"That's why I'd rather work with machines," she told him. "Sooner or later, people just screw up the works."

"Maybe you're being too hard on people," he said. "Some of us are okay when you get to know us."

She looked him up and down with a slow smile. "They need to pass inspection, same as anything else." She stood up, collected the holocassette, then tucked it into a pocket of her baggy coveralls. "I got certain hours for that kind of quality control work, of course."

Blair returned her smile, warming to her. "You keep that schedule posted somewhere, Chief?"

"Only for a select few, Colonel," she told him. "The ones with the best schematics."

"I hope you're not expecting anything too exciting, Blair. This is probably just another milk run, from the looks of it. At least that's what we're hoping for."

Blair studied Eisen's face, trying to locate a hint of sarcasm in his expression. Since Gold Squadron's triumph over the Kilrathi cruiser and its escort, enemy activity in the Orsini system had virtually disappeared, and Victory had jumped to the Tamayo system, where they had been carrying out a seemingly endless string of routine patrols. Blair and Hobbes took their turn on the duty schedule along with the rest of the wing, but so far there was no further combat. The only excitement since the first big clash came when a pair of interceptors from Blue Squadron tangled with four light Kilrathi fighters, sending them running in short order.

Eisen was right about the missions to date being milk runs, but was there something more behind his comment? Meaning that was all Blair could handle, perhaps? His impassive face gave away nothing as he called up a holographic mission plan for Blair and Ralgha to study.

"The cats —" Eisen broke off, shooting a look at Hobbes. "The Kilrathi have been steering clear of the Victory, but they sent a couple of squadrons of raiders to work the edges of the system, near the jump point to Locanda. In the past week, they've picked off three transports outbound for the Locanda colony while we've come up empty."

Blair frowned. "I was posted in that system once, a few years back. There's not a hell of a lot there. I'm surprised we sent three transports that way in one week."

The captain didn't reply right away. Finally he gave a I shrug. "Some of our intelligence sources in the Empire received word that the enemy is planning a move against the Locanda System. Confed's been pumping resources that way to try to catch them unprepared. Apparently the main reason they are hanging around is to harass our supply lines." He looked from Blair to Hobbes, then back to Blair again. "Needless to say, that information stays in this room.

"Yes, sir," Blair said. Ralgha nodded assent.

"Right, then. Another transport is set to make a run today, but this time we're sending an escort. We want to see if we can break this little blockade of their's once and for all, then open the pipeline into Locanda again. Your job is to provide the escort and be ready for trouble. Like I said, with luck, they will miss this one. But if the bad guys return, we want that transport covered. Understood?"

"Aye, aye, sir," Blair replied formally.

"Good. Let's cover the details . . ."

It took a good ten minutes to go over the specifics of the mission, establishing rendezvous coordinates and other details. When it was all over, Blair and Hobbes stood. "We're ready, Captain," Blair said. "Come on, Hobbes, let's get saddled up."

"A moment more, Colonel, if you please," Eisen said, holding up a hand. He shot Ralgha a look. "In private."

"I will see you on the flight deck, Colonel," Hobbes said. The Kilrathi seemed calm and imperturbable as ever, but Blair thought he could detect a note of concern in his friend's tone.

Blair sat back down as the Kilrathi left the room. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"Colonel, I'd like to discuss your attitude," Eisen said as soon as the door had closed behind Hobbes. He sounded angry. "Seems to me you're under the impression that you're too good to mix with the rest of the pilots."

"I'm not sure I understand, Captain," Blair said slowly. "I've been getting to know them . . ."

"But in three weeks aboard this tub, the only wingman you've flown with is Hobbes." Eisen cut his attempted protest off. "I know he's your friend, and I know there's still some bad feelings among some of the others about working with him, but it isn't helping morale by you refusing to pair with anybody else. I know Chang would fly with him, and probably one or two of the others as well, so you could at least trade off now and then."

"Sir, with all due respect, that isn't your decision to make," Blair told him quietly. "You are CO of this ship, but the flight wing is my bailiwick. Mine alone. I run the wing my way. A pilot has to be able to trust his wingman, feeling complete total confidence in him, which is exactly the way I feel about Hobbes. I choose to fly with him."

"Even though he let you down your first time out?"

"Sir?" Blair had been careful to keep the details of the first patrol ambiguous in his official report.

"Come on, Colonel, you know the networks. Even the CO hears some things, no matter how much everybody works to cover them. Hobbes hared off after an enemy fighter and left you in the lurch when they jumped you.

"I don't blame him, sir. The whole situation just sort of . . . developed."

"Well, it's pretty difficult to see how you can continue to have confidence in Hobbes after that mess, no matter how much you close your eyes to it. And there's another point here, Blair. By saying how much you trust Hobbes, you're implying that you don't have any faith in the, others. I don't like that. It's bad for morale — not just in your precious flight wing, but involving the entire ship. I won't stand for anything that hampers the performance of Victory or her crew." Eisen studied him for a few seconds. "Do you have a problem with the rest of the wing?"

"Sir, I just don't know them well enough yet," Blair said. "The only one I do know is Marshall, and quite frankly I wouldn't fly with him if he was the only pilot on this ship. He's a menace who should have had his wings taken away a long time ago."

Eisen looked thoughtful, but didn't speak.

"As for the others," Blair went on. "Lieutenant Buckley has a good record, but I'm not sure her head's screwed on straight. Chang seems like a nice guy, but undisciplined and unpredictable. The others . . . I'm still finding out about them. They are accustomed to each other, and they're already paired into some pretty good teams. I don't think it is wise to rock the boat until I've got a better handle on how they perform."

"How will you find anything out about them if you don't fly with them?"

"Every time they go out the launch tubes, I follow the mission from Flight Control, Captain. Believe me, I'm starting to get a pretty good idea of how they fly . . . and how they think. I'll start rotating the roster when I'm ready . . . and not before then."

"Well, I strongly suggest you speed up the process a bit, Colonel," Eisen said. "Get to know them and start flying with them. If you don't, I think you're going to have a serious morale problem. Is that clear?"

"As a bell, sir."

"Then you're dismissed." Eisen hesitated a moment. "And . . . good luck out there today, Colonel."

"Thank you, sir." Blair stood and gave Eisen a quick salute, then left the ready room. As he rode down the elevator to the Flight Deck, he reviewed in his mind everything the captain said. By the time the doors slid open, he was seething inside.

Someone plainly ran to Eisen behind his back, carrying tales, and hinting that Blair was unfit. Blair was sure he knew just who it was.