"He took Cobra's fighter," she said. "Launched with Vaquero a few minutes ago. He must have had a tape of her voice to answer the radio check."

Flint appeared at the mouth of the bay, running. She pulled up short at the sight of Cobra, then fixed her eyes on Blair. "Prowler One just broke off the patrol route," she said, breathing hard. "Fired on Vaquero when he tried to intercept." She paused. "The fighter's heading for the Freya jump point, maximum speed Vaquero's pursuing.

Blair looked at Paladin. "Even without that holo, Hobbes can tell them about the plan. About the caches . . ."

Taggart nodded. "If he makes it through the jump point, it's all over, lad," he said.

"Not yet, it isn't," Blair said. He looked at Rachel. Which of the Excaliburs is prepped for Alert Five?"

"Three-oh-four," she said "Maniac's bird."

"Get it on the line now. And get me a flight suit." He turned to Flint. "You get to Flight Control. Order Vaquero to keep up the chase. Stop that bastard at all costs, or at least slow him down until I get there."

He looked back down at Cobra, and had to blink back tears of grief and rage. "You were right," he said through clenched teeth. "It was Hobbes . . ."

Blair turned away and started toward Maniac's fighter, grim and determined. Hobbes had betrayed them . . . and now the renegade had to be stopped before he destroyed everything.

"Victory, Victory, I need help out here! He s flying rings around me!"

Blair muttered a curse under his breath. Even with the Excalibur's superior acceleration, it would take three more minutes to overtake Vaquero and Hobbes. The Latino pilot had managed to engage Ralgha and keep him busy, but it was an uneven match. Hobbes had always been a good pilot, but Blair had never expected to see him matched against one of his own comrades.

On his sensor screen, he saw Hobbes making a long slow loop, circling back toward Lopez. Vaquero had already taken damage to his engines, and was having trouble matching the Kilrathi's maneuvers.

"He's coming in again . . ." Lopez said. "Firing . . ."

A smaller blip showed up on the sensors. Vaquero launched a missile. It must have been a fire-and-forget model, judging from the way it bobbed and weaved in pursuit of Ralgha's fighter. Hobbes tried to dodge it, but it caught him across the port-side shield. Lopez let out a whoop and dove. Blair could almost see his blasters pouring on the fire.

"All right!" Lopez shouted. "That one's for Cobra! Get ready to say good-bye, Hobbes."

"Not today, I'm afraid," Ralgha replied evenly. The Kilrathi's fighter released a barrage of missiles. They struck in quick succession.

"Cristos . . . I'm breaking up!" Vaquero called. "Adios, amigos . . .

And then he was gone.

"God damn you," Blair growled. "God damn you to hell."

"Is that you. . . old friend?" Hobbes asked. For a moment, he sounded like Blair's old wingman, worried, ready to help. "It would be wisest if you turned back, Colonel. Before I am forced to deal with you as well."

"Deal with this . . . old friend!" Blair shouted. Ralgha's Excalibur was just coming into extreme range, and Blair let loose a volley of blaster fire. But Hobbes anticipated it, and the shots only grazed his shields.

Ralgha turned away, as if to run. Blair's hands clenched on the steering yoke. If Hobbes decided to use his cloak, he might still get away . . .

But a cloak used a lot of power, and that would slow him down. Too much of a delay would give Victory time enough to get more fighters into the area and since Hobbes could only be heading for the Freya jump point to warn the Kilrathi fleet, it wouldn't be that difficult to find him.

Ralgha suddenly rolled up and back, a classic Immelman maneuver that almost took Blair by surprise. He cursed again as he dodged the Kilrathi's fire. He of all people should have anticipated Ralgha's moves. But he wasn't flying quite the way he usually did. There was something different in his style, more reckless, more aggressive. More like the Kilrathi Blair usually met in battle.

As Hobbes sped past, Blair checked his sensor readouts on the other Excalibur. Vaquero had penetrated the armor, all right. If the port shield went down, Ralgha would be vulnerable, and he was sure to be sensitive to that weakness. Hobbes had used all of his missiles to knock out Lopez, giving Blair a significant advantage.

The Kilrathi started to swing around as Blair turned to follow him. He let Hobbes finish his turn, then suddenly opened up his afterburners for a charge right at the other fighter, a move he was sure Hobbes would never expect from him. Blaster fire raked across his forward shields, but he ignored it, even when the shield generator alarm went off. His shields were going down . . .

Ralgha stopped firing, his weapons on recharge. The Kilrathi swerved sharply away, trying to keep his port side out of Blair's line of fire. The two fighters were close together now, and Blair had to kill his momentum quickly to keep from shooting right past Hobbes.

The Terran allowed himself a grim smile and locked on a pair of heat-seekers. As Ralgha finished his turn and exposed his tail, Blair let the missiles go and opened up with every beam weapon he possessed.

"Impressive, my friend," Hobbes said as the barrage struck home. "Impressive . . . I fear that you have bested me . . . Now I shall never see Kilrah again."

The missiles detonated almost simultaneously as the Excalibur's rear shields went down. The fighter came apart.

Blair thought he heard Hobbes call out his name before the fireball consumed his craft.

"Excalibur three-o-four," he said, his voice sounding dead in his own ears. He couldn't feel anything, either sadness or satisfaction, at the knowledge that Ralgha was gone. "Hobbes . . . is gone. I'm coming in."

Blair punched in a security code to unlock the door and stepped quickly inside. He was glad there had been no one in the corridor to see him, to ask questions, or to offer comments. He didn't think he could face anyone just now, especially not here, in the quarters that had belonged to Ralgha nar Hhallas. The door slid shut behind him and the lights came on automatically. They were set to the dim reddish hue Hobbes favored, a reminder of Kilrah's K6 star.

A reminder of Ralgha's home . . .

Ralgha . . . Hobbes . . . It surprised Blair to realize how deep this wound went, deeper even than Angel's death. He had known Ralgha nar Hhallas, flown with him, loved him like a brother over the better part of fifteen long years. When others had raised doubts, he had been firm in his faith in Hobbes, the one being Blair would have trusted to the bitter end. . . and beyond. Yet Hobbes betrayed him, betrayed them all. And the knowledge of that betrayal hurt as nothing Blair had ever felt.

He turned to check the cabin control keypad beside the door, punching for Terra-normal lights and lower heat and humidity than Ralgha had preferred. The changes helped him push away the bitter thoughts of Hobbes, but not far enough for any real peace of mind.

No doubt Paladin would want Ralgha's effects searched with a fine-tooth comb in hopes of finding clues about the Kilrathi's treachery. Blair didn't plan to disturb anything that might interest Covert Ops. But it was one of his duties, as wing commander, to deal with the personal property of any pilot who died while under his command, and much as he wanted to delegate it, this was one duty Blair felt he had to see to himself. He could at least take a quick inventory of Ralgha's property, though he had no idea where it would go when Paladin was through with it. Usually personal effects were returned to the family, but what family did Hobbes leave?