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Updated: June 17, 2025
"I . . . never thought of it that way," Nevan said slowly. Sandeman custom said that any sort of deliberate falsehood or deception was wrong, a grave dishonor, and he believed that implicitly but it sounded like Ranger Medart was telling him that in some cases it was not only honorable, it was praiseworthy!
The reply had been a cautious welcome, along with the information that unless and until they did accept Imperial citizenship they would be met and escorted. That seemed reasonable, so the Sandemans had agreed; Ryan wasn't at all surprised that his ship was met by the IBC Emperor Barton, or that Ranger Ariel invited him and Nevan aboard.
But an enemy would have no hesitation, and until he caught up with Owajima or was caught himself he was acting in that capacity. "If you are convinced Owajima is my target, and you wish to assist me in finding him, you will choose one. Otherwise, you will depart." The businesser looked angry, but Nevan could see he'd expected something of the sort. "The torture, then. When and where?"
Thark switched the blaster to maximum power, placed his soul-blade on the floor, and fired. Then he screamed, a long full-throated yowl of absolute, terrifying loss that subsided to broken whimpers as he collapsed beside the smoking metal that had been a blade. "What " Nevan exclaimed in astonishment. "Psychic shock, Lieutenant," Corina said.
But that, Nevan knew, wasn't possible; while mind-screen, or the stronger mind-shield, and telepathy were common to everyone with Talent, the specialized aspects varied widely from person to person. "Would you like to see your inheritance?" "Very much. The needler and blades in the clothing storage?" Nevan chuckled. "That's them. Do you want to get them, or shall I?"
Corina swallowed an exclamation of awe, trying to remain calm, but she could feel Medart's gaze, and felt certain he knew how the ship affected her. The lander surged slightly as it was gripped by a tractor beam from one of the Chang's equatorial hangars. Nevan released the controls, allowing the beam operator to settle the lander to the deck while hangar doors closed behind them.
Either I'm losing my edge, or you're about to take over the top-ever rating; I should've seen some sign of your entry on the outer lock." "If you had, it would be I who was losing my edge. However, I will take that as a compliment from one who still holds that ranking. Drop your mind-shield." "What? Ohhh." Nevan did so, surprised for an instant though he knew he shouldn't be.
The man had confirmed an opinion Nevan had formed early: given the opportunity, he and Owajima could easily become friends. This man, for instance. He'd owed Owajima a debt, true, but it had been loyalty rather than obligation that had led him to help the way he had. Assuming he was successful in this mission, Nevan thought, he'd have to see the businesser got some sort of compensation.
Nevan addressed a caustic, "Why me?" to the gods he only half-believed in, but it might look suspicious if he turned and left; instead, he kept going with traffic, which took him to a parking area that would need major help to look like a lawn again after being used this way.
And the smell of chocolate chip cookies or a close local equivalent coming from a shop he passed was tempting enough to make his mouth water, but he kept going; Nevan DarLeras' fondness for those was well enough known in the wrong circles that he didn't dare indulge it when he was under cover. Things were definitely not going his way, he decided as he neared the base.
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