y were the last to arrive; since their quarters were closest to the
center of the ship, 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
spaceport, 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 ship,
drawing and firing their sidearms. They were no real threat; handguns
couldn't penetrate even a courier's shielding. The heavy disruptor
cannon swinging to take aim at the little ship's main hatch was an
entirely different matter, though. A small cannon of that type could
do serious damage, and one this size would si