The fighting had slowed down to a bitter, house-tohouse, man-to-man struggle. Most of the Komani had dismounted from their flyers and fought now on foot. A few still remained aloft, though, to pepper rooftops and windows. Clanthas’ veranda had been buzzed several times. Vorgens now held a beam pistol in his hand.
Although they were outnumbered, the Komani were relentlessly pressing their attack home. They had quickly learned to stay out of the buildings, where a dozen Shinarians could surprise a lone invader. Now they were boring through the streets and over the rooftops, routing the city’s defenders with superior discipline and the dispassionate courage that comes from long experience in battle.
Three times Aikens had to move his core of Imperial Marines backwards, because the Komani had penetrated the streets on their flanks and threatened to surround them. Now they were fighting in the square that opened onto the warehouse district.
Vorgens could see, too, that the Komani sacking the Greater City must have received word of the heavy fighting going on near the warehouses. They had stopped heir senseless looting and burning, and were forming up in the streets.
The Watchman ducked around a comer of the veranda to Aikens at his makeshift communications center. The brigadier had taken one side of the veranda and filled it with technicians, aides, and equipment.
He was leaning over one of the techs, barking orders into a viewscreen. Vorgens touched his arm. The brigadier straightened and turned to the Watchman.