He knew it was a shock for the clan to lose someone in the Ordeal, and only Ch'kara had ever lost a member to the Scarring and had him reappear as a Lord. And he was newly adopted and an alien; it was the clan that needed to be helped most, and calling on it for support would, paradoxically, let it recover most quickly. Yet he knew it was his plea for help, nothing more abstract, that moved Hovan. The Traiti finally embraced him. "You are in-clan, ruhar. Never doubt that. But may I ask why you want me to go?" His cheek pressed against gray skin, smelling its tension-sharp odor, Tarlac said, "Yes. Partly because I need you, partly because you'll have to translate for the Supreme and First Speaker--Lord Carle gave you an advanced course in English, so your grammar wouldn't cause any misunderstandings--and partly because I plan to recommend that the Empire integrate your Fleet into the Navy and Marines. If you're willing, I'd like to start that by commissioning you myself, before I leave this body for good." Hovan, absently stroking Steve's hair, looked at his Ka'ruchaya and the clan's Speaker. Yarra nodded approval; Daria, smiling, made a gesture of negation as if to say, "I am not needed to Speak here." That was true enough, Hovan thought. Steve--Lord Esteban, to give him his proper title--was speaking for himself. "I am willing. Steve, ruhar, you do me great honor." "No greater than you and Ch'kara did me," Tarlac said, realizing how solemn they all were. He'd prefer a lighter mood. "But hey, this is starting to sound like a mutual admiration society. Would anyone else like some chovas?" The four adjourned to a small dining hall, to find themselves anticipated. Four mugs of the steaming beverage waited for them, and they drank silently. For the rest of the day, Tarlac was given the unobtrusive but unmistakable support that his n'ruhar needed to give--and it helped them moderate awe to the acceptance, casual but touched with deep respect, they held for the other Lords. By evening, their emotions were subsiding to a certain permanent pride that Ch'kara had given a Lord to the Circle. It helped Tarlac, as well. He'd grown pleasantly accustomed to the clan's support and closeness--its love--and he'd regretted the loss of it that seemed inevitable. He came to realize, however, that as long as Ch'kara existed he would have its love, giving him a peace he could never have imagined before attaining his new maturity. That night, while his body was surrounded by sleeping n'ruhar, Tarlac took advantage of his new powers to explore. Having the freedom of the galaxy was exhilarating, far better than the suit-enclosed EVA he'd enjoyed before. No helmet blocked his view, and if he wanted to, he could perceive the entirety of what surrounded him. He reveled in it, swooping from system to system, observing for himself what Kranath and the others had told him.