When Tarlac woke the next morning he felt good, almost euphoric, eased of a tension he'd lived with for so long he'd forgotten he had it. Daria was also awake, he realized, and those who had been with them the night before were now gone. He put his arms around her. "Ka'ruhar . . . it was unbelievable." He remembered the night with delight, and appreciation for something he'd never expected to experience--the unity with another person, someone who treated him as a person instead of a symbol. "Such sharing is always good," she said serenely, running gentle claws down his back. "And we share more, my Steve. I bear our ka'esten." "Our daughter." Tarlac, beyond surprise, couldn't question her knowledge of pregnancy or of the baby's sex. He took a moment to sort out his reactions. He knew Daria was pleased--he couldn't deny that in a way he was pleased himself!--but this made it certain. One way or another, this was his last mission as a Ranger. He'd told Hovan what might happen if he returned to the Empire with a clan and family, but he hadn't really expected to have to leave the only group of friends he'd known. That would be a wrench. Still . . . he remembered the feeling of belonging he'd had at the altar, and Daria's undeniable concern for him. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad a deal, at that, if he somehow survived. He might be gaining more than he lost . . . a badge for a daughter. Jim and Linda for Hovan and Daria. Yeah, that seemed fair enough. Tarlac smiled, already a bit nostalgic. Guess you'll have to find yourself another Ranger, Jean, he thought. Looks like if I ever ride the Lindner again, it'll be as a passenger. Then his attention turned fully to Daria, and the idea of being a father. It turned out to be a surprisingly pleasant idea. He felt brief concern about how their daughter would be accepted, but decided that shouldn't be a problem, since he'd been accepted. Something else was more important. "Daria, ka'ruhar--what happens to her, and to you, if I fail? Not if I die trying this; I know Ch'kara will take care of you both. But if I can't end the war, and the Empire invades Homeworld?" Her serenity was unimpaired. "I believe you will not fail, that you will watch her grow. To ease your mind, though, as long as I am carrying and nursing her, it would be dishonorable for me to fight--and the need to care for her will keep me alive, even as a captive, until she no longer needs me." "That helps, some." It wasn't perfect; Tarlac didn't want anyone to have to die, and he hoped the invasion never happened . . . but what she said did help. Then another thought occurred to him. "What'll we name her?" "We have time to give that much thought," Daria said with amusement. "But not now. I have duties, and we both must eat." "I suppose so." He hated to do it, but he released her and they both rose.