Vehicles from all sides came in fast to harry and nip at the flanks. They launched missiles and fired lasers. Their attacks shattered some armor, bubbled it up in other places. One of the Militia’s Scout Cars fell victim to a coordinated assault by Siwek’s Condors. It exploded spectacularly. One burning wheel flew and bounced over the battlefield in an omen of what awaited the combatants. On that side of the field, however, only the Militia advanced. Bernard held his troops back, even his Scimitars, letting Catford’s troops draw closer for reasons I could not fathom.

The scene in my cockpit shifted as Valiant’s pilot gave us a direct feed from his nose cameras. We swept over Obsidian Island, passing just beyond Bernard’s right flank. Flights of missiles launched from both sides, scarring the air with vapor trails, then wreathing ’Mechs with fire. Catford’s ’Mechs had moved out ahead of the FfW line. Siwek’s ’Mechs and SM1s were slow to deploy. Her vehicles continued the attacks on the Militia, wreaking yet more havoc. Siwek’s hovertanks weathered the counterattacks and continued to close to point-blank range, where their fire would be murderous.

The view shifted to other cameras on the DropShip as we came about. A tone sounded through the cockpit, quickly followed by staccato piping. When those trilled sounds ended…

The drop bay snapped open and Ghost slipped into the air. My holoview shifted to that supplied by the Mad Cat III’s own sensors, and a timer in the lower right corner counted down until landfall. I braced myself in the command couch and at five seconds I hit the landing rockets. They roared beneath the cockpit and slowed my descent just enough that, when I hit, the jolt merely loosened teeth in my head, but didn’t rattle them free.

“Down and full green.” I hit a button on the left joystick, jettisoning the landing rockets, then turned left and pointed myself at the battle. My display lit up with dozens of targets as Janella’s Tundra Wolf stalked up on my right. Our ’Mechs were resplendent in the red and gold of Republic armed forces, and there wasn’t a combatant down there that didn’t realize that the banner and silver star at the Tundra Wolf’s throat meant a Knight of The Republic had just entered the battle.

Our intent had been to lay into the vehicles attacking the Basalt Militia. During our drop, they’d closed and unleashed another attack, which had crushed two more of the Shandras. One burned where it stood, a blackened skeleton, while the other cartwheeled back into the lake to disappear in a cloud of steam. A concentrated set of salvos from Catford’s ’Mechs and I was fairly certain the Militia’s inexperienced pilots would break, leaving Bernard and us to be overwhelmed by FfW’s superior numbers.

Before we could begin to even the odds, however, the tide of battle shifted dramatically and I learned why Bernard had not gone directly after Catford. It was, instead, his intention to torture the man. Catford, who likely saw the battle of Obsidian Island as his return to glory, got to watch his dreams evaporate.

Driving further south and hooking back to the west, Captain Isabel Siwek brought her command lance around and unloaded everything they had into Catford’s ’Mech lance. The bird-legged Catapult just crumpled like a toy hit with a sledgehammer. One of the SM1s blasted the Arbalest with the autocannon, blowing its chest apart. The humanoid ’Mech staggered backward, then crashed into the trees. A small, resilient sapling snapped upward through its missing chest and wavered there for a second before bursting into flame.

Bernard had bought Siwek and her company of ’Mechs with a hefty bribe. As her treachery became manifest, Bernard’s mercenaries launched more missiles at Catford’s command. They concentrated on the heavier of the remaining two ’Mechs. Missile explosions rippled over the Jupiter but could not bring it to bay.

“Lead, which is it? Cat or the Rat?”

“Save the Militia.”

“As ordered, lead.” The command made sense, as the Militia troops were the only innocents in the battle. I dropped the gold crosshairs on the Black Hawk, got a pulsing dot in the heart of them to indicate a lock, then tightened up on two triggers. Ghost rocked back and down as forty missiles arced skyward, then converged on the ’Mech. Waves of heat washed over me, and watching the damage done sent a chill through me.

The missiles sowed fire all over and around the Black Hawk, pulverizing armor. It fell in a ferro-ceramic blizzard around the ’Mech’s feet, in some cases sloughing off in whole sheets. The humanoid engine of war wavered for a moment as the smoke cleared. The pilot fought to keep the machine in balance, but the sudden loss of tons of armor and the battering it had taken left him unable to control it. It pitched forward, smashing down on a knee and then its hands.

Janella used lasers and LRMs to further savage the ’Mech. Missiles shattered yet more armor, then the ruby needles of her medium lasers stabbed into the myomer muscles providing the ’Mech’s strength. The corded fibers in the left arm parted with a snap, flicking little gobbets of artificial tissue into the air. The Black Hawk’s left arm crumpled, plowing its shoulder and head into the ground. Her attack left it struggling vainly to rise again.

Though clearly surprised by Isabel Siwek’s treachery, Catford reacted swiftly and brutally. He spun his Jupiter with an agility I’d not expected and extended both of his ’Mech’s arms toward Siwek’s Ryoken II. The pair of PPCs mounted on the left forearm crackled with artificial lightning. Their jagged cerulean beams slashed the squat ’Mech. One seared an ugly scar up through the left side of the body while the other danced lightning over the cockpit itself. Melting armor gushed in a torrent down to the ground, where it bubbled and smoked.

The quartet of autocannons on the Jupiter’s left forearm likewise proved terrifyingly efficient. Two chewed their way into the armor on the left arm and right thigh, leaving stippled trails of granulated armor behind. The other two, however, blasted into the cockpit, obliterating the canopy. Whether it was the hail of glass ripping her to shreds, or the heavy slugs pulping her human remains, Isabel Siwek died as ugly as the treachery she’d been a party to.

Bernard’s mercenaries again launched on Catford’s command. Missile fire pounded his Jupiter, but he didn’t go down. The Militia blasted back at the incoming vehicles in Siwek’s command. While they showed little coordination in their attack, fortune smiled and their attacks knocked out several of the hovertanks while they only lost one Demon Medium Tank.

With Siwek down, her company could have buckled, but being professionals they held it together and began to maneuver cautiously to close with their former allies. Catford’s Jupiter exploded a Condor, but took some laser and autocannon fire in return, then another salvo or two of missiles.

Janella’s Tundra Wolf laced a Scimitar’s right flank with laser fire. The green and red beams turned armor molten and opened a fiery hole into the crew compartment. That hovertank slew around to the side before both fans died. Its burning hulk marked a point past which none of Siwek’s other vehicles advanced.

This was good for the Militia, but not so good for us. The remaining Scimitar and three Condors began to maneuver to focus on us. I used more missiles to rake one of the Condor tanks. I got lucky and popped the left tread off the tank, which created more of a driving hazard for the others than any serious damage. As one spun to the left to avoid the stricken tank, it plowed into the downed Black Hawk’s right arm. Neither of them benefited from the collision. The Condor remained operational, but the one I’d hit slammed into it from behind, wedging it in place.