Chapter Sixteen
At Kalquorian Security Headquarters, in the governmental mini-city ten miles from Sunrise, Dramok Dolgra stood across the room from Groteg. The officer sat at his desk in his office. Dolgra knew he considered Groteg longer than was warranted, but the Nobek never failed to impress him. Much like his clanmates, the security chief was a riveting presence. Clan Amgar had a terrible tendency to rock Dolgra’s professionalism when he was on the job.
The Nobek pursed his lips as he read whatever report floated on the holographic monitor over his computer. It said a lot for him that he’d risen to the head of the Kalquorian branch of Haven’s planetary police force. Such an administrative position demanded a lot of work in the office, even if the person in charge was as hands-on an officer as Groteg was. Nobeks weren’t known for their willingness when it came to writing and reading reports. If this particular member of the protective breed had any issues doing the desk jockey portion of his job, Dolgra had yet to see it.
The spy fingered the phase device pinned to the collar of his undercover disguise, a tan delivery uniform. Dolgra gauged the distance between himself and Groteg. He noted which obstacles he could quickly dash to and put between them, mentally preparing himself for the attack that might come.
He deactivated the phase keeping him invisible. Groteg alerted at once to his sudden appearance. Haven’s security head shot to his feet, fangs down and showing. Every tendon and sinew stood out on impressive muscles left bare by his sleeveless armored uniform.
His glare lasted barely a second before he eased. He shook his head at Dolgra. “Gets me every time.”
“Sorry. I’m no fan of people unphasing in my presence either.” Dolgra’s apology was genuine. It was shocking to have someone abruptly appear out of thin air.
“You can’t warn me first?” To give him credit, Groteg sounded only slightly grumpy.
“Maybe I can toss a small object on your desk to give you a heads-up in the future. It’ll still be abrupt, but at least it won’t trigger you tearing my head off.” Dolgra grinned.
“I make you nervous? I’ll take it as a consolation prize. Door, lock.” He returned the smile and motioned to the hover chair in front of his desk. “I assume you’d prefer to keep this visit secret, or you wouldn’t have crept in here phased.”
“As usual.” Dolgra took the offered chair. The urge to indulge in small talk was resolutely quashed. “I read your report on the stalker at Nobek Detodev’s home.”
“Connelly was hoping to personally question O’Neal first thing this morning, but my Earther counterpart experienced shuttle problems. He’ll grill him this afternoon instead. Anything from your contacts?”
Dolgra nodded. “O’Neal’s from Mercy. His real name’s Kelly Kirk.”
“An alias?” Groteg scowled. “I’m surprised he got through Connelly’s department using false credentials. They’re pretty thorough. Connelly’s no slouch when it comes to keeping Earthtiques off Haven.”
“Remember, Kirk got here about seven years ago.”
“Before Connelly became chief about seven years ago. Good, his reputation’s intact.”
“It might not have mattered. Kirk’s documentation was spotless. I inspected it myself, since he came from Mercy. It took real digging to find his actual identity.”
“You looked through the Earther department’s records?” Groteg regarded him with no show of emotion.
“I always keep an eye on those coming from Mercy and New Bethlehem, due to the political leanings there.”
Groteg showed no real reaction to Dolgra’s snooping. He was aware the spy had clandestine access to the human half of Haven’s security force, and he kept his mouth shut about it. As a matter of fact, he’d never asked Dolgra for any information when investigating cases involving Earthers. It would have been unethical as well as illegal to do so. In Dolgra’s experience, it hadn’t stopped plenty of law enforcement supervisors from pushing for intel when they’d known they were dealing with Kalquor’s spy division.
He'd once mentioned the fact to Groteg. The Nobek’s response had been, “If I had a major problem, such as a serial killer or child abductor, I might appeal to you for information. To my mind, such dangerous situations supersede bureaucratic bullshit. But for regular law enforcement, it wouldn’t be right.”
Dolgra had discovered much to respect when it came to the Nobek. Every time they spoke, he found more to like.
He resumed his update on the would-be attacker. “On Mercy, Kirk had connections with lower-level Earthtiques. Mostly town-level militia groups who liked to intimidate those of a more tolerant mindset when it came to aliens, lifestyles, and so on. He’d been jailed on several occasions for threats. Twice for minor assault.”
Groteg considered. “From my limited experience in his company, he didn’t seem smart enough to pick up on Charity’s identity. It seems unlikely he showed up seven years ago to wait this long to attack those who live in opposition to his beliefs.”
“He also doesn’t match the physical description Matara Charity gave of her assailant in the barn.”
“It means he’s working for someone else on behalf of Mercy’s Earthtique faction. Maybe his accomplice told him to spy on her. Kirk must have decided to act on his own when the evening turned friendlier between her and her companions.” Groteg scowled. “It means we have at least one other person after her. Someone who operates better under our radar.”
Dolgra nodded. “My thoughts exactly. I think we have to get Charity off Haven.”
“What? Where else can she go?” Groteg’s shock was obvious as he kept speaking rather than allowing Dolgra to respond. “Dark Death is running amuck on Earth. The Darks have accessed the rest of the Kalquorian Empire and our home world. They could get to her there. Those bastards leaked the vid footage of Copeland and spread the intel General Borey Nath is alive and well, which set this whole mess off.”
Again, Groteg impressed Dolgra. Charity Nath had been dumped on him with little notice. She’d been staying at his farm for a matter of days, yet he was already fiercely protective of her. He was a true Nobek, eager to fight for the safety of the vulnerable.
Fighting off the smile that would have been inappropriate given their conversation, he said, “We concocted a last contingency in case she was identified again. I’ll ask the fleet to send a ship. She’ll have to live on it, and they won’t dock anywhere until the heat is off.”
Groteg stared at him. “You could be talking years, her traveling around in such a manner. As long as Browning Copeland lives, if not longer. She isn’t a Coydidak.” He named the group of Kalquorians who roamed the galaxy endlessly in their ragtag vessels, a sometimes lawless bunch who refused to live by society’s dictates. “Do you really expect her to put her life on hold for an indefinite period?”
“She’ll be alive. I see no alternative. She has to leave Haven.”
The Nobek snorted. “You’re forgetting an important detail, Dolgra.”
“Which is?”
“Though Charity isn’t thrilled about being stuck on an agricultural planet, it’s clear she’s getting close to those three young men. She’s invested in them beyond a simple fling. I don’t think she realizes it yet, but she will if she’s told she has to leave.”
“She didn’t want to come here, but she did when we told her to. She understands her well-being depends on our protection,” the spy pointed out.
“That may be, but I think she’s decided she’ll no longer allow your division to tell her what to do. She’s an adult, and she’s hit her limit when it comes to hiding. Don’t be surprised if she tells you she isn’t going anywhere.”
Dolgra groaned in the face of Groteg’s certainty. Charity could legally refuse to leave Haven if she decided to do so.
She was also the sister of Clan Piras’ Matara. Admiral Piras was a big deal in the spy division’s hierarchy. It would be Dolgra’s career…hell, it would be his ass…if anything happened to Charity on his watch. Piras was a legend as the last man in existence to piss off.
“Can I work for you if this goes to hell? And if I somehow survive the Terror of the Fleet’s wrath?”
Groteg chuckled in sympathy for his predicament.
* * * *
Ilid wondered if he made too big a deal out of what couldn’t possibly interest his new friends. He ushered them in the bakery his parent clan had messaged they’d closed the sale on the evening before. He felt pride at the work he and his family had done once the contract had been agreed to. The former owner had permitted to them to start updating the facility prior to the final legal approval to be issued by Haven’s governors.
The bakery’s new pastel color scheme of sky blue, sage green, and buttery yellow was soothing but far from boring. The seating areas varied from upholstered loungers, chairs one could sink in, billowing floor cushions, and sturdy chairs around intimate tables. Artwork hadn’t been hung yet, but Ilid had explained it would represent local artists and would be for sale.
Every surface gleamed. A quarter of the new appliances had already been installed. It took no imagination to realize how the bakery would appear when the updates were completed. The windows looked out on the street, but plans were in place to build a patio enclosed by a low wall and flowering plantings. It wouldn’t merely be a bakery but a space to linger with friends.
“I’m scheduling an appointment to talk to the coffee shop across the street to set up a station in here. Their product is excellent,” Ilid enthused as they paused just inside the door. The group gawked in open admiration of the changes that had been implemented. “They don’t offer much in the way of Kalquorian baked goods, so I’m hoping to offer a trade. There’s no sense competing against a potential partner if we can benefit each other instead.”
“Smart,” Detodev acknowledged. “A lot of us drink coffee and tea now. Being able to stop in one spot to buy the best of both worlds would make a lot of people happy. Especially if the line is moving faster at one location.”
“Hey, you could do my sales pitch for me.”
Detodev grinned. Ilid was struck by the change in the reticent Nobek from when they’d first met. He felt different himself, having been accepted by his companions despite his flaws as a Dramok.
His future felt the most hopeful it had been since his horrific encounter with the Darks. He could actually imagine having a clan. Mitag had especially made it clear he was eager for clanmates. Maybe they could win Detodev too, given the Nobek had similar issues of unworthiness.
The pit of Ilid’s stomach ached when he glanced at Charity. She saw no future for herself on Haven. She hated the planet and craved the excitement of the city. He couldn’t blame her. He’d felt the same restless energy prior to his encounter with the Darks.
Perhaps he was foolish to consider his three companions as the perfect clan for himself, especially where she was concerned. It was damned hard to imagine another woman who could match her for wit, charm, and intelligence, wrapped in one lovely package. If only he could offer her something worthwhile to make her stay.
You can’t ask her to give up her education or career to live where she won’t be happy. Enjoy her while she’s here. Don’t allow regrets to ruin what you have while you have it.
He set aside the yearning threatening to darken his mood as his parents came from the kitchen area at the rear of the building. They exclaimed in delight to see the young people and immediately made a fuss over them.
“How wonderful you’ve come,” Imdiko Jadel enthused after greetings were exchanged. “What do you think of our latest enterprise?”
“The bakery already looks fantastic,” Charity told them. “When do you think it’ll open?”
“Well, manager?” Ilid’s mother beamed at him.
He grinned back. “I think we can have the equipment ready to go in two weeks. Leaving room for unforeseen delays and promotion…a month?”
Mitag whipped his handheld from a pouch on his belt and tapped. “I have an opening in four weeks, thanks to a last-minute cancellation. A groom got cold feet. Really cold feet. He left a note breaking it off and disappeared from town.”
“Yikes,” Charity said. “The bride must be upset.”
“I hear she’s already dating his best man. The deposit for my services is nonrefundable, so little harm’s done where my account is concerned. How does this date work for you to schedule a grand opening celebration, Ilid?” Mitag waved his calendar in the Dramok’s face.
“It depends on the cost.” Mitag’s services were in demand, and clients were willing to pay premium prices. No doubt he had patrons clamoring for the suddenly empty slot.
“For you, it’s free.”
Ilid blinked at him. “You can’t.”
“It’s my business, so yeah, I can. You talked about a trade with the coffee shop. We should do a trade too.” Mitag continued to tap his handheld.
“How?”
“You said your equipment will be up and running in two weeks? Let’s get together on when you can bake samples for me to hold tastings for upcoming potential clients. A Kalquorian bakery fits my needs for a number of events this upcoming season, so you couldn’t open at a better time.”
“Um, okay.” Ilid wondered if he should feel bad for preferential treatment. After all, Mitag might be doing so simply because they had the potential for becoming clanmates. Ilid would have to prove he was worthy of the Imdiko taking the chance on his work.
If Diju thought the same, she obviously didn’t mind. She clapped her hands gleefully. “It appears Ilid’s Bakery is up and running at full steam before it’s even opened.”
“ Ilid’s Bakery?” He gaped at his mother.
“Well, you’ll inherit it in the end. Unless you’re as successful as I’m sure you’ll be and buy me out first. Or, if an important event comes up to celebrate in the future, the business would make a nice gift.” She glanced at Detodev, Mitag, and Charity, then exchanged glances with his smiling fathers. She giggled.
Realization swept over Ilid. She’d plotted to let him have the bakery all along and was dangling it as a clanning gift. He looked at Detodev, Mitag, and Charity in turn to see if they’d caught the manipulation.
Detodev had. He was regarding Ilid from the corner of his eye, his brow raised. His lips trembled, as if holding off laughter. At least he wasn’t wearing a expression of horror at the idea.
Mitag was still pounding on his handheld. He wore a slight smile, but Ilid couldn’t tell if it was because he’d understood what Diju was up to.
Charity was taking in their surroundings, giving no indication she’d heard the subtext. “This is a terrific gift. And your name on it. Pretty sweet deal, Ilid.”
It would be sweeter if you were part of it. Ilid brushed aside the regret and bowed in respect to his parent clan. “I’ll do my best to reward your faith in me. Thank you for such an amazing opportunity.”
Charity didn’t dare look at the others. She was afraid they’d see the longing that had sprung up unbidden in her heart.
… if an important event comes up to celebrate sometime in the future…
It didn’t take a rocket scientist, or even an astronomy student, to know Diju was up to her usual matchmaking tricks. Charity often found it amusing how eager she, and to an extent Ilid’s fathers, were to win him clanmates. It was as if they thought love and lifelong companionship would heal the hurts he’d suffered.
Maybe they were right. He’d been brighter since the night before. Not necessarily because of the amorous activities they’d indulged in. No, the catalyst had come from revealing his trials thanks to his Dark encounter and being given nonjudgmental compassion and understanding from his new friends.
He’d returned it to them in equal measure. Charity could see the darkness had lifted substantially from Detodev. The sense of Mitag’s desperate need for close companionship had eased as well, taking him from overeagerness to a laidback warmth. Her own guilt for lying about her true identity had been absolved.
She could see the three men becoming a clan. It felt right they should do so, even at this early stage. Charity had heard of people seeing “the one” and knowing right away they’d be married. She wondered if anyone had ever noticed it for others as she felt she had for Ilid, Mitag, and Detodev.
She was shocked to find she yearned for it too. They teased her for her impulsive nature, for her often exasperating mischief, and a capriciousness her own family had found irritating. They accepted her as she was.
They wouldn’t run off on me to save the universe. It was another draw for Charity. She was proud of her father and sister for their selfless giving to the cause of stopping those who’d destroy the innocent. She respected and loved her family for their devotion to justice. But it had left her alone far too many times.
A baker. An event planner. A farmhand. They weren’t glamorous men. They weren’t interested in performing great deeds to change the galaxy. Nevertheless, they were each heroic in their own way, men who’d survived pasts determined to break them. More importantly, they were here . They had no intention of going anywhere.
But Haven? Planet Farm Hell? You can’t be considering it.