by Cheree Alsop
Kovak’s jaw unclenched, then clenched again. He finally held out his hand. Jashu Blu dropped the petrified beetle onto it.
“I’m just glad you have a use for it. It’s just a lump of bug carcass to me,” the Quarian said casually.
The gladiator’s mouth tightened as though to hold in a laugh. He shook his head instead. “Thank you.” He closed his hand and said, “I’ll teach you to shoot in return.”
Jashu Blu’s eyes widened. “That would be wonderful!” He caught himself and glanced at Nova. “If that’s alright with you, My Lady.”
Nova nodded and the Quarian let out a whoop. “I’m going to learn to shoot! Better watch out, ‘Verse! Jashu Blu is going to be more dangerous than a zed with new horns!” He shot Nova a grin. “I’m going to tell Gardsworn.”
He was gone from the bridge before she could say anything. Kaj limped to take the seat the Quarian had vacated. He and Junquit fell into a discussion on the best route to take to the Trayshan.
Nova shot Kovak a sidelong look. “That was nice of you.”
Kovak shook his head. “It’s necessary. Those rogue trader ships are no dance in a ballroom.” He gave her a small smile. “To be fair, that also presented its own form of danger.” He put the beetle in his mouth.
Nova cringed at the sound of crunching. “Shouldn’t you save that until we land?”
Kovak shook his head. He swallowed, which sounded painful, then said with a little cough, “Smirens have an extra stomach for digesting skull beetles; I can save it until I need it. Better than risking it being stolen or thrown away as a lump of bug carcass.”
Nova smiled at Jashu Blu’s words. “He means well.”
Kovak nodded. “He’s a good kid.”
Nova watched the stars out the window before she said quietly, “You think this is a bad idea.”
Kovak studied his hands. He ran a finger down a scar that rose in a fine line from the base of his thumb across his palm to his pinky. “I know what it’s like to care about a sibling like that.”
Nova stared at him. “You have a brother?”
The gladiator shook his head without looking at her. “A sister.”
The pain with which he said the word made her hesitate. Kovak didn’t usually allow himself to be vulnerable and open, yet the pain she saw in his face as he kept his focus on his hands made her heart give a double beat.
Nova finally made herself ask, “Where is she?”
He was silent so long she didn’t think he was going to answer. The quiet beeps and computer responses from Junquit’s navigating peppered the conversation the pilot and Kaj were having. Nova could have easily overheard their words with her Cadonian hearing, but she kept her focus on Kovak.
He swallowed loud enough for her to hear before he said, “We were sold.” He rubbed his first and second finger. Nova noticed for the first time that they were a bit crooked as though they had been broken and healed wrong. Kovak spoke quietly in a detached tone when he said, “My mother died when my sister Anaya was born; she became my responsibility. My father spent the majority of his time in the Bacarian System. He gamboled away first my mother’s dowry, then any savings they had acquired. He lost our ship, then our house, and eventually he sold us to pay his debts.”
Nova’s stomach clenched. “How awful!”
Kovak stared at his hands as though he saw something past them that wasn’t there. His eyebrows pulled together and his mask slipped further. True, fresh pain showed in his troubled gaze.
“I wish that was the worst of it,” he said quietly. He shook his head. “I could take being sold to Sir Calladar. At least the chance to serve gladiators and perhaps earn my right to be one of them if I survived was something.” He rubbed his eyes, his elbows still on his knees, then said, “But it was Anaya’s fate I could never forgive him for.”
Nova felt torn. She wanted to ask the question that hung in the air, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the things he told her. It was dangerous to see him as a man with his own past of pain and heartache. It was better for her to keep him at a distance as just a bodyguard, though the voice in the back of her mind whispered that they had somehow crept beyond that.
Truthfully, she didn’t want him to stop talking. She had the distinct impression that he had never spoken to anyone about his early life. She could hear how painful it was for him to relive the past. Perhaps she could help him by listening; she told herself that was the only thing that made her ask, “What happened to your sister?”
Kovak turned to face her. His gaze glittered darkly and he said with a tone of agony, “He sold her to a pleasure ship to pay for debts he could never make up on his own.”
Nova’s hand flew to her throat. “Oh, how awful.”
The gladiator blinked and then glared at the wall past her shoulder. “I searched for her in every capacity I could manage from the Palladium, but I could never find her.” Sorrow showed in his eyes when he met her gaze again and said, “So I know what you’re talking about when you refer to the loss of a sibling.”
Chapter Thirteen
KOVE
I shouldn’t have told her. I don’t know why I did. There was something so compelling about her voice and the way she looked at me as if when she saw me, it wasn’t as a gladiator, a bodyguard, or a Smiren; she saw me as Kove.
I didn’t know what that meant, and it scared me a little. I laughed inwardly at the thought that a Cadonian with long dark hair and the title of Lady could get under my skin in that way. A sneeze sounded and I forced myself to focus on the matter at hand.
“You’re not trying to strangle the gun,” I told Jashu Blu.
The Quarian shot me an embarrassed smile and loosened his grip on the weapon. “Sorry.” He wiped his nose with one of his hands that didn’t hold the gun.
“Don’t be sorry,” I told him. “That gun has the ability to kill anything you point it at. It’s healthy to have respect for it.”
I pointed at the target at the far end of the ship’s storage bay. We had moved the many boxes to the sides and put several crates behind the target to avoid puncturing the hull itself. Kaj had given us access to a surprising number of firearms. The Quarian’s young face lit up in excitement at first, but his nervousness had quickly taken over.
“Remember. Breathing is your friend. Take your time. Breathe in and out slowly.” I listened to him take a deep breath and try to calm down. “That’s it. Take it easy. Just like that.”
Jashu Blu’s grip loosened. I adjusted his hands slightly.
“Good, now look straight down the barrel. Do you see the target at the end? Put your sight just below it.”
His finger started to tighten on the trigger. I could see him pulling the gun upward without realizing it. I set a hand carefully on top. His gaze shifted to me.
“I want you to squeeze the trigger as you breathe out. Be aware that your hand wants to pull the gun up. Use your bottom hand to keep it level. Breathe and squeeze.” I took my hand away.
“Breathe and squeeze,” the Quarian repeated. He turned his attention back to the target and lifted the gun again. “Breathe and squeeze.” He let out a breath and pulled the trigger at the same time.
The bark of the gun was rewarded with a tiny thwack as the bullet sunk into the target’s second ring.
A grin lit the Quarian’s face when he turned back to me. “I did it!”
I patted him on the shoulder. “You did. Keep practicing.” I winked at him. “Just remember to keep the business end pointed that way when you’re loading.”
“Will do,” the young man said. “Thanks, Kove.”
I turned away with a smile of my own. My gaze landed on Nova. She leaned against the doorframe with a slight smile on her face. Kaj stood beside her with a cane in one hand. He gave me a nod of acknowledgement that I returned. A headache whispered at the back of my mind. I walked away from the percussion of the bullets in the hopes that the pain would let up.
“Turning him into a soldier?” Nova
asked when I reached the door.
I glanced back at the Quarian. “Giving him some confidence. That’s all he lacks.” I winked at Nova. “Maybe he’ll be the one to save your life next time.”
A smile touched her lips. “It’s been a crazy few days.”
I nodded. “You can say that again.”
The sound of gunfire followed by a whoop made all of us turn.
Three of Jashu Blu’s hands were in the air and he shouted, “I did it myself! Look at that! I hit the target all by myself!”
“Good job,” I said. “Keep practicing.”
“Will do, Sir. Thank you, Sir!”
“I’m not a sir,” I told him, but he was already loading his gun again.
Nova and I watched him in silence. It looked a lot easier with four hands than it was with two. Within seconds, the Quarian had the gun loaded and ready to fire again.
“Nice,” Nova said.
A man with the green hair and skin of a Mechadocian paused near the door. I had seen him a few times around the ship and appreciated that he kept to himself for the most part. “What’s going on down here?”
“Kovak’s teaching me to shoot,” Jashu Blu said. “He’s really good with guns.”
The Quarian lifted the weapon, then hesitated and glanced back at me.
“Gladiators work with swords and knives and all that, right?”
I nodded without speaking; it was easy to guess where his question was going. The slight ache in my head was increasing to where I could no longer ignore it.
Jashu Blu’s bright eyes showed his confusion. “So, where did you learn how to shoot?”
Everyone turned to me. I crossed my arms in front of my chest. The movement pulled slightly at the cauterized knife wound in my shoulder. It had flared up from the ball. Who knew dancing could be so strenuous? Between it and my growing headache, I had to force myself to focus on their words.
“That is an interesting question,” Kaj said. “I thought guns weren’t allowed in the Palladium.”
“They’re not,” I admitted. I realized I couldn’t stall any longer. I let out a breath and said, “I learned fighting in the Centari Wars.”
Jashu Blu’s mouth formed a large O.
Kaj made a sound of surprise and glanced at Nova.
Gardsworn’s eyebrows rose and he said, “You’re that Sunder?”
I nodded, then regretted the motion as the room continued to move around me. I leaned against the doorway and it stilled.
“What am I missing?” Nova asked, looking from her crew back to me. “What does he mean, ‘That Sunder?’”
“What do you know about the Centari Wars?” I asked.
Kaj took a seat on one of the boxes and stretched out his leg. Gardsworn joined him. Jashu Blu moved from foot to foot as if he couldn’t hold still. A glance showed that he had remembered to flip the safety on the gun that now lay forgotten on the boxes in the face of my admission. I felt like a storyteller with a rapt audience. It was a strange sensation.
“Some,” Nova said. “I sat in on a few of the meetings with McKy and my father.” She glanced at Kaj and lowered her gaze. “Such a thing was considered unbefitting for a lady to hear.”
I brushed past her comment. “Regardless, it’s plenty fitting for the captain of a starship.”
Her expression lit up.
I picked up the gun and began to disassemble it to distract from my aching head as I said, “The Centari Wars were brutal, violent affairs at the edge of the Accord Systems. The Bacarian Star System lies beyond them, but Sir Calladar was paid royally by both the Blavarians and Society to create a gladiator army. Since he could double dip out of both sets of pockets, and with gamboling being low due to the Centari crisis, Sir Calladar was more than happy to oblige.”
My headache pounded harder. Memories pressed at the edges of my mind. I skipped through them as quickly as possible. “The fighting was gritty and ruthless, befitting gladiators,” I noted grimly. “We lost a lot of good fighters.” I glanced at Jashu Blu. “You asked how I learned to shoot? Stick a gun in the hand of someone being shot at and they learn quickly or die.”
The young man lowered his gaze.
I glanced down at the pieces of the gun and started putting it back together.
“Yours was the battalion that won the war,” Gardsworn said. “And you led it.”
I let out a breath. Faces flashed before my eyes, the bodies of the fallen lined up in rows as far as the eye could see. My head felt like it was splitting in two. “Nobody really wins a war.” I set the reassembled gun back on the box and tried to focus on it as icepicks of pain drove into my skull.
Gardsworn patted my shoulder. “It’s thanks to you the Accord Systems were safe.”
I grabbed his hand and twisted it behind him. The headache turned blinding; a shrieking siren sounded in my ears.
“Kovak, let him go!”
I blinked and found my hand on the Mechadocian’s shoulder, ready to snap his arm. He was wincing in pain while Kaj and Jashu Blu watched helplessly. Nova’s hand was on my arm. The small corner of my brain not clouded by pain noted that it wasn’t smart of her to do that. She was either very brave or foolish. I knew better than to guess she was foolish.
I released Gardsworn and took a step back.
“I apologize,” I told him. The words echoed in my head. I put a hand to it.
“It’s the concussion, isn’t it?” Nova asked.
Jashu Blu sneezed and then asked, “What concussion?” with an edge of fear to his voice, fear that I had put there.
“You need to lie down,” Kaj instructed.
Gardsworn rubbed his shoulder and watched me as though waiting for me to attack him again. I knew it wasn’t in my imagination that he had stepped closer to the gun.
I turned away from the three of them.
“Keep practicing,” I said over my shoulder. “Maybe you can shoot me next time.”
I regretted the words but couldn’t take them back. I managed to make it down the next hallway and around the corner before my knees gave out. I collapsed against the wall and leaned my forehead against it, closing my eyes tightly.
The lights pounded through my eyes with the force of a thousand knives. I held my head in an effort to keep my skull from shattering into a million pieces like it threatened to do. I couldn’t breathe without feeling nauseous. The thought of standing was completely beyond me. I couldn’t think past the pain to find my room even if I could open my eyes.
For half a second, I was tempted to burn part of the skull beetle to ease the pain, but the reminder that I would need it in the not-too-distant future kept me from doing so.
“S-sir?” a voice asked quietly.
A groan escaped me. “I’m not a sir,” I replied.
I dared to open an eye. The little maid Nova had brought back from Lorv stood in the middle of the hall. She wrung her hands together.
“How can I help?”
I closed my eyes for another second. I was perfectly aware of the pathetic sight I made. I could barely think past the pain to formulate a way out.
“Could you get me some grug?” I wasn’t a heavy drinker, but it had helped with the headaches before. It was either that or take the mind-numbing meds the ship’s medical computer prescribed, and I wasn’t going to do that.
“Grug?” the maid repeated.
I tried to think of her name. A flash of pain made me squeeze my eyes shut again. “Avaya, Evira…Ivana,” I settled on. I glanced over and saw her nod. Just glancing at her made my vision swim and my stomach turn over with nausea. “Ivana, I need you to find me something to dull the pain. Drinking helps. Something strong. I don’t know what you call it on Lorv. Grug, tipple, mum, brawn.”
Her eyes opened wider. “Brawn,” she repeated. “I know brawn. Where do I find it?”
“Go to the engine room. There’s always someone who drinks in the engine room,” I told her.
She nodded quickly and disappeared back up the hall. I
managed to turn around and lean my head on my knees. I hoped Gardsworn wouldn’t take offense at me sending the maid for grug from his workers, but I had never known a ship without a heavy drinker in it belly. It was one of those certainties of life that kept the ‘Verse spinning in the right direction.
The thought of spinning made my world turn upside down. I pressed my cheekbones against my knees hard enough to slow the pain with a different kind. I tried to center myself, to picture the leaf, but even it turning slowly in my mind was enough to make my stomach threaten to spill its contents all over the hallway. I doubted Ivana would appreciate that.
Footsteps returned after a far longer time than I thought they should have. I opened one eye to see who was there. A groan escaped me when I saw Ivana along with Gardsworn himself. Luckily, he carried a flask in one hand.
The green-skinned Mechadocian crouched in front of me.
“You send this little snippet of a girl to ask my men for a drink?” He grunted. “I should leave you here after you nearly tore my arm off, but Captain Nova reassured me you weren’t yourself.” He paused, then asked, “You left the storage bay over an hour ago. Have you been here that entire time?”
I could hear the humor and disapproval in his voice. I held out my hand without looking up. “I was right, wasn’t I?” I said in a low voice. “I figured someone would have something.”
“You were right,” he agreed grudgingly. “Hawshorn makes his own particular brew. He calls it greasky because he says it’ll put hair on your chest and grease down the hydraulics better than any sop.” He gave a little shudder. “I don’t care for it myself.” He set the container in my hand. “Good luck.”
I flipped the lid back and took a swallow. The stuff burned all the way down my throat. I gasped, then took another gulp before corking the top again.
Gardsworn stared. “I’ve never seen anyone go for seconds besides Hawshorn himself.”
I blinked back the tears from the brew. “It’ll do,” I forced out.
Gardsworn chuckled. He held out a hand. “Come on, Gladiator. Let’s get you to your room. Maybe you can sleep off whatever this is.”
