Hold Fast Through the Fire

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Hold Fast Through the Fire Page 8

by K. B. Wagers


  They said this all without taking their eyes off the screen in front of them, and flew the craft through the big hologram sign that read finish line.

  “Time: three oh-four.” Sapphi’s voice was on the main com and Chae made a face.

  “What?” Max asked. “That’s great.”

  “It’s just . . . I could have done it in two fifty-nine. Should we go again?”

  “God no, my stomach couldn’t take it.” Max patted Chae on the shoulder as she stood. “Good job, Chae.”

  “You okay?” Jenks asked as Max opened the simulator door. She grinned up at her. “You look a little green.”

  “They’re a hell of a pilot, better than I will ever be. Honestly, I might make you navigator for the races, though.”

  “Can’t do that, LT,” Sapphi replied. “Has to be an officer.”

  “I’ll make Nika do it, then. Chae certainly doesn’t need my help and I’m not sure my nerves can take it.” She leaned against the simulator bulkhead and rubbed her hands over her face. “That was wild, Sapphi. Put them into the pilot slot, and lock it in. I’ll stay at navigation, for all the good I’ll do. They’re going to win every single race by a landslide on that talent alone.”

  “I’m not that good, LT,” Chae protested, and Max spun on them with a raised finger.

  “You are that good.”

  “Don’t argue with her, kid,” Jenks said with a laugh. “Once LT decides something, that’s what’s going to happen.” She clapped Chae on the shoulder. “Come on, we’ve got some maintenance work to do on Zuma before we head out tomorrow.”

  Max watched them go, concealing the frown that wanted to escape because she knew Sapphi was watching her. Chae’s deadline to tell the others about their secret was up and Max was reasonably sure she’d have heard about it from Jenks if the spacer had fessed up.

  But they hadn’t, which meant she was going to have to talk to Nika and see what he wanted to do.

  “I’ll have to run all the projections, but we may actually have a chance at winning the prelims,” Sapphi said, breaking through Max’s thoughts. “I still need to see how we can work as a team for the Boarding Action and the Big Game, but Chae flying like that will give us a huge boost in the numbers I’ve compiled.”

  “I wouldn’t count Nika out just yet, either,” Max murmured.

  “I’m not. It’s just, have you seen him fight?”

  Max shook her head and Sapphi sighed.

  “I haven’t, either. Can I say something, Lieutenant?”

  The fact that the ensign used her rank made Max look away from Jenks and Chae and at Sapphi instead. “You sure you want to, Ensign?”

  “No.” Sapphi sighed. “But I feel like I should. Is it just me, or is Nika avoiding us?”

  “How do you mean?”

  Sapphi waved a hand. “He wasn’t here to watch this and I kind of assumed he would be. He seems distant in quarters and is on private coms more than usual, especially back to Earth. I know it’s different for you and for Chae. Tamago, Jenks, and I, though? It’s not the Nika who left us and I feel like we were all expecting it to be.”

  “It’s barely been two weeks since he got back.”

  “I know, but—” Sapphi’s shoulders slumped and she looked down at her hands for a moment before looking back up at Max. “I guess I’m wondering if I’m doing something wrong by behaving like everything is back to normal?”

  Max chewed on the inside of her cheek as she tried to come up with an answer. The problem was, Sapphi wasn’t wrong. Nika had been reserved, more so than even she’d expected. However, expecting things to be back to normal wasn’t the least bit realistic. There was no normal.

  Everything had changed in the last two years. Not just Nika. And with all the work they were doing for the task force, it just kept changing.

  “You’re not doing anything wrong,” she finally said. “This is going to be an adjustment for all of us. I’ll admit part of me sort of wishes we weren’t doing a run at the prelims this year.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “It’s pressure we don’t need?” Max rubbed at the back of her neck and made a face. “On the one hand it’s good for us, gives us all something to focus on in the chaos of picking up and moving to Trappist. On the other, what if we win? Are we a good enough team to take on the other branches? Or would letting Dread Treasure and Honorable Intent take the lead on this be a better plan? We have an important job to do; right now the Games feel secondary to that.”

  “I hadn’t really thought about it,” Sapphi admitted. “I know I get too wrapped up in the Games sometimes, and you’re right. This task force is essential. I wasn’t born until after the Free Mars riots, but I’ve read about them and I don’t want to see that happen on Trappist. I don’t want to be a part of it.”

  “I know. I’d like to think the CHN learned from their mistakes and that’s why we’re getting involved now rather than waiting until after it’s too late to make a difference.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Sapphi’s sigh was soft. “My projections for the preliminaries were actually good even factoring Nika at a baseline, but I can’t make accurate predictions unless I see him fighting.”

  Max didn’t chide her for the subject change and instead checked her DD. “The team calendar says Nika’s supposed to be in the gym with D’Arcy,” she said. “Do you want to go down and take a look?”

  “Please? It’s not like I can order him to let me watch.” Sapphi grinned, but it faded quickly. “I feel guilty for focusing on this sometimes, LT.”

  Max slipped an arm around Sapphi’s shoulders and hugged the slender, brown-haired ensign to her side as they headed for the low-g tube that led to the gym. “I get what you mean. But the Games are as much a part of us as the mission is, and lying to ourselves that they’re not isn’t very productive. You enjoy doing it and we all appreciate the work you put into this, but I also have never once thought you would put this above what we do day in and day out. We’ve all seen the good that came from us winning the first Games—the budget increases, the bump in recruiting, the new ships, the way the press talks about us. It’s why we show up.”

  “Kicking Navy’s ass three years in a row would be pretty sweet, too.”

  Max chuckled. “Some things never change. But some things do, and the only thing we can do is take each day as it comes. I have faith that our team can overcome anything headed our way—both in the Games and in the black—as long as we remember to trust each other.”

  But even as she said the words, Max’s thoughts wandered to Chae and the unshakable feeling that there was something her new Neo wasn’t telling her.

  I just wish I knew how to get them to trust me.

  Eight

  “You know Stephan sent me a message the other day.”

  “Did he?” Nika gave D’Arcy a look as he slipped his practice sword out of its sheath. They were in the back corner of the mostly deserted gym, and he was appreciative of the man’s awareness in picking a time to spar when most folx were on duty, even if Nika should have been watching Chae’s piloting test with Max and the others. Instead he was here precisely because he knew they were otherwise occupied.

  Similarly, his own uncomfortable feelings about his arm had pushed him to hit the gym to practice in the early morning hours when the space was also quiet and sparsely populated. He was determined to do better if the rest of the team was set on a Games run, and the extra practice was always a good thing.

  You’re going to have to get over people watching you fight, Vagin, unless you make a command decision here and pull Zuma from the running for the Games entirely.

  “So what did Stephan have to say?” he finally asked D’Arcy, his tone as noncommittal as he could make it.

  D’Arcy grinned. “He wanted to go over this task force plan for Trappist before we head out. However, he also asked me to talk with you.”

  “Is he going to mother-hen me behind my back from five hundred and eighty-eight million kilomet
ers away?” Nika asked with a laugh.

  “No, I think he wants me to do it while in your face.”

  “You can tell him I’m fine.”

  “He said you’d say that.” D’Arcy rolled his left shoulder as he stepped into the ring. “We all know you’re a terrible liar, Nik. And no matter what Stephan wants, I’m not your babysitter—”

  Nika snorted. “Too fucking right.”

  “I am your friend,” D’Arcy finished, his voice cool. He leveled Nika with a look that sucked the humor out of the space like air rushing out of an airlock. “So is Stephan, and friends look out for each other.” He spun his sword. “Anyhow, when you’re ready.”

  Nika wasn’t entirely sure whether D’Arcy meant ready to talk or ready to fight, but it seemed the easier solution was to start sparring rather than admit everything going on in his head right this second.

  I’m apparently a better liar than you realize.

  D’Arcy obliged, meeting him in the center of the ring, blocking Nika’s opening strike. Nika shook off the impact and spun to the side, a move that announcers had called “impossibly graceful” more than once in his NeoG career.

  It wasn’t impossible, though. It was genetics and years of training. Nika’s mother had been a dancer. His grandmother also. And before that a line of family stretching back before the Collapse who’d been part of the once great Bolshoi company.

  Nika could still remember the early days, before his father’s drinking ruined everything. The lessons, his mother’s endless grace and poise, learning to mimic her walk. They’d been a family then, young and hopeful with the whole world in front of them.

  Now he had the captain of Dread Treasure in front of him. The dulled swords rang against each other. Nika relaxed into the fight, ducked under a wild swing D’Arcy tossed his way and easily avoided the follow-up strike he knew was coming. For the first time in two years Nika felt some joy well up inside him.

  Rehab had been six dark months of pain and misery. He’d been angry at the world, trying to hide it from everyone. Trying not to take it out on everyone.

  Even after the prosthetic had been fitted and calibrated and the doctors cleared him for activity, Nika had spent another two months ignoring his sword. The simple tasks came as easily as the doctors had promised. It was strange to pick up a coffee mug; however, he could do it and drink from the damn thing without spilling all over himself. But coffee was just something he consumed. His sword . . . that was supposed to be a part of him, an extension of him. He couldn’t stand the idea of it not feeling natural.

  D’Arcy swore as Nika slipped past his guard and scored a touch on him. “You haven’t gotten any slower, that’s for sure.”

  Nika grinned and saluted with his sword as he stepped back. “You have, apparently.”

  “Oh, I see how it is.” D’Arcy saluted back and they clashed again.

  The rhythmic ringing of practice swords was a sound that had always eased Nika’s nerves. He hadn’t even considered how good he’d been at sword fighting until the academy. His mother had been long dead by that point and some part of him still grieved at how she’d never gotten to see him compete.

  Never saw him dance.

  Baba did at least. I hope she told Mom all about it in the afterlife.

  The sword almost felt right in his hand now. That had been Stephan’s doing, the Intel commander showing up day after day to drag Nika—sometimes forcibly—out the door to the gym. Stephan had drilled him for hours, an unrelenting taskmaster who refused to give up.

  Or let Nika do the same.

  Nika narrowly avoided D’Arcy’s attack, but missed the follow-up. D’Arcy used the hook on the end of his sword to send Nika’s sword spinning across the floor of the ring.

  “You have to use it, Vagin. It’s the only way you’ll get used to it being a part of you.”

  “What if I don’t want it?”

  Stephan had stopped, lowering his sword and studying Nika with those intense blue eyes of his. “Do you really not? You didn’t have to take the prosthetic, Nika. Plenty of people choose not to.”

  “I did—I thought—I don’t know.” Nika dropped his own sword and followed it to the mat, grateful that they were alone in the gym so no one else could see his tears. “I don’t fucking know, Stephan.”

  “Hey.” Stephan went to a knee next to him; the warmth of his hand on Nika’s back grounded him some. “Look at me. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m a fucking mess.” Nika couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him.

  “Given everything that’s happened in the last few months I figure you’re entitled to be a mess,” Stephan replied. He reached a hand out, laying it on Nika’s right forearm.

  “I’ll say it again,” Stephan continued, “you don’t have to have this to be a whole person. Choosing it doesn’t diminish what you’ve lost. It would be bullshit for me to tell you what to do as someone who’s never had to go through this, so what I will tell you is I’m your friend and I’m here to help you however I can.”

  Nika spotted Max and Sapphi as he bent to pick up his sword. The pair was standing off to the side—Sapphi with that slightly faraway look that indicated she was checking something on her DD chip, Max with her arms crossed over her chest and those brown eyes of hers coolly assessing.

  Remember when I said you were going to have to get used to performing for a crowd? Looks like the time is now.

  “You want to quit?” D’Arcy asked after a glance at the pair.

  “Nah, I’m good. Let’s go.”

  “I got arrested.”

  Jenks sat up faster than she should have and bashed her head on the piping above her. “Motherfucker. No, I’m fine.” She locked a hand on Chae’s arm before the spacer could wriggle away. “Unless I’m bleeding. Am I bleeding?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, you want to run that by me again? Because it sounded like you just said you got arrested.” It wasn’t often Jenks could use her size as an intimidation tactic, but in this small space of Zuma’s underbelly, with Chae on their back, it seemed to work wonders.

  “I did.”

  “When?” Jenks frowned. “I mean, obviously previous to getting here. I feel like I would have heard about it if it had happened in the last two weeks. What the actual fuck, Chae—why is this the first I’m hearing about it?”

  “I was . . .” Chae swallowed and the story spilled out, a little disjointed, but enough to make perfect sense.

  Jenks rubbed at the bump on her forehead and sighed. “Do Max and Nika know?”

  Chae nodded. “The lieutenant said I could tell everyone else however I wanted to, but that I had two weeks. Which is up when we go out into the black. I’m sorry I waited so long, I just didn’t know how to do it.”

  “I mean, just coming right out and saying it is fine, even if you tried to run like Prince Harry after.”

  “Like who?”

  Jenks waved her hand. “Not the point. Next time, can I ask that you not tell me important shit while I’m under something that’s going to put a dent in my skull?” Jenks blew out a breath as the relief flooded her. At least she didn’t have to figure out how to tell the others. “Cuttin’ it close to the wire there. You ashamed of it, Chae?”

  “No.” The kid seemed surprised by the question. “No, I chose this. We needed the supplies. I planned it. I was fine with taking the responsibility. And it put me here.”

  There was something more there, Jenks could see it buried in the back of Chae’s nervous expression, but she didn’t push. Instead she lay down on the deck next to them and went back to work.

  “You know I grew up on the streets, yeah? Hand me that eight-five-mil wrench, will you?”

  “Yes, Chief.”

  Jenks took the wrench, resisting the urge to tap Chae with it in frustration at their formality. “This conduit likes to get gummed up, so you have to take it apart every so often and clean it out. It feeds into the secondary power supply that runs from t
he tanks to the nonessentials. In a pinch you can pull it and attach to the main line there so it loops back to essential systems.” She reached out and tapped the line above her head. “Real useful if you need to boost your com signal or make your life support last longer. It keeps the bleed-off lower, and out in the black those extra five hours can save your life and the lives of your crew. What you don’t want to do is attach the green feed to that blue line up there.” She pointed. “It’s complicated, but it’ll send a live charge up to the bridge that will short out everything in the ship.

  “Anyway, I grew up on the streets,” Jenks repeated without missing a beat. “Never worried about anyone but myself, never trusted anyone but myself. The couple of times I tried, it ended badly. It’s kind of a shitty way to live, but it kept me alive. Of course, when I got out of it?” She sucked air in between her teeth and turned her head to look at the Neo.

  “It took me a really long time to realize I wasn’t going to lose Nika and all this if I fucked up. I’ve done some shit, Chae. Most of it was to survive, so if you think I’m going to judge you for what you did to keep your family and your people alive? Think again. I’m good with it. Tamago and Sapphi will be fine with this, too. We’ll find them as soon as we’re done here so you can tell them. Understood?”

  “Yes, Ch—”

  “I swear to god, kid, if you call me Chief one more time I’m going to brain you with this wrench and tell Nika you tripped over your own feet and fell down the stairs.”

  “I won’t believe you,” a voice said from above them.

  Jenks glanced over and saw Nika’s boots. She threw a wink at Chae as she snorted loud enough for her brother to hear. “Hand me that bucket, Commander, before I open this and get goo all over your shiny boots.”

  Nika laughed and dropped into a crouch, handing the bucket over. Jenks held it and tipped her chin at Chae. “It’s loose enough, just twist it open and immediately put the line in here.”

 

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