by L. Fergus
Kita grabbed him by the hair and yanked him to his knees. Kita let go, and Mickelson struggled to raise his head. She swept Dawn and Dusk back, ready to cut off his head. “Keep your head up. The least you can do is die by your honor.”
Zidin grabbed Kita in a bear hug and locked her hands behind her head. She let out a screech of frustration and kicked off the ground. Zidin refused to let go, and they fell over backward. He hung on as she struggled to escape. Kita bit Zidin’s arm and broke free. In a panic, he grabbed her ankle. She raised her foot to stomp on his hand. He yanked her off her feet. Zidin stood, dangling Kita as she struggled to reach him. He spun three times and threw her into the wall. Zidin dove on top of her, struggling to lock her head and arms while using his legs and body to immobilize her. Kita struggled but had no place to go. Her body relaxed, and tears ran down her face.
“He called me a monster,” Kita whimpered.
“You’re not a monster,” said Zidin softly. “You’re a fallen angel. You can’t listen to what they say. They don’t know you like I do. Are you ready to sit and collect yourself?”
“Yeah.”
Zidin let go of Kita, and she and Sarge went to a corner, sat down hard, and curled up in a ball. Sarge pushed his way into her lap, and Kita buried her face in his fur.
Zidin rushed to Mickelson. Two medics, with hands covered in blood, worked to save him. They didn’t have enough supplies and were using their shirts. Zidin reached into his sporran and pulled out a jar of the healing balm. “Here, use this. It’ll heal those wounds in a hurry.”
“Sorry exotic, we don’t need your magic. We have plenty of our own,” one of the medics growled.
Undeterred, Zidin smeared the balm into a series of slashes and a deep stab wound. The slashes closed, and the stab wound stopped oozing.
“What is that stuff?” a medic asked in amazement.
“It’s a healing balm our elders make. It comes from more advanced technology than what you have. Apply it to any open wound. It doesn’t work on broken bones, only flesh.”
“We can’t close the deep wounds without checking for internal damage. His insides must be sliced to ribbons.”
“His organs are fine. If she wanted to do real harm, she knows where to stick him. She hit places that hurt and look worse than they are.”
The medic shook his head. “No one is that precise.”
“There’s always a faster gun.” Zidin shrugged and turned to Mickelson. “How are you doing, Lieutenant?”
His eyes were glazed over.
Zidin went to check on Kita and intercepted Thorne, the sergeant carrying the panel displaying Bradley and a half dozen men. “Can I help you, Colonel?”
“We need to speak with Kita,” Bradley said, sounding irritated.
“No longer Commander, eh? I can’t let you do that.”
“Out of our way, or I’ll have you removed.”
Zidin drew Great White and placed the tip in front of the camera. “Go ahead, and more of Kita’s legionnaires will need medics.”
“Ignore him. Let’s go.”
With a quick flick, Zidin put the tip of his sword at the sergeant’s throat. “Colonel, another step and Sergeant Inglis becomes more efficient at breathing. You’re not going over there, because you don’t know what you’re getting into.”
Bradley turned red. “And what do I not understand about the situation?”
“Kita just finished berserking, and it leaves her in a fragile emotional state. If you don’t give her time to recover, she could relapse.”
“What the blazes does that mean?”
“It means it’ll be more than Lieutenant Mickelson in need of a medic.”
Bradley scoffed. “You’re reinforcing the idea she’s dangerous.”
Zidin’s eyes narrowed. “She’s not dangerous. Angus promised her the training she’d need to control her ability. If you want someone to blame, blame Lieutenant Mickelson. I warned him not to fight the last bout. You can also blame the guy who tripped her off.”
“She’s still responsible for her actions. This is a bad precedent to set for the men.”
“Colonel, everyone here is a veteran of an army, and we’ve seen commanders do worse. She didn’t kill or maim him, just slapped him around some. There’s nothing wrong with that. If you were listening, she explained her training philosophy.”
“That doesn’t excuse her. I won’t let it stand in my Legion,” said Bradley.
Zidin raised an eyebrow. “Your Legion, Colonel? I thought it was Angus’ or Kita’s. I know this play, Colonel. Commander Angus is missing. You arrest the new Junior Commander with no loyalties on some trumped-up charge leaving the top spot open for you.”
“How dare you accuse me of trying to take over,” Bradley snarled.
Zidin glanced at the concerned men. The seed was planted. “When does a subordinate arrest a superior? Only in grave circumstances with the backing of the officer corps. You don’t have that. Instead, you’re here doing it quietly and privately.”
The legionnaires looked at each other. Thorne had a dour look.
“Kita needs to answer for what she’s done. Legionnaire, why are we not moving?” Bradley shouted.
Zidin flicked his sword from the legionnaire’s throat to the camera. He looked at Thorne. “Major, you’re the officer on the spot, what do you think should happen?”
Thorne looked concerned. “I agree with you. She used excessive force, but dueling is dangerous, and people do get hurt. If the lieutenant was warned, then he knew the risks. The Legion has procedures to handle this. It should go to Commander Angus or LCom. As the ranking officer present, I won’t take her into custody.”
“That’s a direct order, Major. Do it,” screamed Bradley.
Thorne shook his head. “I deem it an unlawful order. If you think she needs to be punished, do what the regulation states and refer the complaint to her superior.”
The panel winked out.
“That might have ended my career.”
Zidin shook his head. “Kita will make sure you keep your job—if not promoted. It looks like a colonel position will be opening shortly.”
Thorne laughed. “I wouldn’t take that job if you paid me. I’m a field commander.”
“Man after my own heart.” Zidin left the officers to check on Kita. “How’s my fallen angel?”
Kita took her face out of Sarge’s fur and wiped the tears away. “How do you think? I’m tired, I hate it here, these people are awful, and I want to go back to Mom and Dad’s.” The last thought caused her to sob.
Mom and Dad? She’s never referred to the chieftess as mom. “Lieutenant Mickelson will be fine. The medics are attending to him, and I gave them some healing balm. Take as long as you need. I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”
When Kita looked up from Sarge, Thorne was waiting —too close for comfort. “What’s he doing here? Isn’t he one of Bradley’s flunkies?”
Zidin cringed. “You heard that?”
“It wasn’t by choice. I happened to be the senior officer present,” said Thorne.
“If you knew he was wrong, why did you go along with him?” Kita demanded.
“He is the senior officer in your Legion, and I didn’t have a good way of refuting his claim. Your friend did. I’m not sure what Colonel Bradley will do. Let’s hope I find Commander Angus, and he can put an end to the discussion.”
“Fine, but I’m continuing to Razor’s Pass and taking command of the army.”
“Yes, Commander. If I find Commander Angus, I will tell him where you went.”
“We should get some rest before we head out,” said Zidin.
Kita shoved Sarge off her lap. The legionnaires gave her a wide berth as she left.
Kita felt better after a nap. She sat on the edge of her bed, cleaning Dusk. She’d left a mark in the ‘unscratchable’ tabletop to see which lived up to its reputation. Zidin sat in a corner doing similar to Great White. “Yes?” Kita yelled at the door when it
chimed.
“A special envoy from LCom is here, Commander. He wishes to speak with you.”
Kita grumbled. “Tell him I’ll meet him in the lieutenant’s office.”
The door slid open, and a man wearing an ankle-length leather duster over a dark grey shirt and blue pants jingled when he stepped inside. Crossbow grips were attached to a belt with brace cylinders. He seemed to like raw leather; he wore leather gloves and pointed leather boots. A red bandana covered his nose and mouth, and a wide-brimmed hat sat low on his head.
“Are you Junior Commander Katrina Logine?” he said in a labored voice with a metallic sound.
“Who wants to know?” Kita said, irritated.
“You may call me Cowboy, Junior Commander Logine.” His eyes shifted back and forth.
“What can I do for Lord Cowboy?” What’s behind the mask?
“I’m here to discuss current events.”
Kita frowned. “Which current events interest you?”
“I’m concerned with the disappearance of Commander Angus and your unique display in the gym.”
Kita’s eyes narrowed. “Did you magically travel from LCom to this tiny outpost in less than five hours? I have no doubt everyone in the Legion knows what happened in the training room. Commander Angus was reported missing less than two days ago. Unless the map I have is wrong, the closest Legion anything is days away. You must have been on your way here before any of that happened. Why are you really here?”
Cowboy’s brow crinkled. “I’m to be your advisor.”
The hair on the back of Kita’s neck stood. “I have plenty of people who could advise me—if I can trust them.”
“General Barneky has been disciplined. It’s up to your discretion if you want to replace Colonel Bradley.”
“How did you know about that?” Kita said, amused.
“It doesn’t matter how I know any of this.”
He sounds irritated. “It matters to me. I don’t trust people who knock on my door and invite themselves in. I’m sure there’s more.”
Cowboy glared.
“Why do I think there’s more? Alright, I’m bored. I will play your game, Lord Cowboy. I don’t have nothing better to do—like command my Legion. So, you must be a legionnaire to get into this outpost and a high-ranking one if you’re allowed to dress like that. You just learned of Angus, Bradley, and Mickelson when you got here. But you’ve been following us for some other reason.”
Cowboy’s eyebrows touched.
“That’s what I thought. So, why are you following me? Tell the truth. I’m getting tired of this really fast.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m here to help you.”
Kita smiled. “Question is: Who else are you helping? I’m a little paranoid at the moment.”
“You’ll have to learn to deal with disappointment.”
“Not if I always get my way. And right now, I’m getting the urge to throw you out.”
“You can’t do that. My assignment comes from your boss’ boss.”
“If I kill you and stuff you into a barrel, who’s going to notice? I’ll tell them you tripped and fell off a cliff.”
Cowboy’s eyes twinkled. “Darling, many have tried, none have succeeded.” He opened his duster and rested his hands on the crossbow grips. “If you’d like to take a shot, step right up. I promise I won’t kill you. But I will leave a mark on your pretty hide.”
Zidin stood up and moved toward Cowboy. “Kita, those are—”
“Stay put,” Cowboy ordered Zidin.
A red aura closed on Kita’s vision, and her anger swelled. “Would you like to count to three?”
Kita sat with her swords in her lap as Cowboy counted down. On three, he drew his weapon and fired. The time between his countdown and the shot felt like an hour. She leaped from the bed and slashed his bandana, revealing his face. Ugh, what happened? Did he get kicked in the jaw by a mule? She spun around him and placed Dusk against Cowboy’s throat and Dawn on his wrist.
“Would you like to know what happened to the last person who put a mark on my hide?” Kita hissed in his ear.
Cowboy spun his weapon to hold it by the center.
“He’s my friend in the kilt.” Kita giggled. “We’re going to play a little game called Answer My Questions. Feel like playing or do I need to get persuasive?”
“I don’t need an assassin practicing her trade on me,” said Cowboy.
“Let’s start there. Why do you think I’m an assassin?” Kita said, trying to sound innocent.
“From the recording, I watched of you and the lieutenant. You use the assassin form. From watching you strike; you know plenty about being an assassin.”
“It could be luck.”
“You performed a blind double backstab holding your weapons backward without hitting any major organs. That’s not luck. I don’t think a normal assassin could perform that feat.”
Kita couldn’t tell if Cowboy was in awe. His voice didn’t translate emotion well.
“Let’s leave it at luck. Let’s get back to you following me. Why don’t you start at the beginning?”
“I was sent to track an influx of Mongulesians into the region. When I arrived at Arbol, I found the crippled barbarian dumped in the village. He said a girl did it. I was skeptical. Why he was crippled and not killed is still a mystery…” Kita shrugged. “I heard stories of a girl with impossible agility and strength. They said she and Commander Angus were together. I tracked you through the sewer and the tubes to the administrative center. There, I learned Angus chose you to be his junior. I was given new orders to find you. I was told to meet with Commander Angus and discuss concerns the commandant had. When I arrived here, I received my new assignment to be your mentor.”
Kita put her swords away. Cowboy was frank, honest, and not afraid of a fight. I’m either going to love him or hate him. “Interesting story. Tell me about these concerns.” Kita went back to the bed, on her way kicking a chair to her visitor. Cowboy ignored it. Kita kept her back to him and wiped away the tears.
Cowboy pulled out another bandana and replaced the damaged one. “The commandant’s concerns are usually between him and Commander Angus. It would normally be up to Commander Angus to talk to you about them. But he’s not here, I am, and I will. Your inexperience is a concern. Another is your berserking ability. The mutations you have are documented, but not in the combination you have.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m here to advise, observe, and report, nothing more. The last concern is your status as an Arconian.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Kita hoped her crying wasn’t coming out in her voice.
“Would you like to guess how many Arconians serve in the Legion?”
“I don’t know, thousands.”
“There’s only you. Arconians are loyal to Arcone. If Arcone needs them, they will drop whatever they’re doing, including canceling mercenary contracts, and report home.”
Kita looked at Zidin. “It’s true.”
“If that were it, it would be a minor inconvenience and easily dealt with. What worries the commandant is your status as Rose.”
Kita put her hand to her face. “What does that have to do with the Legion?”
“Do you know what a Rose does?” said Cowboy.
“They’re warrior emissaries. They make and sustain treaties and trade while trying to secure new contracts.”
“The Rose is the personification of Arcone’s fighting spirit. You lead their army and have the authority to call on their army if you feel the need. That could be in conflict with the Legion.”
Kita looked at Zidin. He grimaced and nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was waiting until we got to Arcone. We felt you shouldn’t know your full role until you understood Arcone.”
Kita rolled her eyes. How come I get the feeling Arcone is going to be a pain in the ass. She looked at Cowboy. “The Legion can stop a small country like Arcone.”<
br />
Cowboy shook his head. “Arcone is the smallest region on The Mass, with a population of two hundred and fifty thousand. But everyone is trained in basic combat skills. If you deduct the old, weak, sick, and support people, they can field an army of over two hundred thousand. You combine their numbers and combat skill with the technology and experience of the Legion, and you have an army large enough to conquer The Mass.”
I haven’t thought of that. I wield that much power? “You’ll be glad to hear world domination isn’t on my agenda.”
“Your psych profile suggested as much.”
Kita finished crying and turned around. “Fair enough. Anything else you’d like to add—last chance.”
Cowboy shook his head.
Kita wagged a finger. “Tsk-tsk. I was beginning to trust you, Lord Cowboy. You forgot the part about you’re to assassinate me if I become too difficult to manage.”
Cowboy’s eye’s narrowed.
“I don’t blame them. Just know I’ll be waiting…So, advisor of mine, what do you advise?”
“We leave for Razor’s Pass as soon as you’re ready.”
“My weapons are ready. We need to get winter gear. Do you know if they have anything better than these?” Kita held up a rations bar.
“Yes. They have some you mix with water in the form of a mush pudding,” he said disgustedly. “We can visit the quartermaster for cold-weather gear.”
“What do you call your weapon that fires metal?”
“A revolver.”
Kita nodded. “Alright, let’s get going.”
Kita followed Cowboy to the quartermaster. She expected heavy boots, jackets, and leggings. Instead, they issued her the thinnest garments she’d ever seen.
“It’ll keep you warm no matter how cold it gets,” said Cowboy.
When Kita put them on, they clung to her like a second skin. Cowboy instructed her on the use of the smart cloth—it could be any color, transparent, or turn the wearer invisible. Hating to be cold, she grabbed a cloak for insurance.
With preparations complete, Kita led Zidin, Cowboy, and Sarge back into the tubes.
