Finally the inner door cycled open and Tarlac stepped through, to confront what he thought of as a commando squad. There were seven of them, with insignia indicating what Intelligence evaluations said should be six troopers and a junior officer. They were unarmored but otherwise in full battle gear, all standing in what the Ranger guessed might be the Traiti version of attention: relaxed yet alert, holding grounded blast rifles, right hands resting on dagger hilts. He had time to notice disruptors and shortswords on the commandos' belts in addition to the daggers, before the officer snapped him a salute that would have done credit to an Imperial Marine. He was motionless for an instant in surprise, then he returned the salute as crisply as his spacesuit would allow. "Ranger Esteban Tarlac of the Terran Empire." "Team-Leader Hovan of Clan Ch'kara. Need you help, that suit to remove?" The squad remained alert, but gave no more hint of threat than before. Tarlac shrugged mentally. "I'd appreciate it, yes." Hovan handed his blast-rifle to one of his squad members and approached Tarlac. He looked as massive as the Ranger expected, and was typically thickset, but he was even heavier and stronger than he looked. The strength became evident as Hovan helped Tarlac out of the spacesuit, for with Traiti assistance, the Ranger discovered, the cumbersome suit was almost easy to handle. While he helped the human remove his spacesuit, Hovan did some studying of his own, wondering what made a Ranger so formidable. This Tarlac was even less impressive physically than the Terran combat troops he'd faced. He was no more than shoulder-high to Hovan, and so slender he seemed almost frail. There was black hair on the man's head, and obvious facial differences, but the thin light-brown skin and total lack of claws or effective teeth were not impressive. What made this human so powerful? There had to be something, he knew, some reason for the prisoners to hold Rangers in such high regard. Part of it had to be courage; he'd been told, while the man was en route, that he had already consented to the Ordeal, a decision nobody had expected him to make so quickly. There had even been some betting that he would refuse. The plain, forest-green uniform revealed when the man's spacesuit was off was functional, Hovan noticed with approval, its only decoration the platinum star-in-circle badge on the man's left breast, the symbol of his rank. Best, though, was the fact that Tarlac was armed, showing he regarded them as true fighters. That eased Hovan's mind. Ka'ruchaya Yarra had told him to judge the Terran he would meet, and if he found the man worthy, to offer adoption into Ch'kara. It would be an unprecedented honor for Hovan, as well as the Terran, if that happened; adoption was a Clan Mother's privilege, delegated sometimes to another female, never in Hovan's knowledge to a male.