Shalia's Diary Omnibus

by Tracy St. John

  I breathed a sigh of relief. Tep, Feru, and Ret, along with all the other people in that department who I’d gotten to know so well, were okay.

  Oses didn’t have all good news, unfortunately. “Shalia, it’s going to be some time yet before I can send a rescue crew to you. There are others in worse shape trapped in other parts of the ship. The pair of destroyers remaining are fighting off the attack as I speak. The transport will have to engage in fighting too if anyone is to survive until help arrives.”

  I swallowed. We’d lost a destroyer. Things were so bad that Oses was telling me we might not make it.

  “Understood. We’ll hang tough here. Kick their asses, Oses.”

  “We will, my Matara. Oses out.”

  I stood there thinking of my daughter on the shuttle. At least Anrel was okay for now. Okay and surrounded by people who loved her: Betra, Candy, Katrina, all the women of my group. They would watch out for her. I should be there with her too, but I was stuck in here. I winced against the flash of agony that knifed through my heart.

  “Nobek Oses is an amazing man. I don’t think I’ve ever met a better warrior. He’s not only strong, but wise too.”

  Resan stood next to me. He wasn’t looking at me, however. I don’t even think he was talking to me. He expressed his thoughts in an admiring tone.

  Then he added, “It’s a shame he’s so much older. A damned shame.”

  I scowled and put my com away. “What the hell does any of that matter? Oses is as badass as guys half his age. In fact, I’d put my money on him before any Nobek I’ve met.”

  Resan glanced at me. “He is impressive in every regard. At least you have the sense to see it.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Not that I’m an idiot, but anyone with half a lick of reason would realize Oses is at the top of the heap. You’re not exactly figuring out a deep, dark secret.”

  I snagged a water pouch out of the case. It would figure Resan would discount Oses’s abilities because of his age. The Dramok needed a brain infusion to not realize that with the weapons commander, age was merely a number. Years of experience had only enhanced whatever talents he’d started out with.

  In that musing voice, Resan said, “He is a powerful man. Every time I speak to him, I feel it.”

  Realization struck me with a thunderclap. Oh shit. Resan was attracted to Oses. I studied the Dramok’s features and saw plenty to worry about. His demeanor was contemplative, as if he turned something over in his head and found it interesting. Son of a fucking bitch.

  Trying to capitalize on what seemed to be Resan’s biggest hurdle, I said, “Well, I can understand the issue with his age. You’re what, less than half that? That’s a huge generation gap.” I had the idea Resan was close to Betra’s age, maybe a bit older.

  “You don’t seem to have any problems with it,” Resan observed. “Nor does your liaison. Imdiko Betra has a relationship with Oses, doesn’t he?”

  Oh, thank you prophets. Resan had served up on a silver platter a reason I could use to dissuade him from sniffing around Oses without having to downplay the Nobek’s amazing abilities.

  “Yeah, they’re together and quite devoted to each other. It’s complicated, though. Betra is strictly heterosexual.”

  That brought Resan up short. “He – he only likes women?”

  From his stunned expression, I knew Resan had not been aware of Betra’s orientation. “Sexually, yes. Absolutely no intercourse with men. He and Oses have an understanding that they can both live with. They care for each other in all other respects, but there’s no hanky-panky the way you’re probably used to. And Oses would take your head off if you tried to touch Betra inappropriately. Along with other body parts.”

  “Hmmph.” His disgruntled response warmed my heart. Resan’s plans of scoring with Oses were done.

  It did spur my curiosity. With my only options consisting of sitting and counting the seconds, I gave the Dramok a searching stare. “You haven’t clanned anyone yet. I guess I’m not the only person who has discovered your lack of charm.”

  He smirked and strutted to where he’d been sitting when I woke. “I have been chased by more Nobeks and Imdikos than are on this transport, girl. I have never lacked for companionship.”

  “Sure.” I affected bored disbelief. I hoped the less interest I showed, the more eager Resan would be to convince me. I need distraction. Listening to him yap was better than waiting for my pain meds to wear off.

  He puffed out his chest. “It’s true. I’ve lost count of how many would-be clanmates have courted my interest. I haven’t found the right ones yet.”

  “Out of all those supposed Nobeks you’ve met? And there are unclanned Imdikos running loose in Medical and the kitchen. You’re telling me none of them has met with your standards?” Actually, that wasn’t difficult to imagine. Any potential matches for Resan probably hated the nitpicky discipline he had when it came to keeping life perfectly tidy and on schedule. Plus, few people willingly date obvious assholes.

  “I plan on being with the fleet until I am too old to continue,” Resan informed me. “Most Imdikos who sign on do so only to get wanderlust out of their system. Then they move on to planet-based careers. Fleet credentials are impressive to employers on Kalquor.”

  “Ah, so this is a stepping stone for a number of them.” I hadn’t realized that.

  “The ones who stay on are typically those who wish to be with clanmates who are career fleet, similar to me. They trade original plans for clan. Such men are few and far between.”

  Betra was a rare Imdiko then. He had every intention of remaining in the empire’s space fleet for life.

  “You could still clan a Nobek,” I observed. But not Oses, ha-ha. Thank you, Betra.

  “Just because I’m surrounded by them doesn’t mean an acceptable man has shown up yet,” Resan said. “Most don’t appreciate some of my personal preferences in a clanmate. Preferences that are none of your business,” he warned me before I could ask.

  Such as being able to put up with the galaxy’s biggest shithead, was my guess. Those Nobeks were ahead of the game.

  Nevertheless, it made no sense to me that Resan hadn’t found a suitable protector by this stage. Unless he was super, super picky. I was driven to solve the mystery of this man. “Did you come from a high-ranking parent clan?”

  He snorted. “Me? Hardly. My parents had – have – no prestige.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Hold on. Kalquorian women are rare. All the rich clans do their best to attract them, right? How could your mother end up with a low-ranked clan?”

  “Because she’s a romantic. She fell in love with the poorest Dramok and Imdiko she could find and wouldn’t clan with anyone else.”

  I heard a ton of rancor in his tone. “Well, what’s wrong with true love? Money isn’t everything, you know.”

  He stared at me for a few moments without answering. Maybe the conversation was done. Finally, he drew a deep breath and spoke.

  “It’s not wrong to clan for love. I misspoke if it sounded as if I considered my mother to be a fool. She is not.”

  He fell silent again. I waited.

  Resan spoke once more after a long pause. “In fact, love is the best reason to clan ... provided you combine it with a little common sense.” Resan gave me a threatening look. “I will not have you think I belittle my mother’s choice in clans. Nor should you believe I have less than the utmost respect for her or my Dramok and Imdiko fathers. They might not have risen far in rank, but they are decent men.”

  “There is a father conspicuously absent from your nice list,” I remarked. Someone had Nobek daddy issues.

  Resan glared at nothing in particular. “We did not get along. I have no care for that man.”

  “Now we reach the heart of why you haven’t found a Nobek of your own.”

  Resan shook his head. “I connect with a great many of the warrior breed. I have to, in order to train them. It’s not easy to earn a Nobek’s respect.”

>   “So what’s the problem with your Nobek father?”

  “He is not my father.” Resan scowled. “He was never my father. I refute any claim that says so.”

  I shut my mouth. From the furious expression the Dramok wore, it wasn’t such a good conversation after all. I thought maybe we should drop the matter.

  Yet Resan was on a roll that had him spewing venom. “The others chose him only because he didn’t mind my Dramok father’s low rank. There was a great amount of pressure on my mother to join a more highly placed clan, but she loved my fathers. They were desperate to be together, so they rushed to gain the Nobek.”

  “There was a year’s wait to get through,” I pointed out. “Where the men had to prove clan stability.”

  “Yes. My grandmother – on my mother’s side – told me there were arguments fit to shake the skies during that time. It was a terrible year where my mother threatened to run off and never speak to her parents again. It was clear she would not clan with any but her lovers, and my grandparents gave up.”

  Resan’s story amazed me. “Surely your parent clan had to be compatible with their Nobek? Or at least I hope they do, since it’s a lifelong contract.”

  He looked grumpy. “They made it work. As you say, it’s a lifelong contract. Fortunately, his life has been over for several years.”

  Wow. No remorse could be found in that statement at all. “What was your problem with him?”

  Resan shook his head. “To start with, he was not intelligent, and he reveled in his stupidity. He possessed no compulsion to better himself. He’d piss in the corners of the house if not pointed to the facility.”

  I cocked a brow at the Dramok. He had to be exaggerating.

  Resan huffed at my disbelief. “His idea of a good time was sitting on his ass and getting drunk with his friends. Then he’d come home and yell at everyone. He never cleaned up after himself. My mother and Imdiko father were constantly running behind him, picking his shit up and putting it away.”

  “He sounds like a piece of work,” I had to admit.

  “He was belligerent and couldn’t stand anyone who worked to better themselves. I can’t tell you how many times he’d walk into my sleeping room and trash my belongings because I was acting ‘above myself’ as he put it.” Resan picked up a small piece of paneling that lay close by and flung it at the wall. “There was a particularly ugly argument when I was fourteen. I ran away to my grandparents’ and refused to go home. Fortunately, my grandmother insisted I stay with her.”

  “Your parents didn’t demand that you return home?”

  Resan’s anger drained. He looked glum. “My mother cried. My Imdiko father begged me to reconsider, and my Dramok father tried to find a reason to convince Grandmother and me to relent. He forced his Nobek to apologize. We talked about family counseling, but that stupid bastard would agree to whatever until the fuss died down. Then it would be the same crap all over again. I was sure of that, even if the authorities got involved in the matter and the counseling was court-ordered. He’d play along and make it look as if he’d reformed. I wasn’t willing to do it anymore.”

  “So in the end, everyone agreed to you staying with your mother’s parents.”

  Resan nodded. “My two fathers and mother would visit me there, or I’d stop by their place when I knew their Nobek wasn’t home. It worked out much better for me. I was able to study without worrying he’d poke fun at me or tear my work to pieces. I could excel without him screaming at me for trying to rise above my station.”

  It was a sad tale. I even felt sorry for Resan, though I refused to show it. He’d despise me more than ever for pitying him.

  “How did he die?”

  Resan barked a harsh laugh. “He got drunk while watching kurble championships with his friends. On his trip home, he went off course. He ended up flying his shuttle straight into the sea, the idiot.” The Dramok gave me an actual grin, filled with black triumph. “But not before I won my region’s top physical trainer award and refused to let him attend the ceremony. My victories were mine. He wasn’t able to attribute a damned bit of it to himself.”

  Whew. The man needed some closure, but with his Nobek father dead, he wasn’t going to receive it. Resan would have to heal his childhood wounds on his own – if at all. I doubted he was going to learn to forgive and forget.

  The glimpse into his background was informative, if little else. I admit if half of what he told me was true, I have to admire Resan for rising above his upbringing. He’d had it tough and managed to become highly esteemed in his field.

  I could understand Resan better now. I could even respect him a little. That didn’t mean I had to like him. Which was good, since neither of us wanted me to.

  August 28, estimated

  My best guess was that another day had passed when the ship started to shake again. It wasn’t as violent as the first time, but it was pretty bad.

  Our lights flickered in and out, strobing so that that the room’s movements seemed to happen in stop-motion. The heaps of debris slid, sending off dangerous avalanches of shattered lighting panels.

  “Stay low!” Resan yelled to me as we scrambled to the center of our cleared area, away from the shifting wreckage threatening us.

  I did as he said, my crawling more akin to slithering. with my belly to the floor. Damn this room and its lack of shelter to hide under.

  “More explosives?” I shouted. At this rate, half the transport would be blown apart.

  “It feels like fighting. Perhaps a sustained attack from another large vessel.”

  I could only hope the Pussy ‘Porter wasn’t having to take on the Earther battlecruiser. We were done for in that case.

  There was an awful booming sound over our heads. Resan and I looked up to see a huge crack had formed across the ceiling beneath the computer panels. Dust rained down on our upturned faces. A couple of computer interfaces dropped down, one crashing barely a foot from Resan’s head.

  My heart hammered, and I quaked even without the floor shuddering beneath me. Yet my tone was surprisingly bland. “Well, fuck.”

  What else was there to say?

  Resan and I watched as the crack overhead widened. It seemed pretty certain the ceiling was going to crash down on us. I readied myself for the worst.

  Then all went quiet again, but for the groaning of the ship. Hearing the creaking supports within the walls and ceiling reacting to the shock was about as hair-raising as the actual attack had been. I worried the room might cave in on us at any second. At least the lights steadied. The room no longer shuddered.

  After the chaos, I wanted to com Oses or Betra. I was desperate to check on them and Anrel. However, I’d received no word that normal communications had been restored. And Oses – if he was all right – was no doubt too busy to deal with my worrying. He had a vessel to protect.

  I tried to com Betra on the off-chance I would reach him. No such luck. For a wonder, Resan failed to deride me for what we both understood was a vain attempt. He focused on clearing the piles of shit that had fallen in our space and glaring at the cracked ceiling. It was as if he believed he could intimidate the fissure into fixing itself. If I were that ceiling, I’d have fallen just to spite him.

  Once I’d given up on hearing Betra’s voice, I also worked to move the fallen pieces. I noted that making the clearing as big as Resan had before might have saved us from being chopped to bits. I kept quiet about it though. We enlarged our space more than before, putting debris up against the walls.

  Then we were stuck once more with waiting for the next ration of food and pain medication. And rescue. Waiting, waiting, waiting. In a sense, it was worse than hanging on for dear life as the room rocked. Listening to the continued muffled noises of the room’s damaged structure straining to remain intact was nightmarish.

  I hurt like hell too. I was determined to hang on for as long as possible before giving in and taking my half-tab for the pain. If we were still under attack, who could say when w
e would be pulled out? If ever. Now there was a cheerful thought.

  Resan had located his handheld computer as he’d picked up debris. He turned it over in his hands, looking at it with grim interest. He’d turned it on once to verify it worked. It did, but same as the transmitter linking our coms to the transport, it couldn’t access a connection to send out any messages. Not only that, he lacked the means to recharge it once its power was depleted. He kept it off, conserving it for whatever aid it might render at some future time.

  Resan stopped playing with it and looked at me. “I have a request.”

  “Yeah?”

  “It would be wise to record final messages to my parent and grandparent clans in the event I don’t survive this. I ask that you ensure they receive them.”