oon as he received acknowledgements, he called Valla and Kainor to
him. "We have a serious problem. The Emperor and Crown Prince have
left Terra, an option we did not consider, and this one," he indicated
the body, "did not know why or for what destination. All he knew was
that they were picked up by a lander from the Empress Lindner day
before yesterday. We must find and eliminate them, else the Crusade is
doomed."

"If they are aboard a battle cruiser," Valla objected, "how can we
destroy them? You know how powerful and well-armed those ships are."

Thark nodded. "True. But our ships are no smaller than Traiti
warcraft, and they destroyed several such cruisers without the
advantage of Talent to tell them the humans' intentions. It will not
be easy, but it can be done."

"It will cost us many lives."

Thark agreed, somberly. "I know. Yet we cannot stop now. We have
gone too far to fail."

Movement at the Throne Room's great door attracted his attention. It
was Underofficer Jamar and another of his Sanctioners, half carrying
and half dragging a bound and bleeding prisoner toward him. Thark
purred briefly, pleased. The prisoner was better than he had expected,
a Ranger who would surely know the Emperor's location. From the man's
condition, it was as well he had ordered the killing to stop when he
had, else he might have lost this valuable prisoner.

Aboard the lander, Corina heard swearing--which was interrupted by
Nevan's "Launch!" command. A pressor beam sent them out the airlock
and through the cruiser's wake, the lander's engines screaming as its
pilot fought it through maneuvers it hadn't been designed for. Corina
felt a sudden lurch of fear--could he do it?

*He's from Clan Leras and he's battleprepped,* Medart assured her.
*That part I'm not worried about--can you get anything else while we're
going in?*

*If his maneuvers do not become too violent.* Corina re-established
contact, to find Thark studying the youngest of the Rangers--she was
the newest, but almost four standard years older than he--Ray Kennard.
Medium height and build, he was a fair-skinned redhead who might have
been handsome but for his injuries. He had clearly resisted till he
could fight no more, yet despite his injuries and his obvious
weakness--he could barely stand--he seemed to radiate an aura of quiet
competence. Thark felt grudging respect. This human wasn't like the
tourists and administrators he was all too