Don't Cry Wolf

By Triptych

It is well that war is so terrible, or we should grow too fond of it.

-Robert E. Lee (1807 - 1870)

Unlike the dreams of other boys, his subconscious fantasies were always grounded in reality. Where the other lads would imagine vistas of flying through the air on ethereal winds, he would be crawling on the ground, the sharp gravel piercing through his skinny knees and elbows, drawing crimson drops of blood. While his classmates would picture themselves standing triumphantly on top of the carcasses of slain fantastic beasts while reveling in honor and glory, he would visualize himself standing over the grave of his loved ones, sobbing as his tears would become one with the soft pitter-patter of the raindrops in his own cold, dreary world.

Despite being only eight years old, Duncan McGavin had already experienced several lifetimes of pain and loss. His older brother and sister had both met with tragic fates just a few months back and his parents had died many years before, he had never even known his father while his mother succumbed from complications arising from his own birth. People who remarked on his surname knew him to be the last surviving grandson of the legendary Lloyd McGavin, the founder of the Draconis Combine's elite Nightstalker Regiments. It was this factor that enabled him to get a scholarship at the Wolf's Dragoons Mercenary Training School on the independent world of Outreach. From the outset, Duncan had been the star pupil of his class, excelling in both MechWarrior training and leadership courses. With abilities that no boy even ten years older than him could match, Duncan was immediately put in the honors class and a rapid rise along the cadet hierarchy was highly conceivable at this point.

But when the dreams would come at him every night, he would be himself again- just a scared little boy, all alone in the darkness.

As the images of pain and despair threatened to overwhelm his fragile little body, Duncan gasped as he sat upright from the bed, beads of sweat running down from his forehead to his bare chest. As he mentally collected his thoughts while realizing it was just another nightmare, Duncan noticed that his hands clutched at his thermal blanket so forcefully that it hurt. As he threw the comforter over to one side, Duncan slipped out from the bed, his little toes touching the cold floor of the bedroom. Running his hand along his tousled blond hair as he wiped the remaining sweat off his brow, Duncan tiptoed over to where the window was. His roommate was still asleep and he didn't want to disturb him.

The little boy looked out into the cold winter night. Outreach was a temperate world; most planets across the Inner-Sphere still went by the ancient seasonal times of Terra, the birthplace of humanity. It was the month of December and while snow didn't fall on the main continent of Romulus, the bitterly cold wind from the north had come earlier than usual.

Duncan sighed. Although the school was going to adjourn for the winter holidays, he would stay behind while his classmates would rejoin their families all across the Inner-Sphere. Already most of the school's younger cadets had started their winter leave just last week and the rest would follow in the next few days. His roommate had offered him to be a guest when he went on his holidays but Duncan declined, he preferred to be alone this time. Maybe the two weeks of solitude would do him some good, the boy thought. As he looked out and saw the nearby buildings in the downtown area of Harlech, the main city, he noticed some twinkling lights and BattleMechs that moved along the main thoroughfares. Squinting his sleepy eyes for a closer look, Duncan had a suspicion that something wasn't right.

He felt the pressure wave a split second before it hurled him across the room and sent him sprawling to the floor near the base of his bed. The glassteel window was designed to withstand shocks like these as it shattered but did not break into little pieces as it retained its position on the wall. The explosion was akin to a large thump as Duncan's ears kept ringing a hollow tone for a few seconds before returning him to the ambient noises of shouting, screaming and a number of secondary explosions that seemed to be everywhere. A fire alarm sounded distantly out in the hall of the school dormitories.

Duncan's roommate, a curly-haired kid nine years of age named Tommy Tetsuhara instantly sat up from his own bed. "What the heck is going on?" He exclaimed.

"I don't know!" Duncan said as he stood up. "I was staring out the window and then everything exploded!"

Tommy instantly leapt out of his bed and stared at the shattered window. Although a year older than Duncan, Tommy was always loyal to him, standing by the younger boy no matter what had happened. When news of the recent death of his older brother began to spread among his classmates, Tommy decided to stay the night in another room, giving Duncan some time alone. When the older boys tried to pick on Duncan because he was smaller and thinner than most boys his age, it was always Tommy who would spring to his defense. Although Tommy was only achieving average test scores in mathematics and languages, Duncan would spend several hours every night tutoring his older roommate; it was his way of thanking Tommy for his friendship.

"So what do we do?" Tommy asked as the sounds of explosions and weapons fire began to get closer.

Duncan thought for a second. Although all the cadets were drilled when it came to a fire inside the boarding school, this looked like an ongoing attack against the Dragoons themselves. "Well, I think the first thing we should do is put some clothes on just in case we gotta leave." Duncan said as he began to open up the drawers underneath his bed.

"Good idea."

Just as both boys managed to put on their black and red cadet jumpsuits and shoes, a loud knock banged on their door. As Tommy opened it, they instantly saw the face of Jamal, one of the older cadets. Jamal was a tall, strapping twelve-year old of Azami descent who had been chosen to be one of the cadet leaders of the school by dint of his maturity and responsibility; he had also served as an off-duty mentor for Duncan numerous times, giving the younger boy some advice on advanced maneuvers on the 'Mech simulators. Duncan almost immediately remembered that Jamal had the responsibility of fire watch this evening.

"Come on," Jamal shouted as the fire alarm continued to whine out in the corridor. "I need your help!"

As all three boys went out into the hallway, they could see that several other boys had come out of their own rooms, half-dressed and looking dazed with confusion and fear as explosions shook the building.

"What do you want us to do?" Duncan asked the older boy as a few of the younger ones began to cry.

Jamal had to shout to be heard as Tommy tried to calm a few of the others. "You know the drill, I need you two to get all the boys in this section to go down to the underground evacuation area and wait till an adult instructor comes."

"You got it," Duncan smiled despite the stress. "Come on, Tommy!"

As the two started to assemble the younger boys into lines, cracks began to appear on the hallway ceiling, as it was obvious that the attackers were actually targeting the dormitory building itself. Several of the younger boys began to shriek as Duncan started to lead them calmly towards the stairwell leading down to the basement while Tommy brought up the rear and pushed along those boys that were too scared to move. Jamal started running the other way, checking to see if there were others within the building.

Within a few minutes, Duncan made it to the base of the basement stairwell as he opened a yellow-checkered, reinforced door near the edge of the underground room marked EVACUATION TUNNEL. Standing aside, Duncan kept the door open as the troop of younger boys began hurriedly filing in past him. Just as the last boy in line went in, Duncan was immediately knocked off his feet by an explosion that seemed to be too close. As he got up after experiencing a momentary bout of confusion because of the shockwave, he instantly noticed that the stairs above had collapsed and a crying six year-old boy was hanging on the top edge as Tommy held on to him from above.

"Tommy!" Duncan shouted as he ran until he was right underneath them. He could see Tommy's strained face as his roommate hung onto the boy with one hand while locking his free arm along the twisted metal of what was left of the stairwell. The lad was suspended almost five meters off the ground; if Tommy lost his grip or let go, the six year-old would have a very hard fall.

"I can't hold him…" Tommy's voice was overwrought with pain.

"Hang on, Tommy!" Duncan screamed as he desperately searched for a solution. Looking around, he instantly saw a stack of unused air mattresses, the dorm basement also served as a storeroom. With no time to lose, Duncan began to move the pile until it was directly underneath the hanging little boy. As he got up right on top of the pile of bedding, Duncan could almost touch the hanging child's feet if he jumped up. "Okay, Tommy. Let him go, I'll catch him." Duncan said breathlessly as he held up his arms to catch the hysterical little boy.

Just as Tommy let the toddler go, a loud explosion rocked the building and collapsed the remaining stairwell. As the six-year old child fell into Duncan's arms and both flopped onto the pile of cushions, the remaining upper supports collapsed, throwing Tommy headfirst onto the concrete basement floor a few meters away.

"Tommy!" Duncan screamed as he pushed the crying child aside and ran over to where his friend was. Tommy's eyes were open as blood trickled from his nose and mouth. As Duncan tried to feel a pulse on the limp wrist, he noticed that the heart made a few more ticks and then stopped as his friend's bony chest heaved one more time and then became still.

"Oh, Tommy." Duncan sobbed as he held onto his friend as long as he could.