e able to, even if I were used to drinking. I'll probably make an
ungodly fool of myself."

Hovan grinned. "Probably, and it expected is. The wine mild is
because you small are. If you Traiti were, we would something stronger
drinking be. No adoption party successful is, unless the new ruhar must
in bed poured be."

Tarlac had to laugh. "By that standard, ruhar, this'll likely be the
most successful adoption party in Traiti history! But let's not make
it a success too early, okay? I'm hungry."

"Food good sounds," Hovan agreed. "And I will with you stay, in case
anything must translated be. Ka'ruchaya Yarra and I the only two are,
who much English speak."

Several more drink-trades later, Tarlac made it to one of the
well-stocked tables and built himself a thick sandwich. That process
got quite a few interested comments, but by Traiti custom none were
addressed to him until he'd finished eating. When he was done, the
interest in getting him drunk was replaced, at least temporarily, by
inquiries about the new way of fixing something to eat. It was hard
for the Ranger to believe that people as enthusiastic about food as the
Traiti hadn't either stumbled across something as simple as a sandwich,
or purposely developed it, but their keen attention and the eager
experimentation that followed made it clear they hadn't.

Unfortunately for Tarlac's sobriety, that respite didn't last long.
Within half an hour, his n'ruhar were again introducing themselves.
Hovan wasn't needed often as a translator; with so many anxious to meet
their new relative, Tarlac had very limited opportunities for
conversation.

He soon lost any trace of doubt that he would live up to custom, too,
whether he wanted to or not. By the time about a third of those in the
gathering hall had introduced themselves, he had a distinct buzz on.
He had also come to the firm, if rather woozy, conclusion that these
people, his new family, were the finest in the galaxy. Especially the
big gray-skinned guy beside him, the brother he'd never had. Before.

He was never sure, later, how many more of Ch'kara he did meet. Things
were getting blurry and disconnected, and never improved. He did
remember singing, probably off-key, and later hanging onto Hovan's arm
for support.

Hovan felt a tug on his sleeve and looked down to see a silly grin on
Steve's upturned face. The man mumbled something, so slurred Hovan
couldn't make it out, then released H