Medart interrupted her musing. "How about breakfast? I don't know about you, but I'm hungry."
"So am I," Corina agreed. "And we have plans to make."
"Correction," Medart said. "You have plans to make. All I'm going to do is listen and critique."
They took an intraship shuttle to Mess One, intended for senior officers and at this hour quite empty, unlike the always-busy Mess Three. They got their meals and ate silently while Corina decided on her plans.
"The first thing, I think," she finally said, "is to find anyone else aboard with mind shields, to make a combat group. I have met surprisingly many—four out of perhaps three hundred—yet five of us will accomplish little against Thark and the Seniors of the Prime Chapter."
"Right," Medart agreed, "since unshielded ones wouldn't last long. Who else have you found?"
"Besides yourself, there is Colonel Greggson, as you know from the conference. Also Captain Hobison, and the small Marine from the demonstration, Lieutenant DarLeras."
"That one somehow doesn't surprise me," Medart commented.
Corina purred briefly. "He is the first Sandeman warrior I have met, but from my reading and your memories of the warrior Gaelan, I am also not surprised. An enthusiastic fighter, of course, and even shielded, I sense great potential in him."
"He's got that, all right," Medart agreed. "First in last summer's graduating class at the Academy in the Complex, and if he'd fit the psych profile better, he would've been approached about the Rangers. But he can't help thinking of combat as a preferred option rather than a last resort." Medart paused. "It might interest you, and supports your theory, that Captain Hobison was asked. He refused, but that doesn't change his abilities."