Ilid blinked at him. “A privilege?”

  Degorsk detected the first of what was no doubt numerous issues following the hell Ilid had been through. “I’ve reviewed the story of your bravery in escaping and warning the empire about the Darks. You faced incredible odds. May I?” He motioned to the part of the bench left unoccupied.

  “Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry.” Belatedly, Ilid stood and bowed. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

  “The pleasure is mine. Please, you don’t have to stand or call me sir. I’m an on-call consultant, no longer an official part of the fleet.” Degorsk settled next to him.

  “Did you serve on a spyship? Or just here, putting broken men together again?”

  Broken men. Issue number two. “I was part of a couple of destroyer crews as a medical doctor. I ended my career on a spyship, so I’ve had some experience similar to yours where such assignments are concerned.”

  “Did you know a Dr. Umen?”

  Ilid named the doctor from his former duty vessel. According to the report the young man had submitted, Umen been overcome by a Dark rider. Under its influence, he’d performed horrific experiments on Ilid and others.

  “I wasn’t acquainted with him. I hope the fact I once held the same rank won’t disturb you.”

  Ilid gazed at him. The Dramok’s face was young and vulnerable. Degorsk wondered if he’d looked so childlike and lost before his shipmates had been attacked or if his experiences had sapped the strength from him.

  “You don’t look like him. You don’t talk like him either. I guess I’ll be okay around you.”

  “I hope so. I want to help you.”

  “You mean you’re ordered to help me.”

  Degorsk gazed directly into the young man’s eyes, which kept skittering over the grounds, as if looking for something. “As I said, I’m no longer a formal member of the fleet. To be honest, I’m no fan of it. It nearly broke me, a long time ago. I don’t take orders from the chain of command. I’m here for you, not them.”

  It was true. Tranis might have been an admiral, but Degorsk often contracted his services to the fleet at his Dramok’s request. He was recognized by many in the field for helping fleet personnel traumatized in the field of duty return to normal lives.

  “If I told you I want to resign as soon as possible, you wouldn’t try to talk me out of it?”

  “Ilid, I wouldn’t send you out on another ship if they paid me the empire’s entire fortune after what you’ve been through.” Degorsk offered a caring smile…because he did care for those who ended up needing him, at times to his own detriment. “The fleet agreed to release you as soon as their medical staff maps your brain in hopes of learning how you see the aliens who did this to you. I’ll personally give hell to anyone who tries to extend your service beyond the month it’ll take.”

  “Getting out is all I want,” Ilid breathed, his shoulders releasing tension. “And the nightmares to stop. I’m so tired of being afraid.”

  “Let’s get started then.”

  * * * *

  After his session with Ilid, Degorsk flew to the island headquarters of the fleet. He arrived at Tranis’ office. After an affectionate greeting, he settled in the seat across the desk from his Dramok.

  “Ilid doesn’t hallucinate the Darks after the fact, thank the ancestors. If he did, I’d be a lot more pessimistic about his recovery. He does jump at shadows though…as we saw on the recorded footage, the aliens look similar, except for the tentacles.” Degorsk shuddered. Ilid’s description of the Darks scurrying around his spyship creeped him out. “He’s constantly checking his peripheral vision to make sure no one in his vicinity is being ridden.”

  “Poor kid,” Tranis sighed. “You can help him, though?”

  “As long as the creatures don’t show up here. He’s terrified for good reason, if what you’ve told me is true.”

  “I wish Admiral Hobato would take it as seriously.”

  “Have him sit down and talk to Ilid. That’ll convince him, get him over this stubborn streak he’s developed.” Degorsk scowled, irritated at fleet bureaucracy. He liked Hobato on a personal level, but as a representative of the fleet, he was no fan.

  “If I decide to bring Cassidy in as a scientific consultant, she should see the recordings of your sessions with Ilid,” Tranis said. “Do you think he’d agree to it?”

  “If it’ll keep the Darks out of the empire, he’ll probably be fine. I’ll ask.” Degorsk gave his clanmate a level stare. “I might not be okay when it comes to involving her, however. She doesn’t need the stress.”

  “I don’t have to remind a doctor what the studies say about human women and pregnancy. She isn’t as fragile as your fears tell you.” Tranis’ gaze was gentle. “Besides, she wouldn’t find researching alien beings from another dimension upsetting. She lives for that shit.”

  “She’d find Ilid’s condition distressing. I found it nerve-wracking, and I’m trained for traumatic encounters.” Degorsk gave vent to some of the stress. “We’re so fucked if those things make it here. Totally fucked.”

  “Cassidy could help us avoid it. You’re a lot of the reason she’s as tough as she is.”

  Degorsk waved him off. “There’s tough, then there’s facing impending doom. Hey, when did you become the optimist of this clan?”

  Tranis laughed. “When you started freaking out over fatherhood, apparently. You’ve been a wreck since Cassidy decided to continue the pregnancy.”

  Degorsk opened his mouth to deny his assessment, but there was no sense in it. Tranis was right. “Great, now you’re a therapist to boot. I guess I’ll retire and run off to live in a cave.”

  “You might as well stick around. We’d follow you wherever you go.”

  “No escape, huh?” He grinned, a hint of his happier nature peeking through. “It’s nice to be indispensable.”

  “You should have figured out you are years ago, my Imdiko.”

  * * * *

  Alpha Space Station

  Kila stepped in his quarters and immediately felt a weight lift at the sight of Hope and Piras standing in the greeting room, safe and sound.

  Because he was a Nobek and a warrior, he hung back as Hope flew into their demonstrative Imdiko’s arms. Lokmi’s kisses covered Hope’s face, and she returned the favor. The weeks apart had been as difficult on their Matara as it had been on them. Kila wouldn’t have allowed her to be on his spyship during the trip to Bi’is for anything, but he’d mourned their separation just the same.

  As Imdiko and Matara carried on, Kila’s gaze met Piras’. They stepped close and hugged.

  “I’m glad you’re all right,” his clan leader sighed.

  “I’m doubly so over you and Hope. I heard there have been protests on Kalquor since you’ve been outed as commanding the station’s defenses.” Kila stepped back and looked at the smaller man.

  It was easy to worry about Piras, almost as much as he did for Hope. It barely mattered the Dramok had been known as the “Terror of the Fleet” even before he became so hated. The wily bastard had cheated death more than his fair share because he was that damned smart and that damned resilient.

  Kila didn’t care how tough he knew Piras to be. He was still Kila’s Dramok, and therefore, his responsibility to keep safe.

  Piras had a delicate build compared to many Kalquorians. His elegant features, except for an overlarge jaw, gave him a fragile aspect when he wasn’t shouting at his underlings in a towering rage. Kila’s gut churned to think of those who wanted Piras’ blood.

  His Dramok’s dismissive wave failed to ease his worries. “No one here has gotten in my face yet. I received a couple of threatening coms, but they were traced and the callers hauled in for questioning. One was on a colony at the other end of the empire, hardly an immediate danger.”

  “It’s those who’d sneak up quietly I worry about.”

  Hope and Lokmi had finally finished their reunion. The dark-haired woman who was the heart of the clan imperiously shoved between Kila and Piras to greet her Nobek.

  “Ease up, big guy. Piras was well protected while you were gone, though it wasn’t needed. No one tried to approach him.”

  Her lips were soft on Kila’s, waking certain parts that had missed her special warmth. For a second, he considered delaying his concerns in favor of picking her up and taking her to the sleeping room. Then again, laying her on the rug there in the greeting room would be just as good. Or bending her over the back of the lounger…

  He regained control over himself as the kiss ended. “Who kept an eye on our fearless Dramok? I’d like a word, in case it’s necessary to tap him again.”

  “It won’t be. He’s gone, and he isn’t returning.” Piras turned from Lokmi, whom he’d greeted in turn. “We’ve brought in a few more spies to operate locally here. A new bodyguard took over a couple of days ago when Lidon left.”

  Kila froze. Lidon? Piras’ ex, the Nobek he’d courted to be his clanmate for fifteen years before Admiral Tranis showed up? The Nobek Piras had still been stuck on when Kila had come on the scene?

  “What the fuck was he doing, guarding you? He doesn’t live here…he’s all the fuck away on Kalquor…why wasn’t I told you brought him in?” Kila’s shout made Hope cover her ears, but he couldn’t rein it in.

  A deadly calm settled over Piras, and a small part of Kila’s mind registered how it was usually Piras who yelled and Kila who countered problems with quiet calculation. Not this time. He was shaking and searching for something to throw and break.

  “I had nothing to do as far as bringing him in, my Nobek. Tranis sent him. We were shorthanded here where spies were concerned—”

  “Tranis couldn’t send another bodyguard? Yes, he sure as shit could have. It didn’t have to be Lidon.”

  “I agree, but he was already on his way when I found out. I couldn’t have—”

  “Yes, you could have. You should have sent him packing the second you saw him. You’re equal rank to Tranis.”

  “The order was countersigned by Hobato. I wasn’t given a choice.”

  “How convenient,” Kila seethed.

  Piras’ temper was at last kindled. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he yelled, taking a step toward Kila, his fists clenched.

  Lokmi grabbed him. “Enough, both of you. Settle down.”

  Though his designation was Imdiko, Lokmi had a generous helping of Dramok as well. It came through in his voice, the natural command that made everyone, including Piras, pause. For an instant, silence held.

  It didn’t quiet the storm in Kila’s head. Lidon had been Piras’ bodyguard in his absence, and Piras hadn’t told him. He’d had ample opportunity to do so during their frequent coms, but he’d kept quiet. For weeks.

  Kila turned on his heel and walked out of the home he’d been so desperate to return to.

  Chapter Four

  Earth II

  “…and I think it’s safe to say, Earthers are back, baby!”

  Kuran’s ears rang as the crowd roared its approval, interrupting Stacy’s speech yet again. The rally to open her campaign to switch from Earth’s appointed leader to its first elected governor had kicked off, and it was crowded by supporters.

  She and the other leaders of Earth II, chosen by the Galactic Council of Planets, had gotten the planet off to a great start. They’d had the help of many other species belonging to the council, but Stacy had done everything possible to make sure humans had picked up the torch when possible. Her approval ratings were good, but they didn’t guarantee she’d continue to shepherd Earth II through its infancy. The months of campaigning would be long and no doubt difficult as other candidates threw their hats in the ring.

  Win or lose, it was all the same to Kuran. His greatest goal was to keep Stacy safe as she navigated the election. It was the only win he truly cared about, though he supported her hope to continue as Earth’s leader for the next two years. Or eight, if she continued to win elections until she was no longer eligible to serve.

  For once, Kuran was unphased in public as he conducted operations. Or, more accurately, as he supervised someone else conducting operations. It wasn’t the case for the other Kalquorians who made up his spy contingent. A dozen of his phased operatives wandered the crowd. They watched for trouble as reinforcements for the human element of the event’s security.

  Kuran glanced at Michael Adams, the man who was to take over his official position as head of Earth security…if he proved up to the task.

  When the two men had first met, Kuran hadn’t been impressed. Despite his notable credentials, Adams appeared young to the seasoned Nobek to have the experience he claimed. Dark-haired, handsome, and possessing an easy smile, the would-be heir’s presence seemed far too benign for the job’s demands.

  He became a different sort of man on the job, however. Drawn brows drove a crease above Adams’ slightly crooked nose. His blue eyes were intense as he surveyed the scene from his post on an elevated platform at the side of the stage where Stacy spoke. The friendly smile was nowhere in evidence, replaced by a frown fierce enough to elicit Kuran’s appreciation. Wearing a dark outfit over body armor, a blaster holstered at his hips, muttering commands into his headset, Adams boasted a distinctive don’t-fuck-with-me presence. He was imposing.

  For a human.

  Kuran noted a cluster of Earthers packed tight at one side of the stage. No doubt his men were there, keeping an eye on them, but it would be wise to point the grouping out to Adams. He did so.

  Adams offered no second-guessing or resistance to Kuran’s direction. “Charlie Group, watch the sardines on the stage edge in your section. They don’t look like trouble, but they’re good cover for someone who’d want to be. Alpha, cover any open spots Charlie leaves behind while they shift location.” Adams noticed another cluster on his own. “Delta, watch the rear corner. Make sure you have a clear view on everyone.”

  “Nice pickup on Delta’s section.” Kuran had missed it.

  “Next time, I’ll assign another set of eyes up high from the opposite side of the stage. Two guys to a post. If the governor continues to draw crowds this size, we’ll need it. Since more Earthers are arriving every day, we may have to increase our presence.”

  “Agreed.”

  The audience cheered as Stacy finished her speech. Adams was barking orders in an instant. “Ready for the greet, you know your positions, in place now.”

  Kuran watched his beloved as she headed for the steps that would allow her to descend from the stage. The plan was for her to go to the barricade holding the throng back, shake hands, and speak to her would-be voters. No less than half a dozen guards would be at her side, accompanied by two phased Kalquorian sentries. Nonetheless, tension sang through him and Adams as they watched her.

  At last, it was over, Stacy smiling and waving as she was escorted to the shuttle waiting behind the stage’s vid backdrop. On it was depicted Earth II’s emblem of the planet wrapped in a banner emblazoned with the motto Vita Nova, Spes Nova: New Life, New Hope.

  And a new head of security, ready to take up the challenge Kuran was to leave behind in a few short weeks. Kuran was beginning to feel pretty confident about his replacement…especially since the Nobek would be sticking close to Stacy in any case.

  * * * *

  Alpha Space Station

  Stacy wondered at Kuran’s mood as they traveled the corridors toward Clan Rihep’s home. He’d been a bit grim lately, no doubt because he worried in the wake of some jackass sending her an explosive a couple months prior. Since the campaign rally, however, he’d been in the best mood she’d seen him in for weeks.

  “Mr. Adams is doing a decent job, I gather?”

  “I can’t fault him in the least,” Kuran said. “Of course, Earth’s population is still rather small, not to mention concentrated in a single area…”

  “You’re allowed to compliment him.” She chuckled.

  He grinned. “My only reservation thus far is Ken Bryant hired him. If they have something underhanded going on behind the scenes, I have yet to discover it.”

  “Good.” They reached the door of the quarters, which recognized them and opened obligingly. Stacy stepped in and grimaced. She called, “Oh Etnil, sweetie, what is happening in the kitchen?”

  “What?” The distant voice indeed came from the direction where Stacy was certain the horrific odor originated. She could barely breathe for the stench.

  “It would seem one of his cooking experiments got out of hand.” Kuran sighed as his clan leader, Dramok Rihep, stepped in the room.

  “Yeah, I just turned the blowers on, so the smell should disappear soon.” Rihep, as calm and unflappable as ever, his handsome face serene, kissed Stacy hello. “I also ordered delivery, so dinner will show up in a few minutes.”

  “Funny how the venting is called a blower, when it’s actually sucking out the stinky air.” Etnil came in, his boyish and eternally mischievous smile bright despite whatever awful thing had happened in the kitchen. “Maybe since blowjobs are also referred to as sucking, housing engineers went with it. It should be called a blow-me unit, right?”

  He interrupted his hectic chatter to pucker his lips in anticipation of a welcome-home kiss for Stacy. She held him off. “What were you making?”

  “Burritos. Just nice, ordinary rice and bean burritos, plus a few other ingredients.”

  “Such as dog corpses?” she guessed. The odor was incredibly foul, though thankfully dissipating.

  “It could have been the cheese. I’m pretty sure it was the cheese. Quite disappointing, given how much it cost. It doesn’t melt very well either. I thought it would be extra special, so I had Rihep import it from Haven, just to celebrate your campaign kickoff.”

  Only an Earthphile such as Etnil would have decided burritos made the perfect celebration meal. He was enamored with human cuisine, especially the kind requiring no utensils to eat.