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Updated: June 9, 2025
I the freedom of the ship you give." "Thank you." There was no more doubt in Tarlac's mind that he was a guest. He still had his gun and was, it seemed, to be allowed to roam freely. He turned to his escort. "I'm at your disposal, Team-Leader. What do we do now?" "It past my normal duty-time is, and I hungry am," was the reply. "I food need, and sleep.
Tarlac's acquiescence helped but this was not going to be fun! And the next couple of hours were hard, for both of them. As the quidine wore off and the stingweed poison grew stronger, Dave wished his patient would pass out for both their sakes.
Guards had surrounded Emperor Davis at the first sign of trouble, and he motioned them back so he could look down at the scene: Hovan kneeling over Tarlac's bloody form as medics moved in, the Supreme shielding the First Speaker with his body, the courtiers milling around in confusion. Yes, events were working out as Tarlac had predicted. He seated himself again and called, "Cor'naya Hovan."
He took advantage of the safety to relieve himself, then he went back into the cave to check on his patient. Tarlac didn't seem to have moved, which Dave thought was probably just as well; at least that way he wouldn't irritate his injuries. But he swallowed hard when he pulled the blanket away from Tarlac's back, then had to run outside before he threw up all over their refuge.
Normally only Rangers and Life Nobles had that privilege, and seeing enemies so honored brought angry murmurs, even after the tapes all present had seen of Tarlac's account of the Ordeal, of Kranath's Vision. Tarlac heard the murmurs and smiled. If they thought this was bad, just wait!
If you something else prefer, one of my men some English speaks; he can as temporary escort for you act." Tarlac's internal clock said it was mid-afternoon, but this was as good a time as any to start changing his diurnal rhythms. "That's not necessary, Team-Leader." "Then come," Hovan said, and Traiti and human left the bridge.
All wore loose-fitting, brightly colored clothing, though there was no other uniformity of dress. Styles varied by clan and by individual taste, from what most Imperials would consider barely decent to full-coverage robes. They did have one other thing in common. Much to Tarlac's amazement, all seemed genuinely cheerful. He turned to his sponsor. "Don't they know how the war's going?"
By Tarlac's inner clock, though, it was still too early to sleep. And so much had happened that he wasn't sure he could have slept if it were late for him instead. So he lay there in the dark silence, hands linked behind his head, and let his thoughts wander. He had plenty to think about, and not enough solid facts to make any conclusions reliable.
Tarlac seated himself cross-legged on his sleeping mat, where Hovan promptly joined him to translate for the others. Then the questioning started, hesitantly at first, not touching on anything too significant until Tarlac's quiet manner and responsive answers put the commandos at ease. When that happened, the questions became more searching. "Do humans honor have?" one asked.
There was no doubt in Tarlac's mind that if he made it through the Ordeal to end the war, it would be Hovan's doing as much as his own. Hovan's teaching, his quiet support, and most of all his caring, were what would bring the Ranger through his Ordeal if it were humanly possible. He'd have to see that Hovan got the credit he deserved.
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