Ospar has it all...except what he wants.
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Dramok Ospar sat among his children and clan in their home in Kalquor’s capital city. He noted how many would look at his current life and feel it was perfect.
It appeared so, on the surface. His mining operations elsewhere on the planet and the moons scattered throughout the system had made him obscenely wealthy. Being a key financier of Earth II’s birth had put a dent in his riches, but months after it had welcomed its first residents, careful investments elsewhere had recouped the outlay.
His clan was healthy and happy. Jol, his clan’s protector, was on the advisory board of a training center for Nobeks who’d failed to work well in team situations. It had locations all over the world and a couple of Kalquor’s moons. The ferally handsome warrior was also on the security board for the mining company Ospar owned. He traveled extensively, and though Jol wasn’t one to personify contentment, Ospar believed he was.
Their Imdiko Rivek was likewise at ease. A longtime priest at the Temple of Life, he taught and led Kalquorians and Earthers who’d embraced his beliefs. He also worked alongside leaders of other faiths for the betterment of the empire’s people. The tall, stunning priest radiated peace for those in his sphere.
When it came to his female clanmate, Ospar was certain he’d won fate’s lottery. Iris, a slender blond beauty, was everything a man could hope for in a lifemate. Smart, capable, a loving mother and Matara, she was indeed the center of the clan.
His children were also a delight. Little Mira was four and ruled her older brothers by means of trilling laughter and trusting hugs. At six years old, Umpev was already the perfect balance of strength, fearlessness, and compassion. He’d been among the first hybrid children too balanced between the three Kalquorian male breed characteristics to be classified as any in particular. He was what was referred to as a Merge, a new category of Kalquorian.
Then there was Thomas, the child of Clan Ospar’s heart, granted to them at the age of six when they’d clanned his mother. Now fourteen, he was the big brother his siblings worshipped and followed everywhere. A diagnosis of autism, which affected his social skills and a few additional areas of his life, was no hindrance to making his parent clan proud.
At that instant, Thomas was showing the younger children the vid game he’d concocted, in which they could play engineers of the ancient locomotives humans had once used as transportation on old Earth. In his game, they had to pull train cars and make deliveries to frontier towns while defeating a number of obstacles: avoiding bison and ronkas blocking the tracks; fighting off fierce feline zibgers, which sprang at the open locomotive where the engineer piloted; and battling robbers of various species who rode six-legged kestarshes and shot blasters. Jol, home after a business trip to the moon Lobam, laughed uproariously as Mira gleefully ran an alien Asicarian over with her locomotive.
“A bit gruesome for smaller children, isn’t it, my son?” Rivek quietly asked Thomas, blinking at the spew of Asicarian body parts over the landscape.
“I researched it. It’s accurate. This is what it would look like. But it isn’t real, so it’s okay.” Literal-minded Thomas was devout when it came to precision in his work, even when it came to animated game characters. He prompted his brother and sister as he often did, “You know this is pretend, right?”
“The bad guys lose!” Umpev shouted, his engineer blasting at the Bi’isil robber trying to send an immobilizing field over the train. “We’re the good guys, so we always win!”
“In a perfect universe,” Iris sighed, glancing up from her handheld. No doubt she was reading a book to relax after a day of teaching and keeping the children corralled. “Watch out for the Tragoom sneaking up on the other side of the train, Umpev. Good heavens, is it riding a ronka?”
“Tragooms are too heavy for kestarsh. They have to ride ronkas.” Thomas made notes on his handheld as he watched the children play, no doubt recording what improvements the game needed.
Ospar watched his family, wishing he felt as fortunate as he knew himself to be. He had it all…except the work that had fed his spirit.
Once upon a time, he’d been a major force in politics. He’d sat on the Royal Council. He’d been an ambassador to the Galactic Council. He’d been governor over the Earther-Kalquorian colony of Haven during a time of upheaval. He’d had a hand in bringing Earther women to the Kalquorian Empire, saving his world from certain extinction. He’d been among the first to thwart the traitor Dramok Maf prior to the bastard unleashing a devastating civil war upon the empire. Ospar had given his soul, and sometimes his blood, to keep his world strong.
The scandal over how the Earth women had been brought to the empire had torn him from his life’s work. Ospar experienced some guilt over the abductions of those who’d been forced to Kalquor against their wishes, but an overwhelming majority of the kidnapped had elected to stay when the Royal Council and Kalquor’s human empress had given them the chance to leave. It proved Ospar and his cohorts had been correct to bring those initial lifebringers to the empire, saving them from the original Earth’s totalitarian…and utterly insane…leaders.
He gazed at Iris. She’d shared stories of how Earth’s government and ruling church had executed women for their “sins” of adultery when they’d been victims of rape. Even a whisper of scandal was enough to sentence women to prison, if not death.
No, he’d been right to have them rescued, even against their will. Kalquorian clans had showered the Earthers with adoration and restored the hope they’d lost. The empire itself had been saved from extinction in the process.
It wasn’t his fault Earth’s leaders had destroyed their original planet rather than let Kalquor occupy it at the end of the war. The blame rested solely on Browning Copeland’s and his supporters’ shoulders. Ospar had mourned the deaths of billions, and yes, the abductions had led to the war and its horrific end…but he hadn’t set off the explosions.
“I’ve done my penance,” he’d told Royal Councilman Oiteil earlier that day during a clandestine com. “I’ve paid reparations. Why isn’t it enough?”
“We’ll soon convince the few councilmen we need to override dissenting votes from the Imperial Clan,” Oiteil had assured him. “A few more weeks. Surely not even a month until you’ll be cleared to run for office again.”
He’d said so a month prior. And a month before that. Meanwhile, Ospar sensed life passing him by. Investing in Earth II had given him some solace, but the planet’s birth had been accomplished. His money wasn’t needed there any longer.
He was in a rut. He needed to be back in the thick of public policymaking.
His gaze swung to Jol, who appeared utterly absorbed in the children’s game. Nonetheless, his Nobek sensed his attention. Cool purple eyes met his.
“Do you miss it?” Ospar asked.
His clanmate knew exactly what he was talking about. Jol understood better than anyone what drove Ospar. He’d been the Dramok’s bodyguard throughout his dangerous career. Ospar had made enemies easily, and Jol had kept them at bay. He’d had every appearance of enjoying the perils his current work didn’t offer.
Jol considered him for a few beats, as if weighing his words. Rivek watched them both, his equanimity showing no sign of being disturbed.
“I do,” the Nobek finally admitted. “Advisory boards are a far cry from fending off those you’ve angered or protecting a colony. However, I look at our children and I’m grateful they enjoy the peace we’ve had.”
Rivek nodded. “These past years have been difficult for you both. Neither of you were born to watch developments from the sidelines. You’ve had to endure the true test of your characters: to learn how to behave when all is right in the world. Not to indulge yourselves or grow complacent, but find new ways to render service to those you can help.”
“Agreed.” Though he said it more to move from the depressing
subject, Ospar did agree with his Imdiko. He’d attempted to offer a myriad of
benefits in the form of donations and volunteer work…but such assistance felt
empty compared to the machinations and deals he’d once navigated in the midst
of opponents set against him. Lacking such drama, life was no longer
fulfilling. He was no longer important in any true capacity.
* * * *
Blythe Nelson is certain Clan Deram is keeping something from her. The clan of spies finds it difficult to stay a step ahead of the wily reporter who’s winning their hearts. What they don’t know is Blythe has a secret of her own. New love can’t survive without trust, and neither side is ready when the truth comes out.
Dramok Ospar, determined to return to the political stage, strikes up a deal with Royal Councilman Oiteil. Unaware he’s dealing with a Dark entity controlling Oiteil, he finds himself fighting for his honor, his relationship with his clan…and his life.
The Kalquorian Empire, already struggling against the Darks infiltrating its highest offices, suffers a new blow when it’s revealed it’s keeping a prisoner from the war against the first Earth: Holy Leader Browning Copeland. The schism between Kalquor and its allies grows deeper, setting the empire against the rest of the galaxy.
As chaos descends on rioting Earther colonies, the Galactic Council of Planets, and Kalquor, a desperate group of humans and Kalquorians race to stop the force behind the turmoil: the Darks. Can they loosen the grip on their worlds the enemy seeks to tighten, or is all lost?
Releasing March 29. Pre-order ebook or buy print now:
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