"Or vice versa." Medart grinned. "And Sandemans are even 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, and she turned to Medart. "I can no longer put it off. We must speak to Colonel Greggson." "I'll talk to him if you'd like, since he makes you uncomfortable." "No, though I thank you for the offer. I have accepted this job, I will do what it requires. I will speak to him."