Bernard Germayne might not have been the most politically savvy guy, but as a tactician he had some talent. The battle hinged on finishing Catford’s force as fast as possible before he had to deal with us. We were a wild card and, for the moment, we were being played in his favor. With Catford gone, he’d have his company, Siwek’s company and the remains of the Militia, against which the two of us could not possibly stand. Killing a Knight of The Republic could have repercussions, there was no doubt about it, but if he was in firm control of the planet, the chances of retribution coming swiftly given the current crisis were negligible.

His Catapult launched two more salvos that laced Catford’s Jupiter with explosions. Armor shards whirled away, shattering further on the hard ground. The Jupiter seemed to hunch down, like an old man beneath a pounding rain, then rose up again, but did not turn to face Bernard. I don’t know if, in that moment, Catford realized he was not going to walk away from this fight, or chose to die in it to avoid the humiliation of being trapped and beaten. I might even give him the benefit of the doubt and suggest he decided to save some of his people. He sent his Jupiter into the midst of Siwek’s company, blazing away with the autocannons and PPCs, laying about with his right arm, smashing the Pack Hunter.

He did make inroads into their formation, but he never made it all the way through their murderous return fire. With its armor in tatters and right arm melted beyond recognition, the Jupiter fell forward. Fire vomited from the cockpit as the command couch ejection system ignited. The rockets that should have boosted him high into the air instead smashed him into the stone crescent around Blacklake.

With Catford’s death, the Ff W left wing stopped its battle against Bernard’s Scimitars. The three remaining Jessies swiveled their SRM launchers skyward in surrender, and clearly some intense negotiation went on. When the launchers came back down and the vehicles oriented northward, I figured the negotiations had ended in Bernard’s favor.

Bernard’s mercenaries and the remains of the Ff W fighters turned toward us.

Janella’s voice came through strongly and loudly over the radio. “Lord Bernard Germayne, I am Lady Janella Lakewood, Knight of The Republic of the Sphere. You and your people are to power down immediately. You are under arrest for conspiracy to murder a Republic citizen.”

Arrogance filled Bernard’s reply. “I control Basalt. Your Republic is powerless. Your charges have no validity here. You have no authority here. You are not wanted here. Leave my planet.”

“Lord Germayne, I ask you again to surrender, for the consequences of your refusal will be most dire.” Janella kept her voice even, but a little bit of an edge crept in. “Surrender, if not for yourself, then for your people. They need not die for your foolishness.”

“Your arrogance is unbelievable, woman.” I could see the sneer on Bernard’s face as he said that. “A hundred thousand C-bills to the one who kills her.”

In saying that, he gave Janella no choice.

She employed Colonel Niemeyer’s surprise.

Obsidian Island, Blacklake District

Basalt

Prefecture IV, Republic of the Sphere

2 March 3133

Bernard Germayne had managed to make for himself two enemies, one old and one rather new. The old one, Colonel Niemeyer, disliked Bernard as much as he loved Basalt. I’d seen his love for the world in the first visit he paid me. It never occurred to me that he’d have treated anyone else less harshly than he had me when he became aware of their presence, and he had not. He’d even kept tabs on us as best his resources allowed.

Which reacquainted him with Bernard’s newest enemy. Alba Dolehide really had not appreciated Bernard’s lack of trust in her, so she ran—right to Niemeyer. She’d correctly guessed that Niemeyer could hide her until things cooled off. She wanted to see Bernard brought down—both for personal reasons and because it was no mystery to her what sort of lousy ruler he’d make.

As a brake on him she’d even absconded with the location of a mixed lance of Bernard’s toys. Once the confrontation had been set for Obsidian Island, Niemeyer rounded up a group of pilots to man those machines and they were brought to a point in the jungle just west of the killing field. Since Niemeyer’s people were handling perimeter security, all reports of contacts in that direction were edited out of data sent to Bernard.

Short-range missiles shot from Obsidian Island, corkscrewing into their targets. Their detonations blasted craters in armor, but dropped no ’Mechs. Niemeyer’s people directed their fire at Bernard’s mercenaries and the remnants of the FfW, leaving the Militia untouched. Once they’d launched their missiles, they hunkered down to let pilots waste munitions and hot light on the ancient fortress.

The long-range shots from Alba’s lance likewise pounded the mercenaries, but with far more effect. She piloted an Arbalest and its missile salvo crunched the aft armor of a Legionnaire. The missiles opened its back and the autocannon ammo in the right side of its chest cooked off. The resulting explosion tossed the humanoid ’Mech to the right, where it clipped the mercenary Arbalest standing next to it.

Bernard and his people faced some tough choices. While Bernard didn’t fear attacking a Republic Knight, others in his command were more thoughtful, and yet others utterly mindless. The eager but stupid pilot in the Hatchetman launched his ’Mech into the air on jump jets. With the club upraised, he clearly intended to strike a swift blow and earn the bounty on Janella’s head.

Calmly and coldly, Janella backed the Tundra Wolf and brought the right arm up. The quartet of medium lasers snapped red light at the flying ’Mech. All but one struck it in the right elbow, vaporizing the last of its armor and burning into the joint. Titanium bones glowed red on their way to white, then became fluid. The forearm and club sailed away and the ’Mech, unbalanced, came down hard on the left leg. The hip joint snapped, driving the thigh up into the torso. The left arm flailed, as did the smoking stump of the right, then the ’Mech fell back. It smashed into the ground, shaking it, and shaking the confidence of those who thought the bounty would be easily won.

The warriors who had been in Siwek’s command hesitated before entering the fight. Catford’s Jessies did come forward, clearly anxious to win Bernard’s favor. With Alba’s people behind Bernard’s position the tactical situation balanced out the forces arrayed against us. It should have been an even fight.

What unbalanced it, however, was the Basalt Militia. As the commander said afterward, Janella and I had come into the fight and defended his people and planet. Bernard might have wanted to dispute his arrest, but ordering the murder of a Republic Knight wasn’t the way to do that. Being forced to choose sides, they chose for us and laid down a pattern of fire that drove the venturesome Jessies back.

All these actions happened in the course of five seconds, and I watched them with the same distance I’d watched Tri-Vid dramas while Teyte’s prisoner. I was in the combat, no doubt about it, but I was still detached from it. I knew that was how I had to be as a Ghost Knight.

I also realized it was wrong.

My mind flashed to the kitchen where I’d helped serve meals. Quam had said it would become a charnel house, but I saw another vision. I saw it as a prison compound, with Bernard’s enemies, wasted and filthy, warehoused until the whim struck him to kill them. He would do that without question, and with his leadership, others on Basalt would follow him. His poison would infect them and this beautiful world would die.