III
Corina didn't pay much attention to her surroundings as the three went to the Palace roof where Medart's lander waited. Reaction had set in, now that she was safe, and for the moment she was numb.
It wasn't until they were inside the boxy little vehicle that she paid full attention again. Small as it was, this was a space-going vessel of the Imperial Navy, something she'd thought lost to her forever when her Talent made its belated appearance. Her ears went forward attentively; she didn't want to miss anything.
Medart noticed, and smiled. "Your first time aboard a spacecraft, Ms. Losinj?"
"Yes, Ranger."
"Take the right-hand seat forward, then. No co-pilot's necessary on a surface-to-orbit hop, and you'll get a good view from there." He turned to his bodyguard, who was also the lander's pilot. "Nevan, would you help Ms. Losinj strap in, please?"
"Aye, sir." Nevan, now in Marine black, bent over the young Irschchan. "Here… this goes across your lap, and these two over your shoulders, all to the same buckle. It's a quick-release type; to get out, just slap this button."
"Thank you." Corina accepted the help, though she didn't really need it. Her pre-Talent hopes of attending the Naval Academy had led her to study anything she could find about the Fleets, including such minor details as how to secure flight restraints.
She had given up those hopes, forced herself to repress them and think about her future in the Order instead. To suddenly have them back— once she'd given the Ranger what help she could, of course—was almost too much to believe. And to be making her first trip off-planet aboard a Navy craft, with a Ranger, was something beyond her wildest dreams.
It was truly no dream, though, she assured herself, and as they lifted off she was determined not to look foolish. That was easy at first; she had seen enough holoshows to be familiar with the green sky's darkening, becoming black as they left atmosphere. Soon she could see stars, now hard bright points of light rather than the soft twinkling she was used to.
One began showing a sunlit disk, and she realized that had to be Ranger Medart's ship. Tiny-seeming at first, it grew rapidly, filling the lander's window and continuing to grow.
Corina's determination faltered. She had seen innumerable pictures of such vessels, knew their immensity—a Sovereign-class battle cruiser was approximately spherical, a kilometer in diameter, and massed on the close order of eight hundred million tons. But pictures and statistics couldn't convey the emotional impact of actually seeing one at close range for the first time. Corina swallowed an exclamation of awe, trying to remain calm, but she could feel Medart's gaze, and felt certain he knew how the ship affected her.
The lander surged slightly as it was gripped by a tractor beam from one of the Chang's equatorial hangars. Nevan released the controls, allowing the beam operator to settle the lander to the deck while hangar doors closed behind them. As soon as his gauges showed Terra-normal atmosphere, he opened the airlock and the group disembarked, with Medart in the lead and Corina trailing behind.
The hangar deck was large, much bigger than necessary for the lander it now held, yet Corina had a feeling of things closing in on her. Precognition was no part of her Talent, though, so she attributed the sensation to her surroundings, familiar from pictures but strange in reality. She felt like a young, unbladed child again, everything around her seeming odd and alien in spite of her studies.
But this was her new reality, here aboard the Chang. She had no way to know how she would fit in yet, but she did know she would have to. This ship was going to be home for however long the Ranger wanted her help; she would have to adapt.
When they left the hangar, they were met by a stocky officer in Navy working khaki; from the eagle on his collar, Corina knew he was the ship's captain. There were several others, with different rank insignia, but it was the first man who saluted Medart.
The Ranger returned the salute, then introduced them. "Captain David Hobison, this is Ms. Corina Losinj. She will be accompanying us on this trip as my special assistant. She won't have any formal Navy rank, but I want her quartered in a senior officer's cabin, preferably near mine. Have someone see to that, bring the ship to Condition Yellow, then meet me in Briefing Room One. I have to call the Emperor, and I don't want to have to go through everything twice."
He started to leave, then turned to Corina. "Before I go, what's your ident code?"
"ISCCJ-1643-2048," she replied.
"Got it." Medart strode past the group and entered an intra-ship shuttle, one of several, partway down the passage.
Hobison gave Corina a thoughtful look, then turned to one of the officers standing nearby. "Ensign Yamata?"
A young female with a gold bar for collar insigne answered. "Yes, sir?"
"You're assigned to Ms. Losinj until further notice. Get her a cabin and anything else she needs. You're relieved of regular watch standing."
"Yes, sir!" Yamata said with a wide smile. "If you'll come with me, Ms. Losinj?"
Corina inclined her head. "I appear to be in your hands, Ensign."
"You might as well call me Sunbeam," Yamata said as they left the group. "Everyone else does, even Ranger Medart, except on watch. And you heard the Captain, I'm not standing watches any more, thanks to you. I really do mean thanks—I was supposed to go on rotating shifts tomorrow, instead of staying on first watch, and now I don't have to." She smiled again, even more widely.
Corina's ears twitched in surprise at the flood of words, but Sunbeam didn't seem to notice. "All right, Sunbeam. What do we do first?"
That was something else she would have to get used to, Corina told herself. Humans were, by Irschchan standards, quite informal, sometimes to the point of appearing rude. But they did not intend offense, and she really ought to adapt to their ways, so she added, "You may call me Corina."
"Great! We find you a cabin, that's first, then we can eat, if you're as hungry as I am. C'mon, let's get a shuttle."
That reminded Corina that she hadn't eaten since the previous night. "I am hungry," she agreed, as they entered one of the elevator-like cubicles that provided intra-ship transport. "But what if Ranger Medart wants me for something?"
"That's right, he called you his special assistant. Don't worry about it, Chang handles the intra-ship communications." The young Ensign spoke into thin air. "Emperor Chang?"
A pleasant baritone voice replied. "Yes, Ensign Yamata?"
"We have a VIP guest, Ms. Corina Losinj of Irschcha. Ranger Medart wants her assigned a cabin near his. What's available?"
"There is one next to his," the ship-comp replied. "3N-2-1-8 is free."
"Great! Take us there, will you?"
"Affirmative. Is there anything else?"
"No, thanks."
"Chang out."
The shuttle began to move, and Sunbeam turned to Corina. "You'll have to memorize those coordinates, I'm afraid. You're not a member of the ship's crew, so until Ranger Medart or Captain Hobison say otherwise, that and comm patches are the only commands of yours the Chang will obey, once you get its attention by using its full name. Security, you know."
"I understand," Corina said. "Deck Three North, Ring Two, Segment One, Cabin B."
"Very good!" Sunbeam exclaimed. "If this was the Academy, I'd make you explain the system."
"If I am fortunate, I will go to the Academy when this is over. May I practice?"
Sunbeam assumed a mock-fierce expression. "All right, plebe. Recite!"
A stern-looking Sunbeam Yamata seemed so incongruous, even on short acquaintance, that Corina purred briefly in amusement. "We came in on Deck Zero, known as the Equator. Other decks are numbered away from that, south being toward the drive pod, north toward the bow. The Bridge is at the center of Deck Zero, fully protected. The rings are numbered outward, toward the hull. There are twelve segments, numbered clockwise from an arbitrary beginning, and compartments in each segment are given alphabetic designations."
When she finished, Sunbeam was grinning again. "Not quite by the book, but you're close, and you've got all the facts right. Are you a Navy fan, or something?"
The shuttle door opened, and the two stepped out into a cool-looking green corridor before Corina replied. "I would not use that term, but you could say so."
"D… C… here we are." Sunbeam motioned Corina into the cabin. "So was I. It makes a lot of the first year easier. But don't get used to this—cadet quarters aren't anywhere near this nice, and neither are junior officers' quarters. Which you probably already know."
"Yes." Corina looked around. It was more like a small apartment than a cabin, with the part they were in both lounge and office. A panel labeled "Ship's Services" covered one wall above a table which had an L-shaped extension housing a computer terminal and viewscreen. Storage and display cabinets lined two other walls. The fourth was a translucent screen with a curtained-off opening.
She brushed past the curtain into the sleeping area. A standard bed covered in glimmercloth was the only furniture here; the clothing storage and fabricator were both built into the wall across from the bed. A door in the wall opposite the divider proved to lead to a small but well-designed 'fresher room—though Corina remembered that aboard Navy ships, for some obscure reason, they were called "heads".
She returned to the lounge area, testing one of the two armchairs it held—yes, as soft as it looked—glad that if she was to spend some appreciable amount of time on this ship, it would be in such pleasant surroundings. A yellow light flashing on a panel beside the door caught her attention, and she pointed to it. "What is—oh, I remember."
"Ship's status, right," Sunbeam said. "We're in Condition Yellow; what's General Quarters?"
"Red, with a wavering buzz. I do not have a battle station, so I would remain here unless told otherwise by a senior officer."
"Right again!" Sunbeam looked around. "I think that's all here. So unless you need something else…" Her voice trailed off, and she pointed to Corina's neck. "Is that blood?"
"Oh." Corina reached up and touched the spot. "I forgot, and I have had no chance to wash it off before now. Excuse me for a moment, please." She left, returning with her throat fur damp but clean, to face a thorough scrutiny by the young Ensign.
Sunbeam nodded at last. "And that's a blaster burn—"
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.
He looked up as Hobison entered. "Everything set, Dave?"
"Yes, sir," Hobison replied. "And I had Communications call the Palace, your personal code. We should be getting a reply any time, and it'll be patched through to here."
"Thanks." Medart was appreciative, though he hadn't expected any less from the man who'd captained his ship for the past twenty years. "This is something I'm not looking forward to telling His Majesty."
The briefing room screen flickered blue, then cleared to show a lean, gray-haired man wearing a Ranger's uniform with the Imperial Seal in place of the badge. Both men on the Chang stood and saluted.
Emperor Charles Davis returned the salute. "What is it, Jim? You wouldn't be back on duty if it weren't critical."
"Rebellion, sir." Medart reported all he had learned, both from the probe of Entos and from Corina, watching the Emperor's expression become grim. And he reported his hunch.
Davis nodded. "Follow it up. Learn all you can about their Talent, too. The White Order's never given us any trouble before, so they were entitled to their privacy, but that's over now. We can't afford to keep depending on stories and rumors."
"She's agreed to give any help she can, sir, as I said, and that includes briefing me on Talent."
"Good. I'll alert the nobility, have them take extra precautions since they're bound to be targets. You're on-scene; do you think I should have a fleet cordon off Irschcha itself?"
"No, sir," Medart replied. "Thark's smart, we know that. If he and his people haven't left the planet already, they'll damnsure be gone by the time a cordon fleet could get here."
"All right. But I will have Earl Suitland take over planetary administration, and I'll send some extra troops to stand by in case she needs them." Davis scowled. "This isn't going to look good, especially to the Traiti. I promised them they'd keep their own government so they could stop fighting and join the Empire, and the White Order ruling Irschcha was one of the convincers. Only their Lords know how they'll react to this—they've only been part of the Empire for six weeks."
"It's touchy, all right," Medart agreed. "Having to take over one of the only two non-human governments—they may see it as evidence we don't really consider non-humans as equals."
"We'll have to convince them otherwise." Davis paused briefly. "Jim, do you think your hunch that Ms. Losinj is important could mean she's Ranger material?"
"No way to know yet, sir. She's got the loyalty, she's proven that, and she certainly acts intelligent enough, but I'll have to find out about the rest. Check her records, talk to her, see how she thinks— maybe give her the pre-Academy tests. I haven't noticed anything negative so far, but I haven't seen much of her, either."
"I know. Just keep me informed; we need a non-human Ranger. But even if she doesn't qualify, I think she deserves a title for having the courage and loyalty to warn us."
"Agreed, sir. A Life Nobility?"
Davis smiled slightly. "She deserves it, but I'm going to reserve that pleasure for myself—here at the Palace, in a full Grand Audience. Give her a knighthood for now."
"Yes, sir. I'll hold a Tribunal tomorrow morning."
"That's it, then. I've got to get moving on this mess. Out." The Emperor's image flickered blue, then disappeared.
Hobison gave the Ranger a long, silent look before he spoke. "Rebellion, hmm? From the timing, I'd say this Thark's just been waiting for the war to end. That doesn't strike me as typical behavior for a rebel."
"Same here," Medart said. "He's not typical at all, from what Losinj told me. Most rebels are greedy, out for nothing but power—according to her, Thark's convinced the Order can rule better than we poor unTalented can, so it's his duty to take over. Naturally, I don't agree."
Hobison snorted. "Good intentions don't make up for treason. What's next?"
"That depends on what we learn from Losinj," Medart replied. "At the moment, I just don't know enough to make realistic plans. Too much depends on how powerful this Talent of the Order's is."
Hobison nodded. "That makes sense. But would you really ask her to join the Rangers? She's so tiny, so…"
"Pettable?" Medart came close to smiling. "She looks it, yes, but you heard what she had to do to reach us. And you know size doesn't have anything to do with it. Sure I'll ask her, if I find she's qualified, even if I hate to wish this responsibility on anyone. His Majesty's right, we need a non-human Ranger badly. Especially now that we're integrating the Traiti."
"Uh-huh. Good politics, if nothing else."
Medart nodded. "Since that damn Firster backshot Steve in the Palace and Hovan took him, there's been sentiment growing for non-humans. It's a good thing, and it makes this an ideal time for that breakthrough. It'd probably tickle Steve to know that she'd take his place. I'm just sorry this means no shore leave for Chang's crew."
"So am I," Hobison agreed. "I could use a bit of vacation about now. It can't be helped, though."
"No." Medart sighed, changed the subject. "She might as well brief all of us at once; can you have the Command Crew here in, say, an hour?"
"Yes, sir. Do you want me to have her paged?"
"Don't bother." Medart grinned. "If I know our Sunbeam, she's found Losinj a cabin and taken her to Mess Three. I could use something to eat myself, so I'll go get her."
Medart spotted Yamata and his new assistant almost as soon as he entered Mess Three. Spotted where they must be sitting, rather; that noisy group on the far side of the room. He punched in his order— coffee and an egg salad sandwich—and when it slid from the dispenser, took it over to stand on the outskirts of the group.
"—like it's something you'd do every day before lunch!" a young Marine Lieutenant was saying. "Dig out a plot, escape from three cops, fight an assassin, then say it was nothing. That's incredible!"
So they'd succeeded in worming part of the story out of her, Medart thought. Just the basics, most likely, so they'd let her eat, and there was no harm in that; everyone would find out soon enough.
"You can't shrug it off that lightly, 'Rina," someone else said. "That'd get one of us a medal. Should get you a knighthood, maybe a Life Nobility."
Then Sunbeam spoke up, almost laughing. "Take it easy! Can't you see you're embarrassing her terribly?"
"Well, she should," the other retorted. "If I had enough rank, I'd call a Tribunal right now, and knight her."
Not a bad idea at all, Medart thought. It probably would be best, considering Greggson's attitude, for her to have that formal status when she met with the Command Crew. The man's competence as Security Chief couldn't be questioned, but Medart wondered at times how he'd ever passed the psych tests to become an Imperial officer, with his near-xenophobia. Hmm, this was getting interesting—the anonymous young officer was going through with it, speaking the formula of knighthood as solemnly as if this were indeed a real Tribunal. All Medart could see of the Irschchan was her eartips, erect and quivering as her admirer finished on a note of triumph: "—and do name you, Corina Losinj of Irschcha, a Knight of the Empire!"
"Confirmed," Medart said, pitching his voice so the entire group would hear.
"Wha—" The officer turned, flushing, as the group noticed the Ranger for the first time.
Medart smiled. "I said `confirmed', Ensign; you did that well enough I don't see any need to repeat the ceremony. Now may I join my assistant?"
"Uh… yes, sir. Of course."
Corina stared from Ranger to Ensign and back, confused. This was far too informal, even by human standards, to mean what it seemed to—and yet the Ranger was perfectly serious, no trace of humor in voice or aura. "I do not understand," she said at last. "I have done only my duty; I deserve no special recognition for that."
"His Majesty doesn't agree, Sir Corina," Medart said, stressing the title slightly, as he took a seat. "If you'd care to argue it with him—?"
Corina looked disbelievingly at the Ranger, who was smiling at her with one eyebrow raised. Was this what humans called "teasing"? She supposed it had to be; he couldn't seriously expect her to argue with the Emperor! "No, Ranger. If His Majesty wishes to so honor me, I must accept."
Typical exaggerated Irschchan respect for authority, Medart thought, but if she stayed around humans long, she'd get over that! "You'd best finish your lunch, Sir Corina. And get used to the title; I've called a Command Crew meeting for 1400, so you can brief them."
"Yes, Ranger." Corina turned her attention back to her meal, the milk and medium-rare steak Sunbeam had recommended.
The meeting began on schedule, in Briefing Room One, with Hobison introducing his senior officers. Corina took the opportunity to make a quick evaluation of each. There was no dishonor; she was not probing deeply enough to intrude.
Hobison himself was shielded, well enough she could read nothing of him . . . as he should be in his position, though it was surprising.
"My Executive Officer, Commander Sonia Pappas." She was a short brunette, four or five kilos overweight but not fat. No mind screen; Corina felt an aura of competence from her.
"Marine Lieutenant Colonel Jeff Greggson, Chief of Security." Tall and muscular, he wore Marine black with silver oak leaf rank insigne. Despite his strong mind shield, Corina sensed hostility.
"Commander Marie Sherman, Chief Medical Officer." A tall blonde who seemed uncomfortable outside her own medical center. No screen, but she wasn't radiating any particular emotion, either.
"And finally Commander Carl Jensen, Chief Engineer." Small and studious looking, he didn't really stand out. Like Sherman, he was unshielded and wanted nothing more than to return to his own domain.
Medart took over the meeting at that point, describing what little he knew of the White Order. "We're here to find out exactly how much of a threat the Order actually is to the Empire," he concluded. "Sir Corina has agreed to help us, so she's next."
Corina stood. "I do not know precisely what information you wish. Perhaps it would be best if you asked questions."
"All right. Just what can the Order do? Specifically, what is this Talent we hear stories about? I need facts, not rumors."
"You mean the individual members?"
"For a start, yes."
"Urrr… telepathy, of course, and—"
"Reliable telepathy?" Sherman broke in skeptically. "That's never been proven."
"Then I must do so, at least to your satisfaction." Corina turned to the Ranger. "If I may do so without dishonor?"
"There's no dishonor involved; that's what you're here for. Go ahead."
Corina turned back, probed gently into the Medical Officer's unscreened mind. "You are familiar with the Rhine reports some four centuries before the Empire?"
"Yes, but they're no more proof of telepathy than your guessing I'd read them."
"They should have convinced you. Since they do not, I must probe more deeply. I do not wish to distress you, but belief is essential. I have been aboard only a short time, not long enough to learn anything about you in the so-called `normal' way. Would you agree?"
Sherman nodded.
"Very well. Your middle name is Jean. Your hobby is pre-Empire science fiction." Corina paused, contemplating. "That appears interesting; I shall have to look into it. To continue, your favorite stories are the Lensman series, and your only regret is that—"
"That's enough!" Sherman interrupted in a near shout. "I'm convinced. You don't have to go on."
Corina, satisfied that she had made her point, continued to the entire group. "Telepathy is the most common aspect of Talent, and by far the easiest to develop; all of the Order has it, in varying degrees. A mind screen or shield is almost as common; it seems to go with the telepathy, in all but rare cases." She noticed a slightly raised hand. "Yes, Colonel Greggson?"
"That mind screen—does it occur without telepathy? It could be very useful, in my field."
"Not in Irschchans, but it apparently does in humans. I noticed earlier that you, Ranger Medart, and Captain Hobison all have excellent ones, among the best I have felt."
Greggson smiled grimly. "Thanks. That's good to know." He went on more softly, muttering to himself, but Corina's hearing made his words clearly audible. "All the most sensitive positions. Damn lucky… if the kitty's not lying."
Corina's ears flattened slightly at that uncalled-for slur, but she forced herself to say nothing about it, responding instead to the Chief Engineer's slight gesture. "You wish to ask something, Commander Jensen?"
"Please. Can a mind screen like that be generated electronically?"
"To the best of my knowledge, Commander, such a thing has never been attempted. There are those who would consider the electronic imitation of Talent an obscenity, and they have much influence."
"What else?" Medart asked.
"Direction sense would be included for humans, I believe," Corina said. "The Order does not consider it a true aspect of Talent, since it is something all Irschchans have, but I understand that is not true for you. Otherwise, aside from what I have already mentioned, there is anything one can imagine being done by mind power rather than physical means, though few people have more than one such aspect, and no one has been reported with more than three. The rarest is precognition; I have not heard of anyone having that in over fifty years. I myself am capable of weak telekinesis, finding, and darlas." She saw puzzled looks, and explained. "Finding is the ability to locate concealed—or simply misplaced—objects, and darlas is a form of telepathic attack."
"What's telekinesis?" Greggson asked.
"Moving objects by mind power alone." When the Security Chief looked doubtful, Corina decided she had best demonstrate that as well. But the conference table was bare, and she did not want to use anything of her own.
"Ranger Medart, do you have anything I could use to show the Colonel what I mean? It had best be light; as I said, that aspect of my Talent is not particularly powerful."
"I think so," Medart replied. He reached into a pouch on his belt, pulled out a small notepad. "Is this okay?"
"It is fine. Would you put it on the table, please?"
He did as she asked. She stared hard at it for perhaps five seconds, concentrating, then the pad rose from the table. Apparently on its own, it circled the room, then settled gently back to its starting place in front of the Ranger.
For long seconds, nobody spoke. Then Medart said softly, "If the Order can do all that, I'd say we have a bit worse of a problem than I thought."
"Not all can do everything," Corina reminded him, "any more than I can. Still, their abilities do combine to make a formidable power. The problem is a serious one."
"This Talent of yours is all very well," Greggson put in, "but I doubt if it would be any good against armed, trained Security Division Marines. I'd bet on my men any day."
"You would lose," Corina told him, then she looked at Medart. "It seems I must demonstrate this as well, since Colonel Greggson appears unable to accept my word. Although there are many who equal or surpass me, my Talent is above average; I can give you some idea of the opposition you will have to face."
Medart nodded. "Good suggestion. Greggson, get half a decade of your best troops together in the main gym as soon as you can."
"Yes, sir." Greggson left, scowling at Corina as he passed her. She wondered what she could have done to arouse the man's hostility; after all, she had barely met him.
"Give him a few minutes to get them together," Medart said, "then we can meet them in the gym. Do you really think you can defeat five top SecuDiv Marines?"
"I do not know," Corina replied quietly. "It has been some time since I worked with unTalented people, and last time I tried, I could defeat only two, neither of whom had a shield. On the other hand, I have been training with Thark and Valla. But defeating them is not as important as convincing Colonel Greggson of the danger he and his Marines face."
"Truthfully, I don't think you can do it," Hobison said. "All his people are top caliber, or they wouldn't be on this ship—and one of them, Ranger Medart's bodyguard, is a Sandeman warrior."
"Any selected for this vessel's Marine contingent would be formidable, I know," Corina said, "particularly one of that race's warriors. But I still believe the demonstration necessary; if one who is yet a student can make a respectable showing against such, then you will take more seriously those who are long-experienced in the use of their greater Talent."
"Can't argue that," Hobison said. "But I don't envy you the demonstration, Sir Corina."
All except the Ranger agreed aloud. He agreed privately as well, but wanted to give her the best chance possible, which meant not discouraging her before she even got started. And she was right; the demonstration, whatever its outcome, would be valuable. "Greggson's had time to call his people together," he said at last. "Let's get to the gym."
Medart spent the shuttle trip unobtrusively studying the young Irschchan. She'd certainly been handed a rough deal, he thought sympathetically. He might not share her telepathic Talent, but he could make an educated guess about how she felt. Betrayed by her teacher, attacked and almost killed, then drafted and hauled into a whole new kind of life… she couldn't be exactly comfortable about the whole thing, but she was reacting better than he could've expected—well enough that he'd rate her adaptability level the equal of a Ranger's, which was a promising sign. She'd make out all right, whether she met Ranger standards all the way or not.
Corina's self-evaluation was less optimistic. She was managing to keep up a good front somehow, she thought, since she didn't care to let strangers know just how overwhelmed she felt by the day's happenings. At the moment she was going strictly on stubbornness, and was just hoping that would last long enough for her to adapt to this totally unfamiliar existence.