Shalia's Diary Omnibus

by Tracy St. John

  They chorused “I love you” back, and then I was left staring at the blank hatch of the shuttle. I don’t remember taking my seat, but I’m sure an attendant had to help me. I found myself sitting next to Candy. Our arms wrapped around each other. We clung and cried, like most of the other Earthers on board.

  We felt the slight tremor of the shuttle moving, signaling our departure from Earth.

  Now I must say goodbye to Earth itself. I can look up at the vid window and view my home planet for the last time. I will never walk on it again, not when it’s been damaged so bad. It will take centuries to clean it up, the initial estimates say. There’s even debate if it’s worth intervention since Earth is so far from the rest of the Galactic Council’s member planets. I hope they’ll fix it, though I’ll not live long enough to see that happen. Sentimental me.

  Goodbye, little blue world. I’m sorry we fucked you up so bad. You will be missed.

  SHALIA’S DIARY

  BOOK 3

  A Clans of Kalquor Story

  By

  Tracy St. John

  © copyright March 2014, Tracy St. John

  Cover art by Erin Dameron-Hill, © copyright May 2014

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s

  imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or

  events is merely coincidence.

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  December 1

  I’ve been settling in the last couple of days, trying to get my bearings on this big vessel. It’s huge, about the size of one of our old Earth battlecruisers, though it’s not armed to the teeth.

  There’s not much to tell since we boarded the transport, which belongs to the Kalquorian fleet. Life has consisted of me unpacking the few belongings I have, crying from missing my friends at the Academy, and sitting with Candy as we alternate between laughing and bawling over any little thing. We’re a mess.

  I’ll explain about this transport, which is akin to a space-going city. Okay, so maybe it’s not quite as big as a city, but it ain’t small.

  First of all, there is the Earther Matara quarters area. This part of the ship is where all us girls hoping for clan love will live for the next nine months as we head to Kalquor. We have our own dining room in this section. They serve everything from my ronka and pilchok obsession to surf and turf. I wonder if they’ve laid in a supply of butchered beef or brought live cattle on this ship. I also have to wonder about the seafood. Did they install aquariums in order to transport our ocean life?

  There is also an ‘amusement room’. It’s essentially a seriously upgraded rec room. The Kalquorians filled it with activities, vid entertainments like concerts and performances (some are old Earth recordings), hobbies, and games. I’ve already loaded some book collections onto my dear old handheld here. Nine months is a long stretch to fill, don’t you know?

  There is even a little shopping center in our section. Apparently, the Kalquorians were busy thinking about us on Earth. They gathered merchandise that wasn’t looted after Armageddon. There are clothes, decorative items to personalize our quarters, computers, handhelds, as well as jewelry and makeup. The craziest part is that it costs zilch. No one is spending her Kalquorian government-issued allowance on any of this stuff. It is rationed carefully however, allowing everyone a chance to select nice treats for themselves. Once the goodies run out, we will have to pay for similar items picked up on other planets, space stations, and colonies. It sounds as if by the time we make our first stop, we’ll have accumulated some decent funds to buy some of the more exotic stuff. Candy and I are already discussing our splurges. She wants to buy what passes for a dress from a Plasius vendor at the Adraf space station where we’re scheduled to take shore leave. Sorry, but a couple of scraps of fabric do not constitute clothing, in my humble opinion. Plus she’s hoping for some jewelry.

  As for me, I’m up for the jewelry too, especially if we happen upon a Joshadan craftsman. Joshadans are supposedly the best at handmade items like that. I’m also planning to score a bottle of leshella, which they say makes our finest champagne taste like toilet water. Maybe I’ll find Mom a ‘getting out of stasis’ present. What the heck, it’s not as if I have to pay for room and board.

  I understand there is a common area that Earthers and Kalquorians can both visit, somewhere near the center of the ship. I haven’t ventured in that direction yet. Curiosity has not overcome the sense of depressed apathy that I’m currently experiencing. I guess once I accept that I am not returning to Earth, I’ll pull my act together.

  Anyway, here’s what I found out about the common area. That’s where there are more dining options, supplies for sale, a hall for performances, and a couple of clubs for entertainment. I have no idea what constitutes a Kalquorian club, though I suspect lemanthev music is probably involved. Of course, that encourages me to mope over Dusa, Esak, and Weln.

  Speaking of them, I have commed them and Dad twice since I left. I’m sad to see them, so much that I should stop contacting them so often. Yeah, right. That’s not happening. I’m a clinging vine. There is no big news to report from their end yet. Weln hasn’t left the Academy to join Dusa and Esak. He’s waiting for a shuttle to arrive from Atlanta. Meanwhile, there continues to be talk of shutting down the Academy site. I wonder where Nang would end up in that case. The bottom of the ocean is my vote.

  Anyway, I was talking about this transport. Past the common area are Kalquorian crew quarters, and then the ship’s engineering and bridge sections. We’re not encouraged to visit the crew’s living space. The operating departments of the transport, engineering and the bridge are off limits entirely.

  We’re supposed to get more information on the whys and wherefores of our long ride at an orientation tomorrow. Oh! We also have two destroyers escorting the transport to Kalquor. The fact we need them is concerning, but there isn’t a protected route that extends from Earth to Kalquor. The empire is working on setting it up, but that’s taking time and resources. I’m hoping the Tragooms leave us alone, along with the opportunistic Dantovonians and Bi’isils. Sure, the Galactic Council insisted Earthers couldn’t be taken as outright slaves, only indentured servants. Bi’is swears up and down it doesn’t do that, nor do they perform experiments on other sentients. I don’t believe it for a second. There have been waaaay too many stories, even long before the war.

  I suppose that’s all for now. It will be interesting to discover what tomorrow’s orientation brings up. Candy is hoping for cute Kalquorians, of course. Personally, I’ve had my fill of men. I left three sweethearts, an asshole, and a dad behind. I can’t be bothered with any other guys for any reason. I have to marshal my strength for the lottery on Kalquor in nine months.

  December 2

  When it comes to time-wasting meetings, Kalquor is on par with Earth. The orientation was a rehash of the welcome message the computer played when I first entered my quarters a few days ago. Well, mostly. A few interesting things came up.

  We newbies were assigned a liaison. This is a Kalquorian whom we can contact with questions and concerns at any hour of the day. Every liaison has ten of us to keep an eye on. Mine and Candy’s is Imdiko Betra. Similar to the other Imdikos I’ve met, he has a sweet, open face that begs you to trust him. Candy went dreamy-eyed over him in an instant. Her crushes come and go with amazing rapidity, so she’ll be over him by tomorrow.

  He’s a cutie, older than Weln. He’s the Boy Next Door type with the biggest biceps I’ve ever seen on a man. Yes, I checked him out. No, I have no i
ntention of doing more than that. I am done with playing with these men.

  I did find out Betra is unclanned, which was a surprise. I thought the Imdikos all clanned pretty fast, and Betra is older than me. I guess he’s holding out for somebody special. Smart guy.

  The other interesting person I met was Katrina Dawson. I was startled to spot an older woman among us, who was over childbearing age. She’s gotten permission from Kalquor to live there in order to counsel the young women at the living complex. She’s a lean lady, extremely fit. Her gray hair was brushed back and held with a hair clip. She told me it was in that awful in-between growing-out stage.

  “A lot of the Kalquorians prefer longer hair on a woman,” she said with a sly smile. “Who am I to disappoint them?”

  Candy blinked at her. “You, um, you like Kalquorians?” She was flustered, which clued Katrina in on what she was really asking.

  “You mean having sex? Honey, I adore teaching those boys what a woman needs!”

  I was as stunned as Candy. I mean, despite her impressive build, Katrina has a schoolteacher-nearing-retirement vibe. Yet here she was, grinning at us with happy debauchery.

  I said, “You teach them?”

  Katrina trilled laughter. “Damned straight I do. I was married three times for a total of thirty-five years. I should hope I understand a thing or two about sex. That’s the type of counseling I’ll do for you gals on Kalquor. It’s not the awful, terrible act you were told to expect by the Church. I’ll take the fear and confusion out of it.”

  Candy appeared dazed. “You said you were teaching boys.”

  Katrina snorted. “At my age, any man younger than forty is a boy. However, I do prefer those in their twenties. It’s best to catch these Kalquorians while they’re still young. They’re grateful to be with a woman and ready to do whatever she desires. For another, they realize they don’t know it all, so they’re willing to let a woman with experience show them what works. I think of myself as their training Matara.”

  I thought Candy would fall over in a dead faint. “Holy shit, you’re old enough to be my mom,” she whispered. “No offense, but I can’t imagine someone your age doing...you know. That.”

  Katrina didn’t take offense. Instead, her grin broadened. “Well, you realize your mom had to have done that for you to be born. She might have even enjoyed it.”

  Candy turned green.

  I envy Katrina. It must be nice to have sex with no need for an emotional investment. It seems there would be a lot less heartache. Maybe if I’d stop getting attached, I’d make fewer bad decisions.

  December 3

  Damn, I’m lonely without my guys. I spoke with Dusa, Esak, and Weln via vid earlier today. We had sex...well, sort of. I guess it’s more accurate to say I had sex with myself while they watched.

  Weln has made it to Atlanta. It was wonderful to see the gang all together again. They acted cheerful, which gave me a pang of jealousy. No, I do not wish them to pine for want of me. They should be happy. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit it hurts that their lives will go fine with me absent. Ugh, I’m an awful person.

  They did say over and over how they missed me. Dusa sighed, “It hurts to see you and not be able to touch,” he told me. “Here you are, in front of me, and yet you’re too far away.”

  “Tell me about it,” I grouched, my eyes wandering over the three delicious bodies that looked for all the world like they stood there in my quarters. Dusa and Esak were in their uniform formsuits, which clung so very nicely to their bodies. Weln’s trousers were fitted, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. It was all I could do to not reach for them.

  “Feel free to strip naked and remind me of what I’m missing,” I said with half-hearted lasciviousness. “Maybe I’ll have nice dreams tonight.”

  Dusa’s grin was naughty. “I’d rather you got naked, Shalia.” His voice deepened with command. “Go ahead. Take your clothes off.”

  I jerked in response. It was the dominant voice he’d used with me when it came to sex, and I responded as automatically as Pavlov’s dog. I was wet in an instant, especially when I saw how all three pairs of eyes darkened.

  Not thinking about what I was doing, my blouse flew over my head and through the air. My pants went next, followed by underclothes. I was soon standing in front of them, bare and eager.

  This is ridiculous, I told myself. We can’t do anything!

  They disagreed with me. “Lie down on your sleeping mat,” Esak said. He’d pitched a hell of a tent in his pants.

  I had to back up a few steps to obey. The com connection, complying with a barked command from Dusa, zoomed them closer so it was as if they stood at the edge of the bed, looming over me.

  “Spread your legs. Touch yourself,” Weln whispered. “Put your hands on your breasts and pussy.”

  Dusa added, “Excite yourself for us.”

  I did as I was told, moaning as I massaged one nipple and rubbed the soaked petals of my sex. It wasn’t my touch that was setting me on fire, though it added to the excitement. No, it was their eyes on me and insistent demands that had me writhing in pleasure.

  “Pinch your nipple for me,” Esak growled. “Pinch it hard as I would, making you accept my mastery.”

  My finger and thumb were pincers, offering heady stings. When Esak told me to do the same to the other nipple, I obeyed with no hesitation. Then Dusa and Weln chimed in. Orders came at me, one after the other, orders I was to comply with as soon as I received them.

  “Open your pussy. Show me everything.”

  “Rub the side of your clit. Only the sides. No direct contact.”

  “Two fingers inside. Fuck yourself with them. That’s it.”

  “Slower. You may not come without permission. Mind me, Shalia.”

  “Rub your clit. Make it feel good.”

  “You still may not come.”

  “Put another finger inside.”

  “Faster. Fuck yourself a little faster.”

  “Rub your clit harder. Don’t come yet.”

  It went on like that for several minutes. I laid there, pleasuring and torturing myself at their say-so, sobbing with need, as helpless to defy them as if they’d been standing there ready to punish me for any offense. They leaned in, watching with rapt attention. They made me work my grasping pussy harder and faster until my arm ached. My lower body coiled tight, on the verge of an orgasm I fought against. I realize how insane this all sounds, but I was simultaneously trying to make myself come and stop myself from coming. All at the behest of my wonderful, cruel Kalquorians.

  I was reduced to screaming at them. “Please, Dusa! Please!”

  He groaned and grabbed Esak’s shoulder, as if to keep from falling to the ground. His voice strained, Dusa said, “Come, Shalia.”

  A final pinch to my engorged, desperate clit, and I tumbled into ecstasy. I jerked all over that sleeping mat, wailing with every pulse that clenched my guts. It was what I’d wanted, and yet it was empty without those strong arms around me.

  When I calmed, I noted I wasn’t alone in finding physical satisfaction. “Better send out the laundry,” Weln observed, his eyes half-lidded with completion.

  Dusa had ended up on the floor after all. He sat there, his head down as he caught his breath. When he looked up at me, his smile was bittersweet, as if he’d found the encounter as barren as I had. Still, his eyes were loving. “Thank you, Shalia,” he said.

  “Damn it, I miss you,” I blurted.

  That earned dark heads nodding in agreement. Esak couldn’t speak until our com session ended a few minutes later. None of us could talk after that. It was too painful to continue. The four of us muttered “I love you” and “take care of yourselves” and clicked off.

  Nope. I’m not investing emotionally in any other Kalquorians until I choose a clan. I promise, cross my heart, and hope to die. Whoever said, “It’s better to have love and lost than to never have loved at all” deserves to have his teeth kicked in.

  December 6
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  I hate to say it, but boredom is already setting in. I have nine months to go. Nine months of this stupid ship. Fuck.

  The only thing of note that has happened in the last few days is my one-on-one meeting with the liaison. The entirely too-cute Imdiko Betra commed me yesterday to ask if I would sit down with him for a few minutes. I almost told him no, I was booked solid for the next two years and would he care to schedule a reservation? Thou art a smartass, Shalia.

  I met with him in his office, which is situated at one end of the Earther Matara section of the ship. I guess that makes keeping an eye on us gals easy, having him so close. I sat down in his ‘conversation area’, across the small room from his work desk. It consists of a low table surrounded by huge pillows he refers to as seating cushions. They were nice and soft. I wouldn’t mind sleeping on one...they’re about big enough to do so.