“You have no idea.”
“Can you make a rajalta?”
Lhyn reached up to pull two cups out of a wooden rack. “No, more’s the pity. Next time you go to Whitesun, bring back a crate of those toasted seeds. Ekatya will be your friend for life.” She paused as she set the cups next to the dispenser. “It says a lot that she sent you after me and not anyone from her own staff.”
Rahel had hoped she wouldn’t think of that. “Captain Serrado knows how to use her resources.”
“Yes, but she also doesn’t know who to trust.” Lhyn activated the dispenser, and the familiar whooshing sound filled the kitchen. “I think you’re going to be busy over the next few days.”
10
Target practice
Ekatya was not good at having nothing to do.
Her security chief was handling the investigation, Dr. Wells had taken the would-be assassin into surgery, and Rahel was guarding Lhyn, leaving Ekatya with no plausible means of involvement. She had managed a short diversion on the bridge, overseeing the shuttle retrieval and putting the Phoenix back on course for their next rendezvous. They would be meeting the cargo ship Tutnuken, which was carrying defender mines for the Alsean base space exit point.
But now they were underway, everything was running smoothly, and Commander Lokomorra had thrown her off the bridge. Respectfully, of course—her executive officer was always respectful, even while couching it in informal language. He reminded her that she had left him in charge, observed that he was fully capable of overseeing operations when the ship was doing nothing more than transiting, and gently suggested that her tension might be contagious to the rest of the bridge crew.
She could argue none of these and returned to her quarters, where the door opened to reveal Lhyn seated at the dining table, the chair opposite her tipped onto its back, and Rahel standing in front of Lhyn, phaser out and ready.
“Oh,” Ekatya said weakly. “I should have told you I was coming.”
“And deny me the chance to see how fast she moves? My stars,” Lhyn said, watching Rahel deactivate the phaser and set it on the table. “I didn’t even have time to be nervous.”
“I did,” Rahel muttered.
“I’m sorry, I really wasn’t thinking.” Ekatya crossed the room and righted the chair. “Hope I didn’t take too many years off your life.”
“Only a few.” Rahel thumped a fist against her chest. “Captain.”
“Settle,” Ekatya said in High Alsean, and enjoyed the startled expression. Her First Guard had not expected her to know that command.
Good. It was nice to be able to surprise an empath. At least, intentionally.
“You’re in my quarters,” she added. “This is the one place on my ship where I don’t want to be the captain.”
“Yes, Cap—um.” Rahel looked panicked.
“You could call her Ekatya,” Lhyn said with a wicked smile.
“No, I don’t think I can.”
Ekatya wasn’t ready for that, either. “Captain is fine. Just leave the military expectations outside the door.”
“With respect, Captain, I’m here with military expectations.”
“True, but only regarding Lhyn. Not me.”
“It’s like watching a pair of tribal representatives negotiate. Would you two sit down?” Lhyn gave them three seconds to get comfortable before demanding, “What do you know?”
“Not enough.” Ekatya took out her hair clip and set it on the table next to the phaser, then ran her fingers through her hair. It was a nervous habit that helped her think, one she had never noticed until Lhyn pointed it out.
There were disadvantages to being partnered with an anthropologist.
“Is he DOP?”
“That comes under the ‘not enough’ category. He came aboard with that last batch of troopers at Station Erebderis. He has a perfect record with Fleet and no known associations with the DOP. His Fleet record says his name is Warrant Officer Erik Helkenn, but Commander Cox doesn’t believe it. I’m inclined to agree with him, disturbing as that is.”
“Why is that disturbing?” Rahel asked.
Ekatya looked at her in surprise, then nodded. “Right, you spent most of your career using an alias. It’s disturbing because that sort of deception shouldn’t be possible in Fleet. How powerful is this man that he managed such a high-level set of falsified records?”
“He didn’t feel powerful,” Rahel said thoughtfully. “He was too excited. Maybe he was like me. I couldn’t create my second set of records, but I worked for someone who could.”
“That’s the truly disturbing part. Anyone who could do that would be as powerful in our system as Prime Warrior Shantu was in yours.”
“Well, what has he said?” Lhyn wanted to know. “Didn’t Commander Cox question him?”
“He tried. Dr. Wells wouldn’t allow it. Something about him barely being able to breathe, let alone talk.” Ekatya caught Rahel’s eye. “That was some move. I didn’t even see you draw your stave.”
“It was an easy shot.” Her tone was dismissive. “It’s hard to miss the sternum.”
“You were specifically aiming there?”
“Of course. I hit where I aim.”
On anyone else, that might have been a boast. After seeing Rahel in action, Ekatya suspected it was a mere statement of fact.
“Then why not his arm?” she asked.
“That would have knocked out one arm but left him in play. I didn’t know what he had on his belt. There could have been another weapon.”
“You’re taught to target the center body mass, then.” Not seeing the expected comprehension, Ekatya drew an illustrative circle around her own torso. “We’re taught to aim here. It’s the largest target guaranteed to have stopping power. And easier to hit than the head.”
“That’s not a big target, that’s at least six small targets. Sternum, heart shot, ribs above the lungs—”
“You really were aiming for his sternum?”
“She just said she was.” Lhyn reached out with a look of distaste and pushed the phaser to the far side of the table.
“Yes, but I thought . . . how small a target can you hit that way?”
“I used to practice with cinteks.”
“You practiced hitting small coins.” Ekatya could not stop her grin. “This I have to see.”
“I don’t have any cinteks here—”
“Don’t worry.” Ekatya was out of her chair and halfway to the bedroom. “I have something about the same size.”
She returned with the soft pouch holding her kasmet game pieces, a gift from her grandfather and one of the few things she had carried away from the wreck of the Caphenon. The little squares clattered softly as she pulled one out and set it upright on the table’s edge. “Can you hit that?”
“Of course.”
“Forget the tribal representatives,” Lhyn said. “I should have said eight-year-olds.”
“Just because you don’t value strike accuracy doesn’t mean it’s childish.” Rahel rose from her chair.
“I didn’t mean it like—wait, you’re going to do it?” Lhyn shoved back her chair and popped up as if it were on fire. “I’m getting on the other side of the room.”
“Good idea,” Rahel said, looking past the game piece to the wall. “It’ll ricochet.” She pulled her stave and activated it.
Ekatya, who had been opening her mouth to say Go ahead, saw nothing but a blur. She didn’t see Rahel aim or take even a second to judge distance. It was an instantaneous movement, a sound of sliding metal, and a pop, ping as the game piece vanished from the table and bounced off the wall.
Rahel lunged to the side, hand outstretched. Retracting her stave, she opened her hand and revealed the wooden square.
“Stars and Shippers! That is . . .” Ekatya could find no words.
“Not a real challenge.”
“Not a challenge? You didn’t even brush the table!”
“Sure, but it was a stationary target. Op
ponents don’t usually stand still and let me aim.” Rahel gave the piece back to Ekatya. “Mouse—um, my old friend, he used to make me turn around before he put the cintek on our table. So I wouldn’t know where it was.”
Ekatya looked at the piece in her hand, then at Rahel. “Turn around.”
As Rahel turned her back to the table, Lhyn plucked the piece from Ekatya’s palm. “Let me.”
“I thought this was childish?”
“This is a fascinating example of a training technique not used in Fleet culture. It’s research.”
“Whatever you say, Dr. Rivers.” Ekatya was secretly delighted to see her showing no fear after what must have been a terrifying afternoon.
Lhyn fetched a glass from the kitchen, turned it upside down, and placed it near the rounded corner of the table.
“Are you sure—” Ekatya stopped at Lhyn’s look. “Fine, but I’m not cleaning that up if she misses.”
“I don’t miss,” Rahel said.
Lhyn balanced the game piece atop the upturned glass and moved to Ekatya’s side. “Go,” she said.
Rahel turned, smiled as she dropped to a crouch, and knocked the piece into the kitchen. With a series of pings, it hit the far bulkhead, bounced off a cupboard, and fell to the floor.
The glass did not even vibrate.
“Wow.” Lhyn’s face could hardly contain her grin. “That was amazing.” She fairly skipped into the kitchen to retrieve the game piece.
“Phenomenal accuracy.” Ekatya watched Rahel retract and holster her stave. “Salomen didn’t tell me about that.”
“Given how I met her, I never wanted her to think about that.”
Lhyn came back and dropped the piece into Ekatya’s hand. “Everyone in this room has made mistakes, Rahel. Big ones. It’s what we do afterward that makes the difference, don’t you think?”
Ekatya missed Rahel’s answer when the soft click in her head heralded an incoming call. “Captain, this is Dr. Wells. I’ve finished the surgery.”
“I’ll be right there.”
11
Actions and reactions
“It was a longer operation than I expected.” Dr. Wells was seated at her desk, which, as usual, was cluttered with odd bits of paraphernalia. “The last time I saw a sternum like that was on a skydiver whose descent boots failed. He won’t be on his feet any time soon.” She counted off on her fingers. “Cardiac contusion, pulmonary contusion, hemothorax—he’s lucky to be alive. The only reason he is alive is because he went into surgery so quickly. If Rahel makes a habit of using that move, she probably has a string of dead bodies behind her.”
Ekatya rested her elbows on the padded arms of the guest chair and steepled her fingers, presenting a picture of relaxation while she studied the tension in Wells’s body language. “We know Alseans have denser bones to go with their denser musculature. I’d guess Rahel learned that as a neutralizing strike and doesn’t realize how much damage it causes in Gaians.”
“I don’t know what this does to Alseans. But I’ll find out in a few hours. I left a message for Healer Wellernal in Blacksun. It’s still early morning there.”
“It’s late afternoon here,” Ekatya said mildly. “Why not ask Rahel? You’d get your answers faster.”
“Rahel is not a doctor.”
Ekatya bit back the obvious response and tried a different tack. “This is a warrior so traumatized by what she saw in the Battle of Alsea that it took a government intervention to save her. She’s still in counseling via quantum com. I think it’s safe to say she doesn’t make a habit of killing people.”
“But we don’t know that, do we? Her employer is dead, her records were falsified, and all we know of her history is what she told her counselor.”
“Who is a high empath,” Ekatya reminded her. “Lanaril would have known if Rahel lied.”
“A person can hide truths without lying.”
“I think professional counselors are equipped to detect that, too. Especially high empath ones.” Ekatya dropped her hands in her lap. “What is this really about? You can’t be this upset that she responded to a lethal threat with appropriate force.”
“You call that appropriate force? She took on seven bullies at once and managed relatively mild injuries on all of them. This was one man and she nearly killed him. Why?”
“Because I told her to.”
It wasn’t often she had the opportunity to stun her chief surgeon into silence.
“We had a talk about appropriate responses to what she can sense. I told her to take action immediately if she senses an imminent danger. Not that I expected that order to come around so quickly.” Though Ekatya was certain Rahel would have responded the same way regardless of permission. That was pure training and instinct.
“Action,” Dr. Wells scoffed. “There’s a word with plenty of room for interpretation.”
“If Rahel hadn’t sensed that threat, she’d be dead. Not even her reflexes could have stopped a close-range phaser shot. I asked about her choice of targets, and I’m satisfied that she made the best tactical decision. Let’s set that aside and get to the real issue. Why are you suddenly afraid of her?”
“I’m not—” She subsided at Ekatya’s look of disbelief. With a sigh, she picked up a delicate paintbrush from her desk and began twirling it between her fingers. “She held me back.”
When nothing else was forthcoming, Ekatya said, “I understand why that would distress you. Your instinct is to give aid. But the danger—”
“No. She held me back and it was like being clamped in a vise. I couldn’t—she’s unbelievably strong.” Dr. Wells huffed an unamused laugh. “I don’t often fall into the chasm between knowledge and understanding. I know Alsean musculature is denser than ours. I know she’s stronger. But she held me with one arm and I couldn’t get out. She caused so much damage with a single strike that I spent two hours repairing it.” Her gaze was fixed on the paintbrush, now held between both hands as she bent it into an arc. “A strike I couldn’t even see, and I was standing right there.”
Ekatya crossed her hands in her lap. “So you’ve just discovered your personal project isn’t a cuddly pet.”
“Oh, don’t you—I never thought she was a pet!”
“But cuddly?”
For a moment, Dr. Wells looked close to eruption. Then the steam seemed to dissipate.
“There’s a certain endearing quality about her,” she admitted. “She wants so badly to do it right. Earn our approval. At the same time, she’s tough and obstinate and smart as a box of foxes. I guess I’m rethinking what that intelligence and toughness might mean.”
“They mean we have an extremely capable warrior serving with us.”
“Too capable,” Wells muttered.
Insulted by the implication, Ekatya swallowed her retort and reminded herself that she was talking to a surgeon. “Her need for approval was exploited in the past. Yes, she’s made mistakes. But they were based in loyalty. Now she’s given that loyalty to us.”
“To you,” Wells corrected. “Not to Fleet.”
“To Salomen Opah, if we’re splitting hairs, and I think she’d do anything in her power to uphold that oath. Which includes serving me and Fleet. She’s working hard to learn what that means, to pick up both the written and unwritten rules. She needs help with that. I hope she won’t lose yours.”
The sharp snap of the paintbrush startled them both.
“Dammit. That was one of my favorites.” Wells threw the pieces onto her desk. “Did you hear her? She offered to ‘stop that noise.’ She would have, if you’d given the go-ahead.”
“The operative word here is offered.”
“The problem is the offer!”
“She’s learning, Doctor. She spent years working undercover for the Prime Warrior. Spying isn’t clean work. But she kept this clean. She took decisive action to neutralize a lethal threat, and that is all she did.” Ekatya held up a hand. “We need to take this down a notch. I understand that you’re d
ismayed by the reality of what she is. I’m not, but maybe I have the advantage of being a killer myself.”
Shocking Dr. Wells twice in one afternoon; this was a record.
“Did you forget that I killed at least three Halaamans a year ago?” she asked. “Probably more; I don’t know. I’m sure about those three because I watched them die in my scope. But if we’re talking sheer numbers, then we’d have to include a Voloth invasion group and Hades, that’s in the thousands. Rahel could spend the rest of her life doing nothing but killing and she still wouldn’t catch up with me. I don’t scare you because you know what I do. You know what to expect.”
“I didn’t expect that.” Dr. Wells picked up one of the paintbrush halves, apparently incapable of not doing something with her hands. “I know what you’re saying. But . . .”
“But?” Ekatya prompted when she didn’t finish.
“I deal in broken bodies, Captain. I’ve seen more than my share. I just haven’t—”
When she stopped again, Ekatya thought she saw the problem. “You haven’t seen it happen. You’ve only seen the aftermath.”
“She was so calm about it! Caught me in half a second, held me without even trying, and offered to shut him up if you wanted. I can’t reconcile that with the woman who needs hugs, who was sweet enough to—hm. Never mind.”
Though wildly curious about that unfinished thought, Ekatya let it go. “That calm is the result of years and years of training. I want that in an officer. I want it in you.”
“I’m not—”
“For instance, I’d be terrified to cut a person open and rearrange their internal organs,” she interrupted. “But I know you’re calm when you do it.”
Dr. Wells snapped her mouth shut. “Should have seen that coming. Fine, point taken. She was doing her job.”
“She was. She neutralized him and saved her own life without taking his. If she’d wanted to, she could have put her stave through his eye socket. One quick second to turn his brain to jelly.”
Resilience Page 10
