Kaji Warriors: Shifting Strength

by Kelly A Nix

  “Great, we’re late again,” Jeqi whispers. She shakes her head as she glances around the room. Atae curses and pales when she realizes the already seated class of 200 younglings is staring at the latecomers.

  In the center of the large room, Elder Warrior Feku stands fuming at the tardy younglings. He is surrounded by row after row of student stations; each circular row is larger than the previous. The classroom is big enough to fit the entire class of younglings, and one aggravated elder warrior. Framed by an angular face, Feku’s black eyes blaze with menace as he clenches his square jaw. He stands tall with broad shoulders and dark skin that contrasts with his choppy, silver hair, and his guttural voice sounds like a growl.

  “I assumed you two were eaten by a clamox beast. That is the only excuse for being late. Again.”

  Atae stares at her feet and squirms under Feku’s harsh gaze.

  “It’s my fault, Elder Warrior. I arrived late, and, as a good packmate, Jeqi waited for me,” she says.

  “Well, then you’ve lost two points for your tardiness, Atae,” Feku says. The elder warrior touches the holographic screen surrounding him with his dark, muscular hand.

  Atae watches as each occupied station receives an alert on their holographic displays, detailing her score reduction and subsequent drop in the class ranking. Jeqi dominates first position with a twenty-point lead, leaving Atae, Marqee, and Sloan to fight over the second position. Atae grumbles, knowing she will have to work extra hard today to regain her footing. Feku notices Atae’s irritation and crosses his arms before smiling at her.

  “Tell me of this plant, Atae,” he says, “and I will award you one point.”

  Eager to earn back her lost points, Atae glances at the elder warrior with a small smile. Upon seeing his expression, she realizes Feku doesn’t expect her to know anything about the plant displayed on every screen. Not willing to give up without at least trying, Atae walks to the center of the room. She stops next to Feku and examines the holographic image. Meanwhile, Jeqi slinks to her station and powers on her screen as her silver tail seeks safety around her waist.

  The holographic image reveals a small plant with spotted petals and a stem covered in long, sharp thorns. The hologram lacks the vibrant colors of reality, but Atae recognizes the deep blue petals and the pink spots filled with pollen. Returning her gaze to the elder warrior, Atae’s fuchsia eyes sparkle at her chance to shine.

  Chapter 4

  “I don’t know its name, but I’ve seen it before,” Atae says. She fidgets in front of the class and glances at Feku. The elder warrior sweeps his hand to signal for her to continue. Whipping around fast enough to rustle her cropped, blue hair, Atae addresses the class with a proud smile.

  “I’ve seen this plant on Mount Tuki after training with my father, Advisor Solum,” she says. Mentioning the private sessions always stirs up whispers of envy from her peers. After a moment, Atae continues.

  “This plant is beautiful but not vulnerable. Its thorns and pollen are poisonous. One stick can paralyze an enemy for several seconds.”

  A purebred youngling that sits behind her snickers before speaking in a grating tone.

  “What good is that? If you are so desperate in a battle to need a flower to save you, what will a few seconds do except postpone a well-deserved defeat?” the purebred says. Atae sighs at the familiar voice and twists her mouth into an annoyed frown even before her gaze reaches his smug expression.

  Sloan. Ugh.

  Atae rolls her eyes at the delight he takes from her annoyance. His facial muscles dance across his defined jaw and narrow cheeks as his dark eyes flitter with mischief. The taunting twist of his full lips sends several female hearts to flutter, but Atae only notices his snide, arrogant attitude that grates on her nerves. A season older than Atae, Sloan’s lean frame and well-toned figure mark him as a couple of seasons from full maturity.

  “Well…” Atae says. She is unprepared for the question, but she doesn’t want to lose face to her rival. “I…uh…wouldn’t use this in battle. It just isn’t practical. But don’t underestimate what a few seconds in battle could accomplish. My father told me once that battles are lost and won within just a few seconds.”

  Unimpressed by the name drop, Sloan arches one eyebrow. The class, on the other hand, hums with excitement at another mention of Advisor Solum. Ignoring the whispers, Atae narrows her eyes at Sloan and walks to her station next to Jeqi. After sitting, Atae notices her packmate’s frantic scribbling across her holographic screen. She leans over Jeqi’s tan shoulder, trying to decipher her rushed writing. Atae points her finger at a crude sketch of what looks like a fighting glove.

  “What is that?” she asks. “Are those spikes?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Jeqi says. She swats Atae’s hand away and pushes the blue-haired hybrid out of her station. Atae smirks at Jeqi’s secrecy, knowing her packmate is too much of a perfectionist to discuss incomplete projects. Atae slips into her workstation as the rest of her class settles, and Feku draws everyone’s ire by awarding her one point as promised.

  “Well done, Atae,” he says. Atae’s point addition flashes across each youngling’s station. Feku continues his lecture on the plant, revealing its name as the Blousq flower. Atae, still listening to the lesson, frowns as she highlights her class rank on her screen. She is one point behind Marqee and Sloan, both of whom are tied for the second position.

  Atae peers at the two purebred Kaji across the room and finds them both gloating with smug expressions. Marqee is the same age as Sloan with a similar build, but Sloan’s tan skin pales in comparison to Marqee’s chocolate complexion. Marqee’s attractive bone structure and deep dimples charm quite a bit of attention from the females in the class, especially when he smiles. But he falls short of the seductive allure of his packmate’s swagger.

  Atae glowers at the males, oblivious to their appeal. Sloan’s constant sarcasm and antagonistic remarks over the past twelve seasons at Sula Academy have buried any inclination toward either male. Snarling under her breath, she makes it clear that they won’t stay ahead for long. Every day is the same vicious fight for dominance. No one bothers to try to de-throne Jeqi from her top rank, but the second place has been up for grabs for several months. The constant battle has become tiresome, but Atae’s Kajian pride won’t allow her to give up.

  “Don’t let them get to you,” a quiet voice says. Atae glances to her right to find Jent, a small, meek hybrid. He watches Atae with golden, slit eyes, his third eyelid peeking out as he blinks. Gray feathers cover his body and quiver with his slightest movement. Atae once wondered, with sympathy, if the feathers covered everything but never dared to ask. Kip hybrids are not commonplace, even in Capital City, and some Kaji find the feathers and third eyelid disconcerting. Having known Jent since she began attending Sula Academy twelve seasons ago, Atae is accustomed to his unique physiology.

  Today, his third eyelid does not recede all the way, and Atae finds it unnerving. Jent quirks his head to the side with a small avian-like jerk and scrutinizes her with his golden orbs.

  “What?”

  “Are you feeling okay?”

  Jent huffs at her, offended by the question. He blinks hard, forcing his third eyelid to retreat to its customary position, even if it is a bit slower than usual.

  “I’m fine.”

  Jent snaps his attention back to Feku’s lecture, and Atae frowns at him. Like some hybrids, Jent takes after his non-Kaji parent with his timid and reclusive tendencies. Atae is unfamiliar with the Kips since Jent is the only one she’s met in person. She’s uncertain whether his meek personality is a result of his parentage or a quirk. Shrugging off Jent’s odd behavior, Atae returns to the lecture.

  “So in what region does the Blousq flower originate, Jeqi?” Elder Warrior Feku asks. She pauses in her scribbling, peers at him with her bright blue eyes, and answers without hesitation.

  “Region Alpha. Sector 2. Although, because it’s stored in the POD, the Blousq flower can
be found in several regions.”

  Nodding his head, Feku allows Jeqi to return to her work and awards her one point. The station of a purebred youngling named Tuk lights red, indicating that he has a question. All eyes are on him when he stands.

  “What’s the POD?”

  “You should know this,” Feku says. “You just learned about it last month. Is your mind incapable of storing information longer than a month, Tuk?”

  When she sees Tuk pale, Atae lights her station. She waits until the elder warrior signals for her, and then she stands to explain, hoping to earn an easy point.

  “It stands for the Protected Organism Database,” Atae says.

  “And what is it?”

  “Well, it’s a database. A really big one that stores and catalogs the genetic makeup of significant organisms.”

  “Significant organisms? What makes one organism more significant than another? Why not store them all?” Feku asks. He crosses his dark arms over his chest and leans against his station as he waits for Atae to tell him what he already knows. Familiar with Feku’s teaching methods, Atae pauses to consider the question before answering. She tries to remember previous lectures on the POD.

  “Resources?” she says. “It must take time and resources to gather the specimens and record their genetic makeup. And…they get their resources from…terraforming. They sell their terraforming services…which includes the organism’s needed to balance the ecosystem.”

  That’s it. Atae’s eyes widen in excitement as she connects the ideas humming through her mind.

  “They only collect organisms that will sell when they terraform barren planets. That way, the POD funds itself.” Atae smiles at her mentor and hopes for confirmation that her hypothesis is accurate. Feku nods.

  “That’s a fair assessment, but only the Yasp know for sure,” he says. The elder warrior motions to his station, and Atae’s ranking flashes across everyone’s screen with a two-point addition. When her rank jumps in front of her two rivals, Atae grins and glances at Sloan and Marqee. Marqee frowns and sits back in his chair as he grumbles at her. Sloan just flashes a crooked smile, and Atae raises her eyes in acceptance of his silent challenge.

  Meanwhile, Jent wonders at something Elder Warrior Feku mentioned. “The Yasp?”

  “The Yasp are G3 species. They run the POD and provide the majority of the empire’s terraforming needs, including maintenance of the Gridiron,” Feku says. He smirks when the level of excitement in the room doubles with the mention of the Gridiron. Dozens of stations light up with eager questions, but Feku eyes one student in particular.

  “Tuk,” Feku says. “Here’s your chance to atone.”

  Tuk jumps from his station at attention. The brawny youngling is always ready for a fight but hesitates, waiting for Feku’s explanation.

  “Tell me, what does G3 mean?” Feku asks, and Tuk’s face falls. Given the command, Tuk will attack a herd of clamox beasts but ask him to remember information from last month, and he flails.

  “Uh…” He glances at his packmate, Jent, for help. But Feku’s strict ‘no help’ policy keeps the feathered hybrid from mouthing the answers. “It…uh…has to do with…it has to do with generations. Three of them.”

  No, duh. Atae snorts and sits back in her chair. She sighs and glances at Jeqi while Tuk continues to babble onward. Noticing Atae’s attention, Jeqi leans close to whisper.

  “Why would anyone want him as a packmate? What good is muscle with no brain?”

  “I guess, Jent is the brain, and Tuk is the muscle.” Atae snickers, and Jeqi smiles at the jab.

  “Did you hear that the royal family is back? Maybe you’ll get to meet them,” Jeqi says. Atae wrinkles her nose at her packmate.

  “I doubt it. Solum doesn’t tell me anything about his work.”

  “Do you ever ask?”

  “That’s not the point,” Atae says. She glances back to Feku as he admonishes Tuk for his ignorance. When a thought occurs to her, Atae snaps her attention back to Jeqi.

  “Although, their arrival would explain why Father left home early this morning. We didn’t even have time for our morning training session,” Atae says. Jeqi’s eyebrows knit together in concern as she motions to Atae’s bruised cheek and split lip.

  “Your injuries,” she says. “They aren’t from this morning?”

  “Anyone else care to try an answer? What does G3 mean?” Feku asks the class before Atae can answer Jeqi’s question. Most of the stations light up, much to Tuk’s chagrin. When Feku motions for Sloan to answer, Atae sits up in her chair and glowers at her rival from across the room. Sloan glances at Atae from the corner of his eye, delighting in her aggravation.

  “It means that for every generation of Kaji that is born and then dies, three generations of Yasp are born and die. They have shorter life spans than we do, by about two thirds,” Sloan says.

  “And how many G1 species exist?”

  “Five, Elder Warrior. The Setunn, the Kips, the Runx, the Camille, and, of course, the most powerful and handsome, the Kaji.” Sloan flashes a teasing glance at one female student, and she giggles. Feku ignores the youngling’s typical behavior and remains focused on his lesson.

  “And where does the loyalty of each species lie?”

  “Well, they’ve all signed peace treaties with the Kaji Empire.”

  “That’s not what I asked,” Feku says. Sloan’s brow falls, and his playful expression twists into a severe frown.

  Atae enjoys the irritation crawling across her rival’s face, but she’s surprised to see it. One of Sloan’s most aggravating skills is hiding the expressions and emotions he doesn’t want others to see. Atae is never sure if her barbs or arguments affect him because he hides behind a mask of sarcasm.

  Why does this question bother him? Atae wonders as she watches him cross his arms over his chest. When Sloan answers Feku, he speaks in a controlled tone with a blank face that sets Atae on edge.

  “No one trusts the Camille. The treaty is still too new. The others maintain an allegiance to the Kaji Empire as a whole, but each colony, no matter their species, allies with the crest that fits their needs,” Sloan says. Atae bites her lip as she studies Sloan’s odd behavior. She’s never seen this guarded demeanor from him.

  Elder Warrior Feku huffs at Sloan’s political answer but adds two points to his class ranking. Atae fumes as her rank slips below Sloan. Expecting her rivals to taunt their victory from across the room, Sloan surprises Atae when he sits back and glares at Feku. Marqee leans toward his packmate and whispers something. Sloan shrugs his shoulders and snaps back in a hushed voice.

  Why isn’t he celebrating? Why isn’t he rubbing it in my face? Atae huffs at their odd behavior.

  “The twelve Crests of Kaji rule the twelve regions of the empire,” Feku begins but pauses. Sadness creeps into the room as the class recognizes his mistake.

  “Eleven,” Sloan says. “There’s only eleven left now.”

  “Eleven bloodlines and eleven regions.” Feku nods and takes a moment to recollect his thoughts. When he continues the lecture, Atae leans closer to Jeqi.

  “What happened to the twelfth one?” Atae asks. Surprised by the questions, Jeqi gawks at her.

  “It was destroyed during the war. Hasn’t Solum told you about it?”

  “No, why would he?” Atae says with a shrug. “The Camille managed to destroy an entire bloodline? One of the crests? How?”

  “They destroyed the entire region.”

  Chapter 5

  Solum, taking advantage of the cool evening, stands on rocky terrain high on Mount Tuki, a common training ground for young warriors. Several steps away, the rock face drops into a three-story cliff and ends in a valley of jagged stone that once formed the tip of the great mountain. Solum glances at the cliff edge before returning his attention to the wild vegetation across from him. He crosses his arms over his chest and lifts his head with a sigh as he waits. The royal advisor doesn’t need to close his eyes nor concentrate on
hearing the wildlife around him. With ease, he listens to birds chirping, rodents rustling for dinner, and even creatures ripping into the doomed carcasses of their evening meal. The wilds ignore Solum just as he ignores it until all goes quiet. Even a chattering bird in the distance falls silent, and Solum smiles.

  Atae bursts from a small patch of vegetation at Solum’s back. In one fluid motion, the youngling lurches from her hiding spot and leaps from boulder to boulder until she reaches her target, then Atae attempts a well-planned jab to Solum’s kidney. He is not quick enough to dodge the spry youngling, but he blocks the attack with a well-placed elbow. With speed earned from performing the technique hundreds of times a day for seasons, Atae rebounds from the older warrior. She lands on a nearby boulder, placing her above Solum and just out of reach of a counterattack. The youngling snaps into a defensive stance, causing the stone underneath her to rumble threateningly.

  Solum swings his leg around and destroys the boulder with a colossal strike of his heel. Unable to keep her footing as the rock crumbles underneath, Atae flails to the ground and lands in a crouch. Solum flings himself toward his attacker and barrels a massive fist into her abdomen. Anticipating his predictable response, the youngling leaps into the air with practiced ease and, with perfect timing, lands on his outstretched arm. Her weight redirects Solum’s momentum, forcing his dark fist into the ground. Atae rolls, returning to a crouch a few steps away. Without waiting for her to recover, Solum lunges for the youngling, and she spins to face him. He lashes out and lands a hard jab to her midsection, knocking the wind out of her. Following up with a punch to her face, Solum forces Atae to stumble backward. He continues with a few vicious strikes, propelling the youngling back with each blow. After pushing her to the edge of the cliff, Solum stops his assault long enough to shift his weight and plant a hard side kick into her ribcage. The force of the attack shoves the hybrid over the precipice.

  Atae panics and flails against the cliff wall, trying to slow her descent, but the youngling free falls, flipping head over heel down the rock face and into the valley below. Solum cringes as his daughter lands face down in the jagged pile of rubble. Searching for movement, he peeks over the edge, but Atae lies still at the bottom with a cloud of dust swelling around her.