He turned, startled, and looked up at her. "Corina!" he exclaimed. "What--" Then he noticed the drab green kilt, totally uncharacteristic of her. Now what? he wondered. He strode to meet her as she descended from the dais, drawing his bloody soul-blade as he went. Corina unsheathed her own blade, the movement attracting Thark's attention to the bit of metal at her belt. A human would have paled in deep shock; Thark's only visible reaction was an agitated twitch of his ears. "You? A Ranger?" It was too much for him to accept. First humans with shields--blades, with Talent!--and now Losinj a Ranger? "No!" "It is true, Thark. I am placing you under arrest for treason against the Empire." Thark started to answer, was interrupted by gunfire. The Sanctioner holding Kennard had let the human fall to go for his blaster; Nevan dropped him, Valla, and three others while Medart shot Kainor and the remaining Sanctioner. His demoralization was completed when the Sandeman said, "Good shooting, Ranger Medart. Do you want that last one, or may I take him?" "Neither," Medart replied. "He's hers--give me a hand with Kennard." "Yes, sir." Nevan holstered his blaster, and the two men went to kneel by the fallen Ranger. Corina stopped in front of her former teacher. "You have seen and felt the truth, Thark. Will you continue to deny it and fight, or will you do as you taught me honor requires?" Thark gestured at the carnage around them. "All this has been for nothing?" "I would not say that," Corina said. "Your Crusade is the reason I was able to become a Ranger and to discover and train--or begin training-- Ranger Medart's Talent." She gestured to where Nevan was now standing guard while Medart still knelt, his hands on Kennard's forehead and chest. "He is now using an aspect we never developed. This human is a healer, as well as having considerable darlas." Thark shook his head. "I cannot dispute your word, but it is difficult to accept an idea that seemed impossible even an hour ago. May I have a demonstration of a human Talent I can understand?" "If he is willing." Corina called to her fellow Ranger. "Jim!" Medart looked up, anger plain in his face. "What is it?" "Thark wishes proof of your Talent." "He'll get it," Medart promised. Then Corina felt a blast of darlas against her own shield. Most of it, she knew, was directed at Thark, but Medart's lack of control let her feel the fringes. The power of that blast was immense, as if the Ranger was releasing years of pent-up energy at once, but it didn't last long; Thark was shaken, not hurt. "That satisfy you?" Medart demanded.