times it gets lonely. I think I'm almost looking
forward to being adopted, odd as that may seem at my age." Then he
shrugged. "Sorry, Hovan. I didn't mean to go crying on your shoulder.
Don't know why I did."

Hovan rose, motioning Steve to follow. He had never heard of "crying
on your shoulder," but could guess from context what the man meant, and
thought it best not to go into something so personal, at least while
Steve was out-clan. "Come. I will you our sleep-room show, while it
still early is."

Tarlac went along, surprised at his self-revelation. He'd seldom
mentioned the occasional loneliness before, even to the other Rangers,
who shared it. It didn't fit the image. He grinned sardonically for a
second. Image. Hah. Thanks to the image, not even newsies pushed a
Ranger too hard, and nobody else pushed at all. Nobody with any
brains, at least.

Hovan interrupted his brooding. "What can you of the Empire and
Rangers say? I wish not to intrude or offend, but I curious am."

Tarlac gave that a moment's thought, and found the answer an easy one.
"Quite a bit, as a matter of fact. I'll tell you anything you want to
know, except classified military information. Your High Command must
know as well as I do how this war's gone up to now."

"Telling us even that would little difference make," Hovan said
quietly. "You know not how close you to victory are. In less than
another year, there will no more Traiti be."

The Ranger stopped where he was, deeply shocked. "Hovan, what are you
saying? The Empire isn't out to commit genocide! We don't kill
non-combatants on purpose!"

"No such thing as noncombatants is. When we to Homeworld retreat, we
no other place to go will have. All will fighters be, except the very
youngest. It happened so, in the clan wars nearly four thousand years
ago."

Hovan's calm words meant the Empire was in the process of exterminating
an entire intelligent race, a crime more monstrous than any recorded in
the history of all three Imperial races combined. And the Empire
didn't even know it! The Ranger would have cursed, but not even a
space-scout's inventive vocabulary could express his feelings.

Not really expecting an affirmative answer, Tarlac asked, "Can they--the
women and children, anyway--can any of them surrender?"

"No word for that in Language is," Hovan said. "We the concept from
humans learned. They cannot."

And that was a certain indicator in any lan