"True." Corina was surprised to find his touch on her blade didn't bring discomfort. That was highly unusual, but she was becoming accustomed to unusual things around this human. "Again, try to relax. I will continue to check your progress."
"Right." For the second time, Medart closed his eyes and began the deep-breathing routine. In and hold… body relaxed… out and hold… cat-clean scent… in and hold… cat-and-mouse… oh, hell!
"What is it, Ranger?" There had been a flash, an instant of touch too fast for her to grasp and expand, then nothing.
"This isn't going to work, and I think I know what the problem is. Every time I try to relax, I see those four Marines stunned on the deck and the other one with your knife at his throat."
"So your undermind considers me dangerous, is trying to protect you from that. Yes, that is reasonable." Corina thought for a moment. "I seemed to get the impression of memory-smell, though I cannot be sure. And perhaps of a small feline. When MacLeod discovered Irschcha, he thought of us at first as 'overgrown pussycats', and other humans seemed to agree. Perhaps if you thought of me as some sort of domestic pet?"
Medart considered that idea, then chuckled. "I used to raise Siamese cats, and you Irschchans do remind me of them. It's worth a try."
Kimi and Saren, his first pair. Not Saren, who'd been on the blocky side for a Siamese; young Losinj was more like Kimi, slender and incredibly graceful. She'd climb up on his lap, butt his chin with her head to demand that he scratch behind her ears…
Corina, observing carefully, felt his shield start to weaken. That continued until she was able to catch a mental picture of herself, with parts of her fur more deeply colored, curled up on the Ranger's lap and purring with contentment while he gently scratched behind her ears.
She echoed his amusement silently, then began examining his mind pattern. She was careful not to let him realize what she was doing, though she was reasonably sure he could not feel her check. That was both quick and thorough, his mental "atmosphere" far less murky than the other humans she had touched—and his patterns were clear as well, easy to read and work with. His Talent was unmistakable—his potential Talent, she corrected herself; he might not be able to learn its use.
She could at least try activating his latent telepathic ability. That might be somewhat delicate, given his humanity, but with such clear patterns, it should not be particularly difficult. She knew the theory, and Thark had done the same for her; it was merely a matter of redirecting the mental impulses of communication from the speech center to the TP center, something she ought to be able to do without him even realizing the change was being made.