Forstchen, William R & Keith, Andrew Wing Commander Heart of the Tiger

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That is my fate, hovering over me . . . He looked at Blair. It is not a concept easily grasped by
non-Kilrathi. But it is all I understand.
Come on, Hobbes, Blair said, troubled by the glimpse Ralgha had given into his alien soul. Let s get
down to the flight line. That s all the future either of us can afford to worry about for now.
Command Hall, KIS Hvar kann Ariel System
Lord Prince, we have a report of enemy activity in the system. A convoy is under attack by Terran
fighters.
Thrakhath leaned forward in his chair to study Melek in the dull red light of the audience chamber. They
dare attack us here, in our space? Perhaps they did not learn their lesson at Locanda.
Melek bowed acknowledgement. You did say you expected them to respond, Lord Prince, he
pointed out. Intercepted radio traffic indicates that the Terran ships may be from the Victory.
So . . . Thrakhath turned the report over in his mind. This . . . complicates our response. I had not
looked for them to be ready for further operations for some time to come. We must drive them out . . .
and we must discourage them from looking toward this system any further. It would be an
embarrassment if they were to plan to demonstrate their new weapon here before the fleet was fully
assembled.
Yes, Lord Prince, Melek said, though it would be a worthy irony if they brought their weapon here
and fell into your trap.
Thrakhath gestured negation. No. No, I do not want to stage a major battle here. Not when the nebula
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effects make detection so difficult. When the Terrans reveal their doomsday weapon, and we learn its
secrets, I want no chance of mistakes when it comes time to destroy it. We must . . . urge them to take
an interest in some other system, not this one. He paused. So we must threaten their ship, but ultimately
allow it to escape with sufficient evidence that they should leave us alone here. Order the fleet to cover
the jump points to Locanda, Delius, and Caliban. And have all squadrons prepare to initiate the Masking
Effect.
Melek bowed again. As you direct, Lord Prince.
Thrakhath watched him leave. When he was alone, he allowed his fangs to show for an instant. It was
unfortunate that the Terrans must be allowed to win free in the end. He would have relished the
destruction of that carrier . . . but it carried the key to ultimate victory for the Empire, and nothing could
be allowed to interfere with that now.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Thunderbolt 300 Ariel System
Victory, Victory, this is Backstop Leader, Blair said, hoping he didn t sound as tired and discouraged
as he felt. Requesting landing clearance. Over.
Roger that, Leader, Rollins replied. Clearance is granted. Good job out there, Colonel You really
showed those cats a thing or two.
Blair went through the approach checklist by rote, his mind ranging back to the mission they just
completed in support of Flash and Vaquero. By the time he and Hobbes launched, Marshall and Chang
had already joined up with the two beleaguered pilots and extricated them from the fight with the Dralthi.
But Major Dillon not only insisted that he didn t really need support, he had actually been eager to seek
out the larger contact at the edge of their scanning range to try to score a real kill, a cap ship kill. Blair
barely arrived in time to keep Maniac from agreeing with the idea. Thereafter, they were dogged by
Kilrathi fighters but not pressed particularly hard. The most difficult mission problems were the ones
associated with reining in the two majors.
Vaquero s fighter incurred damage during the fighting and the pilot himself sounded shaky. He was
waved off Victory s flight deck three times before finally catching the tractors and making a successful
touchdown. This worried Blair even more than Dillon or Marshall. Lieutenant Lopez always struck him as
steady and reliable, but plainly he took more than just a physical pounding on the line this time.
Blair shook off his doubts and worries, forcing himself to concentrate on the final approach. He was the
last man inside, and by the time he clambered down the ladder from the cockpit, the others, except for
Hobbes, were heading for the ready room to give their after-action reports.
The Kilrathi pilot looked at him with a very human expression of concern on his alien visage. Are you
well, my friend? You seemed . . . distracted, near the end. By more than just the need to control our
more spirited comrades.
Just tired, Hobbes, Blair told him. Tired of bucking overeager jocks who still think this is all some
kind of big game. And tired of . . . everything.
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He wasn t sure Ralgha could understand his mood. They had accounted, among the six of them, for four
more Dralthi out there, but in the long run it was just another number to be totaled for the kill board. It
wouldn t matter a bit the next time they went into battle. There were always more Kilrathi to replace the
ones who died, and Blair was getting sick of having to kill and kill with never a sign that some day the
killing might stop.
It was good, though, to fly a combat mission again, Ralgha said, clearly misunderstanding the attitude
behind Blair s bitter words and tone. To take the battle to the enemy once more. I have missed the
chance to test my skills, since we started this mission.
Yeah, Blair said. Though he didn t share in the sentiment, he understood how the Kilrathi felt. Ralgha [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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