As soon as the rest were out of the way, Medart began leading the other two through the Palace's private section. Nevan would have been better at point, but he couldn't know this part of the Palace—
"Down!"
Medart dropped automatically, heard a stun-bolt go by overhead, and saw a gray-kilted Irschchan fall two corridors ahead. "You okay, Rina?"
"I am fine." Corina had also dropped at the warning; now both Rangers stood. She turned to the Sandeman. "How did you do that?"
Nevan gave a tiny shrug. "I heard @, probably. Or saw a flash of kilt, I can't be sure. Since I knew it wasn't one of our people, I fired."
Medart managed a chuckle, despite the circumstances. "They call it combat instinct, Rina—but I'm beginning to think it's an aspect of Talent."
"An aspect that works through a shield," Corina said. "That will have to be explored later—for now, we can only use it. How much further?"
"Not much." Medart began moving again, taking a straight line until he made an abrupt turn that took them into a corridor with several widely-spaced doors. "Our offices—this hall brings us out behind the Throne, but I have to check something. Wait a minute."
He went into one of the offices, emerged seconds later. "The security cameras are getting the whole thing—we've got plenty of evidence. Let's finish this up."
He led them through a door at the end of the corridor. It opened behind draperies; when the three stepped through those, Corina found they were on the Throne's marble dais, two meters behind the plain, high-backed wooden chair. She moved forward, between it and one of the swirling-silver columns that flanked it.