14. Fourteen

Fourteen

Kira - Above Rothchild

The ruins of Rothchild’s moon drifted into focus, giving those on the bridge of Pallas’s ship their first glimpse of what happened when you blasted just under ten percent of a moon’s mass into space.

A huge chunk had been taken out of its upper half. The crater that had been left behind was so big that it permanently altered the moon’s shape, leaving it malformed.

The explosion that saved the planet from invasion had contained enough force to knock the moon off its former orbit, pushing it closer to the planet itself. A consequence of this was a shift in Rothchild’s magnetic field which had yet to fully stabilize.

It made navigating on the surface difficult. Instruments were notoriously unreliable post moon blast.

The planet’s inhabitants had adapted but those visiting were often caught unawares. It was why only experienced pilots now tried to land on the surface. Without the help of their ship’s navigation, they’d be flying blind.

Lathan moved closer to the window. "How did you survive that?"

Wonder tinged with disbelief was in his expression as he looked at Kira. Like he thought her survival was a miracle so unexpected it should have been impossible.

Kira agreed.

No one should have walked away from that. Particularly her.

Yet she had.

Video of the incident, taken from those ships nearby and the planet below, showed a bright flash coinciding with the moon’s eruption. Her burst. It was likely what saved her life.

Too bad it hadn’t saved Elise and the Curs as well. Or the CSS Vega.

That was what tortured Kira some nights. The thought that she could have saved them if only she’d been better. More skilled.

Pallas’s expression was inscrutable as he flew the ship. "I never figured you for a masochist."

Kira flicked a glance at him. Since his declaration regarding the forty three, they hadn’t really talked. He’d shut her out immediately afterward, treating her to an icy silence that she wasn’t sure she wanted to breech.

There was a chance that this was all a mind game Pallas was playing for some unknown reason. He did have a history.

Something told her he wasn’t lying though. That every word had been the truth as he understood it.

Pallas tilted his head at the window and the planet below. "What down there is so important that you’d be willing to come back here?"

The lenacht perched on Pallas’s shoulder lifted its head, looking at her as if it was wondering about that too.

"Just get us down there, Pallas. That’s all you have to do."

Pallas’s eyes narrowed. "What are you hiding from me?"

Kira’s face was hard as she faced him. "I agreed to let you tag along. Nothing was said about me having to answer your questions."

The moments slipped by as Pallas examined her. It wasn’t until the lenacht chirped and butted its head against his cheek that he relented.

"Have it your way then," Pallas drawled, turning back to the ship’s controls.

Kira didn’t listen to him, occupied with staring out the window at the moon.

Twelve years. Twelve long, agonizing years.

That’s how long it had been since she’d stood on a ship much bigger than this one with Rothchild and its moon glistening orbs below. The last time she was here her life had been knocked off course and her happiness stolen.

How fitting then that the place that had taken everything from her was now the thing that would give it back.

Graydon joined her, his hand brushing hers in a soft caress. "Have you been back since it happened?"

While he waited for her response, Graydon entangled his fingers with hers. An anchor holding her to the here and now.

Kira released a silent breath, shaking away the sad memories.

"Jin ensured we avoided this section of the galaxy."

It wasn’t something they’d ever talked about, but Kira knew he was the reason she’d never received any salvaging missions for the Tsavitee fleet the moon’s blast had destroyed. Just one of the many ways he’d taken care of Kira over the years. Sometimes subtly. Other times more obviously.

Seeing the concern in Graydon’s gaze, Kira understood what he was really asking.

She offered him a tiny smile. "I won’t lie and say I’m okay. Being here—" Her gaze wandered to the window. "It’s a reminder."

But maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. Kira had tried to forget. To run and not look back.

It hadn’t helped.

Sometimes to heal, you had to lance the wound and drain away the pus infecting it.

When she’d decided to block everything from that time period, to wall it up so she didn’t have to deal with the emotional aftermath, she’d also locked away all the good things too.

The little things. Like the way Commander Berry would always hide whenever his XO was on the warpath over the crew burning through their supplies too quick. Or how Walker had a stupid rivalry with Bates over pretty much everything. It had always driven her crazy, but Jin loved it. She was pretty sure he was the instigator behind some of those incidents.

Yes, being here was painful. But it no longer felt so overwhelming.

"Any word from Raider or Wren?" Kira asked in a low voice.

Graydon shook his head. "No, and I’d know if they were in the system."

Kira glanced at his forearm where the comms for his synth armor were located.

"I do not like this. They should have beaten us here," Kira said.

With the detour Pallas had forced on her, she’d expected the Wanderer to be waiting for their arrival. Either in orbit around the planet or already on the surface.

To now hear that they weren’t even in the solar system was worrying. She had a nasty feeling in the pit of her stomach that usually heralded trouble.

"What about the rest of your pod?" Kira asked, referencing the group of oshota who served Graydon. "I know you ordered them to follow at a distance."

An approving gleam entered Graydon’s eyes. "You know me too well."

"Hardly." Kira smirked. "It’s just what I would have done if the situation were reversed."

Graydon moved closer, his voice lowering to a seductive rumble. "Maybe that’s why we work so well together—we’re the same."

"Oh yes. You do seem like the type prone to reckless behavior such as prison breaks involving your people’s sworn enemies. Followed by a virtual suicide mission accompanied by the biggest psycho you know." Kira made a show of looking Graydon up and down. "I always thought there was a rebel inside of there somewhere."

Graydon’s smile was slow. Wicked as heat entered his eyes.

Kira swallowed as his gaze dropped to her lips, all too aware of their audience. Even if Pallas and Lathan weren’t paying any attention to them as they concentrated on preparing the ship for its descent to the planet.

Just the fact that they were present in the room made the tension between Kira and Graydon reach a boiling point.

Especially when Graydon used his grip on her hand to reel her in closer, lifting his other to brush a finger across her cheekbone. The look on his face so incredibly gentle. "For you—I’m willing to be whatever you need. Pirate. Wanderer. Rebel Tuann. You name it."

Kira swallowed hard.

Graydon rested his forehead against hers. "You hold onto that when we’re down there."

"I will," she whispered.

"If you’re done, I suggest you get strapped in. We’ll be landing soon. It’s bound to be a bumpy one,” Pallas said.

Kira drew away from Graydon, her gaze moving to the lenacht still sprawled across Pallas’s shoulders like an intricate scarf.

"Problem?" Pallas asked. He didn’t look in Kira’s direction, just focused on flying the ship.

"I’m still trying to decide," Kira said as the lenacht slipped off Pallas’s shoulders and into his lap where it curled up to sleep.

Pallas finally looked at her. "Well when you do, be sure to let me know."

Kira read the hard look on his face that seemed to warn her away from this avenue of questioning.

"I’ll be sure to do that," she said before taking her leave.

Graydon waited until they were off the bridge to shoot her a look. "What was that about?"

Kira shook her head. "I’m not sure."

The only thing she knew was that the forty three were up to something. And the lenacht was involved in their schemes somehow.

Elena - Tsavitee Planet

Elena and the rest of the children marched into a mammoth room that seemed to run throughout the heart of the spire. She craned her head back, looking up and up to the ceiling far, far above.

Wide stairs on the opposite end of the structure waited, leading to a platform several hundred feet up.

Unerringly, Kai headed toward them.

No one said anything as they reached the stairs and ascended as a unit.

Elena counted—there were a hundred steps to the first landing. Then seven more landings after that.

Overlooking them was a tall window the height of the space. Its immense weight supported by the ornate buttresses that intersected in the center. Light splayed over the steps, tinging everything with an orange glow from the stained glass.

"Eyes down," Ajix ordered.

Elena obeyed, trusting him to know the best way for her to blend in.

They reached the last landing, stepping onto a wide circular platform covered in the same sand found in the crèche’s rock garden. Off to the side, there were several elevated private boxes above, like those you might see in a theater.

Elena cast a furtive look in their direction. The privacy barrier they had in place made it impossible to catch a glimpse of those sitting inside. Though they were definitely occupied. That much she could tell.

Kai stopped in the center of the platform, facing the children. "Today, you will prove your skills. Who is first?"

The children exchanged glances before looking as one in Elena’s direction.

Evidently, they’d decided to target the outsider. After all, this was why they’d ostracized her for the past few days. For this moment. So they wouldn’t feel guilty when they threw her to the wolves.

Kai beckoned her. "Front and center."

Elena pushed her way through the formation, making her way to Kai’s side.

"Do I have a challenger?" Kai asked as Elena faced the rest.

Fyr stepped forward, meeting Elena’s gaze with a flat one of his own. "I’ll do it."

As expected.

The question was whether he would try to knock her unconscious or incapacitate her in some way. A broken arm? Maybe a leg? Either would take her out of the running and drop her to the back of the pack.

As Kai had said—any weaklings would be cast aside.

They probably thought it was better for that to happen to her rather than one of them.

Elena kept her gaze trained on Fyr as he made his way over to her.

Don’t get injured. Don’t stand out too much. And don’t make it obvious you threw the fight.

So many rules. The fight hadn’t even started and she was already exhausted.

"Our exalted ones have let me know this will be a special ranking battle," Kai declared as Fyr faced off with Elena. "They plan to choose an offering from among you. A lucky someone whose contribution to our gods’ work will further the Tsavitee’s dominance on this universe. I wish you well. Remember—the horde has no place for trash."

Offering? Wow. What a nice word for sacrifice.

Fyr’s grip tightened on his staff as his gaze turned unfriendly.

A hush fell over the children. The silence stifling.

Normal children wouldn’t be this quiet before a fight. The children Elena knew would be heckling the fighters and placing bets on the winner. Maybe yelling an encouragement or two. Not watching like soulless robots.

"Begin," Kai ordered before Elena finished moving into a defensive crouch.

Fyr struck, lunging forward without warning.

Elena barely whipped her staff up to protect her head in time. An ache immediately rose in her wrist and hands as the force behind the blow transferred through the staff.

"Someone’s eager," Elena snarled.

If that blow had connected, it would have damaged her skull. Forget something as cute and minor as a concussion. Her face would have needed re-constructive surgery.

Elena parried, shoving him back a step to create a little space.

Fyr circled her. She moved with him, determined not to let him catch her off guard again.

He feinted with his staff, trying to draw Elena out to assess her abilities.

Elena didn’t fall for it, hunkering down in an attempt to give away as little as possible. She analyzed her opponent, doing the same thing he was. Trying to find a weakness she could exploit.

The problem was that he was good. As fast as Tommy but lacking Aunt Kira’s cunning and power.

Fyr attacked again, going from absolute stillness to lethal motion in a split second.

Elena fell for his trap, moving to block his strike to her head only for him to change target at the last second and aim for her leg. She deflected just a beat too slow, redirecting some of the force away to reduce the blow from bone breaking to something a little less painful.

Not by much though, she thought with a grimace as her leg threatened to buckle.

Elena limped backward out of reach, the muscle protesting in a way Elena knew meant it was already bruising.

Careless, El, Elena scolded. Auntie would have made you do extra training for being so reckless.

"What’s the matter, new girl?" Fyr rumbled, speaking for the first time since the fight had begun. "No longer think this is a game?"

Elena gave him her crazy smile. The one she’d practiced in the mirror after seeing it on Aunt Kira’s face a time or two. Usually directly before Auntie did something that left the people around her shaking their heads in disbelief.

"The joke is on you. The moment this is no longer fun is the instant you lose."

And that time was fast approaching.

Elena blocked Fyr’s next attack. And the one after that.

Fyr re-doubled his attacks until the sound of their staffs banging against each other reverberated through the room.

The arrogance on Fyr’s face pissed Elena off. The assumption that he’d automatically win.

All the frustration and fear she’d buried since her arrival bled into the fight, giving her strength as she returned his blows with decisive ones of her own.

Satisfaction filled her when one of her strikes snuck under his guard.

Take that. Who is the easy mark now?

Elena blocked his next head strike. He followed it up with a blow to her torso. Also blocked.

She leaned back almost parallel to the floor to avoid his staff to her face.

She recovered her balance a second later. "You asshole. Were you trying to disfigure me?"

Wreck the adorable features that had convinced Auntie to go against her better judgment on more than one occasion?

She bet that was exactly what he was doing. It wasn’t the first time either. From the very beginning, he seemed to be gunning for it.

Elena didn’t stop to think, attacking Fyr straight on. Anger gave her energy as she rained blow-after-blow on him. Not giving him time to attack. Only defend.

She scrutinized the play of his muscles. His reflexes. The way he responded if she were to do this. Or that.

All the while looking for an opening.

Not to take it. Honest.

She just wanted to prove to herself she could end this if she wanted to.

Elena evaded an attempt to hook the top of his staff around hers in an effort to disarm her.

Instead, she closed the distance, head butting him in the chin.

He stumbled back with a grunt.

An opening.

The surprise on his stupid face made bad habits rear their ugly head. The impulsiveness that so often led her into trouble whispered that she could take it.

One strike and the win would be hers.

Her hands clenched around the staff as the opening started to close. It was now or never. Already, his body was shifting, turning to meet her follow up attack.

Do it, El. He’d do the same to you.

Fyr read her intentions a second before Elena lunged. His staff came up.

She was going to be faster, Elena realized with excitement.

A butterfly sensation brushed across her mind. Easily ignored as she focused on the win.

The lu-ong spawn wrapped around her bicep shifted.

A second later Uncle Jin’s groggy voice sounded in her ear. "Where are we?"

Elena stumbled. "Uncle!"

She forgot the fight for a split second. By the time she realized her mistake, Fyr’s staff loomed large in her vision.

Uncle Jin’s scream sounded in her ear as something seized control of her ki. Either instinct in response to severe danger, Uncle Jin, or some combination of both.

All she knew was that it flooded her veins, a tiny bit leaking into the air around her head.

An instant later, Fyr’s staff collided with her skull.

Kira - Rothchild’s Surface

A cloak was thrust in front of Kira’s face, obstructing her view of the snow covered landscape.

"What’s this?" Kira asked, looking at the item in front of her.

Pallas jiggled the cloak impatiently. "What does it look like? It’s a cloak."

"I can see that. Why are you giving it to me?"

The balial material that made up her clothes was temperature regulating. She didn’t need to worry about freezing to death while wearing it. The parts of her uncovered might experience frostbite. Such as her ears and hands. But gloves and earmuffs would protect her well enough.

"Anti-Consortium sentiment has grown in the last few years. The planet’s inhabitants didn’t appreciate their sacrifices being forgotten and glossed over by the rest of their government. Since you’re the one responsible for the moon, I thought you’d want to keep your identity hidden to avoid pointless fights."

Reluctantly, Kira took the cloak from Pallas, holding it between her thumb and forefinger like it might bite.

With Pallas, you never knew.

He watched her with a tiny smirk on his face as if he found her actions adorable. "I suggest you keep the hood up. The Phoenix is rather famous around here."

Kira’s snarl was silent as he sauntered back into the ship.

Alone, Kira scrutinized the cloth. Except for the fur lining the hood and edges, it looked average. The color a deep green that could be mistaken for black at a distance or in dim light.

Considering that night had already fallen, she’d blend in nicely.

Finding nothing that might pose her harm, Kira settled the cloak over her shoulders. The bottom brushed the tops of her boots.

"It looks good on you," Graydon said, joining her.

Seeing her fiddling with the cloak strings, he moved forward to take over. "Let me."

Kira dropped her hands, letting him help despite being able to do it herself. The worry crouched in the back of his eyes held her back. A distress she wished she could ease.

"Being back here feels strange." Kira lifted her gaze to the sky and the moon whose scars were visible even from the planet’s surface. "Last time I visited this solar system, I left a permanent mark."

How many people could claim that?

Graydon’s fingertips brushed her collarbone as his movements slowed.

"This place has featured in my dreams for so long that the very name of the planet brings forth a flood of emotion. I’ve relived that battle so many times that every moment of it is burned into my memory. All except the one moment that counts."

Kira liked the fact that Graydon didn’t offer her banal words of sympathy. He didn’t say that there was nothing she could have done. That remembering wasn’t important. Everything she’d been told again and again. Instead, he listened. His silence allowing her the freedom to examine her feelings without the pressure of judgment.

"I don’t remember giving the order for the explosion. I don’t remember what came afterward."

And that bothered her. It had always bothered her.

"They were so important to me." Kira glanced up at the stars. "The least I could do was remember their final moments."

Graydon reached for her hand, squeezing it in comfort. "Trauma can affect memory. Your brain’s way of blunting the pain of loss."

"That’s what all the doctors Himoto found for me said as well."

Her mind’s way of protecting her, they claimed.

Kira nodded at the sky. "They’re still up there, you know. No one recovered the bodies."

They’d never even tried. Centcom had other worries after the battle. Salvaging their dead from the debris field during the height of a war wasn’t among them.

Kira glanced at Graydon. "Do the Tuann bury their dead?"

"It varies by House. For Roake, if there are remains recovered, they inter them to the sea."

Somehow that didn’t surprise Kira greatly. They’d built their fortress on a cliff overlooking the ocean. She didn’t think that happened by accident. The fact they were the custodians of the lu-ong’s spawning ground might also have something to do with that.

"The thing all Tuann have in common are their places of remembrance. For instance, the hall of heroes in House Roake."

Kira nodded, remembering the names written on fabric and plastered over a wall in their training facility. Some of those had been faded beyond recognition. While for others, the ink was still legible.

"For the Tuann, it’s the memories we leave behind rather than what happens to our physical remains that we find meaning in," Graydon continued. "On rare occasions, such as when an event leaves a deep scar on the entirety of our race, an etheiri will form. It acts as a repository for our memories, allowing us to revisit important moments. It’s the Mea’Ave’s way of mourning with us. When the grief fades, the etheiri’s form changes. We never forget, but the pain does lessen."

Kira had seen an etheiri on Ta Sa’Riel. The crystalline forest that had formed from the woven memories of those who’d tasted loss during the Sorrowing had been beautiful, if tragic.

She wondered if an etheiri would have formed for Rothchild if humanity had something equivalent.

She’d like to think so.

They’d saved an entire planet. A whole race, if you included the treaty the Haldeel signed with the Consortium after. That was the kind of thing that should be remembered.

Kira kept her gaze trained on the sky. "You know about the burst, don’t you?"

He’d sent Baran to human territory to gather information on her. Even though the records regarding that ability of hers were considered top secret, she didn’t think that would have stopped the oshota.

"We call it the Heaven’s Wrath," Graydon said.

"What a busy little bee Baran’s been."

Himoto would have killed for an agent with his investigatory abilities.

Kira finally looked at Graydon. "Is that ability from my heritage—or Jin’s?"

Graydon didn’t have to speak for her to read the answer on his face.

"Another thing I snatched from him," Kira whispered in defeat.

Graydon took her arm. "That he gave you willingly."

Kira looked away, knowing he had a point. She’d be spitting on Jin’s sacrifice if she continued feeling this way.

"I still don’t understand how things happened the way they did," Kira confessed.

By rights, it should be her soul bound to that drone. Not Jin’s. She’d been the one mortally injured.

"I heard about Jarek reading your memories and think I have a theory to explain what happened," Graydon said.

Kira’s attention swung back to him, her eyebrows climbing.

Graydon held up a small pebble, its color the deep blue of a sapphire. "Do you remember this?"

Kira took it, surprised when a sensation ran up her fingers. "Is this a testing stone? Where did you get this?"

She seemed to remember another stone like this. It had been part of a set in Quillon’s possession that was meant to determine the affinity of a person’s ki. Those traits and abilities that were naturally suited for their soul’s breath.

For instance, Joule tested as Earth Class. A shielder, specifically.

That meant he had an aptitude for defense and why his shields were naturally better than Devon’s, whose affinity lay in a different direction.

It didn’t mean that Devon couldn’t create a shield with the same strength as Joule’s. Just that he would have to work considerably harder.

That was the thing about these tests. Aptitude was only part of the equation. Dedication and hard work were the other parts.

The problem was that some Tuann didn’t see it that way. They thought an affinity determined a person’s potential. It was why Joule had faced difficulty when he first arrived in House Roake. His peers had thought his affinity would limit his usefulness.

Dumbasses.

Anybody with half a brain knew a strong defense was priceless.

His problem was compounded by the fact that traditionally those hoping for a shot at becoming their House’s Overlord possessed those affinities seen as more powerful. Such a mindset pointed to how inflexible the Tuann’s thinking could be.

Aptitude didn’t define potential. And any tool in your arsenal could become a powerful weapon when utilized correctly.

However, there were certain affinities that were rare and unable to be replicated unless you possessed them. That was the case with Kira’s burst, or the Heaven’s Wrath as Graydon called it.

"Quillon gave it to me after explaining how you chose it during your affinity test," Graydon explained.

Kira closed her fist around the stone. "He told me that test was invalid since I was wearing the inhibitor."

His explanation had made sense since the inhibitor interfered with Kira’s access to ki.

Graydon nodded. "That could very well be the case."

Kira’s gaze dropped to the stone as a buzzing sensation nipped at her palm. "But you don’t think it is."

Graydon shook his head, his hand coming up to cover her fist. "It would explain some things."

Kira let him pry open her fingers to reveal the deep blue of the stone.

"Technically, it’s not an affinity," Graydon explained.

Kira’s forehead furrowed in confusion. "How does that work?"

Graydon brushed a finger across the stone’s surface, tickling her palm in the process. "It’s an old folk tale among our people. They say the first among us to receive affinities were like clean slates upon which anything could be written. The shape of their soul was decided based on the experiences they accumulated. A person with a strong desire to defend became a shielder. A person who lived on the battlefield developed more offensive capabilities. They adapted to their circumstances and their soul’s breath with them."

"That doesn’t make sense," Kira said.

Moreover, it totally negated the idea of an affinity.

"That’s why almost no one tests for it anymore. There has never been a confirmed case. The only stories we have about it were based upon the first few Tuann to receive their soul’s breath directly from the lu-ong. It’s mostly considered a legend."

Graydon released Kira’s hand.

She looked down at the stone. "What are you saying?"

"Your potential is entirely influenced by your experiences," Graydon informed her.

"And this is supposed to explain what happened with Jin?"

"Partially," Graydon allowed. "Your desire to survive is a defining trait of yours. As is your protectiveness of others. You went back for Jin despite knowing the likely outcome. That’s enough to form a bond. Based on his physical condition and young age, Torvald doubts Jin could have used the drone’s essence to save you nor could he have transferred your soul. It’s more likely you both would have died in the attempt. Your affinity may have recognized that and lent its help."

"But in the process, it wound up costing him his body," Kira finished.

Graydon inclined his head. "That is my theory."

Kira rolled the stone in her hand, contemplating what Graydon had shared. It was just within the realm of possibility. The desperation and fear they’d both experienced somehow enabling them to do what even the Tsavitee’s masters couldn’t.

The thud of boots against metal announced Pallas and Lathan’s presence as they walked out of the ship.

Pallas threw the cloak he was holding at Graydon’s head. "It may offend your delicate sensibilities, but wear it."

Graydon caught the cloak, preventing it from hitting his face as he leveled a cold look on the other man. Pallas stared, his tiny smirk taunting. Inhaling harshly, Graydon maintained his composure as he swung the cloak over his shoulder without an argument.

Despite getting what he wanted, Pallas didn’t look pleased.

"You owe me money, seon’yer," Lathan observed as he locked up the ship. "You bet me he’d refuse."

"Of course I did," Pallas snarled. "The Tuann are notoriously arrogant. Especially when it comes to their synth armor. Who would have thought an emperor’s Face would deign to cover his pride and joy?"

Kira hid her smile at Pallas’s irritation. It served her brother right for underestimating Graydon.

Pallas refused to drop the matter. "He should have refused."

His gaze wandered to Kira as if blaming her for Graydon acting out of character.

She shrugged in fake sympathy. "I guess you don’t understand the Tuann as well as you thought."

Pallas made a tsking sound. "Unlikely."

He adjusted his own cloak over his sword and sheath, ensuring he’d be able to draw it without a problem.

"What? No hood?" Kira asked snidely.

Finished, Pallas purposely bumped her with his shoulder as he moved past her. "There’s no reason for me to hide my face. I’m not the one they think blew up their moon."

"You always have to have the last word, don’t you?"

Pallas barked out a laugh. "You’re the one still speaking."

Muttering under her breath and unable to argue without proving his point, Kira stomped after him. The Wanderer had better show up soon. She didn’t think this planet was big enough for her and Pallas.