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He could only wait, work, and hope. Thark landed the Prowler at the rendezvous on Rendavi slightly over eighteen hours after leaving Irschcha. He was well rested and in a cheerful mood as he, Kainor, and Valla left the ship for the improvised conference hall. No other ships were there yet. Unfortunate, Thark thought.
We dare not fail, for if we do, the galaxy will continue under human rule, their lack of Talent causing them to stumble from crisis to crisis, a whisker's width from disaster and complete chaos at any moment. Worse, they will drag us along with them. It is symptomatic that except for Irschcha itself, our people have no voice in Imperial government.
Corina shifted, unable to accept that even in a dream. He was a Ranger, he had been doing the only thing honor would allow . . . Then came the interrupted recovery leave on Irschcha, and his meeting with the young Losinj. In Medart's memory, Corina watched herself defeat the Marines, studied her own records, discussed them with the Emperor.
They have, after all, ruled Irschcha for over five millennia, and according to Thark, brought about peace and order for most of it. He feels honor-bound to do the same for the rest of the galaxy." "Looks to me more like stagnation," Medart commented. "You've had space travel for more than what, two of those millennia? but when MacLeod found you, you were still system-bound.
I promised them they'd keep their own government so they could stop fighting and join the Empire, and the White Order ruling Irschcha was one of the convincers. Only their Lords know how they'll react to this they've only been part of the Empire for six weeks." "It's touchy, all right," Medart agreed.
"If we succeed, however when we succeed we will bring the Empire the same peace and stability the White Order has brought Irschcha since its triumph. The humans may find it difficult to accept at first they seem to actually enjoy disorder but they will soon come to realize the superiority of rule by the Talented.
"We have a VIP guest, Ms. Corina Losinj of Irschcha. Ranger Medart wants her assigned a cabin near his. What's available?" "There is one next to his," the ship-comp replied. "3N-2-1-8 is free." "Great! Take us there, will you?" "Affirmative. Is there anything else?" "No, thanks." "Chang out." The shuttle began to move, and Sunbeam turned to Corina.
Delete all security restrictions from the individual identified by that code, and relay to any peripherals that Corina Losinj of Irschcha has been selected as a Ranger." "Acknowledged. Request formal voiceprint from Ranger Losinj." Medart nodded to Corina, smiling. "Go ahead, Rina." Corina glanced at him, then decided she liked both the nickname and his use of it. "Thank you, Jim.
"She's agreed to give any help she can, sir, as I said, and that includes briefing me on Talent." "Good. I'll alert the nobility, have them take extra precautions since they're bound to be targets. You're on-scene; do you think I should have a fleet cordon off Irschcha itself?" "No, sir," Medart replied. "Thark's smart, we know that.
In the second, if the Order wishes me dead, there is no safety for me anywhere on Irschcha." "I don't know," Dawson said skeptically. "All I've really heard about the White Order is that they rule this planet with some sort of strange power they refuse to talk about. I think you're underestimating the Marines."
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