n worse than
most that way. They don't even like to strip for a medical exam--which
they hate in the first place. I'd embarrass him every bit as much as
you would. I was worried about wasting days; we can spare a few
minutes."

"I do not understand, but I would not wish to offend him. We do want
his assistance."

Medart chuckled. "Don't worry, you'll get it. Just look at Gaelan's
memories if you think there's any chance of a Sandeman warrior passing
up any kind of honorable combat."

Corina did, and found herself amused at her doubt. "I see. But he
should still have the opportunity to refuse, with the odds so greatly
against the assault team."

* * * * *

It wasn't long before the dressing room door opened and Nevan emerged,
his blond hair still damp from the shower. He'd caught a glimpse of
the two Rangers watching his practice, so he wasn't really too
surprised to find them waiting for him, but he was wondering what they
wanted with a young First Lieutenant fresh out of the Academy. He came
to perfect Guidebook attention, waited.

"At ease, Lieutenant." Corina purred briefly. This one, she thought,
would truly be an asset. "I must ask if you would be willing to
volunteer for a particularly hazardous mission, one from which it is
entirely possible no survivors will emerge." She went on to explain
about his mental defenses and the opposition the assault team would
face. She wished she could read his thoughts, but after the first
mention of fighting, she had no doubt of his answer; not even Marine
discipline could make him hold back a smile, and his eagerness was
evident in his steel-gray eyes. "I believe that is everything," she
said at last. "The choice is yours, and you may refuse without
prejudice."

For Nevan's opinion of this, see NEVAN

"No, sir. I'm volunteering."

"Excellent. I will call a briefing as soon as I have spoken to all
those who have shields of adequate strength, and so are eligible for
the assault team. In the meantime you are relieved of normal duty;
relax, or do whatever you think best to prepare yourself."

"Yes, sir." Nevan came to attention again, waiting.

*You'll have to dismiss him,* Medart sent. *He's still Academy-stiff,
hasn't relaxed to Fleet standards yet.*

*Thank you.* "Dismissed, Lieutenant." Corina watched him leave,
purring softly in satisfaction that he, at least, was happy. Then her
ears went back slightly, an