HE WOULD DO IT ALL HIMSELF. With only the resources and undying loyalty of the Third Fleet, he would defeat Soviet Space alone, against orders---the greatest military feat of all time. Each disposition would have to be perfect, each soldier's skill and determination honed to a cutting edge of steel. AGAINST ALL ODDS! Or, at the very least, he would draw the Soviets into a full-scale war. . .and give his reluctant president no choice..... He got up and began to pace eagerly, shaking off age and fatigue. YES, THAT'S IT. OF COURSE! HE THINKS HE'S MADE A CLEVER MOVE, CHEATED ME. WE'LL SEE HOW LONG THE SOVIETS REMAIN NEUTRAL WHEN I DEVASTATE THE COALITION FORCES, AND KNOCK OUT THE EAST GERMAN HOME PLANET. "MORE DEPENDS ON IT THAN YOUR EGO OR MINE," HE SAID TO ME. "TO VIEW THE MATTER HARSHLY. . .TREASON!" HE'LL 'CALL MY BLUFF', WILL HE? MY 'OBSESSION' WITH COMMUNISM. Hayes smashed a fist into his open hand. "RELINQUISH ALL MILITARY TITLES." "MAVERICK!." SO HELP ME GOD; IF THIS ACTION ISN'T ENOUGH TO CHANGE HIS MIND, I'LL DO IT. I'LL COME AFTER HIM! FOOL. BLIND FOOL. At length he ceased his pacing and grew calmer. The meeting with General Staff was approaching, and he must decide what course to take with them: The meeting would be held. He would address the sub-commanders as scheduled, as the mighty ship headed out toward the entrance of the star gate. Nothing had changed. Stone's actions had been a small annoyance, nothing more. He switched on the dictation machine, and began speaking rapidly and decisively. * * * Lt. Eric Muller had been in e-light warp for almost fifteen hours, barely outraced by the laser sounding-beam sent out ahead of him days before. So far he had been lucky---he had not had to deviate course. He knew that once he did, leaving the path of the beam, he would have no warning at all before smashing into an unrecorded meteor, or bit of space debris. To come out of light-speed and fly by sight and instruments meant to expose himself to tracking, almost certain death while approaching enemy-controlled positions. The small, blistering ship in which he flew had been designed with but a single purpose: to outrace tracking, come out of warp just long enough to aim the projectile, then split in two, the adjoining missile (hopefully) striking its target before the enemy could react, while the escape-ship ran for cover. It was a desperate scheme, this squadron of forty missile-ships; but it remained theoretically possible, and therefore must be tried. The Coalition powers had not been idle since the attack on Athena, and the high command of the Provinces of Democratic (East) Germany, suspecting their inner planets to be a likely next target, were determined to show Hayes what they were made of---that it would be no easy fight---and that the Dreadnought was not impregnable.