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Nevan was relieved at the Ranger's calm response. "I would like to serve Ranger Losinj, but she doesn't need an inexperienced young officer, even a warrior. Since I've been given my choice of assignments, I was hoping you'd help me pick one that will give me the kind of experience she's likely to need.
*Until then, Thakur.* The contact ended, and Nevan grinned up at his captor. "Satisfied, Major?" "Perfectly, warrior. And I will accept your offer of a ride." Owajima holstered his gun, then undid Nevan's bonds. "I have wished to meet you for some time; I regret only the circumstances." Nevan sat up, rubbing his wrists. "Same here, maybe more so.
James Medart played a prominent role in Sandeman history, one of the few standard humans they accepted as being on a par with their warrior caste, and the one person they credited with making their entry into the Empire on an honorable basis possible; his words were to be given more than ordinary value. After several moments' silence, Nevan nodded.
No co-pilot's necessary on a surface-to-orbit hop, and you'll get a good view from there." He turned to his bodyguard, who was also the lander's pilot. "Nevan, would you help Ms. Losinj strap in, please?" "Aye, sir." Nevan, now in Marine black, bent over the young Irschchan. "Here . . . this goes across your lap, and these two over your shoulders, all to the same buckle.
He'd been lucky enough not to get caught in such a situation during his active career; maybe that luck would hold long enough for him to get out of this one. "Nevan!" The happy voice from behind him made it all too clear his luck had changed. He turned and bowed respectfully to the approaching warriors'-woman in Imperial Marine service black. "Good day, Lady Morna. You're looking well."
But he should still have the opportunity to refuse, with the odds so greatly against the assault team." It wasn't long before the dressing room door opened and Nevan emerged, his blond hair still damp from the shower.
Curious, Nevan walked around the ship until he found its ID and then he sent another caustic comment to one of the newest gods. *Dammit, Kelly, if you want me to deliver your blades to Owajima, how about some cooperation instead of all these problems?* The destroyer was the IHD Warleader Riordan, a ship from the Fiftieth Fleet, which meant it was crewed primarily by Sandemans.
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.
First humans with shields blades, with Talent! and now Losinj a Ranger? "No!" "It is true, Thark. I am placing you under arrest for treason against the Empire." Thark started to answer, was interrupted by gunfire. The Sanctioner holding Kennard had let the human fall to go for his blaster; Nevan dropped him, Valla, and three others while Medart shot Kainor and the remaining Sanctioner.
That was conclusive enough for Owajima; if, contrary to all other evidence, DarLeras had gone renegade, he would have removed the tattoo rather than simply covering it. When Nevan woke, he was spread-eagled, tied to his bunk with a grim-faced Oriental man holding a gun on him.
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