"No, sir," Blair said curtly.

"Is that the Wing Commander talking . . . or a man who's looking for revenge?"

"Both, sir," Blair answered. He was silent for a moment before going on. "Look, Captain, I won't pretend. . . that bastard got me where I live, using Angel like that. He's trying to goad me into doing something stupid. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to oblige him . . . bad. Real bad. But in this case, playing along with his little game is our best option. As long as Thrakhath figures I'm going to take him up on his challenge, the rest of his fighters will hold back. Nobody's going to get into the middle of the Crown Prince's blood feud."

"I don't like it," Eisen said. "I've never thought this Thrakhath was very well-equipped in the honor department, however much the cats make of it. What do you say, Colonel Ralgha? You know more about the Prince than any of us."

Hobbes was slow to answer, and when he did his voice sounded blurred, distant. "I could not . . . say for sure. The message was intended to . . . provoke a response. But the challenge could well be legitimate. If Colonel Blair has been honored with his own warrior's name then the Prince must consider him to be important somehow."

Blair's voice betrayed a sudden concern. "You all right, buddy? What's wrong?"

"A . . . headache," Hobbes said slowly. "Some of the higher-pitched harmonics in the message were . . . grating. "He paused. "And, of course, I mourn for Colonel Devereaux. She was a brave warrior. And a friend."

"That she was," Blair said. "Captain, what about it? Do we get out there and buy you some time?"

"I don't like it, Blair. But I don't have a whole lot of options." Eisen paused as the Sensor Officer displayed new data on the main bridge monitor. "We definitely have a launch in progress from the Kilrathi flagship. So far they're still forming up. No way to tell if they plan to press something, or if they're just threatening. Looks like . . . at least a squadron already. More likely two, if they're still launching."

"Then we'd better get out there," Blair said. He cut the connection without awaiting a reply.

Eisen leaned forward in his chair. "God go with you, Colonel," he said softly.

"Lord Prince, surely you do not need to take personal command today. The cockpit of a fighter is no place for the Imperial Heir when the battle is so insignificant."

Thrakhath paused halfway up the ladder to the cockpit of his Bloodfang and turned to glare his contempt down on Melek. "I have issued the challenge. Would you have me hold back now, in front of our warriors?"

"No, Lord Prince. . ." Melek trailed off, looking uncomfortable. "But if something was to happen to you now, with triumph so close under our talons, we would lose everything we have worked to achieve. The personal challenge was a risk you did not need to take. Others would have willingly taken on the Heart of the Tiger for you."

"No! We want to cut this ape out of his troop, and for that he must be goaded beyond all reason. I killed his lair-mate. He will not turn back from the chance to kill me in return. And then . . . we have him."

"He is a skilled pilot, Lord Prince," Melek warned.

"I know it well." Thrakhath showed his fangs. "I am not a fool, Melek. Honor requires me to be present for the challenge, but it doesn't require me to sacrifice myself. My escorts will intervene if the need arises. But the important thing is to eliminate this Colonel Blair now so that he does not stand in the way of our plans for the Behemoth Go now. You command in my absence. Let the hunt begin!"

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.