Yorso perched on the sleeping mat that took up almost all but tight walking space between the walls of the clan’s quarters. He stared at Tukui’s paintings that hung on the gray wall before him, drumming his fingers on his knee. Impatience gnawed at him.
I should be on the moon. Surely a cultural liaison’s place in such a situation would be in the presence of that many Earthers?
Captain Tranis hadn’t agreed. “Stay near your computer library so you can quickly answer questions from myself and Dr. Degorsk. No need for you to come to the colony at this time.” They’d kept him busy, fielding nonstop questions about Earther beliefs and norms.
Norms? Yorso snorted at the idea when it came to Earth. The planet was a hodgepodge of traditions and languages and customs. The planet’s totalitarian government, as repressive as it was, hadn’t managed to mold its diverse people into a homogenous whole. That’s what made them fun to study.
All Yorso had learned of humans had been done from afar. That had been enough to set his teeth on edge while Tranis and Degorsk flooded his com with questions. He was a mere shuttle ride from studying the species up close, and he hadn’t been allowed to do so.
Now he was stuck waiting for Tukui to show up from his shift, to confirm or refute the rumor that three-man clans were being allowed to pick Mataras from the captives. The gossip had been rampant as he’d made his way from his small office to his quarters, and crewmembers had stopped him every few steps to ask for the truth. His assertion he’d heard no such information had been met with disappointment, smug smiles, and outright disbelief.
Even Dramok Zevs, who never failed to turn on the charm when he saw Yorso, had burst out with, “I thought you knew you could trust me with such information. Clanning has certainly changed you, Yorso,” before stalking off.
Captain Tranis had hinted at no such thing. No surprise there. That information would have been given to Yorso’s clan leader, Tukui. Osopa also might be unaware if the rumors were true. Yorso was forced to wait and stew.
Fortunately, Tukui was no more than ten minutes later than usual. His handsome features, exuberant by nature, were avid with excitement. His wide-spaced eyes, purple like all Kalquorians, were shining as he walked into their quarters. While his smile came easily, he didn’t usually show his teeth the way he did at that moment.
Yorso jumped to his feet. “Is it true we’re getting a Matara?”
“Yes!” Tukui grabbed him by the shoulders and would have no doubt swung him around if there’d been room to do so.
The next few moments were filled with shouting and hugging in celebration. They could have been small children given a pet kestarsh. Osopa wouldn’t have given into such nonsense, but Osopa wasn’t there.
Why shouldn’t there be excitement at such incredible fortune? Even if it did make them appear childish?
They calmed enough for Tukui to pull out his personal com. “Our Nobek has been stingy with information. He barely dropped me two lines today, and only to say he had to concentrate on his job.”
“Considering his position and the fact he works directly with that hardass Commander Lidon, you can’t blame him.”
“I know, I know. It’s frustrating is all.”
“Patience, my dear Dramok,” Yorso reminded him, as if he hadn’t been on edge only minutes ago.
“He should be off guard duty pretty soon. Com, contact Osopa.”
“Osopa here.”
“How long until you’re available?” Tukui wasn’t yelling, but it was close.
“Hello to you too, my Dramok. My relief is here. I’m in the middle of updating everyone on how to handle things in my absence.” Osopa might have been discussing weather conditions, he was so controlled. Typical Osopa, to shield his feelings at such a momentous occasion.
“We’re coming down to the moon to have a look at potential lucky ladies.”
If Osopa had been composed before, he was downright cold now. “Tukui, that’s not the appropriate attitude. The women aren’t happy to see us. We’re invaders, after all.”
Tukui’s smile dimmed only a hair. “Well, no, of course they’re upset. We’ll be sensitive.”
Yorso crowded him to add, “Obviously. Stop being gloomy, my Nobek.”
His tone forbidding, Osopa said, “If you’d spent the last hours dealing with weeping females and screaming children, you wouldn’t be in the best mood either.”
The vision of such cooled Yorso’s high spirits in an instant. Concern replaced elation. “Oh. But now that they know we won’t hurt them, they’re doing better, right?”
“They’re terrified. All the pretty words in the universe aren’t going to change that.”
Yorso gripped Tukui’s arm. “Maybe we should wait to meet them until they understand Kalquorians aren’t so bad?”
Tukui had deflated as well. However, his optimism had always been a stubborn characteristic, and it hadn’t fled despite Osopa’s warning. “They’re surrounded by Nobeks, my Imdiko. Our warriors aren’t the most comforting presence a scared female could ask for. No offense, Osopa.”
“None taken,” the clan protector sighed. “We’re at a loss as to how to soothe their fear of us. That’s without a doubt the realm of Imdikos. Especially given what they expect we’ll do to them.”
Yorso considered his research as his disquiet grew. “They’ve been told some pretty awful things about Kalquorians. Maybe an Earther Matara isn’t such a good fit for us.”
“If not an Earther, then who?” Tukui asked. “Do you think the handful of our own women who are left would look twice at us? By the time we’ve achieved sufficient rank, they’ll all be clanned anyway.”
He had a point. “Who knows how many Earthers will opt for clanning with us once the war is over? The Royal Council has already agreed there’ll be no more forced unions, even if we win.”
Though they had been his words, Yorso’s gut clenched as forced unions bounced around his brain. He didn’t like the connotation at all. But many of the Earthers on Kalquor had come willingly. Surely some of those on Europa would see the worth of three men who would conform to a Matara’s every need?
“It’s not the best situation, but we can’t turn down this chance for a female clanmate. It may be the only opportunity we get.” The way Tukui doggedly argued for it made Yorso think he was trying to convince himself as much as them.
Osopa’s tone had a note of defeat. “I can’t dispute that.”
“That settles it. If we find a promising candidate, we can show her what a fantastic future she’s in for.”
Tukui was recovering his confidence, which fed Yorso’s. They were a good clan despite their youth and lack of rank. They had plenty to offer a potential lifemate, their future bright.
Once a person got behind Osopa’s stoic exterior, it was easy to realize he was a caring man as well as an excellent protector. He couldn’t help but be a success; his rise within the fleet ranks was on par with that of Captain Tranis. Tukui could be brash, but he was also a fun, easygoing clan leader. As for Yorso himself, he was the quintessential Imdiko—willing to fawn over a woman to her heart’s content.