A Matter of Honor: A Terran Empire novel

  II

  Corina woke with a splitting headache, the characteristic aftereffectof being hit with a neural stunner. Groaning, she opened her eyes andfound herself in what, except for the straps holding her in place, wasa fairly comfortable, if too large, armchair. A Terran in Marine blackservice dress uniform sat behind a large metal desk, holding a blasteraimed casually in her direction. Her soul-blade lay beside his lefthand.

  She suppressed the rage she dared not show at that sight. It had beenbad enough earlier, when the Sanctioner had taken her blade, but atleast he had been an Irschchan and understood its significance. To aTerran, it was nothing but a simple dagger, with no more personalmeaning than a kitchen knife.

  Not that they could understand, she thought, forcing herself to calm.They had no Talent, no way to sense the owner's mind-pattern, impressedon the blade at an Irschchan's coming-of-age ceremony.

  She could retrieve it telekinetically--that part of her Talent wasweak, but the blade was hers--then decided quickly against that idea.The man holding the blaster did not look like the type to tolerate anymisbehavior from his prisoner, and she had no desire to test herestimate of his character.

  He gave her a few seconds to evaluate the situation before he spoke."Okay, you're awake. Now tell me what the hell that was all about."

  "He was trying to kill me," Corina replied.

  "We guessed that much," the Terran said. "I want to know why."

  "May I know who you are?"

  "Yeah, you people like formality, don't you?" The man shrugged. "Whynot? I'm Major Patrick Dawson, Security Division of the ImperialMarines, on temporary duty from the Emperor Chang. You?"

  Corina managed as much of a polite bow as she could. "Greetings, MajorDawson. I am Corina Losinj, until today a student of High Adept Thark.Entos was trying to kill me before I could report treason against theEmpire, in the form of a rebellion by the White Order. Thark isleading it himself."

  Dawson's expression looked to Corina like a combination of astonishmentand disbelief. "Rebellion? The White Order against the whole Empire?That's impossible."

  "I assure you, Major, it is quite possible. Or Thark believes it is,which is effectively the same thing."

  "Um." Dawson was silent for a few seconds, then said, "Well, it soundscrazy to me, but it isn't something we can risk not checking out." Heholstered the blaster. "The other one, Entos--is he in the Order?"When Corina nodded, he punched a number on the desk intercom.

  "Interrogation, Captain Daley." Corina couldn't see the screen, but itsounded like a human female. "Oh, hi, Pat. What can I do for you?"

  "You could run a mindprobe on the other Irschchan who was brought in.The one I'm interviewing claims the reason he was trying to kill herwas that he's involved in a treason plot."

  "You got it," the woman said grimly. "Do you want yours probed too?"Dawson thought for a moment, then shook his head. "By the time you'redone, Ranger Medart should be here, and he can make that decision--shewas the one being attacked, so the odds are she's innocent. If that'swrong, or if the Ranger wants her probed for more information, it canbe done once he's here."

  "I copy. I'll let you know what I find out."

  "Appreciate it." Dawson broke that connection, immediately punched inanother number.

  "Communications, Commspec First Carlson, sir," came the reply.

  "This is Major Dawson. Can you get me Ranger Medart, Securitypriority?"

  "It'll take a couple of minutes, sir. I'll have to patch through theChang to his lander."

  "That's fine--just do your best."

  * * * * *

  Ranger James Medart was stretched out on a lawn lounger, basking in thewarmth of Irschcha's sun only meters from the lander that was nowserving him as a vacation cabin. Convalescent leave had its goodpoints, he thought drowsily. He hadn't been this relaxed since beforethe war--and not often then. Laying here in swim trunks, it was hardto believe he'd been damn near torn in half not much more than twomonths ago.

  But he had been, trying to help one of the then-enemy, a gray-skinnedTraiti. Oh, well. The war was over, thanks to Steve Tarlac, and theTraiti were Imperial citizens, while he was supposed to beconcentrating on recovering his strength. He stood, called to thelander. "I'm going for a swim."

  A blond head looked around the edge of the lander's open hatch."Right, sir. I just got my suit on; I'll play lifeguard."

  "Whatever you say, Nevan." Medart sketched a salute, grinning at theyoung Sandeman warrior who was one of his bodyguard. Then he turned,taking a running dive into the Colvis Reserve's main attraction forhumans, Clear Lake.

  He swam straight out, with a leisurely sidestroke that took him in thedirection of the resort across the lake. He had no intention of goingthat far, or of seeing anyone except his bodyguards; a week in a tankof rapid-heal, followed by over a month of therapy and constantattention, left him with a strong desire for some privacy.

  He'd been swimming for perhaps half an hour, enjoying himselfthoroughly, when he heard Nevan calling him. The warrior wouldn'tinterrupt his swim without good reason; he waved acknowledgement andheaded for shore, wondering what was up.

  Nevan didn't look too happy, the Ranger thought as he waded out of thelake, and that was a bad sign. "What is it?"

  "A call from the Planetary Palace, sir, security priority. MajorDawson is on the screen."

  "Damn. All right." Security priority was never good news; Medartwondered just how bad it was this time. He accepted the towel Nevanwas holding out, began drying himself as he went to the lander andclimbed in. Then he dropped the towel, grabbed his uniform shirt from ahanger by the door, and put it on before going to the lander'scomscreen. "What's up, Major?"

  Dawson repeated what Corina had told him, adding, "Sergeant Orloff saidshe was definitely the one being attacked, sir. I asked for amindprobe to be run on the attacker."

  Well, Medart thought with brief regret, there went his leave. Couldn'tbe helped, though. "Good work. Hold off on Losinj; I'd rather notprobe someone trying to help us unless there's no other choice." Hegrinned, wolflike. "If somebody thinks she's worth killing to keep herfrom us, she's got to be valuable--I'll be there in about two hours,and I'll stop by Interrogation before I join you. Medart out."

  * * * * *

  Dawson switched off, looked at Corina. "I'm curious about one thing.Why didn't you call instead of coming in? If you're right, we'd havegotten the information sooner, and you'd have been safer; I could havesent a squad of Marines to escort you here for protection. You'd havebeen in no danger."

  "I am afraid that is not the case, Major. In the first place, therewas no place I could call from. In the second, if the Order wishes medead, there is no safety for me anywhere on Irschcha."

  "I don't know," Dawson said skeptically. "All I've really heard aboutthe White Order is that they rule this planet with some sort of strangepower they refuse to talk about. I think you're underestimating theMarines."

  "Talent is not discussed outside the Order, except with potentialinitiates," Corina said. "At least it has not been until now; I mustinform you of what they can do. It is you who underestimate them."

  Dawson shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. Either way, I don't have theauthority to deal with a major rebellion; you might as well wait tillRanger Medart gets here, and tell him."

  Corina nodded, and Dawson went back to the report he'd evidently beenstudying when she was brought in. She tried a probe of him, finding aweak, almost-nonexistent mind-screen. It was not a real barrier, andher reasons were compelling, so she probed deeper. Human mind patternswere too murky to make this sort of thing a pleasure, but she scannedanyway, for information about this Ranger Medart. She knew, as dideveryone, about Rangers in general--that they were the Sovereign'srepresentatives, wielding Imperial authority at need--but she had toknow about this specific one.

  Dawson, unfortunately, knew little. Although he did serve aboa
rdMedart's cruiser, he was not very familiar with the Command Crew orRanger. All she could get was his feeling of respect, bordering onawe--much, she thought, the way she had felt about Thark until thismorning.

  Dawson did not expect any trouble from the Order here inside thePalace, she noted, and found herself agreeing. Thark was not likely torisk compromising the Crusade by a frontal attack now. There wouldprobably be an attempt, though, to have her returned as a criminal, asthe Sanctioner had threatened.

  Perhaps an hour passed before the intercom chimed. Dawson answered,and Corina overheard Captain Daley's report.

  "Just finished that mind-probe you asked for, Pat. He was trying tokill Losinj, all right. His orders came from Senior Valla; she toldhim Losinj was betraying the Order. He also knows about the existenceof a Crusade, which is what they call this rebellion. I couldn't getany details, though. And when he woke up, he somehow managed to knockout a couple of my technicians without even touching them. I had tohit him with another stunner, and I'm going to keep him under until Iget orders to the contrary."

  "Uh-huh, that confirms what she told me. He probably doesn't haveenough rank to know any details. Was he the only one?"

  There was a grim laugh from the intercom. "Hardly! From what I got,every Order member on Irschcha is either out to kill her themselves orreport her whereabouts to the Sanctioners so one of them can do it."

  "Thanks, Joanie, that's a big help." Dawson switched off the intercomand turned to Corina. "That exonerates you, Ms. Losinj. There's nomore need to confine you." He touched a switch on the desk, and therestraining straps retracted into the armchair.

  "Since I am proven innocent, may I have my blade back?" Corinacouldn't keep a note of pleading out of her voice.

  Dawson looked at her sharply. "It means that much to you? Well, Idon't see why not; take it."

  "I thank you." Corina retrieved the blade, ran her fingers gentlyalong it before returning it to its sheath, and resumed her seat. Shesensed the Marine's puzzlement, and decided she should try to explain."It is a part of me, in a way. Having it in someone else's possessionmakes me quite uncomfortable."

  Dawson shook his head. "I don't understand. I know it means you're anadult, but it's just a knife."

  "It is more," Corina said, her ears twitching. "My mind pattern--" Shebroke off at Dawson's blank look. "It is an Irschchan thing," she saidapologetically. "I fear I cannot explain it well."

  "Or I don't have the background to understand." Dawson gave her alopsided smile. "Ranger Medart will; whether or not I do isn't reallyimportant." He turned his attention back to his report.

  Corina took that opportunity to think. She was, she had to admit toherself, still more than a little frightened. It was less fear for herlife now, as it had been when the Sanctioners captured her; it was morenervous apprehension about her future. She could not remain onIrschcha, she knew. If she did, as she had told Dawson, she would bekilled.

  But then where could she go? What could she do? Her peaceful life hadnot prepared her for this kind of situation, suddenly caught in themidst of a rebellion. Things were happening too fast, overwhelmingher. She wasn't sure what to expect from the Ranger, either. He'dsaid she had to be valuable; what had he meant?

  Urr . . . there was nothing she could do now but wait, as patiently asshe could, until he arrived.

  * * * * *

  The next hour went slowly. Corina's patience, not one of her strongestpoints at best, was almost exhausted when the door behind her slidopen. Dawson stood, coming to attention; Corina turned, to see if sheshould stand as well. She hadn't quite made it around when a calmvoice said, "As you were."

  She sat back as Dawson resumed his seat. The newcomer was RangerMedart; he propped himself on one corner of the desk, crossing hisarms, and the two studied each other. Medart was good-looking for ahuman, Corina thought, though not really outstanding in any way butone: he moved with almost Irschchan grace, something unusual in a humanmale, especially considering this one's 180-cm height.

  She'd seen pictures of him, of course; one Ranger or another wasusually in the news. So his appearance was familiar: medium build,youthful-looking thanks to anti-agathics despite graying hair at thetemples and an age--about 75, if she remembered correctly--when anIrschchan would be preparing for death. The plain forest-green uniformwas familiar too, with pants bloused over black boots and the widepouched gun-and-equipment belt, its only decoration the platinumstar-in-circle badge of his rank.

  He was more impressive in person than on the holos, Corina decided.His cool blue eyes seemed almost able to see into her, and even withouttrying, she could sense him; he seemed to radiate an aura of quietcompetence like nothing she'd felt before. It surprised hermomentarily, then she twitched an ear, amused at herself. He was aRanger, after all, not an ordinary human. Her curiosity aroused, shetried a quick probe--to be stopped by a mind-shield that was clearlyboth unconscious and well above novice level. An unusual human indeed,she thought, intrigued.

  Medart allowed her scrutiny, studying her at the same time. Despitetheir upright stance and lack of tails, Irschchans invariably remindedhim of the Siamese cats he'd raised when he was a youngster in Texas.This one was no exception. Tawny fur, thick and soft, coveredeverything except her palms and the soles of her feet, though it wasmarred now by slight scorching on her right arm and a bloodstained areajust below her throat. Her alert, pointed ears only increased herresemblance to the remembered Siamese, but he knew the brain which laybetween those ears was fully equal to a human one. While it was hardto read Irschchan expressions, Medart liked the steady look in thisone's jade-green eyes.

  He did think they looked faintly ridiculous in kilt and sporran, butthat had become the Irschchan mode of dress almost as soon as MacLeod,a man aggressively proud of his Scots heritage, appeared in one at theofficial welcoming ceremony. Too bad; it not only detracted from theirgraceful appearance, in his opinion, but it made telling male andfemale apart almost impossible. For humans, at least, he thought witha silent laugh. The Irschchans themselves seemed to have nodifficulty.

  Well, time for business, he decided. But he'd take it as easy on heras he could; she'd had a rough time. "How about some more informationon this rebellion?" he asked, keeping his tone casual.

  "I have already told Major Dawson what I am certain about," Corina saidquietly.

  "And the mind-probe of Entos confirmed all of it. But can you tell mewhy it's happening?"

  "Thark is convinced that the White Order can rule the Empire much moreeffectively than you unTalented humans have been doing. They have,after all, ruled Irschcha for over five millennia, and according toThark, brought about peace and order for most of it. He feelshonor-bound to do the same for the rest of the galaxy."

  "Looks to me more like stagnation," Medart commented. "You've hadspace travel for more than--what, two of those millennia?--but whenMacLeod found you, you were still system-bound. Sorry for theinterruption; go on."

  "I could not agree with him, and came here," Corina said. "I have nophysical proof, however, of anything I have said. I learned what Ihave reported when I broke through Thark's mind-shield this morning."

  "Physical proof isn't necessary," Medart told her. "Your report,backed up by the probe of Entos, is enough. Learn anything else?"

  "Not really. The whole Order is not taking part, of course, but thosewho are not active in the Crusade will also not actively oppose it."

  "Oh? Why not?"

  "They cannot honorably do so," Corina replied, surprised. "The oath ofthe Order forbids such opposition to its leaders, though of course itcannot compel any to follow orders which would lead them to death, asthe Crusade will."

  "You're not actually a member of the Order, then?"

  "No. I was to be initiated soon; however, for now I am bound by nooaths. I am still free to follow my own paths."

  "Uh-huh," Medart agreed. "Good thing for the Empire." Not as free a
sshe believed, he thought but didn't say. She had chosen sides, and itwas up to him to make use of that choice. Then he went on. "I stillneed your help. As secretive as the Order is, we don't know much ofanything about this Talent you say they have, much less how to combatit."

  The intercom chimed before he could go further. Dawson answered, andMedart joined him, looking into the screen.

  "Lieutenant Edmonds, Duty Officer of the Watch," the caller identifiedherself. "The head of the district Sanctioners is here. He hasextradition papers for Ms. Losinj, who is accused of assaulting aSanctioner officer. He also demands we release Entos."

  "Send him in," Medart said, the casualness he'd assumed for Corina'sbenefit vanishing. "I'll handle this myself."

  "Yes, sir." The viewscreen went blank.

  Medart turned to Corina. "Did you assault a Sanctioner officer?"

  "That is a matter of interpretation," she replied. "I was on my wayhere when they stopped me. They were taking me to Headquarters forexecution; I had to use Talent to knock one of them out so I couldescape."

  "Self-defense, then, since you were trying to prevent a crime byescaping." Medart took Dawson's place behind the desk, and the Marinetook position slightly behind and to the Ranger's right, standing atparade rest. All three waited silently until the door slid open again,to admit the Sanctioner chief. He wasted no time getting to the point.

  "You have no right to interfere in purely planetary matters," he said."I must require the return of Losinj and Entos."

  "You're wrong on two counts," Medart said coldly. "As a Ranger, it isnot only my right to interfere, as you put it, anywhere and anywhen Isee a threat to the Empire, it is my duty. Rebellion against theEmpire is such a threat, not a `planetary matter'; Losinj was actingproperly in defending herself to report that treason. She is guilty ofno crimes, which is not true of the ones who obstructed her.

  "I am not particularly concerned about the ones who arrested her," hecontinued. "They were obeying what they considered lawful orders fromtheir Baron, on his world, so punishing them would be unjust. Entos,however, is guilty of attempted murder on Imperial territory. I haveboth eyewitness and mind-probe evidence, so there is no doubt of hisguilt; he will be executed."

  "But she betrayed the Order!" the Sanctioner chief objected. "Forthat, if nothing else, she deserves to die. Entos was actingproperly."

  "Not under Imperial law," Medart said. "The sentence stands. And Iadvise you not to get more deeply involved. Just carry out yourpeace-keeping functions."

  "But--"

  "No buts," Medart said coldly. "Losinj lives, Entos dies. If youinterfere further, I will have to assume you are part of this Crusade,and take appropriate measures. Is that understood?"

  The chief's ears twitched. "Yes, Ranger."

  "Good. You may leave."

  Corina watched the subdued Sanctioner chief do so, then she turned backto the Ranger, intrigued. His sudden change of manner had caught herby surprise, and it might have been frightening--except that he haddefended her, even as he condemned Entos to death. Knowing what he wasand seeing him in action were very different things. There wassomething decidedly attractive about this human, more than just hisappearance--a something she was beginning to appreciate.

  "I must ask asylum," she said quietly. "If I leave the Palace . . .urrr. You know what will happen. Most in the Order will feel as hedoes."

  "But you say you're not a member of the Order," Dawson objected. "Ifyou're not oath-bound, how can you betray them?"

  "They do not see it that way," Corina said. "They expect anyone withTalent to feel bound to the Order even before formal initiation. Itis--or was--inconceivable that anyone with any useful degree of Talentwould refuse to join the Order. It is natural that they would see myopposition as betrayal. I would probably feel the same way myself if Ihad spent my childhood being indoctrinated in Order schools."

  "That's all very interesting," Medart interrupted, "but not right now.Ms. Losinj, there's no asylum involved; I've said I need your help, soyou'll be coming aboard the Emperor Chang with me."

  "I have no desire to be killed, and you certainly need to know aboutTalent. I will give you what help I can."

  Medart was careful to hide his amusement at that response; she'd madeher choice already. But he couldn't help feeling a little regret attearing her away from her home world, even though it meant saving herlife; home meant a lot to most people, and losing it usually meant aserious blow. But at this point neither of them had much choice left."Shall we leave, then? We do have a rebellion to stop."