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He was going to retire, open his cantina. He had it all planned out, and that bastard Hobbes snuffed him
out. And Cobra, too. It s one thing to lose your buddies on the firing line, but this . . . it s just wrong.
Blair fixed him with a level stare. I hear you, Vagabond. I ve been there myself, and not just this cruise,
either. But you can t let it eat away at you. He pointed to the locker. Do you know how much I hate
this ritual? As his CO, I m the one who has to send the comm to Vaquero s family . . . you know, the
one that s supposed to make them feel proud of their son and the way he died. What am I supposed to
tell them? That my best friend turned traitor and killed him in a sneak attack? That I might have stopped it
if I hadn t been so convinced that Hobbes was one of the good guys? He shook his head.
Vagabond shrugged and sighed. I used to think I could keep myself apart from it, you know? Be the
cool professional on duty, and the squadron clown in the rec room. But for the first time, here on Victory,
I actually felt like I was starting to put down roots. I made friends, real friends . . . Cobra, Vaquero,
Beast Jaeger. Now they re gone, and all I want is to see the end of it all . . . one way or another.
Blair didn t reply right away. Vagabond s words struck a familiar chord. The attack on Kilrah s likely
to be a one-way trip, Chang, he said at last. It s supposed to be an all-volunteer run. I was going to
encourage you to opt out of it, since you were pretty well set against bombing civilian targets. Now . . .
hell, I don t have enough pilots in Gold Squadron as it is. If you really want in, I ll be glad to have you
there. But if you re not sure, speak up now. So I can try to get someone else checked out on the
Excalibur from one of the other outfits.
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Vagabond shook his head. Don t bother. I m in.
It s nice to know you can count on . . . people. Blair turned back to the locker, saw Vaquero s prized
old guitar. He picked it up, ran his fingers over each string. His family will want this, I suppose . . . he
said softly. Then, with another flash of anger, he went on. It just isn t fair, Chang. That kid should never
have been a pilot.
But he was, Vagabond told him. A good one, too. We re all going to miss him, before this thing is
over.
Together, they emptied out the locker and packed Vaquero s gear in the cargo module. When it was
done, Blair tagged it and left it outside the door for a work detail to pick up later. He fetched a second
module from a storeroom nearby and headed for his last stop. He knew this one would be the most
difficult of all.
Cobra had shared her quarters with Flint, and the lieutenant opened the door at Blair s signal. She saw
the cargo module and nodded. Cobra s stuff, huh?
Yeah. He followed her in. Er . . . you knew her pretty well, didn t you?
As well as anyone, I guess, she said. Laurel didn t make a lot of friends.
I guess not. Blair looked away. Fact is, I m supposed to send her effects to her family, write a note,
the usual routine. But I don t even know if she has a family. Her file was pretty thin.
We were the only family she had, Flint said softly.
I didn t treat her very well, for family, Blair said, looking away. I trusted Hobbes, not her . . .
You had your reasons, she replied. Blaming yourself won t change what happened . . . won t bring
Cobra back, or Vaquero, either.
Maybe you re right. I don t know any more. It seems like every choice I ve made, every turn I ve
taken since I came on board this ship has been wrong. I m starting to second-guess myself on
everything.
Flint hesitated a moment before responding, her look intent, searching for something in his face.
Everything? Does that mean your romance with your little grease monkey has fallen through?
What s that supposed to mean? he demanded. He was still feeling bad about breaking his date with
Rachel the night before, but under the circumstances he hadn t felt like seeing anyone.
She looked away. I just thought . . . you could do a lot better, you know?
No, I don t know, Blair told her. Rachel s been a good friend to me . . . more than a friend. He
studied her. I know you thought there might be something between you and me. I m sorry if I gave you
the wrong idea about how I felt.
Just how do you feel? she demanded.
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You ve been a good friend, too, Flint. Hell, I probably owe you my life, after Delius. And under other
circumstances, things might have gone further between us.
Other circumstances . . . ?
Don t you get it, Flint? Rachel s not a pilot. You are. And after Angel × I just don t think I could handle
getting involved with another pilot. Especially one who might end up flying on my wing. He paused.
Truth is, it isn t fair to either one of you, now. When we hit Kilrah, odds are none of us are coming
back. So any romance I get into now is strictly short-term.
Maybe that s all there is for any of us, now, Flint said quietly. If this next fight goes against us, there
won t be time left for anyone.
Blair nodded. That s true enough. Look . . . I m sorry. I didn t want to hurt you.
I m grown up, she told him. I can handle rejection. But I don t take kindly to losing out to some
mechanic who smells like synlubes and uses grease for make-up.
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