them. There is no comfort in doubting the wisdom of generations.'
Blair and Hobbes were both summoned to the captain's ready room before even exchanging their flight suits for more comfortable clothing. Eisen looked worried as he sat opposite them. He energized the holographic chart display on his desk top.
'I know you just got back from a tough one, but I doubt you'll have much chance to rest up,' the captain told them without preamble. 'We're on course for the jump point to the Caliban System. It has the closest Confed military facility, although it's a small one, just an outpost. The main advantage as I see it is that it's like this system, inside the nebula, which means we can hope to elude a Kilrathi pursuit quickly even if they should chase us through the jump point. That could be important, if they have any kind of fleet following us at all.'
'You anticipate opposition, then,' Hobbes said slowly.
'As soon as your pilots engaged out there you can bet the word went out that there were Terrans in the neighborhood,' Eisen said grimly. 'If I was the cat CO in these parts, I'd do my best to block as many jump points as possible. We'll have to fight our way out.' He looked from Hobbes to Blair. 'That's another reason to go for Caliban, though. They might not be expecting a withdrawal to such a minor system. Maybe that jump point will have fewer defenders . . . maybe none at all, if their fleet isn't very strong in these parts.'
'Don't count on it, sir,' Blair said. 'I've been going over the incoming survey reports. While we haven't seen much in open space, there were indications of tremendous shuttle traffic over the base on One, and a fair number of ships in orbital docks and so on. You don't think they would leave all that unprotected, do you?'
Eisen pursed his lips. 'No, I guess they wouldn't. A big fleet here. . . that sounds bad. For the Admiral's project.' He glanced at Ralgha and changed the subject. 'All the more reason, though, to hope we can get the hell out of here without running into too much opposition. And if we do . . . we try to shake them as best we can and still make jump.'
'Risky,' Blair commented. 'But, as you say, it's all we can try. Do you have any special orders for us, sir?'
'I'll want you to deploy a reconnaissance in force ahead of us when we approach the jump point, Colonel,' Eisen said. 'With scanning so limited, I want an idea of what's waiting for us before we blunder into the middle of it. The timing will be tricky. You'll have to stay out long enough to give us our sneak peek at the situation, and maybe to discourage the bad guys from interfering with our approach. But then you'll have to get your fighters aboard fast, before we jump . . . and possibly under fire. Anybody who misses the boat is stuck.' His eyes narrowed. 'We can't afford another incident like Locanda, for instance. I don't think we'll be in any position to loiter around waiting for stragglers. Can your people do this?'
Blair nodded slowly, but inside his mind was racing to consider all the problems against them. 'It'll be tricky, Captain, but I'll see what we can put together to eliminate the problems as much as possible.'
'Good. Navigation tells me it'll be eighteen hours before we hit the jump point. So your people will have a little sack time, at least, before they have to launch.' Eisen gave him a look. 'Try to get some yourself, too, Colonel. We need you out there fresh and at your best.'
'Yes, sir,' Blair said, but he knew the planning and preparation time would make things tight. Sleep was a luxury he had to postpone until he knew the wing was ready. He stood up slowly, and Ralgha did the same. 'I'll keep you posted on our plans, Captain. Come on, Hobbes. Looks like we burn the midnight electrons again.'
'All right, people, you know the drill,' Blair said over the general comm channel. 'Do this thing by the numbers, and we'll be past the cats before they know we're even in the neighborhood. But don't get distracted. You stop to look at the scenery and you'll be stuck seeing it for the rest of your life . . . which won't be long if Thrakhath's little playmates have their way. so . . . let's do it!'
It was another magnum launch, with a full contingent of fighters deployed in space around the Victory as she cruised slowly through the colorful, swirling gases of the nebula toward the jump point to Caliban. As before the point defense squadron would be held back to defend the ship against Kilrathi fighters while the rest of the wing mounted Eisen's recon in force ahead of the carrier.
Blair hoped he'd covered all the likely contingencies in formulating his plans for the mission. If he'd left something out, it was too late now to deal with it. They were committed, for good or ill.
'Major Mbuto, you're up,' he said. 'Good luck. . . but I hope you won't be mad if I don't wish you good hunting!'
Amazon Mbuto chuckled. 'This is one time when we'd all be glad for an empty scanner screen, Colonel,' she said.
Mbuto's interceptors were on point, as usual, scouting ahead of the others in hopes of locating any enemy ships around the jump point before they realized the Terrans were on their way. She had six Arrows in all, with orders to locate the Kilrathi but, if possible, to avoid engaging. Victory would keep a secure laser channel open with her fighter throughout the op so that Rollins could pick up her sensor feed and analyze the tactical situation ahead of time, despite the sensor interference from the nebula.
If she did spot enemy ships blocking Victory's chosen escape route, the other squadrons would be called: Berterelli's Longbows to launch bombing strikes on capital ships and Gold Squadron to provide cover for them or to engage Kilrathi fighters. Meanwhile, once the initial scouting was finished, Mbuto would withdraw and land on Victory, followed by the bombers as soon as they dumped their loads and, hopefully, disrupted any enemy capital ships in the neighborhood. The Thunderbolts would be the last to return to the carrier, thus reducing the amount of traffic Flight Control would deal with in the critical minutes before the ship attempted to jump.
That was the plan, at least. But Blair couldn't help remembering an ancient military maxim . . . No battle plan survives contact with the enemy. Any number of things could go wrong, and there was precious little room for error.
At least a mistake today wouldn't end in the devastation of an entire colony world. But that was cold comfort as far as Blair was concerned. Victory's fate was on the line, and despite his early reaction to the battered little escort carrier, Blair had learned to think of the ship as home and her crew as comrades, even friends. Losing her wouldn't be like losing the Concordia, but . . .
He shook himself out of his reverie. If Victory didn't make it, neither would Colonel Christopher Blair. This time he wasn't likely to outlive his carrier by more than a matter of minutes, hours at most.
The time passed slowly as they waited for a report from the scouts. Comm line chatter was subdued and sporadic, and Blair had plenty of time for second and even third thoughts. Periodically he cursed the prolonged inactivity, knowing it would be demoralizing the others as much as himself, but there was nothing to be done. Until the interceptors reported, the other pilots could do nothing more than keep formation, watch their screens, and wait.
Victory to Recon Leader,' Rollins said at last. 'We're getting sensor imagery from Amazon. Captain was right, Colonel. There's a welcoming committee out there. Stand by for coordinate feed.'
In seconds, his scanner began displaying targets around the Caliban jump point, and Blair studied them intently. There were half a dozen large targets there, probably destroyers escorting a cruiser or a small Kilrathi carrier. A handful of smaller contacts were fighters, probably Darket on escort duty. The enemy force wasn't overwhelming, but it would present a significant challenge nonetheless.
'Okay,' he said at length, using a low-power general broadcast channel that would keep his transmission
