He "heard" the amused purr that was the Irschchan version of a laugh. *A return to the field work you enjoy so must be a terrible sacrifice, my Nevan.* Nevan let his thoughts lapse into High War Speech, chuckling. *Nay, Thakur, as thou knowest well--save that it does mean I must conceal thy mark, lest it identify me and make thy object in this attempt no true test.* *Aye, but it should not be for long.* *And I knew when I swore that I might have to do it,* Nevan agreed. *Until my success or failure, then.* Three days later he was far from Terra, the violet-flower tattoo on his cheek concealed by synthiskin, in a small Kanchatka-class courier ship. That was a definite luxury for a private individual, though not unreasonable for a Sandeman warrior who'd done well securing private employment and wanted more--who was, in short, a very good, very expensive hired killer. There weren't many, granted; killing for its own sake wasn't highly regarded on Sandeman, especially if anything more honorable was available, but there were enough to make his cover plausible. This, he had decided, was going to be fun. * * * * * A couple of days later, he was less sure. He'd come away from the Palace Complex with as much solid data as he'd ever had starting a mission, and with as much enthusiasm, but he'd begun feeling less than comfortable about this one. Part of it was because he was pursuing someone he would probably like to have as a friend; the unknown agent didn't deserve to be hunted, though Nevan had to reluctantly concede that it was probably the best way to accomplish his thakur's mission. The other part was that he couldn't seem to decide whether or not he really wanted to catch his target. He wanted to make sure the weapons were delivered, yes, and since his chosen lady wanted a good test of IntelDiv's security, he had to want it too--but he wasn't happy about what those desires implied: It was almost inevitable that he'd have to use some of a field agent's less savory skills. He'd used them before, often enough, and without qualms--against the Empire's enemies. He had never used them against people who had done nothing to deserve such treatment, and he didn't really want to. He didn't have any choice, though. He would do whatever proved to be necessary to accomplish his objectives. * * * * *