That was new. “How do you see it?”
“As wisdom. She could be me.” She rested a palm on the woman’s bicep. “Trying desperately to stop things from changing because I’m afraid. But they’re going to change anyway. If I’d let go, I could relax and watch the sphere instead of fighting it. I wasted so much energy fighting.”
Rahel looked at her more closely, noting the lack of sharp edges in her emotional signature. In fact, she glowed with contentment.
“You let go.”
“I did. It took the combined efforts of three people, but I got there. Now I wonder why I waited so long.”
“Is this about, um . . . ?”
“Andira? Yes. It’s not a secret any longer.” Dropping her head back, Serrado cried, “Shek that feels good to say!” She laughed as a group walking toward the administrative wing stopped to stare. “Hope I didn’t disturb anyone in the middle of a creation ceremony.”
It was impossible not to laugh with her. This was a version of Serrado she had neither seen nor imagined, but it was a joy to sense.
“These walls are made of stone two paces thick,” Rahel said. “The windows are soundproofed. You’re not disturbing anyone, but if you do that again, I want to record it.”
“Stand by. It’s likely to happen without warning.” She inhaled deeply, delight sparking off her fingertips. “Technically it’s still a secret, but only for two more days. If all goes well tomorrow, we’ll be making a public announcement the day after.”
Rahel had not expected that. Then again, Serrado and Lancer Tal both had the biggest horns in the galaxy, so perhaps she should have. “What happens tomorrow?”
“Andira is sponsoring me into the warrior caste.”
“And you think it might not go well?” She scoffed. “You have as much chance of being rejected as our moons do of falling out of the sky. They might as well reject Fahla herself.”
“Despite some confusion, I’m not actually Fahla, so yes, there is a chance. I still have to pass the tests.”
“Ah. You want to be a caste member in good standing before the announcement.”
“If I’m to be presented as worthy of Lancer Tal, I need to be as Alsean as possible.” She tilted her head toward the path and began walking. “That’s not what I came to discuss with you.”
Rahel kept pace beside her. They passed two hand-holding couples and reached the central fountain before Serrado spoke again.
“We expect a media storm after the announcement. We’ll give it half a moon to run its course, then I’ll accept my new post on the floor of the Council chamber. The day after that, I’ll fly up to take command of the Phoenix.”
“What will her new name be?”
“Phoenix. No one wanted to change it, least of all me. But I’ll only stay in command for the next cycle, until the Caphenon is raised. It’s not the admiral’s place to go gallivanting out of the system. My place is here. The Caphenon will be my flagship.”
“Who will command the Phoenix, then?”
“Funny you should ask.” Serrado stopped and looked her in the eye, alight with expectation.
Rahel gaped. “No. That doesn’t even make sense!”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know, twelve or fifteen reasons? I don’t have any experience, for one!”
“Give me the name of an Alsean with more starship experience than you.”
That shut her down.
“You can’t. No one comes close for time in space, knowledge of the ship and its systems, or understanding of its strengths and limitations. No one else has mentored with every single section chief, learning what they do and how the sections work together. No one else can walk those chases and brace shafts blindfolded.”
“There are hundreds of Alseans who have worked on the Caphenon for longer than I’ve been on the Phoenix.”
Serrado shook her head. “They worked on a dead ship sitting on the ground. Ask Dr. Wells if there’s any difference between dissecting a cadaver and working with a living, breathing patient.”
“Captain,” she pleaded. “Don’t put this on me. I don’t know how to lead a city in space!”
“The numbers are just a matter of scale. The issue is whether you have leadership qualities and experience. We focused on teaching you to work as part of a team because that was the experience you lacked, but you certainly didn’t lack the ability to lead a team. Hedron Periso spent fifteen cycles infiltrating existing networks and earning people’s trust.”
Rahel faced the fountain, seeking solace in the gentle movement of the water as it flowed over the stones. “Criminals,” she corrected. “I earned the trust of criminals.”
“And you think that makes you less of a leader? I think it makes you more. They had no obligation to trust or follow you.”
“Except the last ones. I bought their service. Then I left them to die.”
“How long do you plan to punish yourself for that?” Serrado shifted position, inserting herself in Rahel’s line of sight. “You obeyed orders, despite your misgivings, because you trusted your oath holder. I did the same thing. You left your mercenaries to die; I left every Alsean on this planet. I’ve been making up for that decision every day since.” She nodded as Rahel met her eyes. “It has made me a better leader. Let me teach you. I’m still in command for the next cycle. More, if it takes longer to raise the Caphenon. Commander Lokomorra has agreed to stay on as my exec for the duration of the Protectorate training. You’ll shadow both him and me. Your sole responsibility for the next cycle will be to learn everything you can about taking command.”
Rahel sat abruptly on the fountain’s edge. “A cycle won’t be enough!”
“I know this is a shock.” Serrado sat next to her. “I wish I’d had more time to ease you into it.”
“The heat death of the universe wouldn’t be enough time.”
“Spoken like one who walks in space.” The air buzzed with an odd combination of amusement and sympathy as Serrado rested a hand on her shoulder. “Sometimes, we’re fortunate enough to get the jobs we need. Other times, we get the jobs that need us. The Phoenix needs you, Rahel. You’re the best choice. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
With a reassuring squeeze, she sat back, her emotional signature confident and serene.
Rahel thought serenity was something she might never achieve again. Her thoughts raced in a hundred directions, but what came out of her mouth was the last thing she planned to say.
“I don’t want to be alone again. All that time you spent teaching me to work as part of a team—what a waste, when you want me to be the one person on that ship who isn’t a part of any team.”
“Rahel—”
“I’ve felt you, Captain. I know how isolated you’ve been.”
Serrado winced. “I wasn’t the best role model in that department. In my defense, not all of that was my own doing. At any rate, that’s not how I plan to lead the fleet.” She shifted to face her. “It’s not how I’d recommend you lead your crew. Alseans are not Gaians. You don’t have to pretend to be someone you’re not for the sake of those looking up to you.”
“Hoi, that’s all right, then. I can act like I don’t know what I’m doing. That should inspire trust.”
“You’re upset and justifiably so,” Serrado said evenly. “But I’m still your oath holder and I deserve your respect. Drop the sarcasm.”
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, mortified by the chastisement.
With a sigh, Serrado swept a hand through her loose hair. “Rahel, it’s not going to happen tomorrow. You have at least a cycle to learn everything Lokomorra and I can teach you. Think about where you were a cycle ago. Could you have imagined that you’d be one of the best gunners on the ship when you’d never flown in a fighter before? Or that you’d teach me how to be an oath holder? You’re my most trusted warrior. You kept me in command when Alsea depended on it. Could you have envisioned that?”
She shook her head, embarrassment evaporating under the
heat of such sincere regard.
“Then trust me when I say you’ll be prepared a cycle from now. Trust me to do my job. I will train you.” She held Rahel’s gaze with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. “A team leader is still a team member. You won’t be alone. You’ll have people you can depend on, just as I depend on my officers. You’ll have me, even when I take command of the Caphenon. Don’t think I’m going to give you my ship and let you just walk off with it. Captains still answer to admirals.” Intensity shifted to amusement as she leaned in with a conspiratorial smile. “Unless the admiral’s name is Greve.”
Rahel found herself smiling in response. Somehow, in the space of a few ticks, Captain Serrado had reduced a terrifying idea to one that was merely frightening.
“Do you really think people will follow me?” she asked. “I’ve never served in a normal Guard unit. I don’t have any of the usual experience.”
“That’s part of what makes you such a good choice. We’re creating something new. We need new ideas and the flexibility to recognize when something doesn’t work. A leader with preconceived ideas of what should work is probably the worst person we could put up there.”
“Or what shouldn’t work,” Rahel said as a memory surfaced. “When Candini dove after that missile, I thought she was insane. I told her the grappler wasn’t designed for that. Good thing she didn’t listen.”
Warm approval washed over her senses. “Excellent illustration. First rule of good leadership: don’t dismiss ideas just because they sound insane. I think you’ve already learned that one.”
In the silence that followed, the distinctive scream of a spearbill sounded overhead. Rahel looked up in time to see it sail over the courtyard, sleek silver wings spread wide to capture the wind off the bay.
She never heard that cry in landlocked Blacksun. Funny, the things that came to mean home.
“I’m going to tell you something,” Captain Serrado said. “First, I need your word of honor that it won’t go beyond us. You can speak of it to Alejandra and Micah, because they already know. No one else, not even your mother or Sharro.”
Though confused, she didn’t hesitate. “I swear on my honor as a warrior.”
“Thank you.” Serrado shifted into a cross-legged position. “If Andira and I could change one thing about our lives, it would be the length of time it took us to find each other. Not as tyrees, but as friends. We understood each other in a way no one else could, because we were both leading alone.”
Rahel nodded. That much she had guessed long ago.
“Our successors have an advantage we didn’t. You’re already friends. You’ll have each other from the beginning.”
Realization curled around her spine. She wanted to ask, but the words wouldn’t come.
“You’ve guessed it already. If Andira gets her way, and I can’t imagine she won’t, Fianna Vellmar will be the next Lancer of Alsea.”
“Huh,” Rahel said after a moment of thought. “I should have seen that coming.”
Serrado stared at her in delight, then slapped her hand against the stone. “Thank you! You just won me a hundred cinteks.”
“What?”
“Andira thought you’d be shocked. I said you’re only surprised when it’s your potential being recognized. You wouldn’t blink an eye that she recognized Vellmar’s.”
She was annoyed by her own transparency before the humor hit. “I’m glad I could help you beat the Lancer. It’s probably the only way I’ll ever do it.”
“I think you’ll have more opportunities. Do you know what Vellmar’s first thought was as a Lancer in training? That she wanted you for her Chief Guardian.”
What an irony. Once, that dream had been in her grasp, until Shantu’s betrayal yanked it away. Now . . .
“Her first thought,” Rahel said. “What was her second?”
“That you’re happier in space, and Alsea is better served with you on the Phoenix. She said that before she knew I chose you. But our choices aren’t the only ones on the game board. You have one, too. If you truly want to be her Chief Guardian, we’ll make it happen. You’d be an enormous asset to her in the role.” She waved a hand. “It’ll be a wait, though. Andira is in no hurry to retire, and Vellmar needs much more time.”
“Lucky her, to get it,” Rahel muttered. Yet her own compressed timeline weighed less now that she had a choice. This wasn’t being forced on her, as so many things had been.
Chief Guardian in a tencycle, perhaps, and service aboard the Phoenix until then? Or captain of the Phoenix next cycle?
A winged shadow flashed across the garden, trailed by a scream.
“What is that?” Serrado craned her neck, trying to locate it.
“A spearbill. They hunt in the southern waters in summer and come up here in winter.” They were explorers, her mother had once said. Creatures of the air who came and went, unafraid of the worst tempests the wild ocean could throw at them.
Rahel put a hand to her chest, atop the wing of her phoenix.
In the end, the choice was easy.
46
Warrior
Dazzling in full dress uniform, Andira stood before the door of her quarters. “Ready?”
“Ready.” Ekatya rolled her shoulders, testing the fit of her new tunic.
“You can unbend your spine. Your acceptance is a foregone conclusion. They’ve probably set up a fireworks display.”
“There are tests,” Ekatya reminded her. “I haven’t passed yet.”
“You’ll pass with all flags flying.”
“Don’t jinx me.”
“Do you always worry so much about little things?”
“It’s not a little thing,” she snapped. “It’s my life.”
Andira’s cheerful expression fell.
“Oh, no, don’t look like that. It’s like I’ve run my shuttle over a litter of vallcat kittens.” That earned her a hearty laugh, as she had known it would. “I’m nervous, all right? Let me worry. You can tease me later.”
Andira stepped into her space and smoothed the fabric across her shoulders. “You will pass,” she said, tugging the collar upright. “You’ve studied the material. You know it back and forth.”
“Backward and forward,” Ekatya said automatically.
“You Gaians and your idioms. Isn’t that the same thing?”
Overwhelmed by a surge of affection, she wrapped her arms around Andira’s waist and rested their foreheads together. “I want to live up to your expectations. I couldn’t stand it if I embarrassed you.”
“I cannot believe you think that’s a possibility.” Andira leaned back to look in her eyes. “I’m proud to be your sponsor. If I did nothing else in my life, I’d be content knowing that history will record me as the warrior who brought Ekatya Serrado into our caste.”
“Was that supposed to make me less nervous?” She stepped away, running a distracted hand through her hair. “It would be easier if I knew what to expect.”
“I’ve told you—”
“But I haven’t experienced it. I’m like a damned cadet, tripping over my feet while trying to find my first classroom.”
“You don’t have to find the classroom. I’m walking you there.”
“Lovely. Now I feel like I’m six and Grams is walking me to my first day of school. Don’t you dare ask if I need you to hold my hand.”
Andira lifted both hands in surrender, then opened the door and stood aside. “After you, Admiral.”
“I’m not an admiral yet. Don’t jinx me.”
She smiled at the chuckle behind her. Despite her dismissal of any hand-holding, she could not imagine doing this alone.
“Lift or stairs?” Andira asked when they reached the main corridor.
“Stairs. I need to move.” As she trotted down the steps, the familiar physicality began to calm her nerves. “I have more respect for Rahel these days. She came aboard the Phoenix and it was a whole new world for her. Every interaction, every room, every expectati
on. I thought I knew how hard that must have been, but really, I had no idea. I have a better idea now.”
“She truly is an explorer,” Andira agreed. “And continuing a long tradition. Warriors have been flagging trails since Ikaren set sail and found a second continent.”
“That wasn’t Ikaren. It was Isen.”
“Ah, that’s right. I always get them confused.”
Ekatya reached the next landing and stopped at the realization. “You little shit. You’re manipulating me. I’ll eat my boots if you ever got them confused.”
Andira burst into laughter. “I would only manipulate you with the greatest love. You know the material back and forth, Ekatya.”
“Backward and forward.” But it had worked; her nervousness receded. While she couldn’t shake it entirely, it was no longer tying her stomach in knots. “Come on, I have tests to take.”
Andira reached the ground floor first and made a flamboyant gesture as she opened the door. Shaking her head, Ekatya walked into the grand lobby and stopped. It was full of Lancer’s Guards.
“You need your entire unit to escort you across the State Park?” she asked suspiciously.
“No, she only needs five.” Micah moved out from behind Gehrain and surveyed his Guards, hands on hips. “The rest are coming along for the exercise. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, Colonel!” they responded smartly.
“You’re supposed to be relaxing in Whitesun,” Ekatya accused.
“I got cold. It’s winter there.”
“We need the exercise, too.”
Hearing Lhyn’s voice, Ekatya turned to find her in a doorway that had been closed a piptick ago. Beside her was Salomen, who nodded sagely and added, “Morning walks are the best. The air smells so clean.”
So much for Lhyn’s assurance that she and Salomen would take the opportunity to sleep in. After all, the tests would last half the morning. They would be there in time for the results, she had promised, and like an idiot, Ekatya had taken that at face value.
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