ake."

There were a few exclamations of disbelief from those of the bridge
crew who understood enough English to know what had been said, but they
were quickly silenced by Arjen's glare.

"Ch'kara's Ka'ruchaya generous is," the Fleet-Captain said. "But this
assignment secret was. How knew she?"

"Our Speaker her informed. No breach there was."

When Arjen nodded as though that explained everything, Tarlac had to
resist an impulse to shake his head violently. It felt as if it were
full of cobwebs. Hovan needing his Clan Mother's permission to perform
an adoption wasn't too hard to accept; at least nominally, women ran
families in quite a few cultures. But a "Speaker" being able to give
out classified information was damn near incredible--and having it
accepted so matter-of-factly made it even worse. Still, he couldn't
object; he was a guest here, and Hovan was going on. "He should a
proper ceremony have, or as close as may under war conditions done be.
Will you have any n'Cor'naya who free are, in the exercise hall
assemble?"

"Of course, Cor'naya. In half a tenth-day?"

"Fine," Hovan said. "Afterwards, I must a message to Ch'kara's
clanhome on Norvis send, clan priority."

"You will it have," Arjen replied.

"My thanks."

With that, Hovan and Tarlac left the bridge, going to the meal hall to
wait the hour or so that was "half a tenth-day." Once they were
settled with mugs of hot chovas, Tarlac said, "You must have one hell
of a lot of clan status."

"Enough," Hovan said with a smile. "I have six younglings shared, and
I have an officer been for almost a year. That does status bring, near
what Ch'kara's oldest male enjoys, close to Ka'ruchaya Yarra and she
who for the Lords speaks, Daria."

Well, Tarlac thought with amused chagrin, there went his last night's
speculation about females being property. He must have been tireder
than he'd thought--he should never have gotten that idea after Hovan
had referred to a Clan Mother administering the death penalty! Oh,
well. "If it's not prying, how old are you?"

"You will soon of Ch'kara be; no prying is. I thirty-five Homeworld
years have, almost forty-six Imperial Standard. You?"

"Thirty-five too, but Standard."

Hovan made a quick calculation. "Twenty-seven, Homeworld. And you
already a Ranger are? That hard to believe is. How?"

"It's not really a matter of age," Tarlac said. "They grab all of us
young, on purpose. They got me whe