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'sleft arm with a single fluid move, then biting into the torso. Although the Stinger'skick 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 Hatchetmanpulled the axe free of the torso.
Rose began to move as the Hatchetmanneatly cut off the Stinger'sleft leg. Blood was flowing freely down his side, but Rose blotted out the pain and concentrated on the Hatchetman.The Stingerstruggled to rise, but could only flop ineffectively as the Hatchetmanprepared to deliver the coup de grace.
Rose, however, struck first. As the axe began its back swing, he punched into the Hatchetman'sdamaged 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'sjoints 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 Warhammerstood on the far edge of the arena among the remains of the Chargershe had fought. Her Warhammer'sremaining arm had impaled the Charger'schest, evidently destroying its gyro, but the Charger'srepeated attacks had destroyed the Warhammer'sright leg. She made no effort to disentangle herself, because removing her 'Mech's PPC from the Charger'schest would no doubt have sent her crippled 'Mech to the ground.
The Hunchbackand the Centurionwere slightly harder to find. The two had fallen into a smaller building and become entangled. The Hunchbackhad landed on top, effectively pinning the Centurionin the building. Until the Hunchbackmoved, the Centurionwas trapped. He surrendered when he saw that the Shadow Hawkwas 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 the 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.