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The underbrush, while light, was growing too irregularly for him to settle into the ground-eating lope a Traiti fighter could maintain all day. Keeping down to walking speed frustrated him since St'nar needed all its pilots, including him, in the current battle with N'chark. But he'd survived the crash; he'd fly for St'nar again.
"If they are aboard a battle cruiser," Valla objected, "how can we destroy them? You know how powerful and well-armed those ships are." Thark nodded. "True. But our ships are no smaller than Traiti warcraft, and they destroyed several such cruisers without the advantage of Talent to tell them the humans' intentions. It will not be easy, but it can be done." "It will cost us many lives."
While few humans could honestly claim to have seen a live Traiti in the nearly ten years the Terran Empire had been at war with them, everyone knew what they looked like. They were big, the males at least averaging about 250 kilos, two meters tall heavy, but not fat because of greater-than-human tissue density.
Ray Kennard had come up with an idea that might keep imprisoned Traiti alive, at least long enough to be questioned before they succumbed to the prisoner psychosis that so inevitably killed the ones who could be kept from suicide. He'd gone with the boarding party despite Hobison's objections. He'd seen his first live Traiti then, with its leathery gray skin and sharklike face.
There wasn't much talk after that, the serious questions seeming to have run out, and in the shuffle that followed of Traiti settling into their bedrolls for the night, Tarlac spent a moment considering his surprise at their action. The Traiti hadn't waited a night or even an hour to correct something which surely was not an urgent mistreatment.
When the messenger returned and had taken his place in the sleeping room, Hovan touched a control on the bulkhead to darken the room. Then he said a couple of words, and all but Tarlac joined him in what the Ranger thought could be a prayer, a chant, or a song. Whatever it was, he liked it; the sounds in the musical Traiti language evoked peace. When it was over, the room grew quiet.
Tarlac saw the gesture as it began and waited for it, unflinching. He didn't move, even at Hovan's slow smile; he sensed reassurance, not threat. Why was he adapting so quickly so easily! to Traiti patterns? How could he adapt so easily? Especially since he was almost totally ignorant about them?
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."
"We could've, but it wasn't necessary," Medart said. "I was able to use persuasion instead along with five battle fleets to show them the alternative to peace. They'd managed to take over almost half of Sector Five by then, but they accepted annexation as a Subsector, and they've been loyal citizens ever since." "You missed a Sandeman war," Ariel said thoughtfully, "and we missed a Traiti war.
A rescue ship sent to check on the scout had had time to describe its attackers before it was destroyed as well. The third ship was the Emperor Chang, a battle cruiser which survived its Traiti attack and brought word that, like it or not, the Empire was at war with an unreasoning enemy. Traiti hostility was long proven, but Tarlac could no longer believe it was unreasoning.
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