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Dammit, humans and Traiti had been at war for years, and he was human in everything but the past day's experiences! Well, he was adapting; that was another fact he had to accept. He returned Hovan's smile and touched one of the deadly claws. "I'm in your hands." Morning at Ch'kara's main clanhome on Norvis came in the middle of Hovan's sleep period.
The cycle had already ended, ten years ago, when the Empire and Traiti had first met. The Traiti were no longer isolated, whatever happened. And he'd already accepted responsibility for determining the new cycle, by agreeing to the Ordeal. If it was death, he'd share it.
That seldom happened without one or both contestants being wounded, though the judge would stop a match before anyone was maimed or killed. While he was a very interested spectator, Tarlac didn't participate in either the betting or the matches, which meant that few of the Traiti considered him a real fighter.
Despite Hovan's attempts to explain, Tarlac didn't quite understand how some of what the Traiti had accomplished could be done on such a seemingly casual basis, and he could only suppose they would find the human bureaucracy equally puzzling. The two civilizations were most similar, ironically enough, in the structure of their military forces.
Despite what he could only think of as having his innermost mind forcibly stretched, then stuffed to near-capacity before being stretched again into what felt like hyperdimensions, he was in absolutely no pain. Instead, he felt . . . Exaltation. He'd been made into what a number of humans and Traiti would be in time.
What did surprise the people on the Lindner's bridge was that the Traiti on the screen was smiling, exposing those shark-like teeth in an expression that might or might not mean pleasure but that certainly looked menacing. When Arjen spoke, his voice provided another surprise.
According to Captain Willis, that means you are bringing Us the peace We wish." "I bring a good chance for peace, Your Majesty, in the persons of the Traiti rulers and Team-Leader Hovan, who gave me the support and training I needed to survive the Ordeal." Tarlac repressed a smile at that misleading technicality. He'd survived, yes for less than a minute. "We welcome them to the Empire.
This was what he'd offered his life to achieve, expecting only a death he'd thought would be final. He had brought peace, peace the Traiti could accept with full honor peace that meant life for Ch'kara, for Sandre and the twins, for Daria and the youngling she shared with Steve.
Language took more time, but was essential since not many Traiti spoke Imperial English at all, and even fewer spoke it as well as Arjen and Hovan. Tarlac found Language a challenge. English had become universal on Terra and its colonies, even where other languages were spoken; he'd never had to speak anything else, though he'd learned to read the cloudcats' tongue-talk.
You might stay fairly sober, but I won't be able to, even if I were used to drinking. I'll probably make an ungodly fool of myself." Hovan grinned. "Probably, and it expected is. The wine mild is because you small are. If you Traiti were, we would something stronger drinking be. No adoption party successful is, unless the new ruhar must in bed poured be." Tarlac had to laugh.
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