“Tell me, Chief, are you daydreaming about having a friend to talk mechanics and engineering with? Or are you more enthralled with the fact that she’s an attractive woman?” Piras’s teasing tone interrupted the delicious fantasy.
Lokmi grinned at him, unembarrassed to have been found out. “Both. There are many things to like about her.”
Kila chuckled. “Agreed. Hope is a strong woman. I wonder if she’d ever be inclined to consider a Kalquorian clan?”
“I wondered that myself, though it’s ridiculous to consider such a thing when we have a mission to consider first.” Piras’s gaze went distant. “I like her. I wonder how she’d cope with a man who is not demanding in certain areas.”
“I understand many of the Earther women are hesitant at first, but some end up enjoying taking control of their mates in sexual matters. She might be a dominant lover.” Kila looked over his shoulder to grin at Lokmi. “I do enjoy a good fight for control, don’t I, Chief?”
The Imdiko rolled his eyes. Their dominance fights thus far had ended up equally split. That Lokmi enjoyed both topping and bottoming to Kila had been a revelation—and not a very welcome one. As half-Dramok, he’d spent most of his life trying to assert his authority. He rebelled against the idea others could run over him because his official designation pigeonholed him as a caregiver.
Lokmi agreed Hope seemed to be a strong woman. Maybe she’d always want to be in charge, particularly where sex was concerned. It soured his initial attraction to her.
I’m not Piras. I can’t handle submitting all the time to anyone. It’s okay with Kila when it happens, but I need to be in charge as much as possible.
“Such a fierce frown, Chief. You know you’ll always have me as your submissive,” Piras said, an understanding expression lighting his elegant features.
Lokmi drew a deep breath and made himself relax. “It’s not like she’s shown any real interest in us anyway. Not as potential lovers or mates. I don’t know why I’m even worrying over it.”
Kila winked at him. “The same reason Piras and I are. Hope Nath is exquisite. She’s the kind of woman clans vie for: a Matara who is equally leader, protector, and caregiver. The embodiment of the best of us all.”
“It will be interesting to know her better, if it’s possible. Maybe by that time, Lokmi will have made us a true clan worthy of her.” Piras came over to squeeze the Imdiko’s shoulder.
The act turned Lokmi’s thoughts temporarily away from Hope. He smiled up at Piras. Despite all Lokmi’s faults, the other two men still wanted him as their clanmate. It gave him a rush of warmth to know they wouldn’t be quick to give up on him.
To himself, Lokmi could admit he loved Piras and Kila. He was determined to get his fears under control, because he wanted to be not merely their clanmate, but the best possible clanmate they could wish for.
He hoped the day would soon come when the vow to join them would not stick in his throat.
Chapter 9
A new day arrived. Hope yawned as she stared at the list of codes on her screen in Hacker Heaven. The Kalquorian characters swam before her vision for an instant, and she blinked until they were clear. She checked the time and washed down a groan with a swallow of her third cup of coffee of the morning.
Keeping her mind on her work had been a trial since sitting down at her station. She hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, but Hope knew it wasn’t the main reason for the lack of focus.
Piras. Kila. Now Lokmi too. The three men had kept her tossing and turning the whole night, refusing to leave her imagination. Bringing herself to climax twice had not done a thing to alleviate tension or fascination. What had been a laughable physical attraction was now full-blown infatuation.
Even now, surrounded by Earther men, some of whom were attractive, Hope dwelled on the Kalquorians’ attributes. Physically and intellectually, the three Kalquorians who’d appeared by her bed the night before appealed to her. And what of the initial scene of her lounging in her nightgown in bed, finding herself with three big, strong men all around her? That, along with Kila swooping down and covering her mouth so she couldn’t scream for help, had engendered a naughty fantasy or two.
More like a hundred. Hope squirmed as a jolt of carnal excitement stabbed her girlie bits.
She couldn’t help but size them up, cataloging each man in her mind. First of all was Piras. A riveting personality, one so upright that he damned near blazed with nobility. He was apparently something of a computer hacker too, giving them more in common than she’d thought possible. Matching his mind was his body. Piras’s physicality was the epitome of grace, even encased in a uniform with padded armor. Hope thought about running her tongue all over those long, lithe lines of his frame.
Kila. A scarred but striking brute, one who made Hope think of ancient and feral Vikings. Yet there was a dignity about him too, a sense of unbending morality. He would shred his enemies with an unholy bloodthirst, but it would be because they deserved it. The idea of the Nobek chaining her to a wall and ravishing her was a ridiculous one—but one she couldn’t get out of her head.
Lokmi. Hope thought perhaps the engineer intrigued her most of all. His inability to understand how any man could victimize a girl Charity’s age had won Hope’s respect in an instant. Lokmi’s dismay upon hearing of Copeland’s possible intentions for the youngest Nath had scored a gazillion points with Hope. His obvious delight in mechanical tinkering, the handsomeness of his face, and the perfection of his body had added tremendously to the tally.
Each man had something special which drew her. It was ridiculous, but she had a crush on them all. Interestingly enough, her father had mentioned at breakfast that Piras and Kila were clanmates.
Dramok and Nobek. They were missing their third male member, the so-called caregiver personality. When Hope had asked her father what breed Lokmi was, he’d been unsure. “When I researched Captain Kila’s crew, I think I read he’s an Imdiko. I could be wrong. At the time, I was more interested in their abilities as potential enemies than personal information.”
It would be too much to dream Lokmi might end up the third member of Clan Piras. Three perfect men in one family unit. What woman would be able to resist such a grouping?
Hope chuckled softly to herself. She was such a lovesick goof. She’d never considered joining a Kalquorian clan as a future option. Even when dreaming of life beyond the Holy Leader’s shadow, it had not been the remotest consideration. What could be more unnatural than a woman being wed or clanned to three men? Or having sex with them all? But now, with infatuation riding her hard, the idea wouldn’t leave her mind.
It made her wonder if she would be interested in any three likely men? Or only that particular three?
Hope realized she’d drifted off yet again, getting no work done as she stared blankly at her screen. She noted she’d been moving her legs so that darts of erotic thrills shivered through her core. She made herself stop and checked her computer.
The decoding programs were running as usual, but she had taken no notice of any information they might have offered her. If any of the intercepted messages between Kalquorian ships had shown the least promise, she’d missed it.
If you’re going to solve any issues, it should be the one involving Charity. Stop mooning over those men and think about keeping her safe.
Hope frowned. Worry was a mild way to think about her concerns for her sister. Terror was a far more fitting term. Was Charity safe at class this morning? Would Copeland make another move soon, maybe even today?
Fear mixed with the excess of coffee she’d had, making Hope’s stomach roll over sickly. When would Lokmi bring them the phase device which would allow Charity to disappear if Copeland pushed the issue? If he demanded she become his wife?
Was Lokmi working on it now, racing against time to save Charity from the unthinkable? It warmed Hope to think he might be. She wished she was working with him, learning how he’d improved on the technology which had allowed him
and his companions access to her room the night before.
What if they show up like that again? What if they find me nude in bed next time? How would they react to it? Now there was a thought to warm her up. Hope’s thighs rubbed together as she imagined all three men falling on her at once.
She was drifting into sensual reverie once more when something on her screen flashed. Hope snapped out of fantasy and bent close to scrutinize the Kalquorian com transmission alert. She was dimly aware of the technicians on either side of her also leaning to peer at their own screens, having gotten the same signal.
Hope recognized the source right away. The com was a Kalquorian transmission, originating from the cluster of Basma’s fleet holding sectors near the Joshadan and Galactic Council borders. Usually, that particular frequency went to Dramok Sitrel’s ship. Everyone in Hacker Heaven believed it came from the revolt’s leader himself, Dramok Maf. They could only guess that was the case, however, since they’d never been able to decode or pin down the identity of the sender.
If it was the Basma, he wasn’t comming Sitrel this time. The signal beamed to another destroyer. Kila’s.
Hope wasn’t about to let her crush on the captain and his clanmate keep her from learning everything impacting the fight against Copeland. Not even the assurance they were indeed allies would prevent her from doing her best to stave off trouble for her family. Perhaps Piras and Kila would be glad to tell her father what Dramok Maf had communicated to them. Maybe not. Either way, she had to try to find out on her own.
Finally banishing wayward thoughts of erotic fulfillment from her mind, Hope got to work on intercepting and unscrambling the com.
* * * *
Kila’s ready room was an official space, the captain’s office where he fulfilled administrative duties when not on the destroyer’s bridge. Piras was sure the fact it smelled of sex didn’t bother the Nobek one bit.
It shouldn’t have bothered Piras either. He’d been a part of reason the spicy scent of male Kalquorian arousal permeated the room. One desk and three chairs left most of the floor space bare. There was plenty of room for nonofficial things to happen, and they had. Yet he was trying to get work done in the space Kila now shared with him. The smell of past pleasures kept reminding him of more enjoyable moments, arousing and distracting him from his goal.
Piras was determined to infiltrate the weapons command systems of the fleet threatening Haven and Rokan. The difficulty of cracking the codes keeping him from access to the other destroyers depended on the captain and weapons commander of each vessel. Some were smarter than others. Piras was making headway as far as implementing his plans to ultimately have the renegade vessels turn their arms against each other, but not as quickly as he’d hoped.
His biggest enemy was time. He needed more of it than he suspected he had.
Piras had wrapped up tying together twenty-four ships in one system grouping and was ready to work on another when the office com went off. Recognizing his private signal, Piras pulled the unit close enough to read the frequency. It was one he didn’t recognize.
“Admiral Piras speaking.”
An unfamiliar voice greeted him with robotic formality. “Initiate Privacy Class One protocol.”
A surge of mingled dread and hope filled Piras’s gut. His fingers flew over the computer keyboard, connected to the office com unit. As he ran the frequency through an additional scrambling program, he simultaneously triggered a origin-tracing program. He’d installed it days ago, planning for the eventuality that the Basma might someday directly contact him.
With both systems confirming they were active, he told the unseen com officer, “Privacy Class One protocol initiate. Signal scrambled and encoded.”
“Confirmed. You may proceed.”
Another voice came on the audio-only link. “Hello, Admiral Piras.”
Piras was sure he recognized the speaker. His heart pounded. “Who am I speaking to?”
“This is Dramok Maf.”
“Greetings, Basma. It is a privilege to speak one-on-one with you.” Piras checked the trace. It had already found the signal came from the sector near the Batya Colony, which was held by the rebellion. If he could keep Maf on the com long enough, he’d be able to pinpoint exactly where the traitor called from, down to the exact ship he was on.
“I am delighted as well,” the deep and commanding voice told him. “I believe the time has come to dispense with the middle man in our dealings with each other.”
“I’m glad you have such faith in me. Shall I report our discussion to Dramok Sitrel so he may remain informed?”
“There is no need. He’s been a loyal and dependable aide for a long time, but war is not his strength. It is better to eliminate the possibility of misunderstanding and mistakes, don’t you think?”
Piras smirked. He’d been right to believe Sitrel was being taken out of the loop, and not because he wasn’t a soldier or veteran of the fleet. Maf’s diplomatic wording had not bothered to conceal the once-trusted aide had screwed up too many times to be relied on any longer for important tasks. Sitrel was out of Maf’s good graces.
Piras thought perhaps there was still a soft spot in the Basma’s heart where the man was concerned, however. He tactfully avoided the issue. “A direct line between yourself and those leading the various factions of your forces is preferable. We will operate much better that way.”
“Excellent. That is precisely my aim as my last communication with Sitrel left me with some concerns. He claimed there was to be a delay in capturing the Haven and Rokan colonies. I was sure you’d be able to gain control over them in short order, Admiral.”
Worry edged out the gratification which had come from the news Piras would not have to deal with Sitrel any longer. “There are issues your aide may not be aware of, though I did try to make the matter clear. As you said, he is not versed in military considerations.”
“What are the considerations?”
“In the first place, I was not immediately granted access to the computer system tying our forces together. Captain Kila’s ship has only recently been admitted into the system.”
“That should not have been the case. You were to be tied in upon your arrival.”
Piras heard the edge in Maf’s tone. Good. Dissent between the man and his most loyal follower was fine with the admiral. The more trouble stirred up within the ranks, the better for the Empire.
He told Maf, “Though it caused delay, I can report we are now integrated with the rest of the Kalquorian force. I am presently investigating the attack fleet’s readiness.”
“Their readiness? Do we not have overwhelming numbers against the defenses the Imperials have placed in our way?”
“Numbers? Oh yes, that we have, in the technical sense of the word.”
“Explain.”
“Many of the destroyers on our side have suffered damage due to the fighting they’ve been in. The maintenance has been enormously lax as well. They are not fit for real combat.”
He was exaggerating the impairment of the ships, but Maf was no more a military expert than Sitrel. Piras was certain he wouldn’t be sure of the destroyers’ condition.
Plus the Empire still held one glaring advantage over Maf’s fleet, one the traitor would know about. “I also fear some of the newly promoted captains of these ships may not have been ready to assume command. With so few of the fleet’s higher-ranking officers joining our cause, we’re relying heavily on unqualified junior staff to command.”
The tightness of Maf’s tone told Piras he’d scored points. “Surely the crews know their duties?”
“Regular fleet personnel are impeccable with their work. Command is a far different matter than crewing, however. Then there is the matter of those who came from the ground forces. Many are deficient in ship’s operations abilities.”
“You’re saying the fighting Nobeks are part of the problem.”
“Not for lack of trying. They are doing their best, but they lag behind in
making our force as effective as it needs to be. I am implementing a training schedule to improve their performance and make us strong.”
There was a long silence from Maf. Piras, for all his need to play for time, had not embellished by much the ground soldiers’ dearth of readiness to crew. Those manning the destroyers were barely a little better than the Kalquorians who now worked on the Earther battlecruisers. He had hopes other captains had reported the same issue to Maf.
Even with such problems, Piras could have ordered the attack against the Empire’s defenses of Haven and Rokan and potentially won. It would be a matter of playing up to the strengths the treasonous fleet did possess and Piras’s far greater numbers. He hoped Maf would believe such a victory was a longshot.
He could almost hear the traitor’s scowl through the com link. “We have those battlecruisers. Those are fortresses. Each one is worth at least two destroyers, usually three.”
“Under normal circumstances, I’d agree. Unfortunately, General Nath is also having trouble getting the supplemental crews of Nobeks trained. And those ships are in far worse shape than ours, due to Copeland being unable to affect repairs over the years.”
“Why did Sitrel not inform me of these matters?”
“As you said, he is loyal to a fault. He likely hoped to find better news for you once I arrived. It’s also probable that not being a military officer, he wasn’t aware of the extent of our problems. I am working to fix them.”
“Good. Tell me the soonest you can attack.”
Piras frowned at the threat in Maf’s tone. Did the fool think wanting Haven would make the ships and crews any more fight-worthy? Or that Piras was the kind of man to negotiate a war, just to make him happy? “To assure ourselves of absolute victory, I plan to be ready in three weeks.”
The traitor did not try to hide his fury. “Thirty days? No, no, Admiral, absolutely not. I want those colonies yesterday. You’ll attack in a week.”
Alien Revolt (Clans of Kalquor Book 11) Page 12