The receiver in Owajima's ear chimed softly; he turned on his throat mike--not the surgically implanted comm unit many ranking Imperials were given, but the external type used as far back as pre-atomic times--and answered. "Owajima here."
"DarLowrie went to the open house, Colonel--and one of those on the destroyer static display recognized him. His name is Nevan, and he has accepted an invitation to visit the ship."
"Nevan!" Owajima exclaimed. "What clan, do you know?"
"It was not said, but the largest clan group aboard is from Leras."
"Ah." Owajima was silent for several seconds, absorbing that. "Is there a tattoo on his right cheek?"
"There is not."
"Interesting--thank you. I will need some assistance after all, it appears; I would like to get into his ship with as few traces as possible."
"An entry specialist will be with you in ten minutes. Is there anything else?"
"Not at the moment. Owajima out." So his pursuer's true name was Nevan, Owajima thought, troubled. And the ship's largest contingent was from Leras. Knowing both Sandemans and the unconditional nature of the personal fealty oath, he found it hard to believe his pursuer's identity. What had gone wrong, to turn a Sandeman warrior from thakur-na to renegade assassin?