He couldn't help wishing he could turn a shipload of biologists loose on this planet. Irschcha and Ondrian were the homeworlds of the other two intelligent Imperial races, yet a Terran without specialized medical preparation beforehand would die within a few days, trying to survive in either's wilderness. It wasn't so much nutritional deficiencies as protein incompatibility and allergic reactions. With the exception of the Traiti wine, that didn't apply on Homeworld, as two weeks' experience proved, and Tarlac was extremely curious about the reason. Well, if he ever got back to the Empire, he'd recommend that such a study be made.
For now, though, there was nothing he could do, and his first full day here had been busy; he was tired. He'd get a good night's sleep, then start fresh in the morning.
Chapter IV
When Tarlac woke, though, it wasn't morning and he wasn't on his sleeping mat. It felt like the middle of the night, and he was standing as he had stood once before at the altar in the clanhome's gathering hall, with his palms laid flat on the bare lower platform.
He didn't know why or how he came to be here looking up at the images of those who formed the Circle of Lords, but it seemed right to him that he stood so, at peace as his hands rested on the alien altar.
Or was it alien? He didn't want it to be, and it certainly didn't seem alien. He knew, now, what he had only felt during the drive to the clanhome. He belonged here, to the Traiti, as surely as he belonged to the Empire, and he had to bring the two together. It was a need he didn't question, any more than he questioned the approval he sensed from somewhere. Stepping back from the altar, he bowed formally.
Conscious of the chilly night air on his bare skin, he descended the steps, intending to return to the sleeproom he shared with Hovan and several other fighters.
There was someone at the far end of the gathering hall, approaching him. He recognized the green-robed figure as the Speaker, Daria, and wondered briefly if being here in his condition was considered disrespectful, or worse.
Apparently it wasn't; she smiled at him. "The Lords saw fit to summon you quickly. Was the communion pleasant?"