her voice, addressing her
Weapons Officer. "Lieutenant Dawes, concentrated primary fire on their
flagship--"

"Hold it," Tarlac interrupted. "There's something peculiar here. If
they'd wanted us dead, they could've opened fire as soon as we
out-transitioned. Since they didn't, let's see if we can find out just
what they do want."

"Yes, sir," Willis said. "Hold your fire, Lieutenant, but be ready."

"Aye, Captain." Dawes was poised, tense, his fingers hovering almost
in contact with his firing studs.

"What the--!" came an exclamation from the Communications Officer.
"Sir, I'm getting a signal from them!"

"Put it on the screen," Willis ordered, inwardly amused. The idea of a
Traiti who wanted to talk instead of fight ought to be astonishing--but
not much could astonish an IBC's crew. They were too used to the
out-of-the-ordinary events a Ranger seemed to attract to be astonished by
much less than a divine manifestation. Even a Traiti appearing on a
communicator screen didn't justify much more than Matthews'
startlement.

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. They also had skin like soft but
armor-tough gray leather, an ovoid head with bulges at top and sides
set more horizontally on the short neck than a human's, with small
eyes, slit nostrils, lipless shark-toothed mouth, and no external
ears--but except for those and semi-retractile claws on their hands, the
biologists insisted that Traiti were so much like humans it ought to
indicate a common ancestor somewhere.

What did surprise the people on the Lindner's bridge was that the
Traiti on the screen was smiling, exposing those shark-like teeth in an
expression that might or might not mean pleasure but that certainly
looked menacing.

When Arjen spoke, his voice provided another surprise. It was deep,
not unexpectedly, but it was also soft, carrying an almost lilting
intonation that made his Imperial English oddly attractive. "We no
harm mean, Ship-Captain. I must to your superior speak."

He turned his attention to the green-clad Ranger, crossing his arms
over his chest and inclining his head briefly in courtesy. "Ranger
Esteban Tarlac. I you greetings bring, from the