luck
would hold long enough for him to get out of this one.

"Nevan!"

The happy voice from behind him made it all too clear his luck had
changed. He turned and bowed respectfully to the approaching
warriors'-woman in Imperial Marine service black. "Good day, Lady
Morna. You're looking well."

She looked at him with affectionate appraisal, and shook her head
ruefully. "I can't say the same for you, I'm afraid. How long have
you been on the meds?"

"Almost a month," Nevan admitted. He might have been able to get away
with lying to another w'woman, but the lady Morna could tell--whether
by looking or by some form of Talent--almost to the day how long a
warrior had been using anti-need medications. And she didn't approve
of them being used any longer than was absolutely necessary.

"I thought so. Are you going to be around long enough for me to give
you a natural release?"

Nevan was tempted, but he shook his head. He'd have to leave as soon
as he could; now that his cover was blown, he had no choice but to give
up this try and start over. "I'm afraid I have to get back to Terra."

Morna nodded, glancing at the synthiskin-covered cheek. "Of course; I
didn't realize. But when you do, promise me that you'll find a w'woman
or warrior and get a decent natural release."

"I will, lady," Nevan replied, grateful for her understanding. "Or a
Traiti; some of the Palace Guard have given me good combat releases."

"That will do." Morna smiled at him. "At least you haven't gone six
months on the meds, the way you had when I first met you! But can you
stay a little while? Our autochef bakes good cookies. Including
chocolate chip."

Nevan chuckled, deciding that an hour or so shouldn't really make any
difference. "I'd like that; thanks."

* * * * *

The receiver in Owajima's ear chimed softly; he turned on his throat
mike--not the surgically implanted comm unit many ranking Imperials
were given, but the external type used as far back as pre-atomic
times--and answered. "Owajima here."

"DarLowrie went to the open house, Colonel--and one of those on the
destroyer static display recognized him. His name is Nevan, and he has
accepted an invitation to visit the ship."

"Nevan!" Owajima exclaimed. "What clan, do you know?"

"It was not said, but the largest clan group aboard is from Leras."

"Ah." Owajima was silent for several seconds, absorbing that. "Is
there a tattoo on