Part 25 (2/2)

With the first wave of opposition dead, Thark opened the hatch, extended the ramp, and led the Seniors and Sanctioners toward the pad's entrance to the Palace. They were almost there when more opposition arrived, perhaps a dozen Palace Guards--followed seconds later by a man in Ranger green.

There was no time to be neat; the Sanctioners used blasters, the Seniors darlas and soul-blades. Thark's fur was splattered with blood by the time he reached the Ranger. Mens.h.i.+kov's gun was coming to bear on him even as Thark used darlas to attack. A Ranger deserved that much of honor, to die with @'s body unmarked.

But--Mens.h.i.+kov was s.h.i.+elded, impossible as that was! An involuntary s.h.i.+eld, though, however good, was no match for Thark's lifetime of training and experience. Mens.h.i.+kov's face twisted in agony, and he collapsed before he could scream.

Thark stared at the crumpled body for several seconds. The man's s.h.i.+eld disturbed him more than he cared to admit, even to himself. It should not have existed! Still, he thought, perhaps in the final extremity, a rare human could show a trace of Talent; such things had been known to happen on Irschcha. He would check on it later, perhaps; for now, it made no difference.

Corina's attention returned to the lander, where she found herself and Medart the focus of the entire a.s.sault team's intense interest. *What do you expect?* Medart sent grimly. *That's the second Ranger murdered in the Palace in less than two months--maybe others elsewhere, depending on how widespread this Crusade is.*

*Probably others elsewhere,* Corina replied, equally grim. *He will not be content with one strike, and Rangers are essential targets for anyone who seeks to greatly alter or destroy the Empire. I fear for those who are not in s.p.a.ce or otherwise out of the Order's reach.*

*Me, too.* He continued aloud. ”Did he sense you?”

”No. As I thought, he is too intent on his task to notice a touch as light as I am using. Is there no way we can get there faster? If he continues at his present rate, everyone in the Palace may be dead by the time we arrive.”

”No, dammit,” Hobison said. ”Hyperdrive is three lights per hour, period, and we're still most of an hour out.”

”Perhaps a few minutes,” Nevan said. ”If Chang can make a sub-orbital pa.s.s, we can save the descent from orbit.”

That brought the group's attention to him, and Corina was struck by the change in his bearing. Everything about him was taut, ready: his eyes held an eager gleam, and his smile was nothing like the happy one she'd seen when she offered him this duty; instead it was one of deadly antic.i.p.ation, and he was seething with controlled violence. It was easy, seeing him this way, to believe stories that had been difficult to accept earlier. ”Is that not quite dangerous?”

It was Medart who answered. ”For a standard human, it's almost impossible. For a battleprepped warrior, it's not too bad; they did it quite a bit during the Incursion. It'd save probably ten minutes.”

”We will do so, then,” Corina decided. ”Captain Hobison, would you give the necessary orders? And ask whoever is in temporary command to notify Defsat Five when we land, please; I believe we may be too busy to do it.”

”Yes, sir.” Hobison left, going to the lander's controls.

Corina took another look at Nevan, then sighed--a human mannerism, but one that seemed appropriate. ”I suppose I should return to my observations.”

”It would help to know what he's up to,” Medart said. ”First, though, I think you ought to check out Nevan's s.h.i.+eld. It seems battleprep makes a difference in Talent strength, too.”

Corina's ears went back briefly. ”Such things do not normally change, but I will retest him.” When she touched the Sandeman's mind, her ears went forward in amazement. His s.h.i.+eld, respectably strong before, now had the density and chill feel of s.p.a.cer-steel armor!

She nodded. ”This means a personnel switch. Nevan now has a better chance against Thark than Colonel Greggson does; he will accompany us, and Colonel Greggson will a.s.sist with the other attackers.”

Neither man raised any objection to the subst.i.tution, though Greggson's expression was not pleased. Nevan simply nodded, his eyes a bit brighter.

Thark had entered the Palace by the time she made contact again, and the slaughter was continuing. He, Valla, Kainor, and four Sanctioners were looking for the Emperor; the rest were spreading out to eliminate opposition elsewhere in the Palace.

There were adequate maps of the public areas, none of the private areas like this--but for one of Thark's Talent, that was a minor obstacle.

It was a simple matter to extract whatever directions he wanted from the uns.h.i.+elded minds of staff and Guards before killing them. His first goal was the Emperor's working office; when that proved empty, he got directions to His Majesty's apartment on the top floor, and led his team there.

When that also proved to be empty, Thark began to worry. Something was definitely wrong, and it took longer to get around in the Palace than he had expected, even for a building so huge; it took a good five minutes simply to get from the bottom to the top floor or back. Then there was the time to find his objectives, made longer by having to eliminate opposition on the way--this was taking too long!

The a.s.sault team on the lander disagreed; anything that delayed Thark worked in their favor. ”How long till launch?” someone asked Nevan.

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