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Battle ever written by the Nexus, for the Nexus did not teach
suicide tactics. Suicide? Yes, it was surely suicide to kill one's
ship way out in the wastelands of intergalactic space, far from
any star or any planet. How long could life survive on the dead
hulk of a ship which had lost its asmas? Ten days? Twenty? It made
no difference. Everyone on board would die, and sooner rather than
later, dying when food ran out, or water, or air.
        "Suit up," said Asodo Hatch. "Everyone on the bridge is to
suit up and join the rest of the ship's complement. Suit up - and
prepare to board."
        Prepare to board.
        An electrifying command!
        Asodo Hatch was going to lead his men into battle and fight
Lupus Lon Oliver hand to hand, weapon to weapon, face to face.
Hatch was going to meet Lupus Lon Oliver in close quarters battle.
        Back in Forum Three, the assorted beggars, wives, relatives,
friends, Startroopers and Combat Cadets were absorbed by a
multiscreen view of the proceedings. Each and every one of them
could understand what was going on, for the entertainments of the
Eye of Delusions - garish and inaccurate though they were - had
long tutored Dalar ken Halvar in starwarrior dramas. So everyone
in Forum Three understood that Hatch and Lupus each commanded a
ship; that the ships were now dead, and sliding helplessly through
deep space on a collision course; and that Hatch was getting ready
to lead his men into battle.
        Beggar Grim and his friends passed their Eye between them,
seeing (or pretending to see) the drama which was unfolding before
them. Hatch was giving orders, marshaling troops, explaining
plans. Meanwhile, on the opposing ship -

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