"They still have fight left in them. Remember, Prince Thrakhath, the new fleet is to serve two purposes: one to win this war, and second to prepare us for the Mantu if they should ever return. You are now gambling that fleet in your drive for vengeance on the humans."

"Not vengeance, extinction."

Sickened, the Baron turned away. He knew now that the accusations were right. Study one's enemy for too long and in the end you might come to admire them. He did not admire the humans, the very essence of his nature prevented that, but he could acknowledge them as something more than mere prey to be slaughtered. His plan, if it had been allowed to be played out, might very well have resulted in a near bloodless victory, a Confederation completely divided, lulled by peace, and then psychologically overwhelmed when the dozen new carriers appeared. It all suddenly became very clear.

"You allowed that recon ship of the humans to slip into Hari space and then allowed it to escape. You wanted the peace ended, didn't you?"

"In spite of your claims of intellect, Baron, you are often rather slow at figuring things out."

"You wanted this war to end in a blood bath. You were the one who triggered the bomb in the human headquarters.

Prince Thrakhath smiled.

"You were never a prisoner of the humans. I was. You have not lost comrades to them, I have. I shall rise to the Imperial Throne, hailed as the conqueror of the humans and winner of this war, while as for you . . ." and he leaned over, touching a button on his console.

The doors to his wardroom were flung open and four Imperial Marine guards stepped in.

"Escort the Baron to his quarters and make sure he is very comfortable."

"Are you arresting me?"

Prince Thrakhath shook his head.

"Let us say that there are certain questions to be asked of you later, once the battles are completed and I am secure in my victory."

Baron Jukaga smiled coldly.

"Don't underestimate Tolwyn and his people. They are not finished yet."

"They soon will be, Baron," and he laughed coldly as Jukaga was lead from the room.

"How are you, Geoff?"

Geoff looked up in surprise as "Big" Duke Grecko walked into his private quarters.

Geoff started to get up from his cot and Duke motioned for him to relax while he pulled a chair around and sat down across from Tolwyn.

"What the hell are you doing out here, Duke?"

"Can't keep the Marines in port when the action starts. I'm not interfering out here, Geoff, but I thought I should come out and have a look."

"You got the after action report then?"

Duke nodded glumly.

"It was relayed up to my frigate a couple of hours ago."

"I screwed up, Duke. I should have fallen back from Sirius and then held here with Saratoga joined in for the strike."

"You couldn't abandon Sirius without a fight. Civilian morale would have gone off the deep end."

"So we lose two carriers and still lose Sirius."

"At least you bloodied them."

"One old carrier destroyed, one damaged and one of their new carriers reported heavily damaged, but no kills on the new fleet. Which is what I wanted.

"We're reporting that big carrier as dead for now," Duke said quietly.

"I never liked doing that."

"Sometimes we have to, and for all practical purposes it is dead at the moment."

"So what do you want, Duke?" Geoff asked, cutting straight to the point.

"I'm ordering you to fall back on Earth."

"What? Hell, Duke, if they break our line there they'll fry Earth in a matter of minutes.

"I know, but we've been busy. By the time you pull back, Lexington and Ark Royal will be on line."

"How? The jump engines on Lex and Ark Royal were fully out for realignment, and core reactors had been dumped."

"If we're fighting inside the home system we won't need jump engines and both ships have one reactor back up and running."

"They'll be sitting ducks."

"They'd be sitting ducks in the dockyard anyhow. At least they can still launch fighters."

Though neither one said it, they both knew as well that the two additional carriers would serve as targets, forcing the Kilrathi to spread out their attack.

"Mars is the closest planet in towards the jump line," Duke continued. "We've packed every landing field there full of every damn fighter, trainer, and even civilian light craft."

"You've got to be kidding. I stripped out every good plane and pilot before I left. Put what's left into space and they'll die like flies."

Duke nodded.

"And the Kilrathi will burn up ammunition while some of our people still get in for another strike."

He knew it was better than a desperate stand out here with no hope of winning. If he stood now, it'd only delay the inevitable by maybe a day or two at most.

"Our psych analysis people tell me that even if you abandon this key jump point, Thrakhath will not spread out into the inner worlds until he completes his kill of you and Earth. The bastard hates your guts, according to psych, for too many humiliations. He wants your hide almost as much as he wants Earth. He'll follow you straight in."

"You know, Duke," Geoff said quietly, "even with the additional material and manpower, they still have us. You saw what happened to my last strike, and those boys were the finest pilots in the fleet."

"I know, Geoff, I know. But there's one more idea I sort of cooked up on my own, that might help things out."

"What?"

And as Duke told him, Admiral Tolwyn came to his feet.

"You're mad, Duke, that's senseless murder. You're bloody mad to even think of it."

"And that's why it might work," Duke said with a cold smile.

"My lord Thrakhath."

He turned to look at a holo display of his bridge captain.

"The latest report, sire."

"Go on."

"The human fleet is turning about, retreating back towards Earth."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, my lord."

That caught him slightly off guard. He had thought that Tolwyn would make his final stand here. One system past Sirius, eight jump lines diverged outward into the inner worlds of the Confederation and also back outwards towards the frontier. Control of the next system would be a major victory in and of itself. Yet he was abandoning it now without a fight. Damn him.

"Latest intelligence report?"

"Three carriers still confirmed with their Third Fleet. Intelligence is still working on their latest code but we have picked up a civilian channel reporting that a carrier left its Earth base six hours ago, and that a second carrier is moving up to join the fleet. The signal was from one of their news stations and its coding simple to break."

"The stupid fools."

"Our latest damage report?"

"Tarvakh is still contending with internal fires, all three forward launch bays are closed. Yu'ba'tuk's main shield generator is still off line and one launch bay closed."

"Secondary shielding?"

"At ninety-one percent, expected to upgrade to ninety— three within the hour."

"Fighter losses?"

"Heavy, sire. Seven eight-of-eights and two eights today. Eight eight-of-eights and five eights total."

Not good at all . The Empire could invest all it wanted on new carriers that were next to indestructible, but at the core, it still came down to having fighters that were equal to or better than the latest Confederation designs, and pilots who were trained to fly them. It had always been the weak edge. Except for the handful of Stealth fighters possessed by the Empire, fighter design and pilot training had never fully kept up with that of the humans. The emergencies of the last two years had forced them to repeatedly reach into the academies and throw half-trained cadets into action — where most of them died within a matter of days. The survivors were tough, but there were always too few.