Pulse after pulse flashed into the shaft. Flames and smoke erupted through the holes each pulse burned through the shaft's walls. Sheared free from its cables, the flaming elevator car crashed ten stories into the building's basement.
Dechan cut off the laser, satisfied that nothing Human could survive that inferno.
“That's for Shadd and all the others,” he said. Magnified by the Hawk'sexternal speakers, his words echoed off the surrounding buildings.
Dechan had gotten his revenge, yet he didn't feel satisfied. He just felt empty.
48
Central Square, Cerant, An Ting
Galedon Military District, Draconis Combine
14 January 3028
Dechan stood on the sloping surface of his Shadow Hawk'sfoot and leaned back against the 'Mech's leg. By draping his arm through a climbing rung, he was able to relax a bit, to the relief of his exhausted body. What he really wanted to do was lie down and sleep for a day or three, but that was a luxury he'd have to forego a while longer. After Wolf's announcement that he would address the Dragoons about their course of action, Dechan had decided to acquire a good view of the noisy square where the speech would take place. He was not about to sleep through it.
The 'Mech's shadow covered him, protecting him from the hot sun. The other still-functional BattleMechs of his company were scattered around the south edge of the central square. Like Dechan, their pilots sheltered in the shade of the machines.
Below him, Thom Dominguez stood in the shade between the Hawk'slegs. Sergeant Dominguez's Wolverinewas still in the repair shop, but the rest of his Recon Lance was present. Battered, but present.
“I don't think we'll have any trouble from the Snakes today.”
Dominguez's comment dragged Dechan back from his near slumber. “Huh,” he replied intelligently.
“I mean, I ain't seen a Snake all day. City's been a ghost town since the Ryuken pulled out yesterday.”
“Lucky for you, since you're naked,” Dechan responded, referring to Dominguez's temporary lack of a 'Mech.
“Unity! A man don't need a 'Mech to chase these worthless worms. A toddler with a simulator could rout them. Some samurai,” Dominguez huffed, spitting on the pavement near the Shadow Hawk'sleft foot. “I thought we were going to have a fight of it. The Ryuken Jocks were reasonably competent on Barlow's End.”
“They still are. The guys we fought here were mostly greenies. Most of the Barlow Jocks went over to the Iron Man's regiment on Misery. Bet they couldn't stand that Akuma bastard.”
“They must've really hated him to trade a bunk on a soft planet like this for a slot on that frozen hellhole.” Dominguez rubbed the back of his neck and yawned. “Poor trade.”
“I think I might have considered it, too, if Akuma had been my CO.”
Dominguez thought about that a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
Dechan looked around the square. The once-shining wood and marble facades of the public buildings were chipped and stained. The pavement was littered with debris from the street riots, overlaid by the more plentiful debris of the recent fighting. The biggest chunks of rubble had been bulldozed into heaps to clear space for the hundreds of Dragoons who would be coming to hear Wolf's address.
Across the square stood more BattleMechs. They were from Lean's Company and were already waiting here when Dechan's troops arrived. Like Dechan's 'Mech unit, they had arrived ahead of the bulk of the Dragoons. That had been planned for safety's sake, for no one wanted the tired pilots of the giant machines to accidentally trample any of their own people.
Lean had gotten to the square even earlier and grabbed the area in front of Government House, which annoyed Dechan because he'd wanted the spot for his own company. He knew that it was the only one in the square that was going to offer enough shade for several BattleMechs by the time Wolf began his address. Already the building's tattered bulk blocked the early afternoon sunlight.
From his vantage point, Dechan could see the ‘Mech Warriors of Lean's command gathered at the feet of her Archer.They looked even more exhausted than his own crew. The long days of city fighting had taken their toll. No Dragoon had slept through a full night in over a week.
Dragoon foot soldiers, support personnel, and dependents had been arriving for nearly half an hour. The square was almost full, with every Dragoon present on An Ting anxious to hear Wolf's address. The only ones not attending were those charged with keeping the remnants of Ryuken- ichiaway from Cerant or with maintaining high guard in the aerospace above the city.
A familiar sound reached Dechan's ears, carrying easily above the noise of the milling Dragoons. It was the unmistakable thunder of giant BattleMech feet striking concrete. Dechan slid his arm free of the climbing rung. Gripping it tightly, he swung his body out to get a better viewing angle.
“What is it?” Dominguez called. From his position, he couldn't see through the crowd.
A smile lit Dechan's face. “It's the kids.” As the crowd nearest the street raised a hurrah at the sight of the new arrivals, the shouting became contagious and spread across the square. The cheering took up the rhythm of the pounding feet.
A half-dozen machines entered the square. Each was a training 'Mech and carried the insignia of the Training Command. These young pilots had distinguished themselves by saving the Dragoons at Boupeig barracks from the first onslaught of the Ryuken and had continued to prove themselves as warriors in the fighting that followed. They had served as the mobile reaction force for the defense of the barracks area, freeing the more experienced warriors of Lean's and Fraser's companies for the tricky work of city-fighting. The young pilots were to be decorated today, which was the last time they would pilot the training machines. After this, they would be assigned to BattleMechs and duty among the regiments. They had earned their places. The heroes of the Training Command piloted their 'Mechs into the roped-off area reserved for them and powered down. The open-topped groundcar that had been following in their wake pulled through their formation and halted before the steps of the administration building. Dechan could see a white-haired officer, who had to be Colonel Ellman, exit the car. Though exhaustion slumped his shoulders, he still radiated pride in his charges. That pride was well-justified, Dechan thought. Those kids had come through in a spot that would have challenged experienced ‘MechWarriors.
The excitement of the trainees' arrival died away, and the gathered Dragoons returned to their mutterings. From his perch, Dechan listened in on a few within earshot. The desire for revenge was on everyone's lips, and people seemed to differ only in their opinions of the best way to go about it. Most seemed to want to burn Luthien around Takashi Kurita's ears and to use Warlord Samsonov as kindling.
A flash of movement in the darkness inside the administration building caught Dechan's attention. Eyes straining, he squinted through the sun's glare before remembering that the Binox goggles, which he had brought along for a better view, had a polarized setting as well. He pulled them up from the thong around his neck and snugged them into place. Now he was able to peer into the gloomy hallway that ran from the open doors deep into the building.
Colonel Wolf was on his way up the corridor, his step steady and strong, his head held high. Dechan couldn't understand how a fifty-plus-year-old man like Wolf could bounce back so quickly. It was the young ones like himself who were supposed to be resilient. Dechan knew that Wolf had to be as exhausted as the rest of them, but the Colonel didn't show it.