To Clan and Conquer (Clan Beginnings) (3 page)

Underlining the typical attitude for the Kalquorian-Joshadan border, the weapons lieutenant muttered, “I can’t imagine anything dangerous coming from Joshada.”

Lidon shot him a glance.  “‘There is nothing as dangerous as not recognizing the potential for danger.’”

“Sir?”

Tranis’ voice came from Lidon’s left.  “The Book of Life, right?”

Lidon turned his attention to the first officer, restraining the urge to smile.  Young ones rarely paid much attention to the philosophical arts.  “Seventh chapter, twelfth verse,” he confirmed.

His lieutenant persisted.  “But what trouble could be coming from Joshadan space?”

Lidon kept his tone steady while acknowledging privately he might have to punch the man after all.  A good brain-rattling blow might clear the fog from a lazy mind quicker than anything.  “Ships of multiple origins could indicate Tragooms, since they steal from everyone.  And we know next to nothing about that new species that’s shown up recently.”

Tranis gave him a curious look.  “Earthers?  I haven’t heard of them being hostile.  Certainly not aggressive without cause, though some do say they strictly adhere to religious precepts.  An aide to an ambassador I spoke with said they are easily affronted by anything not conforming to their beliefs.”

Lidon nodded.  “They’ve attacked none of the members of the Galactic Planets.  It doesn’t mean they won’t, eventually.”

Tranis stared at him, his look speculative.

Lidon quirked a suggestion of a smile. “Don’t look so worried, Commander Tranis.  Nobeks, especially ones who have seen what I have, are a suspicious lot.  I have yet to meet an Earther, so I naturally expect the worst.”

The first officer snorted.  “Naturally.  Deferring to your greater experience, Weapons Commander, may I ask if it’s your view that I alter course towards the nearest defense station?  To check out those anomalous readings?”

Lidon’s estimation of the Dramok edged up a notch.  Young officers climbing the ranks often felt it lessened their standing to ask the opinions of those under them.  They had a bad habit of not recognizing the value of a range of judgments.  It was nice to know Tranis was not one of those.

The Nobek studied the intelligence carefully before answering.  “In all honesty, I see no reason to divert at this time.  The defense stations on the border are well armed, each with a complement of fighters.  Without confirmation of an enemy, I think you’ll be better off letting Captain Piras make that call.”

Tranis dipped his head.  “Thank you for your recommendation, Commander.  The captain will be on the bridge in a couple of hours anyway.”

Lidon went back to his reports, a sense of satisfaction warming his gut.  Piras was a hard man to serve under, but he thought Tranis would work out fine.

A few minutes later, he sensed someone approaching him from his left.  A pleasant, masculine scent wafted to his sensitive nostrils.  He looked up to see Tranis standing at the edge of his station, eyeing him carefully.

The first officer wouldn’t have moved so close unless he wanted to have a semi-private conversation.  Lidon took a step over, bringing their faces within inches of each other.  Close enough to feel Tranis’ warmth.  The Nobek’s cocks twitched.  No surprise there.  The Dramok was young and attractive with a personality Lidon found easy to relate to.  Nice fantasy material.

He pitched his voice low, curious to know what was on the other man’s mind.  “Can I help you, First Officer?”

Just as quietly, Tranis said, “Maybe.  We’ll be entering orbit around the CP-108 in seven hours.”

“I’m aware of that.   I look forward to enjoying a few hours of shore leave to breathe something besides canned air.  It should make the Nobeks less likely to take Dramok insults personally.”

Lieutenant Ranem’s violent run-in with the squad leader was no real surprise to Lidon.  Fights were breaking out more frequently.  On this particular pass, Piras had really pushed the Nobeks’ limits as far as their need to regularly get out of the destroyer’s tight confines.  He liked demonstrating his power as their captain, which was an essential component to his command.  Still, Lidon’s lover would be in a pretty mess trying to control nearly 150 claustrophobic Nobeks with only a third of that number of Dramoks and Imdikos.  Sometimes Lidon thought Piras pressed the crew’s warrior breed too hard.

Tranis’ voice lowered even more, his words only breath.  “I’ve been trying to get a few crewmembers together for a kurble game.  Would you like to participate?”

Lidon stilled and stared at him.  It seemed he would be punching someone after all, a jokester of a Dramok.  A growl slipped out.  “Who put you up to this, First Officer Tranis?”

There was that bare hint of humor from the young man again, sending a spike of hot fury through Lidon’s skull.  Tranis’ gaze held his, clearly not afraid.  “No one put me up to anything.  I know you have trouble with your leg, but the position of hurler defense doesn’t require running.  You’d only have to stay upright long enough to get in the way of the attackers so the hurler can throw the ball.”

Lidon’s fists clenched.  He was seriously pissed off now.  “I am well aware of how the game is played.”

“I know.  I used to watch you when you caught and ran for the Lotna Fleet Training Camp’s team.  My brothers took me to all the home games.”

Surprise took the place of anger.  Lidon blinked.  “Your brothers attended Lotna?”

Tranis nodded.  “A couple of them.  The oldest was three years behind you, so I doubt you ever met any of them.  You were amazing.  I always wondered why you didn’t turn pro.”

Lidon relaxed.  It wasn’t a joke.  If Tranis had Nobek brothers, he’d know a member of that breed suffering with a disability would be looking for ways to prove himself still strong.  Tranis wasn’t fucking with Lidon; he was offering him an opportunity.

In a much more conversational tone, Lidon said, “I wanted more adventure than the kurble field provided.”  He snorted, glancing down at his brace.  “I found more than I anticipated.  How many brothers do you have, Commander?”

Tranis grinned, lighting his handsome face in a way that made Lidon’s cocks twitch again.  “Five.  All older, and all Nobeks.”

Lidon couldn’t restrain his own smile.  Five brothers?  Tranis’ mother had been extremely fertile.  Bearing six children was unheard of these days.  A precious few Mataras managed to produce just one.  “Being the youngest brother to five of my breed must have been interesting.”

“They taught me how to play kurble.  I love the game.  The trouble is, most Nobeks don’t take a Dramok seriously when he tries to get a match going.”

Lidon could see his point.  Then again, there were Nobeks who would enjoy taking apart a Dramok who would dare to step onto their turf.  His grin spread.  “I might know a few who will take you up on your offer.  What’s your position?”

“Hurler.  I really could use a smart defender.”

Lidon snorted.  “Especially since Nobeks of the opposing team will think you’re an easy cart-off. “

Cart-offs were injured players who had to be carried off the field.  It was humiliating to be one of those.

Tranis shrugged.  “I think I might surprise them.”

Lidon looked at the young, strong body in front of him.  Tranis had the sturdy build needed by a hurler who would be thrown to the ground time and again.

The Nobek thought,
You’re certainly surprising me.  Too bad you’re so damned young, or I’d invite you to play other games.  I bet you’d be an animal in bed.

As opposed to Piras, who gave up control all too easily.

“So are you in, Commander?” Tranis prodded.

Lidon considered.  A hurler defender was in the thick of the action, yet Tranis was right; he’d only have to be in the way of attackers, holding them off long enough for Tranis to throw or hand off the ball.  Plenty of opportunity for pain while still contributing to his team.  And Piras, no fan of kurble and certainly no fan of Lidon playing it, would hate the idea.  Somehow, that made the decision easy.

“I’ll be your left flank defender, Tranis.”  The position would afford some protection for his damaged right leg.  He added, “I’ll see who else I can round up for the match.”

Tranis’ youth showed in that moment.  Pure boyish delight suffused his features.  He suddenly looked much younger than his 36 years.  “Thank you, Commander.  I look forward to it.”

The first officer returned to the captain’s station.  Lidon couldn’t help but watch him walk away, admiring those muscular thighs and the ass that topped them.

The things he could do with such a fine specimen.  Especially a Dramok that was fierce enough to play the sometimes deadly game kurble.

Amused at himself, the weapons commander went back to his reports.  Delicious to contemplate, Tranis was obviously too young to seriously consider someone like Lidon for a sexual romp.  Especially when Lidon was not just significantly older, but also crippled.

It was still fun to think about.

Chapter 2

Piras’ hands were clenched in fists at his sides.  His voice was low with disbelieving fury as he growled, “Tell me this is a joke, you stupid Nobek.”

Lidon arched an eyebrow at him.  Then he deliberately turned his back on the Dramok as he pulled on an older formsuit he’d meant to throw out.  The stretchy fabric was torn and frayed in several places, having seen action in a huge bar brawl on Dantovon a few months back.  It would do nicely for a kurble match.

Piras was every bit as peeved as Lidon had anticipated.  He told the captain, “I do believe my intelligence scores are almost a hundred points over yours.  If I’m stupid, what does that make you?”

“Intelligence and common sense are two different things, Lidon.  Apparently, you’re lacking badly in one of those.”

Most the kurble players would be barefoot.  No protective gear.  Lidon looked at his boots and considered.  His brace was designed to be worn with footwear.  Not only that, but Tranis had already scouted the area they would be playing the game.  Recent rains had left it muddy.  As much as Lidon hated to acknowledge he needed the help, he decided he would wear his ankle-high traction shoes.

Piras huffed impatiently.  “Are you even listening to me?  How can you possibly play kurble on that leg?”

Lidon sat on the edge of his sleeping mat and slipped on the shoes.  As he strapped his brace on, he said, “Badly.  Probably very badly.  But as the Book says, ‘Anything you would do to the best of your ability, though that ability be less than perfect, is a worthwhile endeavor.’”

Piras glared.  “Does the Book of Life say anything about making a bad situation worse?”

“‘The foolish ignores his ineptitude at his own risk.’”  Lidon smiled.  “Like any other philosophy, you can find support for all your arguments, no matter what side you take.”

Piras glanced at Lidon’s altar with its copy of the Book of Life open about three-quarters of the way through.  “Then why bother with spirituality at all?”

“Because.”  Lidon held the opinion that if he had to explain the unexplainable, then Piras would simply not understand.  As the Book said,
All men must come to their truths by the path they forge themselves.  No one can forge it for them
.

Piras shook his head.  “You haven’t tried to play since you were hurt.  Why now?”  He narrowed his eyes with sudden suspicion.  “Are you trying to impress someone?  An Imdiko?  Not another Dramok?”

Tranis’ young, handsome face flashed before Lidon’s mind’s eye.  He snorted that he would want to impress such a youngling, even one as fascinating as the first officer.  “Your possessiveness is unbecoming, Piras.  We are not clanned.”

The Dramok’s voice went cold.  “No, we’re not.  No matter how many times I ask, you continue to put me off.”

Lidon stood, suited up and ready for a hard-fought battle on the field.  He walked straight to Piras, grabbed him by the back of his head, and yanked him close for a brutal, demanding kiss.

Piras’ hands slammed against Lidon’s chest, trying to push him away.  Lidon persisted, shoving the captain up against the wall and grinding his groin against his as his tongue battled Piras’.  Piras continued to struggle, moaning a complaint into Lidon’s mouth even as his cocks swelled.  Lidon answered with a growl.

Go on and fight me, damn it.  Dominate.  Be a Dramok.

Lidon thought Piras might actually do it this time, especially since he didn’t want the Nobek playing kurble.  Once in awhile Piras became the same forceful, exciting male he was outside of the bedroom.  The man Lidon wanted him to be.

Not this time.  After a few moments of resistance, Piras stopped fighting.  He rubbed up against Lidon, his arms creeping around the Nobek’s neck.  His tongue twined about Lidon’s, inviting him to delve deeper.  The Nobek’s cocks filled, growing hard.

For a moment he seriously considered throwing Piras onto his sleeping mat and spending the shore leave fucking his brains out.  Just as Piras no doubt hoped.

Lidon pushed away, untangling the Dramok’s grip from his neck.  He sneered, “You can reward me after my team wins the game.”

Lidon gave Piras a moment to assert himself, to show his strength.  To force the Nobek to give him what his avid groin said he wanted.