurz and Merril in hot pursuit. The other two squires had broken apart and flanked him on either side, trying to overwhelm him with a series of rapid slashes. He worked the twin sticks controlling the Squire’s arms with an adrenaline fueled efficiency, parrying and dodging to the best of his abilities, avoiding a majority of his opponents attacks.

“Alright Kid, listen to me,” Logan finally replied, his voice taking on a cold edge, “We’re not going to screw around here. You’re not fighting to win anymore. You’re fighting to kill. This is about survival and by the stars, I’m going to make sure you survive.”

“Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it!” Cameron yelled back, dashing backward to avoid a powerful chop on his left side from Merril’s squire. He watched as the Captain’s heavy blade hit the ground hard, cracking the earth.

“You need to isolate and attack, kid. If you can get it down to a one on one, you’ll be fine. The squire is more nimble and smaller than you think. Let them get cocky and overextend, then counter and finish them. Got it?”

“Understood…” Cameron said, his voice trailing off, as he watched Merril struggle for a fraction of a second to extract his blade from the ground. An idea formed in the back of his mind, he just needed an opening to execute, and since they weren’t going to give him one so easily, he’d have to make his own.

“Goddammit…” He said to himself, before taking a deep breath, staring down his opponents. With a deep exhale and a fortification of resolve, he gripped the throttle, slamming forward as he charged the other Squires.

Cameron barreled forward, sword glinting in the sunlight as he swung it in a wide arc. Merril and Kurz broke apart, opening a hole for Cameron to dash through, before they swung around to engage him. Cameron was already a head of the curve, spinning on a dime and leveling his shield into Kurz’s head unit, sending him sprawling as the mech ran directly into it, rebounding off the thick metal slab. He spun back around, engaging Merril in one-on-one combat while he had the chance. He rushed the Captain down, swinging and stabbing in rapid succession before dashing horizontally, smothering Merril with an oppressive flurry of strikes.

Cameron kept up the pressure, even as he heard Kurz beginning to get to his feet. He could see Merril’s face through the windshield, red and glistening with sweat, teeth bared in defiance and anger as he retaliated, meeting Cameron’s sword swings with swings of his own. Cameron’s plan was working, he just needed the right moment. He reduced the tempo of his strikes, letting control of melee shift to Merril who took full advantage of the reprieve, rallying and laying into Cameron’s sword and shield.

“Nearly there.” He said, grinding his teeth as he blocked another series of strikes.

And then he saw his chance. He saw Merril raise his sword high, before hammering down, attempting to break Cameron’s guard with one massive swing. It would be a glorious way to end the assessment as well as the prince’s life.

Unfortunately, that blow hit nothing but air.

Cameron waited till the absolute last second, before he engaged his Squire’s boosters to maximum output, dashing to the side as Merril buried his sword deep in the dirt. This was the moment Cameron had been waiting for, and he was going to take full advantage.

Before the Captain could react, and with a scream of rage, Cameron stabbed forward, directly into Merril’s cockpit. He saw the windshield splattered with the blood of a frightened man, feeling the resistance of the metal give way, replaced by the squishy soft tissue and organs of the human body. With a mighty pull, Cameron yanked the sword out, with Merril’s squire falling forward face down into the dirt.

Cameron couldn’t celebrate yet, however. He could hear the boosters firing behind him, turning to see Kurz dashing forward, murder in his eyes, and mouth opened wide in a silent scream, throwing caution to the wind as the Sergeant attempted to avenge his companion.

Cameron thought quickly, hitting a switch to have his Squire drop its shield before reaching out and gripping the late Captain’s sword. Cameron gave it a pull, relieved to see it have some give to it, likely the result of Merril trying to pull it out before Cameron had killed him. With another firm yank, he pulled the giant slab of steel from the ground, dual wielding two blades now, before he turned to face Kurz one last time.

“Come on!” Cameron yelled into the ether as he dashed forward, meeting Kurz in the middle and engaging him with a newfound vigor. With every strike Kurz attempted, Cameron made four, easily overwhelming the Sergeant. The loud clangs of clashing metal gave way to hollow shrieks as the blades bit into Kurz’s mech. His arms were the first to go, both of them being cut off at the shoulder joints. Then Cameron attacked the legs and waist, slicing into the hollow metal shell and cutting off the Sergeant’s options to escape, literally. In a flash, Cameron was standing over a Squire half its original size, looking down at Kurz through the windshield.

He could see the terror in the man’s face, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he reached to turn on his outer speaker.

“I yield Prince Pellyn!” Kurz said, desperation and pain prominent in his voice. “Do you hear me? I ye-”

He was cut off. Cameron didn’t want to hear anything the man had to say, settling instead for burying both swords through the top of Kurz’s mech, driving through the head unit and into the cockpit, more so crushing the man, turning him into a fleshy, red paste, than cutting him.

And then everything went quiet. It was an eerie silence, deafening almost. The only thing Cameron could hear was his own rapid heartbeats and shallow breathing. Compared to the sounds of battle and death before, this was almost too much for Cameron to handle right now, feeling slightly claustrophobic now in the confined space of the cockpit. Slowly, he regained his composure, catching his breath and finding his center, searching for a calm in the chaos that had just transpired.

He finally turned, looking off to the sidelines to see four men standing there, each with varying looks on their faces. His father’s mouth was hanging wide open, unblinking and in shock. Darwin shared a majority of the King’s shock, but his was more out of fear than astonishment. Logan, on the other hand stood proud and tall, hands in his pockets, his body shaking softly, likely from laughter judging by the smirk that was on his face. And then Cameron turned to look at Lendrick, seeing nothing but pure hatred in his eyes. He was practically foaming at the mouth, fists clenched tight and face a scarlet red.

Cameron couldn’t help himself, feeling a smile similar to Logan’s form on his face as he flicked the switch to broadcast his voice to the outside world, speaking directly to the dignitary as he started to lose consciousness.

“So what do you think Lendrick? Did I pass?”