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  "Listen up. We've stepped in the guano up to our knees and that's no lie. Pick your targets and give each other some support. I'll take the Charger, but the best I can hope for is a draw. It'll be up to you to do the rest."

  Jeremiah felt renewed admiration for his lance commander. She knew her 'Mech was the least-suited for a slugging match and had decided to do her best before she was taken out. It was the same conclusion he had drawn, but she'd come up with it sooner. He tried to keep an eye on Esmeralda's progress as she headed toward the center of the makeshift town, but the Hatchetman and the Javelin were heading his way. Ignoring the sensor readings and data screens, he concentrated on the front view screens and prepared to make his move.

  The Hatchetman was definitely the better warrior. As the duo moved closer, the Hatchetman pilot used the bulk of the Javelin to conceal the movement of his arms, especially the one with the hatchet. When the Javelin attacked, however, the Hatchetman was there almost immediately. The Javelin began to smash down on the Shadow Hawk's head with both arms in an attempt to finish Rose with a single raining of blows to the cockpit. Moving laterally, Rose managed to deflect the first blow with an upraised forearm and then take the second blow on the shoulder. Metal screeched in protest and he could feel the Shadow Hawk lurch to the left as the second blow connected. Moving with the blow, Rose brought the Shadow Hawk nearly to a crouch. He could almost hear the Javelin pilot gloating as he imagined Rose's 'Mech downed with one attack. But if there was a shout, it was one of frustration as the Shadow Hawk's left foot shot out and into the left knee of the Javelin.

  Armored plates popped loose from the force of the blow and the frame buckled back as the joint was hyper-extended. Myomer bundles tore free from the joint, showering the sand with thousands of blue-green sparks. Rose attempted to follow up the attack with a punch, but the flashing axe of the Hatchetman forced him to jump back. He was quick, but the axe still caught a portion of the Shadow Hawk's right torso, burrowing into the metal, but failing to breach the thick armor.

  A second blow from the axe went wide of the mark, but Rose was again forced away from the damaged Javelin. Attempting to circle the Hatchetman did no good as the constantly moving axe threatened to strike whenever he got close. Although wounded, the Javelin was providing effective protection to the Hatchetman's back and being protected at the same time.

  Rose was about to rush the Hatchetman when much-needed assistance arrived. Little Mary in her Stinger had managed to circle wide around the embattled pair and land near the Javelin. The Stinger was not normally much of a threat to a Javelin, but the pilot had barely regained control of the damaged leg when Little Mary arrived. Kicking was out of the question, however, as a continued shower of sparks marked the 'Mech's every movement. Little Mary charged just as Rose feinted with a kick toward the Hatchetman's leg. The axe flashed down, but failed to strike the Shadow Hawk. Overbalanced by the force of the swing, the Hatchetman's misstep let the nimble Stinger through.

  Little Mary hit the wounded 'Mech at a dead run as the Javelin attempted to limp out of the way. Her Stinger crashed into the right side of the Javelin, whose damaged leg snapped at the knee as the pilot attempted to stay upright. The two 'Mechs went down as the smaller 'Mech lost balance and crashed on top of the one-legged Javelin.

  Both 'Mechs lay still for a moment, then Rose moved in on the Hatchetman as it started toward the prone pair of 'Mechs. As the Shadow Hawk's foot shot forward, however, the Hatchetman's deadly axe swung in a backhanded arc toward the Shadow Hawk's head. The blows struck simultaneously, but the results were dramatically different. As the kick buckled plates of steel and ceramic in the Hatchetman's leg, the axe took off the top of the Shadow Hawk's head. All the head armor, as well as all the communications arrays and sensor equipment, were neatly sheared away.

  The force of the blow sent the Shadow Hawk staggering backward. Rose managed to stay upright for two clumsy steps before his 'Mech fell flat on its back. As the force of the impact tore through him, he felt the wound over his ribs reopen. The cockpit immediately filled with smoke and sparks as the communications system shorted out. Rose fought for the internal fire extinguisher, but repeated attempts proved useless. He was reaching for the manual fire extinguisher when he noticed the primary screen.

  The Hatchetman was poised above him, the axe already falling. Rose managed to move just enough to take the blow on the Shadow Hawk's heavily armored chest. He could feel the impact of the axe, but the smoke was so thick it was becoming impossible to see the front viewscreen. Throwing caution to the wind, he ignored the pummeling hatchet and groped for the fire extinguisher. The heavy axe fell twice more before the flames were put out and the smoke had cleared enough to see. Rose immediately wondered why he'd bothered.

  His front armor had been breached, lighting up the status display like Luthien on New Year's Eve. He glanced at the main view screen and noticed that the Hatchet-man's axe dripped fluid where it had sunk into the insides of the Shadow Hawk. The axe was about to fall for the fourth time when Little Mary saved him.

  Ramming the Hatchetman from behind she pushed the 'Mech over the prone Shadow Hawk and sent it sprawling face-down onto the arena floor. Rose managed to regain his feet and thanked his god that the axe had not severely damaged either the Hawk's gyro or the engine.

  Mary continued to press her advantage, but when she got close enough to make a second attack on the Hatchetman, it was already standing. She moved in for a strike, but the longer reach of the axe struck first, severing the Stinger's left arm with a single fluid move, then biting into the torso. Although the Stinger's kick damaged the wounded leg of the Hatchetman, it did not seem to have any effect on the 'Mech's movement. Little Mary went down hard as the Hatchetman pulled the axe free of the torso.

  Rose began to move as the Hatchetman neatly cut off the Stinger's left leg. Blood was flowing freely down his side, but Rose blotted out the pain and concentrated on the Hatchetman. The Stinger struggled to rise, but could only flop ineffectively as the Hatchetman prepared to deliver the coup de grace.

  Rose, however, struck first. As the axe began its back swing, he punched into the Hatchetman's damaged back. His fist drove through the delicate circuits, finally stopping when the 'Mech's gyro ground itself into a thousand pieces against the armor-plated fist. Instantly the Hatchetman's joints locked up. Over-balanced by the extension of the axe, the 'Mech teetered for a moment, then tipped onto its side.

  Rose scanned the remains of the battlefield, prepared to continue the fight. Esmeralda and her Warhammer stood on the far edge of the arena among the remains of the Charger she had fought. Her Warhammer's remaining arm had impaled the Charger's chest, evidently destroying its gyro, but the Charger's repeated attacks had destroyed the Warhammer's right leg. She made no effort to disentangle herself, because removing her 'Mech's PPC from the Charger's chest would no doubt have sent her crippled 'Mech to the ground.

  The Hunchback and the Centurion were slightly harder to find. The two had fallen into a smaller building and become entangled. The Hunchback had landed on top, effectively pinning the Centurion in the building. Until the Hunchback moved, the Centurion was trapped. He surrendered when he saw that the Shadow Hawk was still in the fight.

  Seconds later the ring announcer began broadcasting over the arena's loudspeakers, but Rose's attention was elsewhere. He had managed to acquire a 'Mech and none of his lancemates had died in the process. He reached across his body and pulled open his flight suit to stop the flow of blood. While pressing firmly on the pad that covered the wound, he planned his future. Now he could return to the front lines and strike back at the invaders who had taken so much from him—a pay-back that was going to cost the Clans dearly.

  13

  Solaris City, Solaris

  9 August 3054

  Rose walked into Carstairs' office and collapsed into the overstuffed chair facing the stablemaster's desk. In the hours since the match his wounds had become increasingly painful and now even t
he walk here had left him short of breath. He rubbed his side and stared at the stablemaster.

  "You don't stand much on ceremony, do you, Rose?" Carstairs said. "Most people knock before they barge into a man's office."

  The man seemed nervous, probably frightened about Rose's reaction to the way the two stablemasters had secretly manipulated the conditions of the 'Mech battle. But what did Rose care about any of that? He'd come to Solaris for only one reason, and at last he was going to get what he'd come for—a BattleMech.

  Rose shrugged. "I thought I had a standing invitation. You did say you wanted to hear the rest of the story."

  Carstairs relaxed visibly when he saw that Rose hadn't come to make a scene. "So I did, so I did," he said, perhaps a trifle too heartily. "I tell you, Rose, I always feel good after a victory, but tonight. . .tonight I feel better than I have in years. What a match!"

  The stablemaster got up from his desk and walked around behind Rose, who then heard ice dropping into glasses and the sound of splashing liquid.

  "I bet Warwick is still crying his beady little eyes out over this one." Carstairs gloated, returning to view and offering Rose an unrequested tumbler. Rose took it without comment and set it on the arm of his chair.

  "Swing that chair around, Rose. I want to sit over here." Rose muscled the chair toward where Carstairs had taken up residence on a matching couch.

  "Have you seen the replays?" Rose smiled, but did not respond. He had not seen any of the actual tapes, but he'd heard several commentators reviewing the match. By all accounts Carstairs was a genius and his team incredible.

  "I've had so many calls in the last hour I've had to disconnect the service."

  "So, you're set." Rose raised the glass and took a small sip. Like every hard liquor he had ever tasted, this one burned all the way down, but instead of sitting like a lead weight in the bottom of his stomach, it seemed to seep away and leave a warm glow. Surprised, he regarded his glass.

  "Good stuff, eh? I've got a connection over in the Montenegro quarter who can get me a bottle every now and then. I try to save it for important occasions, and tonight I cracked the seal when the gates went up." Rose took another drink and savored the same warming effect. He knew it was only his imagination, but the pain in his side seemed more remote.

  "So, Mister Rose, what now?"

  "I leave Solaris tomorrow night aboard the Gentle Wind, and God willing, I'll never be back." Carstairs laughed and drank deeply.

  "I don't blame you, Rose. This place is not for the weak of heart."

  "Weak of heart? The people here are nothing but a pack of animals. The killing, the violence, the destruction. It's all they live for."

  "Right you are, Rose, but it still served your purpose, as it does theirs. It's a necessary thing, Solaris, and I'd not live anywhere else." Rose shrugged and drank again. He would never understand this planet, but Carstairs was right. It had served the purpose.

  "So, Rose, you were going to tell me a story."

  "Yes, per our agreement." Rose thought for a moment about his deal with Carstairs. In his rush to acquire a 'Mech, the telling of a simple story seemed like a fool's bargain on Carstairs' part. It had been easy to say yes at that moment, but now that the time had come to tell the tale, Rose realized he had given in too easily to the stablemaster's wishes. It had been more than two years since he last fought as a member of the Com Guards. Since that day he'd never talked about the fighting on Tukayyid.

  Rose had by now come to accept the guilt and frustration he felt whenever he remembered the events of the fateful battle on that world, yet the pain was fresh, undiminished by time. Looking over at Carstairs, Rose decided that if it was time to tell the story, it was not for the reasons the stablemaster thought. Confession was said to be good for the soul; now he would find out if that were true. Rose would tell Carstairs the whole story and see if that helped diminish the pain. He smiled and lifted his glass toward the couch.

  "I do like a man who pays his debts." Rose drained his glass and held it up in silent request for another. Carstairs heaved himself from the couch and returned with two more full glasses. Rose took a sip and then settled back into the chair.

  "I am, as you suspect, a former member of the Com Guards. For most of my adult life I have served as a member of that fighting corps, stationed on one planet or another in the Draconis Combine. I desired little more than to pilot my 'Mech, but that was not to be.

  "After several years as a 'Mech pilot, I was sent to Terra to learn the art of command at the Sandhurst Royal Military College. Three years later I was reassigned to the Ninety-first Division, Visions of Words, stationed on Luthien as an officer adept. In Inner Sphere terms that would be equivalent to the rank of captain. I was on Luthien when the Clans first invaded the Inner Sphere.

  "Despite what you may have heard, ComStar was as ignorant as everyone else about who and what the Clans were. We watched with growing frustration as the Clans drove further and further into Steiner and Kurita space. We drilled and we waited.

  "Eventually the drive came to a halt, and we believed the Clans had ended the invasion, but still we trained and practiced. When the attacks began again the soldiers of my command felt almost a sense of relief. A sense of purpose. Finally the grim news arrived that the Clan armies intended to attack Luthien. Here, finally, was the test of our trials and efforts. We would help the Draconis Combine defend its capital world.

  "When the invaders arrived, however, the Com Guard forces were ordered to return to our base. Although we were allowed to protect the ComStar compound, we were not to engage the Clans. I sat for more than fourteen hours in my cockpit listening to the Kuritans fighting and dying. I listened to the arrival of the Kell Hounds and Dragoons. I sat and looked out over a seemingly peaceful city as thousands died just a few kilometers away.

  "At the time I was furious. I even attempted to resign my commission, but Precentor Commander Brockton would not accept it. He finally placed me under house discipline to keep me from leaving. Three days later I was on a ship heading for a planet called Tukayyid.

  "It all seems so ironic now. I was like a caged animal on that voyage. I wanted combat with the Clans so bad I was ready to fight my commanders to get it. Six months later I had seen enough battle to last most men a lifetime."

  Rose held up his empty glass and waited silently as Carstairs refilled the drinks once more. He had tried unsuccessfully for months to forget the killing and battles on Tukayyid. He had refused to talk with anyone about the fighting and the killing; now he was practically telling his life story to a complete stranger.

  Rose sighed deeply and rubbed his slightly numb face. Was the liquor making him talkative? It seemed like a good excuse, but Rose knew he had carried the grief around long enough. Unexpectedly, one of his few happy memories of his father leapt into mind.

  The two had been walking back from the 'Mech bay late one night. Rose was barely ten, but already he loved to explore and play around the repair bay. On this night his father had discovered him among the servo motors along a bay wall, nearly inconsolable over some childhood disappointment. His father had simply taken him by the hand and begun to walk home. They went all the way in complete silence until they came finally to the front door of the house. At that point Cornelius Rose turned to his son and said, "When something is too bad to bear, tell someone that it hurts. When you do that, it passes your pain to them. All that will remain is the memory of the pain." Without another word, his father had opened the door and gone inside.

  Maybe Carstairs was the perfect person to tell. A stranger whom Rose would never see again. Let him live with the deaths; he didn't seem to have any problems with the idea of human misery. A tap on the shoulder jolted Rose back to the present moment. Carstairs stood above him with an outstretched glass. Taking the offered drink, Rose made his decision and resumed his story.

  "From the time the Clans landed, we were in almost constant combat. We were initially stationed in the Dinju Mountains, such
beautiful country that it was hard to imagine fighting in it. Every view was like a holopicture."

  "The battle began on May first. The Smoke Jaguars were the first to land, and other elements of our troops engaged them almost immediately upon their landing. Besides six 'Mechs, my command included tanks and infantry support, but once we arrived on Tukayyid the non-'Mech elements were reassigned as part of Precentor Martial Focht's plans. The overall redeployment made good strategic sense, but, tactically, it left us undermanned. We were used to fighting with combined arms and that hurt us at first.

  "Six hours into the fighting, five of the Jaguars broke through the initial battle line, a trio of those damn fast Ryoken backed by a pair of Vultures. We outnumbered them six to five and we had position on them, but they seemed to hold us in absolute contempt."

  "Two of the Ryoken charged my Shootist, firing at extreme range. The pilots were excellent marksmen, but their large lasers didn't inflict enough damage to even breach my armor before we unloaded on them. Jenkins, in a Thug, and Hopper, piloting a Crab, added their PPCs and large lasers to my lasers. By the time the first Ryoken reached me, its armor was paper-thin, but still un-breached. I slammed a full clip of depleted uranium shells smack into its center torso as Jenkins and Hopper concentrated on the trailing Ryoken. Sparks began to fly and thick smoke began boiling out of the opening I'd created. Explosions rocked the machine as it continued its charge toward me. I was just about to fire again when the entire 'Mech disintegrated before my eyes. It was almost as though we'd severed the cords that held it together."

  "I charged through the wreckage to add my firepower to that of Jenkins and Hopper. Emerging from the smoke of the Ryoken, I discovered Hopper had taken much of the Ryoken's fire. Gouges crisscrossed his 'Mech where the Clan lasers had melted away his armor. I fired as I ran, taking the other Ryoken in the leg, but failing to divert its attention. Jenkins breached the armor near the right shoulder and set off a plume of blue-white smoke that usually marks the death of a heat sink, but the Clan 'Mech continued to fire exclusively at Hopper. We gutted that 'Mech and still it clawed its way toward Hopper's Crab. As Jenkins clubbed it to death with his 'Mech's stocky arms, the Ryoken fired a final time, severing the Crab's left arm."