"She's Art Tanner's daughter, then?"

The Admiral nodded.

Instantly, Susan thought about her father. Like Renford, he too had been an admiral with Fleet, highly decorated during the Oromine rebellion. Both her father and her mother had died when she was two, in the New Year's Eve riot of '47.

"And she was in command during the Aldebaran affair?"

"That's right."

"I understand there was considerable physical damage," Hyatt said, and Susan looked down at her hands resting in her lap. For the first time in years they felt unnatural, alien.

"Her arms and hands," Renford said, looking at Susan, "and a metal plate in her head. But she's perfectly fine now. Her prosthetics are much stronger than flesh and bone could ever be." Without thought, Susan flexed her hands. "She can do things with them you wouldn't believe."

"And she hasn't piloted a ship since?"

The Admiral shook his head, his shaggy brows coming together in a frown.

Hyatt fell silent for a few seconds. Finally he said, "I don't think she's right for this-there's still too much publicity surrounding Aldebaran. And now, someone's trying to kill her."

"What you mean is you don't want any leaks," Renford said. "It might cause political embarrassment."

"Hang the political embarrassment," the small man squeaked. "I've dealt with it before, and survived. But you're right, I don't want any security leaks; I won't lose General Fund money over this."

"So, that's what this is all about."

"What else is there?"

The Admiral took a moment to calm himself, then said, "She can still handle your assignment, whatever it is. She possesess some rather unique capabilities."

"Has she been tested?"

Renford nodded. "She checks positive."

Tested? For what? Before Susan could ask, Hyatt spoke again.

"I'm afraid I am at a disadvantage here. You know your people, and I don't."

Both men were silent for several seconds. Renford rocked on his heels, his hands clasped behind his back, while the civilian chewed on his lower lip.