Toni and Clan Imon: dinner and dare we hope romance? Don't tell Stacy.
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Toni had been curious what Imon, Feru, and Wovir would think of Southern cooking, the specialty of Peaches and Dreams. It was owned by a couple who’d hailed from the southeast portion of Georgia on old Earth. She needn’t have worried. The trio wolfed down fried pork chops, catfish, collard greens, sweet potato casserole, baked macaroni and cheese, and cornbread as if they’d been starved for months.
“The fleet’s grocery bill must be astronomical,” she chuckled after swallowing a mouthful of the casserole, her favorite dish among the delicious offerings.
“Feeding Kalquorians is serious business,” Imon agreed. “Wovir alone could probably put away an entire ronka.”
“Perhaps we should re-evaluate our plans to leave the fleet. I’m not sure we can afford to support our stomachs as civilians,” Feru mused.
“You’re leaving the fleet?” Toni asked.
“Maybe. We’ve been tossing the idea around, but we haven’t actually decided.”
“I doubt we will as long as this concern about the Darks is unresolved.” Wovir paused his attack on his third chop. “It’s sounding like an all-hands-on-deck situation.”
Toni hated to have made a snap assumption of the Nobek based on his appearance, but she admitted to herself she had. He looked the part of a brute…handsome, but a brute, nonetheless. Listening to him speak, however, had informed her there was a vast intellect behind those deadly features. He showed every sign of having as much brainpower as his psychologist Imdiko and lieutenant commander navigator Dramok.
Imon shrugged. “There’s no hurry to move on.”
“What would you do after the fleet?” Toni asked. “Haven’t you been part of it for a long time?”
“Decades.” Feru’s answer reminded her of how slowly Kalquorians aged. He appeared to be in his thirties. Imon’s and Wovir’s features would have suited human men in their forties. Toni guessed they actually ranged between sixty and eighty. They weren’t even middle-aged for their species.
“I suppose you’d continue your psychology practice, Feru. What about you two? What would life following military service look like for you, Wovir?”
“I’m not too old to apply to join Kalquor’s Global Security force,” the Nobek answered offhandedly. “My service record as a member of my ship’s security would offer me an excellent chance of getting in.”
“You wouldn’t think a mere transport would find trouble, but we certainly have,” Imon declared. “Especially when we began shuttling Earthers from your original planet following our war. The first trip…wow.”
“Tragooms boarded the ship twice.” Wovir’s expression displayed a distant quiet pleasure, as if he recalled a particularly happy memory. “I fought in close quarters against them. Hand-to-hand at one point. That’s where this mark of honor came from.” He showed a jagged dark scar on the underside of his forearm. It ran from his wrist to his elbow. No doubt he’d been in danger of bleeding out from such a wound.
Toni had to restrain a chuckle trying to rise in the wake of her initial horror. Only a member of the warrior breed would be so delighted over near-death. “Impressive. I doubt you’d have trouble landing any job demanding battle skills.”
“Thank you.” He returned to his chops, radiating contentment.
Toni turned her gaze to Imon. “And you? What does a planet-bound career hold for you?”
The Dramok finished a sip of the beer he’d ordered. “I have a background in computer science and technology. I’d probably pursue programming.”
“So modest,” Feru snorted. “He owns patents on many of the latest upgrades to the fleet’s ships. Home and business A.I. interfaces? I doubt there’s a facility on Kalquor that doesn’t use tech Imon created.”
“It’s my hobby.”
“Some hobby,” Toni said. “Why are you slaving on a transport vehicle if you’re so talented?”
He grinned. “What better laboratory than a space vessel where I can try my ideas and get paid for goofing off? The fleet scores big whenever I come up with a new upgrade, so I’m allowed to experiment on portions of the transport’s system. It’s a win-win situation for both sides.”
“I’m surprised you aren’t running things.”
“They try to promote me routinely.”
“A million times,” Feru corrected, gazing at his clanmate proudly.
“I refuse since the duties of a first officer and above would interfere with the hours I devote to tinkering. It’s reaching the point where being a lieutenant commander is also interfering.”
“Is it why you’re thinking along the lines of leaving?”
“It plays a major part. Truth is, I’m bored. We all are. We joined the fleet to do something worthwhile and interesting.”
“And exciting. Things are picking up now, but once we hand the Darks their asses and send them packing to their own dimension? It’ll be a snooze fest again,” Wovir proclaimed.
“Kalquor might offer a bit of fun.” Imon leveled his charm at her. “The hope of attracting a female mate to our clan is a consideration. We’d probably have better luck if we could offer amenities beyond cramped ship’s quarters.”
She wagged a finger at him at the unsubtle hint, but curiosity prompted her to tease, “No one’s fallen hard enough for you to overlook that little detail, huh?”
“We came up on the lottery in the early days,” Feru said. “We had five opportunities to attract an Earther Matara. We used our chances to the utmost when it came to the women we met on their journey to Kalquor, and we thought we’d found the perfect lady…but we’d had no plans to leave the fleet at then. She wasn’t up for a life of touring military bases, so we lost our chance.”
“Even now, we’ve more or less given up on a female clanmate.” Imon’s smile didn’t falter, but there was a shadow of regret. “A clan ambivalent about its future isn’t a huge attraction.”
“Every time we’re ready to leave the fleet, something comes up,” Wovir added. “The allegations this hostile force the Darks has overcome the GC and has its sights set on the empire is such an emergency. We can’t turn from duty, even if it’s only to evacuate refugees and transport ground troops to battlegrounds.”
“So we’ll continue to enjoy the company of lovely Earthers such as yourself when possible.” Imon winked.
Toni arched a brow at him. “Don’t you dare tell me you have a girl in every port. I don’t want to hear I’m one of several.”
Feru laughed. “Hardly. Our last date was…ancestors, it might have been as long as a year ago.”
“No. It couldn’t be.” Imon’s brow furrowed as he calculated. “We took leave on Dantovon six months ago.”
“Paid Beonid companionship hardly counts as a real date,” Wovir polished off a glass of whiskey. He eyed Toni’s depleted wine glass and signaled the waiter for refills.
“I should hope not.” Toni was amused at herself for taking pleasure in being the attractive clan’s first date in ages.
The night wore on. The conversation flowed easily, and she realized she was putting off going home. Even after their dishes had been swept clear and they agreed they’d had their limit of drinks…Toni stopped at two glasses of wine and the men had quit early too…they continued to talk. The subjects ranged the gamut: their jobs, their backgrounds, even the shows and music they enjoyed. And still Toni delayed the moment she’d have to say goodbye.
At last, noticing the waiter eyeing them and the emptying tables as the restaurant prepared to close, Toni admitted what she had never thought she would. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but would you think less of me if I invited you to take me home for a nightcap? Maybe more?”
Grins bloomed around her. “We don’t view such invitations as Earthers do. You’re as honorable a woman whether we say goodbye now or in the morning,” Imon reminded her.
“I know, I know. Old habits die hard. I made it pretty clear early on I feel three men are too many. Still…” She wasn’t sure how to finish.
“Curiosity?”
“Partly. Mostly, I like you guys. Not enough to run off to the stars…or military sites,” she quickly added with a laugh. “But I like you. I’m having fun. I don’t want it to end until you have to leave.”
Imon glanced at his clanmates, then beamed his brilliant smile. “Yes, Toni. We’d love to go home with you.”
“If you change your mind at any time, just say so.” Feru chuckled. “Thanks to our work evacuating your first Earth, we understand how overwhelming an entire clan can be to humans.”
“All right then.” Toni was shocked to feel relief they’d agreed.
Who am I tonight? If Stacy learns of this, she’ll never let me hear the end of it.
* * * *
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All-out war has begun, with innocents caught in the
crossfire.
Former nun Cheryl Taupin and her husband Nobek Besral, in charge of the remaining orphans of Earth’s Armageddon, watch the terrible events unfolding in the Dark-overrun Galactic Council of Planets. Kalquorians in Galactic Council space are being rounded up to suffer an unknown fate and martial law is declared on many of the system’s worlds. A desperate plea to the Kalquorian Empire sends Admiral Piras and Captain Kila to the orphanage…but how can a lone spyship protect hundreds of children against the full might of the Galactic Council’s warships bent on destruction?
Charity Nath has been brought to Alpha Space Station to hide from those determined to exact vengeance against her father. Young and irrepressible, she’s determined to claim a measure of freedom from stifling restrictions placed on her. When her identity and location are revealed, her Kalquorian protectors must thwart those who’d harm her while contending with her stubborn refusal to be kept in check.
Imdiko Betra has done his best to put the past behind him. He knows letting go of the only woman he could ever love was the best course of action. But when he encounters Shalia Monroe again, his heart speaks louder than his conscience. Will unquenchable desire destroy the life she’s built, or will Betra’s clanmates Oses and Resan stop him from doing the unthinkable?
Against the backdrop of pandemic and plague, Kalquor and Earth II fight for their very survival against an enemy they’re only beginning to learn the strength of. As the All tightens its fearsome grip on the galaxy, humans and Kalquorians alike tremble on the verge of annihilation.
