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command. Today Thrakhath upheld that tradition yet again.
My Lord Prince. Khantahr Baron Vurrig nar Tsahl dropped to one knee. The
other officer, hands in manacles, sank awkwardly to both knees beside the noble.
Sar hrai is at your command, as ever.
Indeed? Thrakhath fixed the Baron with an icy stare. I wanted the jump
point from Orsini cut, and the Terran carrier damaged beyond capability to
interfere with Operation Unseen Death. But the blockade was only partially
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effective and the attack on the carrier was repulsed without touching the ape
ship. Is that a fair assessment of your performance?
Lord Prince . . . Vurrig quailed under his stare. Lord Prince, there were
many . . . complications, especially due to the renegade. We could not press home
attacks against ships he escorted without risking a breach of your orders . . .
This one did, or so your report claimed.
Yes, Lord Prince. This is Flight Commander Arrak. He engaged the traitor in
battle despite my specific orders to the contrary.
But Ralgha was not harmed?
No, Lord Prince.
So, Arrak, you are inept as well as insubordinate, is that it?
Arrak met Thrakhath s stare with unexpected spirit. In battle, Lord Prince, it
is not always so easy to set conditions, he said defiantly.
Thrakhath felt a stir of admiration. The flight commander knew he was
doomed for his disobedience, so he met his fate with a warrior s pride. Baron
Vurrig on the other hand, danced and dodged like prey on the run from the
hunter.
Let Arrak have a warrior s death. He may fight any champion or champions
who wish the honor of dispatching him. Thrakhath noted Arrak s nod. He was
proud to the bitter end. As for you, Baron . . . because of you we must push back
the timetable for Operation Unseen Death. We must await additional ships so
that we may ensure the Terrans not intervening when we launch our strike. You
will be relieved as commander of Sar hrai . . . and suffer the penalty for your
incompetence. Death . . . by isolation. The coward s end, alone, ignored, cut off
until you die from thirst, starvation, or madness. See to it, Melek.
Lord Prince × Vurrig began. He was grabbed by the guardsmen and dragged
away, his appeals for mercy echoing hollowly in the chamber.
I regret the failure, Lord Prince, Melek said quietly, but at least the
renegade came to no harm.
We must hope that the War God continues to smile on us, Melek, Thrakhath
said coldly. The time is not yet ripe to deal with Lord Ralgha . . . but it is coming.
As is the day of our final victory.
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CHAPTER EIGHT
Captain s Ready Room. TCS Victory Tamayo System
According to Chief Coriolis, the last of the battle damage should be repaired
by this afternoon, Blair concluded. So the wing will be up and running . . .
except for the ships we lost.
Good job, Colonel, Eisen said. I d say three days is a pretty good turn-
around time, considering the way your fighters looked when they touched down.
Give my compliments to the Chief for a job well done by her techs.
Yes, sir. They did a fine job. Blair paused, then cleared his throat. About the
losses . . .
We ve already taken care of the situation, Eisen told him. Mr. Rollins?
The Communications Officer consulted his portable computer terminal. No
problem at all on the Hellcats, sir, he said. The CO at Tamayo Base called for
volunteers from the point defense squadron stationed there. They ll be aboard
first thing tomorrow.
Fast work, Lieutenant, Blair commented.
The commander was pleased with the support he s been getting from the
Navy. He was eager to help. Rollins frowned. I m not so sure about Mad Max s
replacement.
What s the problem, Lieutenant? Eisen asked.
There s a home defense squadron on Tamayo that flies Thunderbolts, sir,
Rollins said slowly. Strictly reservists, mostly rich kids who figured it was a good
dodge to avoid active military service and still get to wear a pretty uniform and
boast about being hot fighter pilots. The squadron was activated into Confed
service when the cats moved into the system.
Well, we ve had green pilots before, Eisen said. I dare say the Colonel can
break in one of these kids fast enough. Or are they being sticky about transferring
someone?
Oh, they re willing to give us a pilot and his fighter, sir, Rollins said. A little
too willing, the way I see it. I think they re planning on handing us one of their
discipline problems.
Eisen shrugged. Hardly unusual. We ll just have to ride him until he snaps to
attention. Right, Colonel?
Or ground him and find another qualified pilot, Blair said, nodding. What
makes you think he s going to be a problem, Lieutenant?
Hey, I told you, Colonel, he responded with a grin. Radio Rollins always has
his ear to the ground. One of my . . . sources at Tamayo Base was warned by the
Home Defense boys that they were looking for a place to dump this guy. I just
gotta wonder though, what kind of a screwup gets thrown out of an HD
squadron? Know what I mean?
As long as he can fly and he s got a Thunderbolt, I can use him in Gold
Squadron, Blair said. He can t be any more difficult to handle than Maniac
Marshall.
I hope you and Major Marshall can work out your little . . . problem,
Colonel, Eisen said quietly. I don t like to have this kind of conflict between two
senior officers. Marshall s record is impressive, even if it s not quite as
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outstanding as yours. I m not sure I understand why the two of you have such
difficulties with each other.
Part of it s purely personal, Captain, Blair said. We ve been competing
against each other since the day we met. At least he s been competing with me.
He smiled. I, of course, am blameless in the whole thing.
Of course, Eisen said blandly. Rollins chuckled.
But I do my best to keep the personal problems and the cockpit apart,
Captain, Blair went on seriously. I mean, you don t have to like a guy to serve
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