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Updated: May 13, 2025
I would have expected you to use your strongest ability against me." Both looked toward the entrance as they heard footsteps, and saw Ranger Medart approaching. When he joined them, he said, "I'd like the answer to that one myself." "I did," Corina replied. "Although it would be more precise to say that I used the strongest of my powers he was vulnerable to.
Despite Ryan's instructions, his opponents' best efforts, and his own increasingly urgent attempts over the next month, his control remained erratic. Unfortunately his physical condition didn't remain as stable; it worsened steadily. By the end of that time, Medart had lost close to twenty kilos, and the constant pain allowed him only the sleep his body absolutely had to have.
I would say you in particular; I at least knew of the possibility, though I never thought it would happen to me." Medart chuckled. "Don't be too sure who needs it more. I've been through something similar you studied the Sandeman Annexation, of course." "Of course," Corina agreed, puzzled.
"How would you rate them by comparison, Sir Corina?" Forrest asked. "Thark is stronger, of course; the High Adept, by definition, has the strongest Talent in the Order. The Seniors have approximately my strength, but are better trained since they were raised in Order schools and I was not. They also have far more experience than I do, as Ranger Medart pointed out."
"Not in Irschchans, but it apparently does in humans. I noticed earlier that you, Ranger Medart, and Captain Hobison all have excellent ones, among the best I have felt." Greggson smiled grimly. "Thanks. That's good to know." He went on more softly, muttering to himself, but Corina's hearing made his words clearly audible. "All the most sensitive positions.
Corina was awakened by the whooping of a siren, followed by a surprisingly calm voice on the ship's annunciator. "General Quarters All hands to battle stations. General Quarters man your battle stations. Rangers Medart and Losinj, Palace assault team, to the hangar bay, please." Corina scrambled out of bed and into her kilt. "Emperor Chang!" The ship-comp's voice was unchanged.
Chavvorth blew out the candle, his expression bemused, and put it down. "That was more . . . dramatic than I had expected, Ranger." "A hell of a lot more than I expected," Medart said. "Let me see your hand." The Traiti obeyed. Medart took it, concentrating again but this time it was a familiar, trained ability he called on. Redness faded, vanished; he released the hand. "There.
*You'll have to dismiss him,* Medart sent. *He's still Academy-stiff, hasn't relaxed to Fleet standards yet.* *Thank you.* "Dismissed, Lieutenant." Corina watched him leave, purring softly in satisfaction that he, at least, was happy. Then her ears went back slightly, and she turned to Medart. "I can no longer put it off. We must speak to Colonel Greggson."
All three waited silently until the door slid open again, to admit the Sanctioner chief. He wasted no time getting to the point. "You have no right to interfere in purely planetary matters," he said. "I must require the return of Losinj and Entos." "You're wrong on two counts," Medart said coldly.
If he had to fight a duel, Medart thought, at least he had a good day for it. The weather at Vader clanhome was clear and sunny, the temperature a comfortable twenty degrees as he stood waiting for his opponent in the outdoor practice arena. And he was in uniform; Ryan had brought one from his courier ship even had it tailored for his weight loss in case he needed it as his ceremonials.
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