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Marguerre didn't know what caused the loathing he could sense from the three massive Traiti, but it was intense enough to frighten him in spite of almost a year's active combat. Still, fear or no fear, he wasn't about to tell them what they wanted to know. He shook his head. "Sorry, that's all I'm allowed to say."
He'd already begun to see how complex the Traiti were, much more so than the Empire suspected. The Empire's knowledge was limited to these people's savage ferocity or what seemed like savage ferocity. The war had exploded suddenly and simply: a scoutship exploring about 150 parsecs coreward from Irschcha had fallen silent.
Not long after their meal, the two were being escorted through the halls of the single building atop a low hill called Godhome, located in the center of the Traiti capital. Tarlac, not wanting his skepticism to be too obvious, had cautiously asked why the gods needed a material home.
That made their arrival at the Security section a relief, since Sunbeam had promised it would be their last stop. It was obvious to Corina that Colonel Greggson wasn't particularly glad to see them, but he was polite, clearly on his best behavior until Major Dawson entered. "Good afternoon, Sir Corina," Dawson said with a grin. "That's quite a wallop you pack almost like getting hit by a Traiti.
"Dell, of Raynor," Ryan said, his voice changing as another chief spoke. "Why did none of this universe's Terrans make such an effort?" "You didn't give them a chance. They know you the way we knew the Traiti as ferocious, bloodthirsty killers. It took the Traiti asking one of my colleagues to take their Ordeal of Honor for him and later the rest of us to learn about them as they really are.
Peacelord Esteban." "The one who kept that war from happening by doing the same here," the Traiti said. "He was able to determine the reason for the first incident, and then the way to prevent escalation. His courage in coming to us alone, we believe, saved millions of lives." "Try billions," Medart said.
The first Ondrian colonists had thought the cloudcats unintelligent predators; why shouldn't the Traiti have assumed the same thing, or maybe decided they were pets? "Yes, they're intelligent. They can't talk; they use their tongues for gestural communication, and to handle things. They're outstanding artists, too."
"Ruhar, I don't know enough about Traiti ways to make an intelligent choice. I'll do whatever you recommend." Hovan stopped and turned toward the green-uniformed human. "Ruhar, you do me honor. Stay, then, with me." And, gently, he touched one hand, claws fully extended, to the side of Steve's throat. His claws were to protect, not to harm, his clanmate.
She seemed to see the funeral from two viewpoints at once: her own, the film in history class, and Jim's being there. Then came the Conclave that elected Forrest as Crown Prince when Davis became Emperor. Then war struck. Fragmentary memories of battle flickered by, then came a chance to capture a Traiti ship.
At least he didn't have to worry about the food; bio-studies had shown that Traiti and humans had the same basic nutritional requirements and limitations. No Traiti food should poison him. Finally Hovan pushed back his tray, his meal finished. "Ranger Esteban Tarlac. We will much together be; object you if we not formal are?
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