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“Do you believe I think you less heroic for having been wounded in mind as well as body, my son?” he asked.
“I’m no hero. Look at me. I see shadows everywhere, I cry like a baby for no good reason—”
“You cry like a warrior who’s lived through the worst. A part of you still lives there, which breaks my heart. But it doesn’t reduce you in my view.”
“How can it not? A Dramok is supposed to be calm and strong no matter what, ready to lead.”
Codab stroked his hair. “A Dramok embodies the characteristics of a born leader, it’s true, but in the end, he’s still a man. Just as a Nobek, for all his bravery, is a man. When we encounter severe trials, the best of us can falter.”
“My son, what you confronted we can’t know, because it’s been designated top secret by the fleet. But it’s obvious what happened to you, most Dramoks and Nobeks haven’t had to contend with.” Gruthep held his gaze. “All we’ve been told was your ship was destroyed and the rest of the crew perished on board. You not only survived, but you sent a warning, which I was able to pass on to the fleet.”
“That was then. Since I was rescued, I’ve been a child, jumping at every little sound.” Ilid wanted to look away, but Gruthep’s eyes had somehow trapped his.
“Don’t you wonder how we knew to tell you to breathe? How we were able to show you?” Gruthep asked, his gaze steady.
“Someone else has suffered in this family. Someone who survived incredible trauma,” Jadel said.
Ilid stared at his Nobek father. “Not you?”
It wasn’t possible. Gruthep was strength incarnate. Had it been him to face the Darks and return home, he would have cursed them or laughed at their puny attempts to stop him. He wouldn’t be on the floor, forcing his parents to hold him together.
Nonetheless, his imposing parent offered a grim smile. “When I was young and in the military, long before you were born, the ship I served on was disabled and boarded by Tragooms. We were outnumbered, and those they didn’t kill in the battle, they put in stasis fields. They ate my crewmates, one by one, while they were still alive. I could do nothing but wait, frozen and helpless, for my turn. Only the arrival of a destroyer saved me and a dozen others from my vessel.”
“It was years before the nightmares ended for him.” Diju swiped at tears as she gazed in pride at Gruthep. “Sometimes, to this day, they return.”
“As they did when I knew you were in trouble, but I couldn’t go to you.” A muscle twitched in Gruthep’s jaw. “It was me being coached to breathe by my clanmates, to push the horror aside.”
Ilid was in shock, both at what his father had endured as a younger man and that he continued to have moments when the past rose to remind him. “But you’re so strong. Invincible.”
Gruthep laughed and hugged him. “My son, I’m honored and embarrassed you regard me as such. Every father wants to be a hero to his child, but it isn’t serving you if you think of yourself as less.” He regarded Ilid seriously again. “There is no shame in being hurt, no disgrace in tears from your pain, no dishonor in near-death haunting you. There is only summoning the will to go on as best you can for the sakes of those who love you.”
Nobeks never spoke of love for other men, including their sons. Gruthep doing so meant he was either too little a warrior to protect Ilid…or he indeed loved him too much to avoid saying so.
Or perhaps he declared it because he felt it was the only weapon he held against the terror ripping Ilid apart.
Chapter Six
Hobato isn’t as he seems.
Tranis frowned at the text message, which had been delivered to his private com. He checked the frequency of the sender, but there was no contact information. It wasn’t even blocked…the message simply shimmered on the holographic vid view, showing no signature of origin. Tranis wouldn’t be able to reply to ask who’d sent it, because there was no contact to respond to.
He read the full message for the third time, trying to wrap his head around it:
Hobato isn’t as he seems. Haven’t you noticed a difference? Aren’t you concerned the head of the Kalquorian fleet is no longer himself? You should be.
Tranis’ heart hammered. The questions he’d avoided considering lately about the rear admiral’s resistance to sending spies to check on the heads of the Galactic Council, to send a forensics team to thoroughly investigate the extermination of Bi’is, to run tests on those working on the space station orbiting Earth II…they erupted in his head with a vengeance.
He clicked his personal com to contact Lidon, using his clanmate’s private frequency as well. “My Dramok?” the deep voice replied, no doubt discerning the use of private units meant they weren’t conversing as admiral and agent.
“Do you have a moment to stop in?”
“On my way now.”
Lidon hadn’t been given a spy assignment since guarding Piras. Many agents were sitting idle these days despite an earlier push to hire more.
Before Hobato started acting strangely.Tranis read the anonymous message again and licked suddenly dry lips. The only division actively using their new hires was Piras’ group on Earth II.
Lidon stepped in, his brow lifted in silent question. Tranis turned on his sound-canceling device and ordered the door locked. Lidon’s other brow rose.
