Authors: Tracy St. John
Michaela
First Mataras:
MICHAELA
A Clans of Kalquor Story
By
Tracy St. John
© copyright October 2014, Tracy St. John
Cover art by Erin Dameron-Hill, © copyright September 2014
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.
Kindle Edition
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Author’s Note:
This is a companion story to
Clans of Kalquor 2: Alien Rule
. Please note
Michaela
contains graphic depictions of BDSM sex between men and an intersex.
The Kalquorian Empire was and still is a civilization of great importance to the Galactic Council of Planets. The fierce but intelligent species has been at the forefront of technological, medical, and scientific breakthroughs for millennia. Their military might has never been in question; even their ancient enemy, the opportunistic race of Tragooms, hesitates to attack a Kalquorian force half its size.
However, Kalquor’s survival is in jeopardy. The force that has threatened this mighty race is not one that wields weaponry. It cannot even be seen with the naked eye. It is a virus.
Centuries ago, this virus struck the home world of Kalquor, wiping out a substantial number of its people, particularly the females. Symptoms included massive bleeding of the body’s major organs, along with those of the female reproductive tract. Damaging the x-chromosome of the Kalquorians, the virus’ effects went beyond death. The majority of women not killed outright were rendered infertile, and daughters born to those who could bear children were not guaranteed the ability to do the same. The virus altered the very DNA of the entire race.
In an effort to keep their race from going extinct and prevent fighting amongst the men, family groups called clans were formed. Each clan was made up of one female known as the Matara (childbearer) and representatives of each of the three breeds of male: the Dramok (leader), Imdiko (caregiver), and Nobek (protector).
Despite their efforts, the numbers of Kalquorians continues to decline. So few children are born now that the most recent estimates conclude the species will go extinct in 300 years. Despite all their medical expertise and attempts to find compatible species to mate with, the Kalquorians seem destined to disappear.
Then less than a decade ago, the inhabitants of a small, isolated planet no one knew of flew into the Galactic Council if Planets’ space. These newcomers, searching for colonies to house their ever-growing population, called their home planet Earth. It was immediately remarked upon how incredibly similar they were to Kalquorians. The doomed race took note at once, and hope was restored. It has even been theorized that perhaps the Earthers were the fabled Lost Tribe of Kalquor’s ancient ancestors.
Earth, however, is not as enthralled with their potential distant cousins. Ruled by a government based on fanatical religious beliefs, Earthers have been taught they are God’s Chosen, made in his wondrous image. They look upon Kalquor with hostility and outrage, particularly since the beleaguered inhabitants of that empire suggested compatibility testing for purposes of interbreeding.
The leaders of the Kalquorian Empire, feeling they had no other recourse, decided the time had come to seduce Earther females and convince them to come to Kalquor. Women on Earth are treated as lesser creatures and second-class citizens by the men, and the Kalquorians with their near-worship of women hope they can entice these lifebringers to join their clans. And if the women will not be seduced, Kalquor is no longer above the distasteful necessity of abducting them outright.
Almost 2000 Earther women have come to Kalquor now, putting the Empire and Earth on the brink of war. This is the story of one of those first women to join the Kalquorians ... a woman with a dangerous secret that will mean her execution if Earth catches her.
Dramok Korkla took a deep breath. With effort, he forced himself to sit still on the plush lounger in his Plasian quarters. He didn’t try to be calm, however. There was no point in that when his heart drummed fiercely, trying to pound a hole as if to escape his chest. Waiting was a bitch on the nerves, especially when one was excited, hopeful, and nervous all at once.
His clanmate Raxstad stood to one side of the lounger, as absolutely still as only a Nobek could be. In the soft light of the floating lighting globes overhead, the huge warrior looked like a boulder with legs and midnight-black dreadlocks. His heavy brow furrowed as he stood silent and still.
Korkla studied the clan protector in the dancing light. Flames crackled from the firepit that sat in the center of the room. The fire moved the shadows over Raxstad’s rough, almost brutish features. One would be foolish to think the man was as thick as his tree-trunk thighs, however. Raxstad was as wily and cunning and resourceful a man as had ever graced Global Security, the law enforcement entity he worked for on the planet Kalquor. Intelligence shared equal space with the feral intensity present in his purple eyes.
The Nobek’s stoic display didn’t have Korkla fooled for one moment, however. Korkla knew Raxstad was every bit as hopeful and anxious as the clan leader. A tendon in his jaw jumped from time to time; his one concession to tension. The fact that Raxstad stood, rather than draping his beefy frame on the other overstuffed lounger or the nearby chair, also spoke to his anticipation.
Their other clanmate Govi didn’t try to hide his agitation. The gentle Imdiko paced back and forth in front of them, his booted feet sinking into the deep white pile of the cushioned flooring. He’d managed to wear a path in the carpet. One could see the circuit he’d made around the firepit, past the waterfall basin, and alongside the dimmed-glass windows that normally looked out over the gardens. And past the door, of course. There Govi always paused, as if listening for steps outside. Even now as Korkla watched, the Imdiko glanced at the door that led to the corridor outside the quarters. Any moment now, they should have their visitor. Or would they?
Govi’s face, as beautifully formed as it was kind, betrayed his anxiety. He knew the stakes better than anyone. He’d worked with traumatized Earther women back on Kalquor. In fact, he had made it his focus as a psychologist. Seeing his concern only worried Korkla more about their chances with the unique lady they waited to meet.
For the third time in the last ten minutes Govi muttered, “Maybe she’s not coming.”
Korkla restrained an urge to grab the Imdiko and make him sit down. “Israla said she is bringing her in the next few minutes.”
“Israla also said the girl has great difficulties with facing others who know what she is. We know.”
“And she told us she’d drug Michaela to get her here if necessary. Calm down, Govi. You’re making me nervous.”
Govi halted in front of Korkla. The clan leader looked up at his clanmate and swallowed. By the ancestors, the man was stunning. With high cheekbones, full lips, and perfect symmetry, Govi’s face was breathtaking. Even filled with angst, he couldn’t help but be beautiful. Korkla quelled the urge to drag his Imdiko down so he could kiss all that perfection.
Ignorant of Korkla’s silent worship, Govi continued to fret. His hands closed and opened.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” he said, as if he wasn’t treated to his own gorgeous countenance every time he glanced in the mirror. His expression lit with wonder as he looked between the other two men.
Raxstad slowly nodded. His broad face lit with real pleasure. It softened his strong features, giving him his own version of attractiveness. His voice a deep rumble in that massive chest, he confirmed, “She’s the loveliest of her kind that I’ve seen.”
Govi’s excitement faded to be replaced once more with worry. “She has so many issues with self-acceptance, though. After what Israla told me, I’m not sure I can help her. I’ve never had to deal with someone with this level of esteem issues.”
Korkla smiled at his concerned clanmate. “You are the best at what you do, my Imdiko. There is no one on Kalquor more qualified to help this poor woman.” He sounded sincere because he was. Govi, unable to settle his own worries, was amazing when handling the agonies of others. It was why he’d been made the head of Earther Matara psychology in the Empire.
Right now, his Imdiko’s emotions ran the gamut. The mild-tempered psychologist actually scowled at Raxstad, an expression rarely seen on Govi’s face. “By the ancestors, how can you be so still? So controlled? It’s like she had no effect on you at all.”
Raxstad arched a heavy brow at him. “You saw very well the effect she had on me.” He snorted and looked at his crotch. Even in the dim light Korkla could see how lively Raxstad felt. The Nobek had enjoyed watching Michaela Blake and Jessica McInness do a presentation of belly dancing. They all had. Korkla could still detect the spicy scent that betrayed their combined arousal.
The Nobek shook his head. “The way she moved. That lush, young body. Mother of All, how could I not react?”
While Raxstad’s arousal didn’t surprise Korkla, it did worry him. His tone tense with warning, he said, “Both of you be calm. On top of everything else, she is an Earther. They are repressed like no other species. Blatant arousal will probably send her screaming from us.”
Govi fretted, “Yet she needs to know we find her attractive. It’s going to take a careful balancing act, my Dramok.”
Korkla’s tension increased at his Imdiko’s words. How were they supposed to do this? He and Raxstad knew nothing about Earthers, and Michaela Blake’s situation was beyond anything Govi had ever encountered.
He forced himself to take another deep, steadying breath. “We will do our best. That’s all we can do.”
But would it be enough to charm a frightened, self-loathing Earther woman? A woman who was also male?
* * * *
Michaela Blake felt as if she floated down the intimately lit corridor of Plasian leader Saucin Israla’s home. It was like drifting in a happy dream, where peace filled the world and something wondrous waited just around a distant corner.
It didn’t matter that the feeling was a falsehood and that Israla drew her towards devastating rejection. The leshella Michaela had drunk had taken away all the tears and terror she’d felt only moments ago. It would dull the coming pain, putting it on the back burner for later ... unless she could convince Israla to give her a lifetime supply of the potent intoxicant.
The Plasian’s long-fingered hand wrapped around Michaela’s. The grip was firm for such a willowy creature. Like the rest of her species, Israla was a tall, slender humanoid. Her flawless skin was bronze. Her hair, instead of the usual olive color of the residents of Plasius, had been dyed in gold and silver hues. Her eyes looked made of black marble with gray and white veins running through them. She was regal and stunning. With her famed appetite for young men of all species, no one would ever suspect Israla was old enough to be Michaela’s great-great-grandmother.
Michaela’s mind was not on her hostess and savior’s age or sexuality. It was on the hopes and fears of what lay ahead. Even with the calming influence of leshella, she knew the awfulness ahead of her.
Her voice seemed to float from her mouth, which made her want to giggle. “You said this is an important clan?”