Birthright

by L. Fergus

  “All the king’s men—” the voice challenged.

  “—Couldn’t put Humpty back together again,” Kita said with a chuckle. I have no idea.

  “Alright wiseass, get your hands up and don’t move.”

  Kita did as instructed.

  Out of the darkness, a legionnaire appeared holding a crossbow stalk with no bow and wearing the same armor and uniform as Angus. “Who the blazes are you, and what are you doing here? Think about your answer or you’ll get a couple of new holes to breathe out of.”

  “I’m Junior Commander Katrina Logine of the Legion of Yorq, the war cat is Sarge, and the large one behind me is Zidin.”

  “Yeah, right, Rosie. We don’t have a junior commander. Last chance…”

  The click of the safety annoyed Kita, as well as the disrespect for her roses. I went through a lot of trouble for these. “You know you can’t get us all, one to three.”

  “Are you willing to find out the hard way?” said the legionnaire.

  “Are you willing to find out the hard way if I am who I say I am?”

  The guard was quiet for a moment. “Advance and be recognized—only you. The cat and the big one stay put.”

  Kita walked forward until the legionnaire stopped her. A bright light piercing the darkness blinded her. It moved up and down her body, then went out as quickly as it appeared. Kita stared into the darkness, blind. Downside to flashlights.

  “Nice tattoo, Rosie. But I didn’t see anything that marks you as a legionnaire. Round them up, boys, and we’ll take them to the brig.” Four more legionnaires appeared from the darkness.

  I guess he wasn’t bluffing—good to know. “Looking for my chain? You put that stupid flashlight in my face. You must be blind.”

  “Unless you have it under that choker, you don’t have one. I know what the damn thing looks like,” snapped the legionnaire.

  “The style’s changed, you didn’t get the report?” said Kita, amused.

  “What change?”

  “Try my ear.”

  The flashlight snapped on again, Kita shook her head to make sure he didn’t miss it.

  The legionnaire grumbled as he looked closer. “No funny business, Rosie.” He pushed her face to one side to shine the light on the chain.

  “Son of a bitch…Stand at ease, men. We’ll let the computer decide if Rosie’s for real. Albert and Martin, you come with me, James and Harrison stay here. Rosie and her friends are coming with us. Keep your hands where we can see them and no sudden moves, understood?”

  Kita smiled innocently and nodded.

  The outpost entrance was designed with defense in mind. The entry tube made several ninety-degree turns and became narrower. They passed through a series of thick metal doors that must have weighed several tons but slid open with ease. The last door looked like the one for the administrative center but was much thinner when opened. A legionnaire sat tapping away at a panel on a desk in a tiny antechamber. He looked up.

  “What’s this, Corporal? More lost treasure hunters?” The legionnaire stood and walked around the desk. He wore a uniform like Angus, but without the armor.

  “No, Sergeant. Rosie claims to be our new junior commander. She has a chain, but it’s on her ear. I brought her in to have the computer confirm it.”

  The sergeant grabbed Kita’s head and turned it, looked at Kita’s chain, and nodded. I’m beginning to think putting it on my ear was a bad idea.

  “Well, whoever you are, place your finger in the biometric scanner, and we’ll know if you’re lying.” The sergeant pointed to the familiar hole.

  Kita did as instructed. The panel displayed a picture of her, her rank and other personal information.

  Kita looked at her two new legionnaires. A lesson she’d learned from Petersen came back to her. She waved her hand, dismissively at the pale-faced corporal. “Take your men and go back to your post.” The three saluted and left. Kita turned to the sergeant. “And you are?”

  The sergeant came to attention and saluted. “Master Sergeant Mickelson, NCOIC of third shift watch. Should I alert the lieutenant you’re here?”

  Mickelson seemed competent and could instruct her on the outpost procedures. First, she wanted answers.

  “I’d like to see the records of the last couple of patrols for the main tube toward the administration center.”

  Mickelson tapped the panel several times, opened a drawer, and took out a large folder in disarray.

  “What’s this?” Kita asked astonished.

  “The logs of the other watches—mine are on the computer.”

  Kita sighed. “When was the last time a patrol went down that tube?”

  Mickelson tapped on the panel. “They returned on my watch, shows two weeks, Commander.”

  “I’d like to speak with the outpost commander. I also have several other things I need to address.”

  “What are those, Commander?”

  “Let’s talk with the outpost commander first.”

  “As you wish, Commander. I believe he’s off duty, so I’ll take you to him. Let me get someone to cover my desk.” Mickelson left and came back with his replacement. “Follow me, Commander.”

  Mickelson led Kita, Zidin, and Sarge through a door behind the desk. They passed several rooms. Curiously, Kita stopped to look. There were barracks, a storeroom, office space, and a latrine. Every place she stopped, even the hallway, was dark and dingy. Several of the stalls in the latrine said out of order. She checked to make sure the shower worked and that the water was clean. A storeroom was in disarray with piles of trash and dusty items on the shelves. The barracks looked like her brother’s room when he was a teenager. Several bunks looked clean and orderly. Mickelson turned red when a room’s panel displayed pictures of naked women. Kita raised an eyebrow but said nothing. What the bloody moons is that on her chest? A third nipple? These guys must be desperate. I wonder how to fix that…

  They came to a room marked MESS. Mickelson reached for the door, but Kita stopped him. “Let’s go to the kitchen first.” Let’s see if I want more of those ration bars.

  Mickelson shrugged. He led her around a corner to a set of double doors. Inside, everything was greasy, grimy, and gross. Kita pushed aside a bin on one of the metal tables revealing that the table used to look like shiny metal.

  Mickelson called out, “Hey, Cookie. The new commander’s here, and wants to see you.”

  From behind some metal shelves, a short, overweight man walked out. Waddled is more like it. His once-white uniform was dingy yellow with grease stains, complemented by splatters of different colors.

  “Greetings, Commander!” He shook Zidin’s hand. Kita frowned as Mickelson tried to interrupt, but Cookie’s good humor and loud voice carried over him. “Welcome to Outpost Twenty-four. Planning on replacing Angus someday, eh? Good man, he is. Where is he? He said he’d bring me a new recipe to add to my collection. Can I get you anything? I make a good cup of joe, or you want something stronger? The machine makes good beer and decent wine. Hungry? I can whip up a sandwich or something. You want something, sweetheart? You’re quite the looker. You’ll get lots of action around here. Roses are a nice touch. So, who’s hungry?”

  Zidin crossed his arms and stepped aside. Sarge slunk behind him. Mickelson stood at parade rest; his face blank. Kita’s roses felt like they were on fire.

  Cookie looked around confused. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

  Kita stepped up to him and leaned in. Her voice was colder than an arctic storm, as she bit out, “You have twelve hours to have this place spotless.”

  Cookie laughed. “What’s a little extra grease—right, Commander? Sweet cheeks must be used to eating off a king’s plate.” Cookie’s belly shook when he laughed. “If she’s willing to work, I can make sure hers contains a little less—if she’s worried about her figure.”

  “She’s the commander, not me,” said Zidin.

  Cookie laughed, making his fat rolls shake. “Right, Commander. This is
the Legion of Yorq. Angus would never pick a girl. They’re not strong or tough enough. I hear they make gals legionnaires in other Legions, but they can’t keep their minds on the job—they get baby fever, if you know what I mean.”

  Zidin frowned, making his shark’s mouth look menacing. Sarge stepped forward his hackles raised and growling. Cookie looked at Mickelson. He stood at parade rest, but with a disapproving glare.

  Kita’s brow furled and her blue eyes pierced him like daggers. She drew Dusk. “Would you like to guess where my mind is at?” she said in a low, disapproving tone.

  “You—you guys aren’t bluffing—sweetheart is our new junior commander?” Cookie gulped.

  “As of a few days ago, I am your acting commander,” Kita roared, letting her temper for a moment. “Until Commander Angus is found.”

  Sergeant Mickelson raised an eyebrow.

  Cookie went whiter than his uniform used to be. “My apologies, Commander. I’ll try and get this place cleaned up. Best that I can.”

  “Legionnaire, I had better be able to see my roses’ reflection everywhere I look. Dismissed.”

  Cookie saluted sloppily and waddled away. Kita led the others back into the corridor and around to the mess entrance.

  She put her hand on the door, but Mickelson stopped her. “Allow me to enter first, Commander, and give them a chance.”

  Kita nodded.

  Mickelson entered Kita close on his heels.

  “Commander on deck!” Mickelson yelled as Kita entered, but no one moved until Zidin stepped in.

  “Say at ease, Commander,” whispered Mickelson.

  Kita motioned for Zidin to do it.

  “At ease,” Zidin called flatly.

  Kita giggled. I’m sure I sound just as hilarious.

  The legionnaires returned to their activities of eating, drinking, and playing cards.

  I need to make an entrance. Something to grab their attention and make them respect me. Pageantry was a part of learning to be an assassin. She pulled two bags from her belt and threw them at the center table. There were sharp bangs and the mess filled with smoke. Kita jumped onto the table and silently moved to the center, waiting for the smoke to clear.

  “Listen up!” Kita yelled when it was clear enough to see. “My name is Katrina Logine, and I’m your junior commander and acting commander.”

  Surprised legionnaires recoiled, trying to protect their food, drink, or game. Kita heard a whispered remark from another table behind her. She performed a backward somersault, landing in front of the offender with Dawn and Dusk drawn—one sword against the man’s neck, the other between his legs.

  “Care to repeat that,” Kita growled.

  The man shook his head.

  “It wasn’t a question.”

  In a very small voice, the legionnaire repeated his remark.

  “I don’t think they can hear you,” Kita hissed.

  The legionnaire swallowed hard and yelled his remark across the hall. Even Zidin blushed. Kita looked around the room—no one met her eyes. She looked at the offender. “When we’re done here, report to Cookie in the kitchen. Tell him I sent you to help turn his sty into a rose garden.”

  With a flourish, Kita put her swords away and walked down the table. “I’ve taken the liberty of doing an informal inspection of the outpost and I’m disgusted. The Legion is supposed to be the best and most experienced veterans from around Yorq—” Kita stepped on some poker chits. She looked at the hands of the four players and spotted a card up one man’s sleeve. She had no intention of calling him out, but she wanted to know who’d be brave enough to cheat.

  “Who are you?” Kita pointed to the cheater.

  “Private Savage, Commander,” he replied respectfully and forcefully.

  “What was your previous unit?”

  “I was a member of His Majesty’s Long-Range Reconnaissance Force.”

  “The Rangers are an elite unit of trackers and scouts.”

  “I was the best of the best.”

  Kita raised an eyebrow. “And would this place have been acceptable to the Rangers?”

  “No,” Private Savage said flatly.

  Kita nodded and kept walking. “Every one of you was a senior member of your unit, and yet you gave that up to join the Legion. Why?” In the sea of faces, she looked for one to pick out. Petersen?

  Her old trainer sat hiding in the back, looking ashamed. Kita pointed to him. “You. Why did you join the Legion?”

  “The Legion is the greatest military unit in The Mass. Only the best and most experienced are asked to join.”

  “What was your rank in your last organization?”

  “Sergeant-Major-at-Arms.”

  “Would this mess be acceptable in your last unit?”

  Petersen shook his head. “No, Commander.”

  Kita lifted her voice so all could hear. “Then WHY is it acceptable under this command?”

  Petersen hung his head. “It’s not, Commander.”

  “You’re damn right it’s not. You’re all legionnaires, and you know the standard. If you don’t know the Legion standard, you know the standard of your previous unit. From now on, I expect everything to be up to the Legion standard. Is that understood?” The reply was less enthusiastic than Kita hoped for. “IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?”

  Petersen jumped to his feet, and the rest followed. They answered with a thunderous, “Yes, Commander.”

  “Carry on, then.” Satisfied, Kita flipped off the table and walked out the door.

  Zidin, Sarge, and Mickelson caught up to her around a corner.

  “Sergeant Mickelson, take me to whoever’s in charge of this place,” Kita growled. The corner of Mickelson’s mouth ticked up. Glad someone is enjoying this.

  The group followed Mickelson deeper into the outpost.

  They arrived at a door with a panel next to it. Mickelson raised his hand to knock, but Kita stopped him.

  “Does that work?” Kita pointed at the panel.

  “Yes, but it’s only keyed to the lieutenant.”

  “Let’s see if it will open for me.” Kita pressed her palm against the panel. The door slid back.

  Paper, clothes, bottles, and trash littered every surface. The lieutenant sat snoring loudly in his chair with his bootless feet on the desk, his trousers undone, wearing a greasy undershirt. Kita motioned to stay quiet while she crept to him. The man reeked of alcohol. With a swift kick to a chair leg, Kita woke the sleeping officer, who promptly fell over backward.

  The lieutenant climbed to his feet slowly, cursing. It took him a moment to focus on the group in front of him. He sneered at Mickelson. “What the blazes do you want, Mickelson? You better not be here to waste my time with another useless report.”

  Mickelson motioned to Kita standing behind him. The lieutenant scowled. “Who the blazes are you, and how did you get into my office? Mickelson, if this is some joke, I’ll bust your ass back to private. Either way, have Rosie arrested for assaulting a legionnaire.”

  “Are you the one in charge of my outpost?” said Kita.

  The lieutenant laughed. “Little girl, this is a Legion outpost. How you got in here I don’t know, but I’m going to throw your ass out.”

  Half a head taller than Kita and twice as wide, he lunged toward her. She sidestepped him, grabbed his undone trousers, and yanked them down. The lieutenant toppled into the mess. He struggled to get up. Kita stepped on his back, yanked his head up by the hair, and slid Dusk under his throat.

  “Now we have a case of assaulting a superior officer, Lieutenant. I don’t like being assaulted. It makes me…twitchy.” Kita pushed Dusk against him. “But I’ll let the Legion deal with you. Now, get up.” Kita withdrew Dusk and dropped the lieutenant’s head. His nose hit the floor. Kita stepped off him, driving her heels into his back. She waited for the lieutenant to get up and fix his trousers.

  “Who are you, anyway?” The lieutenant’s voice sounded worse.

  “I’m your new junior commander and acti
ng commander, Katrina Logine. Who are you? Besides the worst officer I’ve ever seen.”

  “Mickelson, arrest her for impersonating a Legion officer. Sorry, little girl, we don’t have a junior commander. Otherwise, I’d know about it.”

  “Well, Lieutenant, let me be the first to inform you. I’ll also inform you that you’re relieved of your command.”

  “You can’t do that. Only Angus can do that on the spot,” he shouted.

  “I’m tired of playing games. Sergeant Mickelson, you’re promoted to lieutenant and placed in command of Outpost Twenty-four. You know what needs to be done around here. Your first task is to take this sorry excuse for an officer into custody for dereliction of duty and assaulting a superior officer.”

  “You’re not—”

  Kita turned her head. “Look at my ear.”

  The lieutenant looked at her chain. “It’s not possible…”

  “It’s very possible. Mickelson…”

  Mickelson took his former commander into custody. “Lieutenant Bowersox, you’re under arrest.”

  Bowersox put up his fists. Kita motioned to Zidin. He picked up Bowersox, slammed him into his filth, and hogtied him with his own belt. Mickelson went to the desk, hit a button, and spoke. When the desk spoke back, Kita raised an eyebrow.

  A group of armed men arrived. With a brief explanation by Kita and a snappy, “Yes, Commander,” the men hauled Bowersox to his feet and led him away.

  “You should get a cleaning crew down here.” Kita was sure she’d seen something move that shouldn’t.

  Mickelson shook his head. “That can wait, Commander. It’s been like this for years. It can wait a little longer. I need to go through the paperwork and identify what’s important. But we should get you in contact with Central Hub. I bet they don’t know of your existence, either.”

  Kita nodded. “How long does a round trip take?”

  “I can call them.”

  “How’s that possible? I can yell, but not that loud.”

  “I’ll show you—it’s easier that way.” Mickelson led them to another room of the outpost. Inside, panels had men sitting in front of them. Something beeped, and a man hit a button. A voice came from the panel, and a conversation ensued. Kita understood computers and panels could send voices from location to location. How they did it, she couldn’t imagine.