Magistrate Inarr just stared at him, her lips slightly parted and her eyes showing the whites all around. And, unless Tagen was phenomenally mistaken, she was also exuding the faintest tinge of musk. He glared at her, his chest heaving as he fought to control his breath and his temper, and sat down again.

“That isn’t fair,” vey Kosar said after a moment. “We offer services. They refuse them.”

“Why should they trust us?” Tagen asked. “When has any effort, any attempt whatever been made to explain their circumstances or apologize for them? None. We take them from the mines or the breeding farms or the slave ship, we pack them into a transport, and we dispose of them like garbage.”

“Whereas you would have us adopt them all as pets,” Magistrate Inarr interjected. She combed her claws through her hair several times, avoiding his direct stare. “Which is so much more preferable to keeping slaves.”

“What I would have you do,” Tagen said, “is admit a responsibility to the liberty of and justice for the humans who have been abducted by Jotan, who are enslaved by Jotan, and who are slaughtered by Jotan. An honest communication between our races is essential to that goal.”

“Agreed!” Magistrate Inarr turned her palms upward in a gesture of exasperated conciliation. “The defining word being ‘honest’. You can trust no human, none of them! They have all been slaves, they are every one of them duplicitous and vengeful.”

“Which brings us round to Daria Cleavon,” Admiral Sta’al said mildly. She turned and eyed Tagen, takking her claws on the tabletop. “Who has volunteered to come to Jota as ambassador to her captive people, provided she is not herself confined.”

“She has made no such provision,” Tagen said. “I make it for her. Daria trusts fully to your judgment.”

“And you do not?” Inarr countered.

Admiral Sta’al and Commander Cura exchanged a glance, and then both looked Tagen’s way with identical expression of voyeuristic unsurprise, waiting for his answer.

“I know our policies,” Tagen replied carefully. “And I know it is far easier to turn a blind eye to dissent if the revolution is already contained on an isolated moon without any chance of decampment. Turning a blind eye is what we Jotan do best when it comes to humans, after all, and those in the preserves are even easier to ignore. But I would make a point here about policies, Magistrate. Not everyone who disregards them is as blatant a criminal as Kanetus E’Var.”

“Clearly,” she said, giving first the floating image of Daria, and then him an allusive stare.

He chose to overlook that. Instead, “Where is the human Raven?” he asked quietly. He glared around the table, meeting and holding each eye until it dropped from his and ending with Sta’al, who merely gazed back at him. “She vanished. Into the Fleet’s own docking bay, she utterly disappeared. Which can only mean that a Fleet officer took her, did not report her and is now either holding her for his own purposes or has sold her to a slaver. And do not forget the Vahst which Raven carried with her, and which also has disappeared into the hands of whoever took her. An officer! A brother!”

Admiral Sta’al nodded. That and the perfect stillness of the others at the table was his only answer. Tagen resumed his seat. “Clearly, our laws are not as effective as we would like to pretend,” he said. “And since they must change anyway, they may as well change to include humans as beings deserving of our respect. We show Kevrian more civility than humans and we were at war with them in my father’s time!”

Both Cura and Sta’al acknowledged this, the Admiral with a nod and a narrowed eye, the Commander with an open growl and a flex of his claws. Vey Kosar hummed to herself, again thoughtful, and Magistrate Inarr bent forward and covered her face to snarl.

“Sek’ta Pahnee,” she sighed at last. “Have you any idea how tumultuous such sweeping changes would be?”

“Yes. Which is why I do not recommend them.” Tagen waited until the High Magistrate looked at him before continuing. “I suggest that plans be made for a gradual evolution towards that end, one that I recognize must take many, many years if it to be done safely and effectively. And in the meantime, Daria Cleavon will initiate an interface between Jota and the preserves.” He took a moment to reflect acridly on Kanetus E’Var, and particularly, that notable’s thoughts on compromise, before laying out what he hoped would be his winning peg. “In her role as liaison, she anticipates that she must offer herself to answer questions, to be examined for medical purposes, and to provide template biological data to further our understanding of humankind.”

Vey Kosar sat swiftly upright, her eyes cutting toward Sta’al first, and then Inarr, silently but intently indicating immediate approval.

“This…” Magistrate Inarr cracked her claws down on the table, then sprang up and paced away. “This is setting a dangerous precedent. Do I care if you keep a human in your closet? Ha! I do not! Keep as many as you like! And is there good cause for such a thing? Yes, I suppose there is. But I foresee a thousand such pets in a year’s time once other Jotan see such a high-ranking officer taking one.”

“I am not taking her,” he said, annoyed. “And if it offends your diplomatic sensibilities to have her room with me, then by all means, assign her quarters of her own.”

“No!” Inarr and Admiral Sta’al said it together, exchanged a startled glance, and then rueful smiles.

Inarr retook her seat. “No,” she said, more calmly. “A human on Jota I could possibly learn to live with, but not outside of Jotan custody.”

“I am aware of the appearance of impropriety.” Tagen shrugged back into his uniform jacket and gave it a brisk tug to straighten it, adopting what he hoped was a solemn and dignified attitude, just as though he had not risen from a bed in which Daria lay resplendent with mating musk that morning. “When I stayed in her home on Earth, she gave me rooms of my own. As a ranking officer in the Fleet, I am entitled to take family-sized quarters, and upon my return, I requisitioned them. If you like, I can message her now so that you can see for yourselves what room her bed is in.”

“No one is suggesting you…that is…” vey Kosar looked around at the others as though hoping for support, or a script, but she was ignored. Inarr only sat with her head bent and her claws in her hair, Admiral Sta’al had resumed the intensive study of her hand, and Commander Cura was giving Tagen yet another disturbingly direct stare. In the end, the scientist settled for saying, “I’m certain you maintain admirable conduct at all times. Both of you.”

“Gods!” Inarr groaned and rubbed at her face. “Why must I live in such interesting times?” She sat up and gave Sta’al a hard look. “Is Rangan going to cast in on this lot at all?” she asked testily.

“The Governor’s official position is that this matter is not an executive one and should be addressed equally as a xenobiological hazard, a security risk, and a point of law.” Sta’al gave each represented branch a nod as she named them. “She’ll go along with whatever accord we reach, provided we reach it unanimously.”

“Bitch.” Inarr scratched at her throat, scowling. “I don’t want to be responsible for this disaster.”

“Which,” Admiral Sta’al said with a sigh, “is the meat of the matter, isn’t it? None of us want to be the one that sets this storm in motion. The eyes of all the world will be watching, and as the homeworld goes, so follows the rest of our colonies. There is no such thing in such circumstances as a ‘little’ mistake. But speaking for myself, I agree with sek’ta Pahnee. It is time, and indeed, it is long past time that the matter of the preserves was readdressed. And as much as Daria Cleavon impressed me when we met, it is the disappearance of the other human that troubles my sleep.”