Wing Commander #07 False Color by William Forstchen (best books to read in life .txt) 📕

it," he said. "He's too good to entrust that much detail to a code unless he knows for sure we can't break it. In fact, odds are he'd've sent it by courier if he didn't want us to pick it up."

"That tells us he wants Kruger on the horns of this exact dilemma," Admiral Tolwyn said thoughtfully. "Which implies that he's worried about an attack before the dreadnought's ready. Don't you think so, Vance?"

Richards frowned. "I suppose so. He'll know Kruger's reputation. Old Max is just crazy enough to launch an all-out attack to try to cripple the dreadnought. Therefore, threaten a target Max can't ignore. He doesn't have the forces to do both . . ."

"And Vorghath escapes attack until her refit is finished," the elder Tolwyn finished. "It's elegant, you have to give the Cat bastard that much."

"Karga . . . Mjollnir is the President's ace in the hole," Kevin said. "He figures the fleet can give a good account of itself at Ilios. Without you, or your battle group." "We'd never get past the jump point," Richards said. "You can bet he'll have more than just Vorghath guarding his capitol. So we'd have to slog our way through all their defenses . . . and by the time we did reach the orbital dock, if we reached it, we'd be badly damaged and they'd be fully on the alert. Same thing with a fighter sortie, for that matter, eh, Jason?"

"Yeah . . ." Bondarevsky trailed off as an idea struck him. "Admiral, there's one way we might get in close enough to take them by surprise."

"Not your Strakhas," Richards said, holding up a hand. "I know Blair managed to get in close enough to launch the T-Bomb in a cloaked Excalibur fighter, but he lost pretty near his whole damned squadron getting there. And we don't have a bomb big enough to do more that scratch the hull of a dreadnought."

"No, sir," Bondarevsky agreed with a nod of his head. "No, we can't hit them with one squadron of fighters. But we could get Mjollnir close enough to do the trick . . ."

Admiral Tolwyn slapped the table with one hand. "By God, Jason, you're right! We're the one ship in human space that could pull it off!"

Richards looked from one to the other. "You want to impersonate a Kilrathi ship . . . ?"

"Exactly," the other admiral replied. "Look, we're in a Cat carrier with heavy damage. They're used to Cats

coming in and joining up . . . Vorghath's not the only new recruit to sign on with Ragark's fleet, after all. So we sail past their pickets and ask ever so nicely for a berth at the spacedock to get some much-needed repairs."

"Lord knows that's believable enough," Bondarevsky

commented wryly. He was thinking of his conversation with Harper back in the shuttle. Their very weakness could sell their story to the Kilrathi.

"We could even use the rest of the battle group for verisimilitude," Tolwyn went on, an excited light dawning in his eyes. "They play the part of human ships in hot pursuit. So there's a fight near the jump point, all right, that draws other Cat patrols away from Baka Kar. That lets us get in nice and close without being engaged. Then . . . we strike. We may not have as many weapons as they do, but I dare say Mr. Deniken could cause some damage with his guns. And we sortie the whole flight wing, for cover, and to add to the attack."

"Our Kilrathi fighters will work to our advantage there, too," Bondarevsky added. "Especially the Strakhas. The Black Cats will tie their defenses in knots."

Richards raised a hand. "The enthusiasm is commendable, gentlemen," he said. "But there's plenty you haven't covered. Such as how we pass ourselves off as Cats . . ."

"Computer simulacrums," Tolwyn interjected. "With a claim of comm damage, they'll be convincing enough."

"And there's the matter of codes and ciphers," Richards went on as if his fellow admiral hadn't spoken. "They're no doubt buried in the material we extracted from the computer during the refit, but we'd have to do a lot of digging . . . and they still might not be enough." He paused. "And the big one, people. Good as your plan sounds, it's almost certainly a one-way mission. Mjollnir might get off a few good hits, might even damage the dreadnought and the spacedock thoroughly enough to remove the threat, but with the whole system stirred up against us I seriously doubt our ability to get out of there again."

Admiral Tolwyn fixed him with a fiery eye. "Vance . . . this is the big one. What we put this ship back into operation for in the first place. Look—thanks to the conspirators back home Ragark's had a free hand to move against the Landreich. No doubt they figured he'd win a handy victory, but then when ConFleet mobilized at last they could contain him. Go in with T-Bombs or whatever it took and neutralize his little empire. But they screwed up, Vance. None of them could have been expecting a dreadnought. Ragark will roll right over the Landreich and just keep on going, as far as he wants. Remember the Battle of Earth? All those cities going up in flames? If the Vorghath orbits and turns her guns on Earth, there won't be anything left. Ragark will do what Thrakhath always wanted . . . blast Mankind back into the Stone Age on every planet we've settled, and keep a few survivors around for sport or slaves." He leaned forward in his chair. "Jason's scheme is the one chance we have of getting in there and neutralizing that monster before it gets loose and brings down everything_ If it means we don't come back . . . well, all of us have been there before."

Richards looked at Bondarevsky. "I imagine you agree with him, Jason," he said quietly.

"Yes, sir," Bondarevsky replied. "I don't