Shalia's Diary #7

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Shalia's Diary #7 Page 27

by Tracy St. John


  “What about the Bi’isils?” I wanted to know.

  Betra’s lip curled. “As much as I’d like to find a reason to point a finger at those little beasts, it’s most likely the hunter/killers are stolen by Tragooms. I doubt Bi’isils are roaming about with Earthers and Tragooms in the hopes of taking out a small Kalquorian convoy.”

  “We’re so close to the Empire,” I mused. “Why would they be flying near your borders?”

  “Because once we’re within our borders, they’ve got damned little chance of getting to us,” Betra said. “They know our fleet is mostly concentrated within the Empire and near to Earth. It could be they hoped we would be more relaxed this close to home.”

  “They had enough ships to challenge us,” Katrina said. “I wonder why they didn’t?”

  “Because a challenge is not a definite win,” Betra said. “Tragooms are cowards if they don’t have a clear-cut advantage along with surprise. They had neither in this instance.”

  Candy blew out a breath. “I realize there is no point in worrying. Either they attack us or they don’t. Still, I don’t expect to get a lot of sleep tonight.”

  “You didn’t expect to get sleep tonight anyway,” I pointed out. “Go back and dance the night away.”

  Candy pulled a face. “I’m afraid my desire for dancing is out the window right now.”

  That seemed to be the consensus. With the all-clear given, we drifted towards the transports. Our big night out was done.

  Betra had to file reports anyway. And no doubt Oses would be on the bridge for several hours. I smiled at Anrel. “Ready to get into your own bed, little warrior?”

  Megan handed me Anrel’s diaper bag. “How was the club until the party was crashed?”

  “Amazing. You’re going to love it. And if a more intimate type of dancing is wanted with your beaus, the back room seems to be the place to go.”

  Megan laughed. “Gotcha. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  We all headed to the transport, ready to call it a night. I was delighted to have Katrina close so I could interrogate her about showing up with Clan Wotref earlier.

  “Things are back to normal with you and the captain’s clan?” I asked. I hoped with all my might that the news was good. “Did Matthew—?”

  She shook her head. “My son has not come around yet. I hope he will.”

  Candy slipped her arm around Katrina’s waist. “So what made you start up with Clan Wotref again?”

  Katrina shrugged. “I can’t be held hostage from my own happiness. I want my son and grandchildren in my life, but it’s wrong to let my life be dictated to me. Matthew has no right to force me to live by his beliefs.”

  “You must have struggled with that decision,” I said quietly. We reached our section and got off the lift. Megan wished us good night and went on to her quarters.

  “Let’s go to my quarters,” I suggested to Candy and Katrina. “If you feel like telling us what happened.”

  “I would like to,” Katrina said. “I know it seems like I cut you two out, but I could hardly think about it, let alone talk.”

  We went to my rooms. Anrel had drifted off to sleep, so I settled her in her crib. I left the door between rooms open. We sat on my lounger and continued to talk quietly.

  Katrina picked up her tale. “As I said, I have decided to live my life as I see fit. I sent Matthew a message saying he no more knows God’s mind than I do and he had no right to be so self-righteous. I asked him to reconsider keeping the grandchildren away from me. I am willing to visit them without my potential clan since it is Matthew’s right to raise them as he feels is right. But I will not cut Clan Wotref out of my life to accommodate him.”

  “Good for you,” Candy said. “Even though I know that must have been the hardest message you’ve ever had to send.”

  Katrina shrugged. “It’s actually a relief. Had I done as my son wanted me to, I’d resent his interference. I’d feel I’d not been true to myself. I couldn’t live like that, angry at Matthew for ruining my chance at love and happiness.”

  “So where does your relationship with Clan Wotref stand now?” I asked. “They looked pleased. Well, Wotref and Ret did. Siko didn’t look ready to tear heads off, so I guess that’s a good sign.”

  Katrina snickered at my observation. “Siko is a big marshmallow under all that rude language and grouchiness. When I showed up at their door, he was the first one to hug me. It took Wotref threatening to break his arms before he would let me go.”

  “Tell me they’ve asked you to clan,” Candy begged.

  Katrina nodded. Candy and I both clapped our hands over our mouths to muffle our delighted squeals. “You said yes, right?” I demanded.

  “Settle down, you two hopeless romantics,” Katrina laughed quietly. “I told them to consider us engaged to be clanned.”

  “Katrina! Why wait?”

  She shook her head. “Because I need a little more time to try and convince Matthew I am doing what is right for me. If I join Wotref’s clan right now, he may think I’m doing it just to spite him.”

  “How long will you wait for him to see it your way?” Candy asked.

  “Clan Wotref plans to retire from the fleet in a couple of years,” Katrina said. “I can’t stay on the ship with them, and they won’t be on Kalquor too much until then. I will go through with my plans to work as a liaison for the Matara Complex.” Her eyes twinkled mischief. “If my big strong men haven’t come to their senses by the time they resign their commissions and come home to Kalquor, then I will become their Matara.”

  Wow. What drama, and for once it’s not mine. I sure hope Matthew gets his act together for everyone’s sake. In the meantime, Katrina can enjoy being with the men she loves.

  August 23

  I heard from Clan Aslada today. Jaon’s contacts reported a Nang sighting on a small outpost at the far end of Alneusian space. That was a couple of weeks ago. He’s moving slowly, but he’s still coming. Jaon continued to insist Nang won’t get anywhere near me once I’m on Kalquor because he’ll keep an eye on things.

  The rest of their message was just what I’d asked for: sharing everyday events. Jaon was about to go on a trip to track down a Nobek suspected of terrorist threats against Joshada. Good heavens, who threatens Joshadans? Those pretty little furballs are as peaceful a race as can be imagined.

  Aslada is campaigning for a second Matara Complex, this one to be built on his continent ... and specifically in his territory. “Once other Earther women know how much we wish to take care of you, we will need the second facility. In the long run, we’ll need several. I think many of you will come,” he said with proud assurance. Ah, just wait until he discovers what complicated creatures we Earthers are. I think he might be in for a few surprises, but I believe his heart is in the right place. Who knows? Maybe he’s right.

  Meyso has three surgeries scheduled this week. “I’m tired just thinking about it,” he grinned. “That’s what I get for working so close to a Nobek advanced training camp.”

  “As long as you operate better than you cook,” Jaon snorted.

  Meyso rolled his eyes. “I burned breakfast this morning. I’ll have to listen to Jaon’s complaints about it for at least two days.”

  “All you had to do was hit the monitor switch to keep it from happening. How hard is that?”

  “And you’ve never forgotten anything, have you?” Meyso winked at me. “Someone has a terrible habit of leaving his portable com everywhere he goes. Last week Jaon ‘lost’ his at three restaurants, the shuttle service garage...”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

  “...the local police station, the courthouse...”

  Jaon bared fangs at his clanmate. “People have permanently disappeared for telling my secrets, you know.”

  Meyso was not impressed. “...under the seat in his shuttle, at the gym – am I forgetting any others?”

  Jaon made a rude gesture at the Imdiko. Aslada laughed at the pair. It’s good to see th
e guys loosening up more and more. Betra’s idea to regularly send messages has been a good one.

  For all the lightheartedness I enjoyed however, Jaon had reminded me that I still had a big problem on the loose. Nang was a long way off, but he weighed heavily on my mind.

  I’d come up against a problem in my knife training lately. It’s my favorite form of combat and everyone has been pleased with my progress in it for the most part. As far as form and basic skills, I’m doing great. I can defend myself pretty good against a blade attack now. Still, Kalquorians are much bigger than me. My instructor Nobek Idow and I have worked hard to overcome the issue of reach. I’m finding it hard to get in close enough to make a hit without him tagging me first. No matter what we do, I can’t seem to mount a decent offensive unless it’s by surprise. Idow and I are getting frustrated, because he’s never had to train someone as short as me. He’s only dealt with adult male Kalquorians.

  Idow had already mentioned it might be time to get the advice of my circle’s best expert in the matter. With Jaon’s report fresh on my mind, I shot off a message to Nobek Larten. I described to him what we’d tried and how our attempts were coming up ... no pun intended ... short. Hopefully he’ll have some kind of fix for the trouble I’m having.

  Having finished that bit of business, I turned to check on Anrel who was lying on a blanket in the middle of the sitting room floor. I’d set up the vid recorder, along with the monitor so that she could see herself. It was recording, just because there is never a moment not worth preserving when it comes to Anrel. I’m a little crazy when it comes to that. I’ve never met a picture of her I didn’t like.

  She’d been laying on her back, kicking her feet in the air and gurgling at her own image to her right, occasionally squealing with seeming delight. I think she liked seeing the ‘other baby’ next to her.

  My mouth dropped open. Anrel had rolled over on her tummy, the first time she’d done so. She faced her doppelganger, making chattering sounds as if telling her new friend all the secrets of the world. She raised herself on her elbows as I watched, jerking with excitement. Apparently she’d gotten to the adventure portion of her tale. She sank back down, but never lost a beat in her ‘conversation’.

  I got down on the floor and crawled over. “Look at you! Look at my big girl rolling over and raising herself up. Good girl, Anrel! What a big girl. I’m going to have to send this to your granddads and grandmom Joelle. They’ll be so proud!”

  She gave me a big toothless smile. Oh, she is so amazing. I am the luckiest woman ever.

  August 24

  We had another evacuation alarm go off today. Once again, an Earther battlecruiser, Bi’isil hunter/killers, and Tragoom ships were detected. Once again, they flew out of sensor range as soon as the ships went on alert.

  There was no way to positively identify them as the same ships that had interrupted our dance club opening, but it seems plenty clear to us all that we are being tracked. Regular ship evacuation drills have been increased. Oses told me that the Empire is sending more destroyers to meet up with us. Our slowpoke transport is about two weeks away from the border of Kalquorian space. The additional destroyers should reach us in five days.

  Wow, I just realized how close we are to Kalquor. From the border, it is a two-week trip to the home planet itself, give or take a day or two. I’ll be there in an Earth month.

  That’s not all the news. Katrina changed her mind about joining Wotref’s clan in two years. She went ahead and did it.

  “I said, fuck it,” she told me and Candy when we came to her quarters, answering her invitation. She poured us all drinks to celebrate. “I was going to do it anyway. I love the big lugs. We’re running out of time before we get to Kalquor, and word is this ship is heading right back to Earth after a two-week layover. I’m going to spend all the time I can as the Matara of Clan Wotref.”

  “And your son?” Candy asked, her tone hesitant.

  “Matthew can think what he will. If he thinks I’m doing it just to irritate him, then he doesn’t know his mom at all.” Katrina looked at her glass of bohut for a moment, her eyes getting misty. “As for the grandchildren ... well, I thought they had to be dead at one time. Now I know they’re not. That can keep me sane for a little while. Maybe someday if Matthew doesn’t pull his head out of his ass before they’re grown, they’ll come to see me on their own.”

  “You can send them messages through your daughter,” I suggested.

  She nodded. “I’ve thought of that too. Life is now, my dearest friends. We can’t postpone it in the hopes of what tomorrow might or might not bring us. So toast me, Matara Katrina of Clan Wotref. May God have mercy on my men.”

  We laughed and raised our glasses to her. Anrel sat on my lap and I helped her raise her bottle to her Grammy’s good fortune and joy.

  After our first sip, Katrina asked, “So who’s going to help me pack all my crap?”

  That brought on little cries of anguish from me and Candy. But of course Katrina would be moving in with her mates. Duh. We hadn’t thought of that in the excitement of the moment.

  “Why aren’t the guys helping you?” Candy asked when the first rush of dismay ebbed.

  “Ret will when his schedule allows. He’ll probably do most of the moving itself. Wotref is busy with those enemy ships following us around. Siko has his hands full for the same reason since all of Security is on alert. Besides, as good as he is with a blaster he’s hopelessly clumsy when it comes to pretty decorations.” Katrina narrowed her eyes at the vases, statuettes, and other mementos she’d brought from home and collected during our voyage. “Sometimes I think that Nobek drops stuff on purpose. If it doesn’t have a practical use, he doesn’t want it ‘junking up’ his space. The man likes to pretend he doesn’t have a sentimental bone in his body.”

  I thought of how the battered warrior treated Anrel, hugging and kissing and calling her his little ‘becu’. “We know better.”

  Katrina grinned at me. “Yes we do. I told him for every one of my tchotchkes that hits the floor, he’ll have to see me cry for an hour. What I can’t win through violence, I’ll take through manipulation.”

  We burst into laughter at her means of controlling the ferocious Nobek. Katrina is wonderfully devious. I should take lessons from her. I can never get one over on Oses or Betra.

  “Are you going to have a ceremony of some sort?” Candy wanted to know. “Anrel could be the flower girl! She’d be so cute. Shalia could carry her down the aisle. And you could do it up and knock your men’s socks off. I saw the most delicious wedding gown in Acquisitions. No one has claimed it yet.”

  “Because it’s a frothy horror of bows and lace,” Katrina said, wrinkling her nose. “Prophets save us, Candy, I’ve already been married three times. And fucked a platoon of Kalquorians! If I put on a white dress, the universe will turn itself inside out.”

  We laughed again. Anrel crowed with us. Katrina gasped in horror and slapped a hand over her mouth as she realized what she’d said in front of the baby.

  “Shalia, I’m so sorry! Anrel, don’t listen to Grammy’s nasty mouth. Come here and sit with me so I don’t forget myself again. I swear worse than Siko sometimes.”

  I let Katrina hold Anrel. There is nothing like a having a baby around to remind someone just how bad a potty mouth they have. I speak from experience. I shudder to think what my daughter’s first word might be.

  “I’m always forgetting to watch my language,” I said, excusing Katrina for the lapse. “So, is there going to be a ceremony?”

  Katrina nodded. “Right here on the ship. The guys have spent most of their adult lives with this crew and their immediate families are deceased. Matthew wouldn’t come anywhere near such a thing. Hope, as understanding as she is, wouldn’t be comfortable. You girls are my family, so I want you there along with the friends I’ve made on board the Pussy ‘Porter.”

  I had my own romantic thought. “It’s perfect, Katrina. Committing publicly to the men right h
ere where you met and fell in love.”

  It sounded sappy, but Katrina got a little watery-eyed again. She took a big swallow of bohut to cover it up before continuing. “The guys are leaving most of the details to me as far as the ceremony is concerned. Wotref and Siko aren’t spiritual, but Ret did say he’d like the Temple of Life priest who’s on board to oversee the spoken commitments. I’m thinking a quick, painless exchange of vows and then a big party in the club.”

  “Make yourself and your clan happy,” I encouraged. “It’s your day after all.” I finished my drink and refused a refill. I almost never drink when Anrel is awake. But this was a special occasion. One glass wasn’t going to make me an incompetent mother. “Are you still going to work at the Matara Complex?”

  She nodded. “I’ve got to keep busy while my guys are out here saving the universe, don’t I? Besides, I like the thought of making my own money and contributing to our future. Until they retire, the plan stays the same.”

 

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