M + 7-Wishun and Draibo woke him up. Station Four was gone. Apparently the underground had to blow it prematurely. However, there was no sign that anyone suspected anything more than an unusually successful underground attack.
M + 9-It was officially confirmed over the ship's public address system: Station Four has been overrun and destroyed by the bandit underground. The enemy is being pursued and no quarter will be given. Meanwhile we of Dark Warrior must redouble our efforts, to bring vengeance to the memory of our comrades and glory to Loyun Chard and Targa.
M + 10-Blade set out to find Riyannah and the rest of the boarding party.
M + 13-Blade found what he was looking for. It was encouraging that the search took so long. The chances of anyone stumbling on the boarding party by accident appeared to be rather small.
The sheer size of Dark Warrior was impressive. So was the resources and technical ingenuity put into building her. If the ship hadn't been intended for such evil purposes, it would have been a pity to destroy. Even if she was destroyed and Chard overthrown, the Targans might very well go ahead and build another. They were going to be a force to reckon with in the future of this galaxy and this Dimension, whether the Kananites liked it or not,
Riyannah explained how she'd chosen the two cabins where the boarding party was hiding. «There's only one corridor approaching us, and we have that watched every minute. If somebody does come, we'll have plenty of time to retreat through the ventilation system. The ducts will easily take a fully-equipped man, and we've got a route all mapped out.»
«Good work, General Riyannah,» said Blade, and he wasn't entirely joking in calling her «General.»
M + 14 through M + 50-Waiting, the monotony broken only by periodic reports of the pursuit of the «vile murderers of our comrades of Station Four.» The «no quarter» slogan was a gruesome piece of good luck. If the enemy wasn't going to take any prisoners, they wouldn't be able to make any of the underground talk and reveal Plan Blade.
M + 52-Dark Warrior's captain decided that the homeless shuttle M 675 and her crew would be temporarily assigned to Dark Warrior and ride along with her. There was a moment of uncertainty for Blade-was the captain going to expect anyone beside the pilots to appear? Apparently not. Having the shuttle aboard meant the survivors of the boarding party, if any, wouldn't have to steal one of the ship's own lifeboats to escape after the battle.
M + 54-Three shuttles arrived in a bunch and started unloading black-uniformed State Security troops. They moved to quarters near the VIP suites. «It looks as if our passengers are going to join us a little early,» said Wishun.
M + 60-It was announced that all crew for this mission should now be aboard and assigned quarters and duties. All hands had four hours to deal with personal matters and prepare for a formal review-full-dress uniform for armed forces personnel.
«We're not only getting our passengers early, it looks as if we're going to be on our way sooner than we expected,» said Draibo.
«Do you really mind?» asked Blade.
«Hardly,» said both engineers together. Every hour saved in getting out into space meant one less hour of waiting, one less hour with discovery and disaster possible.
M + 64-The engineers and the pilots headed for the wardroom, with Blade in his proper place behind them. By the time they got to the wardroom, it was packed with officers and their attendants. A good many of the officers were fully-armed State Security people, rather obviously keeping watch on everybody else. Blade was amused to note that the glowering State Security officers made the regular Targan officers much more nervous than they made him.
The ventilation system aboard Dark Warrior didn't have all the bugs out of it and the wardroom was packed almost wall to wall. It was already hot and stuffy and it was rapidly getting worse. Blade felt his face turning slimy with sweat and the high collar of his dress tunic sagging like a melting ice cream cone. No one else looked much more comfortable, even the State Security officers.
A whistle blew, then three trumpets sounded, ringing painfully in the closed metal compartment. Someone shouted, «Attention!» and Blade stiffened, right fist clenched on his chest in the formal Targan salute.
Then the main door of the wardroom opened and a man strode through. He was a large man, taller than Blade, and must have weighed close to three hundred pounds. Much of that weight was sheer fat, but he moved so fast and so smoothly that Blade knew there must be plenty of muscle still buried under the fat.
The man wore a pearl-gray uniform with blue trim, black leather boots, a gold mesh belt with a holstered laser pistol, and a high-peaked cap dripping with gold lace. On his chest were four rows of medals, with a pilot's wings perched in solitary splendor above them.
The face above the collar was the most arresting part of the man. Somehow the face had escaped its share of the man's fat. It was thickened, but the harsh lines of the jaw and mouth still showed clearly. The eyes were truly terrifying-large, blue, seeming to look everywhere at once without looking anywhere, the eyes of a man who saw everything and used everything he saw to his own advantage.
There was no doubt about it. This was a man where self-indulgence and cruelty were strong, but intelligence and ruthless ambition were even stronger. He would grab every bit of power Targa gave him, then reach out to the stars for more.
Blade would have guessed most of this about the man anyway, but he didn't have to guess. He'd seen too many pictures not to recognize Loyun Chard.
Chapter 22
Dark Warrior and her escorts were several hours out into space on the way to the asteroid before Blade could get back to the boarding party and tell them the news.
The Targans couldn't dance, sing, or cheer. There wasn't room to dance and singing or cheering might be overheard. In any case the expressions on their faces told Blade clearly enough what the new situation meant to them.
Having Loyun Chard himself aboard Dark Warrior opened the dazzling possibility of not just destroying the man's prize ship but of killing him outright. Like most tyrants he'd carefully avoided picking an heir, for fear the man might become ambitious to take over too soon. In fact he'd used the traditional tactics of playing off his various key supporters against one another. If Chard died aboard Dark Warrior, his supporters would immediately split into several suspicious and hostile factions. Each would control part of the armed forces, but none would have a decisive edge.
That of course would mean civil war on Targa, but for once the underground people didn't seem to care. Blade's major problem was persuading them not to storm the VIP quarters and try to kill Chard at once. That took another hour of desperate low-voiced argument. If Riyannah hadn't supported him, Blade might not have been able to win the argument.
«Blade and I want Chard's head as badly as you do,» she said irritably. «Stop accusing us of being weak! It's just that we want to make sure we get it, not throw away our best chance by acting too soon.
«Consider. Right now we're only a few hours from Targa and there isn't a friendly warship within twenty million miles. The Security black-boys will have all their attention on guarding the leader and they outnumber us three to one.
«If we attack now, Chard can climb into one of the lifeboats and be safe aboard an escort ship long before we reach him. We'd lose our chance of getting him and maybe even our chance of crippling Dark Warrior. Then she certainly would be used for wiping out the underground's bases!