Clan and Command

By Tracy St. John

Losing the one man he loved convinced Piras he would never have a chance at happiness. He is too different from the other members of the Dramok breed to attract a Nobek warrior and Imdiko nurturer to his clan. Unwilling to pretend to be someone he is not, he faces a lonely future.

Nobek destroyer captain Kila’s one night with Piras was a shocking revelation. Yet he can’t stop thinking of the temperamental Dramok admiral he has grown to respect. A dangerous mission in the midst of Kalquor’s civil war throws them together once more, and Kila must decide if Piras’s needs are an obstacle...or an incredible gift. Meanwhile, he has the added headache of an obstinate Imdiko chief engineer undermining his orders at every turn.

Lokmi’s dual breed designation of Imdiko and Dramok has caused him problems in work and personal relationships. While he coddles his ship’s engines, his need to control puts him at odds with commanding Dramoks and fierce Nobeks. Dealing with hothead Admiral Piras and overbearing Captain Kila is everything Lokmi hates...until he discovers his unique qualities fit their needs. Could it be that he isn’t fated to walk through life alone?

Three outsiders fight to save themselves, each other, and the Kalquorian Empire.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tracy St. John
• Release date: Dec 16, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370643837

Tracy St. John

Tracy St. John is the author of science fiction romance, including the bestselling Clans of Kalquor series. She lives in Georgia with her husband and son, fending off mosquitos and running from hurricanes. Before settling in to write fulltime, she worked in video production, in front of and behind the camera. She was often cast as the gun-toting bad gal, getting handcuffed in the end. She hopes that hot alien cops will intercept those videos and investigate. Soon.

Book preview

Clan Beginnings

CLAN AND COMMAND

A Clans of Kalquor Story

By

Tracy St. John

© copyright December 2016, Tracy St. John

Cover art by Erin Dameron-Hill, © copyright October 2016

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s

imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or

events is merely coincidence.

Smashwords Edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Prologue

The Kalquorian Empire is a civilization of great importance to the Galactic Council of Planets. The fierce but intelligent species has been at the forefront of technological, medical, and scientific breakthroughs for millennia. Their military might has never been in question. Even their ancient enemy, the opportunistic race of Tragooms, hesitates to attack a Kalquorian force half its size.

However, Kalquor’s survival is in jeopardy. The force that has threatened this mighty race is not one that wields weaponry. It cannot even be seen with the naked eye. It is a virus.

Centuries ago, this virus struck the home world of Kalquor. It wiped out a substantial number of its people, particularly the females. Symptoms included massive bleeding of the body’s major organs, along with those of the female reproductive tract. Damaging the X-chromosomes of the Kalquorians, the virus’ effects went beyond death. The majority of women not killed outright were rendered infertile. Daughters born to those who could bear children were not guaranteed the ability to do the same. The virus altered the very DNA of the entire race.

In an effort to keep their species from going extinct and prevent fighting amongst the men, family groups called clans were formed. Each clan was made up of one female known as the Matara (childbearer) and representatives of each of the three breeds of male: the Dramok (leader), Imdiko (caregiver), and Nobek (protector).

Clanning could not prevent the race from continuing to decline. In desperation, the Kalquorian Empire turned to another race, one biologically compatible to their own species: Earthers. Too much enmity existed between the two cultures, however, and a brutal war ensued. Hostilities decimated the Earther population and brought Kalquor closer than ever to devastation. After the war ended, however, peace brought a new beginning for everyone. The tide at last began to turn against the imminent extinction of the empire’s culture.

Yet there are Kalquorians committed to seeing their race die off pure, without the ‘contamination’ of Earther genes. After a violent revolt led by ‘the Basma’ Dramok Maf, the traitors’ rejection of Earthers and their hybrid children has turned into civil war. The Kalquorian Empire is being torn apart from within, with innocents dying every day.

Now a new threat has arrived. Old enemies join forces, determined to finish the Kalquorian Empire once and for all. With defeat looming ever nearer each day, the highest-ranking officers of Kalquor’s Fleet Command have come up with a desperate ploy to defeat the Basma. All they need are the right men to carry out what is almost certain to be a suicide mission; men willing to sacrifice not only themselves, but those unfortunate enough to be caught in the crossfire.

Men for whom honor and empire isn’t just a battle cry, but the only way they know how to live.

Chapter 1

Fleet Admiral Dramok Hobato never failed to impress Admiral Piras. Though the man was over two hundred years old, he stood as tall and strong as men half his age. His muscled body cut a fine figure in its sapphire blue uniform. The fleet admiral’s face, lined by many years of life and service, remained square-jawed with determination. His purple eyes could skewer an underling into absolute stillness, freezing junior officers like prey under the stare of a hunter. In complete disrespect to his advancing years, Hobato moved with grace and speed. Even his hair remained mostly black in the bright task lighting. Only a little iron gray dared to streak the long waves that reached to the middle of his back.

It was the vid displayed rather than his commanding officer commanding Piras’s attention at the moment, however. The footage playback hovered over Rear Admiral Tranis’s massive wooden desk. Hobato, Tranis, and Piras stared with grim concentration at the awful scene depicted on the hovering holograph.

The free-floating screen displayed a multitude of Earther battlecruisers in space. The awkward ships were a cancerous mass on the edge of the Kalquorian Empire. They’d gathered near the border intersecting with Joshadan and Galactic Council territories.

The vessels were leftovers of a horrendous war that had ended a few years before. To Piras, the sight of so many ‘cruisers was the recurrence of an awful nightmare.

He scowled at the swath of space depicted in the vid, at the vessels blocking the stars and a nearby reddish-brown planet. He knew that sector well, had patrolled it as a destroyer captain years ago. That it had fallen into the rebellion’s hands was bad enough. The unbelievable evidence of further treachery floated like a derisive taunt against those who remained loyal to the empire. Piras heard the dull sound of his teeth grinding and forced his jaw to relax.

Hobato’s tone contained no anger. It evinced no emotion at all. The spyship watching Batya Colony and the Basma’s concentration of ships there sent this two days ago.

Tranis sat back in the office hoverchair he occupied. His handsome, bearded face was filled by the despair Hobato refused to show. He rubbed his eyes. Earther battlecruisers. A lot of them. Hundreds. Maybe a thousand.

Piras managed not to roll his eyes. Trust Tranis to state the obvious.

He let go of the irritation that often came in the younger admiral’s presence. Instead, he forced himself to attend Hobato’s report. As usual, the fleet admiral cut to the chase.

We believe this is what remains of the ships still answering to Earth’s former leader, Browning Copeland.

So many.

Not compared to what they had at the start of our war against them.

Piras finally spoke, offering his own obvious observation. It’s a lot considering the firepower on those monstrosities.

Indeed. Hobato’s calm regard flickered to Piras for a moment. I don’t have to tell you what this means to our side of the current conflict.

Piras paced on the opposite side of Tranis’s desk. His feet made no sound on the padded flooring, as green as the ocean surrounding the island that housed Fleet Headquarters. Even inside, the sea-salt smell permeated the building, giving one thoughts of lounging on the sand…unless one was grounded by the endless catastrophic events that had descended on Kalquor as of late.

Tranis’s office made it hard to concentrate in any case. The walls were a functional gray, the furnishings utilitarian. Yet the personal mementos kept the atmosphere casual. The room was dotted with commendations and pictures.

Piras avoided looking at the still vids of the other man’s clan, though several were hung on the walls at eye level. They were hard to ignore, but he managed it…for the most part.

Keep your mind on the task. Out loud, he said, It means the renegade Earthers who didn’t surrender have joined Dramok Maf. The Basma now has enough of a space force to match our fleet. Perhaps overwhelm us.

Ugly as they were and of a lower technology than the streamlined Kalquorian destroyers, the Earther battlecruisers were nevertheless brutal machines. Possessing weapons capable of taking take out entire cities from space, they’d pushed Kalquor to near defeat during the earlier war. Earth had been routed in the end, but remnants of their fleet had gone into hiding rather than surrender.

They were back. Throwing what they had left on the side of the traitorous Basma, Dramok Maf by name, was bad news to the fleet. It meant Kalquor’s civil war had shifted in the enemy’s favor. The loyal among Kalquor’s fleet had been the sole advantage the empire had held over the Basma’s revolt. It was now gone.

Tranis found a bright spot in the horrid mess. The battlecruisers are a serious threat only if they’re properly manned. Reports say they’re run by skeleton crews. Most of the Earthers have abandoned the lost war.

Hobato reminded him, The crews could be supplemented by former soldiers from our ground forces, the Kalquorians who went to the revolt’s side. We believe that’s the reason behind this large convention of Earther ships at Batya.

Piras stared at the vid. A number of the traitors went there when the attack on Kalquor itself failed. He shrugged. The loss of Batya’s sector is regrettable, but it isn’t a primary concern at this time. I thought we were concentrating our efforts on reclaiming Lobam and Sib?

The moons had been the fleet’s chief worry thus far since war broke out. The Basma’s forces had claimed two of the five natural satellites orbiting Kalquor. The enemy’s proximity to the home planet made the revolt’s presence a real and immediate threat. Only fear for the large civilian populations trapped on the moons had kept ground forces and the fleet at bay. Small strategic attacks had yielded the empire no victories thus far.

Hobato nodded, his keen gaze halting Piras’s pacing. Of course Lobam and Sib remain our priority. But this matter of the Earther ships is a game changer. We need someone on the inside and soon. The question is, whom do we send?

Trained spies. Our very best. Maybe the captain of the ship that recorded the footage of the ‘cruisers?

No good. Active spies on the roster would be suspect. That was the one part of the fleet the Basma wanted no part of…and the group he’s done everything to keep the most up-to-date information on. He’s had some success. Hobato offered a grim smile as he passed along the unwelcome news.

Tranis looked at Piras, his usually grim expression lit by a smile too. A former spy who hasn’t been on that type of duty in a long time would be our best hope for infiltrating Maf’s inner circle.

Piras snorted. Which leaves you out. You were promoted straight from a spyship command only a few years ago.

He managed to keep the grudge out of his tone. Dramok Tranis had deserved his promotion to admiral. He excelled as the member of High Command who directed the fleet’s spyship group. He was smart, resourceful, brave, and everything an officer of the fleet should be. A hero, beyond a doubt.

He was also the man who’d taken the dream Piras had wanted most from life. It was an unforgivable slight.

Piras had let none of it affect their ability to work together, except for one notable incident several years earlier when the injury had been new. In this era of war, he couldn’t afford to be anything but professional. He didn’t have to like Tranis to work well at his side. He’d proven it over and over in the time they’d spent together in Fleet Command.

Hobato’s penetrating stare continued to skewer Piras. It isn’t merely a matter of Admiral Tranis having been out of the spyship game for barely five years. He also has an Earther Matara as part of his clan. That above all else disqualifies him.

As if Piras didn’t know. The still vid pictures hanging on the wall would have been a reminder, had he deigned to look at them.

It wasn’t that Piras cared about Matara Cassidy, the beautiful Earther Tranis’s clan had won at the end of the war against Earth. Her sweet face might spark a little envy in his heart, but it didn’t compare to the pain he felt when he looked at another face in the portraits.

It hadn’t been enough Tranis had managed to clan Cassidy or that he’d become admiral younger than any other man in the history of the fleet. No, he’d also clanned the man Piras had loved for sixteen years. The man he’d shared his bed and body with, thinking at any moment Nobek Lidon would finally say yes to his offer of lifelong companionship.

Was Piras wrong to feel jealousy toward a man who’d won it all? Perhaps, but he refused to add guilt to his list of hurtful emotions. Lidon had been his Nobek in all but vow, working at Piras’s side on board their destroyer through scores of campaigns and battles. Within months of Tranis becoming their ship’s first officer, Lidon had accepted the younger man’s offer to clan.

Piras let none of the pain show. It’s clear the Basma wouldn’t welcome Admiral Tranis to his side.

He might welcome you. Tranis’s voice was low and careful.

Piras started and looked the bearded man in the face for the first time since he’d arrived. Me?

Tranis shrugged his wide shoulders. Their black-trimmed blue uniforms were identical, they both had black hair and bark-brown skin, but there the resemblance ended. Tranis, a sturdy man with a broad masculine face, was bigger and had more bulk than Piras. The elder Dramok would have liked to think youth and good looks had been what lured Lidon, but he knew better. He knew exactly what Tranis possessed that Piras hadn’t…and never would.

Tranis’s surprising statement kept him from delving too deeply into the whys and wherefores of lost loves. The idea the leader of the revolt, Dramok Maf, might want Piras as a recruit claimed all his attention.

Tranis clarified his stunning statement. Your service as a spy was long ago and short-lived, though you went through the training. You have no clanmates despite your age. No prospective clanmates anyone is aware of. Most importantly, you have no Earther Matara. One might think you’re against the empire’s traditions since you don’t follow the norm.

Piras felt his face heat. Was Tranis suggesting he could turn against Kalquor? I have no Matara because I spent my career in the fleet and concentrated on my duty rather than chasing Nobeks and Imdikos. It wasn’t quite true, and Tranis knew it. He at least had the good breeding to not negate Piras’s claim. Then there was the war against Earth, and now—

Hobato held his hand up. Piras immediately silenced his rebuttal. He bowed his head in respect to the unspoken command.

Hobato’s voice held a trace of warmth as he said, Admiral Piras, your loyalty to the empire has never been in question. I believe it’s part of the reason Admiral Tranis and another knowledgeable party suggested you for this mission.

Piras gaped at Tranis. It was his former rival’s turn to flush. Tranis wasn’t a fan of Piras’s. Their shared dislike was one of two things they had in common.

Tranis managed a reluctant smile. Your devotion to Kalquor is the reason I recommended you, as well as the other considerations we’ve already mentioned.

I should hope I have some merit beyond having no clanmates, Piras said tightly. A status you made happen, damn you.

Tranis gave no indication he guessed Piras’s thoughts. I wasn’t part of your crew when you captained a spyship. Your record of that period, while short, was exemplary. I also remember the captain you were on the destroyer we both served aboard. You’re without doubt a man of the empire. We can trust you to get the job done.

It’s your opinion I can infiltrate the Basma’s operation?

Hobato stepped close to him. I’m counting on it. Maf’s desperate for someone in the admiralty since we’ve discovered the operative he had in our midst.

Piras’s blood froze. A traitor? In Fleet’s High Command? Who?

Tranis’s voice emerged as a growl. Rear Admiral Banrid. He was arrested moments after our meeting began and is now in custody.

Piras stared at him in disbelief. Banrid was an affable man, the kind of officer who won support from underlings through friendly authority rather than strict hard-assery. Piras’s polar opposite, if he were truthful. Banrid was the last person Piras would have suspected of turning traitor.

Then again, that was the point, wasn’t it?

Piras concentrated on what was important. What do you want from me? To feed the revolt bad information? Set them up somehow?

Hobato shook his head. The Basma wouldn’t fall for such small attempts. He’s too smart. You’ll have to prove your worth to him by providing real data he can use against us. Only for a little while. Only for as long as it takes you to be pulled in a position where you can do something about his fleet.

Tranis spoke up. We want you embedded deep in the revolt, Admiral Piras. Functioning as a real part of it, fighting against us, trying to destroy the empire. At the same time, you’ll be discovering their weaknesses and plans. From there, you’d disrupt their operations on our behalf.

Hobato scowled a hint of discomfort. First, we have to get you in.

Piras considered. We know the Basma has more spies in the fleet. It’s discovering who’s the enemy among us and winning their trust that’ll be the trick.

Hobato gave him a grim smile again. Which isn’t your mission. I want you to go straight to the source, if possible. I want you to gain personal access to Maf or Browning Copeland. Or both.

Piras blinked. They were coming at him too fast for him to order his thoughts and understand what was being asked. You mentioned you wanted someone in Maf’s inner circle. Not here at Fleet Headquarters.

You’re to board a destroyer full of double agents, ready to fight at the Basma’s side. Hobato nodded to Tranis.

The younger admiral stood and bowed, signaling the meeting was coming to an end. Piras was still unsure of what was happening, and he said so.

Tranis replied, The captain of the destroyer who’ll deliver you to Maf, should all go according to plan, will contact you today. He’ll supply the details.

I can’t hear it from you? Piras’s head was swimming.

Hobato shook his head. I prefer to remain in the dark about how you’ll carry out your mission to get in the Basma’s good graces. It’ll make it more believable if the particulars remain unknown to me. Tranis is to be kept out of the loop as well.

Tranis added, Admiral Hobato wanted you to understand this is coming from the top. That this assignment, while unthinkable to a man like yourself, is indeed valid.

Will I hear from my contact over com or in person? Piras hadn’t used his com scrambler in so long, he wasn’t sure it would work.

He’ll drop by your office. His visit shouldn’t seem out of place. He says the two of you are well acquainted.

Piras snorted. That would be half the fleet, seeing as how I was on board ships in some capacity for so long.

He says you’ll know it’s him right away. Tranis gave Piras a searching look, curiosity lighting his bearded face.

Hobato was all business. Talk to your contact about the mission. He’ll explain the whole scenario for you to consider. Let Tranis know your decision when you make it.

Will Admiral Tranis be my link in some form until I join Maf? Piras was relieved to hear himself sound as neutral as the fleet admiral.

You’ll speak to him only to confirm your participation. As far as the rest of it, you’re on your own. Make the decisions you must to gain Maf’s trust. Hobato hesitated, then put his hand on Piras’s shoulder. "The costs may be high, but do whatever it takes, Admiral Piras. Whatever it takes. We have to win this damned war, or it’ll be genocide."

Piras knew Hobato didn’t overstate the situation. Maf’s fanatical determination to rid the empire of Earther women and their half-Kalquorian children was what had started hostilities in the first place. He and his followers would stop at nothing to cleanse Kalquor of the ‘infestation.’

I suppose I’m on my own if any activities I commit on behalf of the mission are discovered?

We’ll proclaim complete disavowal of what we’ve discussed today. Tranis’ eyes darkened as he said it.

Hobato bowed to Piras. Good luck to you, Admiral Piras, no matter where your path leads. For honor and empire.

The subordinate admirals bowed to him and chorused, Sir. They stood at attention as Hobato left.

Tranis motioned to the humming sound blocker on his desk. Anything else?

No, Piras grunted. That was plenty.

Tranis switched off the machine keeping any bugging devices from relaying conversations to those who might attempt to listen in. If you’re going to your office, I’m heading in the same direction. Shall we walk together?

Piras nodded and preceded Tranis to the corridor. He was relieved to have finished the meeting without looking at the clan portraits on the dark gray wall.

Piras and Tranis walked side by side down the wide corridor. Aides and other officers passed by, muttering amongst themselves in hushed tones. The quiet conversations held excitement, and expressions were avid. Admiral Banrid’s treachery was no doubt the focus of everyone’s attention.

Only Piras and Tranis were silent as they navigated their course through the silvery-walled hall. They were in the wing containing the offices of the highest-ranked officers of Fleet Command, where they themselves helped direct Kalquor’s space arm of the military. Where up until now they’d enjoyed a slight advantage over the vessels the Basma had won to his side, roughly a third of the original fleet.

Now Maf had Earther battlecruisers, maybe a thousand of them. The thought curdled Piras’s guts.

Though Tranis walked alongside him, there was nothing Piras wished to say to his former first officer. The only conversation they might have had was top secret. Talking about personal things…such as how Lidon was doing in his new career as a Global Security officer…would have been more awkward than the silence that weighed between them.

Lidon. Just thinking the Nobek’s name hurt Piras’s stomach.

Fortunately, they neared the traitor Banrid’s office, giving him no need to fill the uneasy quiet. A contingent of Fleet Security filed in and out of the room. The scarred, brutal-looking Nobeks who safeguarded headquarters guided small hover carts from the office. The carts were heaped with the treacherous admiral’s personal and official belongings: commendations, computer, com, and various other items.

Piras and Tranis were stopped by one of the red-armored Nobeks to verify their right to be in High Command’s section. They paused without complaint as their credentials were verified. They were waved past the open doorway, which Piras couldn’t help but try to glance into. A concealment field, showing a pale sheet of nothingness, blocked his view of whatever evidence-gathering went on in the office.

Hard to believe. I never would have guessed it of Banrid, Piras muttered.

Shocking. Tranis shot Piras the haunted look he’d worn since the horrific end of the previous conflict, when Earth was destroyed by her own leaders rather than surrender to Kalquor. We’re tearing ourselves apart with this civil war. For what end? What’s happening to us?

It was a younger man’s question, the kind asked by only those who hadn’t seen what Tranis had. That the Dramok possessed the idealism to wonder such a thing made Piras feel as old as Hobato.

Piras heard a gruff voice in his head give the answer, a voice as familiar as it was heart wrenching. He repeated the wisdom Tranis’s spiritually-minded warrior clanmate would have said. The usual. The wish for power. Desiring what one doesn’t have. Fear.

Many captured traitors have claimed they were blackmailed into what they’ve done. That they were victims.

The Basma’s son testified along those lines. Maf’s web of deceit has been dragging in conspirators, both willing and not, for a long time. Perhaps it’ll come out Banrid was such a dupe.

Foolish men making foolish choices for Maf to capitalize on. We’re paying for it in blood. He’ll destroy us.

Piras’s tone was dry. Of course he will. Promoting extinction over interbreeding is his endgame.

Tranis chose to ignore the veiled slight. Now he has another tyrant at his side. Thanks to Browning Copeland being added to the fun, we get to fight two insane fanatics.

Life is marvelous, don’t you think? Next thing you know, we’ll have to fight Trag and Bi’is at the same time. Destiny has decided to fuck the empire and all we stand for. Piras rubbed a hand over his face. Sorry. I’m venting. This war has put me in a permanent bad mood.

What we discussed earlier isn’t helping. You’re the best man for it though, Admiral. I believe that.

Piras didn’t know what to say. It sounded like admiration, which Tranis would never offer him in a million years. Fortunately, they’d reached Piras’s office. He could escape the other man before the conversation went any further. With relief, he sketched the expected bow.

Tranis didn’t return the courtesy right away. Instead, the other Dramok gazed at him for a long beat. He finally said, Lidon’s doing well.

Piras’s breath stopped for a moment. When he could speak, he blurted, I didn’t ask.

I know. Tranis bowed and walked away, leaving Piras staring after him.

Chapter 2

Hobato and Tranis hadn’t designated a time when Piras’s spy contact might show up. Having no idea of when to expect his unknown visitor, he tried to settle in to get some work done.

His attempt to be productive was in vain. Now that he had time to contemplate the proffered mission, he couldn’t accomplish anything. Too many questions buzzed in his head. Which was stupid because he couldn’t hope to find answers on his own. He didn’t know enough. Yet as fruitless as obsessing over what the secret assignment might entail and who besides Tranis had put his name forward for it, he was consumed by the mystery. It made him tense. Being tense made him grouchy. Being grouchy made him short with everyone around him, and most subordinates already thought him a brutal hardass of a commanding officer.

Which he admitted he was. Piras didn’t suffer foolishness from others. He despised it in himself even more. Fretting over whatever was coming was absurd, and he hated himself for doing so.

He needed a distraction.

He had a diversion behind him; quite a large one, in fact. If he’d turned, Piras could have looked at the window vid behind his desk. It filled the entire wall and showed the spectacular view of the ocean surrounding Fleet Headquarters. The beauty never failed to amaze, and it often settled his mind to stare at the vast green sea and the endless blue sky stretching overhead. On a calm day with good weather, its serenity was welcome. In these days of war, Piras thought it a better escape than sleep or alcohol.

Having no clan, Piras had hung no portraits to liven up his space. The huge pane of scenery made up for the lack. At least that was what he told himself.

Today, however, he didn’t want to contemplate