"Do humans honor have?" one asked. "I'm not really sure just how you use the term," Tarlac said slowly, "so I'll have to go by the human ideal. We have a few cultures, mostly warrior ones like the Sandeman and Tharn, that are honor-directed, but in the rest of the Empire I'd have to say most people don't. Not the way warrior races define it, anyway, and I've got a hunch you're more like them, at least in that way, than you're like the rest of the Empire. Outside of the warrior cultures, it's the military that thinks most about honor, though not even all of them care; to a lot of civilians . . ." The Ranger hesitated, frowning. "Well, honor and profit just don't seem to mix." "You different are," another said. "Why?" Tarlac shrugged. "I don't quite know. Maybe because I've always been something of an idealist." He grinned. "Though I was called a lot of other things before I was recruited." "All Rangers like you are, in that?" "Idealists? Yes, or they wouldn't be Rangers." "Is it true there female Rangers are?" "Sure. Right now, three of them. We can't afford to discriminate, not for any job. Local affairs aren't an Imperial concern, so some do things differently, but the Empire itself doesn't judge anything but what you can do. Especially if the comps and Sovereign agree that you've got what it takes to be a Ranger." That got a murmur of some sort, and from the tone Tarlac guessed it was disapproval. Hovan didn't translate; instead, he said something that silenced them. "It's okay, Hovan," Tarlac said, not offended but curious. "What is it?" "They say that insane is. Not only that you females in such danger place, but that you machines use, your best to choose. I them told, there so many humans are, you no choice have." Tarlac nodded, surprised. "Right! Well, mostly. The comps don't exactly choose; they just eliminate the ones who don't measure up to the specs. Which, I admit, doesn't leave many. Then the Sovereign checks the comp's choices, and sends a Ranger to invite the ones @ chooses. After that, only about a quarter of those who're asked to join, refuse." His expression sobered. "I almost did refuse, almost decided to go into the Navy instead of taking Linda's offer. I'm glad I didn't. I'd've had more security, but a lot less challenge." "Or danger?" Hovan was smiling. "Or danger," Tarlac agreed. Hovan's translation of that got a discussion going. The Ranger remained silent, listening to the commandos and enjoying the musical sounds of their speech. He felt oddly at ease, sitting open and relaxed in the group of beings whose appearance was so sharklike; he was well aware that in a similar situation with a human enemy, he would have been anything but at ease. When Hovan turned back to him and started to speak, Tarlac held up his hand. "About time for one of my questions, isn't it?" "Ask."