Blair's fighter leapt from the end of the launch tube into the void, building thrust as he steered toward the rest of Gold Squadron assembling beyond the stern of the Victory. It required all of his will to stay focused on his instruments, the sensor screen, and the battle ahead. He couldn't afford to let himself dwell on Angel.
"Thunderbolt three-zero-zero, under power," he reported. "Gold Squadron deployed and ready."
"You sure we shouldn't; let Whittaker's boys and girls give you a hand out there, Colonel?" The duty Flight Control Officer, Lieutenant Rashad, sounded worried.
"Keep them on stand-by, Lieutenant," Blair said. "I'll let you know if we need them."
It was the same problem encountered at Ariel. With the carrier heading for the jump point, too many fighters in space would only complicate their escape. Blair overruled the original call for a magnum launch, preferring to put out the eight fighters of Gold Squadron and hold the others in reserve in case they were needed. But he didn't intend to need them, not today. All the Terrans needed to do at the moment was keep the Kilrathi distracted until the carrier was ready to jump.
So far, the cats were cooperating quite nicely. Their fighters were maintaining a tight formation well out of range of the carrier's guns. None showed any desire to venture close enough to threaten the Terran vessel.
"Eight minutes," Rollins' voice informed them.
"What are they waiting for?" Flash complained.
"Maybe they're scared of you, kid," Maniac responded.
"Cut the chatter, people," Blair growled. He was feeling as impatient as Dillon. If only Thrakhath would put his fighter in Blair's crosshairs . . .
"Does the Heart of the Tiger hide among the other apes?" Thrakhath's mocking voice filled his helmet speakers. "And under the guns of his ship? The challenge was to meet in personal combat."
On his screens, he saw a Vaktoth accelerate away from the other Kilrathi ships, but it stayed well clear of Victory. For a moment Blair toyed with the idea of ordering the squadron to attack, but he knew the Kilrathi would he on their guard against such a move. The name of the game, for now at least, was to keep from letting a full-scale battle develop for as long as possible.
Thrakhath must have realized the same thing, for a few seconds later a pair of Vaktoth broke formation followed by two more. These streaked toward the carrier. Gold Squadron lay directly in their path.
"Here they come!" Cobra called. "Permission to engage?"
"Let them come to us," Blair ordered Wingmen, stick close to your partners."
The first two Vaktoth drove into the center of the Terran formation then rolled outward, opening fire with guns and missiles. Cobra and her wingman, Vaquero, went after the first one, while Maniac and Vagabond engaged the second. Blair watched the second pair of fighters and felt his pulse race. "Hobbes, you and Flash take the one on the left," he said. "Flint and I'll take the other guy."
"Understood," was Ralgha's reply. He still sounded distracted. Flash gave a whoop and kicked in his afterburners, racing to meet the oncoming fighter.
Blair couldn't spend any more time worrying about the others. The fourth Vaktoth was almost on them, concentrating fire against Flint's Thunderbolt. Blair turned sharply and accelerated, opening fire with his blasters, while Flint banked sharply left to try to keep her weakened port-side shields from taking any more damage.
The Vaktoth pilot was good. He maintained his fire on Flint, randomly altering vectors to dodge most of Blair's fire while he kept up the pressure on his original target. Blair gave a curse and locked a heat-seeker on the Vaktoth's tail, then followed the missile with his blasters, pouring out all the power his weapons system could muster. The shield collapsed, and blaster fire tore into the armor until the power cut out, recharging.
His opponent seemed to realize then that Blair represented too great a threat to ignore any longer. He started turning away from Flint to bring his weapons to bear and to cover his exposed rear, but as he turned, Flint took the opening without hesitation. Her blasters continued where Blair's ended, and a moment later the Vaktoth exploded in a thousand whirling fragments.
"Nice shooting, Lieutenant," Blair called. "Good to have you back on my wing."
"Its where I belong Colonel," she replied.
"Somebody get this bastard off me! Hobbes! Colonel!" Flash's voice was hoarse with panic. "I can't shake him!"
On his scanner, Blair saw Flash trying to break away from the Vaktoth he challenged, but the enemy pilot was right on his tail. Hobbes was closing in, but slowly, cautiously, as if the Kilrathi renegade was afraid of getting too close to the dogfighting pair. Blair banked the Thunderbolt, increasing his speed, but he knew he wouldn't be able to reach Flash in time to do any good.
Hobbes took up a position behind the enemy fighter and opened fire, but his first shots went wild. The Vaktoth unleashed another attack. This time a deadly hail of energy bolts and missiles rained on Flash's ship as the young pilot tried to turn out of the Vaktoth's line of fire.
He was too late. Blair heard him scream as a fireball consumed his craft.
Once again Hobbes fired, but this time his opponent rolled sideways and accelerated back toward the rest of the Kilrathi formation. More Vaktoth were on their way.
"Five minutes to Jump Sequence start," Rollins announced. "Captain wants to know if we should launch additional fighters?"
"Negative," Blair grated. His sensors showed that the other two Vaktoth from the first flight had both been destroyed. The Terran fighters were regrouping again, ready to meet the next threat. "Hobbes, without a wingman you'll be a sitting duck. Retreat to the carrier and land."
"I should remain, my friend."
For a moment Blair considered having the Kilrathi switch positions with one of the other pilots, someone less steady, less reliable. Flint, or Vaquero, or perhaps Maniac. But the way Hobbes had been handling himself today, he was no more reliable than any of them. Even Marshall seemed to have himself under control, but Ralgha was plainly off his game. And Flash had paid the price. "No, Hobbes. Pack it in. That's an order."
"As you command." Ralgha's Thunderbolt broke away and headed toward the carrier. Now there were only six Terran fighters to face the next wave of Kilrathi.
This time four Imperial craft came at once, holding a tight formation all the way. Blair waited until they were just outside of weapons range before ordering Gold Squadron to turn from the oncoming Vaktoth and go to afterburners. The Kilrathi gave chase.
"Maintain course," Blair said quietly. It was almost a mantra. "Maintain course . . . Break! Break and attack! Victory, pour it on!"
The Terran fighters split up, each pair of wingmen peeling off in a different direction and looping back toward the pursuing Kilrathi. At the same time, Victory's defensive batteries opened fire, filling the void with searing bursts of raw energy. A pair of hits took out one of the enemy ships in the blink of an eye, and another suffered heavy damage as it tried to dodge the carrier's beams and pursue Cobra. Vaquero, on her wing, finished the attacker off with a well-placed missile.
Maniac dove straight towards his target, all guns blazing, passing bare meters away from his opponent before the Kilrathi pilot could even react. Slowly, carefully, Vagabond trailed him, and his blasters exploited the weakened shields to burn through the fighter's cockpit and kill the pilot. The Vaktoth plunged on, uncontrolled, until Victory destroyed it a few seconds later.