To Clan and Conquer (Clan Beginnings)

by Tracy St. John

  Even in the very dim sleep-mode lighting of the room, Lidon could see the differences in his legs. The calves were nearly identical in shape, though the right was crisscrossed with scars. The muscles of the lower leg hadn’t been nearly as damaged as the thigh.

  Damaged? His right thigh had been demolished. Crushed and torn, it was a miracle any of it had been salvageable.

  Lidon looked at his leg with consternation and pride. A patchwork of scarred and lumpy flesh, it was a badge of honor many other Nobeks looked at with open envy and awe. Few men received such a horrific battle wound and were able to keep the limb to show off. In fact, the surgeons had begged him to let them replace the shattered leg with a robotic prosthetic. He’d flatly refused though it meant constant pain and the limp of a cripple.

  Pain is my friend, and I invite it in to make me stronger. With such thoughts burned into their brains, it was no wonder most Nobeks were both sadists and masochists.

  Lidon quickly dressed, putting on his red-trimmed black uniform formsuit, which had been tossed on the floor from the night before. He debated going to his quarters for a clean one then decided against it. He’d shower and change before his regular shift. For now, he needed to be engrossed in official business.

  Putting his knee-high boot on the afflicted leg was an exercise in torture, and he hissed despite efforts not to. Piras didn’t react, continuing to snore his way through the night.

  Lidon got to his feet, putting his weight on his left leg as he reached for his brace. The stiff metal contraption kept his weakened leg from collapsing under him. It fit over his boot and ran all the way up to his groin. The thing looked like an ancient torture device, which was why Lidon used it instead of one of the newer invisible-field braces. The brace elicited respect from other Nobeks. Unfortunately, it also made medics pester him to submit to more surgeries. Particularly a certain Imdiko he knew, when Lidon was able to corner the man and force him into a conversation.

  Lidon’s utility belt with its collection of tools and knives went on his waist, and he was ready to see how the destroyer’s nightshift was doing. He limped to the door and it hissed open, letting in a wedge of light. Piras sighed and rolled over. He didn’t wake. Leaving his lover slumbering, Lidon slipped soundlessly from the room.

  The Nobek limped down the corridor heading for the ship’s transport system. In the crew section at this time, it was an utterly blank stretch of hallway. It was only when he crossed from that part into the destroyer’s more functional middle section that he started to see others. Night shift personnel jerked their heads in quick nods to acknowledge him.

  Lidon’s route took him past the medical department. Knowing he was being foolish, but hopeful just the same, the Nobek slowed and peered in. No one was being treated in the examination portion of the unit. A few orderlies and techs were standing around talking. The door to the head doctor’s office near the department entrance stood open, but the room within was dark.

  Lidon sped up again as he passed Medical and got into the nearby transport, a tube-system conveyance that would take him anywhere within the ship. The small room he stood in was every bit as bland as the hallway.

  “Bridge.” The transport’s door closed and he felt the slightest sensation of motion beneath his feet. In less than thirty seconds the door opened again, and he was in the braincenter of the destroyer.

  The bridge during the ship’s normal sleeping hours was quiet, humming with efficiency. The room was a half-circle, with the first officer, captain, and weapons command’s podiums at the center of the flat end of the room. Next to weapons command was the security station with five Nobeks keeping tabs on everything from the destroyer’s defensive shielding to simple policing of the ship’s crew.

  Directly in front of those stations were the communications banks, both in-ship and fleet monitors, run by five crewmembers. Beyond them were navigation and piloting, handled by a complement of three.

  Along the most forward part of the curved section were the monitors, giant vids that kept the bridge informed of everything they needed to know to run the ship efficiently. Central was the constantly scrolling status-read, giving up-to-the second information on ship’s condition, position, and anything of note happening outside of it. A quick glance told Lidon they were on course for CP-108, a small moon with an acceptable atmosphere for life forms such as Kalquorians.

  As the Nobek limped out of the transport, the first officer looked at him from the captain’s station with surprise; surprise Lidon shared.

  Dramok Tranis, Piras’ second-in-command for only the past four months, was young for his rank. Very young. Thirty years Lidon’s junior, he nevertheless carried himself with maturity and assurance. Even now, caught off guard by Lidon’s sudden appearance, there was only a slight widening of eyes and steady stare to betray his concern.

  The first officer’s deep voice was smooth, betraying nothing of his feelings as he acknowledged Lidon. “Weapons Commander? You’re not on this shift’s rotation.”

  “No, First Officer, I’m not. Neither are you.” As the senior security officer for the entire destroyer, Lidon’s rank was only a step below that of the first officer. As Piras’ lover, he could get away with the borderline show of disrespect. It wasn’t something Lidon liked to indulge in. Sleeping with the captain shouldn’t mean special treatment. But with Tranis so new, the Nobek couldn’t help but test him.

  Tranis’ eyebrows rose over sharp blue-purple eyes. His slitted pupils widened just a hair. The corner of his mouth twitched. Damned if he didn’t look almost amused by Lidon’s slight challenge instead of affronted or scared, the reactions the Nobek would have expected from anyone else. Dramok Tranis was different, however. From the little Lidon had seen so far, the younger man seemed to know when to let things lie peacefully and when to bite back.

  Tranis went back to his readouts, which hovered over the captain’s computer station. He kept his body angled towards Lidon. The Nobek noted the younger man also kept his head tilted in such a way so he kept the weapons commander in his peripheral vision. It was almost a watchful Nobek pose, one that said Tranis wasn’t threatened but he wanted to keep an eye on the situation anyway.

  The first officer said, “I’m filling in for Ranem.”

  Lidon let his gaze wander just a bit, enjoying the sight of the strong, wide shoulders and chest of the Dramok. The formsuit uniforms Kalquorians wore let a man know exactly what he was getting when it came to other men. With the first officer, the promise was exceedingly nice. Tranis was more muscled than Piras. Shorter too, right about Lidon’s height. In the Nobek’s opinion, the view on the bridge had vastly improved since Tranis came on board.

  He made himself stop before his gaze went any lower. “Is Lieutenant Ranem sick?”

  “Injured. He insulted a fighter squad leader.” Tranis’ hint of a smile became the real thing. “Five broken bones and internal injuries. He’ll be back on duty tomorrow after the repairs have taken hold.”

  Lidon snorted and limped over to the weapons computer station, where a lieutenant commander stepped aside, bowing slightly to his superior. A curved floating platform like the one Tranis stood at, the black podium put everything Lidon needed to do his job well at his fingertips. Lidon glanced at the vids floating over it. The Nobek lieutenant, only slightly younger than Tranis, had brought up all the latest ship diagnostics, security communications, and flight course scans for Lidon’s immediate inspection. Lidon wouldn’t have to punch him for sloppy command transfer, and that was fine.

  One item caught his attention immediately, and he read it over with his brows drawn together. “That’s an interesting report from the border defense.”

  Tranis nodded. “I’ve been wondering what those anomalous energy readings coming from Joshadan space might be. They look like power signatures from ships, but the defense stations can’t lock down a source.”

  “If those are ships, they’re not answering communication attempts.” Lidon’s eyes narrowed. The bord
er defense on the perimeter between the Empire and Joshadan space was thought by many to be a joke, more a punishment for misbehaving Nobek soldiers than real duty. Joshadans were a peaceful lot and not interested in technology beyond what they absolutely needed. Kalquor provided the small world and its colonies with defense, which typically consisted of nothing more than beating back the occasional Tragoom raid. It was certainly not as exciting as manning the border with Bi’is territorial space. A destroyer sweep in this section of the Empire, such as what they were doing now, was considered akin to taking a vacation.

  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.