Rules of Redemption (The Firebird Chronicles, #1)

by T.A. White

Built from a dark metal, it nearly blended in with the black of space. Ominous and foreboding, the ship’s lines were full of sharp edges.

Enough for a new food synthesizer capable of making food that tasted like food and not the chalky crap she was currently living off.

Her new suit with its upgrades was a blessing now. It was its own miniature spacecraft, capable of the flexible maneuvering a ship would never have been able to replicate. She'd designed it to her specifications, sourced every piece of it. Now it was making all that time, effort, and money worthwhile.

aft

"Can't you fix it with one of the 3D printers we have on board?" Kira complained. That's why she had paid an arm and a leg for one after all—to make the necessary repairs when they were in the deep of space. "No. Someone decided not to pay the tax on the last batch of material, so I don't have enough to fabricate what I need." Kira looked away. She was that someone. In her defense, the tax had been increased nearly fifty percent this last time. It was robbery, pure and simple. They got away with it because most ships waited until the last minute to order the raw materials they needed for the printer. The station was one of the few in several million miles that looked the other way on some of the salvagers’ less-than-legal business endeavors.

Kira vibrated with impatience as she waited for the airlock to open. Jin was busy on the bridge, completing the docking checklist required of every ship prior to its passengers disembarking.

Kira and Jin shuffled along the terrace as Kira tried to tamp down the irritation of being surrounded by so many bodies. She’d forgotten how crazy this place was, the press of humanity almost claustrophobic. For someone used to the quiet of a small ship, this place was a madhouse. A dizzying confusion to senses adapted to solitude and plain walls. Chaos hammered at her. Voices, sights, sounds–everything drawing her nerves tighter and tighter. She took a deep breath and then another before she pushed everything away, concentrating on centering herself in the here and now.

They both stopped when they reached the kiosk, each going silent as they took in the image displayed on the front—a soldier in a Hadron class combat suit riding a waveboard into the upper atmosphere. Emblazoned on the person’s uniform was the image of a bird on fire. Behind the soldier, just breaking through the clouds, were ten more in a perfect V formation. The air was filled with fire as wreckage rained down around them, ships above dying as Tsavitee ground artillery picked them off one by one. Under the image was emblazoned, "What difference will you make?" Kira swallowed painfully, unable to move, the sight locking her in place. The Wave Runners were a specialized and elite military unit, bridging the gap between combat suit and aircraft. The hoverboard under their feet made them faster and more maneuverable than any ship ever could be. They were a product of the war. Their tactics had evolved to meet the Tsavitee's superior forces head-on—the suits and board compensating for human weakness. Humans might never be as strong or fast, physically, as the Tsavitee, but they were smart and adapted even under the worst of circumstances. The Wave Runners were perhaps the best example of that.

Kira's pulse pounded, adrenaline flooding her system. It had been a long time since she felt like this. Like she was balancing on a precarious wire and the one thing keeping her from falling was her peculiar set of skills and dumb luck.

Every one of them had their hand at their hip and seemed poised to attack. Her eyes narrowed. The station didn't allow projectile weapons on it, but she was willing to bet they had some type of blade style weapon hidden in their armor.

Something about her warned him she would one day be important to him. At home, you could sometimes feel the coming of a storm when there wasn't a cloud in the sky. He got the same feeling when he looked at her. Sometimes storms revealed hidden treasures, wiping away the old rot and replacing it with something stronger. Other times they washed everything away, leaving nothing in their wake but devastation.

Graydon's smile showed his teeth. There was little warmth in it. His chuckle filled the air, raspy and containing little humor. It was the sound a dragon made when eyeing its dinner. The prey’s struggle for survival might be entertaining, but ultimately it would fail.

"What would you do with Captain Forrest if, as you say, she is Tuann?" he asked. "She would be taken home to her people." "And if she doesn't want to go?" "She is Tuann. She will go." Graydon's order was definite. Jace ran a hand through his hair, frustration and a hint of amusement in his expression. "You really don't know her if you think that kind of logic will work on her." Graydon's eyes narrowed. "Her desires do not matter." Jace sighed. "I'll let you explain that to her." Graydon's eyebrows contracted with the faintest signs of confusion.

Not this time. This time was going to be different. Even if she had to trample a few obstacles in the shape of people to do it.

Most ships weren't equipped to communicate over the distances needed to reach any of the colonies or stations dotted throughout human space. Their reach was limited, a solar system or two in most cases. It was possible to upload your files to the broadband satellites from the ship when you stopped at any station, but transmission was slow and laborious. It could take a week or more, depending on the data load and whether a bigger fish paid for priority transmission. That's where the cafes came in. For a fee, you could piggyback off the station's network, one usually kept in much better repair than the civilian side.

Once upon a time, before she took up a solitary life and when she still hung around people, she'd been told her gaze could be disconcerting, that something about the way she locked onto someone challenged them on a primal level, leaving them with the twin urges of fight or flight. People who met her eyes when she was angry or upset wouldn't do so for long, finding a reason to look away. In extreme cases leaving the room for another. She'd never understood what they were talking about—until now. Holding the stranger's gaze took physical effort. It was like trying to stare down a tiger, knowing he was considering how much of a struggle she'd make if he decided to eat her.

A three-tone bell chimed that the station's night had begun. Above, the lights dimmed as the station's dome began to fold back to reveal the deep black of space. A thin, transparent membrane kept the atmosphere inside, allowing those below a glimpse of a star-speckled sky. Those inside the shops ventured outside as the dome receded, pointing up and gasping in wonder as the lights in the honeycomb winked out one by one. Even Kira in her urgency stole a second to look up, the sight of the cosmos stealing her breath. Purple and blue dust filled one corner of space, the rest dotted with millions of stars. It was beautiful and one of many reasons people took pilgrimages to this place, the view unspoiled by a planet’s atmosphere or ambient light.

"You look good," he said, his eyes warm and soft. "You've gotten old," she said, the words a bit more abrupt than she intended. Her social skills had grown rusty from disuse. To be honest, they'd never been that great in the first place.

It was one of many reasons for her self-imposed isolation. Her oddities were a little easier to take when they weren't thrown in her face on a regular basis. She might look human, but she wasn't. That fact had been made clear to her a long time ago.

"You always have to do things the hard way." "It's the only way I know to be." Kira didn't let herself feel bad about that fact. Maybe once, before she'd rebuilt herself from the ground up, but now, she embraced all her jagged edges.

"What do you know about my ship?" Kira barked. "Parts from a Tsavitee cruiser in your engine, a new power source none of my engineers can explain and a drive capable of at least three times the speed your ship is classed for. To say nothing of the weapons and defenses it shouldn't have," Himoto said, almost admiringly. "Jin does good work."

She'd learned many hard lessons about the peril of letting hope run away with you. It was the ultimate liar, an illusion turning smart people into fools, sundering their hearts from their chests when hope inevitably crashed them against the rocky shore.

a wild feeling surged in her chest as the sense of being trapped closed in all around her.

fulminating

"It looks like a Raven class." Raven class, named for the small wing-like protrusions on each side and the utter black of its hull, it was a reconnaissance ship. Hard to spot with the naked eye and nearly impossible to track with instruments, it had slipped through the lines during the war with ridiculous ease.

William Black was known to the others as Nova. The other man was Luke Rogers or Maverick.

mitigating

She much preferred the energy edged swords adapted from the katanas of ancient Japan.

Abruptly, Kira remembered what it was like to be hunted, to have adrenaline flood your system as every one of your senses revved into overdrive as danger stalked your every move.

enigmatic

Ziva was going to have to look elsewhere for a role model. She'd gotten out of the business of hope a long time ago.

She filled her lungs before releasing it slowly. Things could be worse. Yes, she hadn't meant to tip her hand quite so thoroughly, but she'd managed to keep from using the power hiding at her core. That was something at least. Small wins and all that.

The chaterling stood on its hind legs and scolded her before settling down. The size of her palm, its fur was a light shade of blue with stripes of darker blue along its back and legs. Two mini horns curled away from its forehead, and long flat ears stuck out from its head. Two pools of dark brown regarded her as it cocked its head, its tiny wings rising and then settling along its back. Its long tail whipped to circle her neck before it rubbed the side of its face against hers.

auspicious

"You think she's dual House? You think she's the missing heir for Roake?"

"I'm going to appeal to his better nature," Graydon said. Solal sighed. "You mean you're going to threaten him." Graydon shrugged. Same difference.

starboard

The shuttle gave the slightest of shimmies as it slipped into the atmosphere. It was the easiest transition Kira had ever experienced. Of course, she was normally in a military drop ship, whose primary goal was getting its cargo to the ground as quickly and efficiently as possible. Most times that included staying in one piece, but not always.

"That was the Mea'Ave, the mother of the planet." Kira watched him blankly. That told her nothing. He seemed to understand. "Your people have a name for us, don't they? Wizards, I believe." Kira didn't confirm or deny. It was unclear whether he found the name insulting or not. "They're not far off," he admitted. "Our home is capable of filling us with the Mea'Ave. We can manipulate its energy, turn it to other uses to fit our needs. Other societies have often misinterpreted this as magic." Kira kept her reaction to that under control. "What you experienced was the planet feeling your plight and offering itself up to heal you." "I'm not injured," Kira pointed out. Graydon rubbed his neck. "You've been separated from her for decades. All Tuann exist off her energy in part; it's what renews us. The Mea'Ave must have interpreted your low reserves as dangerous and tried to adjust them for you." And Kira's body would have viewed that as an attack after what amounted to years of starvation and tried to hold onto what it had gathered. "I see." She did, but only in part. "You said you were afraid of this. Why wasn't I warned beforehand?" "It shouldn't have been this severe," Graydon said, his expression contemplative. A hint of trouble pulled at his mouth. "It reacted like you were near death's door. Why is that?" Kira didn't like the question. "It's your crazy planet, you tell me." Graydon's head tilted as he studied her. "You're keeping secrets, coli." She snorted, not letting hi...

The leader of these new guards strode toward Graydon, a gold cape flapping in the wind. He looked like a holo actor from a period drama of a time in Earth's history when they fought battles with swords and arrows, a hero come to rescue the princess from the dragon. He was a handsome man, secure in his position with just a trace of arrogance and superiority stamped on his features. His blond hair shone in the sun, furthering the impression he was some unattainable prince. Kira disliked him on sight.

"Bring her, but the human toy stays here." "Not happening. He goes where I go." She gave him a friendly smile. Those who knew her would have warned him to be careful. Kira rarely smiled like that unless she was planning something—usually something painful and embarrassing for someone else.

Ayela.

"It doesn't look very defensible." Graydon's gaze shifted to Kira, a hint of wry humor on his face. "Don't let the Luathan's obsession with beauty fool you. They’ve managed to hold their position of dominance for many years. Just because something is pretty doesn't mean it won't bite."

seneschal,

salvo.

Kira jolted awake from a restless sleep. The cobwebs of her nightmare still clinging to her—madness and death all around, the dying screams of her closest friends ringing in her ears. For several moments, Kira stared up at the ceiling, disoriented. This wasn't her bunk on the Wanderer. The bed was too comfortable and there was no soft gleam of the emergency lights.

The night felt alive around her, making her forget the dream as she relaxed into its song. The sound of the wind moving through the trees, the rustle of branches, the calls of alien animals and insects, all making their own music.

It was totally different than what she was used to. Ships were by no means quiet places. There was always air hissing through the vents, the grumble of the engine, the creak of metal as the ship flexed around you.

She tilted her head and looked up. At least one thing hadn't changed. The stars still shone. Perhaps not as brightly or vividly, given the three moon...

Roderick hadn't even taken the time to investigate. He hadn't sent his men to sweep the perimeter or make sure there were no other points of insertion. For all he knew, the attack on Kira was a decoy used to gain access to the House for some other agenda. Was his lack of concern because this was an attack on her? Or was this their normal operating procedure? Either way, it pointed to a dangerous lack of foresight. Had the safety of the Citadel and those inside been Kira's responsibility, she would have made sure to hunt the perpetrators no matter who their target. It said bad things about your leadership if someone under your protection could be hurt with impunity. It was only a matter of time before others attacked too. The same thoughts seemed to have occurred to Graydon, his expression darkening further.