'Once again an enemy threat to our very homeworld has been thwarted,' the Emperor intoned solemnly. 'This puny contingent of their soldiers was captured aboard a hijacked Imperial transport in orbit around Kilrah itself.'
There was a scattering of calls from the assembled nobles — shock, anger, hatred plain in their voices and bearing. The Emperor silenced them with a curt gesture and gave Thrakhath a sign to speak.
'This incursion was an act of desperation,' the prince said, showing his fangs. His arms made encompassing gestures toward the victims behind the throne. 'Look at these pathetic hairless apes. They have failed their race utterly.'
A growling cheer rose from the crowd.
'Do what you will with them,' the Emperor said.
Red light glimmered off Thrakhath's fangs. 'There will be no interrogation for these pitiful apes . . . and no warrior's death. They are offal, fit only for death.' The Prince waved a dismissive hand. 'Only one among them is worthy of being treated as a warrior. Their leader . . . the one they call . . . Angel.'
Blair wanted to look away as a pair of burly Kilrathi warriors half-pushed, half-dragged a familiar petite figure into the middle of the throne room directly in front of Thrakhath. Like the other Terrans, she had been tortured, her flight suit reduced to tattered ruin, the face that haunted Blair's dreams bruised. There was dried blood on her forehead, a livid welt on one cheek, but she wore her defiance like a shield. Whatever the Kilrathi had done to her, Jeannette Devereaux's spirit remained as fiery and determined as ever.
At the sight of the woman, the Kilrathi nobles grew more agitated. Blair recognized the bloodlust in their eyes, in the way they bared claws and fangs as they jeered the captive. Only the sheer force of Thrakhath's personality held them at bay as he stepped down from the dais to inspect Angel more closely.
'Still defiant, Colonel Devereaux?' the prince asked. 'You should know by now it is a pathetic and useless gesture. The hunt has nearly run its course, and your race is prey beneath our claws.'
'You bore me, monsieur, she told him, mustering a faint smile. 'I would prefer to join my comrades, rather than listen to more of your boasting.'
'You will not join them, Colonel,' Thrakhath said. 'Your fate shall be different.'
Angel replied by spitting in his face. There were hisses and jeers from the crowd, a harsh growl from Thrakhath's throat. He turned to address his nobles.
'The human cannot appreciate the honor I bestow upon her. She is not only a great warrior, but her lair- mate is the one known as the Heart of the Tiger.' He turned back to her; his eyes narrowed in a deadly stare. The cries of the Kilrathi reached a bloodthirsty crescendo. 'You have slain many fine warriors during your career You have earned this honor.'
The prince unsheathed his claws. With a single thrust he jabbed them deep into her stomach and lifted her off the ground, high into the air. Blood flowed freely from the wound. The view on the screen caught her face in close-up as the life drained from her eyes. Blair thought he saw a final look of appeal there, as if she was crying out to him for rescue . . . or for vengeance.
Then the prince released her, and her lifeless body crumpled to the ground.
Thrakhath's image filled the screen again. 'Come, Heart of the Tiger,' he said. 'I am leading; my warriors into battle today. If you would live up to the honor your lair-mate earned, come and fight. Or be shown for the pathetic coward you are.'
Christopher Blair stared at the screen, his mind a whirl of anger and pain and hate. At that moment, all he wanted to do was kill . . .
CHAPTER XXI
'Can't you shut the damned thing off, Lieutenant?' Eisen demanded. On his communications screen, Thrakhath's feral features continued to glare hatred and challenge. The message was starting all over again.
'I'm trying, sir,' Rollins answered. 'But it's not an ordinary transmission. Damn thing's got the whole comm system tied in knots. Hold on a minute . . . I think I can kick in a backup system . . . everybody cross your fingers!'
The communications officer entered a code sequence on his board, and a moment later the Kilrathi message broke up into static. A few seconds later Eisen's screen was back to normal, the green light shining above it indicating the system was ready to use.
'Thank you, Mr. Rollins,' Eisen said. 'Ensign Dumont, get me an updated sensor reading. What are those bastards doing out there? Oh . . . and Rollins, put me through to Colonel Blair.'
'On the line, sir.'
Blair's head appeared on the monitor. Even though his flight helmet faceplate hid Blairs features, Eisen thought he looked pale and stricken. There was no mistaking the barely-suppressed snarl in his voice. 'Ready to launch, Captain,' he said.
'Not so fast, Colonel,' Eisen told him. 'We're still trying to get a picture of what the cats are doing. The ship s less than fifteen minutes from the jump point, and we might make it yet without having to launch.'
'If they've got fighters out, sir, you'll have to put us out there to hold them off,' Blair replied. 'At least for a little while.'
'Look, Colonel . . .' Eisen trailed off. He didn't know what to say to the man, after Thrakhath's message. 'Maybe you ought to sit this one out, Blair. Let Hobbes take over.'
'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.
