That the Traiti spoke Imperial English, even ungrammatically and with an accent, didn't surprise him. It was fairly common knowledge that the so-called Sharks took prisoners--although those were even less common than bodies--and nobody had doubted that the Traiti were smart enough to realize the value of learning their enemy's language. That was an intelligence coup the Empire had been unable to match. Traiti too badly wounded to fight, or those hit by stun-beams and taken prisoner, never lived for long. Once they decided escape was impossible, those who were able to committed suicide, usually by clawing out their throats. Those who for one reason or another couldn't actively kill themselves simply lost the will to act and then to live, dying usually within a week of capture. The Empire had learned that they called themselves Traiti, little more. Once he had his suit on, the Ranger fortunately didn't have to walk far. A standard spacesuit was considerably less massive than a Marine's power armor, but it wasn't light, and it was clumsy in anything approaching a full standard gee. Clumping over to the lock, Tarlac cycled through. He stood for a moment on the Lindner's hull. He enjoyed being EVA, especially near a planet, and the blue-white world off to his right was achingly reminiscent of Terra. Then he spotted a blinking white light "above" and to his left, on a Traiti ship. He released his boots' mag-field and pushed off toward the light, waiting until he was perhaps five meters off the hull before activating his thrustpac. When he'd gone roughly a kilometer--a diameter out from the Lindner--a soft Traiti voice told him to cut power. He did, and the pressure at the small of his back died. "You have control." He kept his voice impassive, as though he were giving the most routine of responses. With that, he felt the pull of a tractor beam. At least, he thought, he'd aimed for the right ship; he was being drawn toward and into an open airlock. It was bigger than the lock he'd used on the Lindner, and different in detail, but it served the same function and had been designed by humanoids, so it couldn't be too different. When the tractor beam released him and the lock's outer door closed, radiant heaters came on. His suit indicators showed rapidly-increasing air pressure. He removed his helmet when it reached Terra-normal, but it didn't stop until the indicators showed air pressure, like the gravity, about ten percent greater than Terra's, with a fraction over a quarter oxygen. Like recycled air anywhere, it smelled flat.