Facets of Revolution, page 7
“Why does a machine insist on a chair?”
The question came out of nowhere.
Kira’s movements paused as Raider shot her a glance before busying himself with a task she knew he could do blindfolded.
“All loose items are secure during re-entry,” Kira answered. “It’s safer that way.”
It was a lie, but Kira didn’t think telling the emperor of Jin’s irrational fear of a crash landing would go over so well. Right now, the Tuann thought Jin was nothing more than an advanced artificial intelligence. Kira wanted to keep it that way.
“The ship is ready for departure. All systems are green. We have clearance from the Tuann station,” Jin said in an emotionless voice, falling into the role of a soulless drone like he had countless times in the past when someone had questioned his too-human personality.
Kira fell into the familiar rhythm. “Are all passengers accounted for?”
“There are nine souls on board.”
“Nine?”
Surprise moved through Kira. There should be more than that.
Kira’s seon’yer, Wren, along with the rest of his pod had been a constant presence on the Wanderer throughout their return journey. For them to be missing at the most crucial stage was unlike him.
Raider leaned in her direction. “I forgot to tell you. Wren had a few things to take care of. He said they’d meet us on planet.”
What could be more important than safe-guarding Elena?
“He did leave Maksym behind, however,” Raider added.
Ah. Great.
The overly chipper oshota had been Kira’s training partner recently. The man was so damn smiley all the time. That, if nothing else, put her on guard against him.
Nobody deserved to be that happy outwardly. Nobody.
Raider’s grin said he was enjoying her reaction. “Sorry, Nixxy. You’ll just have to get along with him for the duration of this ride.”
Not if Kira had anything to say about it. The Wanderer was equipped with several handy air locks. Perfect for tossing an overgrown male behemoth out of them.
The only trick was getting him there.
“Remember, Phoenix,” Jin crowed. “We arrive with the same number we departed with. Your rules.”
Damn it. This was the drawback of traveling with people who knew you so well. They could tell when you were plotting.
Kira switched to manual control with a little more force than was necessary. The Wanderer purred as the engines cycled. They lifted smoothly off the platform, hovering in place as Kira pointed the nose of the ship at the view of space.
“Wait a minute, Kira.” Jin sounded distracted as he zoomed toward Kira, stopping next to her head. “Something is strange.”
Seconds later, the wail of the proximity alerts interrupted.
Raider stopped what he was doing to look up. “That doesn’t mean what I think it means, does it?”
“If that something is an object hitting the ship, then yes, it’s exactly what you think,” Jin returned.
The alerts continued to sound as Finn and the emperor moved closer.
The monitor next to Kira looked like it was having an epileptic seizure as streams of data ran across it, too fast to decipher what was appearing until it stopped on a diagram of the Wanderer. Red marks highlighted the belly of the ship.
“That’s the problem,” Jin said as the red marks flashed.
“Finn, head to the lower decks to check that out,” Kira ordered.
Finn sent her a serious nod before disappearing through the hatch.
“It’s probably nothing,” Raider said.
Kira nodded. “Let’s not take chances though.”
The two shared a look of mutual understanding.
Raider threaded his hands behind his head as he stretched out in his chair. “Fair enough. It’s not like your paranoia hasn’t saved us in the past.”
The proximity alerts hit a new pitch as a shape blocked out the stars, sliding over the topside of the Wanderer and out into space.
“Son of a—“ Raider started as his hands dropped from behind his head and he sat forward.
“Here comes another,” Jin warned.
A second ship followed the first, cutting over in a narrow miss.
“These people are idiots,” Jin hissed, sounding enraged.
Kira yanked back on her throttle, sending the Wanderer roaring forward as she threatened to ram the other ship.
The Tuann vessel veered, listing to the side in its hurry to avoid them.
“You’re so mean.” Jin couldn’t hide his delight at that fact.
“Kira, I’m at the lower decks. I don’t see anything that is cause for concern,” Finn announced over the comms.
“Just what I wanted to hear,” Kira said.
With nothing holding her back, Kira narrowed the distance between the two ships.
Chicken was a game she hadn’t played since she was an ensign, but if they wanted to have fun, she’d indulge them.
Her comms squawked as the other ship hailed them.
Kira ignored them; her hand steady as she guided her ship toward the open space just beyond the Tuann vessel.
“Adjust your vector upwards by two degrees,” Jin instructed.
Kira obeyed, the ship responding as easily as if it had read her thoughts.
Raider cursed as they closed on the other vessel.
“Ten meters. Five,” Jin said, counting the distance left.
The Wanderer was relentless as it bore down on the other, forcing it to choose between running aground on the deck or risking a collision with her ship.
In the end, the Tuann vessel chose to crash into the deck, scraping its belly along the ground in a way Kira knew would leave a mark on both station and ship.
Jin crowed in victory as the Wanderer’s nose penetrated the membrane separating the station from space. They slid through with barely a hitch.
“Was that wise?” the emperor asked from where he’d been silent until now.
Kira shrugged as she turned control of the ship over to Jin. “Probably not.”
In truth, it would have been better not to pick a fight that would distract from her reasons for returning to the planet.
“It was fun though,” Jin interjected.
The emperor’s attention never left Kira. “Then why?”
Kira rose from her seat, taking a moment to stretch. “They thought I could be bullied. I taught them otherwise.”
Raider propped an elbow on the arm of his chair. “You always did favor a scorched Earth policy when it came to this sort of thing.”
“I’ve found it best to start as I mean to go on,” Kira explained.
It was better for the Tuann to learn the type of person they were dealing with now rather than later. As dangerous as this stunt was, the lesson might cut down on the future body count.
The Tuann were a violent race. Even during times of peace, their lives revolved around challenges for power and dominance. It was one of the reasons they had so many rules regarding their behavior.
It was to keep them from ripping each other’s heads off for no reason.
It was a facet of her birth race that Kira understood. Inactivity and boredom had always been dangerous companions for her, leading her to seek out trouble on more than one occasion.
Now that they’d challenged her and lost, it would be a while before they tested her again.
It was a tad reckless, but that was life. You got nothing without a bit of risk.
“You understand us better than expected for one who has spent such a short time in our company,” the emperor mused.
Kira tensed for a split second before forcing herself to relax. Ignoring the emperor’s words, she tapped Raider on the shoulder. “You’ve got the command. I’m heading to the mess hall for a drink.”
“Bring me back a coffee,” Raider instructed.
Kira pulled a face. “You know I don’t keep that nasty stuff on my ship.”
Humans and the Tuann didn’t share the same taste buds. Whereas Kira wouldn’t wish that bitter, dirt tasting sludge on her worst enemy, humans craved it.
She’d been threatened with bodily harm on more than one occasion when Raider and the rest of the Curs ran out.
“That’s why I added my own stash,” Raider called at her back as the emperor followed her into the corridor.
“Be careful. The emperor wants something,” Jin warned through their internal comms.
“Like I couldn’t guess that for myself,” Kira muttered.
Torvald glanced at her. “What was that?”
“Nothing.”
Absolutely nothing.
And that was how it needed to stay.
Torvald peered over Kira’s shoulder into the tiny nook that she had remodeled to serve as her kitchen for her former crew of two.
More of a closet than anything, it contained the bare minimum. A few cabinets that acted as storage for the pre-made meal packets and nutrient solutions. A sink for any dishes she might have. A wave heater to warm up her food on those rare occasions she actually took the time to sit down for a meal.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but this does not look like a kitchen,” Torvald observed.
Kira took a deep breath. “No, it does not.”
Gone were her sad looking table and its pair of chairs. It was replaced by weapons cabinets that lined one entire wall. Her guns were arranged in neat little lines inside. Everything securely in place.
The crates containing her ammo and other demolition paraphernalia were stacked to one side.
That wasn’t all Kira found as she opened one of the weapons lockers. Tuann weapons were stashed inside. She selected a zuipi from the open locker, holding it up to inspect.
The zuipi didn’t look like much, resembling a bastardized version of a bow sans string. Kira had seen it in action enough times to know how formidable it could be in the hands of someone who knew how to use it.
Soul’s breath was required to operate the zuipi, enabling the wielder to shoot something that Kira described as energy arrows. Only these arrows could penetrate human armor and many types of metal.
“Jin, is there something you would like to tell me?” Kira asked in a carefully controlled voice, conscious of Torvald’s curious gaze on her.
Kira bared her teeth when the line crackled with a conspicuous silence. Jin didn’t really think he was fooling her, did he? The ship was as much his creation as hers. He had this thing wired with microphones and other sensors that enabled him to listen in on conversations anywhere in the ship.
Kira had drawn the line at cameras, not wanting to feel like an animal in a zoo, but she’d conceded on the listening devices.
She’d been a very different person in the early days after her coma. She’d walked a little too close to the edge, taking chances that were almost suicidal. Jin had needed a way to check on her while letting her wallow.
This had been their compromise.
With Torvald’s presence, there was no way he was keeping his distance—which meant he was ignoring her.
“Very well.” Kira turned on her heel, marching toward her former armory. “If you’re going to be like that, I’ll figure it out for myself.”
If in the process she was forced to maim someone for having the audacity to touch her ship, that was too bad.
Torvald trailed behind Kira as she made the short trip, reaching her destination in less than two minutes.
She stopped abruptly on the threshold of what should have been her armory, only to find it restored to the functionality it possessed when Kira first bought the ship.
No, Kira took that back. It was far nicer than the kitchen the ship had back then.
A stove and oven that looked of Tuann origin was surrounded by beautiful cabinets; the likes of which Kira had never seen on a ship. Made from a weathered wood, the kitchen looked like something that belonged in a cozy cottage.
A table took up the middle of the room. Far larger than her original and built to accommodate a decent sized group of people.
Kira suspected an artisan had crafted that table. It was too beautiful to be something that was mass produced.
The entire kitchen was far grander than a ship like the Wanderer deserved. Hell, it was nicer than many kitchens she’d been in on most planets.
“Oh good. You’re finally here. What do you think?” a voice asked from behind her.
Kira looked over her shoulder to find a Tuann giving her a wide, friendly smile that begged for praise. Raider lurked in the hallway beyond him, a hand raised, not quite covering the snicker she could see forming.
Kira glared at her friend. “Weren’t you the one who told me to bring you a coffee?”
“I figured this would be faster.”
Yeah, sure he did. It had nothing to do with witnessing first hand her reaction.
Kira’s gaze shifted to the Tuann who was soon to be renamed as the bane of her existence. Maksym was considered short by Tuann standards, though still taller than Kira and Raider. What he lacked in height he made up for in the width and breadth of his shoulders.
His orange hair stuck up in tufts, making him seem almost harmless. Charming even. Like a giant puppy bouncing around for attention.
Kira knew better. This was the same person who’d subjected her to marathon long training sessions where he basically pounded her into the ground while never once losing his smile.
“Marvelous, isn’t it?” Maksym nodded at the redone kitchen.
“That’s not how I would phrase it.”
There were certain things you never touched on a ship that wasn’t yours. The armory was foremost among them. Let alone relocate rooms.
Maksym slunk close, wrapping Kira in a bear hug before she could dodge. For such a muscular man, he was quick on his feet. Maksym rubbed his cheek against the top of Kira’s head. “Grump Grump. Don’t be so dour. You know your closet couldn’t continue to accommodate everyone. This was the best solution.”
Kira squirmed, trying to break free of his grip. She slapped at his hands and arms. When that didn’t work, she aimed a kick at the side of his knee.
Maksym turned with the blow, never once losing that annoyingly amiable smile.
Sick of that expression, Kira planted a hand on the side of his face and shoved.
“How many times have I told you not to call me Grump Grump? It’s Kira. Phoenix on occasion. Nix or Nixxy, if you’re dear to me.”
Which at the moment, Maksym was not.
Raider skirted past them in the hallway, entering the kitchen. “Don’t forget Nixxy Poo.”
Kira pointed at Maksym in warning. “No. Don’t ever call me that. I hate that name.”
Enough to stab the next person who used it. Over and over again.
Maybe, then finally, people would get it through their heads how bad of an idea it was to use it.
Maksym allowed Kira enough room to wiggle out of his hold. “But Grump Grump, your name is appropriate since you are so very grumpy.”
Raider looked over his shoulder as he started his coffee. “He has a point.”
“Shut it,” Kira snapped back. To Maksym, “Put my kitchen back the way you found it.”
Maksym rubbed his square jaw. “I’m disappointed you don’t like my present but if that’s how you feel, I can return it to the dreary state I found it in.”
“Great.”
Now that the issue with the kitchen had been resolved, Kira could focus on other matters. Like figuring out why the emperor was really here.
“Of course, you’ll have to do something for me first,” Maksym drawled.
Kira should have known nothing would be easy where the oshota was involved.
“This is my ship. I shouldn’t need to jump through hoops to have my orders followed.”
“True, but this is a gift. One you wish to return. That requires a toll be paid.”
“A gift I didn’t ask for,” Kira pointed out.
“You could always return the rooms to their original state yourself,” Maksym suggested, regarding Kira with the steady gaze she recognized from training with him. If he said he wouldn’t help, he meant it.
Kira could force the issue. When it came to physical skills, they were evenly matched. Unfortunately, Maksym was much more skilled when it came to fusing soul’s breath into his fighting style.
A battle between them could easily get out of hand and threaten the structural integrity of her ship.
“Let’s hear it,” Kira said, giving in. For now, anyway.
Maksym should just wait. Soon they wouldn’t be stuck inside a metal can and she could go as crazy as she wanted.
They’d see then whose will was stronger.
Maksym motioned for her to hold out her hand. When she did, he set a smooth, oblong shape the length of a sword’s hilt in her palm.
“What’s this?” Kira asked, frowning at the item.
She squeezed, the smooth surface biting into her hand. The grip was surprisingly comfortable. As if it had been created with the size of her hands in mind.
Maksym took the hilt from her as a soft glow ran through the tiny grooves she hadn’t noticed before. Fine lines raced across the surface. Metal unraveled, a sword extending from the hilt, the same glowing lines that were on the hilt wrapping along the metal of the sword’s length as well.
“When you can do this, I’ll return the kitchen to its original state.” Maksym flicked his wrist, the sword disappearing into the hilt as if it had never been. “That is if you still want me to by then.”
He returned the hilt to her hand as Kira stared at it in surprise.
“What is this? Is this a type of en-blade?” Kira lifted her head to find Maksym disappearing down the corridor. “Wait. Aren’t you going to explain how you did that?”
Torvald leaned over, plucking the hilt from her hand. “I haven’t seen one of these in years. Not since I was a yer’se.”
Golden lines threaded through the metal as it extended into a sword a little longer than Kira’s arm.
Torvald admired his work before dismissing the sword.
“It’s not an en-blade. It’s something much rarer but just as good.” Torvald handed the hilt back to Kira. “The akieri has fallen into disuse because of the amount of control and concentration you need to operate it. Most warriors prefer the en-blade because it can be used even when you’re low on ki.”
