Working with other Rangers, then alone: the massive flood that almost
wiped out the Yonar colony, and proved to be sabotage. Taking over the
Chang when Rick was elected Successor, and renewing his acquaintance
with Dave when Captain Hobison took command. The Ondrian affair, with
his new friend Star-flower playing a large part, and a wry thought that
he kept getting involved with cats in one form or another.
The crisis in Sector Five when Sandeman erupted, conquering half that
Sector before its Duke realized she couldn't handle them and called for
Imperial help. The mind-probe of Gaelan, giving her a new insight into
the small warriors, and added respect for their integrity and ability.
Glimpses of many planets, from space and surface. That one spotting of
a huge white ship that disappeared into hyperspace and couldn't be
traced.
The memory of his sorrow at Yasunon's death was enough to make Corina
toss restlessly in bed. She seemed to see the funeral from two
viewpoints at once: her own, the film in history class, and Jim's being
there. Then came the Conclave that elected Forrest as Crown Prince
when Davis became Emperor.
Then war struck. Fragmentary memories of battle flickered by, then
came a chance to capture a Traiti ship. Ray Kennard had come up with
an idea that might keep imprisoned Traiti alive, at least long enough
to be questioned before they succumbed to the prisoner psychosis that
so inevitably killed the ones who could be kept from suicide.
He'd gone with the boarding party despite Hobison's objections. He'd
seen his first live Traiti then, with its leathery gray skin and
sharklike face. Not attractive at all to Medart's way of thinking--
then--but the big male was hurt and in obvious pain; he'd knelt,
intending to help, only to be torn almost in two by the Traiti's claws
and teeth.
And, he found out when he was allowed to regain consciousness after
that week of immersion in rapid-heal, it had been for nothing. The two
prisoners the boarding party did manage to take had lived to reach
Terra before the psychosis set in, no longer.
It was a memory that reeked of failure and self-accusation. He
should've expected that trick; although it wasn't common, it was known.
His carelessness and stupidity could have cost them the ship, cost the
Empire a Ranger it could ill afford to lose, wasted even more lives.
Corina shifted, unable to accept that even in a dream. He was a
Ranger, he had been doing the only thing honor would allow . . .
Then came the interrupted recovery leave on Irschcha, and his meeting
with the young Losinj. In Medart's memory, Corina watched herself
defeat the Marines, studied her own records, discussed them with the
Emperor. Again came the invitation to join the Rangers, but from his
side this time, and the intensity of his emotion was enough to bring
her awake shivering.
She rose and automatically went through her morning routine, then went
to the service panel and got a glass of milk. She sat at the desk,
then, taking occasional sips and thinking. Did she still have a
choice, or did the Empire's need of her make this a matter of honor?
Jim--no, Ranger Medart, though it was now difficult to think of him
that way--would, she knew, leave that question to her. And she was
terribly afraid she knew how she would eventually have to answer.