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Updated: June 9, 2025
On something as useful as a controlled-length laser beam, that's quite an advantage last I heard, Clan Vader was one of the richest groups in the Empire. And probably the only one that amount of money didn't change much." "Why should it change?" Medart laughed. "No reason, really, but most people who suddenly get a lot of money do change." "In here most people aren't Sandemans."
With that, the picture changed to show a hospital room, its only patient a red-haired Terran woman. Dana recognized herself, wincing at what the Sandemans must think, but she remained silent. The hospital room was replaced by Hurley's face again. "That took place this morning, medcenter time.
I was after you in particular because my bio-father left you his personal weapons when he died last month." "Oh? Knowing Sandemans, I assume there was a reason." "Uh-huh. He was the one you gave need-release to on Piper's World." "Ah." Owajima smiled.
But he'd worn similar clothing during the Mjolnir Conference, with the Sandemans there thinking it appropriate for his rank: silvery shirt, emerald-green pants, black uniform boots and equipment/weapons belt, topped by his green, silver-fringed arms baldric with his arms pin on the left shoulder.
It was mildly amusing to see that the Sandemans gave him the same cautious respect he'd give a battleprepped warrior; maybe the drugs brought him closer to that state than he'd thought. It seemed like hours before he heard, then saw, the boxy transport null-grav craft bringing his opponent. That, in his edgy condition, was more of a relief than the threat he'd expected to feel.
"But we have also learned, from the tiny ferocious ones who themselves Sandemans call, that Rangers only devious are when there no other choice is. And you no reason for deception have." "More precisely, we'll be misleading when it's in the Empire's interest which isn't often.
That bore an uncomfortable resemblance to a particularly observant person's reaction to someone who was reading @'s face and body language. That was not a common skill, particularly among Sandemans though he had to admit it would be as useful a skill for an assassin as it was for a field agent.
"Why do you not speak to him while he changes? I cannot, I know; having a female around would embarrass a human male." "Or vice versa." Medart grinned. "And Sandemans are even worse than most that way. They don't even like to strip for a medical exam which they hate in the first place. I'd embarrass him every bit as much as you would. I was worried about wasting days; we can spare a few minutes."
"You do know about the genetic engineering that was done to create the Sandemans, particularly their warriors?" Both his listeners nodded. "Good but at the time, no one except the Sandemans themselves knew, and they had no intention of divulging that information, especially the weakness the engineers had intended as a control mechanism.
Sandemans as enemies, though, was a total reversal of something that had been a given for over a century and a quarter. And Sandemans who'd had that extra time to grow and advance technologically and magically, he was sure would be an awesome enemy. "From what Ranger Ariel said," Medart started, "I gather you ran into the Sandemans about three years ago.
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