Alien Outcast (Clans of Kalquor Book 12)

by Tracy St. John

  He startled Nako by waving a hand at the silent Tragoom. “I’m worried about poor Ob. It’s too cramped in there for a Tragoom, even if he’s a runt. And the neighborhood has gone downhill in the last couple of hours. He’s had to listen to nonstop insults from that piece of garbage.”

  Poor Ob?

  Sesin’s snarl distracted Nako from Ulof’s shocking statement. Nako waited to see if the Nobek would be stupid enough to talk, as did the hovering Lopdod. However, Sesin took Nako’s order seriously and subsided.

  Nako turned his back on his former weapons commander and regarded the most pleasing member of their party. He couldn’t remember what they’d been talking about, but he knew what he wanted to discuss. “Matara, you look lovely. Truly.”

  Her fair skin blushed pink, and she ducked her gaze though her smile was pleased. “Sure, I do.”

  “Absolutely. Ulof?”

  “She’s beautiful.” The words popped out unguarded, and it was the Imdiko’s turn to flush. He scowled at Nako, as if his Dramok had tricked him into the compliment.

  “What about you, Tragoom? Is Matara Piper not pretty?”

  “I suppose, if that’s what you’re into.”

  The unexpected reply, translated by Ob’s collar, surprised Nako into laughter. Ulof and Piper joined in, and the Tragoom chuffed along.

  “You have a sense of humor. Maybe it’s that and not the pull of a lovely woman that has brought my Imdiko out of his kitchen.”

  Ulof gestured rudely at Nako, but he continued to chuckle. “Among other things. I have a few characteristics in common with the smelly bastard, what with him being a reject. We’ve been talking about growing up as disappointments to our families.”

  “I can’t speak to Ob’s experience, but your family could have done better by you,” Nako agreed. Well-to-do, with older sons who’d checked off all the boxes when it came to achieving what was expected, Ulof’s parent clan had screwed up royally when it came to raising their youngest. They’d initially refused to accept he had a learning disability, more worried that his challenges reflected poorly on them than any notions of getting him help. They’d treated him as an embarrassment rather than helping him to hone his many finer points. As a boy, Ulof had been left flailing in frustration and anger. He’d been offered few coping skills to navigate a life he didn’t fit neatly into.

  “If you were a disappointment to anyone, that is a reflection on them and not you,” Nako asserted. “As far as your clan is concerned, you are wanted. Never forget that.”

  Ulof had his sweet face on, the appealing visage that told Nako who he might have been if given half the chance in his childhood. It hurt deep down in the pit of the Dramok’s stomach to think of all the opportunities Ulof had been denied.

  Piper’s expression said she might feel the same. The sadness in her eyes belied the gentle way she looked at his Imdiko. And recognition—as if she too had felt the sting of family rejection. She carried that sense of hunger for something she’d despaired of finding, of a deep loneliness that had settled into her DNA.

  Ulof broke into his rumination. “Let Ob out, Nako. I’ll accept responsibility for him. If he acts up, you can flay my hide along with his.”

  “Ulof, that’s so nice of you.” Piper beamed at him and flung her arms around him. “Thank you for being wonderful to us.”

  Ulof half-scowled at the attention, but it was obvious he was pleased to have earned Piper’s gratitude. He stood stiffly, clearly at a loss as to how to respond. He wouldn’t meet Nako’s gaze.

  For his part, Nako wasn’t sure how to react. Ulof did not trust without cause, and he was a real son of a bitch when it came to convincing him anyone deserved a chance. That a Tragoom had earned such an opportunity in Ulof’s mind was not a matter to be brushed aside. Even if the creature was a Tragoom.

  Obviously, Nako couldn’t give Ob the run of the ship. The damned thing deserved a knife in its brain, not freedom. But with Piper gazing at him hopefully and Ulof—Ulof!—asking for the favor, he couldn’t outright dismiss it either.

  Playing for time, Nako eyed the prisoner. “What do you say, Tragoom? Do you deserve the trust these two have in you?”

  Sesin’s gasp rang through the block. Nako bit off a grin at the furious sound, hoping the fucker would speak. However, Sesin kept his mouth shut.

  Meanwhile, Ob regarded the captain with tiny, unfathomable eyes. “Glad for the offer, Captain Nako. But no. Best I remain in here.”

  Piper’s twangy voice rose in protest. “But why? Don’t you want out? That cell is so small.”

  “I am safest in here. Other Kalquorians will not like me. They make reasons to attack and kill me, maybe. They will not speak to me as Imdiko Ulof has, so they cannot understand.”

  Nako was relieved the Tragoom had given him an out. “That is true. Even if I order my crew not to harm you, the aggression between our people begs for trouble.”

  Piper wouldn’t give up. “At least open the containment. He can stay in the secure area but have more room to move around.”

  Nako glanced at Lopdod, wondering what the average crewmember thought about this strange conversation. He was amazed when the guard shrugged and grinned.

  “It’s not like it could smell any worse around here, Captain.”

  “You’re not offended at the idea of it moving about the brig?”

  “I have no personal problem with this Tragoom. I’ve listened to it talk with your Imdiko and the Matara. I’m fine with it stretching its legs as long as it behaves itself. Better it than the other prisoner.” He sneered at Sesin. Realizing he was indeed less respected than a Tragoom, the ex-weapons commander slumped in a corner, dejected confusion covering his face.

  “Fine.” Was Nako really agreeing to this? “If anyone besides my clan comes in, the Tragoom goes into his cell and you put the containment barrier up.” He added to Ob, “For your protection.”

  Ob nodded. When Nako released the containment, it stepped out just beyond the boundary of the collapsed field, where it could stand up straight and stretch its large body. Then the Tragoom stretched its arms wide with a slobbery, happy sound.

  Ulof chuckled and winked at Nako. Piper grinned and patted Ob’s arm. And the Tragoom stretched and stretched, as if it couldn’t possibly extend itself enough to work out all the kinks in its boulderlike body.

  Nako sighed. Things were indeed upside down when a Tragoom could roam somewhat freely on his raider, while a former Nobek officer stewed in a cell.

  Chapter 13

  The fact that Nako was obviously unsure about letting Ob out of containment made his gesture all the more significant to Piper. When Ulof excused himself a few minutes later to start cooking the crew’s midday meal and Nako followed him out, she took it as her cue to leave as well. She wanted to get him alone.

  “Enjoy your freedom, Ob. I have to speak to the captain. I’ll see you later.”

  He grunted, stopping to stretch again between trotting up and down the line of cells. Piper snickered at his “out of jail” workout. Lopdod watched the Tragoom carefully, but his expression was one of amusement, not threat. He bowed to Piper as she passed. Another tough guy with a hint of civility.

  Piper left the brig in time to see Nako disappearing around a curve in the corridor. She hurried after him. “Captain? Do you have a moment?”

  He came back, meeting her rather than waiting for her to catch up. His handsome face was friendly and interested—a far cry from the anger he’d displayed when arguing with his clanmates the night before. He looked like a different man entirely. “What can I do for you, Matara?”

  “You’ve already done it. Thank you so much for giving Ob some freedom. I promise, you won’t regret it.”

  “With the high recommendations of yourself and Ulof, how could I do otherwise? You are most welcome. But perhaps I can do something for you too?”

  His heated gaze made Piper’s throat close. She’d appreciate his attention, all right. Nako’s continued interest gave he
r thoughts beyond carnal, however. Thoughts she had no business entertaining.

  She’d gotten more pleasure from this man and Terig than she deserved. She lowered her eyes and shook her head.

  Nako cupped her chin with a touch too gentle from a man like him. “Is it because I was so frightening last night when I quarreled with my clanmates? Or is it that my way of having sex is not to your liking?”

  “No! You were fantastic!”

  Hearing her bald enthusiasm for their earlier tryst brought a wave of humiliation to Piper. Sweet prophets, she was ridiculous. But remembering Nako’s body on hers—in hers—had brought on a surge of desire that caused the words to erupt from her mouth.

  Nako chuckled. “Thank you. You know how to pet a man’s ego.”

  “Yeah, well, I suppose there’s no use in playing coy now. You gave me exactly what I liked.” She wanted to crawl into a corner and die of embarrassment.

  “I stand ready to serve once more, Matara.” His grin widened as laughter filled his voice. “Now that Terig is in place as my weapons commander and we have a few hours of nothing but space flight and reconnaissance, I have time to spare. My place or yours?”

  “You shouldn’t want me. I’m nothing but trouble.” She didn’t deserve the consideration.

  His humor dimmed. “You have a low opinion of yourself. I wonder why that is?”

  “Trust me when I say, you’ve got better things to waste your life on.” She pressed her lips together, refusing to talk more.

  Nako moved close, until Piper was forced to step back or be knocked down. He kept advancing, making her retreat until she flattened against the wall. His masculine, musky scent bombarded her senses. He stroked her, his calloused hands brushing over her cheeks, neck, arms, breasts. All the while he pinned her with his dangerous, domineering glare.

  Piper didn’t try to stop him. He was too big. Too powerful. And his touch, claiming what it would, felt too damned good. Her nipples hardened, becoming blatant points stabbing at her dress, points Nako seized between ruthless fingertips, pinching to set her up on her toes with a whimper.

  His rumbling voice trembled her insides. “I could force the answers I want out of you. Why will you stand up to me for a Tragoom, but cringe and go silent when you’re the one in my sights?” He pinched her nipples again, harder, and electricity sizzled straight to Piper’s clit. “I expect an answer, Matara.”

  She had plenty of reasons to not respond. She had even more to reply: the crushing weight of guilt that demanded she be exposed, the knowledge that Nako learning the truth would show him she was not worth his notice. And most of all, she had to answer because he’d ordered her to. Nako’s command could not be disobeyed.

  “I’m a murderer. I killed my younger brother. He was a child, only eight years old, but I killed him.”

  Nako blinked. “You took his life? With blaster or knife or—”

  “I might as well have done it with a weapon. I killed him because I’m a horrible, selfish bitch. And I can never make it up. I can never take it back.”

  The Dramok’s mouth moved, but Piper could no longer hear him. Instead, she heard the rush of breeze through pine trees, the creaking of a bicycle’s frame and its tires hissing on the pavement as she raced home on a summer’s late morning. Her laughter, trailing behind her as she reveled in her conquest, laughter that came easily because she didn’t yet know what she’d done.

  The misery of that long-ago day returned, as if she’d only just lived it. A tidal wave of sorrow swept over her, and she was back in Wilmington, North Carolina, on the sweltering day that finished her as a decent human being.

  * * * *

  Thirteen-year-old Piper’s secondhand bicycle shot from the asphalt road and rattled as thick sand attempted to drown the tires. She dug in with determination, forcing the pink bike her father had painted for her through the deep furrows of loose soil. It crept to the firmer dirt of the trailer park’s primary lane. The tires caught, and she sailed ahead of her best friend Beth, who was huffing as she pedaled grimly through the powdery drift.

  Piper’s small bible rattled in the basket attached to the handlebars, knocking against the tiny clutch that held her pencil, change purse, and the homemade lip gloss that was all the makeup a girl her age could get away with wearing. She’d applied the gloss the moment she’d walked out of church, ready to put vacation bible study behind her. Ready to dive into the serious business of ogling and flirting with cute boys. Especially Mark Bailey, who was two grades ahead of her.

  Beth drew level with Piper, her usually charming features sweating and ruddy from effort. “Want to come to my place? We can plan what to wear tomorrow.”

  “Sure. Let me check on Walton first. I have to make sure he’s not running around and destroying the universe.”

  Beth, an only child, smirked at Piper’s responsibilities to her younger brother. She kept pedaling beyond the well-maintained singlewide where Piper lived with her sibling and parents.

  Piper leaned her bike against the steps that led up to the postage-stamp deck outside the front door. Her father was handy with tools and her mother with the sewing machine, and they had fashioned their home to be far nicer than most of the trailers in the Creek Bend Mobile Home Park. Maybe not nice enough for Piper to invite her more affluent classmates over for a visit, but it wasn’t bad. Her parents knew a lot about turning “sow’s ears into silk purses”, whatever that meant.

  The obnoxious hum of the neighbor’s remote-controlled electric mower attracted Piper’s attention. Sure as shooting, scabby-kneed Josh was sitting morosely on his back steps. His dark forelock dripped sweat on his freckled nose as he guided the mower over his family’s patch of lawn.

  Piper blinked in surprise that Walton wasn’t keeping his best friend company, especially when a remote-controlled gadget was involved. Could it be possible that her brother was actually obeying the orders she’d left him with, that he wasn’t to leave their trailer until she returned?

  A twinge of unease crept in, but Piper forgot it as soon as it came. She was supposed to be babysitting Walton while their parents worked, not galivanting off with Beth to vacation bible study. But Mark Bailey had taken her to the side after church services last Sunday, to tell her he hoped he’d see her at the weeklong morning youth gatherings.

  Mark Bailey, who was almost old enough to drive his dad’s electric car. Mark Bailey, who played sports decently enough that there might be a scholarship in it for the future. Mark Bailey, the cutest boy in the high school Piper would be attending in the fall. Mark Bailey, who’d winked at her from the males’ side of the pews during study today. He was worth being grounded, if Walton screwed things up for her. But not before the week was out. Not when she had an excuse to see Mark for the next four days.

  Her thoughts filled with the teenage version of romance, Piper went into the fan-cooled trailer, her ponytail bouncing between her shoulder blades. “Hey Walton, I’m home.”

  When he didn’t answer, fresh anxiety reared its head. For heaven’s sake, the kid was eight and fully capable of staying out of trouble as long as he’d listened to Piper and stayed inside to play.

  “Walton Phillip Warren! You’d better be in this house! I’m not playing!” If he’d gone out and Piper couldn’t find him before her mom came home…

  Piper hurried through the living room with its comfortable couch and matching chair, past her father’s recliner where he sat to watch sports on the weekend, past the table and shelves of her pageant trophies and stoles (Miss Peewee Wilmington, Little Miss Wilmington, Miss Junior Hanover County, to name a few), and down the hall to her brother’s bedroom at the end.

  No Walton.

  Fear of getting caught for going out and anger at her renegade sibling—she’d paid him a dollar to stay put and keep his mouth shut, for heaven’s sake—left Piper shouting to the empty trailer. “You land me in trouble, boy, you’ll regret it.”

  Younger brothers were the worst. She loved the stupid kid, but
he could be such a pain. His baseball playing was starting to cut into her pageant finances, limiting Piper to only three entry fees a year nowadays and two gowns to wear between them. The least he could do was behave and stay indoors for a couple of hours while she went to bible study.

  Thinking how unfair it was that Walton was cutting into every important avenue of her life, Piper stormed outside. Sweaty Josh was still perched on his steps, running the mower over the same patch of sandspur-choked grass. He goggled at her as she hurdled over the chattering machine to reach him.

  “You seen Walton go somewhere?”

  Josh nodded to the stand of trees that stood beyond three other rows of trailers. “We was playin’ by the creek ‘til Mom made me come home and do chores. I ain’t seen him come back.”

  Piper groaned. Of course, he’d gone to the creek. Of course he did, because little brothers were boogery terrorists. Because little brothers sucked.

  She jogged to the creek beyond the trees, which made up one of the trailer park’s boundaries. Walton would be covered in mud. There was no getting around that. As she trotted, she calculated how much time she needed to erase the evidence. She’d have to toss his clothes in the wash, hang them somewhere that Mom wouldn’t look while they dried. He’d have to be bathed too, and there wasn’t ample hot water to do both his clothes and him at once.

  He’ll just have to take a cold bath and like it. Serves the stupid butt right. If he argues, I’ll threaten to take my dollar back.

  Piper found the well-worn path through the trees that led to the creek. It was noisy, swollen from the recent week of thunderstorms that had engorged most rivers and streams. The creek rushed with a low roar over the rocks closest to the shore, making them slippery, treacherous. Piper crept carefully to the south, the direction where the trees dipped their branches into the water, making a kind of natural bridge that Walton and Josh could never resist climbing on.