"Captain Nevan DarLeras to see Ranger Medart."
"He's expecting you, sir." The Palace Guard opened the door to
Medart's office and stood aside to let the Sandeman pass.
Medart rose to greet his visitor, then gestured him to a chair and sat
back down as Nevan took the seat. "Your note said you'd like to see me
about a personal matter, to be discussed under warrior privacy. What's
the problem?"
"It's not exactly a problem, sir, and I'm not quite sure how to
approach it, even with a battle-companion. You're familiar with our
custom of personal fealty."
That was a statement, not a question, but Medart nodded. "Very
familiar; I'm also battle-companion to Lord Klaes' 'na, Gaelan-Frederick
DarShona. Who are you planning on offering fealty to?" As if he
couldn't guess, he thought.
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. I'll just have to hope she
doesn't accept another 'na before I'm able to give her the kind of
service she needs."
Medart studied the young Sandeman for several moments. "I can do
that," he said at last. "But it's a type of work I think you'd find
distasteful, given your honesty, and given some of your cultural
conditioning, you could find the training for it intolerable. Your
psych profile, though, says you're adaptable enough that you could
accept both, given adequate motivation."
Nevan frowned. "I'm afraid I don't understand, sir. I don't know of
any Imperial job I would find distasteful, much less intolerable."
Medart chuckled. "Sure you do--it's covered at the Academy, though not
in great depth; the fact that you don't even like to think about it
proves my point. But if you can manage the training, I think you'd
make an outstanding field agent."
"Field agent!" Nevan couldn't help it; he grimaced in revulsion.
"Those are--" he hesitated, then decided even one of High War Speech's
worst insults wasn't too strong--"nekulturniy."
Medart grew serious. "Not at all, though I was sure you'd react that
way. Nevan, field agents have as much integrity as anyone else in
Imperial service, and they're necessary. Some investigations are
impossible to carry out openly--trying to find the Melgarie pirates'
base is a case in point. The only way it'll be found and destroyed,
other than by sheer accident, is by infiltration. If it could be done
openly, it's big enough it'd be a Ranger's job; since it can't, field
agents go in. To succeed, an agent will have to convince the pirates
@'s a criminal--probably have to take part in some crimes for that
purpose--to be allowed onto the base at all. Then @'ll have to
convince them @'s trustworthy enough to be allowed access to the base's
defenses to determine their strength, and to communication facilities
to call in a strong enough Navy force to take the base out . . .
preferably coming out alive @self."
Medart paused. He wished he could read the Sandeman's mind, but
Nevan's shield was definitely up. Still, revulsion seemed to have
subsided to dislike, so he continued. "That's lying, probably theft,
maybe murder. But it's the only way we know to eliminate what's become
a major threat to inter-sector commerce, and is rapidly becoming worse.
Let me see if I can put it another way. Field agents are people we can
trust to act against the Empire's short-term interests when, and only
when, that's necessary to protect its long-term ones. It's always a
dangerous job, usually a nasty one, and the agents know very well that
most people share your opinion of them. The only reason they put up
with all that is because they know how necessary it is."
"I . . . never thought of it that way," Nevan said slowly. Sandeman
custom said that any sort of deliberate falsehood or deception was
wrong, a grave dishonor, and he believed that implicitly--but it
sounded like Ranger Medart was telling him that in some cases it was
not only honorable, it was praiseworthy! That was a difficult concept
to absorb--yet a Ranger was as scrupulously honest as a warrior, unless
the Empire's very existence depended on one being otherwise, and Nevan
couldn't imagine a warrior's becoming a field agent was anywhere near
that important.
Another strong consideration was just which Ranger was giving him that
information and advice. 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. "Since you name it both
honorable and the best way to prepare for the service I hope to give
Ranger Losinj, I will do my best to become such an agent." He paused,
went on less formally. "If what you just told me--about field agents
having a position of special trust--was known in Subsector Sandeman,
any whose identity we knew would be honored, not scorned."
"And that's something I hadn't thought of," Medart said. "If you're
willing to waive warrior privacy on that part of our discussion, I'll
be happy to pass it along to your clan-chief, the Vader, and the
Miklos."
"It is waived, but only on that part."
"Understood, warrior." Medart strongly hoped Nevan would make it
through agent's training; outside of the unfortunate but inevitable
warrior's tendency to consider combat a preferred option rather than a
last resort, he had all the qualifications of a Ranger. Whether Rina
accepted his offer of fealty or not, the Empire would have something
it'd never managed before: a Ranger-class field agent. That would
frighten some people if they ever found out about it, Medart thought,
but he found it reassuring--especially since the prospective agent was
a Sandeman warrior. "Would you like me to brief you on the training?"
Nevan thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I'd rather go in
without preconceptions, since you say I'm likely to find parts . . .
not intolerable, since I intend to tolerate them, but extremely
difficult. The fewer details I know, the fewer contingency plans I'll
automatically put together."
"That sounds reasonable," Medart agreed. Especially since a warrior's
contingency plans tended to be violent . . . "Do you have any idea
when you plan to offer fealty?"
"I was thinking of about five years," Nevan said. "I do want as much
experience as I can get, and that's not a lot--but her people are
allergic to the anti-agathics, so I don't dare wait too long."
"True. I'd say that was a reasonable compromise." Rina was a year
younger than Nevan, but he was on anti-agathics and she couldn't
tolerate them; if he didn't get himself killed on the way, he'd
probably outlive her by close to two centuries. "Is there anything
else?"
"No, sir." Nevan stood, bowed. "I thank you for your counsel, Ranger
Medart. Gods permitting, I intend to follow it."
Medart rose and returned the bow. "May they grant you success in both
your training and your offer."
Until next time . . .
[Preparer's note: This is the end of the main story. The material
following this note is the supplementary material linked to from
elsewhere in this file.]