"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 familiar with.
"How did you manage to capture him?" Thark asked the Sanctioners.
Jamar answered. "We found him in the Comm Section just as we received your message, Master. We attacked before he could get his weapon out. He fought well, as you can see, but he could not defeat two of us." The Sanctioner hesitated.
"Go on," Thark urged him.
"Master Thark—he is shielded! I could not read his intentions!"