Fairfax cleared his throat. "I've reviewed the data downloaded from HQ on the Hermes survey mission. Loki Six is a fairly minor Kilrathi outpost. Not likely to be heavily defended. In fact, it's only apparent purpose is to serve as a sort of advanced base for raiders passing through the Ariel System." He looked doubtful. "I'm not sure what kind of a message we'll send the Kilrathi by destroying the outpost. A larger facility would have been better. The Empire may not take the hint if all they lose is a second-rate base."

Tolwyn gave him a stern look. "If Loki doesn't give them the right message, we'll give them something bigger to think about." He shot Blair a glance. "We have to take this one step at a time, gentlemen. But one way or another, Behemoth is going to end this war."

On the map table, the schematics of the weapons platform were replaced by a chart of the Loki System. "We will proceed from the jump point to here . . . Loki Eight, a gas giant. Behemoth will require fuel, which we can skim from the gas giant's atmosphere. Then we will move to this position, near Loki Six, and begin the firing sequence. Throughout the operation, gentlemen, we will be accompanied by a small escort squadron, three destroyers. They will be used for advanced scouting, and as general support vessels. But Victory and her fighters will have the primary responsibility of providing close support to Behemoth. I want you to be clear on this. The mission stands or falls on this ship's ability to protect that weapon." Tolwyn's look was challenging. "Any questions?"

There were none, and Tolwyn turned his intense gaze on Hobbes. "Colonel Ralgha, I would like you to work with Commander Fairfax and my staff over the next several days. You're the closest thing we have to a genuine expert on the Kilrathi mind. I'd like you to help us develop some likely models of how the Empire will react. To the destruction of Loki Six, and to other measures we may be forced to take if that doesn't bring them to the peace table."

Hobbes inclined his head. "As you wish, Admiral," he rumbled. "I warn you, though, that I cannot predict the reactions of my . . . former comrades . . . with any degree of certainty. Anything I suggest will necessarily be . . . imperfect at best."

"It will do, Colonel. It will do." Tolwyn glanced around the room again, then nodded crisply. "Very well. That's an overview of the situation. You'll each be receiving detailed orders as needed. In the meantime, you're dismissed.

Blair took a last look at Tolwyn before he left The admiral was studying the map of the Loki system intently, the expression on his face one of anticipation and undisguised eagerness. He wasn't sure he cared for the look in the man s eyes. It promised victory or death with no middle ground, and no room to adapt to circumstances.

"Okay," Blair said into the microphone. "That's it. End simulation."

Kevin Tolwyn looked at him from the adjacent console. "Not bad. Not bad at all. Your boys and girls are pretty damned good, Colonel."

"It could've been better," Blair grumbled. He switched on the mike again. "Cobra, Vagabond, if that had been the real thing there would have been a fifty-fifty chance of that Vaktoth slipping past you and getting off a shot at the Behemoth. You were lucky the computer called it the way it did, but you're going to have to tighten up next time, okay? The defensive specs are in the tactical database. Study them. We can't afford to leave those weak spots uncovered."

"You want us to run through it again?" Vagabond asked.

"Not now," Blair told him. "We'll run another set tomorrow morning, after the new point-defense squadron is on board. For now, get some rest. And study that database. Now. . . dismissed."

You're starting to sound like my uncle," Tolwyn said with a grin. "Don't tell me you've become a convert."

"Hardly. Matter of fact, I have a feeling you've been holding out on me, Kevin. The admiral as much as admitted he's planning to take that monstrosity to Kilrah, one way or another. I don't think he'd stop if the Emperor himself offered to sign peace terms . . . with Thrakhath's blood for the ink!"

Tolwyn shrugged. "I told you everything I know, Maverick. But you know the admiral. He wouldn't tell his left hand what his right hand was doing if he thought it would get him a tactical advantage."

"Yeah . . ." Blair trailed off. He looked hard into Tolwyn's eyes. "What do you think, Kevin? Really? Should we blow Kilrah while we have the chance?"

"I don't know, Maverick, and that's a fact." Tolwyn looked down. "After what you said the last time, I started doubting the whole project. At the Academy they taught us we were serving a higher purpose, and a weapon this devastating . . . But what if the Intell reports are right? What if we're on the verge of losing everything? If it's us or them . . ." He met Blair's eyes again. "Don't tell me you've changed your mind."

Blair shook his head. "Not . . . changed. But nothing's as clear as it was before. Angel died out there, and Thrakhath's the one who killed her. In front of a damned screaming audience of . . . barbarians. Part of me would like to wipe them all out, Kevin. But another part of me says it's wrong." He paused. "I'm glad it's the admiral who has to pull the trigger on that thing. I'm not sure I could do that. And if I did, I would never know if I did it to save the Confederation, or to even the score over Angel."

Tolwyn nodded slowly. "Yeah. And could you live with yourself afterward, whichever course you took?"

The intruder entered the compartment silently, moving with complete confidence among the consoles and computer banks in the darkened room. Seen through a bully night vision device, the room glowed with an eerie greenish light. Normally, no one stood a watch in the Communications center except when the ship was at General Quarters, and the intruder was confident that no one would notice this stealthy foray.

Gauntleted hands fumbled for a moment with the controls on one of the consoles. The panel came to life. On a monitor screen, bright letters glowed as the computer responded to the intruder's commands.

ENTER IDENTIFICATION AND SECURITY CODES.

The intruder tapped the keypad awkwardly. Voice command would have been easier under the circumstances, but it was more difficult to cover one's tracks afterward with a voice record . . .

IDENTITY AND SECURITY CODE ACCEPTED. PLEASE INDICATE DESIRED FUNCTION.

It took a moment to identify the proper selection and key it in. Another console came to life across the room.

TIGHT-BEAM LASER LINK ON-LINE. INPUT LINK COORDINATES.

Consulting a personal data pad for the required information, the intruder entered a short alphanumeric string through the keyboard. A green light glowed beside the monitor as the computer's reply appeared.

COORDINATES ACCEPTED. READY TO TRANSMIT.

The intruder slid a tiny cartridge into the chip receptacle below the monitor, then keyed in another command. The computer responded.

DATA ON-LINE. TRANSMITTING AT 100:1.

The monitor showed a dizzying succession of images, external views and schematics of the Behemoth platform. Seconds later, a new message flashed on the screen.

TRANSMISSION COMPLETED. FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS?

The intruder paused a moment, then entered another command. Once again the computer was quick to flash an answering message on the monitor.