by T. A. White
Joule's gaze swung to Kira, his expression exhausted and victorious.
"Well?" he asked.
Kira didn't say anything for several seconds, and uncertainty crept into Joule's posture.
"That is badass," she finally told him.
"Indeed," Finn agreed. "Holding a ki shield as complete as that at your age is impressive."
Joule basked in the oshota's praise before the happiness drained. "It's only good for defense. Not as impressive as a primus form."
Kira knocked him lightly on his head. His expression was incredulous as she pointed a finger at him. "Something like that might save lives one day. Listening to the nonsense of others or comparing yourself to them will only serve to hold you back. Develop the talents you have until you know every facet of them."
He was letting the attitudes of others influence him. If he couldn't see past what was to what could be, he'd never make it to the position of Overlord.
"Yes, it's helpful to have offensive talents, but I can think of a dozen ways something like what you showed me can be used effectively in battle." Kira's tone was harsh. "Your imagination and adaptability will stand you in far greater stead than something like a primus form."
Joule's hand dropped, and he stared at the ground for several seconds before meeting Kira's gaze. "I understand. I won't think like that again."
Yes, he would. It was inevitable. But as long as he didn't get stuck in that kind of thinking, he had a chance to exceed the limitations life had put on him.
Not that she should blame him. In this, she had a bit of an advantage on him. She'd seen skills like his before. Seen their creative application until they barely resembled the original intention behind them. If Joule had even a fraction of that person's creativity, a talent like that would stand him in good stead.
Not that she could tell him that. Trust was a valuable commodity, and some secrets weren't meant to be shared.
*
Several pairs of eyes shifted to focus on Graydon as he stepped into Harlow's office. Graydon paused in the doorway, observing the scene with the same scrutiny he would if it was a battlefield, and he needed to determine the best strategy for victory.
The analogy wasn't too far from the truth. Over the past few weeks, Graydon had begun to feel like a caged animal, hemmed in by his duties and responsibilities, his skin too tight and a coiled tension sitting in his middle.
Tuann weren't meant to sit idle for too long. War and fighting were bred into their bones. Inactivity only fostered aggression and trouble. All the discipline in the world would only delay the inevitable.
"Look who deigns to join us," Caius said from where he lounged with an insolent slouch.
Like the rest of those present, Caius was a senior member of Harlow's council. A warrior and commander of Harlow's forces in the sixth quadrant of Roake's territory.
He looked like a playboy with his hair roguishly styled, sharp cheekbones, and a cockiness that seemed to appeal to many women. The only mark that marred his perfect features was the faintest nick in his eyebrow.
Graydon throttled his desire to plant his fist in Caius's face. For one thing, it would be pointless. Caius wasn't physically there, despite appearances.
He looked as tangible and real as Graydon, but if you were to touch him, your hand would fall right through his body.
"Caius, still alive? I thought the fendrik would have killed you by now and split your body into pieces to decorate their homes with." Graydon's tone might have been mild, but his expression was not.
Caius threw his head back with a roar of amusement. "Little Storm, your mask is slipping." He shook his finger at Graydon in mock rebuke. "Someone needs to spend more time on the front lines. You're getting a tad cranky."
Graydon grunted.
He wasn't the only one. All of his oshota were showing the strains of forced inactivity.
Their presence in Roake might have been necessary, but it hadn't made the intervening weeks any easier. For warriors used to being in the thick of things, it was a difficult adjustment—especially since they had to be on their best behavior while in another House.
Roake might have once been Graydon's home, but it wasn't anymore. A certain decorum was expected.
Wren didn't have to move to draw the attention of everyone present, making it clear without words it was time to get to the reason why they'd been summoned.
Graydon quelled his impatience and moved into the room.
Silas, Makon, Maida, and Quillon all nodded respectful greetings as Graydon took a position among those of Harlow's House that the Overlord trusted most.
Although two were missing, no doubt attending to pressing matters that couldn’t be put aside, these were the men and women tasked with decisions that played a pivotal role in the House's future. All of them commanded their own people, each focused on helping Harlow oversee a House of this size.
"How are the little birds doing?" Caius asked, directing his gaze toward Maida and Wren.
Maida propped her chin on her hand. "There are several who show great potential. Others who will be lucky to be accepted into a House's lowest tier of soldiers."
Wren inclined his head in agreement.
Caius arched an eyebrow, his gaze meeting Harlow's. The Overlord showed no reaction, his expression remote.
"And what is your assessment of the person we're all likely thinking of?" Caius asked.
Wren touched a spot on the wrist of his synth armor. Numbers scrolled into sight above the Overlord's desk.
"Oof, those numbers are terrible," Caius muttered.
Indeed. They were. Astonishingly so.
"Wait. There's a pattern in the numbers," Maida said, leaning forward.
Of those present, Graydon wasn't surprised Maida spotted it first. Her affinity made her a difficult opponent to defeat, but her ability to recognize battle tactics and ferret out patterns in an enemy’s strategy were the real threats.
Maida focused on Wren. "Is it a code?"
Wren was a man given to stillness. He didn't fidget. He never lost his poise. As a result, he was one of the most difficult men to read Graydon had ever met.
He was also a contemporary of Harlow's. The two men had served in the same pod. Similar to the squads the human military sorted themselves into, a pod was a unit. The size could vary, but it was always made up of an uneven number of those with complementary talents. The bonds between a pod were considered nearly unbreakable.
Graydon's own oshota consisted of two pods of which he was the commander. It meant when they fell into a situation suited for battle, they would act as a single unit, their cohesion guaranteed.
That’s why it was so surprising to see Wren shift, the movement small and almost unnoticeable if it had been any other. This was a man used to commanding. His self-possession rivaled Harlow's. To see it disturbed meant the puzzle had been more difficult than Wren had anticipated.
"I thought so too," Wren finally admitted. "Which is why I approached the humans. Neither seemed surprised, nor were they willing to reveal its meaning."
The revelation was a startling one to those present.
"Loyalty. Who would have thought it from humans," Caius mused.
"I've witnessed the evidence for myself several times," Graydon rumbled from his spot near the window. "Somehow, she has managed to secure their loyalty, though the presentation of its depth can often take a surprising form."
From first glance, the humans seemed to have an antagonistic attitude toward her, but when it counted, they moved to provide support when needed and protection when warranted.
Graydon understood from his oshota, both humans had faced multiple challenges from the other initiates. Neither had sought out Kira for assistance in dealing with the matter. The male went so far as to intercept those who might push her for a fight, making himself a target. He did this through a combination of cutting remarks and cocky bravado.
Raider had acquitted himself quite well for someone with his limitatio
ns. The initiates were coming to understand ki wasn't the overwhelming advantage they'd assumed. Raider met them head to head, winning decisive victories almost every time.
Caius propped his elbow on something unseen, his expression unconvinced. "Are we sure we're not seeing things that aren't there?"
Finally, Harlow stirred, nodding at Graydon.
Graydon touched a spot on his forearm, flicking the data package at Harlow's desk. "These are a few clips my oshota have taken over the last week or so."
Caius stirred, focusing a gaze on Graydon that saw far more than his enemies ever gave him credit for. "And what are your oshota doing keeping an eye on the lost daughter of our House?"
"They've taken a liking to Kira." Graydon's smile barely touched his eyes. "I fear once she has progressed to the point where she can take a pod for herself, they will desert me for a chance to pledge their loyalty to her."
Surprise touched Makon's face. "High praise considering your oshota are among the elite."
Graydon dipped his head. "Praise she's earned." He glanced at Silas. "Unless you disagree."
One side of Silas's mouth twitched up. "There was more than one reason I chose to intercede when it seemed she would retreat to human space."
Caius wasn't one to be deterred, his expression faintly suspicious as he stared at Graydon. "I find it interesting you've chosen to linger on Ta Sa’Riel. It's not like you."
Graydon wasn't fazed by the abrupt change of subject, brushing it aside with the ease of long practice. "My oshota and I have been away for too long. I decided it would be wise if we reacquainted ourselves with home."
Not even Caius could argue that point. Graydon represented the emperor's interests. He'd served on consecutive front lines in the protection of his agenda.
Sometimes he was a mediator. Sometimes he was the executioner. It meant long periods away from the safety of the main planet.
Caius's expression was grudging as he let the matter drop.
The rest of them took in the image that had formed over Graydon's desk. Kira held a practice en-blade in her hand, her outfit disheveled, trees surrounding her. Her eyes were narrowed at something off-screen. Even through the holovid, it was impossible to miss the overwhelming focus in her stare.
She burst into movement between one second and the next, her form fluid as a drone dove into view, firing a barrage.
Maida leaned forward in outrage. "Is that one of my kattas? Where did she learn that?"
"Joule likely showed her," Graydon murmured. "The two are close."
"Even so, for her to have mastered it to this extent…" Maida trailed off.
Few could. Kattas took an instant to learn and a lifetime to perfect. Kira flowed through them with the ease of someone who'd practiced them relentlessly.
Her primus was one thing. It was powerful, but like all things, it had its weaknesses. Most Tuann with a primus became overly reliant on the form. They had incredible power while active, but it only lasted so long. When they reverted, it left them vulnerable and weak. More than one primus had been killed in such a moment.
This, though, pointed to hard work. Dedication. Years of sacrifice as she trained her body above and beyond.
"She watches. She learns," Graydon ignored the impatient feeling crouched in his middle. These people hadn't spent as much time around her as he had. They thought she was a child, her development delayed and hampered by her history among the humans.
They needed to adjust their thinking before Kira force-fed them their misconceptions. While he suspected that would be amusing to watch, Graydon didn't have the time to wait, nor did he think Kira would be willing to stick around after she was done.
Two more drones launched into view, quickly surrounding Kira. She evaded, a whirlwind of motion as she lured the drones into her trap, the practice blade almost hanging forgotten at her side unless needed—which was rare.
"That's not a beginner's katta. She's mixed in at least two mid-level and one high-level," Wren murmured.
"I haven't shown my initiates any of those," Maida said, her eyes glued to the image. "They're not quite the same as mine, but they're a good approximation."
Irritation and admiration mingled in her features. Graydon could practically see the other woman taking notes, already itching to get out and try some of the kattas Kira was demonstrating and see how they compared to her own.
Abruptly, Kira planted a foot on the side of a tree, propelling herself into the air. She spun like a top landing three precise strikes and disabling the drones.
They fell to the ground around her as she landed. Her balance wobbled, her eyes widening before she tumbled ungracefully to the ground.
Muttered curses could be heard as she picked herself up, her movements jerky as she knocked dirt and debris from her clothes. It was obvious this wasn't her first fall.
"Yes, yes. I know it's pointless unless I stick the landing," she growled.
Loudon frowned, speaking for the first time. "It's concerning the way she talks to herself. This isn’t the first time I’ve caught evidence of such. Isolation madness would not reflect well on our House."
Graydon's temper, already short before the meeting started, threatened to ignite at the implication. "She spent many years with humans as her role model. I'm told this is a common trait of theirs."
Isolation madness was a condition rare to the Tuann except in the case of those exiled from their Houses, who were left to roam alone. Tuann didn't often isolate themselves. They were too reliant on the bonds they formed with those of their pods and families. Those who did, occasionally went mad from the lack of companionship.
Loudon didn't retreat, his expression apologetic. "Be that as it may, she will need to be monitored closely. We don't know her history or what was done to her. It could have effects we've not anticipated."
Graydon reined in his ire. Loudon wasn't saying anything others hadn't already pointed out and would continue holding against Kira.
Harlow waved his hand, dismissing the image. "I've seen enough for now." The Overlord leaned forward, steepling his hands in front of him as the rest of them waited.
His tone was considering as he said, "As it stands now, Rheya and Blake have already passed the uhva na. They’re only waiting for their official seon’yers to be declared. It is our job to determine whether there are others among the initiates who are also ready and meet the criteria necessary for advancement."
Silence descended as they considered the Overlord's words. Such a request was out of the ordinary. Many Houses would have been overjoyed at having two pass Roake’s uhva na; to ask for more could be considered greedy.
Maida shifted, worry lingering in her eyes. "There are a few whose capabilities stand out, but I don’t want to rush. Normally, we would have several more weeks before we considered advancement."
Harlow leaned back slowly, one finger tapping against the surface of his desk. "In the normal course of things, I would agree." He gestured at the image of a frozen Kira. "But circumstances aren't normal. We can't pave the way for one, no matter how talented, without offering the same opportunity to the rest."
Wren's stare was penetrating. "You're so sure she's ready?"
Of them all, Wren understood the challenges of what Kira faced best. Probably better than even Quillon.
Like Kira, the channels through which Wren’s ki flowed had been shattered through grief and circumstances.
The rest of those present went still and silent at the reminder of that dark time. Wren had been broken, held together only by will and fortitude.
If he decided it was too dangerous for Kira to progress, not even the Overlord would overrule him.
That would be a mistake. Graydon knew Kira well enough to know she wasn't likely to linger if she felt coddled or held back. She would find a way to her ship and disappear.
Graydon had every intention of making sure that didn’t happen.
"Quillon?" Harlow asked.
Quillon's expression was ca
lm and remote. "You know I cannot share the particulars of a patient's progress."
Caius scoffed. "How predictable."
A flicker of irritation tightened Quillon's jaw. "I can, however, advise that there is no reason to delay Kira's progress unless her seon’yer truly thinks she isn't ready."
Wren didn't speak, his gaze faraway as he considered Quillon's words.
"Speak, Loudon. I know you want to." The Overlord's voice was wry.
Like Wren, the two had a long history. They were boyhood playmates. Loudon had been part of the twins’ first pod and had remained close to them even when the pod split to pursue separate paths.
"It's obvious she possesses amazing potential, but her motives and upbringing remain an unknown. It would be wise to delay her progress until we are assured it is safe," Loudon said. "I can't help but feel we would be making a mistake in allowing her to progress."
Graydon crossed his arms against his chest and regarded the man who acted as the ki's herald. "The only mistake would be in letting our preconceptions destroy her faith in us.”
Loudon's smile was gentle but firm. "Little Storm, I can respect the fact the child has caught your eye. Like her mother before her, she has a bright presence that draws us. However, you have no say in her future. She is a child. It's our responsibility as the elders of her House to ensure she remains on the proper path, despite any wishes she might have to the contrary."
Graydon held in his words by dent of will. Speaking unwisely now would damage his credibility, no matter how satisfying it would be in the short term.
"Loudon, you overstep," Maida chided as she sent Graydon an apologetic glance that was full of wry frustration.
Graydon wasn’t the only one who occasionally found the herald annoying.
Harlow's intelligent gaze watched the drama, taking everything in, but as usual, he was slow to provide his own counsel. He preferred they do the arguing for him. Only once he saw all possible outcomes would he weigh in on an issue.
"This question can be tabled for now," Harlow said. "We still have time before a decision must be made."