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They were out-clan; Tarlac knew better that to indulge the impulse that seemed so natural now, to hug his sponsor. There would be time for that, and for other things, when they reached home. Impatient, he started walking again. Hovan fell in beside him. "That seems only fair," he said, his tone amused.
Out-clan it not usual is, names to use instead of titles, but I think it would fitting be." Tarlac nodded; under the circumstances, it did seem appropriate. "I'm called Steve, then, Hovan. That's the short form of my given name." "Steve. A name that much of strength bears, from the sound." Steve of Clan Ch'kara.
And it wasn't the strangeness of being on Terra, or even in the Palace's Throne Room. This, despite its size and splendor, bore a strong similarity to a gathering hall, even though its dais supported the Throne instead of an altar. This place felt out-clan, nothing more sinister. His unease was due to something else, something his combat-honed senses insisted was like walking into an ambush.
Nor did it take long, once contact was made, for Ka'ruchaya Jarna to appear on the comscreen. Joste greeted her formally, crossing arms over his chest and inclining his head. Kunnos followed suit, bowing more deeply as befit an out-clan male. Jarna acknowledged the greeting, then looked curiously at Joste.
As they passed pictures and corridor intersections and doors labeled in the angular Traiti script, Tarlac spoke. "The Fleet-Captain says I'll have to be a member of one of your clans to take the Ordeal. Can you tell me why?" "Because parts of the Ordeal in-clan matters are, not with out-clan or clanless discussed. I can no more of that say." "Okay. I suppose I'll find out when the time comes."
For now, that was terribly limited, yet he would do what he could. He moved to sit close to the human, not touching him in this out-clan place, and spoke softly. "Ruhar" the intonation meant "brother/friend" "there no dishonor in fear, or in failure of the Ordeal, is. And I certain am that you will not fail. You Ch'kara have, whatever in this happens."
Arjen turned to her, inclining his head, and despite the discomfort that had led him to omit it before, addressed her with the formal honorific proper to an out-clan female. "I you hear, ka'naya Ship-Captain." "Ranger Tarlac believes you, so I'm forced to. But I'll also have to report to the Emperor. Why do you want him?" Arjen sighed deeply.
I didn't mean to go crying on your shoulder. Don't know why I did." Hovan rose, motioning Steve to follow. He had never heard of "crying on your shoulder," but could guess from context what the man meant, and thought it best not to go into something so personal, at least while Steve was out-clan. "Come. I will you our sleep-room show, while it still early is."
He waved a hand, indicating the others in the room. "You have part of my team seen. Now that you relaxed are, may I a favor ask?" "Sure, go ahead." "My men have humans fought and killed, but have never any truly met. If you willing are, they would like to you examine, and then questions ask. But you out-clan to all of us are; if you wish it not, none will offended be."
When the out-clan visitors had left the gathering hall and Channath had excused herself, Tarlac very deliberately went to Hovan and put his arms around his sponsor, his head on the massive chest. Hovan tensed at the touch, and Tarlac realized the Traiti couldn't help himself. Tarlac backed off, looking up. This time he had to relax Hovan. "Am I in-clan or not?" he demanded.
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