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Corran held the static holograph so Gavin could see it. The image showed two Issori, one male and a smaller, lighter-colored female. He was pouring a liquid from a pitcher onto an egg and she was brushing the liquid over the egg. To Corran, it looked similar to what he’d seen chefs do in basting a roast, but he decided to keep that observation to himself.

Gavin’s brown-eyed gaze flicked up. “You’re the egg?”

“I was, yes. The Issori have a caste-based society. The caste of the egglayer determines the caste into which the child will be born. The caste of the fertilizer determines rank within that caste and political alliances between the families involved. Breedings are negotiated, sometimes with eggs or packets traveling great distances to be used in a fertilization ceremony such as this. This image is of a Whooncha. It is an intra-caste breeding of the nobility, meant to strengthen the standing of two families within the ruling caste. A Whoon-li would be an inter-caste breeding within one realm involving a noble and a more common caste. A Vuin-cha would be a breeding between nobles from different realms.”

Corran nodded. “And a Vuin-li would be a noble breeding with a common caste from outside the realm.”

The Issori stiffened. “Such a thing would never happen.”

Corran frowned. “Wait, you’re telling me that no two Issori from different castes and different nations would ever breed together? What if they are in love?”

Khe-Jeen allowed himself a little laugh. “These displays of emotion that so often rule other sapients are taken in perspective by the Issori. We consider love much like a rainstorm. It can be light or hard, long or short, mild or tempestuous. It can also end. To tie the life of a child to the mercurial emotional attachments of its parents is cruel. Families agree on breedings, families raise the children. My name, for example, has three elements. Khe indicates I am of a single breeding which my father’s family negotiated. It is not his family name, but instead comes from the character of our alphabet that my father’s family uses to mark such a union. My mother was of the Jeen family. I am known as Slee. Both the Khe and Slee parts of my name were chosen based on a formula that allowed the numerical values of the letters of my name to add up to an auspicious number.”

Corran shot Gavin a glance. “Get your hands on that formula and you’ll have no problems naming the kids you adopt.”

Khe-Jeen crackled the rest of the bone to splinters in his mouth. “Our point is this: On Issor there are no unwanted children, and even those orphaned are the responsibility of the families of those who were bred to create them.”

Corran scratched at his forehead. “But if eggs and packets can travel, isn’t it possible that children are actually born after the parents are dead? And isn’t it possible that someone could breed a rival to a leader by stealing eggs and packets from people closer to a throne than he is?”

“Indeed, we have often bred using packets of dead heroes or leaders—we have used the eggs of their sisters or wives or daughters similarly to preserve the bloodline. The families always care for these newborns.” The Issori shrugged his broad shoulders. “As for unsanctioned breedings, they are known as vrecje. The closest Basic word is stranger, but it runs deeper since not only do we not know them, but they have not been raised by a family, so they are not really considered Issori. They are wretched, tortured creatures and are slain as wild beasts are slain.”

“Having families raise kids sounds right by me.” Gavin smiled, then wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Asyr has said that family means a lot to the Bothans, and I’ve agreed that any children we adopt should have a full understanding of their own culture.”

Corran raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to adopt Bothan children?”

“At least one, yes.” Gavin reached out and rested his right hand on Corran’s left forearm. “Look, after we’re married, a lot of people are going to come around asking about Asyr and me, and whether or not we’re suitable