PLAY BALL!

A Straggler

High Priestess Centehua leads the group up the stairs and into the chamber of the Shrines of the Warrior Skins.  Huemac follows behind the group, acting as a rear guard (or more likely a shepherd to make sure that none of the yaoquizque goes astray).

Yaotlquauhtli straightens and, leaving his war club on his back as he has not been specifically forbidden to bring it, prepares to follow the priestess up the stairs.  Reaching down as though to straighten his belt he draws his thumb across the edge of the obsidian dagger tucked there, just enough to draw blood, and catches Centehua Matlalihuitl's eye.  He then extends the digit toward her.  Grinning conspiratorially he silently mouths the word, "Done" (referring to the proposed bet).

Centehua Matlalihuitl falls into the line.  While her head is slightly bent, the beak of headdress covering her eyes, a smile quickly forms and then vanishes at the side of her mouth.  Once again, she adopts her face of stern concentration as she follows the priestess and the rest of her companions up the steps.

As she takes her place in the group's procession, Xoco can't resist slipping sidelong glances at that living legend, Huemac.  Awe and puzzlement war for control of her expression, with a sort of wariness thrown in for good measure.  She slips ahead as if to escape his notice, taking advantage of Yaotlquauhtli and Centehua Matlalihuitl's distraction while they exchange silent blood oaths.  The manoeuvre brings her closer to Nochehuatl and Tecolotl, whom she examines with interest.  She has to crane her neck a bit to do so, for they both tower above her.  In fact, all of the yaoquizque are a good head taller than Xoco.  The effect is enhanced by some of the spectacular headdresses, like Centehua Matlalihuitl's.

Tecolotl falls into line silently, his arms folded, hands tucked inside the sleeves of his black robe.  He nods once to Centehua, and, bowing slightly from the waist, motions for her to go ahead of him.  He steps back into line behind her and follows up the stairs.  "Odd omens all," he thinks.  "Are we coming at last to an age of Chaos?"  He thinks of the warriors assembled, their blustering pride, their shows of superiority.  His face, though, and so his thoughts, his soul, are his own, unrevealed behind the golden mask, and if he is smiling for his new allies now, no one can tell.

As the group passes the Shrines of the Warrior Skins, a bare-chested figure moves towards them.  He is slight and wiry. His brow is slightly wrinkled under his long black hair which is held back with a purple headband. He carries a worn war club and a dented purple shield with an abstract representation of a person in red. He bows to all, "I crave pardon for my delay. I believe I am to join this group. My name is Chipotle."

The priestess Centehua stops short and scowls darkly at the new arrival.  Chipotle can feel her disapproval pulling the strength from his limbs and the warmth from his blood, and even those not the focus of her stare feel as though the great chamber of the Warrior Skins has somehow darkened slightly.

"Yaoquizque, is this the manner in which you show devotion to Yoali Ehecatl?" she demands.  "Such tardiness is highly disrespectful.  Moreover, if this habit carries over into battle, it can get your fellow warriors killed!  I presume you have an explanation?"

Huemac, meanwhile, watches from the back with a slight smile on his face, though whether this is amusement at the lateness of Chipotle or the haranguing he is getting from Centehua none can tell.

A moment passes while all wait with trepidation for the newcomer to explain his tardiness to Centehua.  The priestess, for her part, continues to glare - the intensity of her stare increasing with the passing seconds to the point that most of the young yaoquizque are sure that it is capable of withering plants and killing small animals.  Chipotle himself, at the center of that glare, must struggle to avoid humiliating himself by shivering or shuffling his feet like an errant schoolchild.

Fortunately for all concerned, before Centehua's glare can reach man-killing proportions, the tableau is broken by Huemac's laughter.  The Historian of the Gods gives a full-throated laugh, seeming completely unaffected by Centehua's stern look, even when she casts an annoyed look his way.

"Had I not seen it with my own eyes, I never would have believed it!" Huemac exclaims in mock surprise.  "A tongue-tied priest of Yacatecutli!  I had thought that particular tendency had been bred out of them long since!"  He gazes at Chipotle with mock sternness, his face a parody of Centehua's scowl.  He also waggles a finger at the young warrior.  "Yaoquizque, you had best hope that you have cured yourself of this problem should you ever be called upon to take your place in the Circle of Motion¹, or you will have the dubious honor of being the first warrior in the history of our empire to lose an entire city-state in fold-space!"  Huemac chuckles again.

Centehua gives him a fearsome glare, but says nothing.  After a few seconds she turns on her heel and leads the young warriors past the last of the shrines of the Warrior Skins to a huge service elevator big enough to lift the Warrior Skins from their underground storage to the surface.  Instead of ascending, however, the elevator drops to a lower level of the House of Darts - the area where the powersuits are kept.
 

The Court

Here again the service bays are largely empty, and many have been clearly looted during the earlier battle.  Centehua looks neither left nor right, but seems to attempt to ignore the chaos and damage about her through sheer force of will.  After a walk of several minutes (the powersuit bay is large enough to handle around 4,000 powersuits), she comes to a door marked with the symbols for "Warrior Instruction".  The door slides open at her touch and everyone files inside, Huemac making certain that  the door is sealed behind him.

Inside are a number of teaching suits, each in its own shrine, attached by many wires and cables to one of the mechanisms of the Huitznahua.  All of the yaoquizque are familiar with the teaching suits, for it is in suits like these that they first learned to operate a powersuit.  Once inside the suit, the wearer is transferred to another location by the power of the Huitznahua - perhaps to a distant star, perhaps deep below the sea, perhaps to heaven itself.  While within the suit the wearers body is preserved from harm, but the wearer experiences everything precisely as though his or her body was not so protected.  The full pain of injuries is experienced, as well as the ultimate moment of death, should the wearer die.  There is no difference between living in the teaching suit and living outside of it, save that when the lesson is done the wearer returns to the land of the living and steps out of the suit as though nothing had occurred.  The mind, however, remembers the lessons taught in the teaching suit better than any other - for it learns the lesson as though living it, rather than hearing it spoken of.

Centehua moves over to another of the mechanisms of the Huitznahua and manipulates some of the jewels upon its surface, and an image appears above the mechanism.  The image is that of a large public plaza, hexagonal in shape and approximately 2100 meters from one end to the other.  The plaza is divided into six wedges by low walls, and each wedge features a broad avenue lined with trees and shrubs.  In the center of the plaza a large hexagonal pyramid rises into the air, surrounded by stone spires and a moat.  Upon the top of the pyramid sits no other than the god Amapan, patron of the ball court!  He holds in his hand a tlatchtli ball, but one unlike any that the yaoquizque have seen before.  Rather than being made of hard rubber, it seems to be made of yellow fire, like a small sun.

The view shifts, swooping down on the top of the pyramid then out across the plaza.  The yaoquizque can see that beyond the plaza itself there is...  nothing!  Black sky sprinkled with stars is all they can see beyond the court.

Centehua speaks.  "Amapan has agreed to test you in a game of Tlatchtli, but one unlike those you have played before.  There will be no teams - you will all compete one against another, each wearing his or her chosen powersuit design.  Each of you will start at one corner of the plaza and will have to proceed to the top of the pyramid where you may take the ball from Amapan.  The ball hovers at waist height, so it may be kicked, bumped with the hips, or even struck with the shoulder if you squat down.  The first warrior who scores a goal with the ball will be leader of your group."

As the yaoquizque first file into the shrine of the teaching suits, Xoco's eyes start sparkling like obsidian in a sun beam.  She gazes avidly at the objects of power around her, barely refraining from touching anything.  But when the High Priestess reveals the image of the strange ball court, Xoco gasps.  All proper deference momentarily forgotten, she elbows her way through the group of taller yaoquizque to get a good view.  She has never seen a court like this one!²

"Where are the hoops, honoured priestess?" she asks.

Meanwhile, Centehua Matlalihuitl's eyes gleam with the idea of playing with the powersuits.  This will certainly make the game much more interesting.  She looks at Yaotlquauhtli's war club and smiles.  Obviously the war clubs are not needed, at least, not yet...

Nochehuatl frowns as he looks out at the court.  The missing hoops don't bother him much; he and his friends had sometimes had to play on informal courts.  Playing in powersuits -- that would add some interesting spice to the game, though it would mean his strength wouldn't mean much.

But to play as an individual?  That leaves him completely at a loss.  It is an idea that has never even occurred to him before.  It has been hard enough to get used to the idea that his old teammates won't be playing with him any more, but he'd assumed he would find new teammates here, not individuals all competing with each other.  He sighs, quietly to avoid drawing High Priestess Centehua's attention, and waits to see what she would say next.

Centehua manipulates the jewels again and the image rotates.  "There is a single hoop at one end of the court just behind ...  ah, it is just behind the starting position of our tongue-tied young Way Bringer.  Let us hope that his skills in battle are more highly honed than his skills in elocution."

Xoco examines the area the High Priestess just pointed out, her brow slightly furroughed.  What a strange ball court!  After a moment, she forgets both the tlatchtli field and the viewing device.  She fades back into the middle of the group, letting the taller yaoquizque hide her a bit.  After a minimal pause, she starts edging towards the training suits to take a better look, trying to avoid the attention of the powers-that-be.

While obviously discomfited by the comments of Centehua, the Way Bringer bows respectfully to her.  "I can only hope to give honor to Yoali Ehecatl, High Priestess."  Chipotle cannot completely hide the fear-tinged excitement he feels as he looks out over his next battlefield.  He must not fail to show his worth and gain the High Priestess's respect.

Yaotlquauhtli stands near the representation of the court, completely ignoring the talking warriors around him.  He studies the court intently, marking the location of each tree and pathway and sorting what matters: the trees, the roads, the pyramid, the walls, the ball - from what doesn't: the star field, the magnificence of the view, the god himself.  If Amapan is indeed the patron of the ball court then he will not interfere.  If he is indeed a god then stray shots will not bother him.  Then, once he feels he has the lay of the land, the Jaguar quietly studies the other warriors and gauges them for their competence and threat level - especially Chipotle, the relative unknown and the one closest to the goal..  Who to avoid, who can be more or less disregarded... and who deserves special attention.  He catches Centehua Matlalihuitl's eye, and smiles.  Yes, this could be fun.

"If there are no further questions then let us begin," says Centehua after a moment, motioning towards the teaching suits.

"By all means," says Huemac dryly.  Centehua shoots him a look of mild annoyance.

Each Spirit Warrior climbs into his or her Teaching Suit.  When the helmet is sealed there is a moment of disorientation, and then each warrior stands in his/her assigned space on the Tlatchtli field.  Far across the field the figures of the other Spirit Warriors wink into existence in their assigned positions.  Each is wearing their individual powersuit.

While she slithers into the teaching suit, Xoco's gleeful smarminess is temporarily replaced by a look of serious, intense concentration.  She checks all the suit's status lights and fastenings as if she was about to step into outer space with it.  Her movements are unhurried and methodical, yet she is done in good time.  As she flicks to existence on the hexagonal tlatchtli field, she takes a long look around to orient herself.  She flexes every joint of the suit in order, wiggling her fingers inside the suit, and settling into its fold, checking the fidelity of the teaching suit's reaction to her powersuit's workings.

As Chipotle climbs into the suit he frowns with annoyance at the slight differences in construction and of course the smell of stale sweat from the hundreds of warriors who have used this suit before. Still, once the game begins all of this will fade into the background. Chipotle starts turning on and off systems and running through his check list to verify the set-up of the suit.

Yaotlquauhtli carefully climbs into the cockpit, moving his war club to the side so he can sit back and strap in.  There's no way he's going to be caught in an alien landscape without it, and it's worth the minor trouble it is to pack it.  As he appears on the playing field he goes through his checks:  Weapons, okay; Servos, okay; Gravitic Propulsion, okay; Heart of Jade, pumping...  He looks around, marking the location of any obstacles or enemies, then smiles and crouches to his ready position.  Glancing up at the god atop the pyramid he thinks, "Hope you really are Amapan.  If so, you'll know enough to get out of the way..."

Centehua Matlalihuitl climbs into the suit as if she was already familiar with it.  Once inside, the suit suddenly comes to life, jumping up and doing a quick somersault in the air, and landing gently on the ground.  The suit seemed to already move as gracefully and as quickly as Centehua did at dinner.  Centehua checks the sensors and studies the battlefield, the dim glow of the screen lighting her face in an otherwise dark cockpit.  Yes, this suit will do.  This suit will do nicely. The gods should be praised...  She moves to her mark, ready to begin.

By the time Nochehuatl climbs into his suit, the others are already prepared, and even engaging in a bit of running about.  Nochehuatl keeps an eye on them, but doesn't deviate from the careful routine of bringing each system up and checking to make sure the signs are right.  Finally, everything ready to go, he almost tries to call his old teammate Coatl, before suddenly remembering where he is.  Enough of that; he has to put the past behind him and get on with the present.

In the center of the field, atop the great pyramid, Amapan looks down upon the assembled warriors.  In his hand he holds a ball.  It seems to each warrior that he looks at them individually, yet as a group, despite their being scattered around the field.

"Begin," Amapan says.
 

Tlatchtli

As soon as she is done with her suit check, Xoco moves like a blur.  Ignoring the pyramid in the center of the tlatchtli field, framed by the wide row of luxuriant bushes, she moves to her right.  Using the extra boost given by her jump jets, she vaults the vegetation and lands on the other side.  At a light run -- for a powersuit, or a blinding pace for the unaided eye of an unsuited human, she keeps going into the open expanse between the right-hand hedge and wall of her quadrant of the odd-shaped tlatchtli field.

Near the goal an ominous dark shape unfurls batlike wings from a special mounting on Chipotle's suit.  Launching itself into the air, the slave streaks across the field in the direction of Nochehuatl, reaching the edge of the low wall separating the Storm Warrior's area from the Way Bringer's.  Chipotle himself drops below line of sight.

Without leaving his crouching stance, Yaotlquauhtli thumbs the switch to turn on the gravitics in his legs.  Shouting an ancient Jaguar war cry, his suit launches itself, knees bent, headlong down the field and toward the pyramid at the center.  Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Xoco edging off across the field and briefly wonders what she's up to... then dismisses the thought with an evil smile.  If she intends to get in his way, he will just go through her.

Inside Nochehuatl's helmet, the chirp that announces an incoming transmission sounds.  A small light in the powersuit's heads-up display signals that this is a tight-beam call.

"Storm Warrior, I propose an alliance," says Xoco's voice in Nochehuatl's ear, lightly muffled by static.  "Neither of us is likely to win on our own -- I am too lightly armed and you are too slow; but together we can shape the game.  I think the Way Bringer's slave means no good to either of us, but the master is vulnerable.  And I hope that the Hummingbird Warrior will see to the Jaguar.  What do you say to an agreement?  Neither of us attacks the other unless we are the only ones left standing."

Nochehuatl sits quietly for a moment.  He then hits the switches needed to return a tight-beamed message.  "Agreed," is all he says.  He then sits back and smiles.  Even in this every-warrior-for themselves situation, one can still make a team.

Slow to get started, Nochehuatl unconsciously takes in what the others are doing, focussing his conscious efforts solely on himself.  He begins to lumber forward, picking up speed until he's running at maximum speed.  Nothing of subtlety here, he moves in a straight line for the center.

Xoco smiles to herself, glancing at the battle situation as it is displayed by her instruments.  "Hmmm..." she hums unconsciously.  "Do you want leadership for yourself, or would you prefer to favour one of the others?" she asks.

Startled, Nochehuatl stares at the speaker for several seconds before answering, though he doesn't break stride.  "Someone must lead.  As long as they lead well, it doesn't matter who it is.  If I win, I will lead.  If I lose, I will follow.  It won't do for our team to be in as much chaos as the world seems to be in these days."  He frowns absently.  The middle of a game isn't a time for talking, or at least it wasn't at home.

As she carefully gauges her opponents' skill before beginning her own attack, Centehua hears the chirrup that signals an incoming transmission.  A little light in the powersuit's HUD announces this to be a tight-beam transmission.

"The Jaguar is not even bothering with evasive manoeuvres!"  Centehua recognizes Xoco's voice.  "You have the perfect shot..." The Chichimec ends the sentence with a chuckle.  "Hummingbird Warrior, you have little to fear from me, since I am too lightly armed to win this contest.  But together, we can get rid of the opposition -- especially the Death Messenger and the Jaguar, who are too powerful for me alone.  How about a truce?  I don't attack you and you don't attack me unless we are the last two standing."

Centehua smiles.  Xoco's line chirrups. "Done, little sister!  It will be just like playing against the little boys back home who didn't respect the girls.  Besides," Centehua brings her Sun Spear up to have a look at it and the Thunderbolt weapon attached to her arm, "I am eager to try this equipment out! Let's see how much the Jaguar cries when his suit gets dirty!"  Centehua turns off the com.  Besides, she thinks to herself, I was chosen based on a game of chance, what do I have to lose!

"If I was you," continues Xoco, "I'd try to nab this indecently big war club of his before he has a chance to use it.  That Sun Spear of yours has a magnificent range, and he'll be left with short-ranged, rather inaccurate weapons.  And if you are as fast as your namesake, you can zip in and out with a second attack before he has even a chance to react!  Just remember not to retreat towards the Death Messenger, for I believe that one is aptly named...  For myself, I intend to deprive the Way Bringer of his annoying slave.  It will be a mercy to the poor soul who has been robbed of his final rest.  Then we will see about the master..."

Centehua, who had been sitting at her mark watching, suddenly bursts into action.  She begins to run down the court.  In the middle she stops and aims her Sun Spear at Yaotlquauhtli's club, and fires.  The club gets an ugly black char mark.  "Oh look, Jaguar!  Your club got all dirty!" she smirks, and continues running down the court.

An unholy howl fills the Hummingbird Warrior's headset.  "YayayayayaieeeEEE!"  The savage yowl ends in a high-pitched note.  "Good shooting, feathers!"  Centehua recognizes the accents of the Chichimec.  A wicked chuckle ends Xoco's comment.

"What was that you were saying about someone's club?"  Centehua asks with an obvious evil grin in her voice.  "Your turn to lay the slave to rest!"

Finally committing himself, the Death Messenger starts running as well.  Ignoring Amapan and the ball in the center of the court, Tecolotl Quiteteuhilpia runs at full speed towards the location of the hoop, where the Way Bringer has gone to ground, but refrains from firing.  Another short burst of speed brings him to the far side of the wall of vegetation masking Chipotle.  There, the Death Bringer abruptly goes to ground as well, hiding in turn.  The two warriors crouching on either side of the wooded alley make a strange sight, but one only Amapan, Huemac, and High Priestess Centehua can fully appreciate.

In her own quadrant, Xoco angles her path slightly and continues her course, now running due south and behind Nochehuatl.  The final spurt granted by her jump jets land her square in a thick patch of vegetation, but she does not seem to mind.

On the other side of the pyramid, Centehua flits about the game field, steering well clear of the now enraged Jaguar Warrior.

Near the stone hoop, the Way Bringer remains strangely quiet, despite the approaching menace that is Tecolotl.

Meanwhile... Yaotlquauhtli flinches slightly as sparks fly from his jade war club, and Centehua's voice echoes through the cockpit.  Reflexively he jerks the controls to the left, then dives slightly and jinks back to the right, tearing several branches from the bushes lining his path. So, he thinks, unaware of the snarl that crosses his face, that's the way it's to be played.  Very well then.  He will win this contest, and consider how best to repay Centehua's kindness afterward.  A pretty face and a quick wit do not excuse all insults...  As he zips between the columns at the base of the hill he rises to the next level, the god and the ball filling his sights.

Still running doggedly on, Nochehuatl charges towards the central pyramid.  Using his jump jets to assist the climb, he moves up the steps at a furious pace.  And as the Storm Warrior reaches the level of gigantic steps immediately below Amapan... the god tosses the ball to him!  Nochehuatl pauses briefly to bow to Amapan and receive the ball.

The god standing in the center of the plaza has just tossed the ball to Nochehuatl when the comm signal chirps again in Centehua's headset.  Yes, it's another tight-beam call.

"Hummingbird!" says Xoco's voice.  "What would you think of us backing the Storm Warrior?  Without our help, he will be Jaguar fodder in a minute.  You seemed to like him, and I think he might make a good compromise leader."

"Have you no faith in me winning this game?" Centehua says with a smile.  "Yes, we have to help him.  If the Jaguar gets the ball, he can hit it to the hoop easily with that oversized club of his..." Centehua goes quiet for a second. "And we can't have that!"  Centehua continues. "I am closest to the two right now.  From what I can tell, you have two weapons that are accurate and fairly powerful at mid-range.  I was thinking of one of us running around behind him and kill that club once and for all. The other can distract him with the Storm Warrior.  How is your defense? Do you want to ambush or face him head-on?...  Hmmmm, shall we tell the Storm Warrior to fire at him?"

Xoco chuckles drily.  "Unfortunately, I am too far out of range to touch him.  I think I've gone in too deeply to change my mind about freeing the slave's soul.  However, you could step in to finish that accursed club with a second shot at mid-range.  Once he's reduced to his ranged weapons, he'll be far less threatening."  The laughter turns quite evil.  "I don't think any of the others will realize we're working together until it's too late for them.  If you succeed in taking the Jaguar's weapon, and I the Way Bringer's slave, the three of us can fan out and keep the ball moving.  Much harder for the opponents to stop..."

The Slave whirrs in place as Chipotle prepares to address the Mecha moving to challenge his position as goal keeper.

Near the hoop, Tecolotl twitches, crouching a bit lower, like a predator waiting for his intended victim to make a move.

As he looks in wonderment at the ball he just won, the Storm Warrior's comm link chirps again.

"Nochehuatl!"  Yes, it's Xoco's voice again, spilling her new information hurriedly.  "The Jaguar Warrior will barrel down on you and try that big club of his if he's not stopped.  I have talked the Hummingbird into helping -- she will finish the job she started and take the Jaguar's weapon out.  I will take out the Way Bringer's slave and all three of us can work our way down the court.  Both Centehua and I will support you, so you may pass the ball if your pursuers get too close; we will pass it back and not take advantage of this.  By the time the others realize we are working as a team, it will be too late for them to react."

Nochehuatl listens to the message and smiles.  Yes, tlatchtli was meant to be a team game, after all.  "Yes, I understand.  I'm a bit slower than the rest of you, so it may take a while, but we'll get to the goal soon enough."

Xoco, still running across the open expanses of the court towards the same hoop, swerves near Chipotle's slave and aims a bolt from her Flaying Stone at the drone's chest.  A superdense ball of plasma, condensed to neutronium state, is accelerated by the weapon's gaussian field and hits the slave squarely.  In a blinding flash of destruction, the slave's Heart-of-Jade explodes, flooding the surrounding area with ripping waves of roiling energy, but without reaching the Chichimec.  Xoco salutes the explosion by raising her weapon.  "May your spirit now walk free, fallen one!" she shouts.

Near the central pyramid, Centehua glares at the Jaguar through narrowed eyes, her lips curling to bare pointy teeth in a fierce snarl.  She points the Thunderbolt at her opponent.  "Huitzilopochtli!  Quetzalcoatl!  Yoali Ehecatl!" she shouts.  "Guide my hand and slay my enemy!" As the words ring, she feels the familiar crackle that accompanies the weapon's belch of energy.  In a searing flash, Yaotlquauhtli's jade war club is destroyed.

Apparently finally ready for a piece of the action, or enraged by the recent demise of his slave, Chipotle gets up at last and starts barreling towards Xoco, but her headstart keeps him just short of reaching shooting range.  Instead, he throws down a smoke/chaff pod which envelops him like a shroud, hiding his outline.

Yaotlquauhtli stops his power suit in midair, as his war club bursts into a shower of sparks for the second time.  He looks for just a moment at the broken stub of a weapon in his hand.  Then, forgetting all about the ball and the game his head turns toward Centehua's suit, his own suit turns in midair and with a scream of rage he propels himself around the edge of the hill toward her.  Raising both arms he lets loose with all the weapons left at his disposal...  But the Hummingbird Warrior twists and turns with grace, avoiding the murderous discharge of his Thunderbolt, closely followed by the tight beams of twin linked Wasp Stings.

Nochehuatl watches as Yaotlquauhtli vents his wrath harmlessly against Centehua.  He reopens the communications link, saying, "I'm too slow to close and attack, and my weapons are not very accurate.  I think we're best served if I start the ball towards the hoop.  If the Eagle and I converge in that direction, I'll be close enough to attack him then.  Or do you need help now, Centehua?  You seem to be doing well enough."

"I think you're right about leaving the Jaguar to Centehua," Xoco agrees, "but I would suggest you kick the ball away from the net, out of the others' range!  That way, we can finish off the Jaguar, then take on the Way Bringer, and keep the Death Messenger for last.  He'll be a tough nut to crack.  You could recover the ball while Centehua and I try to dispatch our targets..."

The Storm Warrior returns his attention to the ball.  Carefully, he looks around.  Finally, he draws one leg back and kicks at the ball.  Like a slowly arcing shooting star, the ball trails through the air and comes to rest atop one of the stone columns which surround the pyramid, this one flanking the alley leading to the hoop.

Centehua activates her gravitics to launch herself at the Jaguar hovering near the upper levels of the central pyramid.  She slashes at him with her Sun Spear, a weapon of fearsome accuracy and power at close quarters.  A first hit falls on his left arm, damaging the featherless shield.  The second vicious strike hits him to the head, damaging his armour and causing some internal damage as well.

On the far side of the field, Xoco moves in short range of Chipotle.  She aims her Flaying Stone at his half-guessed silhouette through the haze that envelopes him, but cannot managed to get a clear shot.  Swiftly, she drops a smoke/chaff pod of her own to hide her own form.  As soon as the haze from his first pod dissipates, Chipotle answers Xoco in kind by aiming his Tempest at her, but the swirling smoke leaves him no opening.  Frustrated of a shot, he drops yet another smoke/chaff pod to hide in.

Meanwhile, ignoring the impacts from Centehua's spear and feeling slightly more in his element, Yaotlquauhtli flings his net.  The carbon-fiber mesh flies through the air, missing her left arm by the narrowest of margins as the weights bounce off her arm and shoulder with a metallic "clunk".  The net returns to his hand with a whirring noise via the line attached.  Bringing his leg up in a midair thrust kick, he launches himself at her with a shout.  Centehua neatly maneuvers to one side and he finds himself behind her.  Yaotlquauhtli fires a maneuvering thruster and spins back around to face her again.

Nochehuatl looks forlornly at where the ball has landed on the column.  Then he starts to run, turning sharply and pounding down the pyramid.  When he reaches the lowest level of the pyramid, he leaps, jump jets kicking in to carry him across the moat to the pillar.  Arriving, he takes a few moments to be sure of his balance and carefully prepare for a kick, though he doesn't take the kick yet.

Xoco stubbornly keeps trying to shoot at Chipotle but in vain.  Another smoke/chaff pod bursts, and the ridiculous aiming match continues.  Chipotle refuses to follow suit this time, and lets the haze from his previous pod dissipate without renewing it.

Centehua continues her relentless attack on Yaotlquauhtli.  She attacks him like a bird after large prey -- each successful attack wearing her prey down.  She thrusts the spear into the Jaguar's side. He moves fast enough to block it, but the shield is no match for the Hummer's attack, and it crumples into worthless metal.  She strikes again to his now vulnerable torso, and the spear makes contact.  The Jaguar surely felt that one.  Centehua lunges with her spear for the final attack, but only stabs the air.  The Jaguar has been able to move out of the way... somehow...

He shakes his head to clear it, reeling.  His face lit red from below by the warning lights on his control panel, Yaotlquauhtli clenches his jaw tightly and moves to bring his right arm around in an elbow jab.  The grinding of metal accompany the slow movement of his limb, and he switches tactics as rapidly as his suit will allow.  The left arm moves more quickly and flings his net toward the darting hummingbird in an attempt to drape it over her head.  Again it does little more than graze its target as Centehua ducks and spins out of the way.

Quickly reeling the net back in, Yaotlquauhtli prepares to redouble his attack...

"The head, Hummingbird, hit the head!" calls Xoco on tight beam.  Her breath sounds a little short.  "His Thunderbolt will be recharged any minute now.  A hit to the head would at the very least cripple him so that he would be no threat."

"Nochehuatl!" she continues.  "The Death Messenger is twitching!  If you can manage to kick the ball this far, you can hide in my smoke screen.  Even if you can't send the ball that far, if Tecolotl snatches the ball he will be the one in defensive position, so it would be worth it for you to get to cover.  We can double-team him!"
 

And the Ball is Moving!

Nochehuatl lines leg and ball up, carefully, draws back, and kicks it.  A smooth contact and the ball lifts into the air and arcs down to the ground below, down the tree-lined path to the hoop.  He smiles, then hits his jump jets and flies down, following the ball.  He hits the ground running and brings himself to a stop just as he catches up with the ball.

As the swirling cloud encircling her settles again, Xoco finally gets a clear shot at the Way Bringer.  She levels her Flaying Stone towards Chipotle, and presses the trigger.  Her first shot glances by Chipotle with the narrowest of margins, but the second hits him squarely.  The purple and red breast plate of his powersuit is ripped open like a nutshell under a stone hammer.  The Way Bringer escapes grievous wounds and an explosion of the Heart-of-Jade, but his powersuit is left useless.  Xoco glances across the battle field at the other players, and tosses down another smoke/chaff pod.

Centehua keeps pounding at Yaotlquauhtli.  Two vicious slashes of her Sun Spear explode in a shower of sparks as they slice through his armor; with a gruesome sound, his left arm is severed and tossed like a stick of dead wood.

Yaotlquauhtli glances briefly at his left arm as it falls away to the ground below.  This is not working out as well as he'd hoped.  Time to switch tactics a bit.  Drifting back slightly he deliberately stares down at the severed arm as if in shock.  Hopefully she will advance for another attack.  Wait... wait... now!  Swinging his right arm without straightening up, the net expands yet again. Centehua backpedals quickly, surprise making her movements erratic.  The net sails by, missing the Hummingbird by a solid couple of feet.  Then, using the momentum of the swing to keep the mesh open, Yaotlquauhtli turns to his left and throws the net backhanded.  It flies true this time and neatly wraps around Centehua's powersuit.  The electrical charge goes off, but Centehua begins struggling against the net anyway.

Yaotlquauhtli grins triumphantly and floats closer, trying not to let on how heavily he's breathing.  "Well little Hummingbird, it seems your attempt to bell the cat may be doomed to failure after all.  A valiant effort, but as you can see I do not need both arms to swallow one small bird."  Raising his right arm, he draws a bead with his now recharged Thunderbolt, the weapon gleaming evilly in the sunlight.

As Tecolotl sees Chipotle fall before Xoco's repeated attacks, he decides to move; no point in guarding the hoop if many challengers come forth together.  Getting up, he runs north near Nochehuatl's position, keeping the vegetation between him and his target, making his way as silently and as undetected as possible.  "Beware of still water," says the old azteca proverb, "well, I certainly don't want to awake the storm in that giant," Tecolotl thinks.  And so it is that, before Nochehuatl is even aware of his fellow yaoquizque's move, a Sun Missile is slicing the air toward him.

As Tecolotl realises that his victim can't evade his shot in time, he calls: "First combat lesson, Storm Warrior, never go hunting on a full stomach, especially yours...."  The words are still floating in the air when the missile impacts in a gigantic flare, tearing out Nochehuatl's armor, melting his servos, beheading his powersuit and killing his radio.  Safe from his distance, Tecolotl glances at the remains of Nochehuatl's powersuit.  "Incredible, even after that hit, his torso his still operating !"  He looks down at his own armor, thinking how great it must be to have a real powersuit, not one made from the wastes of previous battles.  Then, completing his task, he fire his Night Fire at the Storm Warrior's body.  "No point in humiliating him by not ending his misfortune --"  his shot hits and finishes the destruction even as he is silently thanking his god and looking around, deciding on his next move.  "What new surprises will we have now?"

It all happened too quickly, really.  Nochehuatl just wasn't fast enough to react when the Sun Missile came at him.  As the detonation shredded armor, shield, weapons, he gritted his teeth, not crying out when tearing metal cut a line across his left thigh.  He tried to take stock: legs, arms, and head, all out of commission.  Torso systems still on line, the Heart of Jade still beating.  The suit was really just dead weight, though.

And then the Night Fire struck.  As the torso systems shut down, Nochehuatl tensed, waiting for the Heart to detonate.  Electricity arced from the suit into his stomach, burning him, and he ground his teeth even harder.

And then it stops.  His diagnostics are all dead, he has no sensors.  He tries to move the suit, but nothing happens.  Well.  At least he isn't dead.  Carefully, he reaches for the manual latches and disengages them, opening the suit up.  He looks around at the court.  There is the hoop, so very far away.  And there is the ball.

He climbs out of the wreckage that had been his suit.  "And so I outlive you, too?" he murmurs.  Then he turns back to the ball.  He is not dead yet, so he will continue.  He walks up to the ball, noting how much more impressive it seems without a suit around him.  Then he draws back and kicks.

Xoco's comm link lights up again, but a new voice speaks.  "Hello little Chichimec, I'm sorry I forgot my manners, but I couldn't help and enlighten Nochehuatl's experience on powersuit combat.  But I did not make this call to display hubris.  I wanted to know, does your heart still beat for a chance at the leadership of this odd war party ?  Do your eyes still gleam at that chance?  Think about it well, little friend, having a cat, or a bird, would only keep the friction among ourselves, but having a dog, maybe a shepherd dog, could be 'interesting'.  I have no wish to lead, for no one could trust a Death Messenger, nor do I think I have the abilities to make them stand together, but you...  Who knows?  Think about it, but think fast.  Were does your allegiance stands?  To your god? Your people?  Or your fellow yaoquizque?  Be careful though, your answer will have a deep impact, on this battlefield now, on this war party for a long time and mostly, on you."

A hiss of static, then Xoco's voice, as clear as if she was speaking in Tecolotl's ear: "Well, we both seem to have made deep impacts, Tethered Owl...  If you have no wish to lead, tell me why I should answer to you?  If your answer is 'Because I have you in my sights,' then you have already chosen your style of leadership, have you not, night bird?"  There is a short pause.

Even as he ears her words, Tecolotl can't help but smile behind his mask.  "What that one lacks in might, she makes up for in spirit !"  He opens up his comm channel again: "Wise words indeed, little one, but you still need to improve your manners.  But to answer your question, I want to know who I can trust my life with."  He takes a moment, choosing his words carefully (for this is not his 'mother tongue') and then: "So tell me, Xoco Necahual, can I trust you to lead us into Yoali Ehecatl's will?  Can I be sure that you will serve and protect our band of inexperienced and impetuous warriors before serving your own interests?  I have been betrayed by my own people before, and I swore to never again trust someone who would put himself before his comrades."

The Death Messenger takes two more rapid shots at the now unprotected Nochehuatl but the Storm Warrior, now freed from the remnants of his shattered powersuit, nimbly evades the beam of the Night Fire.  Frustrated of the killing shot, Tecolotl turns away and charges towards the spot near the central pyramid where Centehua and Yaotlquauhtli are still battling each other.  Like a scavenger waiting for the juicy bits to fall, he plunges into a thick border of vegetation and hides.

"Centehua!"  It's Xoco's voice again ringing in the Hummingbird Warrior's ears.  Centehua has barely time to curse the Chichimec for her sense of timing before the voice continues urgently: "The Death Messenger is on his way to finish off whoever is left standing between the Jaguar and you, in true scavenger fashion.  Can you convince the Jaguar to agree to a truce and gang up on Chickenbones there?  I'm going to try to get Nochehuatl and the ball closer to the hoop to fulfill our plan."

As the Death Messenger runs towards the distant hedge, Xoco charges to the spot where Nochehuatl, leaving a trail of dissipating smoke behind her.  The thick-plated powersuit's pounding steps sound like thunder as she runs in a straight line, using her jump jets to vault over the line of jungle separating her from the Storm Warrior.  Her landing near him makes the ground shiver.  He gets a good look at a typical Chichimec fashion statement: her suit is painted is garish red and green, with savage slashes of white, yellow, and red.

She stops about two paces from him and raises the face shield of her helmet.  Her brow is deeply furroughed.  Even with her 'suit, and him on foot, she still has to crane her neck to look at the Storm Warrior.

"Chickenbones has it in for you," she growls.  "We exchanged a few words; it seems he does not wish to lead but would consider me a good choice -- or a good patsy.  I told him I had already made my own arrangement, and nearly caused your death: that's when he tried to finish you off.  I'm glad you were able to avoid his attack.  I was looking forward to serving him his own dish, but the coward ran.

"Here's what I suggest: I'll shoot the ball towards the hoop, while you climb on the back of my 'suit.  Then we can move a lot faster, catch up with the ball, and I'll drop you off when we get in range of the hoop."  She looks at him intently, shifting her grip on the Flaying Stone.

Nochehuatl looks at her a moment.  "I seem to be the only person actually trying to get to the goal myself," he murmurs.

Xoco winks.  "Well, Aztec, you may think tlatchtli is serious stuff, but I think choosing a scout leader is even more serious.  If it's any consolation, I'm pretty sure the Jaguar really meant to put that ball through the hoop.  She closes her faceplate again.

Nochehuatl shrugs and shakes his head in amusement.  "It seems unlikely that I'll get to the goal without such a ploy," he says.  "Take your shot, if you would."  He bows slightly, gesturing towards the waiting ball.

Xoco turn towards the ball, and looks at it warily.  The ball is just bobbing in place, like a piece of tree bark on the water.  Suddenly, the idea of shooting at the slippery target doesn't seem so brilliant.  She glances at Nochehuatl, shakes her head.  "No good," she sighs through the faceplate that muffles her voice.  She waves him closer, and drops another smoke/chaff pod to hide them from the enemy.

Near the edge of the central pyramid, Centehua struggles until she is freed of the Jaguar's electronet.  As she is about to pounce back on her adversary, she catches a glimpse of movement.  Her head whips back towards the dark shape and she spots the approach of the Death Messenger.  She turns back towards Yaotlquauhtli, poised in mid-air.

[Additional private posts go here.]

The Thunderbolt hesitates a moment, then swings toward Tecolotl's suit as it charges across the game arena.  He toggles the communicator.  "Very well, little bird.  You have earned a reprieve for now.  But don't for a moment think you can betray me with impunity, you will find that I don't react very well to former friends.  When the Death Messenger is gone, we will continue this."

Centehua looks at Yaotlquauhtli as the net drops to the floor.  "I do not go back on my word," she says, with an intensity and seriousness that is usually only observed in ceremonies to the gods. The moment passes, and she continues. "'Death' is better with missiles than with clubs," she says, her tone reflecting the disgust of the use of missiles and lack of melee equipment. "He has no combat weapon. I suggest we rush him to get him into combat as quickly as possible.  Besides," she smiles, "bones are easier to net than birds!"

Then she swoops down towards the intruder, more like a falcon than a hummingbird.  She lands nearby, in the same hedge of jungle where he has found refuge.

Xoco's communicator lights up, indicating a very private message.  "The Jaguar agreed to the truce.  It is uneasy, but I have given my word not to attack him until the Death... or, as you say, 'Chickenbones' is destroyed.  The Jaguar is not a very good shot," Centehua says with a smile, "and Death is a slippery one.  We shall rush him and get him into combat as quickly as possible, and use our Thunderbolts as we attack.  Those shots must count, otherwise we will have a hard time with his powerfield!  If you can waft some smoke over this way, it would be appreciated!"

Far down towards the hoop, the now suit-less Chipotle runs towards another hedge and the hoop behind it.

Yaotlquauhtli watches as Centehua sends her suit careening toward the approaching Death Messenger.  His temper put aside for the moment, he lets a wry smile escape and triggers the Gravitic Propulsion systems in his legs.  At the end of his arc he straightens, setting down in the brush next to the Hummingbird Warrior and preparing to dodge any missile that should come his way.  Missiles...  Why was someone who would load their suit with such a cowardly weapon even allowed on this team?  Surely Yoali Ehecatl must have had some purpose.
 

Endgame

The smoke dissipates, and Xoco reappears -- but this time she is carrying Nochehuatl!  She runs up to the floating, glowing energy ball, coming in contact with it for the first time.  It is rather unsettling that the thing is almost entirely unlike a normal tlatchtli ball, but hey, she'll give this a try.  She draws back her right leg, pivots on her hip, careful to balance against the added weight she is carrying, and launches a powerful but tricky spin kick.  She hits the ball with her shin and sends it rocketing towards the hoop.  Well pleased with herself, she runs after the streaking ball, using her jump jets to catch up with the bouncy thing.  Nochehuatl is treated to a jolting ride.

Puzzled by the Hummingbird and the Jaguar's moves, Tecolotl waste a few moments thinking about the situation when he notices Xoco's moves with Nochehuatl.  It is then that he finally understands what has been going on...  "Nice team," he thinks.  Senseless for him to loose his time with those odd baits, when the real prizes are still in the game!  Even tough it is no longer an "individual" game.  Running and jumping over the land he comes crashing down Xoco's alley. "There they are," he thinks.  What was that other old saying he used to hear from his mom...  "Mom?"  For a moment, his mind floats out of the game and the stake they are playing for.. "Mom"... "Trapped like a squirrel," the voice says...  "No, it sounded different," says another...  "Haa...  Yess," comes this one, "trapped like a rat!"  "But then, they're almost alike, who would notice the differences?"  As he comes back to the game he notices the Storm Warrior hanging on Xoco's back.  So he lets loose a Night Fire shot and is amazed at the grace with which Nochehuatl avoids it.  "This one is truly a great warrior," he thinks.  Letting his focus fall back on Nochehuatl's protector, he gets his last missile prompted and fires, hoping to balance the game a little more, but as he sees the strange effects of his heavy missile his temper darkens a little... and they get stronger, all of them...  Xoco's Jade Fists are shattered by the blow of the heavy missile, but she and Nochehuatl are otherwise unharmed.

While the Death Messenger ponders his missile attack on Xoco, he is oblivious to the noise that starts small, but becomes louder and louder.  Tecolotl, suddenly realizing it is the scream of a battle cry, turns only to find a jade blue blur streaking towards him.  With a terrific crash, the Hummer falls hard on the Messenger, throwing him backwards and to the ground.  The Death Messenger's Powerfield flickers and goes off with a screech of static as it absorbs the tremendous impact.  Tecolotl hears something crack ominously as he goes down.  A blinking red light on his status display informs him that his jump jets have just been damaged irreparably.

As the Hummingbird Warrior falls to the ground herself, the game court trembles with the force.  "I deliver a message to the Death Messenger!" Centehua pants.  "Missiles are for the weak! Learn now what a true warrior can do!"  She pauses a moment.  "Jaguars are known to attack injured prey.  Pray to the Gods he does not see you as such!"  She looks over to Yaotlquauhtli, and then back to Tecolotl.

Xoco's communicator sparks to life. "How is that, little sister?" Centehua chuckles slightly, basking in the glow of a well executed fight maneuver.  "Let us see now if the Jaguar can deliver what he promises as well.  If not, he will taste my Sun Spear!.....  Is the Storm Warrior living up to his nature, and weathering this hurricane?"

"Good hit, Hummingbird!  Nochehuatl is fine," Xoco answers, a bit breathless.  "Mostly, anyway.  We're almost there...  And how fortunate for all of us that the Jaguar can't quite reach as far as you can -- or as far as he might like."

Meanwhile, Chipotle keeps advancing towards Xoco, Nochehuatl and the ball as fast as he can without the assistance of a powersuit.

Yaotlquauhtli rises into a hover, spins, and jets off after the Death Messenger and the Hummingbird as the two disappear beyond the bushes.  A resounding crash announces Centehua's arrival, and Yaotlquauhtli ducks into the bushes.  On the other side he is treated to the sight of both warriors lying on the ground.  Briefly the thought occurs of ending the duel with Centehua now, but it's only a fleeting thought.  An amusing one, though.  Almost there... a little further and he will be in range...

Xoco, still sore (morally and physically) from the heavy missile impact, looks over her shoulder at the splattered Death Messenger.  "Hmm, Storm Warrior?  I think this might be a good time for you to dive in the bushes.  Preferably away from the persistent Way Bringer.  I think the Death Messenger has a delivery for you..."

Still slightly dazed from the impact of the missile with Xoco's suit, Nochehuatl takes stock of the situation.  Everyone is converging at last, it seems.  The problem with his riding like this is it put two targets in one location -- rarely good tactics.  Time to change that; he leaps down and to one side, trying to put a bit of distance between them while still closing in on the goal.

His mind still shaking from Centehua's attack, Tecolotl turns back toward the hoop and the warriors nearest to it.  Clearing his mind, trying to keep his anger from turning him from his goals, he aims and takes a shot a the fleeting Nochehuatl.  When he sees Nochehuatl get up after the Night Fire shot he holds his breath for a second, amazed and disbelieving what his eyes are showing him.  "Thank Yoali Ehecatl this is only a game...  I would not want to make enemies out of this one's family."  But what must be done will be done, even at the sacrifice of exposing himself even longer.  He takes aim again and finishes the Storm Warrior's agony.

Nochehuatl is making his way into the bushes when the blast catches him.  His muscles convulse as the Night Fire burns along his nerves, and he falls to one knee, twitching.  He grits his teeth and stands up again, the black halo fading.  He is just in time for the next blast to smash into him.  This time, the black aura doesn't fade away; instead, everything else does.

Seeing his target finally fall down, the Death Messenger can't help but think, "That one's spirit would have made an incredibly good slave fighter though, better than any coming from Mictlantecutli."  "But now, the winner will be decided soon, anything is possible again," says one of the wisest, "The deception is over," says a bitter one...

The black nimbus of the Night Fire flickers once last time around the Storm Warrior and devours him, leaving the first casualty of the deadly game.  For a fraction of a heartbeat, everything seems to stop, then the silence is filled with a scream of fury.  "NOOOOO!!!"  The Chichimec turns her Flaying Stone towards Tecolotl.

As Tecolotl sees the Flaying Stone shot coming his way he opens his comlink to Xoco.  "Before you take out your revenge upon me, little Chichimec, consider the fact that you are now free of your oath toward the Storm Warrior...  You have fought well and you are a most honorable, and cunning, opponent, but now, victory lies within your grasp.  I know I cannot sustain both your fury and Centehua's fury, but what will you do once you've gotten rid of both the Jaguar and me?  There will still be an opponent against you, and a most dangerous one so far.  Friends make the worst enemies little one... beware.  Consider it before you strike at me again.  Don't you feel victory at arm's length?  If you move for it, I will support you..."

Xoco opens fire, but in vain.  Even on the ground, the Owl can still twist and turn with agility to evade her shot.  The scream of rage rolls on, turning into an animal snarl.

Centehua watches as Tecolotl blasts Nochehuatl, sending his spirit away.  She turns back and glares at the Messenger.  "Coward! Not only do you use missiles, but you shoot your fellow warriors in the back, denying them the full glory of death in combat!  Your decisions are weak! You shall not lead this group!" She aims her Sun Spear at him and fires. The bolt zips by the Messenger, just missing him.  She hisses with disbelief as she watches the shot.  Growing more angry, she swings the Thunderbolt around and takes aim.  It begins to glow and whine with its energy charge. "Let Yoali Ehecatl decide your fate! Pray that Mictlantecutli shall not have to join Tlaloc in sending another warrior!" With a terrific scream of rage, Centehua fires the Thunderbolt.  The bolt leaps from the gun onto Tecolotl, striking him square in the chest.  The blinding white light tears through the powersuit as if it was the manifestation of Centehua's rage.  Her eyes remain focused on him after the energy dissipates, seeing if he will stir again.

Yaotlquauhtli performs what essentially is a long hop, leaping into the air in a parabola designed to set him down in the bushes next to Tecolotl.  Landing in a crouch and straightening he casts a brief glance at Xoco, who is getting a bit close to the goal for his liking, then turns his attention back to the prone Death Messenger.  "Stunned, damaged and lying on the ground,"  he mutters.  "Not much of a kill.  Still, the object of the game is to win..."  Raising his arm, he triggers the Thunderbolt.

At just the wrong time, Tecolotl rolls left and Yaotlquauhtli's shot blasts a good-sized hole in the ground where the Death Messenger's suit had been lying.  The Jaguar Warrior winces as dirt rains around the area.  How the hell did that happen?  He'll have to get his suit recalibrated after this whole debacle is over.

"Xoco! The Death Messenger's fate has been sealed.  The gods have spoken!" Centehua's voice reflected the satisfaction of bringing justice to the Storm Warrior's death.  Turning more serious, she continues.  "I have yet to remove the Jaguar as a threat.  He is used his Thunderbolt, so I do not need to fear that attack anymore.  What shall be our next move?"

"These are only teaching suits --"  Xoco's voice is a growl.  "Nochehuatl is still with us.  I mean to send the ball through the hoop and give the title to him.  I will abide by my oath!"

Xoco, still shaking with rage, flails at the hovering ball with a vicious thrust kick.  The ball zooms away in a fiery arc, coming to rest near the hoop with a slight tremor.  Xoco forges behind, using her jump jets to follow the streaking ball.  She lands hard near the goal post, and with a hip shot, sends the ball through the hoop.  Throwing her head back, she lets out a bloodcurdling howl.

And in an instant the various young warriors find themselves back inside their teaching suits in the training hall - uninjured and whole.
 

Starting screen shot of the game - Clickable map with links to the players' powersuit stats
Combat Reference - Reference chart for the six players' initiative, actions, attack and dodge values
Final screen shot of the action - Last updated 9 October 2000: Xoco's move
Close-up - Last updated 9 October 2000: End shot

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