Part 25 (1/2)
Corina scrambled out of bed and into her kilt. ”Emperor Chang!”
The s.h.i.+p-comp's voice was unchanged. ”Yes, Ranger Losinj?”
”What time is it? What is happening?” The announcement left no doubt, but she wanted details.
”It is 0230, sir. The Prowler requested clearance for Sydney s.p.a.ceport, but is on course for the Palace Complex instead. Defsat Five estimates their arrival there in fifteen minutes.”
”Blades!” Corina ignored the s.h.i.+p's ”I beg your pardon, Ranger?”, and sent a hurried thought. *Jim?*
*On my way. We'll land about an hour and a quarter behind them.
Another hour to orbit, then fifteen minutes to the Palace. Seems he was closer to ready than you guessed.*
*Let us hope not disastrously so.*
*Right. Anything you can do from this distance?*
*I do not think so, at least nothing useful. Once we are aboard the lander, however, I will attempt to read Thark; his s.h.i.+eld will have to be down for him to work, and he may be distracted enough not to notice so light a touch.*
*If it's down, can't you hit him with darlas? You don't need to be in sight of him, from what you said.*
*I do not need to be in sight of someone without a s.h.i.+eld,* she returned. *That is all I am sure of. Should I attempt such an attack on Thark, it may have some effect, or it may simply alert him to our approach. I think it would be wiser to do no more than observe, if that is possible, and maintain the element of surprise. You have far more experience than I in such situations, however; I will defer to your judgement.*
*I've got more experience in combat, less in Talent. We go with your judgement on this one. See you in a second.*
It was a little longer than that, but less than a minute later the two were in a shuttle going to the lander bay. ”No armor?” Medart asked.
”I do not know how to use it,” Corina said. ”But you are not wearing it either, and you must be familiar with its use. Why not?”
”From your demonstration, there'd be no point. Armor can protect against blasters, but not against Talent--and it has a lot of places where a touch of TK would be fatal. If anyone wants to wear it I won't argue, for the psychological help it can give, but I'm not going to burden myself with it.”
They were the last to arrive; since their quarters were closest to the center of the s.h.i.+p, they had the furthest to come. When they got to the bay, most of the team was standing near the lander talking in low tones, about half in armor, but Nevan was off to one side, kneeling with upraised arms, chanting softly in a language she didn't recognize.
Her Gaelan-memories let her recognize what he was doing, however; he was preparing for battle, inducing the psycho-physical conditioning that made Sandeman warriors the most dangerous fighters in the Empire.
”If I am going to provide information about Thark,” she said, ”we had best go aboard; it is almost time for him to land. It should be safe for you to link with me, if you wish to relay what is happening to the rest.”
”That might not be a bad idea,” Medart said.
They entered the lander and Corina strapped herself into a seat-- tightly, remembering Medart's caution about Nevan's battleprepped piloting--then she made herself relax, closing her eyes, and reached tentatively for Thark's mind-pattern, ready to pull back at the first hint that he detected her touch.
They were nearing the Sentinel Mountains before Thark began slowing the Prowler. Yes, there it was: the circle of greenery and buildings surrounding the single huge structure that was his goal. The Imperial Palace.
The sight awed him, and he felt an instant of uncertainty. Could those responsible for such a tremendous feat of architecture be as incompetent to rule as he thought? It was too late for such doubts, though. They were through the weather screen, past the main Palace s.p.a.ceport, and there was no barrier to a closer approach; there was no need to disable the Palace's defense screen. As he had planned, Thark set the Prowler down on the Emperor's private landing pad. Everything had gone smoothly so far, but now there was bound to be opposition.
And that lost no time showing up. The Prowler's touchdown was the signal Palace Guards had been waiting for; humans, Irschchans, and a Traiti, all in Imperial Marine dress blues, ran toward the s.h.i.+p, drawing and firing their sidearms. They were no real threat; handguns couldn't penetrate even a courier's s.h.i.+elding. The heavy disruptor cannon swinging to take aim at the little s.h.i.+p's main hatch was an entirely different matter, though. A small cannon of that type could do serious damage, and one this size would simply separate s.h.i.+p and contents into their component atoms.
But that was something Thark could handle. He made a quick scan to locate the weapon's operator and any backup, finding to his relief that there was none. A swift thrust of darlas, and the cannon was no longer a threat, its operator dead. It was the first death at Thark's own hands . . . but it was not the only one for long. The defending Palace Guards began to drop as the Seniors used viewscreen images to pick and focus on their targets. Thark took the ones they couldn't see, the ones hidden by Prowler's hull.