Hovan dismissed that unseemly question. She was Ka'ruchaya of Ch'kara, not he; such things were the concern of Clan Mothers and Speakers, not of fighters. He obeyed in this as they would obey him in his field— though he prayed the need would never arise for them to defend Ch'kara as fighters.
But he could still feel wonderment at being empowered to perform the adoption. Males shared in the creation of life, but it was females who actually brought it forth into the clan, by birth or adoption. In the case of adoption, the new ruhar should be brought into the gathering hall, with as many of the clan as possible attending. Steve wouldn't have that, or even a close approximation, until Homeworld; there weren't enough of Ch'kara in the Fleet. But he would have the best Hovan could manage, next wake-time.
Tarlac was still being examined by curious but carefully gentle commandos. It wasn't embarrassing; his own laughter had cured that problem, at least here. Being poked and prodded wasn't as bad as he'd thought it would be, even as closely as he was being checked out. Naturally enough, his examiners were paying closest attention to the points where the two races differed most: head, hands, and skin. He was willing to swear, for instance, that a dentist couldn't have gone into more detail over his teeth.
But finally that was over and it was question time. Tarlac seated himself cross-legged on his sleeping mat, where Hovan promptly joined him to translate for the others. Then the questioning started, hesitantly at first, not touching on anything too significant until Tarlac's quiet manner and responsive answers put the commandos at ease. When that happened, the questions became more searching.
"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."