A Matter of Honor Part 27

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.

"It does," Thark replied formally. "Such proof cannot be denied." He turned back to Corina, feeling empty. It had all come to nothing. All those lives wasted, all that blood on his hands--all for his mistakes.

"I have committed grave dishonor as well as treason, Ranger. May I be permitted to salvage what I can of my honor before I pay the other penalty?"

Corina sheathed her dagger. This was her old master once again, it seemed. Even in his treason he had acted as he believed honor demanded; despite her fears to the contrary, it was clear he would not--he could not--refuse honor's demands now. "Halt the Crusade, Master. I will do what I can for those who followed you, if they surrender immediately."

Master, Thark thought. She had refused to call him that before, when she had named him traitor. He bowed his head, acknowledging her authority--but there was one thing he still had to find out. "You have taught the use of Talent, Ranger Losinj, which should have increased your own ability. May I test, to find if it has had the effect I believed it would?"

Corina inclined her head. "You may, Master--but my new position demands I take precautions. Lieutenant DarLeras."

"Yes, sir?"

"This is not a combat situation, but should I appear to be weakening, I may need your support. Your shield is powerful enough that you should be able to give it simply by wishing strongly to protect me. Will you?"

"Gladly, sir!"

Corina felt his shield reaching for her, and purred in amus.e.m.e.nt. "Not now, Lieutenant--only if I cannot protect myself. I believe I know what Master Thark has in mind, and it is important to Irschcha's future that the results not be distorted."

Thark looked from her to the Sandeman, reached out gently, and touched the strongest shield he had ever felt. "You, too," he said in resignation. "Guard her well, warrior."

Nevan bowed. If Ranger Losinj called him Master and showed him a degree of respect, a junior officer could do no less. "You have a warrior's word on that, High Adept."

"That t.i.tle is what I am testing." Thark's attention went back to Corina, and he struck with the full power of his darlas.

It hurt, but Corina was able to block any damage and strike back. To her astonishment, her blast penetrated Thark's shield and it was she who had to pull back to prevent injury.

Thark held up both hands. "Enough. You have done even better than I expected, which was to become my successor when I chose to retire. You have become stronger than I, which makes you High Adept by default.

And it seems only fitting, now, that a Ranger of the Empire be head of the White Order." He broadcast a thought, seeming relieved at his capitulation. *Cease all resistance and surrender to the nearest Imperial officer. I have been wrong. The Crusade is truly simple treason, and as its leader I command its dissolution. Ranger Corina Losinj is now High Adept of the Order, to be obeyed as such.*

There were astonished objections from those still able, especially the ones not on Terra, but Thark overrode them. *Do as I have commanded.

Honor cannot be denied.*

That brought acquiescence, sometimes grudged but real. Medart felt it and touched his throat, activating his comm implant. "Chang, relay to our a.s.sault team, then the appropriate parts to Imperial installations elsewhere--and make sure Defsat Five is included. Cease fire, the Order has surrendered. Bring any who are still conscious, and those of the stunned ones you can manage, to the Throne Room. Medart out."

Thark bowed to Corina, feeling only exhaustion and an odd sense of relief. It had been a n.o.ble dream, but it was now at an end, and he had only one thing left to do. "I will need a blaster."

Corina nodded. "Lieutenant DarLeras," she called.

Nevan joined her. "Yes, sir?"

"Give Thark your gun."

Nevan wanted to protest, but resisted the urge and handed the weapon over--with a warning. "Try to harm her, Master Thark, and you're the one who'll die."

Thark felt unexpected amus.e.m.e.nt. "I have committed enough dishonor, young warrior. I will not compound it by harming her. I wish only to destroy this blade, and so regain what I may of the honor I have lost."

He held up the b.l.o.o.d.y dagger that had, so long ago, had his mind-pattern impressed on it.

Nevan bowed. "I meant no disrespect, only to a.s.sure her safety."

"As you should, and will." Thark switched the blaster to maximum power, placed his soul-blade on the floor, and fired.

Then he screamed, a long full-throated yowl of absolute, terrifying loss that subsided to broken whimpers as he collapsed beside the smoking metal that had been a blade.

"What--" Nevan exclaimed in astonishment.

"Psychic shock, Lieutenant," Corina said. "He will recover enough to stand trial and serve whatever sentence he is given, but he will never be whole again. He has destroyed an essential part of himself. Take him to the medical unit, please, and see that he is cared for while medteams find and treat the other survivors. Can you find it?"

"Yes, sir." Nevan pried his gun out of Thark's hand and holstered it, then picked the Irschchan up. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Three hours later, the Empress Lindner returned to Terra orbit, and shortly thereafter one of its landers touched down beside Chang's.

Medart and Corina were waiting for the pa.s.sengers in Emperor Davis'

working office, as he had asked; they had given him a complete report during his trip back, and had in turn been given reports of what had happened elsewhere in the Empire during the shortest-lived revolt in its history. The next step was His Majesty's decision as to what was to be done about it.

The office showed no sign of the fighting just ended, and cleanup elsewhere was already under way. The Palace morgue was busy, the medical center only a little less so; Hobison was there, in critical condition, along with three less seriously wounded from the a.s.sault group. Greggson and one of the other Marines had been killed; the rest of the group was unhurt. Kennard's injuries had been serious, but thanks to Medart's help not fatal, and Senior Physician Zanivar had said he'd be released later that week.

The two stood and came to attention as the Emperor entered, followed by Crown Prince Forrest and a ma.s.sive, gray-skinned Traiti in Marine service black. "As you were," Davis said, motioning the others to chairs and seating himself at his desk.

He turned to Corina. "You did a good job, Ranger. I didn't expect it to end so quickly."

"Had Thark been less honorable than he was, sir, it would not have."

"I'm aware of that, which is why he'll be sentenced to exile rather than death--though in his condition, I'm not sure which would be worse."

"To him," Corina said slowly, "it no longer matters. His body survives, but very little of Thark himself remains. He can go through the motions of life, that is all--and he has effectively wiped himself from Irschchan memory. His name and story will survive, of course, but it will be without the mind-pattern in his blade to give it substance."

"He can still serve as an example," Davis said. "The fact that he led a rebellion because he was convinced it would be beneficial to everyone doesn't excuse it--but the fact that he called it off and tried to atone when he found he was wrong justifies my giving him what will be seen as clemency by most people. And it'll have at least one side benefit." Davis indicated the Traiti. "Lieutenant Hovan spoke to his Clan Mother at my request, and got her consent. Thark's exile will be on Norvis, guarded and taken care of by Clan Ch'kara. That way he's visibly punished, in a way that demonstrates the Empire's trust in our newest citizens."

"An elegant solution," Corina agreed. She turned to Hovan, gave him a polite seated bow. "I saw the tapes of your rulers' Audience, Lieutenant. I am pleased to meet one who can react so swiftly and correctly."

Hovan returned the bow, his arms crossed over his chest. "You give me too much honor, ka'naya Ranger. When that man shot Ranger Tarlac, I reacted the only way I could, as a newly commissioned officer of the Empire."