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Updated: May 9, 2025
If the Academy accepts me, I will be able to travel, always finding out new things . . . meeting people of all races and species . . ." Her voice trailed off, and Medart was struck by the sudden enthusiasm and warmth replacing her normal controlled formality. No, he mused, she'd never be happy in a society as static as Irschcha's, even as a member of its ruling elite.
The Intelligence Division got the most difficult cases the Sanctioners had to cope with, and since they were Irschcha's military, as well as its police, the variety of such cases was truly remarkable. It was tempting, though she questioned whether she would be able to do well at it. "I have not yet finished school," she objected. "I have not forgotten.
Corina returned her attention to Davis. "I assume my next task, then, will be bringing Irschcha's government into conformity with the rest of the Empire?" "That's right. You're head of the White Order now, so you'd have less trouble than anyone else.
Ranger James Medart was stretched out on a lawn lounger, basking in the warmth of Irschcha's sun only meters from the lander that was now serving him as a vacation cabin. Convalescent leave had its good points, he thought drowsily. He hadn't been this relaxed since before the war and not often then.
I believe I know what Master Thark has in mind, and it is important to Irschcha's future that the results not be distorted." Thark looked from her to the Sandeman, reached out gently, and touched the strongest shield he had ever felt. "You, too," he said in resignation. "Guard her well, warrior." Nevan bowed.
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