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He was the last to be forced to his full potential, to complete the Circle of Lords. He could see now how he'd been quite literally molded, as Kranath had said, from the moment of his conception and he'd had a mostly-pleasant life. Since he could understand and appreciate the necessity, he could feel no resentment at the manipulation. It was as inevitable, historically, as the Traiti war itself.
And that was a certain indicator in any language. Lacking the word, it lacked the concept, and so did the people who spoke it. It was true that no Traiti had surrendered during the entire course of the war, and there had been speculation about the reason; the hypothesis that Traiti were incapable of it had gained some favor over the years. Tarlac wasn't glad to find it was right.
Tarlac seized that chance to find out how an ordinary Imperial citizen would react to the Traiti sexual imbalance. "I guess you've never seen a Traiti clan instead of their military, have you? Until now?" "Sir?" Jason looked puzzled, then shook his head. "No, sir, I haven't. Why?" "How many women would you say Ch'kara has? It's typical." "I didn't see many, sir, maybe a quarter of the ones here.
Fifty-nine of the Traiti warcraft were in positions that englobed a point in space a quarter-million n'liu from a blue-and-white oxygen planet over forty diameters out, nearly in the orbit of the planet's moon. The Hermnaen was still at the center of the twenty-n'liu-diameter sphere of ships, its Ship-Captain and crew waiting for Arjen's orders.
Imperial forces had clearly reached the Traiti core worlds, because for the first time the report mentioned dead females and children. His new people had run out of places to evacuate to.
The tape simply confirmed Hovan's account of the first human/Traiti meeting, adding little to Tarlac's knowledge except a sight of the guardship crew's intense horror when they saw women aboard an armed scout, being taken into danger only males should face. The human scouts had followed first-contact procedure, Tarlac found; the problem was the mixed crew, and there was no point in changing that.
He let his love enfold them as theirs had him, before he began to speak to the Traiti race. "You all know of me, and you know I was a Ranger of the Terran Empire. Your Speakers and Ship-Captains have told you why I took the Ordeal and what I've become." He paused, smiling. "What they didn't tell you, because they didn't know, is what you are. That's a duty I'm glad to perform.
"I don't see why I shouldn't do it, as long as it works both ways. I'd like to examine a live Traiti as much as they'd like to examine a live human." "That reasonable is. I willing am, to your subject be." Hovan called his men over, conveying Steve's assent, then stood relaxed. "I ready am."
Tarlac had a sudden mental picture of a Traiti trading war stories and combat techniques with one of the small dark-skinned blonds and it seemed more an inevitable picture than an odd one. "I wouldn't be a bit surprised if you did," he agreed. "But you still haven't told me why I'm being so well treated." "That simple is.
He hurt all the time, and was usually on the edge of nausea, making it difficult to eat. That, in turn, meant he'd lost weight he could ill afford. On the whole, he knew, he was in lousy shape probably his worst since the early part of his recuperation from that Traiti almost tearing him in half.
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