”“The T’rintar clan spans at least over the trillions, captain,” Kane told him. “We have what?... 8-9 billion of us when you add Mars and th... other colonies up. That isn’t enough of us to repopulate them or the entire Itrean race.”“Yeah...”“I just don’t know what to say,” Ifra said. “I am all for the alliance between our people. If you want the ships, I am all for it. If you want our protection, then you can have it. If you want our people to become mates, then I am all for it, but trying to. Midday came, and we had sandwiches, which needed to be washed down with something. We decided to eat in the apartment, and pick up a little something from the bar, on the way. We had both taken a liking to Prosecco as soon as we arrived in Italy, so we snaffled one of the bottles from the fridge, wrote it down on our tab, and went upstairs. We ate, we drank, and soon we began to feel a bit sleepy in the heat of the afternoon. Angie was half lying at one end of the sofa, a good comfy sprawl, one. Say, 'thank you, ' girls."They all joined as one, in thanking me. I took the lone empty seat at the round table. Carrie, the youngest, and most outgoing, openly appraised me. "You look nice. My sisters are only sixteen, but they're crazy about boys." she challenged. "I bet they'll be all gaga about you before we finish eating."Before her mother had a chance to apologize, and her sisters had time to hit her, I said, "Well. There you go. I just get to town, and some nosy young girl is already. The sight of their bloodied bodies appearing during my dreaming sleep would bring me to a shivering and startled awaking.Once a week I paraded at Slough Drill Hall with Bravo Company of the 8th Battalion of the Wessex Regiment, a Territorial Army unit. I thought the military atmosphere and camaraderie/ comradeship would have staved off any onset of PTSD, which I imagined these nightmares/flashbacks to be. Of course the TA is not the regular army, and I only spent one evening a week and a couple.