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Updated: June 26, 2025
Except for the Palace itself, then, our objectives should be no more heavily defended than any others unless we ourselves attract attention to them in some way. "The Seniors and I, together with thirty-six Sanctioners, will take Prowler to Terra, leaving here in time to attack the Palace in coordination with the rest of you, at 0245.
Between that and her kilt-flipping, unless she ran into a Sanctioner who knew her well enough to identify her by the pattern of her mind-shield, she might make it. Bare minutes later, though, her hopes fell as she heard the patrol cruiser approaching again. It stopped in front of her and three gray-kilted Sanctioners got out.
Huddling up, she let her mind-shield relax slightly. As the cruiser picked up speed, she felt one of the Sanctioners try a probe. Don't fight it, she told herself, use it. Sanctioners were Talented, of course, but they didn't have the training or control she had gotten from Thark. They shouldn't be able to detect her attempt at deception.
She straightened and left at a fast walk, was around the corner and out of sight before he spotted Garal's unconscious form. She tightened her shield, feeling probes as the Sanctioner alerted the others. Although she knew it would make her conspicuous, she broke into a run. She had to reach the park that encircled the Planetary Palace before the Sanctioners caught her again.
Sanctioners, however, have only limited Talent, as a rule just telepathy and shields, so they use and are quite familiar with distance weapons. Some have considerable skill, and those are the ones likeliest to be in Thark's group." Greggson frowned. "No unTalented at all? I'd hoped we could supplement our few shielded people with a trained Security team, at least."
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.
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.
Self-defense was commendable, but she could not kill one who was unable to defend himself. She did, however, increase the mental pressure on him enough to insure he would remain unconscious for at least an hour. Then she sensed one of the other Sanctioners returning, wondering idly what was keeping Garal and the prisoner.
These Sanctioners were big, and they were treating her as cautiously as they would a dangerous criminal. From the Order's point of view, though, that was now an accurate description. "All right, Losinj," the oldest one said. "Hands on your head, and do not move." Corina obeyed, moving slowly to give herself time to think.
With Sanctioners on her trail, using her identification to call for public transportation at one of the hailing posts would be a fatal mistake. The occasional clumps of bushes bordering the street's short-cropped grass gave her an idea. She was fairly conspicuous; there were few pedestrians this far from the city, and as Thark had told her often enough, she did dress rather gaudily.
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