Ten minutes later Medart and Chavvorth were sitting in the senior officers' lounge, drinking coffee and chovas. Medart had adjusted to the idea of magic far more easily than to the idea of Sandemans as enemies; magic was, for all practical purposes, something new, which made it easy to accept. Sandemans as enemies, though, was a total reversal of something that had been a given for over a century and a quarter. And Sandemans who'd had that extra time to grow and advance technologically—and magically, he was sure—would be an awesome enemy.
"From what Ranger Ariel said," Medart started, "I gather you ran into the Sandemans about three years ago. The Shapers must've gone a lot further out in this universe than they did in Alpha Prime."
"Who or what are the Shapers?"
Medart sighed. "You don't have much intelligence about the Sandemans?"
"Almost none," Chavvorth said. "Few have been captured, none successfully interrogated—few successfully held, in fact. Most are able to conjure their way out of custody, even denied the materials an Imperial magician would find necessary."
Medart chuckled. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me. Do you have anything like a mindprobe, so I can give you everything I know in a hurry?"
"Not yet," Chavvorth said regretfully. "One is in the development stage, but it will be several months at least before it is far enough along to experiment with humans on."
"We do it the hard way, then. Emperor Barton?"
"Yes, Ranger Medart," the ship replied.
"What access level do I have in this universe?"