Medart intended to do his best. He snorted to himself. He'd gotten the challenge he wanted, all right—gotten it in spades, and very possibly more of one than he could handle.

As he'd told Captain Chavvorth, though, he'd have to try to meet even such an impossible-seeming challenge. He had no idea at the moment how he'd meet it, but he was sure it'd have to be something unconventional. He was positive that this universe's people were every bit as competent as the ones at home; they'd have done all the conventional things as well as he could. Probably better, since this was their universe and they knew how it worked.

Chavvorth interrupted his train of thought. "If you will key the lock, sir?"

"Right." Medart placed his hand against the door's lock-plate, keying it to his palm-print. The two entered when the door slid open; Medart immediately went to the service panel for a fresh cup of coffee. "Want some more chovas?"

"No, thank you. A cup of Blue Ginger, perhaps?"

"You got it." Medart entered the appropriate order, took the steaming cup when it appeared, and handed it to the Traiti, then took his own seat. "You said you'd start teaching me magic. I know better than to tell a teacher how to teach, but I have a feeling I'm going to need something I wasn't wearing when Ranger Ariel summoned me. So I think I'd better learn that summoning spell first."

Chavvorth looked uncomfortable, but shook his head. "Such a summoning is dangerous even for an experienced magician—far too dangerous for a novice, particularly one who is also a Ranger. No, I will not teach you that spell. But I will attempt to summon this object myself, if you will describe it."

Medart frowned. He wasn't used to having his requests refused, even for his own safety—a Ranger was presumed to be able to evaluate risks and take only necessary ones. On the other hand, he didn't know enough about magic to make such an evaluation accurately, and his first attempt at using it had injured an Imperial officer … so maybe he'd better accept the refusal gracefully. "All right, Captain. But if it's that dangerous, I'd hesitate to risk an IBC's captain, either. Don't you have any magical specialists?"

"Yes, of course. Next to Ranger Ariel, Major Treschler is our most accomplished magician, and he has been successful with summonings."

"Get him to do it, then. I may be able to do better than a description of what I need, though—I'd better be, or there won't be any point in getting it. Emperor Barton, do your records include twentieth-century entertainment tapes?"

"Yes, Ranger. I have a complete selection."

"Then if they exist here, you've got the Star Wars movies."

"Yes, sir. They do, and I have."

"Good! I'd like close-ups of Lord Vader's lightsaber, please, from as many angles as possible."

"It will be about ten seconds." The ship paused for that time, then said, "Completed; they are in your fabricator."

"Thank you." Medart went into the sleeping area to get the stills, then returned to the living area and handed them to Chavvorth. "Mine looks like this. It's in my quarters aboard the Empress Lindner."

Chavvorth took the pictures, clearly puzzled. "An object from an old entertainment tape?"

"Right, and I'd recommend close study of the movies, too—Lord Vader in particular. The Sandemans at home regard those movies as classics, and based several aspects of their culture on them. The first clan formed after Overthrow is named for Lord Vader, for instance, and the clothing they call honor-black is based on his armor and robes. They put a lot of effort into developing real lightsabers, too—I got mine as a death-gift from the warrior Leigh DarVader, and I wear it on ceremonial occasions or when I'm in Sandeman territory."

Chavvorth came as close to frowning as most Traiti could manage. "I hope you do not intend to confront them personally."

"I think I'm going to have to. There isn't anything I can do long-range that your own Rangers can't; what I can do is talk to them on their own terms."

"I understand." Chavvorth rose. "I will give these to Major Treschler and ask him to start preparations immediately."

"Thanks." Medart watched him leave, then asked the ship for a basic magic text. If he was going to have to confront hostile Sandemans again, he wanted every bit of knowledge and skill he could manage.

He was perhaps a third of the way through the tape when the ship informed him the Emperor was calling. He went to the screen, pleased to see that this universe's Sovereign looked like he was standing up well to the strains of war. "Ranger James Medart of Alpha Prime, Your Majesty. I'm at your Empire's service."

"I'm pleased to meet you, Ranger Medart, though I must apologize for having you taken away from your own Empire."

"No apologies needed, sir. Things were quiet at home, and I was planning to ask for temporary out-universe duty. It seems I've made friends out of your current enemies once before, so I get the challenge of trying to do it again."

The Emperor smiled. "I'm glad to hear you feel that way, Ranger. I'm not sure it'll be possible to make friends out of the Sandemans, but I'm not asking for a miracle; it'll be enough if you can just stop them from destroying the Empire."

"I'll do my best, sir. What resources can I call on?"

"Anything that's not actually engaged in combat. Or anything that is, if you consider it essential, including myself and the Rangers."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. In that case, I'd like to borrow the best magic teacher available; I won't be much real good until I can control the power I accidentally burned Captain Chavvorth with."

The Emperor frowned. "I saw the record tape of that, Jim. We don't have any teachers who can give you control of that much power without limiting it—the only ones who might even come close are the Sandemans, and they're not likely to want to help an Imperial."

"In that case, I'd like the fastest small ship available—something on the order of a courier—with a volunteer crew, to take me to Sandeman territory. I'll tape everything I know about them on the way, so you'll have that information whatever happens to me."

"What do you plan to do?"

"I don't know, exactly," Medart admitted. "That depends a lot on exactly how closely these Sandemans parallel the ones in Alpha Prime—and on how they feel about some incidents that took place there. But I do know, as I told Captain Chavvorth, that I can't do anything at long range that your people can't do at least as well. The only thing I have that they don't is over a hundred and a quarter years of friendship with Sandemans."

"That long?" The Emperor looked concerned. "Just how old are you, Ranger Medart?"

"A hundred and seventy-five, Your Majesty—but the anti-agathics are still working fine; I have the same physical abilities I did when I started them at eighteen."

"Understood. All right, Ranger; you were on full duty, and you obviously know more about them than we do, so I can't reasonably order you to stay away, however dangerous a situation I believe you're going into."

"It is dangerous, Your Majesty—I don't have any illusions about that. I fought them before I brought them into our Empire, and they scared the stuffing out of me then. These have an extra century and a quarter of development, a hell of a lot bigger civilization, and magic, so they scare me even worse. But the only chance I see for your Empire is going in, so I have to do it." He paused. "I was brought here with no chance to inform Alpha Prime's Emperor Kennard. If I'm able to return, I can explain things myself; if I can't, for whatever reason, I'd appreciate it if you'd notify my Sovereign of the circumstances."

"I'll see to it, Ranger. Is there anything else?"

"Just one thing, if I can indulge my curiosity."

The Emperor chuckled. "A weakness you know I share. Go ahead."

"In my universe, you have limited precognition. Do you foresee