Shalia's Diary Book 7

By Tracy St. John

Shalia and her friends are only weeks from the safety of the Kalquorian Empire. Unfortunately, enemies are determined that they will not reach Kalquor. Though Shalia trusts in the strength of Betra and Oses, she knows she’s got to do more to keep her daughter Anrel safe.

When the transport comes under attack, it’s up to Shalia to save a lot more people than herself and her child. She’s pushed to her limits as she fights for her friends ... and even those she would love to see spaced ... against overwhelming odds.

Contains elements of BDSM.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tracy St. John
• Release date: Apr 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311879080

Tracy St. John

Tracy St. John writes bestselling science fiction romances. She lives in Georgia with her husband and son, fending off mosquitos and running away from hurricanes. Before settling in to write fulltime, she worked in video production, both behind and in front of the camera. She was often cast as the gun-toting bad gal, getting handcuffed in the end. She hopes that hot alien cops will intercept those videos and investigate her nefarious schemes. Soon.

Book preview

BOOK 7

A Clans of Kalquor Story

Tracy St. John

© copyright December 2015, Tracy St. John

Cover art by Erin Dameron-Hill, © copyright March 2016

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s

imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or

events is merely coincidence.

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July 10

It’s been a few days since I last recorded anything. My free time is filled up with Anrel. I want every single moment I can have with my little girl, especially since we came so close to not having anything. Tep has to chase me out of Isolation to rest. I’m still recovering from the It’s takeover and being poisoned to flush it out.

My Anrel is hanging in there. She’s got a long way to go before her tiny body can venture out of Isolation. Her organs, though developed ahead of schedule, are not strong enough by far. But my pint-sized fighter is determined to stick around, and for that I am profoundly grateful.

I was recording a message to Clan Seot this morning. I looked like hell, but I wanted to show Anrel off to her prospective fathers. Betra walked in, interrupting me.

I smiled up at the Imdiko and paused my recording. Look who it is, small fry, I cooed to Anrel who was kicking her adorable feet in weak slow motion. Uncle Betra is here to visit his precious niece.

Actually, Tep sent me in here to make you leave for a short while, Betra corrected. Yet he wasted not an instant in bending over me and Anrel to fuss over her. He stroked her head, her arms, her legs. Hello, sweetling. Hello, little heart. Just look at that pretty girl.

Anrel paid no attention, as usual. She’d discovered for the hundredth time that day how tasty her fist is. All her attention was centered on stuffing it in her mouth. Betra and I said ridiculously gooey things in voices pitched high. I’m sure we looked like idiots ... especially my liaison, since he’s well over six feet tall and made of deliciously sculpted muscle. Watching such a behemoth cooing and making silly faces is its own brand of sweet and goofy.

My level of admittedly shaky maturity asserted itself. I just want to finish recording a message to Clan Seot. They should see this adorable baby. I’m dying for their reaction to her.

Anrel is barely big enough to fill a Kalquorian’s hands. I wanted to know how my suitors will respond to such a tiny, vulnerable being. She continues to wear a sensor vest that can be hooked up to feed her intravenously with medications and nutrition. Will Clan Seot be horrified? Or will their hearts melt? It’s important for me to discover how they respond to a helpless child.

I also want to do the same with my second batch of suitors, Clan Aslada. If I’m to trust any men to be fathers to my child, they have to demonstrate they deserve her. That they can care for and protect her. Heaven knows with my track record, she’ll need strong people close by. I wish I was stronger myself. Some days I feel as weak as Anrel. It’s pathetic.

Betra surprised me by saying, Don’t record the message. There is a better option on its way.

Better option? Such as?

Such as speaking to your suitors in real time. He grinned. The ship will be in range of mini-portals in less than a week.

I can talk to Kalquor? I gasped. I can talk to the clans face-to-face for real?

The news couldn’t have made me happier. I knew about miniature wormholes, bridges through space much too small for spacecraft to use. Yet they were perfect for instant communication, if you had someone on the other end of the portal who you wanted to talk to.

Betra had more news. There are two portals, Shalia. One will allow instantaneous transmissions to Kalquor. The other goes to the rim of Earth’s solar system. There is a relay station out there, which will bounce our signal to your old home world. The delay is only a few seconds if you wish to contact your dads.

I gave a squeal of childish delight. Anrel’s face screwed up at the high-pitched sound, as if she thought about crying. I immediately covered her in light butterfly kisses to make up for startling her. She chirruped, yawned, and resumed sucking her fist.

Once she was settled again, I asked, How long will we be in range?

Three days. That should allow you to have decent conversations with your candidates and fathers.

Erase recording, I told my handheld. I definitely want to talk to all of them in real time.

Tep’s lithe frame stepped into the room. The ship’s head doctor eyed Betra severely. I asked you to take Shalia out of here. She needs a break.

I was working on that. My liaison scooped Anrel out of my lap, her usual spot when I sit with her. I’m regaining my strength, but my arms go shaky after a few minutes of cradling her.

Bye, sweet baby, I said, sad as always when we are forced to part. Her eyes were closing in readiness to nap.

Tep came close to squeeze my shoulder. Katrina is here to sit with her. She’s busy flirting with Dr. Ret at the moment.

That made some of the gloom disappear. Dr. Ret is Captain Wotref’s Imdiko. Katrina has been carrying on with their clan for a few weeks now. I’m beginning to suspect it’s serious.

Betra settled Anrel in her tiny incubator that had been rigged for her. Similar to the full-sized medi-beds, it generates its own heat and is computerized for any treatments Anrel might need. Nothing is left to chance with my baby girl.

I know she is safe and receiving the best possible care. It doesn’t stop me from feeling as if I’m abandoning her when my hover chair is floated out of Isolation. I can’t wait for the day when Anrel is strong enough for me to bring her to my quarters and keep at my side nonstop.

July 10

Betra guided me to my quarters in the hover chair allotted to me until I’m stronger. I walk a little farther every day along with performing physical therapy, but it’s an easy thing to wipe me out. The poisoning took a hell of a toll on me. Plus my therapist is a sadistic shit named Dramok Resan. Okay, okay, I know he’s just doing his job. Still, there is something about that man that scrapes my nerves raw. Sometimes I think he enjoys putting me through the wringer. I believe he pushes me harder than is necessary.

At any rate, I tire fast. Anrel isn’t the only gal with a ways to go when it comes to being healthy.

It didn’t take us long to reach my rooms in the Matara section of the ship. I was greeted with smiles and inquiries about Anrel from my fellow travelers, Earther and Kalquorian alike. It’s nice to be cared about by so many.

Betra guided me into my sitting room. Here or the sleeping room?

Here is fine. Despite Tep’s worries, I’m not that tired. No P.T. today, so I’ve got some strength. That vampire Resan didn’t get the chance to steal my life force.

Betra chuckled and watched me as I stood and walked to the lounger. Resan’s doing something right. It was only days ago that you would have to nap after an hour with Anrel.

I sat down and mused. You’re right. I’m recovering faster than I thought.

Don’t rush it, the Imdiko warned. You have to take it easy.

I looked him over, appreciating his gorgeous physique. I can’t wait to be cleared for sex. I’m not that religious, but it’s a sin to have you running around and not enjoy every inch of that body.

That brought out Betra’s goofiest grin. You like it? He ran his palms up his thighs, over his abdomen, ending with that chiseled chest that his armored formsuit can’t quite disguise. Then they traveled down again.

Gimme, I begged, reaching for him. Stop being such a tease.

He stayed out of reach, but swiveled to display that pert, round ass of his. He cupped his buttocks, accentuating their perfection. Tease? Not me.

You’re a meanie. I’m telling Oses. He’ll teach you a lesson.

Betra turned again. His expression was a cross between anxiety and anticipation. Oses has his number in a lot of ways. I could tell Betra was weighing the pros and cons of being tattled on to the big weapons commander.

His grin was saucy again. Shalia, don’t you enjoy being teased?

He tugged the collar of the formsuit, slowly opening it down the re-sealable seam that ran from the collar to his groin. I bit my lip as a hint of that wide chest came into view.

You are so going to get it, I warned him, licking my lips as a triangle of fabric opened up to display more coffee-with-cream colored flesh. Mentally, I urged him on. Even if I couldn’t have sex, I wasn’t averse to the strip show.

Yeah? What is it you’re giving me? Betra pulled the top of the formsuit wide, displaying his shoulders. Gorgeous, strong shoulders. I heard a tiny groan spill from my throat.

Bastard, I whispered. I didn’t tell him to stop.

The Imdiko peeled free of the uniform’s long sleeves. Veined biceps joined the muscled shoulders to delight my gaze. I thought of all the times he’d held me. I shivered.

Betra saw. He damned near gloated over the effect he was having on me. Poor Shalia, he whispered. Ready men at her beck and call, and she can’t have them. Poor, poor girl.

He pulled at the seam again, opening his formsuit to just below his navel. The ridges of his abdomen came into view. I could have humped the double row of eight hills for days on end. Betra was too magnificent.

Oses will parade you up and down the ship naked, I threatened him. I’ll tell him to.

Betra’s eyes widened. The bulge that had formed at his crotch grew bigger still. The Imdiko possesses a dominating personality, particularly when it comes to sex, but he also has a weakness for being humiliated. I think the differing drives confuse him as much as me.

I have fun showing off, he purred. "I can imagine how exciting it would be to be shown off."

On a leash, I added, seeing the excitement growing in his expression, as well as parts south. With a switch striping your ass as you’re walked.

It was Betra’s turn to shiver. However, his smile only got more evil. Do you mean this ass?

He pushed the lower part of his uniform down. There it was, his perfect ass, more gorgeous than any master’s sculpture has ever been. I sighed as he rubbed his palms up and down it, wishing it was me touching him.

Keep going, I urged.

He grinned at me over his shoulder. Then he bent over – hallelujah – to tug his boots off. His butt flexed in entrancing ways as he did so. He peeled his formsuit down, baring firm chiseled legs. I drank him in from head to heels. I couldn’t get enough.

The man is a bona fide work of art.

Betra pivoted slowly, drawing out the enjoyment of my appreciation. My poor wrecked body did its best to forget it was in no shape for wild abandon. I could feel my nipples drawing tight. My pussy was wet, salivating for more than it could have. I should have been mad at Betra for his cruel taunting, but instead, I drowned in delight. I figured, what the hell, I can always rub one out ... or better yet, ask him to do it for me.

As the Imdiko’s sweetest assets came into view, I was all eyes. His cocks, the larger stacked over the smaller, were livid with excitement. Veined and glistening with natural lubrication, the tapered bullet lengths jutted straight out from his groin. Prophets preserve us. I could have flung my legs wide right then and there for him. I almost did.

You’re killing me, I moaned.

Betra’s smile was humorous with a tinge of cruelty. You like these. He stroked himself with both hands. Especially when they fill your pussy and ass. You love being fucked with them.

Which I can’t right now, I pointed out with a pout. You know I can’t have sex. Yet here you are, torturing me with your gorgeous self.

He walked toward me, his pace measured, working his cocks. There are things we can do. Things that won’t tax your strength too far.

I watched him approach, heating feverishly as he neared. Please Betra, was all I could manage.

He stood in front of me. He let go of his secondary cock and his hand drifted in front of my face. Lick it.

His palm and fingers were covered in his juices. I eagerly opened my mouth for him. I lapped his palm clean, sighing with happiness to taste him. Sweetish-spice, like cinnamon, exploded on my tongue. I sucked each of his fingers, my head bobbing back and forth as if I sucked cock. I didn’t stop until I’d tongued him clean.

Now this one. Betra offered his other hand.

As I mouthed that one, his other hand tugged the collar of my blouse down, slipping the wide scoop neck over my shoulders and down my arms. My bra straps followed, and he pulled the cups away from my breasts, baring them. He cupped a mound and then the other, then stroked over them. He tugged on my hardened nipples, sending blasts of pleasure straight down to my pussy. I moaned as I licked his hand clean.

When I had claimed the last drop of moisture, he fondled my breasts. I looked with yearning at the cocks bobbing only inches away. Mouth or hands or both?

Neither for the moment. Command hardened his voice into steel. Just sit there while I play with your tits.

He had that ‘lord and master’ look he gets when we have sex. Disobedience would result in punishment ... probably the kind I didn’t actually like. Though my hands itched to grab his flesh and my mouth watered to taste it, I didn’t dare move.

Betra massaged my breasts, his touch firm and demanding. Not hurtful, however. His was the air of a man enjoying what belonged to him rather than pushing me to prove obedience. I had the idea that my acquiescence was a given, expected. The ownership attitude excited me. I remained still, giving myself over to Betra’s right to indulge himself with me as he saw fit.

He paused in his erotic groping to roll my nipples between thumbs and forefingers. I gasped at the darts of pleasure his touch gave me, but I did not move. I dove into the fantasy of being his toy, his plaything, with no will of my own. I existed only for his enjoyment. The idea excited me.

Betra tugged at my nipples, encouraging them to draw tighter into sharp points. The tiny darts grew into lightning bolts, electrifying me. I clutched at the lounger on either side of me. My fingers dug into the plush fabric. It felt so good to be his.

When he spoke, his voice had a growling quality to it. You are beautiful when you give yourself. So sweet with surrender. You excite me, Shalia.

I looked up into his face. He wore a mix of emotions that battled for supremacy: strength, demand, desire, and compassion. Seeing him like that left me eager to give him everything.

Betra released my breasts and gripped the back of the lounger, bracing himself on either side of my head. He brought a knee up next to my leg. Then the other knee, so that he knelt, straddling me. His primary brushed over my lips. The sweet cinnamon-y flavor filled my senses, drowning me in hunger.

Lick me. Suck me, he commanded.

I was all too happy to obey. My tongue flicked over the tapered tip of him, gathering the delicious droplet waiting there. It tasted much as his lubricating juices did with the addition of savory saltiness. I moaned my appreciation, and his cocks jerked at the sound.

I lapped all over the tip of his primary, coaxing a few more drops of pre-cum out. Betra straightened a little, bringing his secondary shaft up to receive attention as well. From there, I was guided by his movements: the smaller prick at lip level so that I could lick its tip, the primary lowered to take its place for more tasting, a few shallow thrusts into my mouth with the smaller length rubbing beneath my chin, then the secondary rising once more for attention.

Tasting those fevered lengths made me ache all the more for actual intercourse. My poor pussy flexed and creamed, aching for attention. Though I couldn’t have sex, Betra would not leave me wanting. In the meantime, I was fulfilled by giving him pleasure. His raspy breathing told me I succeeded in that endeavor.

I’m jerking off into your mouth, he gasped. Keep licking.

May I touch myself? I asked, desperate for contact, even my own.

No. That pussy belongs to me. Give me your wrists.

As part of me felt bereft that I could not grant myself additional excitement, another part thrilled at the control Betra insisted on. I gave him my wrists, which he gathered in a big hand. He pinned them behind my head against the lounger.

Lick it. He gripped his larger cock and pushed it against my lips. When I tell you, open wide so I can watch my cum fill your mouth.

I wound my tongue about the tip of his prick, licking more of his essence as he masturbated. His pulse pounded frantically in the vein that ran on the underside. I closed my lips around the tip and suckled. Then I licked as far up his shaft as I could reach.

Through it all he pulled at himself, his strokes getting stronger and faster. He jerked himself as if he were trying to win a race. I had to pause to say, In a hurry to get back to work?

I’d love to do this all day, but I don’t want you tired out. Keep licking. This won’t take long.

With Betra, what could be taken as a selfish act is actually all about me. If I displayed the first instance of flagging, he’d stop no matter how miserable it made him. God love that man.

I went to work on him with a will, both to let him have his fun and to show him I was in no danger of tiring. My poor pussy throbbed. I needed to come too.

It was only a couple minutes later ... probably less ... when Betra’s eyes rolled back a little. Here ... I come ... oh ... fuck ... yeah, he ground out.

I opened wide, cupping the end of his shaft with my tongue to catch everything. A moment later heat jetted down my throat. Betra groaned, his gaze fixed on watching it happen.

I swallowed with slow deliberation to make him groan again. Excitement spiked in my gut as I fulfilled his lust. He finished and shook as the last spicy-salty spurt left his manhood.

Fuck, that was good, he breathed. Thank you.

I grinned up at him despite need riding me like a sadistic jockey on a horse. You don’t usually let yourself be fulfilled first.

I know you. Betra backed off the lounger. He knelt down and pushed my skirt up. Pulling my panties off, he said, Once I get you off, your poor body will be desperate for a nap. But you’ll feel guilty if you don’t reciprocate, and then I’ll have to listen to you whine and pretend you’re not exhausted—

Whine? I barked. When do I whine?

He spread my legs and smiled at what was between them. Complain, then. Bitch at me. Whatever you wish to call it.

I was ready to tell him off (though I knew he told the truth) when he leaned in and snagged a mouthful of me. My twat fizzed with joy, shutting down all protests and arguments and, yes, bitching. Especially when a couple of fingers entered me, sliding in and out, the tips dragging hard against all the best places.

My thighs tightened around Betra’s head, gripping him in a vise. He chuckled against my clit, sending delicious vibrations through me. I cried out and arched.

Nmm ehmsurmng mrsmmm, he mumbled in a warning tone. He buzzed my happy place better than a vibrator.

What? I gasped. I let up enough for him to gain some air and speak normally.

No exerting yourself, he repeated. His blue-purple eyes flashed at me, but he looked amused. My juices covered him from nose to chin.

Oh, I managed before he buried his face in me again.

I tried to relax because he was right. Someone should have sent a memo to my hips. I couldn’t keep them from jerking and bucking in reaction to Betra’s talented mouth, tongue, and fingers.

He shoved a third finger in and drummed into me. He licked and sucked my clit with force that verged on uncomfortable. In short, he did everything perfectly, as usual. I didn’t climb to orgasm; I raced to win that bitch.

Just ... a little more, I panted. Almost ... almost ... don’t stop ... almost...

My whole body went taut, readying for detonation. A few more seconds would get me there. I was on the cusp, my pussy gathering itself for the big release.

One more second ... yeah ... yeah ... yeahyeahyeahyeahYEAHYEAHYEAH!

Sweet, engorging, billowing fire, racing from that single point of ignition and racing through my veins. I lit like a giant firecracker, shooting for the stratosphere. Boom-boom-boom, a gazillion rockets. It was magnificent.

My legs fell apart, as sturdy as overcooked noodles. I sagged all over, sinking into lounger cushions. I quieted, letting the last tiny spasms fizzle as Betra licked me clean.

That’s a nice smile, he said when he came up for air. His expression was smug. It deserved to be.

Thank you, I mumbled. Much better.

He got up. I was already nodding off when he cradled me in his arms and walked me to my bedroom. I swear I never felt him put me to bed. I have no idea if I mumbled goodbye before he left. I slept like the dead for the next hour.

July 11, early

I just received the strangest message from Earth. I’m on the verge of a full-on freak-out.

There was no return frequency, no identification of the sender. It was sent several days ago, which is par for the course due to the distance the transport is from Earth. It was a single sentence long. Com your fathers about Commander Nang.

That’s it. That’s all I have. So why am I panicking? Because nothing to do with me is ever minor. I am the universe’s fuck-over magnet. I get out of one scrape only to fall flat on my face in another. It’s similar to tripping in a cow pasture. No matter where it happens, I will faceplant in poo.

I can’t take any more craziness. I’m still weak. I have Anrel to worry over. I’ll be on Kalquor in about two months, without Oses and Betra to watch over me.

Okay, deep breaths. Nang is back on Earth. He can’t do anything to me. Maybe something bad happened to him and he wants me to hear about it. After all, before he turned weird, we did have a few good times. He may be Anrel’s natural father. If anything awful has happened to him, I should know about it.

Who sent me the message if not my dads? One of Nang’s clanmates? Or do I dare hope that someone from Clan Dusa is reaching out to me?

Boy, doesn’t that send a pang of sadness through me. It’s been a long time since Dusa, Esak, and Weln cut off all communications. Anrel’s other potential fathers made it a point to walk away. We couldn’t clan, and I wasn’t sure I wished to clan. That killed the relationship off.

It had to have come from someone in Clan Nang or Clan Dusa. Why the cryptic missive though? Why that bald statement?

I could wait until I have that instant feedback to Earth to find out, but I’m too wigged out. I know a man who might have some answers for me. Let’s see if he has time for good old frantic Shalia.

July 11, later

Oses’s office door was open when I showed up. The instant I appeared in his doorway, he shoved his work to the side and stood, his feral features going savage. What’s wrong? he growled.

Boy, talk about someone who is ready to jump in front of a bullet for a girl. One look at me, and the weapons commander geared up to kick some ass. I swear the muscles in his scarred arms swelled like balloons. Gotta love those sleeveless uniforms. I was turned on and freaked out all at once.

I also felt kind of bad for verging on hysterics. Oses can’t stand to see me endangered. He once had a breakdown over it. I fought to make myself appear calmer.

Maybe nothing, I mustered my most sensible tone. I received a weird message, and I’m no doubt reading all sorts of stuff into it that don’t belong.

I had loaded the note into my handheld computer. I brought up the short and not-so-sweet text for Oses to read.

Nang. The Dramok who fixated on you and may be Anrel’s biological sire? he mused. The crease between his brows deepened and then he glanced at me shifting nervously on my feet. Shalia, sit down. You walked here all by yourself?

I was in trouble for that, but in my panic, I hadn’t been thinking straight. I perched on the nearby chair. It was stupid, given my condition. I flipped out. I didn’t realize I’d done it until you said so.

He raised an eyebrow at me. Adrenaline is a wonderful thing in an emergency, but this doesn’t qualify. You’ll be weak as a baby in a few moments.

That made me think of Anrel. Oses, can Nang make trouble for me and Anrel? That was my first thought when I saw it. What if his duties ended and he left Earth? What if he’s traveling to Kalquor?

Oses came around the desk and knelt at my feet. His hands, as big as my head, cupped my jaw. If that is the case, he’s far behind us. If he’s journeying home, it will be nine months before he gets there.

I got worked up over diddly-squat. I relaxed. I guess I’m so used to one emergency after another that I’m jumping at shadows now.

I didn’t say you shouldn’t be alert. Oses frowned, his gaze going distant as he considered. It could be someone thought you should be aware that something happened to this Nang, due to your past association with him.

I thought of that possibility myself. If I knew who sent it, that might help.

Oses stood up and propped himself against the desk edge. He picked up my handheld and scowled at the message. He tapped in a few commands and scowled even harder at the results.

What? I prodded.

The big Nobek gave me a smile that was supposed to be comforting. With that fierce visage, he doesn’t do comforting well. It’s possibly nothing. Best to be sure though. I’ll make some inquiries to Earth and see what I can find out.

Tell me what you’re thinking, Oses. Don’t try to protect me by acting as if it’s no big deal when it’s a very big deal. I’ll think the worst if you don’t share what’s banging around in that skull of yours.

That earned me a real smile, filled with respect. Always ready to face the dark, aren’t you, my pet? As I said, it’s probably nothing. I’m being an old, suspicious Nobek.

But?

The com frequency this came from has been scrambled. Someone didn’t want you to trace the source. I can tell it came from Earth, but not specifically where on Earth or who sent it.

They don’t want me to know who they are.

Yet it was important enough to him to get you a communication. This makes me think it’s a warning of some sort.

I swallowed hard. Like Nang has been re-assigned to Kalquor. That maybe someone thinks he still has an urge to see me.

That could be. Oses reached over to caress my face. If that is the case, we’ll find out. I’ll see to it that safeguards are in place to shield you from him, if necessary. You won’t be left without protection, pet.

I started to feel better about the situation. Thanks, Oses. My biggest worry is that Nang might find out that Anrel could be his daughter. That he’ll try to push the issue.

The weapons commander’s face darkened. There is no issue. No matter the biological status, he has no claim on either you or Anrel. Both of you will be kept safe.

I was reassured by Oses’s assertion. However, a small part of me was reminded that I’d been in danger before, danger that a number of destroyers and Kalquorians hadn’t shielded me from. If Nang was heading back to Kalquor and wasn’t ready to give up his hopes that I would be a part of his life, I needed to verify I could maintain Anrel’s security. Somehow, I would have to up the odds in my favor.

I wish I had a clue on how to do that.

Before I could ask Oses’s opinion, Betra walked into the room staring at his handheld. Hey Oses, on that little escapade we were planning—

I have a visitor, Imdiko, Oses said in a warning voice.

Betra’s mouth dropped wide open to spy me. Shalia! What are you doing here? He rounded on the weapons commander, his expression turning angry with accusation. Did you bring her in here?

I came on my own, I said. I got a freaky message and acted stupid.

I should say it was stupid. You shouldn’t be exerting yourself that much. Wait, what freaky message? What happened? His mind was racing a mile a minute, trying to catch up to the shock of my being there.

What is this ‘escapade’ you two are having? I countered, curiosity overriding my worry.

Betra reddened and turned to Oses for help. The Nobek appeared amused over the whole affair.

He waved Betra to the seat next to mine. I’ll catch you up on the latest, Imdiko. Right now, it’s nothing to be worried about. I noticed he stressed the words right now.

He showed my liaison the com message I’d received. Betra displayed confusion, as well as a touch of alarm. Neither of you has any idea who would send this? he asked.

Ideas aplenty, but to find out, I’d have to talk to people who don’t necessarily want to talk to me, I answered.

We’ll discover what is going on with this Dramok Nang soon enough, Oses said. We’ll reach the wormholes in a couple of days. I’ll com the Atlanta site where he was last stationed and get a report. If he and his clan have been recalled to Kalquor, we’ll find out well ahead of time.

I’ll com my dads, I said. Whoever sent me that message believed they’re aware of what’s happened or is happening.

I wonder if he found out you were pregnant, Betra mused. If that’s the case, he may have mentioned something in your informant’s presence that worried him.

I shook my head, thinking of Anrel. Would Nang want to visit her? Would he try to insinuate himself in her life, believing he was her father? If so, what could I do about it?

Oses tugged gently on a lock of my hair. Measures will be adopted to ensure the safety of you and the baby, Shalia. Don’t doubt that for a second.

I don’t, I answered. But nothing is guaranteed. Can I carry my blaster when I’m on Kalquor?

Betra muttered an oath. Are you that afraid of this Nang?

He was obsessed with me. When it comes to Anrel, I don’t want anything left to chance.

Not just anyone can walk around in public with firearms. Only police, security officers, military, and people trained in weaponry with a compelling reason, Oses told me. You would be able to maintain your blaster in your quarters with no problem, but locked away in a safe place where Anrel cannot get to it.

Well, duh. What kind of moron wouldn’t keep a dangerous weapon out of the reach of their kid?

I was ready for a change of subject. You were discussing an escapade when you came in? Do I get to be a part of that? Or is it something for just the two of you?

What makes you think you’re in any shape for adventure? Betra frowned. There is still the matter of you coming here on your own. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that.

I waved him off. Okay, my legs are limp noodles, but I’m fine otherwise.

"You think you’re fine."

Punish me for being a twit. You can schedule my spanking for when I’m better. The thought of a spanking made me happy all over. I’ll be glad when I’m recovered.

Oses grinned at Betra. Add it to our plans.

I sat straight up. I am a part of it. What is it? What are we going to do?

Betra laughed, his worried anger disappearing at my enthusiasm. It’s a surprise. We’ll give you a proper celebration once Tep gives us the go-ahead. Which isn’t for a while yet, he added, becoming stern again.

I wiggled in my chair, delighted with whatever they’re plotting. Embarrassment colored my glee. I figured once I had the baby, I’d be done with doctors hearing every instance I wanted to play hide-the-sausage. I hate Tep being a voyeur into my sex life.

Hide the sausage? Betra’s eyes went wide. Oses bellowed laughter at my turn of phrase.

You know it, I grinned. I’d give anything to do it. Thinking about what you might have in store for me has me excited.

They exchanged a glance. She’s already given herself a workout by coming here, Betra said.

Not being given release is stressful as well, Oses pointed out. "Plus, a good climax gives her no choice but to rest afterwards. She’ll want a nice long