"I understand."
Medart was thinking hard as they went outside to wait. He would have liked to get a reaction uninfluenced by prior information to his bodyguards' appearance, but from Bradford's response to the mere mention of non-humans, that didn't seem like such a good idea. He'd warn the spectators, then, and see about having pictures circulated before he went out in public with them. Bradford was right: if there was a chance these people would join the Empire, they'd have to start getting used to their fellow citizens.
He'd barely finished a brief description of the Traiti when the sound of null-grav engines made him look up. It was the lander, making a fast but otherwise sedate approach. Medart hid a grin as spectators drew back, expecting a crash. Sandeman reflexes made the speed perfectly safe, and if they thought this was something, they should see the type of landing a pilot trained at Clan Leras preferred. Given a choice, especially on a non-Sandeman world, those would stunt a craft till it was barely a couple of meters off the ground. That usually resulted in one of the watchers panicking and calling the local emergency services before a safe, if overly dramatic, landing.
The lander touched down, and moments later the hatch opened. Keith disembarked, followed by four enlisted Marines. Despite Medart's caution and description, the massive gray-skinned Traiti drew sounds of astonishment—and, Medart thought, some fear—from the troopers, and an exclamation of "Dear God!" from Bradford.
The team stopped about a meter from Medart and saluted. When he'd returned the salute, Keith introduced the team members. "Do you have work for us right away," he asked then, "or should I have them set up their shelter?"
"The shelter," Medart said. "And it might not be a bad idea for them to circulate, let these people get used to them. You can do that as well, or join Colonel Bradford and me; we'll be observing Colonel Cortin at work."
"I'd prefer to join you, sir." Keith turned to the senior NCO. "You're in charge here, Sergeant Tovar."
"Yes, sir." The sergeant smiled, exposing shark-like teeth. "You need not worry, sirs. This is not our first time among humans who haven't seen Traiti before. It's just too bad there are no children here."
"Children!" Bradford exclaimed in disbelief.
"Children," Medart confirmed with a chuckle. "Traiti adore children, anyone's children—and the youngsters have some way of knowing it. Five minutes or so after they meet, they're fast friends."