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Updated: June 13, 2025
"Your Majesty, if this succeeds, all of us will be working for the interests of both races combined." A driving surge of hope erased some of the Emperor's fatigue. "What do you want me to do?" The next morning, as promised, the Supreme and First Speaker met Tarlac and Hovan at the Hermnaen's loading ramp.
"What will be done with him? And why would he shoot Ranger Tarlac?" "Did you see the button he was wearing?" the Major asked. At Hovan's nod, he went on. "He's a Humanity Firster. They're a bunch of fanatics and troublemakers, though we never thought anyone, even one of them, would be stupid enough to do something like this.
When the Emperor did look over at the screen, Tarlac was shocked to see the strain etched into his face. Davis looked ten years older, and utterly worn out. Then fatigue gave way to a startled grin. "Steve! You did it! Will you be back soon?" "Yes, Your Majesty, to both. I'm on the Traiti Homeworld, and I'll be leaving, aboard one of their cruisers, in about five hours.
He put a warm, wet cloth over the Ranger's eyes, then went on. "I'll finish cleaning you up while those soften. I did your back while you were asleep." The scrubbing started again, and Tarlac let out a yell. Dave stopped. "I'm being as careful and gentle as I can, sir. I don't want to hurt you, but I do have to get you clean." He frowned. "It won't make you better, though.
Your transmission or should I say illusion? doesn't have a background. That might have a lot of causes, but could Kranath's Vision have been a reenactment? There were no mindprobes around five thousand years ago to record it." He glanced again at the comscreen control panel, its master switch turned off. "You, or part of you, is right here, Lord Esteban Tarlac isn't it?"
I didn't know you very well." "I understand. You never anyone met, who more to you than the Empire meant." Hovan shook his head. "That a thing of much sadness is." Tarlac didn't answer. They were at the dining room by then, and food, not conversation, was in order.
Channath's sharp "Now!" as she and the human doctor moved toward the Ranger freed Hovan to kneel beside Steve and raise the man's head. "You made it, Cor'naya," he said quietly, with pride. "You succeeded, as I was sure you would." Tarlac forced unwilling eyes open, looking up into the familiar gray face he'd learned to respect, then to love. "I really made it?" he asked in a whisper.
Tarlac tossed his head, muscles no longer locked by agony though he still fought the pain assaulting his weakened system. He coughed, spitting out a last mouthful of the bitter froth, and took a deep, gasping breath as he collapsed to the dais. The inviting dark beckoned more seductively, its promise of an end to pain harder and harder to fight . . . No! He had to resist that pull!
Fleet-Captain Arjen, in uniform again and obviously proud of this honor, was waiting to greet them. He bowed respectfully to the human in Ranger green. "Lord Esteban." Tarlac touched his shoulder, to emphasize the fact that he was still using a physical body. "Not necessary for now, Fleet-Captain. Let's keep things looking as normal as possible." Arjen straightened. "Yes, Lord."
That was no real surprise; spacers in general were more adaptable than ground-pounders they had to be and Rangers excelled at that, as at almost everything. Given the need and a little time, he could adapt to any humanly-conceivable circumstances . . . though of course some things took longer than others. So far, Tarlac was finding nothing too difficult in the Traiti pattern.
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