Alien Revolt (Clans of Kalquor Book 11)

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Alien Revolt (Clans of Kalquor Book 11) Page 7

by Tracy St. John


  He considered the situation, crouching down next to Matara H. Nath. He watched her closely, noting every nuance of her expression, every flicker of change. He suddenly had more questions than answers, and all centered on the general’s relation.

  “Most certainly that message had to do with an illicit tryst,” he mused. “But maybe not. You could be of use to us if we needed to convince the general to do certain things. A man that close to the Holy Leader—well, blackmail is a useful tool, whether on powerful men or their family members.”

  Kila didn’t know if it would come to that. With the stakes so high, he had to be ready to implement any and all tactics, however.

  “It seems I’ll be spending the night on this ship to get a few of those answers I need,” he told the unaware Ms. Nath. “At least one of my companions is easy on the eyes.”

  * * * *

  His long meeting with General Nath over, Piras headed towards the bay where his shuttle waited. Weapons Commander Mostar followed, silent as he’d been for much of the visit.

  Piras looked forward to getting back to Kila’s ship and discovering if his Nobek had discovered anything of interest. Hopefully, Kila hadn’t found any reason to remain overnight on the Sword of Truth. Mostar was a more than capable defender of Kila’s destroyer and Dramok, but the admiral preferred his clanmate.

  With the corridor more congested than he’d seen before, Piras conjectured a shift change was underway for the crew. Even though there was a great deal of people moving about, the Earthers gave him and the narrow-faced Mostar a wide berth. Maybe it was Mostar’s perpetually suspicious expression. Much like Kila’s constant smirk, the weapons commander’s frown always appeared angrily distrustful. It was enough to warn off anyone who treasured his personal well-being.

  Or perhaps the distance they were given was due to another reason. Though Copeland’s people were now the Basma’s allies, the aura Piras sensed from the Earthers was palpably unfriendly. Old grudges against Kalquorians had apparently not died off. Such an attitude could be what kept Copeland in power, Piras mused. He might have his people working with Maf’s forces, but simply because they hated the Kalquorian Empire more.

  General Nath had been another matter. True, he was not about to ask Piras over for dinner any time soon, but he kept his prejudices to himself. And he was more than willing to back up the assertion that the attack force was not ready to try Haven and Rokan’s defenses. No doubt it was a coincidence, but the Earther was buying Piras time.

  A small figure wearing a brown uniform and striding with purpose towards the admiral caught his attention. He recognized the woman weaving in and out of the knots of people making their way through the ship. Piras knew she recognized him too—not surprising given he was one of two Kalquorians in her path. At least this time she paid attention to where she was going. She skirted around him with no greeting, but she did give him a side-eyed gaze.

  Piras sneered, remembering he was supposed to dislike Earthers. Then he saw her name tag. He froze and twisted around to stare after her. He ignored Mostar’s scowl.

  “Nath?”

  She swerved to stop close to the wall, staying out of the way of traffic. Her suspicious glare was as fierce as a Nobek’s as she faced Piras. It didn’t discount her dainty features, though the almost irate stare didn’t fit them. Piras wondered how she looked when she smiled, but he appreciated she didn’t appear cowed by him or scarred Mostar’s fierce countenance.

  Her voice was firm too. Steady. Unafraid. “Yes, Kalquorian?”

  “You are related to General Nath? His daughter, perhaps?” Piras knew he was attracting the wrong kind of attention from those who passed, but he burned with interest at the shared name.

  The Nath woman was no more impressed with the stares of her fellow Earthers than she was with Piras and his guard. She aimed her ill-tempered glare at those who spared the slightest glance before answering. “What of it?”

  Piras knew he couldn’t appear too friendly, but he thought the more he knew about the general and his personal life, the more it might give him an edge. He adopted an even tone which hinted at no particular mood. “I was simply curious. After working with your father today, I’m most impressed. He is an excellent officer.”

  The voltage went down in her glower. Her frown eased a touch, though she did not smile. “Did it cost you much to admit that about an Earther, Admiral Piras? That’s who you are, isn’t it?”

  He dipped a slight bow. “It cost me probably as much as it would for the general to compliment me, if he found reason to do so. Excuse my prying.” He couldn’t resist adding, “Watch where you’re going, Matara.”

  The corners of her mouth edged upward, and her dark brown eyes twinkled at the reminder of their last meeting. Having scored the small victory, Piras nodded to her. He turned to follow the silently waiting Mostar, who regarded him with the mistrustful gaze that was the man’s resting expression. There was no telling if the weapons commander disapproved of the interaction or not.

  Matara Nath’s husky voice followed him, dropped so low that he doubted any of the passing Earthers heard her. He heard her, however. “Don’t run anyone down, Admiral.”

  Piras gave no sign he’d caught the sally. He walked on, suppressing a grin.

  Chapter 5

  On board the shuttle heading from Copeland’s battlecruiser to Kila’s destroyer, Piras sat alone in the passenger cabin. From his position in the gray-and-black space, he watched Mostar piloting in the cockpit. The Nobek’s fingers performed a complicated dance over the panel, preferring manual direction to spoken commands.

  Piras could have sat next to him in the co-pilot’s chair, enjoying the view the window vid afforded of the destroyer he now called home. It would have still been a silent ride. Mostar was an excellent officer, certainly worth the trust Kila had in him, but the weapons commander was all business and no small talk.

  It was just as well. Piras could have displayed his own window vid in the passenger area if he’d been keen for the view. He was not. There was too much to think about as he sprawled on the comfortable bench seat. Had Kila or even Lokmi been with him, he would have felt compelled to muse out loud about the observations he’d made that day. He didn’t feel the need to talk any more than Mostar did, however.

  Part of it was worry over his Nobek. Kila had transmitted a written message to him before Piras had boarded the shuttle. It had been all of three words long: See you tomorrow. Apparently, Kila had found something worth investigating, something which would keep him from returning to the destroyer that night. Piras hoped his clanmate didn’t find trouble while he was at it. He’d waited too damned long to find his perfect Nobek, had his heart broken too badly to lose the man.

  Piras wondered if Kila had been present for any of the meeting with General Nath. No doubt his clanmate would have had some interesting opinions. Kila would no doubt want to check on Nath’s assertions that the Earther ships were in ill repair and lacking in trained crews. Perhaps he already had.

  We should send in a phased spy to watch Nath all the time, Piras thought. Unfortunately, the destroyer crew was stretched thin, trying to accomplish the impossible: destroying Maf’s fleet from within. Kila might be able to sporadically send a man in to keep tabs on Nath for a few hours at a time, but that would be all.

  I wouldn’t mind pulling such duty, Piras thought, a smile touching his lips. He wasn’t thinking of Borey Nath, however. His contemplations turned to the man’s spitfire of a daughter.

  Piras sighed and shook his head at himself. He shouldn’t have flirted with her. He knew that was exactly what he’d been doing, and not because she was his enemy’s family. She’d caught his interest with her tiny and terrible self. She stood no taller than to his chin, yet he’d felt the force of her strength. That fierce, unbowed demeanor had him spellbound for the few seconds he’d been in her presence.

  And what of her rejoinder as he’d walked away? A barbed tease to match the one he’d given her, a wholly
unexpected taunt which made him grin. There’d been no threat in her tone that he’d been able to detect. She’d sounded as if she mocked him good-naturedly.

  “Stop it,” Piras told himself. “She’s trouble, and not merely because she’s the general’s daughter. She’s an Earther, she’s most likely known to Copeland, and she’s got an attitude.”

  An attitude which appeals to you, a voice in his head whispered. Along with a strength you can appreciate.

  Piras scowled at nothing, at everything. First his admiration of General Nath, and now an unwanted attraction to the man’s daughter. It was his luck to meet the bad guys and discover they weren’t so bad after all.

  * * * *

  Lokmi and Piras ate dinner in their quarters, the two men sitting on the sleeping mat with food trays balanced on their crossed legs. Piras had said he wasn’t in the mood to deal with the crowded dining hall that evening, and Lokmi had been fine with eating in private.

  The Imdiko suspected Piras was morose over Kila not returning to the destroyer. It would be the first time they’d been parted since clanning. Piras had been forced to overcome many issues in accepting Kila as his Nobek. It made the separation that much harder for him to cope with.

  Issues like the ones I’m dealing with, Lokmi thought. Just as Piras had wanted Kila and yet fought it, so the Imdiko struggled with his feelings for the Dramok and Nobek. Lokmi had his fair share of troubles keeping him from accepting their offer to be a part of their lifelong union. He wanted to take the final step, but deep-seated fears kept him from doing it.

  Thinking Piras’s glum state of mind was proving to be contagious, Lokmi attempted to lighten the mood. “I never noticed until now what a chatterer Kila is. It’s so quiet without him here.”

  A smile tugged at Piras’s lips. “It’s no good insulting him when he’s not around to get mad about it.”

  “We could make a list of things to abuse him with when he gets back.”

  Piras chuckled, but the humor didn’t last long. He picked at his rizpah filet. “I hope he’s doing all right. I won’t relax until I see him again, safe and sound.”

  “I know. I’m worried too. Don’t tell him I said so.”

  Piras nodded. He laid his barely-eaten tray aside and fixed Lokmi with an intent gaze. His attention made worry gnaw at the Imdiko’s guts.

  Piras shook his head as if reading Lokmi’s thoughts. “Since Kila’s not here to make his bad jokes, we should have a talk.”

  “Oh, great.”

  “Don’t get defensive. I want to know if you’re okay with everything so far. If you’re all right with Kila and me.”

  Lokmi swallowed. He had to force himself to meet the other man’s gaze. “I am. Which is presenting a problem in itself. Things between us are going too well.”

  Piras snorted. “I thought you wanted to get to the point where you could see yourself as the Imdiko to this clan.”

  “I do! Damn it all, if you just knew.” Lokmi barely kept himself from throwing his tray at the wall in frustration.

  “Easy, Chief. All I wanted was to check in and see if there was anything I was doing to upset you. Anything needing to be addressed to make you feel better about us.”

  No, Piras was handling their new relationship exactly the way he should. He was the strong Dramok Lokmi wished he could be; commanding without being authoritarian. Sure, Piras’s temper was nasty when someone did something stupid, but he was as tough on himself. Even Kila, with his unforgiveable habit of screwing with Lokmi’s engines when the mood took him, had been the essence of compromise.

  They were going out of their way to keep from pushing Lokmi’s buttons, to let him be an Imdiko and a Dramok. They respected his needs. They were trying to help him learn to be the best of both breeds. Yet his first reaction to joining their clan continued to be one of fear—fear they’d ignore the half of him which was as alpha as they were, that they’d somehow make him the least important member of their partnership.

  Piras didn’t push him. Instead, he switched to mentor mode. “How are things going with your staff?”

  “Great.” Lokmi was grateful to Piras for the guidance he’d never received in dealing with the non-Imdiko urges. His over-use of authoritarian impulses had hamstrung him throughout his career and his personal relationships as well. Few Imdikos reached his age without being clanned. No one except Piras and Kila had ever bothered to ask him.

  He hadn’t lasted long in many fleet postings either. A tendency to ignore superiors and bully those he supervised had gotten him transferred often. The fact he was one of the best engineers in the fleet and all of Kalquor had been all that kept him from being discharged.

  Lokmi had a lot to learn about balancing his two sides still, but there were signs he was making strides. “I’m not letting my Dramok side see each question and critique as a challenge to my authority. No one has taken a swing at me in days.”

  Piras chuckled. “It’s tough walking the fine line between being reasonable and kicking someone’s ass. The ancestors know I continue to land on the wrong side too often to count.”

  “You joke, but moderation is a bitch to figure out at this stage of my life. Don’t be a doormat, but don’t yell at the first provocation. I don’t know that I’d have found anything approaching middle ground without you as a teacher.”

  “I’m glad to be here for you. And that you’re trying to do as I say and not as I do.” Piras pulled a face, well aware of his reputation.

  “I’ve watched you, and you don’t get mad at mistakes done out of lack of knowledge,” Lokmi said. “You only lose your mind when someone’s being a willful shit or not paying the attention he should. Maybe you go overboard when it comes to discipline, but it’s never arbitrary.”

  “I’m glad you approve.” Piras picked up his tray and started eating again.

  Lokmi gazed at him, feeling warmth fill his being as he contemplated the one Dramok who had ever understood his difficulties. He also knew Kila was the single Nobek he could trust. Both men had shown him so many things he hadn’t known about himself. They coped with his poorly trained Dramok instincts and encouraged him to listen more to his under-utilized and unappreciated Imdiko need to nurture.

  It made Lokmi sad to feel he was close to realizing a happy relationship with the pair, only to deny himself the very thing he wanted so much. Needing Piras to understand, he said, “I want to be with you as a clanmate. Some days I think I should accept your offer, and never mind the terror the thought brings. Ancestors, if I could just get over my fears.”

  The man many referred to as the Terror of the Fleet gave Lokmi an expression that could have melted the heart of the most bloodthirsty Nobek. “It will come, Chief. Little by little.” Before he could get too tender and possibly ruin his reputation, Piras’s grin turned wicked. “I suppose it helps that Kila isn’t fucking with the engines every couple of days?”

  “I know it’s making him crazy. He’s a born tinkerer, all right.” Rather than amusing Lokmi, it sobered him even more. “The fact he’s doing it for me—and I realize it’s the reason—makes me feel even worse I haven’t said yes to you two.”

  “You will figure out he’ll let you have your Dramok side, in the right situation.”

  Lokmi already knew that. Knowing had not dislodged the dread which blocked the words that would make him their clanmate. “I owe you thanks for giving me the time to sort myself out. I know my reluctance is hurting you.”

  “I’ve dealt with worse. You are worth the wait.”

  Piras was no stranger to waiting. He’d loved another Nobek before, one who had kept him waiting for sixteen years before leaving him for another Dramok. The situation had made it hard for Piras to realize Kila was the perfect protector for him. Lokmi was determined he would not make his intended clanmates wait even a fraction of that time. Piras in particular didn’t deserve Lokmi’s reluctance.

  The Imdiko gathered himself. There was nothing more to say, not until he defeated the stupid iss
ues keeping him from the one clan meant for his confused ass.

  Turning his attention to the mission, he broached a request he was sure would make Piras as miserable as his inability to clan. “I was thinking I could hitch a ride with you tomorrow when you meet with Dramok Sitrel on his destroyer. I’d like an in-person peek at the engines on that vessel.”

  As he expected, Piras scowled, his brow furrowing with worry. “It sounds to me like a potentially dangerous and heedless mission. We don’t need to have you out there.”

  “Thank you for your concern, my mother. You know I should inspect at least one of the destroyers in person. It’s tactically unsound for the chief engineer to not examine the enemy’s strengths if he can.” Lokmi kept his tone light, knowing it was the best way to convince the sometimes testy admiral. He felt absurdly proud of the fact that he didn’t challenge Piras the way his underdeveloped Dramok tendencies wanted him to.

  Piras could be as over-protective as Kila when the mood struck. He ignored the reminder of spy protocol. “What’s the point? I plan on compromising the destroyers by computer anyway. I know they’ve cut themselves off from the fleet’s official system, but the tie-in they’re using is similar. Even if Sitrel continues to deny me access, I can break into it in my sleep.”

  “I find it worrisome that Sitrel hasn’t invited our ship to join in with the rest of Maf’s fleet yet.”

  “I agree. I’m inclined to believe it’s a power play on his part. Unless I’m reading the situation wrong, he’s been pushed into the background by Maf.”

  “Trouble in paradise?” Lokmi liked the sound of that. If Sitrel was on the outs with Maf, it would be to their advantage. “Maybe it’s because he’s not a military officer who can help with this part of the war.”

  “That could be it. By not having our ship interconnected with the rest, Sitrel must think he’s giving himself an upper hand. Or maybe it’s as petty as him wanting the satisfaction of an admiral asking him to be allowed into the party.”

 

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