"Go ahead. I will be fine."
The young ensign left, but her hesitation seemed to inflame Greggson
still further. "You don't give orders aboard this ship, Sir Corina,"
he said coldly. "Not even if you are Ranger Medart's special
assistant. You have no military authority."
"I merely reassured Ensign Yamata of my welfare," Corina retorted,
controlling her own anger. "Ranger Medart did assign her to me; from
what I have read, that places her under my command, despite my lack of
military rank. She is a most conscientious officer, and--"
She fell silent when Greggson stepped toward her, his right hand
closing into a fist. Surely he would not strike her . . . but he was
angry, and a Marine, and shielded-- Her hand, seemingly of its own
volition, went to the hilt of her soul-blade as she felt a surge of
fear.
"No." Greggson shook his head, backed off a step with visible
reluctance. "I won't give you the satisfaction, you little--"
Corina interrupted, fear suddenly overcome by exasperation. "It is not
your men's pride that concerns you, Colonel; they felt no shame, as
they should not. It is your own. You ought to be pleased to have
accurate knowledge of your enemy's abilities. Should I have let your
men defeat me, merely to save your pride, then allow them to go against
Thark believing him to be as easy a target? I merely stunned them; he
will be trying to kill them."
She turned and stalked out under Greggson's furious glare, shaking
inwardly at her defiance of him despite its necessity. What was it
about her that made him loathe her so? She was not human, granted, but
that seemed too minor a reason for such disturbance. It was out of
proportion for him to take offense at her very existence. That made
his presence discomforting, and it was a definite relief to walk
through the door and rejoin Sunbeam.
"He really hates you, Sir Corina," Sunbeam said as they left the
Security area. "It isn't just not liking you any more. He's awfully
proud of his work--I think it's all he has--and it looks like he took
your demonstration personally." The young ensign was clearly worried.
"He may try to cause you serious trouble. I ought to tell Ranger
Medart."
"I see no need to bother him with it," Corina said. "I appreciate your
concern, but I believe you worry too much. Colonel Greggson knows my
status here; he will not harm me."
She didn't have to probe to feel Sunbeam's doubt, but all her escort
said was, "You're probably right." Then Sunbeam glanced at her chrono.
"Uh-oh, better get you to the briefing room; it's 1545 already!"
They arrived at Briefing Room One with a few minutes to spare, and
Sunbeam left while Corina entered. She was looking forward to the
meeting, if only for the chance to sit down and rest her feet.
The briefing room, she saw at once, had been completely rearranged.
The standard conference table and the holo stage were gone, replaced by
a semi-circular table. Its flat side had been put against the wall,
just under a screen that was normally used to display graphic aids.
Chairs lined the curved edge, already occupied by the officers who had
been at the earlier meeting. Greggson had somehow arrived before her,
and was seated two places to Medart's left. The Ranger was in the
middle of the semi-circle, one empty chair at his right. He motioned
Corina to it, then stood and called the group to attention as the
screen flickered with scrambler blue, and cleared.
Corina recognized both men on the screen at once, from innumerable
photos and holograms. The one on the right, in civilian clothes, was
Emperor Charles Davis. He looked rather tired, she thought, but
between the Traiti War and Thark's Crusade, she thought, he had every
reason to be fatigued.
The one on the left, in Ranger uniform, was Crown Prince Rick Forrest.
He didn't look quite as tired, she thought, but there was still strain
on his face.
"As you were," the Emperor said. The conferees sat, and Davis
continued. "This is a war council, not an Audience, so we'll skip the
ceremony and get to work. Sir Corina, you have the Empire's thanks for
your courageous and timely warning. Can you give us any further idea
of when this rebellion will start, or where?"
Corina took a deep mental breath, feeling badly out of her depth. "Not
with any degree of certainty, Your Majesty."
"Any guesses?" Forrest asked.
"Guesses? Yes, sir. If Thark reacts as usual, I would expect the
Order to strike as soon as possible, perhaps within five or ten days.
He tends, as he admits, to be somewhat impatient, and that will be even
more true since his treason has been revealed before he was ready. The
location is more difficult, since the Order will undoubtedly have
multiple targets. He himself will take the center of power, of course--"
"He'd try for the Palace?" Davis interrupted. "He'd know better than
that. It's much too heavily defended, especially after Tarlac's
assassination."
Blades! Corina thought nervously. How to contradict the Emperor? Not
easily, not if you were a youngling with a strong desire to crawl under
the table and hide! Being teased about arguing with him was one thing,
actually having to do it something far different. She had no choice,
though. "Its guards, however numerous, are humans and unTalented
Irschchans, perhaps a few Traiti. They will be little or no defense
against Thark and the Seniors of the Prime Chapter, even if some few
have mind-screens or shields. Nor can you count on mechanical
defenses; they are operated by your Palace Guard, which renders them as
vulnerable as the guards themselves. If compelling a Guardswen is not
possible, controls can be operated by TK."
Davis frowned, while Medart sent her encouragement. *Good going. He
won't bite you. And don't think about hiding under the table; you're
doing fine.*
*I think otherwise,* she sent back, though she was grateful for his
support. *I am frightened!*
*So?* Medart replied. *You're functioning just fine anyway.*
"Aren't you perhaps overestimating their abilities?" the Emperor asked
quietly.
"No, sir, she's not," Medart answered for her. "You saw the tape of
yesterday's demonstration; if a young student could take out this
ship's top five Security people, including a mind-shielded Sandeman
warrior, I find it very easy to believe that a group, all of whom have
the degree of experienced Talent she describes, could take even the
Palace. She says her Talent is above average, but so are theirs."
"How would you rate them by comparison, Sir Corina?" Forrest asked.
"Thark is stronger, of course; the High Adept, by definition, has the
strongest Talent in the Order. The Seniors have approximately my
strength, but are better trained since they were raised in Order
schools and I was not. They also have far more experience than I do, as
Ranger Medart pointed out."
"You're the only expert we have on the Order," Davis said. "How would
you recommend we defend the Palace?"
"As it stands, Your Majesty, the Palace cannot be defended from such an
attack." Corina hesitated, unwilling to go on.
*Finish it,* Medart urged her.
*They will not like it,* Corina thought nervously, but she said, "My
recommendation, under these circumstances, is that Your Majesty and
Prince Forrest leave Terra in a ship crewed fully by humans, its
destination unknown to anyone not aboard, and remain there until Thark
and the Order are no longer a threat."
A murmur around the conference table was disapproving.
"I don't like the idea of running," the Emperor said, "but I can't deny
it's the logical thing to do. Ranger Medart?"
"How sure are you that it'll be Thark himself and the Prime Chapter
after the Palace?" Medart asked Corina.
"I am positive," she said. "He will not risk failure by using less
than the best against his most important target."
Medart nodded, then returned his attention to the screen. "In that
case, I'd say to follow her recommendation, sir. Your safety's a lot
more important than the Palace Complex--and if he does move against the
Palace itself, we'll have unarguable proof of his and the Order's
treason."
"Very well." Davis didn't look happy, Corina thought, but he did look
decisive. "We will leave on the Empress Lindner as soon as this
conference is over, then. Kennard and Menshikov are here; I'll leave
them in charge. Anything else?"
"Leaving them will place them at hazard, sire," Corina ventured.
"I'm aware of that," Davis said. "I'd prefer not to, but there are
other things I have to consider. The Sovereign is prohibited from
risking @'s life if there's any choice, and the Successor should not
except in a critical emergency when no other Ranger is available, so
Rick and I are expected to think of our own safety first. But--give me
your opinion as an ordinary citizen, Sir Corina. How would you feel if
all four of us fled to safety, leaving the Palace Guards to face a
rebellion alone?"
Corina thought about that, then inclined her head. "I see, Your
Majesty. While it would be the sensible thing to do, it would give the
impression of not caring about those who serve you."
"Which is precisely why they'll be staying. Ranger Medart, you look
like you have something on your mind."
"Yes, sir." Medart looked up, at nothing in particular. "Unless
they're intercepted and destroyed, which isn't very likely," he said
quietly, "someone is going to have to face Thark and the Seniors. Sir
Corina says the Guards won't have a chance, and Kennard and Menshikov
are no more qualified to do it than I am."
Corina suddenly felt completely exposed and completely alone. At his
words, everyone except Medart himself had turned to stare at her.
"No!" She shook her head, keeping herself from yowling by sheer force
of will. "I cannot--I am not good enough--"
"Wrong," Davis said. "I'd hoped Ranger Medart could persuade you, but
he obviously hasn't been able to; may I ask why?"
"I have just said, sire. I will do everything I can to help--I am
doing it--but I am not qualified for that."
Davis shook his head. "You're the only one who has even a chance
against Thark, and you're as qualified as any of the rest of us to be a
Ranger--maybe more so, as Ranger Medart told me, with that Talent of
yours. None of us asked for this job, and none of us felt capable of
handling it at first. You can do what we cannot. Will you face Thark
for us, as a Ranger?"
Corina remained silent, overwhelmed by his intensity.
"Let me," Medart said quietly. "Corina, you came to us originally
because your honor--the part of it we call loyalty--demanded it. It
wouldn't let you permit Thark to destroy the Empire. Right?"
"Yes." Her answer was almost inaudible.
"Will that same honor let you stop now, when you know you're the only
chance the Empire has?" That might be putting it a bit strongly,
Medart thought--but after her demonstration, it might also be the
precise truth.
She stared down at the table for what seemed like eons before she was
able to answer. "No."
Looking up, she continued. "You are correct. I will face Thark. But
I see no need to do so as a Ranger."
Tension built in the silent room as Corina thought. It wasn't fair,
she felt. They were trying to . . . perhaps force was not the right
word, but urge her into something she did not feel capable of. It was
almost impossible for her to accept the idea that feeling unqualified
was part of what made her qualified. It did not seem reasonable. And
it was just too much!
Medart answered her unspoken thoughts. "No, it isn't fair. And the
reasoning may not be obvious, but from our experience, it is logical."
"This is just as much a war as the one we fought with the Traiti,"
Forrest added, with a curious glance at Medart. "Even though the
Empire tries to be fair, Sir Corina, we can't always manage, especially
in this kind of emergency."
"Take some more time, Sir Corina," Emperor Davis said suddenly,
sounding sympathetic. Forrest threw him a quick glance, so Davis
continued. "It was a hard enough decision for us. She's already had
to go through one drastic change; we can't expect her to accept the
idea of an even more drastic one so easily or quickly."