To Clan and Conquer (Clan Beginnings) (17 page)

Tranis gripped the armrests of his chair as he struggled with his own fury.  Thousands of Kalquorians were now dead.  Killed without warning, without provocation.  He growled, “Something is trying to knock out all border defenses.  But why?”

Surprisingly, it was the Nobek in the room that seemed least affected.  With seeming serenity, Lidon said, “I do have an identification on the battle drone signatures.  They match up to Earther samples taken by Adraf spies.”

Piras’ brow creased.  “Earthers?”

Tranis was equally startled.  “That race that showed up in Galactic Council space two years ago?  The aliens that supposedly resemble us?”

Piras leaned forward, his eyes narrowing.  “What intel do we have on them?”

Lidon took out his handheld though he didn’t look at it.  “Only that they come from a very remote planet that their population is rapidly outgrowing.  Even their colonies are overburdened.  They’re apparently searching for an uninhabited world that doesn’t require terraforming.”

Tranis blinked.  “There are that many of them?”  He couldn’t imagine.  The Kalquorian population barely took up room on their home planet.  With only 300 years left until probable extinction, even the colonies were undermanned.  The few thousand dead were a heavy toll for his people.

“We don’t know that much about them,” Lidon said, scowling.  “There was initial excitement when they appeared because they are so similar to us.  But when our ambassadors approached them in hopes of testing for interbreeding compatibility, they were rebuffed.  Apparently, the Earther government is run by their religion, and we insulted them by suggesting such
perversion
.  They have since kept their distance from our diplomats.  What we’ve learned about them comes through intermediaries.”

Piras turned thoughtful.  “An extremely devout species.  Something in common with you, Weapons Commander.  Perhaps we can make you our ambassador to Earth.  You can have deep, philosophical discussions.”

Tranis found no humor in the situation.  “Not if Earth is behind these attacks.  Philosophy is the last thing the Empire will speak to them about.”

Lidon looked at his handheld and frowned at it.  “We have no idea of their strengths or tactics in battle.  It is a possibility the aliens are our aggressors.  Records show they have been in contact with the Joshadan home world in recent months.  Something about a joint colonization effort, but the particulars aren’t known at this time.”

Piras’ interest sharpened.  “They need to be known, since we offer the Joshadans border security.”

Tranis nodded his agreement.  “Not to mention their space is alongside ours, and it’s on those borders that these attacks are occurring.  Are we going to the latest colony to fall silent, Captain?”

Piras stood and came around the desk.  Tranis and Lidon turned their chairs to watch him pace back and forth.  Tranis had noticed Piras liked to move when he was thinking his hardest.  Lidon had confirmed that, telling Tranis that even if Piras remained seated while his mind worked feverishly, his right leg would bounce up and down.  The habit made Lidon edgy.

After spanning the office a couple of times, Piras stilled.  He faced his men.

“No, Commander, we will not go to that colony.  As much as I despise not checking there for survivors, the colonists would have not had anywhere like Natamev’s mines to retreat to.  Probably everyone there is dead, just like here.”

Lidon’s hands curled into fists, his first indication of tension.  “We go to the next colony likely to fall then; Wetor.  It’s next in the pattern of attacks.”

Piras ground his teeth together.  “Exactly.”  He looked at Tranis.  “Commander, get us there as fast as our engines can take us.  Perhaps we can stop another annihilation.  Lidon, transmit everything we’ve learned from the destroyed stations and colonies to the fleet.  Put everyone on alert, especially Wetor’s nearest defense station.  Assume we’re going into battle as soon as we get there.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Piras moved back behind his desk.  “Dismissed.”

Tranis stood and turned to the door to the bridge, his thoughts churning.  He didn’t realize Lidon wasn’t following until the Nobek said, “If I may have a moment more, Piras?”

Lidon’s use of the captain’s name was not in keeping with protocol, and that piqued Tranis’ curiosity.  But he’d already walked out onto the bridge and the door shut behind him, keeping him from hearing anymore.

* * * *

As soon as the door closed behind Tranis, Piras folded his arms over his chest and crooked an eyebrow at Lidon.  “Have you exhausted your infatuation with the young Dramok yet?  I’ve smelled as of late that you’ve been playing with that eternal prankster of a medic too.”

Lidon sat quietly, thinking how to form what he wanted to say just right.  As usual, Piras wanted an answer right away.

Making an exasperated noise, the captain said, “Please tell me you’ve gotten these ridiculous urges out of your system.”

Fine.  Lidon could be an impatient asshole too.  “I’m afraid not, Piras.  But I have decided to end things as they stand.”

He stopped himself before he could get ugly.  Took a deep breath.  Spoke from the heart.  “I care for you.  You are an excellent Dramok … but not the Dramok for me.”

Piras stared at him.  The smirk he wore faded from his expression.  There was a flash of hurt.  “You are not clanning with that upstart first officer.  You’re thirty years older than him!  He’s a child compared to you!”

Lidon kept his gaze steady.  “I didn’t say I was clanning with Tranis.  He’s mature beyond his years, but things have not reached that point yet.  I don’t know that they ever will.”  He leaned forward.  “The issue has nothing to do with the first officer.  Piras, the fact that I’m looking to other men, that I would pursue another Dramok for companionship and fulfillment tells me more than anything else we are not suited for one another.”

Piras shook his head, as if trying to wake himself from a bad dream.  “You’ve always had commitment issues.”

“With you.  I feel completely capable of clanning with Imdiko Degorsk without a second’s hesitation.  All I lack is a Dramok compatible for both him and myself.”

Inside, Lidon winced.  No matter how carefully he tried to do this, it still sounded brutal.  Maybe there was no good way to break off a relationship, especially one that had gone on as long as theirs.

Despair was giving way to anger.  Piras’ whole body seemed to clench.  “This is insane.  You’re leaving me because I don’t want that silly creature as my clanmate?”

“Partly.  But mostly because I simply can’t see you as my clanmate.”  Lidon shook his head, remorse filling him.  Regret that he had to hurt Piras.  Regret he’d wasted fifteen years of both their lives trying to make things work.  “We’re better as friends.  As captain and his commander.  My heart is not in it for more.  I’m sorry.”

Piras’ lip curled.  “You’re twice the fool as that Imdiko.  Especially if you think your young Tranis is going to give you what you want.”

Lidon knew things would only get ugly from this point.  Piras was feeling too much betrayal right now to be anything but livid. 

The Nobek stood.  “I must attend my duties now.”  He turned to leave.

“I have not dismissed you, Weapons Commander.”

The tone was pure Dramok, giving no quarter, expecting immediate obedience.  Lidon stopped and turned back to Piras.

He looked at the man he’d been with so long, looked at him as a lover one last time.  Piras was an exemplary captain, a brave and excellent if temperamental leader.  Unfortunately, that leadership had never translated into being the head of a clan.  Professionally, Piras was a very different man from the one Lidon knew in private.  He had wasted many years hoping Piras would become the Dramok he thought he could be.

Glowering, Piras spit out, “You are dismissed.”

Lidon let him go, in his heart and his head.  It wasn’t that hard to do, telling him loud and clear that he had made the right decision.  They were nothing more than captain and crewmember now.  He gave his commanding officer a formal bow.  “Yes, Captain.”

He turned sharply and left the office.  The Nobek hoped there would be no repercussions from his decision as far as his career was concerned.  He reasoned Piras was a strict but fair captain.  Lidon trusted duty would win out over personal issues.

* * * *

The colony of Wetor was a pleasant little outpost on an otherwise dark world.  With no moon and Kalquor’s sun too far away to light it, orbiting space reflectors provided the illusion of daylight.  With twenty-seven hour days, terraforming treatments, and atmospheric chargers, it seemed a piece of Kalquor itself had been transplanted onto what had been a desolate rock.  Here, alien species of plants and animals were raised, providing the Empire with favored foreign cuisines without the danger of invasive species altering the home planet.

Just as pleasant was the colony’s governor, Dramok Artmak.  His darker-than-usual skin and calloused hands told Tranis he wasn’t content to merely administrate from behind his desk.  This was a man used to hard work outdoors.  He also had some sense of grandeur, greeting the landing party’s arrival in well-cut clothes and his long hair tied back in a neat queue.  His speech was impeccable, his manners blameless.  Tranis found himself fascinated with Artmak’s mesh of differing qualities:  farmer, diplomat, and gentleman.

At this moment the landing team of Piras, Tranis, Lidon, and Degorsk sat in a portion of Artmak’s office, comfortably lounging on overstuffed seating cushions around a polished black table.  The governor poured them a concoction of aromatic nuj tea, spiked with a natural stimulant.  It was midday on the colony but night hours on the destroyer.

The governor frowned as he poured.  “It makes no sense anyone would want to destroy Wetor.  We are nothing more than a farming colony.  Not only that, but we’re on the Joshadan border.”

Piras said, “It made no sense those mining and manufacturing colonies alongside Joshadan space would be destroyed either.”

Lidon sniffed his tea and had a sip.  “Yet here we are, facing an unknown enemy.”

Tranis swallowed a bite of meat cake.  It was made of an animal he wasn’t familiar with, raised on the colony.  All the food presented to them had been grown and raised here.  The exotic flavors were quite delicious, if foreign.

Keeping his mind on the task at hand, he said, “You’ve seen nothing suspicious at all?  Nothing that might be a scouting party, nothing strange flying in your space?”

Artmak shook his head.  “Nothing of the sort.  Nor have any of our workers reported anything amiss.  I would think the defense station would have picked up any such anomalies first, anyway.”

Lidon told him, “They should, but the ones belonging to the other colonies have been destroyed, just before the colonies were hit.  We have to assume they got little warning.”

“Have you alerted ours?”  Artmak finished pouring and took up his cup, sniffing the aroma wafting from it with pleasure.  He almost appeared more concerned with the lunch and its presentation than the danger that might be approaching.  However, Tranis noted how carefully he listened to their every word and the methodical way he had of drawing information from them.

The first officer answered, “The defense station is on high alert.  They have gone to deep space scan instead of the usual maintenance probes.”

Artmak passed a dish to Degorsk.  “You like the occhi spines, Doctor?  Please, have more.  They have just come into season and will be no more delicious than right now.”  As Degorsk accepted the delicacy, the governor returned to his musings.  “Bi’isil and Earther weaponry.  We haven’t had a disagreement with the Bi’isils since that border altercation … was it six or seven years ago?  And what could Earthers possibly want with us?  We’ve only just heard of their race.  I do try to keep up on current events, isolated as we are here.”

Lidon snagged a meat cake, his fourth by Tranis’ count.  “My vote remains with the Tragooms.  The facts don’t all fit with their usual patterns, but I just can’t escape the feeling they’ve got a hand in this,” he told them.

Piras didn’t even look at him as he spoke.  “Your personal history might be prejudicing you too, Weapons Commander.”

Tranis saw the brief flare of anger in Lidon’s eyes at the dismissive tone.  Piras had been damned cold towards the Nobek since their private talk earlier today.  He wondered what had passed between them.  He wondered if it would mean trouble for the colony’s defense.  Hopefully, the two men could put personal issues aside with danger on the horizon.

Degorsk wiped his mouth, his eyes darting between Piras and Lidon.  He’d picked up on the tension too.  He turned his attention to Artmak.  “What medical personnel do you have, Governor?”

“Quite adequate for our needs.  Most of the farming is automated, so there are only fifty of us for that.  We have one surgeon, two general practitioners, and seven on-call medics.  They’re often idle, but regulations stipulate we keep that many in case of emergency.”

“Facilities?”

“Also more than get used.”  Artmak chuckled, as if amused by the whims of regulations.  “Full body scanners, two operating theaters, up-to-date pharmaceuticals, so on.”

Lidon’s brow arched.  “But the medical department is not more protected than say, this building?”