Part 23 (1/2)

Nevan hit the far wall feet-first. There was the solid sound of him kicking off again, the scream of a hollow pierced-shaft arrow, the thud of it hitting the small remote-controlled target less than a centimeter from the first. That was repeated half a decade times, with what appeared to be effortless ease.

”Does he ever miss?” Corina asked as the Sandeman continued to shoot.

”I've never heard of it happening, and I'm sure it'd be all over the s.h.i.+p in less than an hour if he did.” Medart chuckled. ”He spends half his free time in combat exercises of one sort or another, after all, not just the minimums for on-duty training. It's not as good as combat, to their way of thinking, but it's better than what we standard humans cla.s.s as normal entertainment.”

The two were silent then, for the couple of minutes it took Nevan to run out of arrows and signal the target controller to end the session.

Then he dove for the floor, used a handhold to pull himself erect, and switched off the gravity neutralizer that isolated the gym from the s.h.i.+p's gravity field.

”Okay,” Medart said. ”That's it; let's get down to the dressing room and wait for him to get into uniform.”

”You stressed the need for speed,” Corina said as they left the observation platform. ”Why do you not speak to him while he changes?

I cannot, I know; having a female around would embarra.s.s 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 embarra.s.s him every bit as much as you would. I was worried about wasting days; we can spare a few minutes.”

”I do not understand, but I would not wish to offend him. We do want his a.s.sistance.”

Medart chuckled. ”Don't worry, you'll get it. Just look at Gaelan's memories if you think there's any chance of a Sandeman warrior pa.s.sing up any kind of honorable combat.”

Corina did, and found herself amused at her doubt. ”I see. But he should still have the opportunity to refuse, with the odds so greatly against the a.s.sault team.”

It wasn't long before the dressing room door opened and Nevan emerged, his blond hair still damp from the shower. He'd caught a glimpse of the two Rangers watching his practice, so he wasn't really too surprised to find them waiting for him, but he was wondering what they wanted with a young First Lieutenant fresh out of the Academy. He came to perfect Guidebook attention, waited.

”At ease, Lieutenant.” Corina purred briefly. This one, she thought, would truly be an a.s.set. ”I must ask if you would be willing to volunteer for a particularly hazardous mission, one from which it is entirely possible no survivors will emerge.” She went on to explain about his mental defenses and the opposition the a.s.sault team would face. She wished she could read his thoughts, but after the first mention of fighting, she had no doubt of his answer; not even Marine discipline could make him hold back a smile, and his eagerness was evident in his steel-gray eyes. ”I believe that is everything,” she said at last. ”The choice is yours, and you may refuse without prejudice.”

For Nevan's opinion of this, see NEVAN

”No, sir. I'm volunteering.”

”Excellent. I will call a briefing as soon as I have spoken to all those who have s.h.i.+elds of adequate strength, and so are eligible for the a.s.sault team. In the meantime you are relieved of normal duty; relax, or do whatever you think best to prepare yourself.”

”Yes, sir.” Nevan came to attention again, waiting.

*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.”

”I'll talk to him if you'd like, since he makes you uncomfortable.”

”No, though I thank you for the offer. I have accepted this job, I will do what it requires. I will speak to him.”

”Right.” Good for her, Medart thought. She'd apparently gotten more from his memories than he'd realized; that sounded like something he'd said once, back in the early days of his own career. Or maybe they were just a lot alike.

Greggson, naturally, was in his office in the Security section. He stood and came to attention as the two Rangers entered, strictly by the book though his expression was cold. ”Yes, sirs?”

Corina explained as she had to Nevan, seeing Greggson's expression become thoughtful as he a.n.a.lyzed the problem. It seemed Jim was right, she thought. This man was a professional, would do his job in spite of his personal opinions. And his s.h.i.+eld was fractionally tighter than Hobison's or Nevan's, though not up to Jim's partially-trained one. ”I believe, Colonel,” she finished, ”that you would be most useful on the team going after Thark, Valla, and Kainor, although that will mean working directly with me. Are you willing to do so?”