2
risks were a normal part of life for both of them, to be accepted and even savored for the spice they added.
He had done all he could here, in the Records Section; he lowered his mind-shield and reached out. *Thakur?*
Her answer was prompt, and he smiled to himself, enjoying the cool clarity of her mind-touch. *What results, thakur-na?* she asked.
*About what we expected. Kelly told me the agent was Logistics Officer at a base on Piper's World during the Traiti counter-attacks there, but he never told me which base, and the description he gave fits five of them. I was able to eliminate two of those because the Logistics Officers were female -- but that still leaves three. I'm going to have to go under cover to find the right one.*
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