The others made similar reports, with damage ranging from Cobra's very minor hits up to Flash, who had suffered serious damage in the fight with the destroyer and was now running with damaged engines and an intermittent fault in his sensors. Blair frowned as he considered the situation. The squadron couldn't do a whole lot more at this point. But they had no idea what else the Kilrathi might throw at them.

"Jump point is on our screens," Rollins reported suddenly. "Looks like we got lucky this time!"

"What about enemy activity?" Blair asked, still frowning. "Anything on your sensors?"

"Looks like another cat destroyer out there, Colonel but at extreme sensor range, Rollins reported after a moments pause. "From his current vector, it doesn't look like he'll be in any position to interfere with us. Captain says to bring your birds back to the nest, sir You're clear to land . . . and . . . you guys sure did a good job holding off those sons-of-bitches."

"Thank God for small favors," Blair muttered. "All right Gold Squadron. Let's pack it in. And pray we don't get any new surprises before we hit the jump point."

Blair climbed slowly from his cockpit, tired and stiff after the long strain of flying. He hadn't realized his personal toll from the operation until now. With the mission over, all he wanted to do was take a long shower, then catch a few hundred hours of sack time.

Unfortunately, that wasn't how it worked. Before seeing his bunk again, Blair knew there was a load of work to finish first.

ALL HANDS, ALL HANDS, JUMP STATIONS. REPEAT, JUMP STATIONS. INTERSTELLAR TRANSIT IN THREE MINUTES. The computer announcement blared over the ship's tannoy, and all around Blair techs hastened to get ready for the jump, like so many ants stirred up by a threat to their hill.

"You sure did bang the old girl up this time, skipper," Rachel Coriolis said from behind him. He turned to see her pointing at the twisted armor and scorched hull plating where the destroyer's gun had pierced his shields. "Better get clear, sir, before the jump."

He nodded, then turned toward the far end of the hangar. Safety precautions called for the hangar deck to be cleared prior to any jump, and already the huge chamber was nearly empty of crewmen. Blair strode rapidly across the deck with Rachel, a few stragglers close behind

The doors snapped open to reveal a tense scene in the corridor beside the elevator. A number of pilots and technicians were present, but the main focus was on Cobra and Hobbes, standing face to face in the middle of the passageway. Lieutenant Buckley had an angry expression on her face, and her hands were flexing as if she, like the Kilrathi, had claws that could tear at her enemies' throats. In contrast, Ralgha nar Hhallas was calm, impassive, a stoic figure facing Cobra's venom.

"Why didn't you warn us that your kind could close jump points?" she demanded, her voice low and menacing.

"I was not aware that they could," Ralgha told her. "This is obviously a recently developed advancement to Kilrathi technology. And a very serious threat. The ability to close down a jump point will give the Empire a great advantage, I fear."

"Come off it, you fur-faced son-of-a-bitch," Cobra snarled. "You mean to tell us you didn't know anything about this? I don't believe you!"

"I have been in Confederation service for over a decade, Lieutenant," the Kilrathi told her, drawing himself up with an air of quiet dignity. "Much has changed during that time, on both sides of the border. Perhaps this represents a breakthrough in jump theory."

"More likely in cloaking technology," Rachel said, stepping between them. "I don't think the Kilrathi can actually shut down a jump point at all."

"Hey, I wasn't hallucinating out there," Cobra said, turning her angry glare on the technician. "We all saw the first jump point drop right off our screens."

"Look, I've been studying cloaks," Rachel said. "The new Excaliburs are supposed to mount them. In theory a big enough generator could project a cloak that could mask out something as large as a jump point. But it would only work in a nebula, and it would be damned hard to maintain even then. That's what we were facing. I'd bet hard credits on it.

"Well, whether they can kill it or just hide it, the cats can mess up our jump points," Cobra said, a little less wild but still clearly angry. She stepped past Rachel and jabbed a finger at Hobbes. "And you claim you had no clue they could pull that?"

"No more than you, Lieutenant," Ralgha told her.

"You're a liar."

Blair stepped forward, thrusting himself between the two pilots. "That will be enough, Lieutenant," he said harshly. "Colonel Ralgha's loyalty is not to be questioned in this way again. Is that understood?"

"But. . ."

"I will not have a junior officer making wild accusations about one of her seniors. If you gather concrete evidence to back up your claims, then you see me, in private, through proper channels. Otherwise, you keep your mouth shut!"

"Yes, sir, she said at last.

"JUMP SEQUENCE ENGAGED. ONE MINUTE TO JUMP," the loudspeaker announced.

The elevator doors opened, and Cobra pushed through the semi-circle of onlookers into the car. Neither Blair nor Hobbes chose to follow her.

"And ten seconds . . . nine . . . eight . . ."

Eisen was determined not to betray his mounting tension as the computer ticked off the final seconds of the countdown to jump. What if the Kilrathi really could shut down a jump point? If they cut this one now, Victory would be trapped and totally vulnerable to the destroyers that were beginning to close in.

Or . . . what would happen to a ship initiating a jump sequence if the jump point failed? Would it remain in place . . . or end up trapped in hyperspace, unable to complete the transition to its destination?

"Three . . . two . . . and one . . . initiating transit. . . now."

He felt the familiar gut-twisting sensation of transit, and despite the nausea, muscle spasms, and the wrenching disorientation of the jump, Eisen was relieved. At least Victory had escaped the cats, whatever happened next . . .

The jump was over in an instant. Eisen had to blink and shake his head a time or two to clear the fog in his brain, but it didn't take long to regain control over his body, though every nerve was still protesting over the unnatural act of being flung across an unimaginable distance through a realm no human was ever supposed to enter.

"Report," he croaked.

Lieutenant Commander Lisa Morgan, Victory's Navigator, managed to sound alert. "Aye, aye, sir," she said, her fingers moving over her controls to call up a computer program that would analyze their surroundings and confirm that they had emerged on target. After a moment she went on. "Stellar type and data match within 99. 4 percent. No planets registering. Asteroid belts . . . it checks, Captain. Delius System . . . or its twin."

Eisen nodded slowly. "Very good. Commander Morgan, set course to Delius Station. Mr. Rollins, raise the local defense forces and let them know we're here. Secure from Jump Stations and resume in-system operations." He paused. "I want the ship combat-ready as soon as possible. After that, I want a full after-action analysis by all combat departments. We have to determine what the hell went on back there, before the cats pull it on us again."

His officers responded promptly, and Eisen felt a glow of pride. They'd been close to the breaking point, but somehow they'd kept on going.