Jonah pondered that for a moment. Pummeled by a ton of rocks. That meshed pretty well with the way he felt. “Ouch,” he said.

“No kidding, Captain.”

“Where are we now?”

“Prefecture VI. Not far from Kyrkbacken, actually. You were out of it for quite a while.”

“So I gathered.” His throat and mouth were dry; he swallowed, trying to ease it. “And the rest of the company? What were our losses?”

“Sixty-two dead, 220 wounded.”

Staggering. Eighteen people came out of that battle unhurt. Eighteen. Echo Company no longer existed as a fighting force. It might eventually be brought back up to strength with new recruits, but that would mean re-creating the unit from scratch. With those casualty figures, not even enough able troopers remained to make up a training cadre.

And what of the rest of the militias? Their losses can’t have been that severe, Jonah thought—they weren’t standing between Ma-Tzu Kai and their goal, like we were. But the losses still had to be heavy. How many more hundreds lay on Kurragin, forever out of the reach of their mourning families?

But still, it was a miracle. More than two hundred of them still lived. Outmanned, outgunned, and ordered into a suicide charge, and most were still alive. He felt the pain of each death, but marveled that it hadn’t been more.

He closed his eyes again, feeling moisture well up in them, and letting it flow. “What a troop,” he said. “What a bloody good troop.”

“Roger that.”

“Bunch of rookies. Probably didn’t even know they should all be dead.”

Footsteps sounded in the hall outside. A medic came in, all brisk efficiency. “Time to change your dressings, Sergeant Turk.”

He wheeled Turk away, leaving Jonah alone and empty, staring at the sterile white light above. He wasn’t alone for long before he heard more footsteps, two sets this time.

The footsteps turned out to belong to a woman he didn’t recognize, in the uniform of a Knight of the Sphere, and a civilian man in a well-cut suit. The civilian had a vaguely familiar face, Jonah thought… had he seen it before on the tri-vid news? He didn’t know, and trying to remember was too much work.

The Knight was smiling. “Captain Levin! It’s good to see you awake at last.”

At last? Jonah wondered silently. How long was I—

The civilian spoke before he could say anything. “The Republic owes you a very great debt, Captain.”

Even when healthy, Jonah would have been pressed to come up with a good response to that remark. In his current condition, there was no chance.

“If you hadn’t held the hill,” the Knight said, “House Ma-Tzu Kai would have controlled the whole valley. They would have smashed into us as soon as they could. It would have been a rout.”

“It—it was…” He ran out of words, uncertain what he was supposed to say to a statement like that. “Orders,” he said finally. “We had orders.”

The Knight said nothing, but she nodded, and he saw from her face that she understood. “I am Lady Maya Avellar,” she said. “And this is Senator Geoffrey Mallowes from Skye. He is here to convey The Republic’s thanks in person.”

“Indeed,” said Mallowes. “We had some quite vigorous debate, you might like to know, on the question of exactly how the Senate should honor your valiant defense of Prospect Hill.”

“‘My defense’ …my company, you mean. I wasn’t the only one up there.” Jonah pushed the words through cracked lips.

The Senator continued as if Jonah hadn’t spoken. “There was considerable discussion as to what decoration might be appropriate—there was even some controversy over whether a member of a planetary militia, even one on loan to The Republic for a specific campaign, would be eligible for any of The Republic’s awards—but in the end the Council of Paladins trumped us.” Jonah heard a strange note in Mallowe’s voice that, had his mind been sharper, he might have been able to recognize. “They have recognition for you that is likely beyond anything the Senate can offer.”

He turned to Lady Avellar, his expression seeming to sour. She spoke. “The Paladins of the Sphere are pleased to offer you thanks for your heroic actions, and to inform you of your appointment as a Knight of the Sphere.”

Jonah’s face hurt, his throat hurt and his lips hurt, but despite all that he almost laughed. Reward? Becoming a Knight, with the heightened profile and notoriety that came with it, seemed as much curse as reward.

“My company,” he said, stifling a laugh in a way that looked like he was choking a sob. “Reward my company first.”

Senator Mallowes looked taken aback. Apparently he thought his announcement would be met with deeper gratitude.

Lady Avellar’s smile, though, remained steady. “In recognition of your service you are being made a Knight of the Sphere, but you will remain attached to Kyrkbacken for a time. Should you know of any soldiers or companies within your jurisdiction who deserve special recognition, you will have several resources at your disposal with which to reward them.”

Jonah relaxed a little, letting his head sink into the pile of pillows behind him. Whether she knew it or not, Avellar had said exactly the right thing. Had she tried to appeal to his pride, or convince him the promotion was something he deserved, the conversation would have headed in a very different direction. But by telling him this promotion gave him the means to help people who deserved it, she gave him only one option.

“Thank you. You can be sure I’ll hold you to that promise.”

Avellar bobbed her head. “We’re here because of your dedication to keeping a promise. We hope you’ll recognize that quality in many of your fellow Knights.”

Mallowes, still seeming off-balance, tried to reassert himself in the conversation. “You have a bright future in The Republic, young man. Your actions have already taught us to expect the best of you.”

Jonah bowed his head in acknowledgment of the Senator’s words, but he thought to himself: if you truly knew anything about me, you’d know that such words have very little effect.

Jonah bore many scars from that battle, some of which still ached when the weather changed. But many members of Echo Company suffered far more.

The upper ranks of the Kyrkbacken Militia were filled with veterans of Echo Company. Some had retired from the military, a few to teaching positions in military academies, a few away from the military altogether. Jonah kept careful track of each and every survivor, never letting a single one fall through society’s cracks, helping where he could.

That was why he was willing to become a Knight, and later a Paladin. He hated politics and the trappings of office, but, as he saw it, those things weren’t the core of his job. Across the Sphere, there were millions of lines—in battle and in peace—that needed to be held. And he knew how to hold them.