notice.” He nodded to the assembled. “Site assignments are coming your way in the next few days. Who here has actual face-to-face experience with Earthers?”
Yorso was one of four who raised their hands. Jes noted them down. “You’ll remain after this basic informational meeting is dismissed. We’ll need you advising area commanders and dealing with refugees at the most important sites, where you’ll do the most good. Let’s go over the specifics of the situation.”
As the meeting droned on, Yorso’s brain roiled. Going to Earth for what was looking like months meant being separated from his clan. From Tina, who needed her entire clan. Would he be able to get out of the assignment to care for her?
With few cultural experts available and hundreds of rescue sites set to open, Yorso feared the worst. What was one emotionally fragile Earther compared to billions facing death if they weren’t helped?
He could see his fate already. He would request to be excused from duty, citing his new Matara and her emotionally fragile state. Admiral Jes, who kept expounding how desperate the situation was and how critical the cultural staff’s expertise was to the rescue operation, would refuse. Yorso would have no choice but to remain.
At least she’d still have Tukui and Osopa. Maybe they’d be enough to reassure her she still had all of her clan, that Yorso hadn’t abandoned her.
Except Tukui and Osopa serve on board a combat vessel. She can’t stay with them.
His stomach clenched. Had he eaten breakfast that morning, he’d have vomited then and there. In the excitement of clanning Tina and the near-nonstop turmoil that had followed, the obstacles of Tukui’s and Osopa’s careers taking them away for long stretches at a time hadn’t occurred to him. Apparently, it hadn’t crossed their minds either.
They’d have to send Tina to Kalquor alone. She’d be on her own—again. Set aside by the thoughtless clanmates who’d failed to consider how their work would affect her, who’d sworn she’d never have to face such a situation as long as they lived.
It took everything Yorso had in him to not jump to his feet and scream at Admiral Jes, to curse him and the rest of the fleet for the disaster their stupid war with Earth had wrought, for making his assurances to his Matara a pile of devastating lies.
* * * *
Yorso was still reeling hours later as he left the Earther transport’s shuttle bay and navigated the corridors to his quarters.
He hadn’t been able to convince Admiral Jes to exempt him from the rescue effort on Tina’s behalf. In fact, Jes had pointed out that being the only liaison with an Earther Matara made Yorso indispensable to his plans.
Jes be damned. The whole fucking fleet be damned. Tina came first, and Yorso’s Matara wouldn’t go without her Imdiko. She wouldn’t be without any of her clan.
He was so lost in the maelstrom of his thoughts that he nearly walked into a man standing in his path. “Whoa! Watch it—oh. Hey Zevs.”
“Hey yourself. Tough day? Such a handsome guy shouldn’t look as upset as you do.” Zevs was all concern.
“Yeah, I’ve been better.”
“Anything I can do to take your mind off your troubles? Anything at all?” The concern shifted into insinuation. Zevs’ smile was all lecherous charm. With worry for Tina crowding his mind, Yorso wasn’t having it.
“You can get out of my way. And watch your mouth. I have a Dramok.”
“Since when does that keep you from accepting kindness when it’s offered? Come on, Yorso, be nice when someone asks to help. Where’s that sweet Imdiko who used to let me kiss the troubles better?”
Yorso’s temper snapped, and he slapped Zevs’ face hard enough that the Dramok staggered.
“This sweet Imdiko belongs to the Dramok he chose over you. Don’t insult Tukui again by flirting with me, or I’ll send Osopa to straighten you out.”
He stormed past Zevs, who was too shocked to respond. Several onlookers, including a couple of Nobeks, wisely stepped out of his path as he stomped by, muttering profanity as he went.
By the time he reached the lift that would transport him to the deck where his quarters were, Yorso had calmed enough to realize he probably shouldn’t have hit Zevs. But in his mood, it had felt damned good.
Who did Zevs think he was, coming on to another Dramok’s Imdiko? “He’s slime, that’s what,” Yorso snarled. “Not half the man Tukui is. Be nice? Is he kidding me? By the ancestors, what the hell did I