Shalia's Diary Omnibus

by Tracy St. John

  “—then I was in Katrina’s room letting three men undress me. I’m so glad they didn’t rip my clothes.” Candy examined her outfit, as if to confirm it hadn’t been torn during her ravishment.

  “What happened was, I told Candy’s initial friend they needed to move along to the other room. He helped her stand and our shy, retiring little virgin looked around at the dozen or so young men. As demanding as a queen with a harem, she pointed at two other candidates saying, “I’ll take this one and this one too. I’m a friendly girl, and I’m finally ready to prove it.”

  While I sprayed a mouthful of coffee in my hysterics over the image of the Girl Next Door nonchalantly choosing her companions in debauchery, Candy covered her face with her hands.

  “Oh hell,” she groaned. “You’ll have to remind me of their names so I’ll can avoid them. How embarrassing!”

  “I hope you remember having sex,” I said, wiping Katrina’s table with the napkin she tossed to me.

  “I remember.” Candy’s grin was pure lechery. “I remember all that. Which brings me to my next question: when is the next gathering, Katrina? Tonight, I hope?”

  We laughed. Another Earther sex fiend had been born, thanks to the Kalquorians.

  I waited until we went to lunch before I shared my own news. I wasn’t about to distract us from Candy’s big breakthrough. Since she wasn’t so free as to trumpet her conquests in the crowded dining hall, I chose then to tell her and Katrina they would soon be aunties.

  Squeals, hugs, and congratulations were poured on. My friends were delighted with my decision.

  Come to think of it, now that the angst of figuring out what to do about my pregnancy is done, I’m pretty happy about it too. I’m going to be a mom.

  Holy shit. I’m about to be somebody’s mother!

  January 12

  I recorded another message to Dusa, Esak, and Weln. I managed to sound cheerful while I did so. They wouldn’t want to hear how much I miss them, or that the moment I stopped recording, I broke down and cried. They won’t answer this message any more than they’ve answered the others.

  I announced I’d decided to have the baby. Then I apologized for having told them I was pregnant at all, since it’s impossible for them to be the fathers. I was sorry that I might have hurt them.

  “Don’t worry about us. I’ll find a good clan to raise this child with, men who’ll love it as much as they would their own,” I promised. “I hope it looks like one of you, to remind me of what we shared.”

  I took a deep breath at that point, thinking of all the joy I’d had with those three men. Even the rough situations didn’t seem so awful when it came to my first Kalquorian loves. Dusa bending over me as I laid sick and exhausted in a flowerbed. Esak’s proud head shaved and showing the scars of the attack that had nearly killed him. Weln waiting for Mom’s profanity-filled yelling at him to subside.

  “I understand you believe we shouldn’t see each other again,” I said from too many miles away. “But at least send word when you leave Earth and get home safely. Give me that comfort, because you three will always own a piece of my heart. If I live five hundred years, those few weeks with you will remain among the best of my life.”

  I signed off before I could ruin the image of a calm, strong Shalia by becoming whiny, weepy Shalia. As I said, it would bother them to hear me cry, and I’ve done plenty of damage. I can’t be grown up enough to hope they meet some other nice Earther girl who will love them better than I have, but I’m working up to it.

  Who knows, maybe they’ll come home and ask to see me. Maybe I won’t have found a clan that sweeps me off my feet. Maybe Clan Dusa and I will discover we’re compatible and we can live happily ever after.

  That’s a lot of maybes.

  In the meanwhile, I have a couple of things to keep me from climbing in bed and pulling the covers over my head. Betra can distract me from my shattered dreams. I have a baby to plan for. It feels I live for diversions to keep me from contemplating what I left behind. What else can I do, though? I can’t spend the years ahead of me worrying about woulda, coulda, shoulda. My life is what I’ve made it, for better or worse. If Clan Dusa is to be a part of it, whether in a large or small way, then hooray! If not...well, it’s stupid to mope, isn’t it? It’s time to go back into survivor mode. After all, next to fucking up better than anybody else, surviving is what I do best.

  January 13

  We got an ugly wake-up call this morning when alarms started blaring all over the ship. Startled, I thrashed my way out of bed. After about half a second’s consideration, I pulled on yesterday’s clothes. I’d left my blouse, trousers, and socks puddled all over the floor rather than tossing them in the laundry intake last night. All hail laziness. If the ship was about to blow up, I wouldn’t disintegrate in my nightgown.

  I ran for the door of my quarters to the accompaniment of the announce chiming and fists pounding on the outside. It sounded as if things were bad, and I thought my heart might break through my chest in the panic. I opened the door to see Katrina dressed and ready for whatever hell we were about to face. She was accompanied by a bathrobe-clad and discombobulated Candy, her blond hair sticking out in every direction.

  “What is it?” I screamed, ready to go into full freak-out. I’m always prepared for that.

  “We don’t know. Everyone is going to their liaison to find out.” Katrina’s voice was pitched higher than usual and a little loud, but she was the least crazed of our trio.

  “Come on, Shalia!” Candy yelled, making my ears pop.

  We joined the stampede of women through the corridor, running straight to Betra’s office, where we were supposed to go in an emergency. He was surrounded by the rest of his charges outside his office door, looking about until he saw us coming. His relief was obvious as we joined our group.

  “Okay, stay with me,” he announced as we crowded close, yelling to be heard over our frantic questions. “We’re heading for the shuttle bay. Once we’re there and in our escape ship, I’ll explain what is happening.”

  “Escape ship!” came the chorus from ten frightened women. Somebody called out, “But we haven’t started our drills for that yet!”

  Betra’s smile was both tight-lipped and soothing. “No, but I’ve been trained. You’ll be fine if you stick close. Come on.”

  He led the way, setting aside panicked women from other groups who blundered in his path as they sought out their own liaisons. When Betra saw women he recognized, he called them by name, giving them directions.

  “Carolyn, Dramok Dryr is over there. Go to him and he’ll tell you what to do. Marla, don’t stand there and cry, sweetheart. Your liaison is on our way, so walk with me until we join him. Justine, stop bossing everyone around and go to Imdiko Irgna as you’re supposed to. He’s been trained for this and you haven’t.”

  Through the madness and mayhem, Betra was a beacon of calm. Even setting aside the sexual relationship we’ve developed, I am damned glad he’s my liaison. The rest of my group would agree; we all followed him like ducklings confidently following their mama.

  The sirens abruptly cut off and a heavy voice – I believe it belonged to Captain Wotref – spoke in Kalquorian over the PA system. Betra paused to listen, and we stopped too. After Wotref finished his spiel, Betra turned to us.

  “The emergency is over. However, you’ve done well so far. Why don’t we continue to the shuttle bay to practice an evacuation drill?”

  We murmured assent, though it appeared as if most of us had been roused out of bed. Being in a group after the scare felt good at the moment, especially having Betra there. We and a few other groups kept trooping down the corridor.

  “Are you going to tell us what happened?” Candy asked.

  “After the drill,” Betra promised. “For now, I need you to keep quiet with all your attention on me in case I need to give you direction.”

  We soon packed into an in-ship transport. Betra said, “Shuttle Bay Seven. Mataras, remember that locat
ion if for any reason you can’t get to me. Where are you to go?”

  “Shuttle Bay Seven,” we chorused, dutiful school children.

  “Perfect. You are assigned to Shuttle 407. The shuttle’s number corresponds to its docking space, so if you become confused, you can ask any crewmember where it is. Repeat your shuttle number please.”

  We did. The transport stopped and opened out into the shuttle bay, and we moved out.

  I saw why Betra worried we might go astray. Hundreds of the sleek, oblong shuttle craft were housed in that space. I’d been in there, or another bay identical to it, when I’d boarded the transport. However, I’d seen it through a blur of tears. Having just left Earth, my dads, and Weln behind, I’d been too overcome to pay much attention to my surroundings.

  We remained in a tight knot as we followed on Betra’s heels. He explained that our shuttle was in the fourth grouping to the right of the in-ship transports as we exited, which meant it was all the way on one side of the bay.

  “You Mataras will be in the second wave of evacuations, should we have to leave the ship,” he told us as we passed shuttle after shuttle. “We think waiting enemies would target the first few escaping ships. That’s why the first wave will be decoys. Pay attention; your ship is on the front row of this grouping. It’s not that hard to find.”

  He led us to our assigned shuttle. “Our group is among three using this, so board quickly. Go as far to the rear as you can and take your seat.”

  The hatch was open, allowing us to follow Betra’s directions. We were the only group assigned to this shuttle running the drill, so our crowd of ten ended up bunched in the back of the shuttle. We sat.

  “Immediately upon sitting, activate your seat’s restraint field. For those of you who don’t recall where that is located, it is the red button on the side of your left armrest. Once you’ve activated it, strap on the manual harness. We may be taking off in a hurry, so be sure to secure yourselves immediately. We could be in for a bumpy ride. It’s important you’re ready for that.”

  Betra moved up the aisle between the double rows of seats, ensuring we’d strapped ourselves in good and tight. His grin was proud.

  “Excellent! Everyone is properly secured. You did well. In the future, if you are not on our level in our section when alarms go off, com your location to me. From there, you’ll come directly here. If I am not here yet, com a message that you have safely boarded your shuttle. If the alarms go off and you are in the Matara living area, come straight to my office to report. Questions?”

  We were clear on what we were supposed to do. When no queries piped up, Candy said, “How about telling us what the hell happened a few minutes ago?”

  Betra chuckled at her impatience. “A few small Tragoom raiders decided to try their luck. They failed miserably. Only one got away from the destroyers escorting us.”

  That earned him a few cheers. Yay for dead Tragooms. Despite Betra’s grin, I noted the tension around his eyes.

  “Are we in any other danger?” I asked. “Those raiders don’t pose any real risk to us, do they?”

  Betra’s expression sobered more, and we quieted. His tone careful, he said, “The raiders could have been a scout detail sent by a larger group. We’ll remain on high alert for a while longer.”

  I had another question. “Is there a chance we could be boarded?”

  Betra drew a deep breath. “If the destroyer escorts were taken out, there is that risk. It’s all the more reason for us to be ready to abandon the transport if we must.”

  I thought about that. Escape was the best possible option if Tragooms got on board. Yet I had some ugly memories of being in a nearly inescapable situation, in which I and others had almost died. Sometimes you end up boxed in with nowhere to run. I have no intention of ever finding myself in that situation again.

  I came to a decision in that moment. If I have to get in every Kalquorian’s face on this transport, somebody is giving us women blasters and teaching us how to use them.

  January 14

  Yesterday, following the evacuation drill, I consulted with my group and Betra. During the impromptu meeting, I talked about how we Earther girls needed to train with blasters and be allowed access to weapons in emergencies. I impressed on Betra what had happened to me and Candy at the Academy, when we’d been locked in a burning building to die. How we might have avoided that horror if our blasters hadn’t been confiscated.

  I have to give our liaison credit. Betra didn’t pooh-pooh my concerns even once. He offered no condescending bullshit on how the manly Kalquorians would keep us safe and to not worry our pretty little heads about such things. He listened, asked a few questions, and requested input from the rest of the group.

  “I was there with Shalia,” Candy said. “I’ve never felt so trapped and helpless my entire life. I’m determined to be able to defend myself. I agree we should be armed and trained.”

  Katrina said, “You’d better believe it. It’s terrifying when those alarms went off. Maybe a blaster won’t help us in that situation, but we’d have a chance if we were boarded before we could escape.”

  The others chimed in. They begged to be trained, ‘so we don’t shoot our own feet off,’ as somebody said.

  Betra agreed. “I’ll arrange a meeting with the weapons commander of this ship about the matter. He’d be the first hurdle to approving such a thing. If everyone is okay with it, Shalia and Candy can represent you at the meeting. Their experience is the best argument possible.”

  It was agreed on. Early this morning, Betra called Candy and I to his office to meet with Weapons Commander Nobek Oses.

  My initial thought when I came into the room was ‘Hello, mountain pretending to be a man.’ I’d been impressed with the amazing physique of Oses when he was thirty yards away. Up close, he was even more astonishing. Heaven help me, Betra looked made of twigs next to him.

  It was hard to notice his face with that chiseled body filling my gaze. Oses does have a head on top of all that steel and granite flesh. His curly hair falls past his shoulders and frames intense features. He’s not classically handsome, but I found him striking nonetheless. Piercing eyes, flared nostrils, and full lips that I could nibble on for days.

  Did I mention the pregnancy hormones seem to make me prefer brute masculinity? I had the wild urge to pull Oses’s formsuit off and lick every inch of him. I mean, I LITERALLY ached to lick him...yes, tongue out and slurping all over those hills and crevices. Why can’t I crave normal stuff such as pickles and ice cream, for crying out loud?

  Candy and I sat down as Oses bowed to us. His nostrils flared wider when he looked at me, reminding me that I had that funny pregnancy smell that the Kalquorians find so enthralling. Oh boy. If the commander started following me around, I didn’t know how I’d say no – especially if he consented to that weird urge I have to lick him.

  The weapons commander said nothing, however, and his expression kept a pleasant, if savage, respectfulness. He remained standing, as did Betra.

  “Thank you for seeing us,” Betra began. “We’ll try to only take a few minutes, but the Mataras have some concerns about their safety.”

  “I can always make time for you and your charges, Imdiko,” Oses said in a rough voice that filled the room. His gaze went from me to Betra and held there.

  Betra averted his gaze from the weapons commander. Again, I had that sense of something between the two, a tension between them. I wonder what the story is.

  Betra explained our wish to be armed and trained. Candy and I described to the attentive Oses what we had gone through back at the Academy, which was the long and short of our case. Similar to Betra the day before, Oses didn’t downplay our fears or tut-tut our abilities to defend ourselves.

  After some discussion, he said, “I can understand your feelings on the matter, Mataras. While it is unlikely we’ll be boarded, there is always a chance. After all, we were sure Tragoom raiders wouldn’t dare bother us with two destroyers keeping watch, yet t
hey tried our defenses anyway.”

  “Expect the unexpected,” I muttered. It should be my mantra.

  He smiled, softening the harsh planes of his face. Oses might not be conventionally handsome, but he’s fine to contemplate, especially when he smiles. “I’ll consult with the ship’s officers, as well as Fleet Command, on the matter. I’ll inform them that I support your suggestion.”

  Candy and I expressed our enthusiastic thanks. Betra added his gratitude, still refusing to meet Oses’s gaze. “I appreciate you doing this for us, Commander. We’ll get out of your way and let you resume your duties. Shalia, may I speak to you in private before you go?”

  I had the idea that Betra was subtly asking me not to leave him alone with Oses. There was something weird with those two.