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.If they were killing them he'd have seen the pods in view popping like vab pods.He'd adjusted the trajectory of the pod and could also see the battlestation looming over the battlefield.They were far enough away that it was relatively small, the size of his thumb when he held it out at arm's length.But given that this was space, that was beyond massive."It will be well," Bacajezh said."Just submit to them.I understand that humans treat their prisoners fairly well.""Yes, captain," the cook said, nervously.He was not presenting the image of the fierce Rangora warrior but, after all, he was a cook.One of the small boats locked onto the pod with gravity grapnels and pulled the escape hatch up to its airlock.The airlock was open but wouldn't mate, it was far too small.One of the humans, armed with a laser rifle, leaned over and looked through the porthole in the hatch.Then he dialed out the pressure and opened the hatch.Bacajezh climbed out at a gesture from the rifle and entered the, small, airlock.There was barely room for the two humans and two Rangora.The pod was released to drift, the hatch shut and the airlock dialed up to pressure.Very efficient.The only loss was the air of the pod and the humans apparently had all the air they could use.He ducked through the inner hatch when it was opened and was unsurprised to find seven survivors sitting at the rear of the cargo compartment.What was fairly unnerving was that they were all helmetless."Take off the helmet," his radio chimed in fluent Rangora.He looked to his side and one of the, puny, humans was gesturing with his left hand at a pile of same on the port side of the boat.They might be puny, but he recognized the signs of a ground fighter with much experience of his weapons.Every movement was sharp, clear.And there was no particular point in fighting with that damned battlestation looming over all.He took off his helmet and added it to the pile."Captain!"The speaker was a junior officer he barely recognized, someone from tactics."Jaushom," Bacajezh said, sitting down next to the lieutenant."No talking," the human's helmet barked.The voice was, again, fluent Rangora.Which gave the captain a very interesting bit of intelligence he wished had been in his briefing.Most implant translation systems were rather robotic and had poor word choice and inflection.It took a very advanced implant system, more advanced than Rangoran, to give a clear, eloquent, translation that sounded like a natural speaker.These human ground fighters, presumably their lowest value enlisted, were using Glatun quality implants.And that explained missiles that cut through Rangora screens like butter and targeting that was so powerful and precise it was far beyond what the Terrans should have.Even the rifles had the look of a modification of a Glatun design.The Glatuns had released their military technology to the Terrans before the embargo.He was unsure if High Command knew that.There are various reasons they might have sacrificed his task force with that knowledge.But if they did not, it was intelligence beyond price.It also did not bode well for taking this system."Captain Bacajezh," the human said.The voice was coming from a speaker on his collar and he didn't open his mouth when he spoke."I am pleased that you survived.""I am sure you are," Bacajezh said.He didn't bother to try to use his own system to speak Terran.The human's implant would translate better than his own very expensive personalized set."Captain Saeshon Bacajezh.Four-One-Eight-Seven-Six-Three-Nine-Four."The interview was taking place onboard the Ceixen, which seemed to have suffered no damage whatsoever.If it had surrendered without a fight, Bacajezh was going to kill the captain if it was the last thing he did.The human looked very small and alone in the Rangoran station chair.On the other hand, the two Marines with rifles in the corner were nearly big enough to be Rangora."Very much as we would reply," the officer said."I am Lieutenant Gularte.We have some skul.Would you care for some?""Only if my men are receiving it as well," the captain said.He'd, frankly, kill for a cup of skul."I've offered it to all the officer prisoners I've spoken to," the lieutenant said, shrugging."There's only as much as is in your ships.When it runs out, absent getting some more supplies from your people, it will be gone.So you may feel free to take it or not.""Please," the Rangoran said.The brew was cold and somewhat softened.Not the best and clearly from an instant mix he didn't recognize.But it was skul."This is not, as such, an interrogation," the lieutenant said."Oh, some aspects of it.But I won't be asking you about your military posture, plans for more attacks or your order of battle.You wouldn't answer absent harsh methods and we have rather strict laws against those.""That is." Bacajezh wasn't sure how to reply to that.The term that came to mind was "stupid." But that didn't seem like a good thing to say."According to most of your junior officers, the term you're looking for is stupid," the lieutenant said, grinning with open teeth in that offensive Terran fashion."I will simply note that it is I doing the interrogation and not the other way around.Our ways are, we recognize, unusual to this area of galactic society but
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