It dragged through a thousand years, that awful instant; an instant so terrible that it made the navigation room swim and dissolve before Jarl Corvett's eyes. Why had his fate brought him here at this final moment? Why must he take his stand just in time to see the Federation fleet blast his one last dream? Desperately, fists clenched and sweating, he tried to calculate how long it would take the racing ships to reach a range where they could use Wassreck's deadly force projectors. Five minutes--? Three? But what did it matter? Whatever the time, it still would be too short. Unless fate had brought him here now for a purpose; unless the gods of the void themselves were riding at his side.... His stomach writhed. With a will born of utter frenzy, he tore his eyes from the screen. The guards and the _Fantay_ officer still stood waiting. _rey_ Gundre was studying him with narrowed eyes. Cold as death, Jarl made himself stride forward. Thrusting stiff hands between the girdle and his belly, once again he spat a stream of crackling gutturals at his foes. But then, the high commissioner was suddenly tensing, backing. "What is this?" he cried sharply. "You're no primitive!" His voice went high and raw. "Guards! Seize him--!" The _Fantay_ lunged. The guards clawed for their ray-guns. But already Jarl was pivoting, whipping a fistful of sand into the officer's eyes. He leaped back as he threw it, so that one guard was between him and the other. Savagely, he hammered home a blow; crowded close and caught the ray-gun's barrel as it cleared the holster, levering it up till it tore free from the creature's tortured grasp. Then the other guard was upon him, smashing him to his knees. But the metal mask broke the force of the blow. Jarl triggered the ray-gun. The beam lanced out, struck home at the base of the bulging jaw. The guard fell backward. Jarl fired again. The _Fantay_ died. But now _rey_ Gundre's own weapon was out. The remaining guard came charging in. Jarl dropped flat as the high commissioner fired. The beam passed over him; blasted the lunging guard. Jarl shot for _rey_ Gundre's weapon. The ray-gun flew out of the high commissioner's hand. Panting, Jarl lurched to his feet. His whole body trembled. For an instant he thought he was going to faint. Then, out of the depths of his will, new strength came. He leveled the ray-gun; held it steady. _rey_ Gundre went white to the lips. Unsteadily, he moved backward, till his body, the palms of his hands, were pressed flat against the wall. He could not seem to tear his eyes from the hideous metal mask Jarl wore. "Is the high commissioner afraid, then--?" Jarl laughed harshly. "Forget it, Gundre, I've things for you to do before you die." "Jarl Corvett--!" The commissioner's eyes went wide with shock, mirror-bright with fear. Jarl laughed again, a bleak and mirthless sound. With his free hand, he unclamped the mask; dropped it to the floor.