Corina felt a curiosity as strong as her own, and hastened to say, "I
do not think I should discuss it until Ranger Medart tells me I may."
Sunbeam looked dissatisfied, and Corina didn't really blame her. "You
must be something pretty special," the Ensign said. "He comes back
from convalescent leave early, brings you along--wounded--as his
special assistant, puts the ship on Condition Yellow . . . and I bet
you can't talk about any of that, either. Uh, do they hurt? I can
take you to sickbay if they do."
"You cover many things at once," Corina said with amusement. "No, I
cannot talk about it, but no, they do not hurt. The burn just singed
my fur a little. It looks bad, but it is not a problem; I need no
medical attention."
Sunbeam frowned briefly. "Whatever's going on must be big! But okay,
I know about security. If you're sure you're all right, and there's
nothing else, what say we go eat? You could have a meal right here, of
course," she indicated the service panel, "but it's more fun to eat
with others. I usually go to Mess Three; the food's the same
everywhere, but Three's where junior officers mostly eat, Ensigns and
Lieutenants, and it's usually lively. Want to?"
"You are the guide," Corina said, wondering how, if she always talked
this much, Sunbeam managed to eat. Apparently she didn't manage much;
she was quite slender.
* * * * *
Medart did some serious thinking about the young Irschchan while he
waited in the briefing room for Hobison. Like most Rangers, he'd
learned to follow his occasional hunches, and one had hit him on the
way up to the Chang. Corina Losinj was important, both to the Empire
and--on a very personal basis--to a certain James Medart. His hunches
were seldom specific, so he didn't have any idea how or why she was
important, but he was certain she was. That was part of the reason he'd
called her his special assistant, and had her assigned quarters near
his own.