Not a ship of the Clan, certainly; nor yet the ship of an ally, the captain of which would have been given the pass-codes, hailing protocols, and some understanding of the capabilities of this, Korval's most secret and secure hidey-hole. This ship . . . This ship only sat there, making no attempt at contact, seeming to think itself both hidden and secure -- watching. Waiting. The urgent question being -- waiting for what? Alone in the control parlor, Luken bel'Tarda leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes, wearily. His wager, slim as it was, rested on the square marked "orders," while Lady Kareen, his collaborator in maintaining the integrity of Korval's treasure-house, had her coin on "back-up." That the fruition of either choice would do more than inconvenience themselves and that which they guarded was assured. With Plan B in effect, he and Lady Kareen were their own safety and rescue. Even if they had been inclined to endanger others of the Clan in these uncertain times, the news that reached them was not encouraging.
