Which he might do anyhow.
Less than five minutes later, Tukui stood in the waiting area outside Lidon’s office, wincing at the muffled sounds of pain coming from behind the closed door. He felt no sympathy for Zevs. All his pity was for himself, waiting his turn for a disciplinary beating.
He’d hoped to go first. Waiting and listening to what was to come made it worse. Fighting on board a spyship, a craft dedicated to the dangerous task of infiltrating enemy territory, was only a notch below the crime of insubordination. The crew had to be a cohesive unit, as any instant of faltering could prove deadly. The penalty for physical dispute among the vessel’s men was harsh, as Zevs’ growing yells attested.
At least the punishment took place in somewhat private circumstances. As much of a hardass as the weapons commander was, no one would see Tukui clinging to the pole while dancing under the strikes of Lidon’s stick. It would still be humiliating, however. In the long run, that embarrassment hurt more than the beating itself.
Not a lot more, though. The weapons commander was well-accomplished in physical discipline.
The disgrace—ancestors, he hated to confront it. Tukui shrunk inside, imagining the withering looks he’d get from Captain Tranis. And then there would be Osopa and Yorso to explain to—
Tukui groaned and tried to block out Zevs’ worsening cries.
It seemed ages later when the other Dramok staggered out, flushed and gasping for breath. He stumbled to the corridor without looking at Tukui.
“Navigator Tukui.” The deep, growling voice called him to his doom.
Tukui drew himself up straight. Lidon would add strikes for shrinking from his sentence. Since the young Dramok’s only goal was to yell less than Zevs, he needed every advantage in his favor.
He marched in and faced Lidon, blinking in the glare of the too-bright lighting. No doubt the excessive illumination was for his benefit, adding to the discomfort of the next few minutes. It seemed hot in the office too, but that could have been from nerves. He didn’t let his gaze stray to the pole in the corner, where he’d soon stand gripping the leather straps. Where he’d howl as blow after blow landed on his ass and thighs. Nor did he dare glance at the thin whipping stick on the weapons commander’s desk. It was impossible to ignore the stink of Zevs’ sweat, however. Whether it was from fear or pain made no difference. Tukui’s would join it soon.
He bowed to his superior officer and rose again, once more meeting the tough bastard’s gaze. The smirk the older man wore brought a tremble to his legs. It was the look of a man who enjoyed his job. Or was looking forward to releasing a little more pent-up frustration.
Lidon had plenty to be frustrated over. The rumors had been flying thick and fast in the corridor during Tukui’s interrupted walk from Medical to the bridge. Security was still searching the convent for the white-haired Cassidy Hamilton, the captured general’s granddaughter. And the rumors whispered in the corridors said the general wasn’t giving up the information Lidon wanted.
It meant Zevs had gotten the warmup. Tukui would be the main event. Lidon’s first statement bore that suspicion out.
“Zevs says you swung first.”
Ignoring the worsening tremor in his legs, Tukui answered in as steady a voice as he could manage. “That’s true, Weapons Commander.”
“I suppose you had reason?”
“None that would interest you, Weapons Commander.” The question had been a trap. Lidon despised excuses. He’d go harder with discipline if Tukui offered any.
Just get this over with, you terrifying son of a bitch.
“How is your Matara settling in?”
The question surprised him so greatly that his careful control dissipated in an instant. Tukui deflated, his shoulders sagging as he thought of Tina the night before. He could see her as clearly as if she stood before him. The dark circles under her eyes had damned near been inky, her fair skin white with exhaustion. Lying on the sleeping mat, offering herself with no sign of passion, only frightened resignation.
“Right.” Lidon eyed Tukui with quiet inspection, the aura of savagery gone. After a moment, he went to his desk, picked up the beating stick, and tossed it in a drawer.
Tukui stared. If the weapons commander wasn’t whipping him, what awful punishment did he have in mind instead?
“I’ve warned you and Zevs about your rivalry, which should have been over once Yorso joined your clan.” Lidon crossed scarred arms over his chest, his demeanor severe but no longer dangerous.
His silence indicated Tukui should explain after all. “Zevs is jealous. Probably more so now that I’ve clanned Tina. His comments on how I don’t deserve either her or Yorso got to me.”
“Was he correct? Are you undeserving of your Imdiko and Matara?”
The admission spilled out. “That’s what I’m afraid of. Especially her.”
Lidon’s brow lifted, but otherwise, his expression didn’t change. “Tell me this, Tukui. How would your Matara feel about seeing your ass covered in welts because you behaved recklessly? How would you feel about her witnessing that? Answer your own question: is this the clan leader she deserves?”
The beating would have been better. Far better than this reminder of how inadequate a Dramok he was. Tukui wished he could crawl under Lidon’s desk and hide. “No sir.”
There was a long silence as Lidon stared at him. Evaluating. Telling Tukui without speaking that he was an abysmal failure.
It felt an eternity had passed before the big warrior spoke again, his voice shockingly soft. “It’s for your Matara’s sake that I won’t send you to her in the condition you deserve. Not so soon, when her world has been turned upside down. This kindness isn’t for you, Tukui.”
The young Dramok’s jaw dropped. He wouldn’t be disciplined? “Thank you, Weapons Commander. It won’t happen again.”
Lidon’s eyes narrowed, and his more threatening nature reappeared. “This isn’t a game, Dramok. This is a young woman’s well-being you’re fucking with. You’ve accepted the responsibility of a Matara, an Earther Matara. I won’t remind you of that again.”
As relieved as he was to be keeping his ass intact, despair was the greater force. It escaped. “If I just knew how to help her—” Realizing his mistake, Tukui cut the words off and straightened. “I’m sorry, Weapons Commander. You’ll have no reason to bring me in here again.”
Lidon’s glare never wavered. “If there is a next time, you’ll not only pay for whatever new transgression brings you to me, but this one as well. You’ll sleep standing up for at least a month.”
“Yes, Commander. I understand.”
“Get out of my sight. You’re late for duty.”
Tukui headed for the door, feeling less of a man than when he’d come in. He’d been forced to confront his inadequacies, both by the weapons commander’s few statements and what he’d left unsaid.
I’m unworthy of Tina. I have to change that. But how?
“Navigator.”
Tukui stopped in the doorway and turned to face his superior officer again. “Sir?”
Lidon wore an expression devoid of emotion, as Osopa did when he was on duty or hiding his feelings. At that moment, Tukui was struck by how similar the two Nobeks looked.