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.
“Just be aware, it’ll take work to win any of these Mataras.” Osopa continued to caution them. It gave Yorso another momentary pang of indecision.
“Did any in particular catch your fancy, my Nobek?”
Osopa hesitated, an uncommon occurrence for the no-nonsense warrior. Just as Yorso was about to ask if they’d lost the connection, Osopa spoke. “There’s one. She’s—let me send you the file I requested from Imdiko Vadef.”
A holo vid popped up in the air over Tukui’s com. Yorso gaped at the still photo of a stunning redhead with hazel eyes. The picture was part of a formal record, but Yorso couldn’t read the particulars despite his excellent grasp of English. He was too mesmerized by the fresh-faced beauty with the spatter of spots over her nose and cheeks.
Freckles. They call those freckles.
“Beautiful,” he murmured.
His voice choked, Tukui stumbled over the name at the top of the record. “Val-een-tie-na No-vak?”
“More likely pronounced ‘Valentina Novak’.” Yorso couldn’t do more than whisper. He could be the clanmate to this goddess?
“I overheard someone call her Tina.” The gruff quality to Osopa’s already deep voice was a subtle but definite sign of her effect on him. “The picture does her no justice. She’s far more gorgeous.”
“Is that possible?”
Osopa’s chuckle was cut short. He hated to display emotion when on duty. Too unprofessional, both for his breed and his rank. “Examine the rest of the file on your way down. I’ve included other profiles for you to view as well, so it doesn’t have to be her. The captain’s and first officer’s clans have chosen their Mataras, so we have our pick.”
Tukui drew a ragged breath as he paged through the file, scanning the information. “We’ll check, but this Tina—she’s spectacular. There’s quite a long list of commendations for her caring and helpful behavior since coming to the moon too. I can’t imagine we’ll find a better candidate for our clan.”
“Catch the next shuttle. I’m impatient to get away from all these upset faces staring at me.”
“We’re on our way.” Tukui clicked the com off and started for the door. Typical Tukui, ready to run to the next project without a second thought.
“Tukui?”
The Dramok halted and turned. He blinked in surprise that Yorso hadn’t followed. “Yes?”
“Earther culture…well, I doubt the women are upset just because we invaded. They’ve been told we want to make them sex slaves. They’re expecting the