“I’ll take that,” Coloma said.

“The Clarke’s identified the other ship,” Balla said.

“It’s the Nurimal,” Coloma said. “I know.”

“Not that one, ma’am,” Balla said. “The one it just wrecked. It’s the Urse Damay. It’s an Easo corvette that was turned over to Conclave diplomatic service.”

“What the hell is it doing firing on us?” Cabot asked.

“And why is the Nurimal firing on it?” said Coloma.

“Captain,” Orapan Juntasa, the communications and alarm officer, said. “We’re being hailed by the Nurimal. The person hailing us says they are the captain.” Juntasa was silent for a moment, listening. Her eyes got wide.

“What is it?” Coloma asked.

“They say they want to surrender to us,” Juntasa said. “To you.”

Coloma was silent for a minute at this.

“Ma’am?” Juntasa said. “What do I tell the Nurimal?”

“Tell them we’ve received their message and to please wait,” Coloma said. She turned to Balla. “Get Ambassador Abumwe up here right now. She’s the reason we’re here in the first place. And bring Lieutenant Wilson, too. He’s actual military. I don’t know if I can accept a surrender. I’m pretty sure he can.”

*   *   *

Hafte Sorvalh was tall, tall even for a Lalan, and as such would have difficulty navigating the short and narrow corridors of the Clarke. As a courtesy to her, the negotiations for the surrender of the Nurimal were held in the Clarke shuttle bay. Sorvalh was accompanied by Puslan Fotew, captain of the Nurimal, who did not appear in the least bit pleased to be on the Clarke, and Muhtal Worl, Sorvalh’s assistant. On the human side were Coloma, Abumwe, Wilson and Hart Schmidt, whom Wilson had requested and Abumwe had acceded to. They were arrayed at a table hastily acquired from the officers mess. Chairs were provided for all; Wilson guessed they might be of slightly less utility for the Lalans, based on their physiology.

“We have an interesting situation before us,” Hafte Sorvalh said, to the humans. Her words were translated by a small machine she wore as a brooch. “One of you is the captain of this ship. One of you is the head of this ship’s diplomatic mission. One of you”—she nodded at Wilson—“is a member of the Colonial Union’s military. To whom shall my captain here surrender?”

Coloma and Abumwe looked over to Wilson, who nodded. “I am Lieutenant Wilson of the Colonial Defense Forces,” he said. “Captain Coloma and Ambassador Abumwe are members of the Colonial Union’s civil government, as is Mr. Schmidt here.” He nodded at his friend. “The Nurimal is a Conclave military ship, so we have decided that as a matter of protocol, I would be the person for whom it would be appropriate to surrender.”