7. FIVE

five

The resulting silence felt oppressive in the enclosed space.

Without facial cues to interpret due to the energy field masking his features, Kira was left without a clue as to what the other was thinking.

Stranger still was the idea that she was standing face-to-face with the man Graydon had sworn his allegiance to. It felt uncomfortably like meeting her significant other’s parents for the first time.

Except this parent was the leader of an entire race.

No pressure or anything. It wasn’t like her entire future and that of Jin’s rested on his good will or anything.

Into the awkward silence the emperor held up the welding torch for her to see. “This is a primitive tool.”

There was tinny echo to his words that would make his voice unrecognizable even to those familiar with him.

“Watch.” The emperor picked up a sheet of unused metal that Kira had been using to patch the hull. A dagger flashed, opening a tear the length of her forearm as Kira bit back her instinctive objection.

Quality materials suited for the inhospitable environment of space weren’t easy to come by. Nor were they cheap.

It didn’t help that the Wanderer tended to see more than its share of damage. The ship attracted trouble in the same way its owners did, stressing Kira’s already finite supply.

The emperor pretended not to hear her as he drew two fingers along the tear, fusing the metal in a nearly invisible line.

Fascinated in spite of herself, Kira stepped forward to run a finger along the tear. She was barely able to feel the raised ridges.

“You should be using your soul’s breath for these types of repairs. It allows for a more even distribution of molecules, making for a stronger weld.”

That was easy for him to say. He didn’t know what it was like to feel himself dying a little bit more each time he tapped into his power. The sensation of thorn-filled vines wrapping themselves around her organs, pulling tighter and tighter until it was difficult to breathe.

Kira didn’t know if she’d ever be capable of such casual use of her soul’s breath.

Jin cleared his throat through the ship’s speakers. “Testing, testing.”

Kira and the emperor looked up.

“Welcome aboard the Wanderer. I am Jin and I will be your pilot today. Please note that the ride may be a tad bumpy. Seats are interspersed throughout the ship for your comfort but will do jack shit to save you should we crash.”

The ship’s engines growled to life. A faint jolt came as the station’s docking beam retracted.

“Ah—I would like to remind those who forced their way onto our ship that we are not liable for any mental or physical distress that you may experience during the journey. Barf bags are located in the latrines. Thank you and please don’t die.”

The speakers crackled as they cut out.

“That is an interesting way of welcoming strangers aboard,” the emperor observed. “Almost like your passengers aren’t welcome at all.”

Kira flashed him a humorless smile. “If you wanted politeness, you’re on the wrong ship.”

He’d find none of that here.

“I’m heading for the bridge,” Kira continued, heading for the corridor to her right. “Do me a favor and keep your face shield up while you’re here.”

“Afraid someone on board will betray your confidence?”

“More like, I don’t want to deal with the questions.”

Kira was a lazy person at heart. If she could avoid unnecessary trouble, she would.

Besides, something told her she’d have more than enough problems on her plate once they landed without adding the complexity of the emperor’s presence to the mix.

The longer she could delay others knowing about him, the less explaining she’d have to do. Simple as that.

Kira headed for the bridge that served as the ship’s brain, the emperor following. Briefly, Kira thought about deterring him before giving up on the idea.

She didn’t know too many emperors, but she was familiar with those accustomed to power. Trying to tell someone like that they couldn’t do something was the height of futility. They’d do it anyway.

Better to save her energy for more useful pursuits

“How is it looking?” Kira asked as she stepped onto the bridge.

Raider was preoccupied with the monitor as he went through the final flight checks prior to departure. Finn stood in the corner of the room, gazing at the dock outside the window.

At Kira’s question, he looked over. A scowl took up residence on his face as he glared at the man behind her.

Kira held up a hand to forestall the argument she could sense brewing. “Blame Graydon. This was his idea.”

As her oshota, Finn took her safety seriously. He didn’t like the unexpected.

Unfortunately for him, Kira was the epitome of surprise. She didn’t have to go looking for trouble. It always found her.

That fact made Finn a tad grumpy and prone to believing that she was the cause when things went wrong.

To be fair, she usually was.

Finn didn’t look happy at her explanation but he didn’t argue with her as she made her way to the copilot seat next to Raider.

Kira jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Up.”

Jin didn’t move from the seat he’d chosen as his perch. “There are two other unoccupied seats. Why do you have to have this one?”

Kira bared her teeth at him. “Because it’s mine. Skedaddle.”

The two stared at each other for one long, drawn moment before Jin conceded the battle.

He rose from the chair. “Fine, but remember one of these chairs is mine during re-entry.”

The emperor peered over Kira’s shoulder in curiosity as she slid into the spot Jin vacated. Her hands flew over the controls as she checked the systems.

“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.”

Kira understood what he was saying. Without the ki that its wielder inserted into the en-blade, its efficiency might go down but it could still cut. The akieri couldn’t make the same claim. Without a constant input of ki, it was nothing but a hunk of pretty metal.

“Sounds perfect for you, Kira,” Raider said from his position at the counter as he finished preparing his coffee. He tossed the spoon he’d used to stir in the creamer and sugar that weren’t Kira’s into the sink before heading in her direction.

“I’m heading to the bridge. For what it’s worth, I think Maksym did a nice job,” Raider said, sweeping a glance over the kitchen. “You should keep it this way.”

Raider took a sip of his coffee, making a pleased expression before ambling out.

Torvald stepped into the kitchen. “I was told your connection with others was tenuous but that doesn’t seem to be the case.”

“No, you were told right. I resist anyone getting close,” Kira admitted, following him. She could see the confusion though. “Raider has the advantage of knowing me longer than most.”

Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t pretend at a distance with him. Their history made that impossible.

“And Maksym is Maksym.”

The oshota was one of those rare specimens who was even more stubborn than Kira. He’d determined he would be the big brother she’d never had and no amount of resistance on her part would deter him.

Kira might have a lot in common with a porcupine, bristling anytime someone got close, but even she had her limits.

Resisting Maksym had proven more tiring than previous comrades. She’d found it easier to give in on some things. Besides, his training was helpful. Kira’s control of her soul’s breath had improved by leaps and bounds under his guidance.

“I’ve heard the stories.” Torvald dragged a chair out from the table and took a seat as Kira crossed to the new counters.

She fished through them until she found what she was looking for. Two packets of freeze-dried chai. They were from a brand she didn’t normally buy because of how expensive it was. Maksym must have added it to her stash.

Though she wondered how he knew it was her favorite human drink.

She found the cups on her second try, grabbing two and dumping the mixes in before adding hot water.

Finished, she carried the mugs over to the table and set one in front of Torvald.

Kira sat and wrapped her fingers around her own mug, studying Torvald as he simply looked at the cup that she’d given him.

In retrospect, it probably hadn’t been the best idea to offer a man hiding his identity a drink that would require him to remove his face shield.

To her surprise, Torvald picked the cup up, examining the liquid inside for a moment before lifting the cup to his face. The lip of the cup penetrated the energy field as he took a sip.

“Interesting flavor,” he remarked, the cup reappearing in its entirety as he lowered it.

Kira’s nod was distracted. “That’s one way to put it.”

The energy field masking his face was permeable. Kira wondered if that was by the emperor’s control or if anything could penetrate the field.

Kira set her cup on the table in front of her. “I’m assuming we’re not here to talk about my choice in beverages.”

Torvald paused with his cup half raised to his mouth. “True.”

“Then regale me. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Torvald gestured to the empty space at Kira’s right. “We’ll get to that. First—why don’t we ask your friend to join us? He must be tired of all his sneaking around by now.”

Kira stilled. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. We’re alone in here.”

“Oh? Are you certain of that?” There was a challenge in Torvald’s voice that told her she wouldn’t like the consequences of lying further to him.

And here Kira was hoping he wouldn’t pick up on Jin’s presence. What a futile hope that was. This was the man who had a hand in shaping Graydon into the person he was today, after all. Kira suspected he didn’t miss much.

With a sense of defeat, she glanced at the spot containing the small presence she recognized as Jin’s.

A sigh filled the air. Jin’s camouflage fell as his sphere became visible. “How did you know?”

“I would be a fool if I didn’t recognize when our own technology was being used against me.” Torvald nodded at the spot next to Kira. “Join us. As fun as it’s been to watch you attempt to spy on me over the past few weeks, that game is at an end.”

The look Kira gave Jin held reproach. “Tell me you didn’t.”

Jin cleared his nonexistent throat. “I’ll explain later.”

He’d better. He’d need the best explanation he could muster. Of all the hair-brained schemes he’d embarked on over the years, this one was at the top.

“Now that you have what you wanted, perhaps you can answer my previous question.” Kira glared at Torvald, already fed up with the games. “What do you want?”

The ship jolted.

Kira crashed to the floor. A burst of pain shot through her as her ship was dyed in red.