end could look each other in the eye. The captain’s gaze flickered to Tukui, and he visibly winced before saying, “Of course, if a clan doesn’t feel they can shoulder the responsibility—the heavy responsibility of caring for a Matara—they need not claim one.”
Tukui’s mind raced along with his heart, disregarding the obvious suggestion that Captain Tranis spoke for his benefit. A Matara? For his young, low-ranked clan?
It took all his self-control to keep a delighted grin from spreading wide. He somehow managed to maintain a composed expression. Of course he could handle caring for a Matara. Even he, as impetuous as he tended to be, was capable of doting and loving and telling a woman how wonderful she was. His fathers had made it seem easy.
Don’t be dumb. Women are just as complicated as men. Compliments and presents aren’t the whole of making them happy. Such trivialities weren’t enough for Osopa or Yorso. Especially not Yorso.
True. But Tukui had won them as clanmates despite a few significant bumps in their relationships. Among the many Dramoks they could have joined, they’d chosen him. It proved that though he was impetuous to the point of occasional recklessness, he was a decent guy for the most part. And improving all the time. Even Captain Tranis had commented on his progress at his last review.
Besides, depending on how the war shook out in the next few weeks, this might be his one and only chance to add a lifebringer to his clan. How could he refuse it?
“Simdow, when you pass the news to the crew, tell prospective clans to consider this opportunity with the greatest gravity. To consider all the changes having a lifebringer will make to every facet of their existence.” Tranis’s gaze again flicked to Tukui as the first officer acknowledged the command.
Tukui was relieved when they signed off. The view of Europa, flanked by floating readouts on either side, took the place of the captain’s face. The Earther transport they’d followed and captured orbited alongside them.
Spoils of war: a well-armed ship, an enemy general and his secrets, and female clanmates. It was no wonder he felt giddy.
Simdow turned from his helm podium to face him. The first officer’s eyes sparkled. “You got all that, Navigator?”
Tukui could finally let a smile stretch his lips. “You’ll get second pick of Mataras, after the captain’s clan.”
“Thanks to Osopa’s rank, you’ll choose third.” Simdow was grinning too. He shook his head in wonderment. “What a mission.”
“It’s a great day to be us.”
“No kidding.” Still wearing a dazed but happy expression, Simdow turned back to his console.
Tukui wondered if Osopa had already located likely candidates for his clan’s Matara. What he wouldn’t do to be there at the colony himself at that moment!
It was against protocol, but Tukui couldn’t help himself. Making sure no one was looking in his direction, he slid his personal com from its pouch on his belt. Tapping quickly, he sent a message to Osopa.
I realize you have a lot going on, but text-com as soon as possible, my Nobek.
* * * *
A year after giving up numerous suitors at his beck and call, Imdiko Yorso remained assured he wouldn’t have traded Tukui and Osopa for any other Dramok or Nobek. Yet he struggled with certain aspects of clanned life. Such as having to wait for others, even if those others were his adored clanmates. It was difficult to be patient, particularly on such a momentous day.
Osopa couldn’t help being absent. He was on Europa, a small moon with a tiny colony. It would have been overlooked by the spyship, except the enemy general it was following had made a surprise stop there. If not for that, the shocking treasure on Europa would have gone undiscovered.
Mataras. Over a hundred of appropriate age. Yorso shivered, enthralled with the news. More excited by the rumors that had followed.
Where the hell was Tukui? His regular shift was over. Had he been called to stay at his station? If so, why hadn’t he informed Yorso?
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