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Corina had also dropped at the warning; now both Rangers stood. She turned to the Sandeman. "How did you do that?" Nevan gave a tiny shrug. "I heard @, probably. Or saw a flash of kilt, I can't be sure. Since I knew it wasn't one of our people, I fired." Medart managed a chuckle, despite the circumstances. "They call it combat instinct, Rina but I'm beginning to think it's an aspect of Talent."

No Sandeman had ever studied here, and he was aware of only one who had successfully completed field agent training his predecessor as top agent, Nevan DarLeras, now sworn to the Crown Princess by the totally-binding Sandeman personal-fealty oath. That left a graduate of one of those two schools as DarLowrie's teacher.

That probe verified Medart's deductions and gave him enough more information on the Sandeman culture that he persuaded the Baron to declare Mjolnir a neutral zone, invited the Sandeman leaders to a conference and called in the other four Rangers, also with battle fleets, to provide a show of force.

Among his other accomplishments, he was responsible for both the successful human-Irschchan settlement of Ondrian and the end of the Sandeman Incursion in Sector Five, which resulted in Subsector Sandeman's joining the Empire." "Which in turn led to a high percentage of their warriors in the Imperial military or serving as contract police forces on various worlds," Thark said.

One of his later tutors was Mr. Samuel Newton, an Independent minister and a follower of Sandeman, "a celebrated north country apostle, who, after Calvin had damned ninety-nine in a hundred of mankind, has contrived a scheme for damning ninety-nine in a hundred of the followers of Calvin."

Shouts and weapon-fire interrupted her descent into peace, something she resented even as she knew it meant safety for her thakur and perhaps for herself. Then someone knelt beside her, and even with pain blurring her vision, she could tell it was a Sandeman; that dark skin and blond hair didn't belong to any of their attackers. "Warrior . . ." she managed to whisper. "Yes, Garvey DarTorrance.

He should be able to find treats he liked almost as well as chocolate chip cookies, but ones that wouldn't blow his cover. He walked toward the exhibit-covered landing field, glad that he'd kept his identity as a Sandeman warrior; as crowded as the area was, he was given plenty of room to move. He was impressed despite himself by the exhibits, too.

We don't have any teachers who can give you control of that much power without limiting it the only ones who might even come close are the Sandemans, and they're not likely to want to help an Imperial." "In that case, I'd like the fastest small ship available something on the order of a courier with a volunteer crew, to take me to Sandeman territory.

Eventually they got word the conference was convening, and took her to Alanna's com room, where she recognized Miklos' arms on the screen. As far as she knew, the last time that communications-specialist clan had agreed to call an all-planet conference was just before Sandeman was brought into the Empire; it was difficult to believe she was the reason for calling another.

That, and the fact that a Sandeman hired killer shouldn't display the subtleties and precautions that would mark him as having had Imperial training of any sort, particularly a field agent's training; the two simply didn't go together. A tall man in Marine service dress with captain's bars approached Nevan's table, carrying a drink. "Mind if I join you, warrior?" he asked. "If you wish, Captain."