Facets of Revolution (The Firebird Chronicles, #4)

by T.A. White

Stranger still was the idea that she was standing face-to-face with the man Graydon had sworn his allegiance to. It felt uncomfortably like meeting her significant other’s parents for the first time. Except this parent was the leader of an entire race. No pressure or anything. It wasn’t like her entire future and that of Jin’s rested on his good will or anything.

The emperor pretended not to hear her as he drew two fingers along the tear, fusing the metal in a nearly invisible line. Fascinated in spite of herself, Kira stepped forward to run a finger along the tear. She was barely able to feel the raised ridges. “You should be using your soul’s breath for these types of repairs. It allows for a more even distribution of molecules, making for a stronger weld.”

He didn’t know what it was like to feel himself dying a little bit more each time he tapped into his power. The sensation of thorn-filled vines wrapping themselves around her organs, pulling tighter and tighter until it was difficult to breathe. Kira didn’t know if she’d ever be capable of such casual use of her soul’s breath.

“Welcome aboard the Wanderer. I am Jin and I will be your pilot today. Please note that the ride may be a tad bumpy. Seats are interspersed throughout the ship for your comfort but will do jack shit to save you should we crash.”

“Ah—I would like to remind those who forced their way onto our ship that we are not liable for any mental or physical distress that you may experience during the journey. Barf bags are located in the latrines. Thank you and please don’t die.” The speakers crackled as they cut out. “That is an interesting way of welcoming strangers aboard,” the emperor observed. “Almost like your passengers aren’t welcome at all.” Kira flashed him a humorless smile. “If you wanted politeness, you’re on the wrong ship.” He’d find none of that here.

Unfortunately for him, Kira was the epitome of surprise. She didn’t have to go looking for trouble. It always found her. That fact made Finn a tad grumpy and prone to believing that she was the cause when things went wrong. To be fair, she usually was.

“All loose items are secure during re-entry,” Kira answered. “It’s safer that way.” It was a lie, but Kira didn’t think telling the emperor of Jin’s irrational fear of a crash landing would go over so well. Right now, the Tuann thought Jin was nothing more than an advanced artificial intelligence. Kira wanted to keep it that way.

Kira’s seon’yer, Wren, along with the rest of his pod had been a constant presence on the Wanderer throughout their return journey.

“He did leave Maksym behind, however,” Raider added. Ah. Great. The overly chipper oshota had been Kira’s training partner recently. The man was so damn smiley all the time. That, if nothing else, put her on guard against him. Nobody deserved to be that happy outwardly. Nobody.

“Wait a minute, Kira.” Jin sounded distracted as he zoomed toward Kira, stopping next to her head. “Something is strange.”

A second ship followed the first, cutting over in a narrow miss. “These people are idiots,” Jin hissed, sounding enraged. Kira yanked back on her throttle, sending the Wanderer roaring forward as she threatened to ram the other ship. The Tuann vessel veered, listing to the side in its hurry to avoid them. “You’re so mean.” Jin couldn’t hide his delight at that fact.

“Was that wise?” the emperor asked from where he’d been silent until now. Kira shrugged as she turned control of the ship over to Jin. “Probably not.” In truth, it would have been better not to pick a fight that would distract from her reasons for returning to the planet. “It was fun though,” Jin interjected. The emperor’s attention never left Kira. “Then why?” Kira rose from her seat, taking a moment to stretch. “They thought I could be bullied. I taught them otherwise.”

“I’ve found it best to start as I mean to go on,” Kira explained. It was better for the Tuann to learn the type of person they were dealing with now rather than later. As dangerous as this stunt was, the lesson might cut down on the future body count.

The Tuann were a violent race. Even during times of peace, their lives revolved around challenges for power and dominance. It was one of the reasons they had so many rules regarding their behavior. It was to keep them from ripping each other’s heads off for no reason.

It was a facet of her birth race that Kira understood. Inactivity and boredom had always been dangerous companions for her, leading her to seek out trouble on more than one occasion. Now that they’d challenged her and lost, it would be a while before they tested her again. It was...

“You understand us better than expected for one who has spent such a short time in our co...

“Bring me back a coffee,” Raider instructed. Kira pulled a face. “You know I don’t keep that nasty stuff on my ship.” Humans and the Tuann didn’t share the same taste buds. Whereas Kira wouldn’t wish that bitter, dirt tasting sludge on her worst enemy, humans craved it. She’d been threatened with bodily harm on more than one occasion when Raider and the rest of the Curs ran out. “That’s why I added my own stash,” Raider called at her back as the emperor followed her into the corridor.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but this does not look like a kitchen,” Torvald observed. Kira took a deep breath. “No, it does not.” Gone were her sad looking table and its pair of chairs. It was replaced by weapons cabinets that lined one entire wall. Her guns were arranged in neat little lines inside. Everything securely in place. The crates containing her ammo and other demolition paraphernalia were stacked to one side. That wasn’t all Kira found as she opened one of the weapons lockers. Tuann weapons were stashed inside.

The ship was as much his creation as hers. He had this thing wired with microphones and other sensors that enabled him to listen in on conversations anywhere in the ship. Kira had drawn the line at cameras, not wanting to feel like an animal in a zoo, but she’d conceded on the listening devices. She’d been a very different person in the early days after her coma. She’d walked a little too close to the edge, taking chances that were almost suicidal. Jin had needed a way to check on her while letting her wallow. This had been their compromise.

She stopped abruptly on the threshold of what should have been her armory, only to find it restored to the functionality it possessed when Kira first bought the ship. No, Kira took that back. It was far nicer than the kitchen the ship had back then. A stove and oven that looked of Tuann origin was surrounded by beautiful cabinets; the likes of which Kira had never seen on a ship. Made from a weathered wood, the kitchen looked like something that belonged in a cozy cottage. A table took up the middle of the room. Far larger than her original and built to accommodate a decent sized group of people. Kira suspected an artisan had crafted that table. It was too beautiful to be something that was mass produced. The entire kitchen was far grander than a ship like the Wanderer deserved. Hell, it was nicer than many kitchens she’d been in on most planets. “Oh good. You’re finally here. What do you think?” a voice asked from behind her. Kira looked over her shoulder to find a Tuann giving her a wide, friendly smile that begged for praise. Raider lurked in the hallway beyond him, a hand raised, not quite covering the snicker she could see forming.

the Tuann who was soon to be renamed as the bane of her existence. Maksym was considered short by Tuann standards, though still taller than Kira and Raider. What he lacked in height he made up for in the width and breadth of his shoulders. His orange hair stuck up in tufts, making him seem almost harmless. Charming even. Like a giant puppy bouncing around for attention. Kira knew better. This was the same person who’d subjected her to marathon long training sessions where he basically pounded her into the ground while never once losing his smile.

There were certain things you never touched on a ship that wasn’t yours. The armory was foremost among them. Let alone relocate rooms.

Maksym slunk close, wrapping Kira in a bear hug before she could dodge. For such a muscular man, he was quick on his feet. Maksym rubbed his cheek against the top of Kira’s head. “Grump Grump. Don’t be so dour. You know your closet couldn’t continue to accommodate everyone. This was the best solution.” Kira squirmed, trying to break free of his grip. She slapped at his hands and arms. When that didn’t work, she aimed a kick at the side of his knee. Maksym turned with the blow, never once losing that annoyingly amiable smile. Sick of that expression, Kira planted a hand on the side of his face and shoved.

“How many times have I told you not to call me Grump Grump? It’s Kira. Phoenix on occasion. Nix or Nixxy, if you’re dear to me.” Which at the moment, Maksym was not. Raider skirted past them in the hallway, entering the kitchen. “Don’t forget Nixxy Poo.” Kira pointed at Maksym in warning. “No. Don’t ever call me that....

a soft glow ran through the tiny grooves she hadn’t noticed before. Fine lines raced across the surface. Metal unraveled, a sword extending from the hilt, the same glowing lines that were on the hilt wrapping along the metal of the sword’s length as well.

“It’s not an en-blade. It’s something much rarer but just as good.” Torvald handed the hilt back to Kira. “The akieri has fallen into disuse because of the amount of control and concentration you need to operate it. Most warriors prefer the en-blade because it can be used even when you’re low on ki.”

Torvald stepped into the kitchen. “I was told your connection with others was tenuous but that doesn’t seem to be the case.” “No, you were told right. I resist anyone getting close,” Kira admitted, following him. She could see the confusion though. “Raider has the advantage of knowing me longer than most.” Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t pretend at a distance with him. Their history made that impossible.

“And Maksym is Maksym.” The oshota was one of those rare specimens who was even more stubborn than Kira. He’d determined he would be the big brother she’d never had and no amount of resistance on her part would deter him. Kira might have a lot in common with a porcupine, bristling anytime someone got close, but even she had her limits. Resisting Maksym had proven more tiring than previous comrades. She’d found it easier to give in on some things. Besides, his training was helpful. Kira’s control of her soul’s breath had improved by leaps and bounds under his guidance.

Two packets of freeze-dried chai. They were from a brand she didn’t normally buy because of how expensive it was. Maksym must have added it to her stash. Though she wondered how he knew it was her favorite human drink.

The energy field masking his face was permeable. Kira wondered if that was by the emperor’s control or if anything could penetrate the field.

“I would be a fool if I didn’t recognize when our own technology was being used against me.” Torvald nodded at the spot next to Kira. “Join us. As fun as it’s been to watch you attempt to spy on me over the past few weeks, that game is at an end.” The look Kira gave Jin held reproach. “Tell me you didn’t.” Jin cleared his nonexistent throat. “I’ll explain later.”

Torvald caught her as the ship did another of its maneuvers. “Is this type of excitement normal for you?” “I’d really like to say no.”

The Wanderer had seen more than its share of this type of excitement. There was that time on Galileo where they ripped half the belly of the ship off. Then there were those pirates near New Neptune who thought they were easy pickings and tried to commandeer her ship. Such stories numbered in the dozens. Sometimes she thought they were cursed.

“It seems I didn’t know what I was getting into when I boarded,” Torvald observed as Kira staggered toward the door. Rather than concerned, Torvald seemed almost amused by that fact.

“Status report.” “Everything is fucked,” ...

“You want a briefing. Here it is. The system’s defenses attacked us and they’re getting ready to do so again.” Raider sounded stressed. “They have mines, Kira. Mines.” “The Hakeeb, those things he’s calling mines, are the least of his problems,“ Torvald said. “Soon your human’s piloting will trigger the secondary layer of defenses.”

“Don’t worry about us, Auntie. I’ve got Joule and Ziva and we’re already strapped in,” Elena responded.

Ki shields aren’t meant to deflect that kind of fire power. We’d need someone with a shield affinity who has been trained in that art,“

“Our defenses wouldn’t be worth much if every Tuann could circumvent them.” Joule’s voice came through the line. “I can help.” Kira hesitated. Joule wasn’t wrong. As the only person on the ship with the affinity they needed, he could be of help. The problem was that Joule was still young. He was at the beginning of his training. As talented and determined as he was, that would only take him so far in a situation like this. Kira made a split-second decision. “Do it.” Joule would never get the chance to grow into the man she knew he could be if he didn’t survive.

“Do you know what the worst feeling in the world is? It’s being powerless as you watch the world burn around you.”

From the looks of things, it appeared the mines were forcing them toward the planet. It was not a tactic Kira would have predicted. She’d expect the mines to try to keep them away from the planet. Kira cursed silently to herself. What did she want to bet she had a guess as to why? Ta Sa’Riel was protected by a planet wide defense system that Kira and Elena had already run afoul of once during their previous exit from the planet. The moment they got close to the planet they’d be besieged on two sides. There would be no escape then.

“That is an interesting tactic in the face of certain death,” Torvald observed, studying Jin and Raider as they fought over who would be the pilot. “This is my ship! I should be the one at the helm,” Jin argued. Kira spared them a quick glance as the ship tilted left and then right. “You get used to it.” “You have a history of making bad piloting decisions,” Raider snapped back. “That’s Kira. Not me.”

“Who is the one responsible for burning out the engines on Castaway?” Raider pointed out. “Who flew us into that asteroid in the Kuiper belt? You, Tin Can. Both times, you.”

“It’s good to hear your voice,” Kira admitted. Graydon inclined his head. “As it is yours.”

Jin was slower to trust than even Kira. He’d been hurt too many times in the past by those who denied his existence. They couldn’t conceive of a drone possessing a soul or self-will. Those who did often looked at him like he was a monster.

Jin’s “spying” was his attempt to understand the character of the man who may have given him life. If Torvald failed Jin’s assessment, that would be it. Jin would never reveal their relationship. Torvald would never learn what happened to his firstborn.

“The Hakeeb are programmed to respond when they sense a danger to the planet. I would be doing a disservice to those be...

Torvald’s answer surprised Kira. She had thought he would ignore Jin as many Tuann did. He didn’t. Even better, his answer was reasonable and one she’d likely make if she was in the same position. Jin too. Kira kept her smile to he...

The bog’s hag was a Tsavitee bioweapon whose primary purpose as near as Kira could figure it was to terraform any planet it landed on. Only instead of creating a paradise, it left behind a wasteland that was toxic to most living creatures. It was considered so invasive that the only solution if a planet was exposed was a complete quarantine. No one in or out.

It was near impossible to fully rid a world of the bog’s hag once it began to spread. Once it sensed a livable atmosphere it would come out of hibernation. Soon after, it would emit a toxic gas capable of rewriting the genetic code of those exposed. The process was slow and agonizing. Death was preferable to the alternative however. Those who survived became little more than zombie-like creatures that possessed a level of aggression that was off the charts. They would hunt and kill any living creature in their vicinity. They felt no pain or fear either, making them difficult to fight off.