 
### The Saoirse Saga

Episode One

### Stars and Ashes

By

### Teagan Kearney

The right of Teagan Kearney to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchases.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © Teagan Kearney

Cover photo: Shutterstock

Dedication

To Tim, as always, for your loving support and help.

Acknowledgment

To every single one of my readers—a great big heartfelt thank you.

In particular, I'd like to mention Lois, Larry, Steve, Linda, Judith, Rebecca, and Brandi. Your support is genuinely appreciated.

Sign up for the author's mailing list to receive a free copy of _Hekate's Chalice_ , Book One in the _Adept Solutions Series_ , and information about new releases, discounts, and advanced reading copies: <https://bit.ly/2zGXGsS>

# 

#

# Saoirse (pronounced sirsh-uh or sear-sha) is the Irish Gaelic word for freedom.

# Table of Contents

Chapter1: Invasion

Chapter 2: Exodus

Chapter 3: Slavery

Chapter 4: The Heir

Chapter 5: Changes

Chapter 6: A Candidate

Chapter 7: Training

Chapter 8: Opportunity

Chapter 9: Flight

Chapter 10: Action and Reaction

Chapter 11: The Finals

Chapter 12: Pyrrhic Victory

Chapter 13: Results

Chapter 14: The Festival of Masks

Chapter 15: Revelations

From The Author

Chapter 1: Invasion

The class of eight and nine-year-old girls and boys, their faces rosy with effort and eyes shiny with pleasure, straightened their thin brown tunics, wiped a hand or two across a sweaty forehead, stood tall, and bowed to the teacher.

Kia returned the bow. They were eager to please, and it took nothing but a kind word of encouragement for them to blossom. "Thank you, disciples," Kia intoned the solemn, formal dismissal, then couldn't hide her smile. "Okay, you're dismissed, off you go. Don't forget your homework." Her eyes twinkled with satisfaction.

The ordered formation broke and became a fluid mass of grinning children surging for the practice hall door.

Little Diago threw her a wave and a wink as he went, making her laugh. The lad showed a lot of promise, and Kia thought he had a bright future if he practiced, which she could tell he didn't always do. A swift glance around the hall—neatly stacked mats, the floor swept—and satisfied everything was as it should be, she tossed her waist-length pale-blonde plait over her shoulder and headed out pleased with the afternoon's class.

The srilao hall was in the older section of Sestris amid the narrow, cobbled twisting streets near the port, and the temple was close by. Late afternoon and the city dozed, dreaming slow dreams in the warm lull between noontime and evening, though the streets were never completely silent.

She had time to stop and make an offering to Cossanta, the golden four-armed patron Goddess of srilao devotees before buying the sweetfruit and berries for the tart her mother wanted to make that evening.

Training for the Southern Continental Championships last month was the hardest thing she'd ever done and winning had been beyond her expectations. The Goddess deserved as many offerings as Kia could manage. Returning to Sestris, standing in the packed town square under the blazing midday sun, and hearing the roaring cheers as the Head Elector—her proud father—placed the golden medallion around her neck, had been dizzying. Yet the class of under ten-year-olds was the most rewarding assignment she'd been given in her training to become a srilao teacher.

Srilao was both a martial art and a dance form, and practitioners were fighters, gymnasts, and dancers who could earn their living performing and teaching in any of the three branches: champions were those who proved they possessed superior skills in all the forms.

She'd put the key in the lock and was studying the round metal symbol on the door, her gaze tracing the three whorls emanating from the center, about to turn the key when the siren screamed, sending every startled seabird in the vicinity flapping into the air. Later she would remember that moment; how the city crouched, waiting, how time elongated, the feel of the cool gray metal in her hand, the grain of the pale ashwood door, the warm breeze stirring the hairs on the back of her neck. _When birds fly, something this way comes. Beware_ , the old saying went. Her other hand clutched the medallion underneath her tunic. She would remember because nothing was ever the same afterward.

At first, the ear-piercing shriek confused her. Then the world stopped. This rhythm of wailing blasts meant one thing—invasion. The thought ignited a chain reaction, and she twisted the key, hearing the lock click, stilling as a fleet of low flying craft skimmed the rooftops, and a wave of heated air buffeted her. A single thought. Home. She needed to get home. Her mother was strong and capable, but the twins would be scared.

The synchronized regulated thud of boots was loud in the thrumming silence after the siren, and she froze at the sight of the menacing line of black uniformed soldiers. They marched, six abreast with weapons raised, along the narrow street toward her, herding a bewildered frightened crowd in front of them.

"Citizens of Sestris, this is the Nadil-Kuradi Empire taking control," an emotionless voice boomed. "Please leave your houses, head for the main gate, and wait outside the city walls. Those disobeying this order will be shot." The soldiers marched closer.

She was too late. Dark visors hid their faces, but she'd no doubt one, or more, had their phaserifles trained on her. Kia thrust the key in her pocket. How polite and typical of the Xaruntian conquerors to say please as they ordered you to surrender or die, she thought, fighting the blind panic threatening to overwhelm her. She recited the pre-fight invocation under her breath, pulling on every bit of training she'd learned since childhood to stay calm. Bit by bit the black wave receded, and she continued putting one foot in front of the other.

The srilao practice hall was near an intersection, and as she passed the shops and houses, doors opened and more people joined the shuffling fearful throng, accompanied by the loud, monotonously repeated command to comply. As they neared the main gate out of the city, the streets were packed. The normal city smells of street flits, food stalls, sea or sand—depending on the wind; the mix of innumerable odors given off by a city full of people was replaced by the acid scent of fear. Everyone had seen the holovid or heard about the Urkat massacre where every house, village, and city on the planet had been obliterated on the orders of the Emperor Teyrn because its inhabitants had defied the might of the empire. The message was clear, and no Sestrian was foolish or brave enough to try that stunt.

Kia shot a look behind her. She saw a second, and then the third row of armed soldiers. She heard doors being smashed as the invaders went house to house, checking for anyone hoping to avoid detection. The soft pff of a weapon firing, followed by the cutting off of a child's sobbing followed her along the street. Had they captured her father? Dear Goddess, please let him have escaped. Kia kept moving, her fists clenched and her jaw aching from gritting her teeth too hard.

She thought of little Diago, worry shivering through her. She had to trust all the children had made it home. Why hadn't they been warned? The entire population had known one day the emperor's spaceships would appear in the pale lavender sky like a plague of dusky aljarads out of the desert. The insects appeared every few years and stripped the city's trees and gardens. However, unlike the insects, these aggressors wouldn't fly out over the ocean and disappear. The vast amount of accessible rich mineral deposits had guaranteed that, even with Emankora's position at the far end of a galaxy arm, the world was too rich a plum not to be plucked. Accordingly, some of those in positions of power, including her father, had made plans for this eventuality, always with the hope they would never be needed.

Kia staggered as the realization hit her. A traitor in their midst must have uncovered the Elector's schemes and sold them out to their enemies. Her father had refused to disclose his plans to her, saying he'd bring her in after she started the Electoral training program the following year. Yet the invader's sudden appearance demonstrated their sleepers must have already been in position. She stumbled and would have fallen, but the woman next to her reached out and steadied her.

"Be strong. This is no more than the beginning." The woman was lean and worn down with hard work, and her lined sun-browned face gave nothing away. "Life will get a lot worse before it gets better." Her harsh expression softened for a moment before she strode ahead.

As the multitude reached the large tree-line square adjacent to the Main gates, they came to a standstill, the sheer mass of people making it impossible to move any farther.

Kia could see the elaborately decorated pink sandstone arch, but the enormous crowd filling the square milled in confusion with mothers clutching children's hands, soothing their cries, huddling beside their husbands, and both old and young afraid of what was coming next. Most of these people had been among those who celebrated her triumph, as her success was their success. These were the citizens who had voted for Madaxa Xefe over the previous twenty years, first as councilor then as Head Elector, but today their gazes slid elsewhere, and they trembled, scared for themselves and their families.

Judging by the number and positioning of the troops, Kia estimated they'd first encircled the town and moved inward, sweeping everyone before them: another sign that no matter what defensive measures the resistance had organized, the empire's agents had eliminated them. Her father and his cohorts had seriously underestimated the enemy's ability to neutralize their strategy. Or they'd overestimated their people's loyalty. If she had to choose, she'd favor the former. The sun had moved low toward the horizon by the time Kia, trapped in the midst of the thirsty hungry crowd, stumbled forward, at last able to see what was causing the blockage.

A three-row-deep line of soldiers, with their weapons trained on those passing before them, stood on both sides of the short road leading to the gates, where two men, who looked more like officers than regular infantry, questioned everyone and tapped answers into their comunits.

_If they're here, they'll target my family,_ her father had said, _and here's what you'll do_.

When her turn came, the black-visored man stared at her. "Name?"

She studied her red leather sandals. "Kia O'Afon." O'Afon was her mother's family name, and afon meant river. Her mother came from the remote south where the land was green and forested, unlike the central desert that stretched out and covered half the southern continent behind Sestris. The mineral rich desert, mined by the Sestrians for centuries, provided a living, trade, and was the reason for the port's existence.

"Age."

"Twenty-three." At least Jared wasn't here. Her older brother had gone north on a trading expedition with Keyon, his best friend. Brown eyed, serious Keyon, who last time they'd talked had told her if she didn't say yes to his offer of partnership soon, he would always love her but would look elsewhere.

The questioner leaned in, snapped his fingers in her face. "I asked you your status?"

She flinched. "Single." Focus, she told herself. This wasn't the time to daydream about what ifs.

"Family?"

"None."

"None?"

"I'm from the south, and I'm here for work."

"Guess that explains your coloring."

Kia took after her mother and with her pale blonde hair and irises so dark the pupil was barely discernible, her looks marked her out. Native Sestrians had darker hair, green or blue eyes, and paler skin. He held a scanner to her eyes and checked his comunit again.

Kia held her breath.

"That way. Go left." He pointed through the gates.

Altering the civic records to give her a new identity had held up under inspection. She breathed out.

Outside the walls, another avenue of black-visored figures waited.

Kia subtly altered her posture, slumping her shoulders and scuffing her feet instead of striding. One-on-one in unarmed combat, she stood a chance. Her average height and slender build were deceptive because she was well-trained with lightning fast reflexes and hadn't yet met an opponent whose body she couldn't read. As she walked, she sensed the hidden eyes assessing her. Tales of the Nadil-Kuradi Empire's cruelty toward its new vassals were endless. Crush and crush again, until there was nothing left but blind obedience to the emperor.

Far too quickly she reached the end of the intimidating gauntlet, and a phaserifle directed her left. On the flat expanse of dun-colored sands beyond the town, she caught a brief glance of the fleet of spacecraft that had brought their vanquishers. Teaching in the hall, she hadn't heard their arrival over the excited cries of the children practicing. Some looked bigger, most likely troop carriers, and nearby were a dozen or more fighter craft. As if Sestris possessed the capability to fight anything military, let alone an interstellar space fleet of any size. She hitched a breath at the thought of the same scenario happening all over Emankora.

Kia joined a large group of young men and women sitting on the ground guarded by yet more soldiers. They were separating people into groups. Where were her mother and sisters? She scanned the area, but it was several minutes before she spotted the women and younger children.

"You."

Kia looked up to find the barrel of a phaserifle about a handspan from her face. She swallowed.

"Look down and don't talk. See him." The soldier pointed his weapon over to the right.

Kia's gaze alighted on the body of a young man who lay unmoving as blood pooled beneath his head.

"He did what you're doing. Looking for his kinfolk. Don't. From here on, you are nobody. You have no family or friends. You belong to the emperor body and soul."

Kia looked down. Body, maybe, soul, never.

The sky darkened, the temperature dropped, Osupa rose in isolated splendor, and still they sat on the cooling earth as the invaders catalogued the townspeople. The youth's lifeless body was eventually dragged away, and while they were all were aware of what was happening, they were powerless.

Kia passed the night in a frozen stupor listening to the faint intermittent wails of children or the barking of a command. If you needed to relieve yourself, a soldier escorted you past the outer line and trained his phaserifle on you as you did your business. Animals, Kia thought, raising a hand when her bladder was about to burst. Animals. That's all we are to them.

Rumor had it the empire used neural implants to boost the speed of their reactions, physical strength, and endurance. The soldiers' behavior, impervious and vigilant throughout the night, appeared to confirm the story.

As the predawn sky turned gray, then pink, she heard hammering in the distance. Sweet Goddess, what was happening?

With shouts of 'Stand,' and swift use of phaserifle butts to ensure compliance, the guards harried the cold, stiff prisoners to their feet. They soon found out what the noises meant. A raised platform had been thrown up, high enough that even those at the rear could witness whatever was about to take place.

Kia's heart drummed faster, and she glanced at those standing near her, meeting the frustrated gaze of a tall young man. She blinked in acknowledgement, and he returned the signal, but any further communication stopped as a sleek dark airship flew low over the gathering.

"The Emperor Teyrn's Heir," one soldier hissed, "Lord Rialoir himself!" The guards nearby stood straighter as their eyes tracked the small fighter, but movement on the makeshift stage drew their attention away from the new arrival.

Kia watched, blinking hard, not wanting to believe what she was seeing as four men and four women were marched onto the platform.

A groan of collective sorrow rose from the townsfolk.

Kia's heart stopped. Her legs trembled, and she locked her knees as she recognized the figure in the center. Her father. She couldn't look away. He would want her to witness. To witness and remember.

"These people are all traitors. Their families have been executed."

Kia gasped, the breath leaving her lungs in a rush as sobbing broke out in several places. She'd have fallen if a hand hadn't gripped her upper arm, holding her upright. All she could see was her mother's face: one minute chiding, cross with her rebellious daughter, the next, smiling and proud of that same daughter's achievements—and always loving. But Lilia and Alsling, her curly-headed lively young sisters, always up to mischief, and the sweetheart twins of her parents' later years, would have been with her mother. This wasn't possible; it couldn't be happening. They should have had enough warning to flee before the invaders arrived. What had gone wrong? No, no, no, her mind reiterated, refusing to accept reality.

"Hey!" A soldier thrust the butt of his weapon into the young man's chest, shoving him away from her. He staggered backward and quickly raised his arms high in the air.

The guard turned toward her, and her muscles shivered with the effort of controlling herself.

"These men will be executed." The speaker announced.

Kia's attention jerked back to the dais. Her father was too distant to be sure, but she would swear his gaze roved the silent tense citizens, and rested on her, before passing over his people.

A soldier walked out and stood at the edge of the platform facing the city's Elected with his back to the captive Sestrians. He raised his phaserifle and eight soft pffs sighed through the air.

Kia burned the image of her father slumping to the platform with a small circular mark in the middle of his forehead into her mind, and her heart broke at the knowledge that his bright intelligence and the warmhearted gaze he turned on the world and its antics were gone forever.

# Chapter 2: Exodus

Kia sat on the hard metal floor of a transport carrier heading for Shihon, the capital of Emankora on the Northern Continent, along with the young men and women of Sestris. She shivered from the cold night air—the plane was unheated—and the vibrations from the engine made her bones ache. She clasped her arms around her knees. Her wrists and ankles were bound with monocuffs, the latter fixed to metal bars running along the floor. After the guards shot three of them for talking, everyone sat mute, and Kia kept her head down as instructed.

She didn't mean to sleep but had closed her eyes to shut out the misery she could see on everyone's face. The next instant she was standing alone on the beach south of the city where her family had gone for picnics on the days when her father had no council business. The setting sun created a shimmering silver path to the horizon, and she could see a boat heading out to sea.

"Don't leave me here," she cried because her father was waving to her from the boat. Next to him, her mother also waved, and the twins blew her kisses.

The boat was moving fast, but she could hear their voices as if they were standing next to her. "We live in your heart," her mother's voice drifted over the water.

"Remember everything we taught you." Her father smiled. "You are stronger than you know."

She lurched sideways, knocking into the woman next to her, and woke up still half in her dream. The guards hadn't noticed, and Kia nodded a silent apology. She didn't cry—not because she didn't want to, or had no tears, but because she wouldn't give a single one of the empire's soldiers the satisfaction seeing her breakdown. She had an ocean of tears, enough to flood the crimson deserts of the southern continent, but refused to let the tears fall. Instead, she gritted her teeth, clamped her jaw tight, clasped and unclasped her hands, once in a while letting her fingers skim the medallion underneath her tunic. When told to remove her jewelry, she'd handed over the practice hall key and pointed to her ears and wrists, showing she had none. Jewelry could be used against you in a fight with an opponent ripping an earring off, or grabbing a bracelet to immobilize an arm. She'd keep hold of her medal as long as possible. If they took it off her at a later date, in another place, the link to her family and city would be less easy to trace.

The more the events of the preceding day sank in, the more she felt she was on the edge of a precipice and it would be easy to let go and fall. All she would have to do would be to shout or scream, and one or other of the guards would shoot her. But she knew in her heart that such a decision would disappoint her parents more than any other she would ever make. _You are stronger than you know_ , her father's voice echoed in her head.

What had gone wrong with her father's plans? The empire's interstellar fleet had disabled the planet's defenses, knocked out the communications and transport systems, and materialized in the skies over Emankora without any warning. There must have been an enormous number of hidden sleepers within their midst for them to succeed in the way they had. Making an example of Sestris, her beloved home town and the main trading center for the conglomeration of independent miners, would ensure the southern continent's compliance.

Kia had heard of the empire's methods—who hadn't? She suspected her father had advised his fellow electors to surrender, hoping to save lives. It wasn't a hard decision as the superior numbers and weapons of the empire's forces would have outnumbered the city's small defensive capabilities. Face it, she told herself, if you're serious about conquering a planet, you bring what you need to accomplish the mission, and the empire wasn't known for its lighthearted approach to its expansion program.

The best hope for the people left behind was for them to stay alive while the resistance reformed. She clung to that thought. The empire might have snuck its agents into their system, but her people had known, long before Kia was born, that this day was bound to come, and although their first line of defense had collapsed, she was sure they must have made contingency plans.

The prisoners still hadn't eaten or drunk and, as a result, nobody had anything to vomit when the transport began its descent, although the smell of unwashed bodies was getting hard to ignore. After the carrier juddered to a halt, the guards moved among the prisoners removing the restraints from their feet but leaving their wrists cuffed. Their jailers herded them—some sniveling, most staring with empty or stunned gazes, but all debilitated by trauma—down a wide ramp and out onto the spaceport landing grounds.

The noise and activity of the spaceport assaulted Kia's senses as she moved forward. The roar of a shuttle taking off, prisoners, some milling about, others marched over to large temporary tents, orders shouted, the occasional pff of weapon's fire, and dominating everything was the sense of unreality, of a nightmare, except there would be no waking up.

Shihon's spaceport was a short distance from the capital, but it looked very different from the previous time she visited. The entire family had made the trip to witness Jared's official admission into the Trades and Alliances Collective. Kia swallowed the rising tide of emotion as she remembered the pride on her parents' faces, followed fast by the image of her father being shot. She shuffled forward, letting her gaze rove, observed how their conqueror's fleet flowed far beyond the normal berths allocated for commercial craft—and noted the total absence of the latter.

"Single line," a guard yelled, making vicious use of the butt of his phaserifle when they didn't move fast enough. Others repeated the command until they were satisfied with some semblance of order, then ordered them toward one of a dozen smallish gray tents where lines of Emankora's young men and women waited to enter.

Shots were fired, and Kia heard screaming and yells from several directions as they trudged along, heads down, and looking neither to the left or right.

"We'll shoot anyone who tries to run," the nearest guard bellowed.

Their line shambled forward without stopping. Not a day had gone by, and they'd already learned to do what they were told, and do it quickly.

Kia wondered if they'd be given the choice. Sometimes the subjugated populations of annexed planets were asked if they wanted to join the empire's troops. This entailed a certain number of cybernetic alterations, but once you had served your allocated time, you were granted your freedom. The price was high, though, because the modifications changed you into a creature with limited free will. The alternative was to retain your individuality and work as a slave until you died from exhaustion, starvation or any of the frequent disasters in the many asteroid mines. However, sometimes no option was given and whole planets were enlisted in whatever the empire's current needs dictated.

When Kia entered the dim interior of the tent, she kept her gaze down, waiting her turn. She raised her head a fraction and saw ahead of her a visored soldier seated at a table with a comunit, and a couple more soldiers, their weapons raised, watching the prisoners. Standing behind him and looking over his shoulder, was a fourth man dressed in a dark green uniform. The conspicuous absence of any insignia on his clothing wasn't the only difference this soldier displayed—he wore no helmet.

Kia was surprised at how normal he seemed with his close-shaved light brown hair and keen pale blue eyes. It was hard to believe he was someone's son, father, or husband when they were all monsters. Occasionally he interrupted the seated soldier and asked a question.

When her turn came, Kia stepped forward.

"Name?"

She blew out a quiet breath, more assured this time her identity was safe. "Kia O'Afon."

The man in the green uniform leaned across the seated questioner, picked up the comunit, studied it briefly before walking around the table and stopping far too close. He was a good bit taller than her, and despite the tired lines around his eyes, his gaze was sharp as he assessed her. "Says here you were in Sestris looking for work. What work do you do?"

"Cleaning and such. Whatever I can get." Kia addressed him with respect. She didn't need to antagonize this man as although he had no insignia and his uniform was plain, whoever he was, he clearly outranked the other soldiers.

"Show me your hands."

"What?"

"If I have to repeat myself, one of those two," he gestured to the soldiers behind the table, "will have to shoot you..."

Her heart rate shot up, and she had no doubt he meant what he said despite his casual tone. She twisted her hands inside the cuffs and showed him her palms.

He gripped her wrists, turned her hands this way and that, scrutinizing her fingernails before running his thumb over her calloused palms. "These hands don't belong to anyone who cleans for a living. It looks as if those callouses," his finger stroked the callus between her thumb and index finger, "are from regular use of a weapon."

"My father, before he died, may the Gods care for his soul, taught me to use a blade." She let herself well up, which was easy to do and glanced up at him making sure he'd notice her tears. "He wanted me to be able to protect myself."

A scuffle and screams had Kia turning toward the entrance. A young fellow had run, and she watched a soldier raise his phaserifle and fire. Her eyes widened as she recognized him in the shocked silence. He was older than her and she didn't recall his name, but he'd gone to school with Jared, and she'd seen him in her neighborhood. Whatever future his parents had hoped for him, a wife, grandchildren, was snuffed out. Her lips tightened.

"What's this?" Her questioner wrenched her back to the present as he released his grip on her wrists, and moving quickly, reached inside the neck of her tunic, grabbed the chain of her medallion, disentangled her plait, and lifted it over her head with surprising speed.

A cold hand squeezed her heart, and she stared at the ground. She had won that medallion through hard work and dedication, and she didn't want him to see her fear or anger.

"What have we here?" He studied the motif, turning the medallion over. "A srilao champion, no less. I can see why you didn't surrender this when you were asked to hand over your valuables." He scrutinized her. "You're on the skinny side, but I bet you're fast, otherwise you wouldn't have this." He nodded at the medallion in his hand.

"I'll put her choice down as the military, then? Mercenaries do real well in our system," the guard at the table ignored her and addressed her interrogator.

"I'm not a mercenary and I'm not for hire," she told them both.

The man in front of her studied her. "My boss might have a use for you."

She didn't care who his boss was and realized she'd nearly missed the significance of the other soldier's statement. "He said choice. What choice?"

"Lucky for you, the Heir has insisted the people of Emankora get to choose, despite the need for miners. If it was up to me, you're a prime candidate for the military, but the other option available is an all-expenses paid vacation to the mines."

"I'll choose the mines."

"Don't be too eager. Slip of a girl like you could survive for a year or two. If you change your mind, send a message to Nagavi—that's me—and I'll pull you out of whatever hell you end up in."

"Don't hold your breath." The words jumped out of her mouth before she could stop them, but her questioner chuckled. "Sense of humor. Good, you'll need it where you're headed. Mark my words, I'll be seeing you before the year is out, in fact, I'd bet on it. I look forward to training you. Until then, I'll take care of this." He pocketed her medallion, sighed as if she was a fool not to throw her lot in with the victors, made a note on his comunit, and pointed to one of two exits at the rear. "Through there."

Kia felt his gaze on her back and she tried not to walk too fast. If he knew who her father was, he'd order her death rather than extend an invitation, champion or not. The icy hand remained clamped around her heart even after she exited the tent.

The subsequent hours blurred into one prolonged humiliation. Surrounded by jittery soldiers with fingers twitching on their phaserifles, Kia joined those captured from cities all over the planet as they were herded into large warehouses. Previously used for importing and exporting goods, they'd been transformed into clearing houses for the detainees. She estimated there were over a thousand in this shed alone, and there were at least half a dozen sheds. The empire was divesting Emankora of its future, and they would either be absorbed into the empire's structure or be worked to death, thus removing any threat.

They were ordered to strip, directed into communal showers, handed a tube of cream, and told to smear it on their scalps.

Kia stood with the naked women who'd clustered together, although even the lustiest male among them had no thoughts of pleasure, as freezing chemshowers blasted their goose-bumped skin. She numbly watched as the depilation cream did its job, and her waist-length white blonde hair was sucked down a drain, disappearing along with everyone else's hair.

"They want to remove every trace of who we are," a woman said. "The trouble with hair, though, is it doesn't stop growing."

The woman was right, but Kia added this degradation to her list of insults and hardening desire for revenge.

After being issued with thick black coveralls and a pair of rough rope sandals, they were allowed five minutes to chew a tough tasteless condensed wafer and drink a plasbulb of water before soldiers funneled them in groups aboard the waiting shuttles.

Strapped into the shuttle's metal seat, Kia glanced around and didn't recognize a single face. During the processing, she had somehow become separated from her group from Sestris, and a sliver of panic twisted her gut. At least if she was with people from Sestris, she stood a chance of finding others who had knowledge of the resistance. A tall young man sat down a few rows in front, and she unwound a bit as she recognized him as the same person who'd stood by her side during her father's execution. He could be an ally, and she determined she'd try to stay close to him.

The shuttle rattled, and her ears rang as it blasted off. After docking beside a larger ship, the soldiers channeled their charges along gray metal corridors and down into the belly of the spaceship. Kia dropped back until no more than a few people separated her from the young man.

"First four in here," the soldier ordered, waving his weapon at the open door. He pressed a button outside the cell and the door slid shut. "Next four," he said, and the procedure was repeated as they moved along the corridor.

Kia was near the end of the line, and she did a quick check. Waiting until the guard's attention was elsewhere, she took a chance and turned to the woman behind her. "Could I swap places with you?" Kia whispered. "Please, I want to be with my friend." She nodded at the tall youth.

"Sure," the woman replied. "A little comfort goes far in times like this."

Kia smiled her thanks as they slid past each other.

"Hi, I'm Shanyi. How are you doing?" The young man muttered in her ear as they shuffled forward.

"Still breathing. You?" she murmured. "I wasn't sure you'd seen me."

"The southern continent's reigning srilao champion is hard to miss," he said softly, "even without that recognizable hair."

"Don't say that," she hissed. "If they—"

"Don't worry. Nobody from Sestris will say anything."

Kia's estimate was correct, and when their turn came she and Shanyi were the first two into the next empty cell. The small narrow room contained four bunks, two on either side, with scarcely enough room to turn sideways. Another couple were shoved in after them; one was a bigger, older man and the other, a lad not yet out of school.

The instant the door shut, a basic srilao tenet sprang to mind. _Take the initiative if you can,_ followed by _an upper position is often, but not always, more advantageous._ In this case, she figured it most definitely was. "We'll take the top," she said, clambering up the nearest ladder, nodding at the other top bunk as she met Shanyi's gaze.

Resentment flitted across the older man's face, but he said nothing and sat on the lower bunk underneath Kia.

"On your bunks," an impersonal voice commanded over the ship's tannoy. "You are under surveillance at all times and refusal to comply will result in severe disciplinary action."

Shanyi and the younger lad were lying down before the instruction ended.

"Lie flat on your backs with your legs straight and your arms by your side."

Kia and Shanyi lay as instructed and gazed at each other across the tiny space, their puzzlement clearing as a rigid restraint emerged from the wall, arched over their chests, adjusted to their size, and locked with a solid clunk into a slot on the edge of the bunks. Another restraint across their calves followed.

"What's happening?" The lad below Shanyi asked, a tremor in his voice.

"Once we've passed through the wormhole, your restraints will be removed, but you are locked in here until we arrive at our destination," the tannoy announced.

Wormhole? Kia stared at the gray metal ceiling as the reality of the preceding days bored into her mind. She closed her eyes, and the chasm beckoned. Everything she'd known, her family, her friends, her pupils, her city, her life, was gone. Instead, she was leaving her planet and heading for a future that was grim and desperate—if she was lucky.

"None of us are alone," Shanyi murmured.

"Nor shall we ever be," a faltering voice from below him responded.

"Nor shall we ever be," Kia repeated, choking back the sob in her throat. "Let us give names. I'm Kia from Sestris."

"I'm Shanyi from Sestris."

"Chetey from Mapiri. It's a small town in the far north." The young man's voice quavered.

The man below Kia grunted. "Not that Emankoran culture ever helped me or mine, but I'm Oloran, a member of the Videshi tribe."

The Videshi were traders who wandered both continents without a permanent base and were looked down upon by many Emankorans.

"One of my father's best friends is... was a Videshi called Vudchay." As soon as she spoke of her father, she realized her mistake.

"Ah, the famous visionary Vudchay. Videshi or not, who hasn't heard of him? Who was your father?"

"It doesn't matter anymore who he was," Kia answered, "he has departed this life."

A tremor quivered through the ship as the engines hummed into life.

_Goodbye, Emankora. I will see you again. I promise._ Such a vow might be a futile gesture, but even such a small silent statement declared her defiance. She would not break; she would die rather than give herself over to them, and she would have her revenge.

# Chapter 3: Slavery

The background hum of the engines ceased.

"We are entering the wormhole shortly, but be at ease, dear guests of the Nadil-Kuradi Empire, you will remember nothing."

Kia shot a startled look at Shanyi. "That doesn't sound good." She'd flown on the shuttle between Sestris and Shihon, but she'd expected to spend her life on her home world. Her ambitions weren't stellar, and her knowledge of space travel didn't extend beyond watching the latest holovid blockbuster.

"What's that noise?" Chetey squeaked.

They listened to a gentle hissing.

"It's coming from the air vents." Kia looked over at Shanyi, dismayed to see his eyes closed. She tried to call him but found her eyelids drooping, too heavy to stay open. They've gassed us, flashed through her mind as she fell into darkness.

Whatever chemical their captors had used to put them to sleep also affected her memory leaving her with little recall of events after they transited the wormhole. She never saw Shanyi or young Chetey again and retained a fuzzy image of prisoners being marched here and there on a gigantic space station before she passed out again on another bunk on another transport carrier. She didn't come back to herself with some understanding of her situation until the tannoy announced the ship's imminent arrival at their destination, Jahanamu.

Dehydrated, half-starved—she didn't remember when she'd last eaten—and weak-kneed, she stumbled behind the prisoner in front her as they exited the shuttle into a world of unwelcoming grayness. Gray walls, gray floors, even the soldiers' visorless faces carried a gray tint. She was too drained to take notice of much else: the maglev train down into the asteroid's living quarters; sitting at a table cramming soup and bread into her mouth, a voice telling her to slow down or else she'd throw it all up again—advice she ignored; entering a dormitory and being pushed down onto a bed where she passed out again.

The shriek of a siren jerked her awake, and she sat up, banging her head on the metal struts of the bunk above her. Jahanamu. She remembered a voice saying, "Welcome to Hell, your new home, otherwise known as Jahanamu."

"Showers through here, but get a move on, 'cause they turn them off after ten minutes." An older woman, small, lean and muscled, her head covered in gray stubble, bent down and looked her over.

Kia knuckled her eyes, trying to clear the fog from her brain.

"You'll be hung over for a while yet. That wormhole sedative takes a day or two to clear out of your system. C'mon, a shower, and clean clothes will make you feel more human. I'm Rehanya, and I'll show you the ropes today." She stuck out a hand.

Kia did the same, wincing as Rehanya squeezed her hand hard. On Emankora people greeted each other with folded hands and a bow, but from here on, she would have to get used to different customs. "I'm Kia."

As she walked ahead, Rehanya explained that the segregated bunk rooms and bathrooms were in this sector and pointed out a few rooms couples used if they wanted privacy. She showed Kia where to collect a fresh overall each morning, giving her one from a pile of chem-cleaned ones that stank of cleaning fluid and were ingrained with stains.

Such considerate enslavers, Kia thought but kept her opinions to herself.

"Don't use the bathrooms at night either. I'll get you a piss-pot later." Rehanya nodded at the lidded metal pot in her hand. "Rape isn't that common, at least not as much as it used to be when they had mixed dorms, but with twice as many men as women, you don't want to put yourself in unnecessary danger."

Kia wasn't shocked. She had enough life experience to have learned that life wasn't all honey and sweetness, but until the Emperor Teyrn turned his attention on her planet, she'd experienced no real hardship. She was sure making up for that gap in her education.

Rehanya was right. A two-minute tepid shower, clean overalls, and boots, even if they were too big, instead of sandals was an improvement. Breakfast, unleavened bread dipped in hot spicy slop, in a large noisy refectory crammed full of men and women eating with the voraciousness of the damned having their final meal, made her feel human again. For the first time since the invading soldiers had appeared in Sestris, there wasn't one in sight. She assumed they kept the miners too starved to do anything other than eat, and where would they escape to, even if they overthrew their guards? She'd no doubt the soldiers and their guns might not be visible, but they'd appear like kazurkas in a swamp at the faintest whiff of trouble.

"Eat quick," Rehanya leaned close, "because when the next—"

Kia missed the end of the sentence as a second ear-splitting shriek had everyone on their feet, grabbing pieces of bread and sticking it in their overall pockets as they headed for the exit. Copying suit, she snatched a chunk and stuffed it in her pocket as she followed Rehanya out of the eating hall. She had a lot of questions, but the empire had no interest in giving introductory courses to new members arriving at their forced labor camps. If she aimed to survive she'd have to learn as she went along. She pursed her lips and straightened her back. It wasn't as if she had much else to do.

She stuck close to Rehanya for the short standing journey on a maglev train crammed with miners, then squeezed into an elevator that dropped them to a deeper level before disgorging them into a sizeable cavern hollowed out of the rock and illuminated by the harsh ever-present glare of artificial lighting.

"This is our section's order point, and this guy tells us where to go. Got a fresh recruit with me today, boss, where'd you want her?"

The boss, a thin-lipped, hatchet-faced, wiry man studying his comunit, pointed over his shoulder without bothering to look up.

"Thanks, boss."

Armed guards at the entrances to the various tunnels that dotted the cave's sides checked off names and issued primitive pickaxes.

Rehanya stated their names for the guard, and Kia emulated the other woman, hefting the heavy tool over her shoulder, though without the same ease of movement. Kia Xefe, daughter of Head Elector, Madaxa Xefe, and winner of the most recent srilao competition in the southern continent of Emankora, was dead. However, Kia O'Afon was very much alive.

Halfway through that initial backbreaking day, Rehanya snorted when Kia asked her wouldn't it be more efficient to use machines for mining instead of humans.

"We're cheaper, and they squeeze as much as they can out of us while they kill us. We're expendable, and we're also a warning. And, as I'm sure you've experienced, they shoot you if we blink the wrong way."

Kia struggled to lift her spoon and slurp her soup that night. All she planned to do was sleep and forget the burning ache in her arms, shoulders, and back.

The days soon fell into a bleak routine. Wake, eat, work, eat, sleep. Every dismal day was the same. She lost her sense of time as she became accustomed to working underground. The artificial glare of the lights, the ever-present dust in the air and grit in her mouth, the rise and fall of the pickax defined her existence.

Each night she would call up the dream image of her parents and the twins waving goodbye as a boat swept them away on a shining ocean. Yet, at times, she was too weary to think clearly, the images were fuzzy, and sleep would drag her under before she could say goodnight to her family.

She attempted to keep track of the days, but after a while, she couldn't see the point. The days and nights merged into a dreary reality, a bleak, lonely landscape without any identifying features, and she drew on her hatred of the empire, her unresolved grief for her family, and consolidated it into a fierce, bitter reason to stay alive. One thought remained a constant companion—where was the resistance?

Her father had given both her and Jared strict instructions to choose the mines where others involved in the conspiracy against the emperor would head if given a choice. She'd learned of her father's involvement in plans to undermine the empire when she was a teenager. He'd been in communication with a highly placed official within the empire's hierarchy, but she had no idea who that could be, or if that person was able to help her escape her current predicament.

They were supposed to work in silence, but most guards allowed quiet conversations, although any outbursts of violence ended in a quick shot to the head.

Kia kept her eyes and ears tuned for a word or a sign that would alert her to anything subversive happening but heard nothing. Her muscles hardened as she adjusted to the labor. She lost weight, and no matter how much she crammed into her mouth morning and evening or how much bread she stuffed into her pockets to sustain her during the day, the gnaw of hunger's hurtful teeth became a constant companion.

She saw little of Rehanya during work hours, but in the evening, those who had the energy, or the inclination gathered around the older woman's bed. They talked of their homes, their loved ones, they moaned and grieved and comforted each other. There were also many too hurt or embittered or depressed to build relationships, and who withdrew into themselves. One woman lay on her bed rocking to herself and singing a lullaby. The others looked after her, but nobody had broken through the barrier she'd sealed herself behind.

Kia often sat on the edge of the circle letting their kindness wash over her, but not allowing it to dissolve the walls she'd erected. When asked about her story, she'd shake her head. She couldn't get too close to anyone, not until she could figure out who was safe and who wasn't, and at this point she didn't trust anybody enough to confide in them. Her world had narrowed to the dormitory, the refectory, and whatever tunnel she was working in. She shut down and locked away parts of herself because existence was easier if she didn't think or feel too much. The one thing that mattered was staying alive and getting revenge. Neither would be easy, especially the latter.

As she hefted her pick one morning, working on a different tunnel with a new crew, she noticed a familiar face in the group—Oloran. She remembered him as a big man, but he'd thinned, hardened, and his hair had turned gray. His expression was more dour than she recalled, and she felt the same antipathy toward him as before, despite their common circumstances.

At first, he showed no signs of recognition, but it wasn't long before she found him working beside her. It didn't matter how often she was last in the queue and chose a spot as far away from him as possible, or tried to move to a different part of their work area, each day he always ended up nearby. He never acknowledged her, but she realized he'd zeroed in on her. She said nothing, hoping the teams would change soon, and his oppressive presence would be gone. Their bosses constantly changed them around to prevent plots being hatched.

A few nights later, Kia lay on her bed, heavy fatigue towing her toward sleep, when Rehanya came over and sat down.

"You met this Oloran from before?"

A small alarm tripped in her mind. "We were on the same transport carrier from Sestris, but I never met him before then. Why?"

"He's been asking if you have a protector."

A protector was the term used for a man when a couple decided they wanted to be together and sent a message to others that the woman was taken. It wasn't unknown for a woman to be forced to accept protection, and there were many methods for a man with a dominant nature to create difficulties for a woman who refused him.

"I sent a message you were under my protection."

"What does that mean?" Some women had partnered with each other, as Kia knew women did on Sestris, but it wasn't her inclination.

Rehanya laughed at Kia's uneasy expression. "All it means is that although you don't have the protection of a particular man, the women in this dorm will defend you."

"Thank you." If Kia needed friends, Rehanya would be a good start.

"You'll see, sticking together is how we make it through." She patted Kia's arm. "Sleep."

Kia drifted off, uneasy thoughts swirling as exhaustion claimed her.

She thought no more of the conversation with Rehanya, and in the following days Oloran kept his distance, yet she caught him looking at her more than once. The mixture of hostility and lust he radiated reminded her that 'us and them' wasn't limited to the miners and their guards, but even among the prisoners she had to tread with caution.

She woke one night needing to pee. She groped under the bunk for her container, peering underneath where the dim orange nightlight revealed nothing and grimaced as she realized she must have left it in the bathroom that morning. Borrowing was a no-no; the one occasion somebody did that, Rehanya hadn't stepped in to stop the fight.

She listened to the slow breathing in and out of the utterly exhausted as she tiptoed past the sleeping shadowy shapes. Pressing her hand against the palm lock, the door slid open, closing with a hiss behind her. Nobody. Don't be silly, she admonished herself. Did she think men, or specifically Oloran, lurked all night in the passage on the off chance that some unfortunate woman had forgotten her piss-pot?

Pausing before leaving the bathroom, she concentrated. The thought of tons of rock pressing down, ready to implode, still left her unsettled. In theory, she recognized her fear was baseless. Jahanamu's metals were too essential for running the empire's wormhole ships for them to have made anything other than a secure investment. Losing slaves meant less than nothing—they were dead men working—but had spared no effort to maintain access to the asteroid's core.

She slipped out, and a hard hand grabbed her arm. Before she could shake the hand off, a fist crashed into the side of her face, and she cried out as stars whirled and spun in front of her eyes. Dazed, her ears ringing with the blow, she shook her head to clear it.

"What fair game have we here?" Oloran leered. He leaned against the wall, but his grip was vicious.

"Let me go," she gasped, her heart drumming.

"Or else you'll what?" His breath was sour, and his eyes glazed as he pulled her closer. "Oh, not such a tough little girl now, are you?"

She could see his age-yellowed teeth, broken dentine monuments, in an animal grin, the rigid tendons standing out on his neck. She brought her free hand across in a chopping strike to his carotid.

Easily blocking her, he laughed and punched her again, harder, in the jaw.

Her head whipped sideways, and she slammed into the wall before blacking out. She came to face down on a bed with Oloran lying on top of her, his sour breath loud in her ears, his arm pushing down on the back of her neck, and her face pressed sideways into a musty-smelling rough blanket. His weight held her in place as he groped and pulled her tunic up with his other hand. She shifted, twisting her hips, attempting to buck him off, but he stopped his fumbling, pulled his arm back and punched her in the kidneys. Intense sharp pains shot through her insides immobilizing her and stopping her breath.

"Lie still," he growled, "before I really hurt you."

He yanked her tunic up, shoving her legs wide apart with his knees, his legs on hers to prevent her from kicking him.

Fear flushed through her. Her heart pounded, and her breath tore in and out of her lungs as she felt him fiddling with the belt of his pants. She needed to move, to keep trying to stop him, but the pain in her back was excruciating.

As if he could hear her thoughts he pushed her head further down into the bed.

"Relax, my pretty princess." He shifted to position himself and his breath came faster. "It won't be long before you'll truly be under my protection," he snorted at his joke.

Kia heard a cracking noise and a grunt and sank lower into the mattress as Oloran's full weight bore down on her.

"C'mon girl, move before this shithead wakes up."

Kia wriggled as fast as she could from under Oloran as Rehanya shoved. She staggered to her feet, shivering at her narrow escape, and struggling to stand as acute pains shot up and down her back.

The older woman took hold of Kia's chin and examined her face. "You'll have a few nasty bruises tomorrow, but you'll live. Forgot your pot, did you?"

Kia nodded.

"Happens more than you'd think. But most get back without meeting bastards like him. Did he rape you?" Rehanya's gaze was razor-sharp as she looked Kia up and down.

A sickening feeling sat heavy in her gut and her legs shook as she looked at the metal bar in the older woman's hand. "N... no."

"Help me roll him over." Rehanya dropped her weapon.

Rehanya did most of the work as the pain in Kia's back made moving painful, but soon Oloran lay unconscious and flat on his back.

"My arm's stronger than yours, therefore I'll do the honor." She moved down the bed, picked up the metal bar and brought it down with a solid thwack across the top of his thighs and his flaccid member.

Kia winced.

"Better this way. If the other men or the guards find out what he tried to do—even if he didn't succeed, they'd emasculate him."

"What's that?"

"They cut the whole thing off."

# Chapter 4: The Heir

The morning siren blasted Kia out of sleep. She struggled to her feet with her head throbbing and her back aching. The sympathetic looks she got from the other women in the shower room told her Rehanya had spread the word, and the pinkish red, rapidly turning purple, swellings on her face confirmed the story.

The refectory was buzzing with rumors of a special visitor to Jahanamu. Kia thought if any underground resistance existed here, this would be a prime opportunity to strike back at the empire.

"'Fraid I can't get you any sick dispensation today," Rehanya said with regret. "Everyone, without exception, has to be in the mines today. I'll speak to the boss and make sure you get transferred out of your team as soon as possible. That bastard will hold a grudge. Next time, we'll kill him."

Kia sighed. Her jaw hurt too much to chew, but she forced herself to sip a little of the soup. With luck, this visitor would get them time off work. Swinging that pick today would be painful. She gave a rueful smile. "At least I'm not the only one hurting."

"To your assembly points immediately and wait for instructions," the tannoy boomed.

The room rose en masse. If this visitor was as important as gossip indicated, the guards would come down hard on the minutest infraction as it would reflect on them—and they were never hesitant to administer retribution.

Kia caught sight of Oloran, his shoulders hunched, in the crowded passageway to the magtrain.

He turned, his face drawn and gray with pain and a murderous scowl on his face as he searched the crowd.

She ducked down, annoyed with herself for her reaction. I'm avoiding confrontation, that's all, she told herself—but Oloran had scared her in a way she'd never experienced. Compared to his brutal attack, her srilao training and the organized bouts in arenas seemed like playacting. She had participated in a sport. Oh, without doubt, the training was useful when you were fighting by the rules for a trophy, but none of her fights had been for the stakes in play last night, and Oloran hadn't followed any rules. How long was it since she'd done any training? How long since those soldiers had marched along the street in Sestris, and her father die by order of the empire? She saw again the determined set of her father's face replaced with surprise as he fell to the ground.

"Move." Someone pushed her forward.

She clenched her jaw to stop a cry of agony. Another day, she'd have turned and snarled, because you had to give as good as you got. Well, Oloran had gotten his just desserts all right.

Kia trailed behind the stragglers to their order point and noted the guards, their phaserifles raised, lining the walls of the cavern. In front of them, three rows deep, stood the miners, with more guards spaced at intervals facing the workforce. She tried to slip into the back row but the boss spotted her. "Over here, Kia." He pointed to a gap in the front row and didn't seem to notice her bruised face, or else it made no difference to him. She walked with her head down, looking neither to left or right, to where the boss pointed.

"I am going to kill you."

Kia startled at the hate-filled hiss coming from behind her.

"But first I'll finish what I started—"

"Quiet!" roared the nearest guard, aiming his weapon over Kia's shoulder.

Please, please, keep talking, Kia prayed, but Oloran didn't say another word. Nonetheless, his malice scorched the back of her neck.

She heard nothing more from Oloran as the miners stood in absolute silence hardly daring to breathe or move for what seemed half the work day. Everyone had heard of the massacre of miners on the Ukendt asteroid, where the soldiers had killed over five hundred miners for an attempted uprising, and no one wanted to give a bunch of trigger-twitchy guards any reason for an unscheduled target practice session.

Other than a slight wobble when she thought she might topple forward and end up flat on her face, Kia focused on her breathing and remained calm until the murmur of voices coming from the main corridor grew louder.

A shiver ran through the crowd as booted footsteps echoed in the distance.

"Stand to attention for the Emperor Teyrn's Heir!" announced a voice.

A few gasped, but most shrank even more into themselves.

The Heir. The memory of sitting in the early morning cold outside Sestris's walls as a sleek dark airship flew over surfaced. This man commanded the empire's forces planning and executing its unstoppable expansion. Reports claimed this man oversaw every detail of each conquest. He would have been the one who decided her father should die. Yes, make an example of that city by killing their Electorate and enslaving their young men and women. A few words and the lives of everyone she loved had changed. Added to which, every atrocity she'd heard of committed by the empire in its apparent unstoppable conquest was attributed to this man.

The thud of marching boots grew louder, and the cowed miners shriveled further, as if by will alone they might become invisible, when the Heir entered the cavern,

Kia raised her head the barest fraction, compelled to glimpse the person who had ordered her father's death. Peeking upward through her eyelashes, she caught her breath as she recognized one man, and all thoughts of the Heir fled. Her heart did a strange clippety-clop somersault, and she stifled the gasp about to leap from her throat.

The man who'd taken her medallion stood not twenty paces away. His words rang in her head, _my boss might have a use for you_. Was his boss the heir to the Nadil-Kuradi Empire? Her heart stopped then drubbed an erratic quadruple-time rhythm. She was sure anybody looking at her would see the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Calm down, she told herself, everybody here is terrified. You're no different.

She risked raising her head further to check. Yes, the man she remembered was talking to the Heir—though apart from the gold insignia adorning the Heir's chest, he wore the same plain green uniform as the other four special guards accompanying him, except neither he nor the man who'd stolen her medal wore visored helmets like his guards. Still, the dominant way his glance rested on the man talking to him revealed someone used to being obeyed.

She figured the visored soldiers must be part of the Chenjerai, the Heir's elite guards, soldiers who had dedicated their lives to his service, giving up their families, and every other loyalty for him. There were many tales of their cruelty, too.

Kia's eyes slid past the Heir as her gaze returned to the other man. She'd forgotten his name, but the same tired lines decorated his face, and his eyes were as sharp as when he'd examined her in Sestris. With the weight she'd lost during the months of hard labor and insufficient food in the depths of Jahanamu's mines and without her distinctive hair, she doubted he'd recognize her. Kia lowered her head as he bowed to the Heir and turned away, marching out of the cavern. Besides, these days she was nothing but a slave and property of the empire. She would have laughed if she could. She hadn't understood it before, but she and the man who'd stolen her medallion served the same master. Her father had always said the universe was nothing but a great big joke at the expense of the creatures who inhabited it. She clenched her jaw, shutting down thoughts of her father. Risking another glance, her shoulders loosened and her heart slowed as she watched the subordinate leave.

The Heir walked around the cavern, questioning their hatchet-faced boss about the mining. He was far too close to the miners, Kia thought. If anyone was planning an assassination, this was an ideal situation. She was sure many would embrace suicide to attain such a result.

The questions and answers continued as the Heir came closer and her heartbeat quickened as he stopped in front of her. She kept her eyes down, studying the black uneven rock floor, trying to become one with it. She did not want to draw his attention. The thought of leaping forward and attempting a chopping blow to his larynx with the side of her hand flashed through her mind, but with the enhancements both the Heir and his Chenjerai were bound to have, she wouldn't even get a foot off the ground before they shot her.

The asteroid rumbled, a quivering shake of an animal's pelt.

"Don't move," roared a guard behind the Heir, raising his weapon and waving it at the miners.

The miners stiffened and waited as the shiver ebbed. Accidents often occurred on mining asteroids. Disturbing the center of a large lump of rock flying through space at tremendous speed regularly ended in disastrous explosions or cave-ins as the artificial gravity flux was disrupted by the mining process. The empire didn't care, they found another asteroid, and there were always plenty more miners.

Suddenly Kia was flying forward as a pair of hands on her back—instinctively she knew it was Oloran—gave her a violent shove. She slammed into the surprised Heir's chest, hurling him to the ground as the asteroid gave an immense groan, and the cavern collapsed with a thunderous rumbling around them. As total blackness and silence surrounded her, Kia couldn't understand why she was still breathing. Shouldn't she have been crushed to death?

"Thank you. You saved my life."

A faint light glowed and Kia realized Oloran had unwittingly saved her life, too, because she was lying on top of the Heir inside some type of personal force field that prevented her from being crushed to death as it held back the tons of rock above and around them.

"Shame," she muttered into his neck.

He responded as if she hadn't spoken. "I must inform my father the force field needs adjusting. If you hadn't struck me when you did, it wouldn't have activated in time."

"Thank Oloran. He pushed me." She was finding it difficult to breathe because the force field was pressing down on her back as it shrank to protect the Heir's body.

"I'm sorry for his death then."

"I'm not," Kia grunted as she studied the profile of the man who'd ordered her father's execution and the murder of her mother and little sisters.

His hair was brown-gold, worn in a short military cut, and his skin was light gold, smooth and perfect. He wasn't classically handsome as his nose was a fraction too long and his lips thinner than what was considered perfection, creating an impression of severity.

Her brain shifted direction as she pondered if she had the strength to strangle him. She tried to move her arms, but the force field was pressing her into his chest, and its unrelenting pressure was unyielding on her legs and back. How long did she have before it forced its way into her body?

"I take it he's responsible for those bruises on your face then?"

"He'd be upset if he was aware he'd saved my life and even more disturbed if he realized his action had also saved yours. He was expecting your men to shoot me."

The Heir gave a grim smile. "I'm sure he was. However, we have a problem."

"We?"

"Yes. I owe you my life, but the force field is programmed to recognize the nanobots in my blood and exclude any foreign object. It will consider you a foreign object."

She could feel the Heir's muscles tense as he strained against the force field, holding it back, and easing the pressure on her chest. Was the force field malleable and smart enough to slide under his arm and exclude her that way? Would it hurt as it passed through her? "That's a pity, 'cause I was hoping to kill you."

"That's very difficult to do, and you're at the end of a long queue." His lips quirked up. The sight of her father's killer smiling at something she'd said made her heart jolt. She closed her eyes. Death was coming on not so quiet feet, but it would be a relief. She looked forward to reuniting with her family and sailing across the shining sea.

"Added to which you've placed me under an obligation to save you so I'm no longer indebted to you."

The force field pressed harder, and its weight pushed against her skin as it sought a way to eject her from under its protection. An excruciating rush of pain stabbed through her back and she wondered how much time she had left. "Oh, don't bother. I absolve you from any obligation."

"Honorable. A good quality in a person," he said, pushing her head down sideways onto his shoulder as he moved his arm across her back.

What was he trying to do? Suffocate her? His arm squished her against his chest even more as he fiddled with something, but she couldn't see what he was doing. He grasped her wrist and raised her hand. "I apologize for what I'm about to do next." His sounded serious.

She twisted her wrist trying to free herself from his hot fingers as something warm and wet trickled down her hand. "Don't mind me, I'm just passing through." She wanted to laugh, the joke was funny but she couldn't get enough air into her lungs.

"Honorable and with a sense of humor. Hold still, this will hurt a little."

She caught a flash of gold and shrieked as he sliced her wrist with the sharp edge of his insignia badge, opening the vein. Why couldn't he break her neck and rid himself of what was clearly an inconvenience? Maybe monsters like him enjoyed seeing their victims bleed to death all over them? Then she saw he'd slashed her wrist and was pressing it tightly against the matching cut in his. She watched with an odd fascination as their blood mingled. She looked up and stared into his green and gold flecked pupils before trying to wrench her wrist away, but between the force field pressure on her back and legs, his body underneath hers, and his strong grip holding her wrist to his, she couldn't move. "What are you doing?"

"Giving you some of my nanobots to make the force field retreat. Your blood will reject them, but not immediately and by the time they do, we'll be rescued."

Violent nausea rippled through Kia, and a searing pain burned up her arm, spreading as the nanobots made their way into her system. She opened her mouth to scream but between the small knives stabbing her insides and the increasing pressure of the force field outside, all that came out was a strangled wheeze.

"I'm sorry." His arm tightened on her back. "This is the only way, but it won't hurt for long."

# Chapter 5: Changes

Kia dreamed she was half asleep on warm sand, basking in the sun, the air soft on her skin, and the gentle swish of waves a soothing melody in her ears.

"How much longer does she need?"

The voice was familiar, but she couldn't place it. She tried to speak but something in her mouth prevented her vocal chords from responding. She wanted to open her eyes but her eyelids were sealed shut and refused to obey. I'm not on the beach, I'm in the water, she thought, as she understood she was floating and struggled to move her arms and legs. Panic rose as she realized she wasn't swimming on the surface—she was underwater and drowning.

"She's waking," the voice said. "More seds. Quick, before she damages herself."

When she next awoke, she was lying on a bed under clean white sheets. She attempted to sit up, couldn't and found her wrists and ankles restrained. She lay back, and for a few blessed minutes, she remembered nothing. The past was blank and as white and clean and empty as the room. She relaxed in the peaceful nothingness of the present, then memory snarled its way through the barrier she'd erected along with her dead. Her mother's face surrounded by the same white blonde hair she'd inherited, the looks of love she gave her children, even when they'd disappointed her, tore at her heart. At least she hadn't had to watch them die as she had her father. The sea she'd been drowning in retreated, but a faint throbbing at the base of her skull anchored her in the present, and one thing was clear: she was still a prisoner.

What about Jared? Was he alive? Would she ever see her brother again? She sought to contain her emotions, as she'd done for the past months, but something inside had shifted, and she surrendered, crying until she fell asleep exhausted by grief.

The door sliding open woke her, and she stared in shock as the Heir followed by the man who'd stolen her medallion walked in behind him. She turned away as chaotic memories of the Heir cutting their wrists and mixing his blood with hers surfaced.

"Still sulking at her good fortune," the thief commented.

What good fortune? She closed her eyes as if that would somehow make them disappear. She jerked her head around as the Heir sat down on the bed. Heat colored her cheeks, and she met his gaze, tasting bitterness.

"A moment, Nagavi." The man left, and the Heir's green eyes glinted as he moved forward and placed his fingers over her carotid artery.

Startled, her heartbeat raced.

"Shh, little bird," he said, moving his hand around to the sore spot at the base of her skull, carefully probing the area with his fingertips. "This, unfortunately, is necessary." He sat back and considered her, his eyes narrowing. "I need you to promise me something."

She swallowed. "What?" she croaked. How long had she been unconscious? "I don't understand."

"You must promise me you will tell nobody what happened between us on Jahanamu."

"Why?"

"That is not your concern, but your life is worth nothing if the emperor hears of it, and if you speak of it to anyone, anyone at all, Teyrn will hear of it."

She had a vague memory of what he'd done to her and didn't want to dredge up the details—yet she certainly had no ambition to become an object of interest to the Emperor Teyrn. Whatever was said about the Heir, his father was a thousand times worse. If she had to choose, and it seemed she did, she would pick the son. "Okay."

"Say it," he commanded.

Her instincts spiked in alarm. Why the Heir had any interest in her at all was beyond her comprehension, but she was at his mercy. "I promise not to tell anyone you gave me your blood. That is what you're talking about, right?" She couldn't quite quash the urge to be cheeky. "Satisfied?"

His mouth quirked up in a smile. "Yes." He stood, seeming impossibly tall as he loomed over her. "You are under my protection, and I keep my promises. Nagavi!"

The man was inside before the Heir finished calling him.

"Collect her tomorrow. I want her with the others as soon as possible." Without a further look, he strode out.

"You've forgotten my name, but from here on, remember it." Nagavi leaned over and chucked her cheek as if she were a cute child, and his sharp gaze softened. "Your mind's your own tonight, and I'll come for you in the morning. In the meantime, enjoy the respite." He released her restraints and left.

After his footsteps faded, she attempted to sit up. Waiting until the dizzy spell passed, she walked on shaking legs over to the door, sighing with resignation as her suspicions were confirmed—it wasn't keyed to her palm print, and she couldn't open it from the inside.

By the time Nagavi returned in the morning, marching in without the politeness of a warning knock, she'd eaten several meals and felt normal. The soreness at the base of her skull had also eased. She'd explored the area, her fingers finding a tiny hard lump, but then more food had arrived and she'd eaten and fallen asleep again.

"Here," he handed her a pale gray uniform and a pair of boots, "I'm counting to twenty, then I'm back in." He walked out, leaving her to dress.

Kia had learned enough in the mines to obey without thinking when an order was given, and she pulled the uniform on and stuck her feet into the boots. She liked the boots—they were a perfect fit and lined with a soft fabric, and the uniform was the same style, if not the same color, as Nagavi's. She didn't understand what was happening, but was certain she'd find out soon enough.

Nagavi re-entered the room, "Do you remember what I said to you in Sestris?"

Kia shook her head.

"When I took this," he pulled her medallion out of his pocket and swung it back and forth in front of her face. "I told you I'd see you again before the year was out. I also said I looked forward to training you."

She sucked on her lower lip and kept her hands by her sides though she was aware he wanted her to reach for it. He was a professional soldier who appeared to be on close terms with the heir to the throne. He was out of her league, and she refused to give him a demonstration of his superiority by attempting to take back what was rightfully hers.

"Good girl. You'll get this back when Lord Rial says you're ready."

"Who?"

"What ignorant backwater planet do you come from?" He seemed amused at her lack of knowledge. "Lord Rialoir, Lord Rial to his elite guards, the emperor's son, and the rightful heir to the throne."

Of course the Heir possessed a name, but other than growing up with disturbing tales of what happened after the empire turned up on your doorstep and a vague fear of invasion in the distant future, she'd not learned much about the empire's power structure. Her life had been full of family, friends, affection, and love.

"How are you? Any aches, pains?"

"I'm enjoying the change from swinging a pickax if that's what you mean?"

Nagavi sighed. "Okay, did you have any kind of centering exercise before you fought your competitors?"

"What?"

Nagavi pursed his lips. "I didn't have you pegged for an idiot. You fought in srilao competitions, didn't you?" He overlaid the word competition with an extra sneer. "You haven't fought in any real battles have you?"

Kia caught her sudden flush of anger and pushed it back into its box.

"Close your eyes and take stock of how you feel, your muscles, your awareness. Stand with your feet apart, don't hurry, and do it thoroughly."

The practice of focusing before a fight was second nature to Kia, and even though she couldn't recall the last occasion she'd done this exercise, in a twinkling she had withdrawn her external awareness, calmed her wayward thoughts, and concentrated on the in and out of her breathing.

"Your heart."

Nagavi's voice sounded far away. Her heartbeat was a deep drum, strong and slow. She couldn't recall its rhythm being this robust.

"Extend your perceptions throughout your body, find any area that seems out of synch with the rest."

Apart from the tender area at the back of her head, her lungs, arms, legs, all hummed in harmony.

She opened her eyes, returning her awareness to her surroundings. Her senses were heightened in a manner she'd not experienced before. She felt exceptionally good. Whatever restorative treatments they'd administered had worked wonders.

"When you practice, our instructors start their lessons with the word, 'Check', and that is how you'll do it."

"Thank you." It was the least she could offer.

"Don't thank me yet. This next is a necessary test in order that you fully comprehend your situation here."

"Where am I? What situation?"

"Got a lot of questions, don't you? Anyone taken captive during the annexation of Emankora, which, by the way, has acknowledged the emperor as its overlord, is a slave and the empire's property. In particular, you are the personal property of Lord Rialoir."

Kia said nothing. What could she say? What had she expected? That by some miracle she was free, and they were about to send her back to Sestris? This man was an expert in building up resolve and knocking it down when he saw it worked to his advantage. She gathered her memories of those she'd loved into a tiny tight ball and resolved that somehow or other, she would avenge their deaths. She didn't know how or when, but she would find a means.

"Have you seen one of these before?"

She studied the black shiny device in his palm. "No."

"You want to make a guess?"

She curbed her impatience with his game playing. "I'm confident you're about to tell me."

"I want you to think of Lord Rial. Create an image, think of how he looked yesterday, what he wore, and what he said."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Do it."

Kia obeyed and had no difficulty calling up his almost too perfect features, the brown-gold hair, golden skin, the grim smile, the way he stood, tall, broad-shouldered, emanating power, and dominating everyone around him.

"Picture a weapon, a knife, or a phaserifle in your hand."

She opened one eye.

"Do it."

She imagined she was holding her favorite sword. The black hilt sitting easy and familiar in her hand, the weight of the curved blade perfectly balanced as she moved it through a few preparatory warmup exercises.

"Next, imagine attacking the Heir with your weapon."

This was easy, and she didn't need to ask any questions. In her mind she raised the sword, lifted it high—and doubled over, screaming as red-hot wires lanced through her brain and down her spine.

Nagavi lifted her up off the floor and dumped her on the bed.

She lay, curled up in a ball, weak and shaking, waiting for the pain to recede. "Bastard."

"Oh, you'll be calling me much worse by the time I'm finished with you. All trainees have that device implanted as a protective measure for his heir by order of the emperor himself. He values his son, and there are no lengths he will not go to protect him." He yanked her to her feet, "C'mon, enough playing. Let's go and lose the attitude." Keeping a firm grip on her arm, Nagavi marched her out of the room.

Still experiencing tiny flickers of pain from the device, and with each corridor looking much like the next, Kia soon lost her bearings. She wanted to ask how they had rescued his most high and mighty Lord Rialoir from underneath the tons of rock that must have fallen on top of them after the cave-in, but didn't have the nerve to ask. Was the collapse a natural occurrence or had the resistance struck, hoping to inflict a formidable blow? Had the entire asteroid been destroyed, or was the cavern where they'd been standing the extent of the disaster? How many miners had died? Rehanya? Another name to add to her 'so sad and so sorry, but they're dead and gone' list.

But if she dwelt on the disaster on Jahanamu, her attention would return to the Heir and what had taken place between them. Awareness of what had occurred in the mines returned last night as she drifted off to sleep. He'd given her his blood because that was the one certain method to prevent the force field from crushing her to death as it endeavored to fulfill its purpose. Afterward, she presumed the force field had recognized the nanobots in her blood and stopped its inexorable squeeze. Although why he'd bothered was an enigma. It surely wasn't because he hadn't wanted to wait for his rescue with the bloody remnants of her body hovering outside his protective bubble. The other mystery niggling away and disturbing her was his reference to keeping a promise. What promise? To who? "Where are we?"

"We are on Xarunta, the emperor's home planet, and the center of the Nadil-Kuradi Empire."

She was stunned. How long had she been unconscious? How far were they from Jahanamu?

"And we are in Lord Rial's enclave that includes vast forests, mountains, his palace, gardens, farms, the barracks, and this hospital."

They exited through a side door and Kia would have stopped and gawked if Nagavi hadn't kept dragging her along with him.

Outside the single-storied hospital building, tree-lined lush green lawns bordered paths leading to several buildings. Some appeared functional, like the hospital, but others were more ostentatious, both in size and in ornamentation. To Kia, born and bred in a town close to a desert, the richness of the colors, where every plant bore leaves of a different shade of green, took her breath away.

"Close your mouth, girl, or you'll be catching chivins," Nagavi remarked, his eyes twinkling at her expression. "And before you say anything, chivins are small flying insects. Don't worry, you'll get used to this. Although our boss spends as much time on his flagship attending to his father's business as he does here."

As they passed under a tree, covered in fat pink flowers, a flock of diminutive birds rose into the air, squawking, their iridescent wings glistening in the sunlight as they flapped and gained height.

Kia thought they were beautiful and her gaze followed them as they swooped over the gardens and disappeared. They reminded her of the flocks of multi-colored shuvuus that congregated in Sestris's central square in the evenings. She gulped down a lungful of air as the realization sank in that the price for one man to enjoy all this beauty was paid for by the death or slavery of thousands of others. Anything Lord Rial and Nagavi had planned for her would not be easy, and she'd keep one eye open for a route out of here. She would have to develop a little patience. A chance would come, of that she had no doubt.

Nagavi stopped outside a two-storied red building. "This is your home from today on, and you do not leave the barracks or the training grounds unless I give you permission. Do you understand, Kia O'Afon?"

Something in his tone sent a shiver of warning over her skin. She wanted to shout and yell at him, tell him, yes, she understood she had no say in what happened to her, and that he, the empire and Lord Rial, could do anything they wanted to her, but she clenched her jaw and remained silent.

"Otherwise you'll be punished, and as you have experienced, we have ways of making you wish you'd complied with our demands."

She nodded, examining the building, and wondering if the Chenjerai lived here.

"What was that?" Nagavi shook her.

"What was what?" She stared at him in confusion.

"When your commanding officer gives you an order, you stand up straight, do not look him in the eye, and the correct response is 'Yes, Commander.' Is that clear?"

As if in response, her nerve endings twitched, reminding her of the recent pain he'd inflicted. She straightened, fixed on Nagavi's chin—noting he had a slight cleft—and answered with a firm, "Yes, Commander." Commanding officer? What in the name of the Goddess was going on?

"Okay, let's introduce you to your fellow candidates."

# Chapter 6: A Candidate

Fellow candidates? Candidates for what? She shook her head. She supposed she'd find out when Nagavi deigned to inform her.

They entered the building, and she trotted behind him taking in her new surroundings.

The polished wooden-floored corridor was wide, and the full-length windows flooded the space with bright sunshine. After several turns, Nagavi rapped on a door, shot her an amused expression, and walked into the room.

The idea of running flashed through her mind but fled as swiftly as it came. Where could she go on a planet she didn't know—a planet that was the emperor's seat. Nagavi would catch her and administer punishment before she made it to the end of the corridor. She traipsed after the senior officer.

The room was a generously proportioned gymnasium with ceiling height windows offering a pleasant view of a manicured lawn bordered by flowering bushes. Half a dozen men and women were lifting heavy weights. On the far side of the hall, she could see others engaged in sword fighting and hand-to-hand combat. Her spirits lifted a fraction. A gym was a familiar environment. Most of the occupants appeared to be around her age or older, and a couple looked to be Nagavi's age, but they all stood to attention as they registered their senior officer's presence.

All at once, everyone's gaze shifted to the gardens, where a tall blond man strode into view, trailed by a second shorter dark-haired man. The glass must be soundproof as she couldn't hear a word even though the blond had turned around and, judging by their expressions and gestures, a heated argument between the two was in full flow.

"Annen," Nagavi said.

An older grim-faced man crossed the room, knocked on the glass, and beckoned the two adversaries inside.

The pair stared at him but broke off their argument.

Nagavi waited until the two men were inside the gym before making his announcement. "This is Kia O'Afon, the final candidate."

Kia did her best to appear nonchalant and confident while inside she curled up into a tiny ball and wished she could disappear.

"Training will begin this afternoon," Nagavi continued, "UmnaCheydii, Kia's in your charge, show her around and get her settled. I'll see you all at lunch." He spun on his heel and left, the chorus of promptly barked, "Yes, Commander" following him out of the room.

The group returned to whatever they were doing but as they did, every single person threw a glance her way, sizing her up. Of the two who'd arrived late, the darker man ignored her, and the detailed scrutiny the other gave, his eyes raking her from head to toe, nearly made her blush. The submissive stance displayed in Nagavi's presence disappeared, and they took no pains to disguise their disdainful hostility as they dismissed her chances of beating them at anything.

Annen dressed down the couple who'd been arguing outside.

Kia watched and didn't envy them having to explain their behavior to him. She turned as UmnaCheydii approached.

"As you can tell, Annen supervises the males, and I'm in charge of the females, and call me Cheydii. Nobody but Commander Nagavi uses my full name." Cheydii led her out of the gymnasium to the main corridor running the length of the building and up a flight of stairs. "Tell me, Kia, do you think you've got what it takes to qualify as one of Lord Rial's Chenjerai?"

Kia's mind went blank as she processed Cheydii's words. "I have no idea what I'm doing here. I didn't apply or pass any kind of test unless surviving a cave-in on a mining asteroid counts for something." She hadn't been told not to discuss the accident although nobody else passed that unique test. "The Heir and Nagavi brought me here."

"Ah, you're that slave."

Kia looked away. How many others had Nagavi told who she was and where she'd come from?

The woman paused, a hint of sympathy in her expression. "Life is what it is, and somehow, you've ended up here. I was a mercenary many years ago on Najlos—you won't have heard of it, it's near the central hub star system—when Nagavi saved me by pulling me out of the slave factories. I would have died a long time ago if not for him. Forget your past, Kia. Our job is to protect Lord Rial, and in return he protects us. Give your allegiance to him, and you'll have a better life than merely trying to survive."

Give my allegiance and my life to protecting the murderer of my family? Become one of his elite guards? The implant fired a warning. She stuffed the thought back into its box before she revealed her true feelings about the heir and collapsed in agony on the floor in front of this stranger.

"Oh, and don't call him the Heir. We call him Lord Rial, and it's Commander Nagavi. Here's the dormitory."

Kia entered a long room with spotless dark polished wood floors and a row of single beds against the walls on either side. "Everyone sleeps in the same room?"

Cheydii chortled. "Ah, Emankora has that type of culture, does it? You'll get used to it. The Chenjerai are a unique unit without differentiation of race or gender. The applicants come from different planets, although the majority have been under the empire's rule for a lengthy period, and there are always a few like yourself from recently annexed worlds. I will tell you that many come from aristocratic families whose members have served in the unit in the past, accordingly watch out because they don't like incomers. However, if you're chosen, all differences fade and you become part of a team that works together as a unit. Our duty and loyalty are to Lord Rial."

Kia studied the beds in great detail, to stave off a reaction to Cheydii's words. She noted the spotless white covering sheets and lack of pillows. The accommodation was clean and adequate but not luxurious.

"This bed's yours." Cheydii opened a cupboard, showing her a pile of neat uniforms. "You pick up clean uniforms each morning or as necessary," she explained. "Bathrooms and showers are through there." She nodded toward the end of the room. "Annen and I have rooms after the bathrooms, and farther along you'll find a steam room and a massage room. As you can appreciate, we take good care of the applicants." She led the way out of the dormitory. "In here," she opened the door opposite, "is the recreation room."

Kia peeked in. Easy chairs were placed in groups about the room with some facing the full-length glass window, a couple of desks with comunits, and that was it.

"That," Cheydii walked over to the window, "is Lord Rial's residence. You'll get to see inside if and when you're successful."

Kia looked, her jaw dropping at the golden domed roofs peeping above the trees. "What happens to those who aren't successful?"

Cheydii laughed. "Well, we don't execute them, if that's what you're wondering. It depends. If they have other valuable skills, they stay here, but that's rare. If they're not chosen, they return home, where they're honored for having achieved candidate status." She paused and studied Kia. "You want to return to the mines?"

There was nothing intimidating in her tone. Kia remembered Oloran. Here, she'd learn how to become a more skilled fighter. She bit back the instant 'what do you think' response, turning away from an image of Lord Rial seated on an elaborate golden throne, issuing orders to decimate this or that planet and its people. "No."

"Remember that when it gets tough and it will. C'mon, let's go eat."

As Kia followed, she was sure she'd remember where everything was in a few days but somewhat stupefied by her changed circumstances, the place was a maze.

Cheydii halted outside a door on the first floor. "A tip. Don't take offense when the ribbing starts, but don't give an inch either. Don't worry, the candidates aren't informed about your history, and it'll be easier for you if you don't mention the asteroid or your status. Keep that to yourself."

Kia could imagine how stating she was a slave who until recently had spent her days in the dark belly of a mine, hacking at the rock with a pickax, would simply confirm everything these people thought of her. She lagged behind Cheydii, took a deep breath, and walked into the room.

A plain wooden table filled with steaming bowls of food and carafes of water occupied the center of the large room. Nagavi sat at the top, with Annen on his right. All the seats, except two—one on his left and one at the bottom near the door—were occupied.

Kia slid into the empty seat near the door next to a girl with bright copper hair who gave her a quick grin. She clasped her hands together, her eyes down, avoiding the gauntlet of stares.

"Praise the Emperor Teyrn," Nagavi intoned.

"And the Heir," came the communal response.

"Kia!" Nagavi's voice split the air.

What had she done wrong? Alarmed, she shot a look of panic at him. Everyone remained with heads down though she realized they were absorbing every nuance of the exchange.

"Your response?"

She hadn't responded because in Sestris they only praised the Gods before a meal, and she was busy inhaling the delicious smells of freshly cooked food, but she should have known he'd miss nothing. "Um... and... and the Heir," she stuttered

Nagavi gave an exaggerated sigh. "And his Heir and don't be shy about saying it."

She studied the intricate grain of the wood on the table. "And his Heir."

"Let us begin."

Nobody said a word during the meal, the silence broken by the sounds of utensils on plates and various chewing and swallowing noises.

Despite Cheydii's earlier pep talk, Kia's goal was to survive and take her revenge. She wasn't here to make friends and wasn't the least bit interested in making a cozy home here on the emperor's home planet, but the food was an improvement from the mines, and she didn't expect to be stuffing bread in her pocket to make it through the day. She was on her third bowl of soup when the door flew open, and four Chenjerai in their plain green uniforms, without their visored helmets, marched into the room.

Chairs scraped and spoons clattered as everyone stood, heads bowed in silence as the Heir entered.

This time Kia copied the others and managed not to stand out as the exception. She could see his boots, and her heart beat a little faster as she remembered his fingers on her neck, taking her pulse. _Shh, little bird._ Yes, she was trapped in a cage.

"Sit down, candidates, and continue eating," their visitor instructed.

Kia sat and continued eating, but her appetite had gone.

Lord Rial walked around the far side of the table pausing by Nagavi, who'd remained standing. "You start this afternoon?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Good. If I can get away, I'll drop in."

"I'm sure the candidates will appreciate it. Thank you, my lord."

Kia kept eating, aware of the Heir completing his circuit and listening to his footsteps coming closer, but instead of exiting, he stopped behind her chair. "Are you settling in, Kia?" he asked.

Kia spluttered as her soup went down the wrong way. "Yes, my lord," she choked out, hot with embarrassment at being the focus of his attention and displaying to the room how unaccustomed she was to such notice.

"Good, but don't choke on my account."

Was he enjoying her discomfort? She didn't look up. It was safer to stare at her hand gripping the spoon a tad too tightly. She bit the inside of her lip hard, bringing tears to her eyes, as she endeavored to deflect her antagonistic thoughts. "No, my lord."

"Good. Commander Nagavi, I take my leave of you."

Not caring who noticed, Kia sagged with relief as he swept out, shadowed by his guards.

"Annen, Cheydii," Nagavi instructed, "have everyone assemble in the gymnasium in five minutes."

# Chapter 7: Training

Nagavi began the session by having everyone sit in a large circle and introduce themselves; names, followed by town and planet.

Kia wondered if this was for her benefit as the rest of the group must surely be acquainted with each other.

As Cheydii had mentioned, several were from Djem, Xarunta's capital, and judging by the superior manner in which some individuals surveyed the others, these must be the sons of aristocrats who'd trained for this from birth. The tall blond who'd stared blatantly at her yesterday had to be one of those.

Kia hoped they all failed. She recognized none of the names of the planets mentioned and felt woefully ignorant, a failing she swore to remedy as soon as she could access a comunit. It would be useful to find out if any originated, like her, from recently annexed worlds. When her turn came, she introduced herself as Kia O'Afon from the desert town of Ko'rinmas on the southern continent of Emankora. Ko'rinmas didn't exist, but the word meant invisible in her mother's dialect. She enjoyed having a private joke that nobody would understand and ignored the smirk on the commandant's face.

The opening exercises Nagavi set comprised shooting with various types of firearms. "We record each shot you take and every one counts toward your total score. If you aspire to join the ranks of Lord Rial's Chenjerai, make every shot count."

Cheydii accompanied her to a row of holovid booths at the rear of the hall and fitted a close-fitting cap interwoven with thin silver filaments on her head. The headpiece had a thin flexible holoscreen attached to the front. "You'll work your way through a series of exercises. All you have to do is adjust your aim to the weight and size of the weapon in your hand and shoot at the mark."

At the beginning, it had been odd watching the screen knowing her hands were empty, yet aware of the weight of the weapon in her hand, but she soon got the hang of the device. Sighting down the scope of her first weapon, a tiny stunner, she aimed and picked off enemies, who rushed her in small and larger groups. She enjoyed using the advanced weaponry, some of which she had no idea even existed; pulse guns, phaserifles, hefty hand plascannons, and focused light rifles, known as FLRs, which used either a compressed beam to hit a single spot or a diffuse beam to decimate half a dozen opponents. Shooting wasn't in her skill set, as srilao was a hand-to-hand martial art, but she surprised herself by scoring direct hits on all of her targets.

By the time she was on to the lasecrossbows she was having fun imagining Nagavi's face on every objective. It added extra impetus. If she couldn't visualize her real enemy, then the chief officer was second best.

When she sat again with the others after the holovid session ended, the return to reality was sobering. The empire still owned her, but since the afternoon she stood in the street locking the practice hall door until now, fear had dominated her life. Initially, the fear had been for others; her family, her town and its people, and for her planet. On Jahanamu, she had feared for her life. She still wasn't free, but here she could absorb herself in mastering new skills and use them to further her own agenda, and that felt good.

For the first time that day, she was calm enough to give her fellow candidates serious scrutiny and surreptitiously eyed the twelve men and seven women. If her assumptions were correct, at some point, she would have to fight each one of them. Irrespective of their skin and hair color or size, they all wore the earnest expression of determined commitment. She recognized that look. It was the one she'd worn since her first srilao lesson at four years old. A few looked like they might give her some trouble, but she wasn't overly bothered. She heard their names but let them float in one ear and straight out the other. She didn't care about their names, didn't need to be on a team or compete against them, and hoped they all died in excruciating pain and extremely—"Ow!"

Nagavi smacked her across the side of her head. "Paying full attention, are we?"

She'd been lost in her own thoughts and hadn't noticed him get up and walk around the outside of the group. "Yes, Commander."

"Okay, everyone. Boots off and choose a partner."

The group stood, and Kia uttered a mental groan as the tall blond man who'd been arguing outside yesterday, worked his way toward her.

"Hi, I'm Jalux. Would you care to partner me?" The smaller dark-haired man he'd quarreled with stepped in front of her and bowed. "I'm sure you heard, but to rephrase our trainer's instructions, this is a free-for-all hand combat session. He wants to assess our strengths in fighting an opponent trained in a different discipline, and I'm happy to oblige." He grinned cheekily.

She wondered if his offer was genuine or he'd noticed the other guy approaching, and this was a deliberate move to thwart him. "Yes, thank you, and I'm Kia."

His grin grew wider as he leaned in close. "Yes, even the Heir knows your name."

She had felt a slight thaw toward him, but his words made her want to lay him out flat. "Aren't I the lucky one?" she said following him into one of the fighting circles Cheydii and Annen had marked out while Nagavi talked.

He might be smaller than some of the others, but they were of a matching height, and she couldn't help but notice his stance. Head down, chin tucked in, tightened abdominal muscles, right arm close to protect his liver and ribs, left arm slightly in front—positioned for bringing it up swiftly to defend himself—and feet staggered wider than his hips.

She copied him and watched recognition of what she was doing dawn on him.

His eyes twinkled as he laughed. "Okay, point to you."

She smiled back at him.

Nagavi led them through a set of warmup exercises: stretches, jumping jacks, squats, push up, lunges, similar to any other warmup she'd ever done. "Annen, Cheydii and I will circulate and award points. The goal is not to witness your ability to kill an opponent but to test your control. When both of your feet are outside the circle, you're defeated. Any injury that prevents a candidate from taking part, or puts him out of the game for longer than five minutes, will also see you disqualified."

Shame, thought Kia, giving Jalux a polite grimace. I was looking forward to doing some serious injury.

"Go!"

Kia sprang toward Jalux, but he was swift and she barely clipped his chest with her foot as she flipped mid-air.

"Great move, if a bit slow," he taunted her, shuffling to the left.

"Don't be scared, little boy." She watched his eyes flare with something. Was it being called little boy? Had she hit a nerve? Always the smaller lad, he would have learned to use speed to make up for his lack of size. "Don't worry, wee laddie, the big bad lady won't hurt you." She danced sideways as Jalux shifted forward and made a grab at her leg, smiling when she slashed down and caught his arm, twisting it behind him.

He wriggled and slid out of the hold seconds before she was about to shove him outside the line, and he frowned as he focused on finding the pattern to her movements.

Kia kept up her rapid attack and even more immediate withdrawal, watching his chest heave as he fended her off. Experience told her she had him on the defense, and it was purely a matter of waiting until he misjudged his chances, and victory was hers. A heartbeat later, she spun, kicked the back of his knee, caught his wrist as he went down and swung him well clear of the circle.

Jalux bowed, accepting his defeat, and joined four others sitting down on the side watching the matches.

Kia walked over to the window where the other victors stood—the woman with the flame colored hair, the blond man, and two others—trying to keep the grin off her face. Her blood was singing and she felt good. Blowing out a breath, she glimpsed herself in the glass and stared in surprise at her pale reflection. This was the first occasion she'd seen herself since plaiting her hair for her afternoon srilao teaching lesson in her previous life. She was thinner, her hair had grown, and short pale curls covered her head. Squeezing her upper arms the muscles felt harder and leaner, and something else had changed, but she couldn't put her finger on the exact difference.

"That round has given us ten victors."

The other matches had finished while she'd been staring at her reflection instead of studying the opposition, and the losers gave a few unenthusiastic cheers from where they squatted along the wall.

"Kia! Tamaiko! You're up next."

She headed for the circle where Nagavi stood waiting.

The blond, who'd been leaning against the window as if he was waiting for a friend and not taking part in a competition for the most highly rated position a young aristocrat could want, sauntered after her.

"I look forward to getting my hands on you," he muttered as he passed her.

A slow rage built in Kia's gut, and she glared at him. Oh, he'd feel her all right. He'd feel her hands around his neck. She took a few deep breaths, calming herself. She'd fought enough matches to know an angry fighter was a sloppy fighter, and Tamaiko had a longer reach than Jalux.

"Go!"

Kia took her time, assessing Tamaiko's style. He started off aiming to grab her in a wrestling hold, intent on using his greater mass and muscle power, but she was too quick. She let him get close on a couple of occasions, teasing him by throwing in a srilao move, then twirling out of reach, laughing as he missed her.

"Go, Kia!" somebody shouted.

"Silence," Nagavi growled, and once again the sound of the combatants shuffling around the floor and the huff and puff of their lungs were the only noises in the gymnasium.

The amusement had gone from Tamaiko's expression; instead, the grim calculating look said he had sized her up and would do whatever was necessary to win.

Kia didn't care. Ignoring the press of attention from Nagavi and the group, she surrendered herself to the flow of movement, for srilao taught that all fight had a rhythm, a dance, to it—you had to find it and go with it. She could tell Tamaiko wasn't used to losing, and the longer she stayed out of his reach, the more she riled him. An opening appeared on his left side; she skipped in, struck his spleen hard with her thumb knuckle, and twirled away. "You'll have to work harder than that to get your hands on me." She had this fight. Tamaiko, for all his confidence, was no serious match for her.

She was getting bored with how easy it was to gain the upper hand and was looking for an opportunity to end the match when he stumbled. Surprised, as her strike had glanced off his arm, she watched him fall forward and didn't move promptly enough as he made a grab for her leg.

He caught her ankle and was on his feet, flipping her over onto her back. Before she could respond, he grabbed her tunic, yanked her up off the floor, twisted her around, and had his arm tight across her throat as she trod air. "Well, I've got my hands on you good and proper now, haven't I?" he whispered in her ear, stepping backward toward the edge as he spoke.

She gripped his arm straining to loosen his grip while she kicked his shins, his knees, punched and elbowed his torso with her other arm, wriggled furiously, trying to seize his fingers but he'd fisted his hands. She was causing damage, but not enough. All he had to do to win was keep walking until he reached the edge of the circle.

He swung her around and flung her to the floor.

Kia glanced down. One foot remained inside—he'd misjudged. A hot rage ignited in the pit of her belly as she realized he'd played her, pretending to be slow, letting her think she had the upper hand, but she wouldn't lose. Not to him, not to anyone. She flew at him, shoved him hard, and he staggered sideways, not quite regaining his balance before she charged him again, channeling every bit of anger she had suppressed since the capture of Sestris.

This time when she attacked she wanted each blow to have maximum impact, to hurt. Forward, back, spin, leap, kicking hard at his chest. Again and again. She didn't feel his strikes; the single thing she was aware of was the rage, a red hot live fire consuming her. She almost missed his jeer.

"You're a cheat. You've got implants."

Kia stared at him, and then everything slotted into place, and she understood. She saw Lord Rial's profile, his perfect skin, his green gold-flecked eyes as he turned toward her, felt his body beneath her as the force field pushed her against him, remembered their wrists pressed together. She was a first-class fighter, but this, this new person wasn't her, couldn't be the real her. This change was the Heir's fault. He'd given her his blood, and those things that entered her body along with his blood had altered her. That was why she'd hit every target, her blows were more accurate, her body stronger and faster, and she fought better than she ever had before. The fury flared, boiled up, and spilled over. Mentally reaching again for her black hilted sword, she swung the glittering blade at him. "No, no, no," she roared and fell, writhing in agony on the floor, her screams echoing throughout the gymnasium as the device at the base of her skull activated.

# Chapter 8: Opportunity

Her brain was cotton wool. Soft-edged images floated one after another in front of her: helping her mother serve the evening meal; the twins, Lilia and Alsling, giggling helplessly as Jared teased them; her father, smiling at them all with affection.

"I think we should adjust the delivery stream. She'll damage herself if she continues like this." The speaker sounded worried.

The dream fled as reality pressed down on her. She remained still, aware of the soft fetters on her wrists and ankles, and kept her breathing regular, hoping to pick up something that would improve her understanding of her position here.

Someone—Nagavi?—lifted the sheets and released her restraints.

"No. She has to learn this lesson." The Heir's voice was harsh.

"What if she breaks?"

A pause before the answer came. "She'll mend. There's plenty of time for her to realize the benefits of compliance, but sooner would be better than later."

"At least she's not afraid anymore."

The Heir gave a quiet laugh. "After what I saw yesterday, I agree, but she's awake."

"I'll be outside."

The bed sank as the Heir sat down. "Kia?"

She didn't move. The rage had gone, instead, an unnatural calmness occupied the place it had inhabited—but he remained the cause of everything wrong in her life.

"I am sorry. I didn't intend for this to happen. When I gave you my blood, I knew the nanobots would stay in your system long enough to save you. Your spine was damaged, and there were numerous minor injuries that needed repairing. Your own immune system should have rejected them, but it seems you are a compatible host."

He had her attention. She opened her eyes. "And there's nothing the superior advanced medical treatments available at the center of your empire can do about that?"

"The nanobots were tailored for my genes, consequently I have no idea if they'll work in the same manner for you they do for me, but you've already experienced some of the advantages."

He spoke as if he were comforting a child who'd hurt herself, reassuring her that soon everything would be fine. But this ache for those she loved, and whom she'd never see, touch, laugh or be with again, this would not be all right—ever.

He raised his hand as if to give her an encouraging pat, but she flinched, and he let his hand drop. "I will not hurt you. You are under my protection, Kia, I don't want you to fear me."

"I'd say the damage is done."

"I've said I'm sorry—twice, and that's twice more than anyone else other than my father has ever gotten." He smiled at her, and the gold flecks in his eyes sparkled.

For a split second he dazzled her. Without his habitual forbidding expression, she saw, even with the trappings of his position and the power of life and death he held over many, a man carrying a heavy burden. Despite her mother's desire to have her daughter settled in a partnership and hold at least one grandchild on her knee, Kia had been happy with her training to be a srilao teacher, and her desire to follow in her father's footsteps and aim for the Electorate. If Rial had been from Sestris, she would certainly have granted him more than one look. She shook her head to clear it and the moment was gone.

"Through sheer happenstance, you saved my life, Kia, and it seems I have even more reason to see no harm comes to you." His grim expression returned and his voice hardened. "Find some method of coming to terms with the situation you find yourself in, and cease this harmful behavior." He rose and exited without a backward look.

Nagavi poked his head around the door. "Cheydii will fetch you early tomorrow. Be ready for training."

When she woke the following morning, whatever sedative they'd dosed her with had flushed itself from her system, and her first thoughts were the Heir's words. He was right, she did have to come to terms with her situation. Last night, she'd wondered if she should make any effort at all. With her heightened improved abilities she'd undoubtedly perform well, but a new resolve was solidifying. She intended to do her best, not for the Heir or Nagavi, but for herself. She was alive and healthy, and her goal of dispatching Lord Rial was still the priority. Becoming an elite guard would move her closer to her target.

Walking beside Cheydii in the fresh early morning sunshine as they headed for the barracks, she breathed in the smells of fresh grass and fragrant flowers. "How long do the trials take?"

Cheydii smiled. "Living in the present after all, are you? Good. Well, four Chenjerai died recently, and four out of the twenty contestants will replace them. The training takes a month, and Lord Rial himself decides who will join his guard. Being the best at everything doesn't mean you'll be picked. Your ability to work in a team and how you relate with others are taken into account. There's more than just hitting targets and knocking people down, although," she snorted with laughter, "those are mandatory."

Jahanamu had killed four of Lord Rial's elite guards. She felt nothing for them. They'd chosen their lot. How many miners had died? Had the cave-in been a genuine accident? How much of the asteroid had been destroyed? She would never know if there had been a plot to kill the Heir, but, if that was the case, the conspirators failed spectacularly and their own people had paid the highest price.

They arrived at the dining room as the rest of the group filed in for breakfast.

Kia ignored the speculative looks and sat in the same seat as yesterday.

"How are you?" The redhead beside her inquired, eyeing the hot bowls of steaming grain and fruit. "I could eat a jarak."

Kia's eyes slid sideways surprised at the sympathy she heard in the woman's voice. "I've had worse days, but I'm okay. Thanks for asking. I didn't catch your name yesterday, and what's a jarak?"

"My parents gave me the name Mejara, but all I've ever been called is Red. A jarak is a delicious animal on my home planet," she laughed. "You should eat up. We're taking a field trip today."

Nagavi walked in, and everyone was on their feet. "Good morning, candidates." His gazed raked them. "Where's—"

The door flew open and Jalux rushed in, stopping short as he caught Nagavi's smile.

"How considerate of you to join us, candidate Jalux, but you'll miss breakfast. Take your place, though, as we appreciate your effort in making an appearance." Nagavi walked to the top of the table and stood behind his seat.

Kia mouthed the obligatory praise to the emperor and his heir, mentally shooting a few crossbow bolts into Nagavi's heart, and tucked in as heartily as Red.

Jalux sat in his place, his eyes down, his back straight, and ate not a crumb.

He was going to find the initial session hard, Kia thought, wondering if she should sneak a couple of sweet rolls into her pocket for him. She remembered what it was like to work long hours without enough food in her belly but decided against it. He'd chosen to be here, whereas the miners, fed twice a day on food that scarcely kept them alive, didn't have the luxury of choice. Besides, if another candidate was weakened, her chances of success increased.

After breakfast, Nagavi lined them up outside in twos. A short brisk march brought them to a landing field, where a dozen bright silver flits squatted in two neat rows near three space shuttles standing tall in their launch pads. All bore the Heir's insignia, the curved outlines of bird wings over flames. Beside the field sat a neat white building that housed the control center.

Kia's eyes were wide, her neck periscoping from side to side. All this must belong to the Heir. She wondered at the wealth and power he had at his disposal. She shut her mouth, realizing she'd been gawping like a desert nomad entering Sestris for his first visit.

"That was the most dramatic thing anyone's done to avoid fighting with me. Thanks for the easy win which helped me secure first place." Tamaiko's high-pitched whisper in her ear, brought her up short as he pushed past her, turned with a big grin plastered across his face and laughed.

He looked so cheeky and pleased with himself, her knee-jerk response of annoyance dissipated, and she grinned back at him. "No problem. I'm happy to give a fellow candidate a boost up the ratings."

"Darn it," he said. "I would have bet money on it you'd rise to the bait."

Okay, he'd caught her out and won yesterday's bout, but she was a quick learner. There would be other chances to defeat him, and on the next occasion, he'd not find it easy to trick her. She followed the others as Cheydii and Annen herded them into three of the flits.

Seated on a bench, Kia found herself squished between Red and a candidate named Jeehar on a seat meant for two. Three more people were squashed on the seat behind them, and Jalux was on the floor. It wasn't his day, Kia reflected, as she noticed him doing his best to get comfortable.

"Ooh! What in the galaxy are those huge beasts?" Red exclaimed.

Jalux knelt and peered out the window. "They're his pet dragoi hounds."

Kia leaned forward to observe what had caught Red's interest.

Lord Rial strode along the edge of the landing field with half a dozen massive ebony hounds, trotting around him. Although they weren't leashed, the ferocious-looking animals remained docilely by his side. He looked over toward the flits and nodded, acknowledging their presence, and then Kia's flit took off, and he disappeared from sight.

Kia spent the flight gazing at the blur of green tapestry coloring the lower half of the plasglass window. Perhaps on the return, she'd catch a clearer view of Xarunta? She might even get a glimpse of the capital, Djem. The thought darted unbidden into her mind—a metropolis was an ideal place to disappear. She didn't dismiss the idea but allowed it to sink below the surface. She wanted to kill Lord Rial and his tyrannous father, but the notion of freedom was too irresistible to reject out of hand.

After half an hour, the flit landed on a plateau, and Kia, along with the others, clambered out, stretching and looking around. She studied the surrounding steep-sided hills, feeling a twinge of pity for Jalux. He would have to run up and down these tree-covered slopes on an empty stomach.

After the flits had discharged their cargo, they lifted off, their silver wings catching the sunlight, and Cheydii and Annen gathered the group for a briefing.

"Okay." Nagavi smiled at them, though it was more a predatory grimace that a facial gesture of sociability. "Yesterday was fun, and yes, I do have a warped sense of humor, but today we're going to assess your abilities in a different arena. To enter the Chenjerai you need selflessness, vigilance, physical and mental stamina, integrity, and courage. Cheydii will take you through a warmup, then we'll be testing your physical stamina, determination, and orienteering skills. Candidates, are you ready?"

Kia sighed as the space flits became dots and merged into the blue sky.

"Kia!"

"Yes, Commander."

"Yes to what?"

"To being ready, Commander."

"Okay, you heard the end bit, here's the first part. After the warmup, we'll issue equipment along with instructions, and if you haven't returned by the required time, we leave you here to make your own way back to whatever miserable planet you came from because you'll be disqualified. Are you ready now, Kia?"

She kept her gaze down. Go back to hacking at a rock wall in the semi-dark with a primitive pickax? "Yes, sir, more than ready." Would serving in the Chenjerai offer more than despair? Was she really taking on board Lord Rial's point? But she wouldn't forget her dead. She couldn't ever forget them because they waited for her in her dreams, but she'd live for them. Live to revenge them. She stood a little straighter.

Nagavi informed them the exercise had to be completed within three hours and each candidate's route was personalized. Cheydii and Annen issued everyone with a thin, flexible headband. These devices had a diminutive vidscreen that dropped down above her right eye, giving directions when needed.

Kia was from a desert region, and the stifling humidity of Xarunta's forests was a new experience. The physical aspect was taxing, but another difficulty had been following the directions from the headband. 'Turn left' would flash on the vidscreen, the words becoming larger and brighter until she obeyed. This resulted in scrambling up or down near vertical slopes, or on one occasion down a steep path that was invisible until she was lying flat on her stomach, peering over a cliff edge.

She was making good speed running along a narrow trail, had gotten the hang of ignoring the pesky tiny flashing countdown numbers, and was relishing the freedom of being alone. She was exploring an exotic wilderness with a simple challenge she understood. The trail she was on came to an end, and the vidscreen flashed a bright 'Ahead'. She assessed the steep forested slope, thinking it looked trickier than anything she'd covered until this point, and she was right. Each tree took her passage as a personal affront to the peaceful environment and expressed its displeasure by slapping her face and body with branches at every opportunity. She'd slithered about a third of the way when the countdown numbers flashed. Momentarily distracted she stumbled over a tree root and tripped.

The lower section of the hillside was steeper with fewer trees and bushes, and she plummeted down the slope, her descent brought to a sudden end as she slammed sideways into a tree, whacking her head against the ridged bark of the trunk. She blinked, watching the pretty stars spin, and waiting until they slowed their crazy dance before staggering to her feet. She leaned against the tree, waiting for her vision to clear, then stood still. Her vidscreen wasn't working. She took the headband off, shook it, tapped and wiped the screen, and put the device on again. Nothing.

The best thing would be to retrace her steps and hope the thing worked by some kind of transmission that reactivated once she reached the top. Or not. Her options were clear-cut. Return to the starting point, continue with the plan to join the Chenjerai and assassinate the Heir. Or... make a run for freedom? A life planned for her by others, albeit with benefits, or her own path, irrespective of the risks? The chance to strike an effective blow against the tyrant or seek out and join a resistance somewhere in the galaxy?

_You are under my protection,_ the Heir had told her. Ignoring the sudden fluttering in her stomach, she flung the damaged headband as far as she could and set off, skidding down the hillside to the bottom of the narrow defile. Catching her breath, she checked her position, estimating she had maybe two hours at the most before Nagavi realized she wasn't late and triggered an alarm. Scrambling up the opposite slope, she paused before setting off at a steady jog, traveling away from where she estimated the meeting spot was. It wasn't as easy as she'd hoped because the lush greenness of the forest created a difficult terrain that made for slow progress. The trees were too close together, and the flocks of dazzlingly colored birds distracted her as they flew, squawking, into the air when she disturbed them. As she hiked, her brain worked overtime planning how she would survive. Sestris had always needed a steady source of manual laborers. Once she reached Djem, she would find something—washing dishes or cleaning or some kind of manual labor. The important thing was she'd be in control of her own destiny.

A faint drone penetrated her musings. The flits! She looked up, but the canopy obscured all but a few glimpses of the sky. Hidden as she was, they'd never spot her, but if she listened, she could ascertain their direction and make sure she headed the opposite way. She was rewarded when one flit, then the other two, crossed the small pale blue patches above her. Five minutes later their low hum had faded. They would have come from the compound and confirmed which direction to avoid. She persevered, halting occasionally to listen for the drone of the flits and eventually came across an animal trail. Checking her surroundings, she heard nothing but the buzzing of insects and the jaunty singing of unfamiliar birds.

Upping her speed, she pounded along and rounded a bend in the track. The next minute she caught a flash of black out of the corner of her eye, felt something sharp seize her right ankle, lurched forward, and smacked the ground. She tried to rise, roll over and see what had attacked her, but another—much heavier—animal pounced on her back, slamming her to the ground. She lay with her face pressed into the dirt, terrified, her heart hammering, and certain she was about to be torn to pieces.

# Chapter 9: Flight

"Well, well. What tasty morsel have you caught here, Fiata?"

The Heir spoke mildly, but the quiet menace in his voice frightened her more than if he'd shouted.

How had he found her this quickly? She'd had less than an hour of freedom before his vicious dragoi hounds pinned her to the ground. A scream lodged in her throat, but she clenched her jaw, and her eyes teared up with the effort of not thinking about different ways of killing him.

"Maorga, release," Rial commanded.

The sharp pressure on her ankle vanished, but the weight on her back remained, shifting, the animal's paws, claw tips slightly extended, digging in as it kneaded her flesh. Get it off me, she pleaded silently, imagining her skin ripped open by the beast, but she wouldn't beg. He knows I'm trapped, and he's annoyed because he had to come and find me, and he wants me to feel it. She flinched as Rial grasped her ankle and ran his fingers—none too gently—over her skin, examining the area where the animal had gripped her.

"You're fine," he said, dropping her leg. "Fiata, down."

As the creature stepped off her, Lord Rial grabbed her upper arm, and she gasped as he jerked her to her feet. "What—" The words died in her mouth as he turned her around and yanked the back of her tunic up. "No skin broken. Well done, Fiata," he said. Gripping her upper arm, he marched off, pulling her with him.

Resentment flushed through her at the scornful way he was treating her, but she bit her lip. She wasn't going to say anything that could agitate him even more.

The pack of huge energetic dragoi bounded behind them, playfully nipping and snarling at each other.

He walked fast, too fast, and she was forced to run to keep up with him, but he showed no patience and snapped at her if she slowed. If she stumbled, he dragged her along. He was making it very clear how angry he was with her.

"Lord Rial."

He ignored her.

She spoke a little louder. "Lord Rial? I'm sorry." Even to herself, she sounded pathetic.

He halted and turned to face her.

She quailed at the furious look on his face.

He shook her, not hard enough to hurt, but her head bobbed back and forward. "What did you think you were doing?" he hissed.

"I... I fell, and the headband was damaged, and... and..."

"And what? You sent a prayer of thanks to your goddess for giving you an opportunity you couldn't resist?"

He didn't need to insult her beliefs. "I didn't plan it, but if I'm a slave, it's..." she swallowed and took a deep breath. "It's my duty to escape." She stared defiantly at the insignia on his uniform.

"Your duty to escape! If you weren't so unaware of the dangers you expose yourself to that would be funny. If you're a slave, it's your duty to do as ordered or else you're punished. You're a twenty-three-year-old woman, not a child attending the first day of school who wants to stay at home. Kia," he gave an exasperated sigh, but when he continued, his voice had lost its aggressive edge. "You have nothing and no one, and believe it or not, I'm trying to protect you, but you're making it difficult. I am concerned for your welfare, and I'm your best chance of staying alive, so stop fighting me."

How considerate of him to remind her of her pitiable circumstances. But he was right, she was alone. However, she'd be honest and refuse to make a promise she couldn't keep. "I'll try."

"Is that the best you can offer?"

She looked up at him, but his expression was no longer full of raw anger. "You're hurting my arm. Could you let go of me?"

He didn't apologize or release her arm but relaxed his hold. "Is there anything else you'd like?"

The heat rose in her cheeks under his scrutiny. "No." She would have loved a long cold refreshing drink of water but wasn't going to test the limits of his patience. "Thank you," she added, hating how weak and useless she sounded.

After hiking for a while, one of the animals startled her by licking her fingers. The creature came up to her waist, and its jet black eyes, lolling red tongue, and razor sharp fangs longer than her hand, made her more than nervous. She drew closer to Lord Rial.

"Are you afraid of them?"

"Yes. They're enormous and really scary."

He seized her hand and held it out to the hound.

She tried to pull away, but he'd imprisoned her wrist and shushed her.

"Fiata, this is a friend," he instructed the animal. "Allow him to taste you," he told her.

She did her best not to recoil as the beast's rough tongue licked her palm, leaving a layer of glistening drool.

"Enough," he ordered, and the hound retreated. "He's the leader of the pack, and they have a telepathic link, therefore they will all consider you the same way he does. This also means if you try this caper again, they'll be able to track your scent with ease. On the bright side, they won't eat you." He took her arm again, and they moved off.

What was wrong with him? First he was incensed and shaking her, then he was telling the hounds she was a friend, although there were definite drawbacks to the latter. She was in a world where she didn't know the rules, no one would tell her what they were, but everyone expected her to do what they wanted without protest.

"When equipment breaks down, you stay where you are until assistance arrives. Understood?"

She nodded, then remembered how persnickety he'd been on the previous occasion he'd asked her to agree to something. "Yes, I understand, and I will obey." The last bit popped out before she could control her tongue.

"Don't be cheeky."

"I can't win, can I? I assumed you wanted obedience."

"I don't want a robot."

No, she thought, you want a willing slave, but refrained from responding in case she tipped him back into an antagonistic mood again. She gritted her teeth. A reasonable master was an improvement on an infuriated one.

Kia heard voices as they neared the landing area. Oh, no. She'd have to face Nagavi. She sighed. This day was going from bad to worse.

"Fiata," Rial called the dragoi to him and ruffled the brute's ears. "Hunt. Feed," he instructed, and the pack of dragoi raced off, slipping into the forest.

Nagavi, Annen, and the drone pilot looked up as Lord Rial strode into the clearing, his hand still gripping Kia's arm. Nagavi broke away from the other two and met them far enough away that their conversation wouldn't be overheard.

"Her headband broke, and she got lost," Rial told him.

Nagavi fired a look at her that should have incinerated her on the spot. "Is that the story we're telling?"

Lord Rial grinned. "Yes, it'll do." He gave her a little shake. "Won't it?"

She stared at her boots. "Yes, Lord Rial."

"Okay." He let go of her arm and shoved her in the direction of the flit. "Get on board."

She stumbled at the unexpected push and glowered at him, but he'd turned away, confident she would obey his instructions, and was speaking with Nagavi. As she marched toward the aircraft she reflected on how he'd kept hold of her arm the entire way, ready to prevent any escape attempt she might make. As if she'd try with the dragoi sniffing at her heels. What did he think she was? He treated her like an animal, herding her here and there. She hated him and mentally stabbed an image of Nagavi before the implant reacted.

The two other candidates waiting inside the little aircraft, Jalux and Ohiko, a thin dark intense man, watched Kia collapse onto the seat.

Focused on getting as far away as possible, she'd ignored the bruises from the fall, and pushed herself hard before Lord Rial and his pack of monsters appeared, after which her brain had stopped working altogether. She was sweaty, bruised from the fall and when she'd hit the tree, the muscles in her thighs and calves trembled, her vision was blurry, and she closed her eyes as reaction set in. She couldn't have cared less if the Emperor Teyrn himself appeared and offered to escort her on a personal tour of his realm.

"What happened to you?" Jalux looked as rough as Kia.

She might as well tell them the official version before Nagavi said something to embarrass her. "I fell down a hill, the vidscreen broke, I got lost, and—"

"You too?" Jalux exclaimed.

"What?"

"Yes, but I didn't fall. The screen stopped working, and I had to wait until everyone had returned before Annen fetched me." He studied her. "Ah. Lord Rial found you, didn't he?"

"No, it was the dragoi. Not my happiest moment."

"Lord Rial's land extends for hundreds of miles, and guard drones regularly sweep the areas. You are aware they kill any unauthorized human, aren't you?"

Kia swallowed.

"Are the hounds as savage as everyone says?" Jalux asked with too much enthusiasm.

She had much to learn about this new world. What had she been thinking? She'd acted on instinct, listened to her heart, and dramatically failed to achieve anything except show she couldn't be trusted. She sighed. "I'm tired, Jalux, and not answering your questions."

When she clambered out of the flit, her physical aches and pains had faded—maybe she shouldn't completely disregard the advantages of the nanobots? The psychological sting was slower to recede. The price demanded of her for his unwanted gift was disturbingly high.

After lunch, Nagavi gave another pep-talk and congratulated Red on her win that morning.

Red swelled with the praise and nodded.

"Never let the lack of size or apparent strength of your opponent deceive you," he continued. He didn't mention Kia and Jalux's late return.

The afternoon was an eye-opener for Kia. A separate facility accessed through the rear of the gym contained a row of simulator booths. Suppressing memories of the morning's disaster, she sat in a darkened booth, listening to Nagavi's voice loud on the comlink in her ear.

"Lord Rial's fleet comprises 100 ships each with 1,000 men aboard. These 10,000 men are under his direct command, and more men and ships are available if needed, for example, battlestar cruisers which carry 10,000 men. Twenty of these men are his Chenjerai who accompany him everywhere."

Kia wondered if she'd end up as a menial servant in the Heir's extensive entourage if she failed to enter the ranks of the elite guards. It would be a more comfortable life than the mines—providing she could stay under his radar while she devised a plan to eliminate him.

"I'm sorry if I'm boring you, Kia. Please feel free to withdraw from this program and return to where you came from anytime."

Nagavi's sarcasm hurt. He was well aware they wouldn't permit her to go home to Sestris, and who would want to revisit the hell of Jahanamu? Why keep making the same threat? It wasn't as if she was likely to forget her recent experiences. She swallowed the hard lump lodged in her chest—the losses she'd not yet grieved for, the humiliating remarks whenever she glanced left or right or anywhere they didn't approve of—and focused. She would show them. She would show them all.

"Lord Rial has his own flagship, smaller than a class two battleship, but with added weaponry, engine adjustments for speed, streamlined cabin space for his guards to have their own bunkrooms, a lounge for meetings etc., and carries four class ones. Lord Rial is an accomplished pilot. For those of you unfamiliar with the empire's fleet, class ones are small, highly maneuverable two-seater fighters designed for close combat. They're for landings, sorties, or defense of larger craft. They're known as GKCs, which stands for great killing capacity. We call them gokas. In this afternoon's simulation, you'll become familiar with the piloting and use of weaponry in these little beauties. Study the layout on your holoscreen. This is the control panel you will have in front of you when you fly a goka."

The one mechanical device Kia had driven was the family skeet, a simple solar-powered land vehicle. One day her father had taken her to an empty stretch of road outside Sestris, along with Jared in the back seat. He'd put her in the driving seat, started the vehicle in automatic, then switched to manual override, and told her to drive. She'd driven the skeet down the black ribbon of a road for over half an hour with the vast flat red desert stretching either side under a pale yellow white sun in a bright lavender sky. At ten years old, she'd been proud of her achievement and forgotten her father's instruction not to tell her mother. She blinked away a tear. Her memories were precious gems to take out and polish in private. Days were for adjusting to this new life, and however difficult it was, Jahanamu had been far worse.

Kia didn't enjoy the next hour. Cheydii ended up standing by her shoulder giving her step-by-step instructions until she could keep the spacecraft going in a straight line. In contrast, she needed no help during the following session when the candidates progressed through a series of simulated attacks, using the gokas's weapons to defend the ship. Although it took a short while to familiarize herself with the weapon control system, once she had the hang of it, she didn't stop until the holoscreen displayed an explosion with a neon yellow flashing sign that proclaimed 'Congratulations! You've won!'

When Nagavi announced the results of the afternoon's exercise, Kia wasn't the worst pilot, though she was in the lower third, and she achieved the highest number of hits in the weapons practice by twice anyone else's score.

"I wouldn't mind having you as my partner when we use the battle simulators," Red told her on their way out after Nagavi had dismissed them for the day. Red had achieved the highest score as a pilot. "We'd make a great team. They could call us red and gold."

"Battle simulations?" Kia queried.

"They're actual gokas, but fitted up with holovids that simulate past battles. I've heard they're real fun."

"Fun?"

"Yeah, imagine blasting that superior smug look off Tamaiko's face with one of those zappy things."

"If you mean hitting him with a sonar vaporizer, that appeals. What do you mean by gold? I get the red reference, but my hair's white."

Red raised an eyebrow. "Have you looked in the mirror lately? Listen, do you have comunits where you're from?"

"My planet isn't that uncivilized." Kia tried not to sound indignant or offended. She touched her hair. She hadn't seen herself in a mirror for... since that day in Sestris. Slaves in the mines had no need of them, and there were none in the barracks. The reflection she'd caught of herself in the gym window hadn't shown her hair color.

"C'mon then let's go before the others get there. You can send a message to your folks."

Before Kia could answer, Tamaiko elbowed her out of the way.

"How is Lord Rial's little pet today?" He tossed the remark over his shoulder as he strode past them out of the gymnasium.

What was he talking about? Lord Rial's pet? She'd kill them all starting with Tamaiko and finishing with the Heir himself. She squished any embers of resentment for the latter. Imagining the tall arrogant blond as a tiny insect, she mushed him into the ground with her big boots. "I'd love to be your gunner," she informed Red.

"Great, that a deal, and don't worry about him," Red said dismissively, "he's taking his frustration at today's low scores out on you. Nagavi heard him saying the same thing yesterday and said if he made that remark again, he'd sew his mouth shut and send him home."

Although Tamaiko had been near the top in the pilot category, Red was superior. His score as a gunner had been half Kia's.

"Just because Lord Rial saw my... that... episode yesterday, it doesn't make me his pet." Kia's voice rose.

"Shh," Red hushed her. "Agreed. It's not because the Heir saw what happened, it's because he rushed over, picked you up and carried you to the hospital himself. Nagavi tried to take you off him, but he was having none of it."

"Oh." The new experience in the simulations this afternoon had driven everything else from her mind, but after Red's words, the morning's disastrous episode reared its dismal head. Why hadn't he let her die in the cave-in? Instead, everywhere she turned, there he was.

# Chapter 10: Action and Reaction

Red grabbed Kia's flight suit out of her hand and thrust her own at Kia. "Here, we're swapping suits. No one will notice the name tags. This is our ultimate battle simulation session, the Finals are the day after tomorrow, and I've got a plan to boost our finishing score."

Kia's eyes narrowed.

"Look, we're on track for the highest score this week. You even beat Ingen the previous time we were here. We're of similar height and build, though you are leaner, and it won't show under these overalls."

"You're willing to cheat?"

"I wouldn't call it cheating. It's being inventive, creative, and bending the rules shows initiative. I'm proving that I'll do anything to be a Chenjerai. Besides, you're very competitive, and don't pretend you're not 'cause I been watching you all week—"

"Everyone's been watching every breath everyone else has taken this week. I swear there isn't a move any of us can make but somebody hasn't anticipated it."

"But you want it bad."

"Sure, but are you willing to risk Nagavi finding out?"

Red shrugged. "Even if he does, he likes you."

Kia snorted.

Red leaned in and whispered. "If we succeed, do you think the Heir will sleep with either of us?"

"What?" Kia gaped at her friend as if she'd grown horns. "What are you talking about?" An image of the Heir's face, straining to halt the force field as it attempted to drive its way through her body, jumped into her mind. She banished it.

"Well, he can't marry without the emperor's permission, and it's rumored he usually has a consort or two, although he hasn't chosen a partner since his previous consort died in that mining accident. It's alleged that was an attempt on his life. You didn't know?"

Kia ignored the comment about the mines. Her plan was to get close to the Heir, but not that close. That would make things far too complicated and messy. She pulled on Red's flight suit to hide the heat in her cheeks. "Not about the consort bit."

"Did they find you in a religious community? You know, one of those cut off from the universe?"

"I lived in a normal city with normal people. At least—" She let the sentence die. At least until the empire's soldiers arrived, but she wasn't ready to share her past with anyone not even Red.

The pair had become close during the recent three and a half weeks of training and tests where a regular schedule had kept the candidates busy. Morning lectures included everything from learning how to detect and counteract various poisons to etiquette at state banquets. Afterward came physical drills, martial arts, marathon runs, and team contests leaving afternoons for weapons practice, both real and simulated.

After her hapless beginning, Kia had thrown herself into learning everything Nagavi taught. Despite preparing for a position within Rial's personal guards, she pushed him out of her thoughts most of the time and rarely saw him except for the occasional brief visits he made to observe their progress. To Kia's relief, he never stayed long.

Three quick siren blasts notified them it was time to board.

Red handed Kia her helmet, winked, and put her own on.

Kia followed Red out into the vast hangar where two gokas hung suspended in the air.

"Has a force field ever failed?" Kia whispered as they walked along the gangway to the cockpit and gunner's positions. When in space, access was from inside the spacecraft to pods where the gokas sat prepared for takeoff, but here a gangway wide enough to reach both sections had been erected.

"Not that I'm aware of," Red replied, nodding to the two helmeted candidates approaching the other ship. "That's our boy," she said to Kia. "That strut of his is recognizable. Well, we are going to bring him down today."

As if he'd heard, Tamaiko gave them a nod.

"Who's his partner?" Red asked.

"That's Keji. He's got the widest shoulders. They're a good pairing."

"We're still gonna beat them."

Kia couldn't see Red's face, but was sure her friend sported an ear to ear victory grin.

Once in position, Kia flicked the weapons check button and watched the control panel for the kinetic kill rods, aka KKRs, pulse lasers, and the particle beam light up one after another. She smiled, a predatory look in her eye as the rival vessel came up on the vidscreen. Besides defeating the others in hand-to-hand combat, whether with a blade or any combination of the martial arts Nagavi had introduced them to, she got a real kick out of shooting down her competitors. Once she'd acknowledged the nanobots contribution to the improved speed of her reactions, she took full advantage of the enhancements. At least here, she was in control.

"Pilot to gunner, all systems ready?" Red tried to sound authoritarian—the pilot was the senior officer—but her delight in the thrill of battle leaked through. Communications between a pilot and the gunner activated as soon as internal sensors registered their presence.

"Gunner to pilot, all systems are ready."

"Kill zone here we come." Red's laugh was infectious and Kia breathed deep, pacifying her skittish mind, preparing for the battle ahead.

The hangar vanished, and the vastness of the cosmos surrounded her. The booth simulators were good for honing responses to attack, but they didn't compare with this experience. Stars, tiny twinkling dots of light, spread across the darkness as if a wealthy householder had tossed a handful of glows to illuminate a garden. The gokas's vibrations were subtle and amplified the simulation. They would increase according to the speed and missiles she chose.

A shiver ran through Kia as the ship announced, "Enemy vessel approaching."

"Boosting shields," Red responded, "and taking evasive action. Fire at your discretion, gunner."

Hearing the pilot's official order for the shooter to take down their opponent, Kia glanced at Tamaiko's craft, registering on her screen as an approaching small silver sliver. She shook her hands out and checked the blinking lights that indicated her weapons were ready to fire. Yes, she was all set to go.

Once the gunner had locked onto a position, the shields dropped when the gunner pressed the fire button. When the defense system detected an incoming missile, the shields remained in place until the ship had shifted its position and was no longer in danger. The pilot's job was to maneuver out of danger, while the gunner kept their opponent engaged, enabling them to slip into the kill zone. Most simulated battles were remarkably brief.

Nagavi had warned them that even this simulation was far from the real thing. The chance of fighting an adversary of equal size and weaponry was unlikely. Gokas were hit-and-run fighter ships, and a more powerful weapon from a larger spaceship could take them out if they weren't fast enough.

Kia forgot everything except taking down the small fighter closing in on them. Red slewed their craft to the side and flew at full speed toward Tamaiko's ship. Kia took a chance and fired the pulse laser, aiming to hit the cockpit, but Tamaiko raised his shields and rolled his vessel, her pulse laser beam missing them by a fraction. As Red took them through a series of feints, rolls, dives, and left and right evasive shifts, Kia sighted, aimed, and fired repeatedly. Her favorites were the kinetic kill rods, especially when fired in disperse mode. The slender missiles streaked through space and peppered the enemy, allowing a pilot to conceal the next move.

After the first rush of attacks, both vessels retreated as their crews assessed the damage. Although Tamaiko would have routed them if Kia had been piloting, he and Red were equal and neither had the advantage.

"How's the weapons stock?" Red sounded breathy.

"Low on KKRs, but if you can get us into position for a frontal attack, I can use the laser to take him out."

"Okay." Red accelerated fast. "Going straight in for the kill shot."

"Ready." Kia aimed the pulse laser. She could feel Tamaiko's disbelief and panic as they hurtled toward him.

"Entering the kill zone," Kia murmured, bringing her hand down fast and firing the particle beam. No matter what move he tried, he'd wouldn't be fast enough to evade the beam. Victory would be sweet. She smiled, eyeing her vidscreen for the instant she vaporized her opponent, but instead, she heard a sharp crack and a short gasp from Red, then darkness.

"Red?" No answer. "Red?" Kia spoke louder, tightly controlling the panic waiting to rise. That gasp was horribly familiar. When the people of Sestris had stood in silence and watched their Electorate slaughtered, the crowd had uttered a gasp of horror. She'd heard it twice more while in the mines. Once an emaciated man working nearby had given a similar gasp and keeled over stone dead. In the refectory a few days later, another man sitting opposite her had sighed and slumped forward into his soup. The woman next to him had lifted his head, grabbed his plate and let his head thump to the table again.

A nanosec later, the siren emitted a single continuous wail, the simulated intergalactic background vanished, and the hangar reappeared. Kia could see several technicians running across the floor below.

Every light on her control panel was dark. "Red, what's going on? Speak to me, are you okay?" She blew out a breath and pressed the emergency button on the entry panel. Nothing. The simulation had crashed. Swinging her chair around, she raised her feet and rammed her boots against the panel. I hope it's not that easy to open in space, flashed through her mind, as she scrambled out. Ignoring Tamaiko's horrified face staring at her from his cockpit, she was at Red's door kicking it open. "Red?"

Red's body sagged sideways. Her eyes, sightless and empty of life, were open. A small hole gaped in the middle of her forehead, and she lay unmoving as a thin line of blood trickled from the corner of her mouth across the smooth curve of her cheek, and a dark cherry stain grew on the collar of her flight suit.

Kia put her fingers to Red's neck. No pulse. She kneeled and lifted her friend's head, cradling it against her chest, as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Kia!" Nagavi gripped her shoulder. "Stand down and move away."

A great howl rose in her gut, coursed up through her belly and chest, and she felt the first flickers of a familiar pain at the base of her skull, but this time, she shoved the anguish behind the same wall as the rest of her grief and misery. She would not end up in restraints in the hospital again. That lesson she'd learned well. Tenderly releasing her friend, she did as Nagavi ordered.

"Please exit your stations. Please exit your stations," the tannoy announced as several medics ran along the gangway toward them. Tamaiko and Keji stood on their gangway, their eyes wide and questioning.

"You three," Nagavi raised his voice, instructing all of them. "Wait in my office." Turning to Kia, he added, "that's an order. Go."

Before the empire's soldiers had arrived on Sestris, Kia would have stood her ground, querying why. Even her srilao teacher had occasionally lost his temper with her constant need to understand the reason why she had to do something. They hadn't broken her—but she was learning the hard lesson of submission.

She met Tamaiko and Keji outside the hangar.

"Is Red okay?" Tamaiko asked as they trooped along the corridor to Nagavi's office.

Kia didn't answer. She couldn't. It's all my fault. It's all my fault. Like a little ditty that children sang in a game, the chant choked her mind as she replayed the image of Red's limp body and the blank surprised expression on her face.

Kia paced back and forward in front of Nagavi's desk. _My fault. My fault. My fault,_ she berated herself, the words cutting into and opening wounds she thought had begun to heal _._ If she'd never agreed to Red's madcap scheme, her friend would still be alive—though it would be her own corpse lying in the morgue. With her personal goal always paramount, she'd thrown herself into learning everything Nagavi taught and ignored the deeper implications of being trained as a killer. Philosophical discussions about the moral consequences of any actions they might take in the future hadn't been on the syllabus. Or maybe she didn't want to consider them? She wondered how many lives Nagavi had taken in his career. She only wanted to end one.

Tamaiko stood by the window, while Keji sat, tense and upright on the chair facing the desk. Conversation had been non-existent.

When Nagavi opened the door, Kia held her breath.

"Mejara Lianghao, Red to you, has passed over into the next world," he announced, his voice flat. "I'm sorry."

"What happened?" It was Tamaiko who asked.

"An investigation is in progress."

"Can I see her?" Kia had seen a lot of death this year. In Sestris, at the mines.

"Not until we have the results of the autopsy. This is a lesson you're learning early. If you join any military branch of the empire's forces, and especially if you join the Chenjerai, you will lose comrades who've fought by your side, and whose friendship you value." He betrayed no emotion, but, without doubt, he was speaking from experience. "You're relieved from duty for the afternoon, but tomorrow is the last day of training, and I expect to see you there, trying with every ounce of determination you've got. Another lesson, war doesn't stop for anyone or anything."

Lying on her bunk later, Kia gazed at the tree outside the window, watching the day fade into twilight. She'd returned to the room where they slept, refusing Keji and Tamaiko's offer of company, and an offer to escort her to the dining room. Jalux had asked if she was okay, but she hadn't answered. She didn't want to speak to anyone. All she wanted to do was relive the all too fleeting memories she had of the bright, cheerful young woman who'd freely offered her friendship, who had taken her place in the simulator and died instead of her.

# Chapter 11: The Finals

Lord Rial moved the Finals back a day to give time for a commemoration ceremony where they would pay tribute to Red.

Despite several requests, Nagavi had refused to let Kia see Red's body as she'd wanted to say goodbye privately. "No special privileges here," he'd said. "Look, I understand you pair struck up a friendship, and I asked, but I don't have the power to counteract Lord Rial's instructions."

She'd looked at him, schooling her features into the bland expression she was learning to wear and thanked him for trying. The feelings of slaves weren't a consideration that counted for anything. She cried into her pillow that night.

The following morning, the candidates, somber and wearing crisp gray dress uniforms, gathered for a special ceremony to honor Red. Lord Rial, Nagavi, Annen, Cheydii, and the Chenjerai were all present, their green dress uniforms decorated with medals of various kinds.

A row of parallel sunbeams striped the hall, bathing it in bright sunshine. Red lay in an elaborate coffin, clothed in a Chenjerai uniform, and looking as if she were taking a nap. There wasn't a mark on her face to show what had killed her, and any results from the investigation hadn't been made public.

"Although Mejara Lianghao did not become one of my elite guards, she was one of the ablest nominees we have seen in a long while." Lord Rial's deep mellow voice, tinged with regret, filled the hall. "If she had lived and fulfilled her potential, she had every chance of being selected. Therefore, I have awarded her family the same distinctions as if she had been picked. Candidates, let us hear your words of praise for Mejara Lianghao whose star was extinguished too early."

Nagavi began followed by his lieutenants and Red's fellow contestants.

Many related an experience with Red or spoke of her talents as a fighter and pilot, but Kia's feelings for her friend were private, and she didn't want to share them. She'd lain awake late into the night pondering what to say after Nagavi informed them of the ceremony. Red had been the first person she felt safe enough to forge a real connection with in a long time, and their friendship had been warm and genuine. When Kia spoke her voice was firm, her emotions tightly controlled. "Red was my friend, and I shall miss her," was all she said.

As they walked to the dining hall for the feast in Red's honor, she heard a few people muttering that rewarding Red's family as if she'd joined the Chenjerai was unheard of and would grant them unexpected wealth and prestige. Red's body would be cremated, as was the custom among her people, and her ashes sent to her family.

Lord Rial sat at the head of the gleaming pale wood table with Nagavi at his right. The Chenjerai and the candidates sat on opposite sides.

Kia sat as far from the Heir as possible but found herself unable to stop glancing at him. He'd given orders she wasn't to see Red's body, but yet had done something unheard of to respect her memory. Guilt because she should have died instead of Red warred with gratefulness to the Heir for his treatment of her friend. He confused her, and when the feast ended, she escaped, relieved to avoid his attention.

Like most of the group, she spent the afternoon in the gymnasium, but unlike the others, she stayed away from the simulators—the memory of Red was still too raw, and instead she worked on perfecting her sword moves.

As she went to sleep that night, she meditated on the challenge facing her. To exact her revenge, she had to join the Heir's elite guards, and that meant succeeding in the coming trials. The Chenjerai lived and traveled with the Heir, guarding him day and night. But how was she going to do that if she kept avoiding him? More to the point, why did he make her feel uncomfortable? What was it about the weight of his intent toward her that bothered her? She drifted off to sleep, questioning if she should sabotage her own efforts tomorrow, then wondering what the consequences would be because she'd never fool Nagavi.

She needn't have worried. When she woke the next morning her mind was clear. The possibility of throwing away what was her best chance of avenging her family's deaths was something she couldn't live with. _Always try your best_ , one wizened srilao mentor had instructed. _Even if you fail to achieve your ambition, you'll be closer than if you never tried at all, and in the trying, who knows what will change._ As Lord Rial said, she had to adjust to her situation.

The Finals were held in the Chenjerai training and practice arena and took place in the mornings; afternoons were for fine-tuning drills and preparation for the subsequent day's examinations. Lord Rial attended each session along with his sixteen elite guards who, Nagavi informed them, would also have a say in the decision about who joined their ranks.

After breakfast, where she was too wound up to eat, Kia stood to attention with her fellow contenders in the center of a large indoor gymnasium at the Heir's palace. A small balcony for Lord Rial and the Chenjerai to oversee the contests was at one end of the arena, and as soon as the Heir arrived the trials would start.

Tremors of anticipation flicked through Kia's body. She no longer looked emaciated, having regained the weight she'd lost in the mines, thanks to the nutritious food provided during the training. The constant workouts had extended her abilities and restored the satisfaction she'd always experienced in pushing herself to the limit.

Every day several entrants would be eliminated, and by day five, six would remain. The four destined for the Chenjerai would come from these six. Plus, they'd learned, on the transport to the palace, that on day six of the trials, the Heir would grant one of the new guards the honor of dueling with him. Although the Heir practiced daily, a display of his skill was rare.

"Not that any of you have the tiniest chance in hell of defeating him, but this is a mark of respect rarely offered," Nagavi told them. He'd killed too many sons of ambitious aristocratic families and visiting dignitaries over the years that the Emperor had forbidden any more challenges. Or perhaps he was fearful that his enemies would train their sons as assassins and thus eliminate his heir.

Kia kept her eyes down, going over her strategies and sending an honor-bound prayer of thankfulness to her former teachers. Preparation, preparation, and more preparation they'd drilled into her. She stood a little straighter as the doors opened and a sudden rustle of tension rippled through the room.

Eight of the Chenjerai marched in—without their helmets—followed by Lord Rial, and the second group of eight who closed the doors behind them. All wore their plain unadorned olive green uniforms, the Heir's gold insignia, the only difference, glinting on his chest.

The contestants bowed.

"Commander Nagavi, are the candidates ready for testing?" The Heir's level tone gave no indication that this was a life-changing event for the aspiring young men and women.

"Yes, Your Highness, if not, they'll be going home sooner than expected."

Smiles and snorts of laughter came from the Chenjerai.

"Let the trials begin," the Heir announced, as he and his guards spread themselves along the gallery while Nagavi ordered simulation screens set up.

The opening test assessed their speed and accuracy with firearms. Ten contestants stepped forward and took three shots before moving aside for the second group of nine. The challenge started with handguns, before progressing to a variety of larger weapons that included crossbows, knives of different lengths and even primitive spears—to be a Chenjerai meant expertise with whatever was to hand.

Kia refused to allow herself to be distracted. The task in front of her was what mattered. Nothing else.

When the assessment finished, Kia was elated. She hadn't missed once—every single shot had hit the center of the target—a perfect score. Without the nanobots your result wouldn't be anywhere near that good, a little voice in her head whispered. Without the nanobots I wouldn't be here at all, she responded, shutting the conversation down. The skills from her former life, combined with the new training, confirmed what she felt deep down in her bones, making it to the ranks of the elite guards would give her the chance for revenge.

On Emankora, modern weapons of warfare had replaced srilao, its status falling to a sport practiced by those who needed the physical outlet that hand-to-hand contests offered, but its original purpose was combat.

After surviving Jahanamu, developing the skills srilao had given her and learning new ones gave her days a purpose. During the past weeks she'd controlled herself, resisting the urge to advertise her abilities, but this week there'd be no holding back, not when achieving the next step in her plan was so close.

At the end of the morning, the contenders waited in a jittery line as Nagavi named Chatar, a quiet blonde girl and Keji as disqualified. The latter was a surprise as his ratings as a pilot were up with the best, All the eliminated candidates would remain until the end of the trials.

On the second day, the remaining seventeen traveled to a nearby forest on a team assessment known as kill or capture. Nagavi named Tamaiko and Jalux as leaders. Chatar and Keji sat with the Heir and the Chenjerai watching the exercise on a large vidscreen in the gymnasium.

Kia acknowledged that as much as she disliked Tamaiko's superior smug attitude, she was happier to be on his team rather than Jalux's. Despite Jalux's team having an extra person, the rejected candidates were from his team. She didn't feel sorry for them. They were from privileged backgrounds and would return to their privileged lives. She was glad she hadn't made many friends.

Day three, thirteen contenders, flight simulation tests.

As on the first day, a simulation screen was erected, and the Heir, his elite guards, and those out of the competition watched from above.

Kia was in the opening set sitting the piloting test. She'd done her best to overcome the emotions that arose when she was in a cockpit. Knowing this was to be today's challenge, yesterday afternoon she'd gone to the simulator booths at the rear of the barrack's gym for a practice session, but choked up when she kept seeing Red's face, the line of blood running across her cheek. Her gut knotted and she ran out, barely making it to the bathroom before she vomited up the first-rate lunch the Heir had provided. She hadn't returned. Today's task would be difficult.

She sat in the simulator seat, aware of the Heir staring down at them, watching and judging. She blew out a breath of frustration at having two obstacles to disturb her focus.

"Check," Nagavi directed them.

Kia's instant response, to her relief, calmed her skittish nerves. Her piloting results reached the level of competence she'd attained in recent practices and saved her from plummeting to the bottom of the ratings. By the time it was her turn for the gunner's trial she was in control again, her mind fixed on the task. When the results were announced, she was surprised to receive a standing ovation from the balcony for her perfect score, and when Nagavi insisted, she gave an embarrassed bow. Although Kia remained in the top four, her pilot's result dropped her from joint first to fourth.

More contestants were eliminated, and it was no surprise to anyone that Tamaiko was still top of the overall rankings.

Day four, ten contestants, free-form martial arts.

Nagavi gave the remaining candidates small cards and told them to write their names and place the cards in a silver bowl. He passed the bowl to a waiting guard who took it up to Lord Rial.

With a glance at the Chenjerai, whose eyes lit up, and a smile at the remaining contestants that would melt the snow off a mountain, Lord Rial mixed the cards and called the names in pairs. This test would eliminate the weaker fighters until the two strongest remained.

None of the disqualified combatants would have offered Kia any trouble, and she wasn't concerned with those left in the competition. She realized, as did Nagavi and most likely the Heir, too, that the ultimate contest would be between her and Tamaiko, although every recent bout with Tamaiko ended in a draw, and she hadn't defeated him. On the positive side, apart from their original fight, he'd never yet beaten her, either.

Five bouts later, as she'd expected, Kia faced Tamaiko inside the fighting circle and blocked out everything but her opponent.

# Chapter 12: Pyrrhic Victory

Kia didn't feel tired, in fact, she felt intoxicated as the humming in her blood grew stronger. She focused on Tamaiko's relaxed stance, the same one that had fooled her on their first fight, but which she'd learned was one of his standard deceptions, cross-feints being another. In addition to being an exceptional fighter, he had what Nagavi called a cerebral style, always thinking ahead, planning the next move, and using taunts and jibes to unbalance his opponent. He'd won the first bout they'd fought and never failed to throw his favorite provocation of 'little pet' at her. He had stopped using the Heir's name, but they were both aware that if it wasn't for Nagavi's threat to sew his mouth up and make him walk home, he'd have used it liberally.

"Check," ordered Nagavi. "This bout is timed and points will be awarded. Lord Rial has declared this a no-holds-barred bout."

This was a surprise. Kia's srilao training had been directed toward sports competitions, and she wondered how much of a street fighter Tamaiko was. She breathed in, sensing and calming the sudden nervy pitter-patter of her heartbeat. Extending her perception throughout her body, she tensed and relaxed each anxious muscle, and the panicky sensation faded as a cold icy calm descended. She opened her eyes and met Tamaiko's gaze. With a slight lift of an eyebrow, she smiled. She would enjoy this.

If her attitude bothered him, he didn't show it, and at Nagavi's signal, they turned and bowed to Lord Rial.

"Begin."

Kia leaped halfway across the circle before Nagavi finished speaking. Her right leg struck Tamaiko in the chest and she landed in a crouch.

He staggered, falling flat on his back half out of the circle, his mouth open in shocked surprise.

She sprung toward him, intending to grab his ankle, but he'd flipped over, rolled inside the circle, and regained his feet. "Is the little pet looking to impress her master?" he sneered, his voice low as they circled, each searching for an opening.

In Emankora, srilao was an honorable sport, where reading an opponent's body language to anticipate and counter their next move was part of the skill set. Fights were performed in silence as insults were regarded as a less intelligent aid to winning. Kia had, for the most part, resisted the urge to retort, except when she was off balance or anxious. Recently she'd begun insulting him back, and on one occasion he'd completely lost his temper, and Nagavi had dragged him out of the fight, refusing to let him continue.

She did want to impress the Heir, her master as Tamaiko bluntly put it. Nothing mattered more than getting close to him, but not for the reasons Tamaiko thought. His left side was his weakest, so she danced toward him, feinted right, and jabbed him fast in his ribs on the opposite side, sliding away. "Oh, is mummy's boy upset she didn't come to see her little darling?" She watched his eyes narrow and his lips thin. Good. She didn't care why, but mocking his mother was his weak spot. They circled again, arms out groping, hands splayed, fingers bent ready to grab, breathing a little quicker, hearts beating faster.

He bounced toward her, fists clenched, threw a kick to the side of her head, missed as she dodged low and punched him hard in the same spot as her previous strike. Taking the hit, he made a quick grab for her wrists before she could slide out of reach. He hooked his leg behind hers and she was falling, but before he could drop on top of her, she'd twisted her hands around, gripped his wrists, pulled on his arms, and her legs were up and locked around his waist. As he fell forward, still aiming to pin her down, she whipped her right leg through his opened legs and rammed it upward, slamming it into his chin. His head jerked up, his grip loosened, and she slipped out of the hold.

Leaping to her feet, she didn't waste her opportunity and came in fast on his left side, jumped with her right leg cocked and stomped the side of his left knee. He fell, his face twisted in pain and anger as he realized she was scoring more points. She dropped on his chest, breathing hard, her knee pressing on his throat. But she'd known he wouldn't give in easily. He had height and weight on his side, and when he shoved himself upward, she couldn't keep him down. His arms came up, and he grabbed her tight, pinning her arms and rolling her over and underneath him.

A red mist rose at the edge of her vision. She would not let him beat her this time. Bucking upward and thrusting with her right hip, she rolled him onto his back, this time ramming her elbow into his neck, and punching quick and fast, ignoring the harsh rattling in his throat as he worked to suck in air. One, two, three, she kept pounding a savage knuckle-bruising rhythm on his face, neck, anywhere she could strike, taking no notice of the snapping crunch of bone cracking under her brutal punches. Thirteen, fourteen—

A pair of iron bars trapped her arms, yanking her up and away from Tamaiko who rolled over, mewling small animal noises.

She kicked backward, her heel connecting with a shin bone.

A hissed "ow" and Nagavi's voice in her ear. "Stop, Kia, you've won." He let her go.

She stood with her head bowed, gasping in lungfuls of air as Nagavi raised her right arm.

Turning her toward the balcony he announced, "Kia O'Afon is the winner."

"Well done, Kia." The Heir's voice cut through the clapping.

Kia stared at the floor.

"Look at him and bow or I'll break your neck myself," Nagavi hissed.

She did as he ordered, fixing her gaze on the small gold insignia glinting on the Heir's uniform. She couldn't look him in the eye because she didn't want him to see how ashamed she was.

There was fādāi, the trancelike state achieved by srilao masters, where it was said they could anticipate every move their opponent would make; there was also fènnù. Fènnù was a loss of control to the fighter's rage.

Yes, she'd won against Tamaiko, and wasn't that what mattered? But shame flushed through her as she acknowledged the humiliation of losing a greater battle against herself.

Day five, six candidates, sword fighting.

After yesterday morning's trial had ended, she'd gone straight to the dormitory. Everyone else was at lunch, laying bets on who would make the ranks of the Chenjerai. Jalux brought her supper, and when she didn't answer his inquiries, he put the tray on the floor. After his footsteps had faded, she ate the food and fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

Kia stood with the remaining four men and two women, waiting for the Heir's arrival. She'd fought and defeated them all during their training. She was more familiar with Jalux and Tamaiko, but the other four, like her, had kept their distance from everyone else. After all, what was the point in making relationships until they found out their situation was permanent? This morning she was calm, too calm. Everything was distanced as if a layer of glass separated her from her surroundings. She had no feelings because if she had feelings, she would hurt. She'd experienced this disconnectedness from the world in the mines when the brutality of life became too difficult to bear.

Up on the balcony, the thirteen rejected candidates stood to attention as Lord Rial and his escort entered, then settled down to view the concluding contest. Whoever won today would have the greatest chance of being chosen by the Heir to fight with him. Like yesterday, names were placed in the silver bowl and randomly selected by Lord Rial.

Today, unlike yesterday, Kia fought her duels with controlled precision. Her senses, heightened by the days of competition, alerted her to each twitch of her opponents' muscles, and she was there, advancing, fading, blocking, parrying, retreating, and hardly breaking a sweat.

Tamaiko, fresh from an overnight stay in a cell rejuvenation unit at the hospital, seemed wary of her. As did the others. It was as if the quiet foreigner they'd known had revealed herself to be a feral beast.

Kia didn't care. She was too close to being picked, and whatever happened, she'd never see most of them again. Jalux had improved the most since he'd arrived, but she still defeated him with ease, and when the duels ended and Nagavi declared her the winner, it was no surprise to anyone.

Lord Rial thanked those eliminated and those who still had a chance for their efforts. He, Nagavi, and the Chenjerai would discuss and make their choices. They were to assemble in the palace arena tomorrow morning for his decision.

Kia walked into the recreation room. She'd slept all afternoon, joined the others for the evening meal and was finally unwinding and feeling her body was her own again. A small group sat around a table playing cards, while Tamaiko lounged in a corner playing an archaic looking stringed wooden instrument with surprising expertise. Despite her earlier sentiments about the group, she thought of them with affection. Tomorrow all their fates would change. She had little in common with them, yet they'd shared hardships and victories, worked with and against each other, and had struggled together toward the same goal.

She strolled over to where Jalux relaxed in a large easy chair and plopped down in the chair opposite. They sat silent for a while watching the evening sun lengthen the deep gold shadows across the room.

"I would bet my right arm you'll be one of those chosen," Jalux said.

"You're left handed, it wouldn't stop you killing anyone," she pointed out.

"You are coming out to celebrate tomorrow night, aren't you? It's Djem's Festival of Masks."

"Celebration?"

"Oh, come on. You must have heard of the famous party at the end of the Finals?"

"No, and I'm not sure I want to either."

"The Chenjerai take everyone into Djem for a night of grand entertainment. The finest restaurants, clubs, dancing, you name it, they'll provide it."

"I have nothing to wear."

"You sound like every woman in the universe. Speak to Hanen, she's about your size, though she's shorter." He paused, his eyes looking her up and down. "And she might have a dress that'll show off your great legs."

"Jalux! Who are you? If you don't shut up, I'll cut your legs off, and then we'll discover who looks good dancing."

Jalux threw his head back and laughed. The card playing group looked up and smiled. There was nothing more anyone could do except relax and wait as their fates were decided. Even those who didn't join the Chenjerai would return home, and their communities would honor them. Irrespective of the outcome, making it as far as the trials bestowed its own glamor.

"Perhaps," she told him. Yes, she'd gone to dances in Sestris, but they were community and family celebrations. She didn't think night life at the center of the empire was quite the same.

"Celebrate for Red. She'd have dragged you out."

"That's a low blow."

"But it's true."

"I'll think about it."

"I'm taking that as a yes."

Kia yawned. "Take it how you want, I'm off to bed."

"Alone?"

"What is wrong with you?" She kicked him in the shins as she stood up. "What have you done with the real Jalux?"

"The trials are over, and those rules no longer apply. This is the real me, the dark curly-haired handsome brown-eyed young man your mother told you to watch out for, and I'd like to get to..." There must have been something in her face because he stopped. "I'm sorry, Kia."

The young man her mother told her to watch out for? Keyon was the sole admirer who'd put up with her passion for srilao and desire to become an Elector. Was he even alive? She snorted. That life was gone. "Well, for your information, the Kia that beat you at everything—"

"'Cept piloting."

"Okay, the Kia who beat you at everything except piloting—that is the real Kia." She kicked him again, harder this time. "See you in the morning."

# Chapter 13: Results

Kia was remarkably composed seeing as how her life for the foreseeable future was about to be decided. The problem of whether she could continue with her current scheme or would have to take a different tack to achieve her aims had receded from her thoughts, and she was relaxed. Of course, when the doors banged open and the Chenjerai entered, followed by Lord Rial, her serenity fled faster than a spacecraft into a wormhole.

Despite the lack of an audience, the ceremony was imbued with a solemn grimness. The new guards, along with their comrades would, in all likelihood, die in the service of the Heir.

The nineteen nervous shiny-faced candidates stood to attention, quivering with anticipation as the Heir strode in and came to a halt in front of them with the Chenjerai arranged in a semi-circle behind him. Nagavi had drilled them on how to respond—whether they failed or succeeded, and Kia kept going over both situations in her mind. If she didn't achieve her objective, doubtless Nagavi would collect her afterward and dispose of her, dropping her off like dirty laundry somewhere or other.

"Thank you, all of you, for your efforts during the Finals, your training period, as well as for the work you put in to get here. I promise you, your endeavors have not been in vain, and you and your family will reap the rewards throughout the rest of your lives." Lord Rial smiled, a genuine smile, his eyes moving along the line and making eye contact with everybody.

Kia kept the bland look on her face and ignored the shiver down her spine as her eyes met his.

"The time has come to name the four candidates who will join my elite guards. Will the six candidates still in the running step forward."

Nagavi had positioned the six of them in the middle of the line and they moved forward together, waiting with hearts beating fast and scarcely daring to breathe.

"I call Jalux Petturi."

Jalux took three steps, went down on his left knee in front of the Heir, and bowed his head.

Lord Rial placed his hand on Jalux's head. "Jalux Petturi, do you willingly dedicate your body to protecting me, devote your mind to my service, and surrender your heart to me for the rest of your life or until I release you from this vow?"

"Yes, my lord, I do." Jalux's voice was hushed and reverent.

"Rise, Jalux Petturi." Jalux rose, and the Heir kissed him first on one cheek and then on the other. "Welcome to the Chenjerai."

"My life is yours," Jalux swore the oath before joining the guards behind Lord Rial. When he turned around, his face was flushed, his eyes shone, and Kia could see how hard it was for him to contain his elation. Jalux hadn't scored in the top five, but his resourceful all-round competence and amiable character made him an asset to any team.

"Tamaiko Rodiny, step forward."

The same process was repeated with Tamaiko. His success wasn't a surprise, and he looked sedate and self-possessed as he joined Jalux.

A quiet dark man, Ohiko Kizon, became the third member. Ohiko had partnered Kia as pilot on a few of the goka simulation exercises, and she'd gotten on well with him. Although it might be more correct to say he hadn't irritated her as much as some of the others.

"And the last candidate."

Kia locked her knees. For the sake of the universe, spit it out, she thought. She did want this and had worked hard even if her motivations weren't the purest. If she failed, it would be one of the few instances in her life when she'd put in this much effort and not succeeded. She stared at the shine on his dark brown boots.

"Kia O'Afon, step forward."

She almost gasped in relief but managed to contain herself and kneel before the Heir. His hand, when it came, as he seemed determined to make her wait, was heavy, and she could feel his splayed fingers as they pressed on her scalp. As she uttered the vows, swearing her life away and sacrificing every part of herself in service to him, something inside her cracked. When she stood, and he kissed her cheeks, a flush of heat ran through her, and she could still feel the burn where his lips had pressed against her skin as she moved away from him to join the ranks of the Chenjerai.

"The rest of you will return home tomorrow, and I am grateful for your willingness to serve the empire. Tonight, though," Lord Rial grinned, "the Chenjerai will be your hosts and shower you with honors."

Everyone beamed, and Kia realized he was referring to the celebration Jalux had mentioned.

"Nagavi, please announce my dueling partner."

Ah, an opportunity approaches. Kia understood the impossibility of killing Lord Rial if he called her name, but she would enjoy the chance to attack him, without ending up screaming in agony. She held her breath.

"Lord Rial will take on all four of his new guards in a swordfight. Blades are of your choice."

The candidates gave a collective gasp while the Chenjarani grinned. Clearly, the Heir had performed this exhibition before.

"Jalux, Tamaiko, Ohiko, and Kia, this way." Nagavi's voice broke the state of mental vacuity that had momentarily struck them witless.

The newly selected guards marched after their trainer, practically levitating with exhilaration, as he led them into a large well-equipped armory off the gym hall. They stopped short, bemused by the sight of row upon row of arms from the latest versions of modern hand weapons to walls filled with a dazzling array of different swords on racks.

"Wow!" Jalux's mouth hung open. "I've died and gone to Ipharadesi."

"Choose," Nagavi ordered.

Kia surveyed the collection, noting the slight sheen of well cared for blades. She ran her finger along the edge of a cutlass. Honed to perfection. She eyed the thin red line on her finger and sucked the blood away, knowing the nanobots would heal the cut before the match began.

Four against one. Srilao legends spoke of men who could simultaneously fight and defeat many opponents. A gudari was a master who could fight one-on-one; an omkulu-gudari could defeat up to ten men. A maha-omkulu-gudari could take on a hundred men and win.

Today, she'd find out if those tales had any truth in them.

"That weapon would suit you."

She jumped, startled at Nagavi's silent approach. The man was uncanny in the way he moved. She studied the slim, light-weight curve of burnished metal ending in an ebony hilt he pointed out. Her face lit up. "Yes, that looks... good." Good was a hugely inadequate description for the exquisite looking weapon, but for once, she was at a loss for words.

Nagavi lifted it down, grasped the sword at the base of the hilt, held it upright with the edge toward himself, and offered it for her inspection in a surprisingly respectful manner. If she hadn't known better, she'd have sworn it was her own saber from Sestris. Testing the point of balance, she was satisfied it was light enough for any quick movement and solid enough for any cut or thrust she might want to make.

"This," Nagavi touched the control implant at the base of her skull, "has been deactivated and will be removed before you officially start your duties. When you go out there, what you have to decide is do you want to live or die?"

She'd become accustomed to the tiny hard disc under her skin and most of the time no longer remembered its presence. On the rare occasion she did, it was because she was making the mental adjustment of switching her irritation, anger, or rage from her preferred target to Nagavi or whoever was her opponent or closest. The device had achieved its purpose of teaching her to control and contain her murderous fury. At present that same animus lay cloaked and passive.

Nagavi was warning her that if she followed through on any homicidal scheme, it wouldn't be Lord Rial's lifeblood staining the floor.

She nodded. "Message understood." As Nagavi turned away, she murmured, "and thank you."

He didn't acknowledge her gratitude, but a slight turn of the head said he'd heard. Before they left the weapons room, Nagavi attached small guards to the tips of the blades.

What a shame, Kia thought. She had hoped to slice him up a little.

Tamaiko had also chosen a saber, longer and heavier than hers to suit his height and reach. Ohiko had picked out an elegant but lethal looking rapier while Jalux had a broadsword as he liked the extra weight and had the strength to wield it.

"What's our strategy?" Ohiko asked in a low voice as they exited the armory behind Nagavi.

"Position ourselves at the compass points. Don't get too close to each other, encircle him, and keep moving. Don't stop long enough to let him engage," Kia answered. "He must have the latest implants, therefore make it in and out as fast as you can. Then let the next person take him on, and that way we might have a chance of wearing him down."

Tamaiko looked at her as if she were a talking rock. "I'm not having a go at you, but you know nothing about the Heir, do you? It's common knowledge he hates and won't abide any implants in himself or his elites. But I like your idea."

Kia sighed. Tamaiko was right. She'd grown up learning nothing about the Heir, even less about his father, and hated her experiences with their empire. Sestris had been a free planet, and she hadn't needed such information. She did know how to use a blade though. She sucked in a deep breath; this was an opportunity to show Lord Rial what she was capable of.

The others grunted their agreement to the tactic and took up their positions with a casual ease as if working in a team like this was a regular occurrence.

The Chenjerai and the unsuccessful candidates watched from the balcony, and a great cheer arose as Lord Rial strode into the arena. He'd changed out of his uniform, wore a pair of loose flowing black pants, and a black sleeveless tunic—nothing to restrain or hamper his movements. The rapier in his right hand looked heavier and longer than normal and was most likely made to his individual specifications. He held a broadsword in his left hand. If the extra speed and strength the nanobots gave her were anything to judge by, even with four of them against him, they'd be lucky to see him break a sweat.

Nagavi, along with Annen and Cheydii would referee the contest.

The Heir stopped by Nagavi. "Is this what happens when you free a bird from its cage?" He indicated their arrangement.

Kia perked up.

Nagavi gave a short grunt, and Lord Rial marched past her into the center of their circle.

_Shh, little bird_. Yes, she remembered. She gritted her teeth. She'd show him who was a little bird, then she choked back a laugh, realizing he'd used the simplest of techniques to unbalance her.

"Standard contest rules: no gouging, or hitting, or scratching. Are you ready?"

The new guards copied Lord Rial as he bowed to Nagavi, turned and made another deeper bow to the audience.

Whoops, cheers, and enthusiastic clapping filled the hall.

As Kia's heart pounded a nervous rhythm in her chest, she glanced up at the watching audience.

Most were alight with glee at the prospect of seeing their Lord defeat the newbies, and she recognized the quick whispered conversations of people placing bets, probably on how soon the bout would end. She did a short check. All that remained was to give herself over to the flow of action that combat demanded.

"Begin," Nagavi barked.

Kia closed her mind against the urge to admire him as he rolled his shoulders back and shook himself, loosening up before raising his weapons. Tall, golden skinned with a perfect physique, all he'd have to do was give that tantalizing smile and... She kept an eye on his feet and scarcely caught the slight rise onto the balls of his feet as he moved, too fast, toward Ohiko.

In the space of a single inhalation, Kia saw Lord Rial slip his rapier under the hapless man's rim guard, roll his arm, flick Ohiko's blade out of his grip, and send it clattering to the floor.

"I surrender," Ohiko said, bowing out.

Kia moved sideways, watching as Rial swung his blades in slow lazy loops while his gaze scanned the three of them, aware he was deciding who he wanted to remove from the fight. "Circle," she hissed, irritated he thought that little of them he had paused to calculate his next move.

Jalux and Tamaiko, stunned by their comrade's swift elimination, shuffled into action.

Kia blurred forward, attacking him on the left, as Jalux, jettisoning the plan, simultaneously moved in on Rial's right. The Heir spun around, his swords moving carelessly as he parried and deflected their thrusts and cuts with a slight smile. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Tamaiko's movement.

The Heir raised an eyebrow as she retreated and laughed, a low mellow sound that cut through the shuffle of their feet and the increasing gasps of their breathing, when Tamaiko slid in and took her place.

As the Heir appeared to have his attention on the other two, Jalux lunged, bringing his broadsword down, aiming to smack Lord Rial's arm with the flat of his blade and dislodge his sword.

The Heir flowed backward, his smile widening as Jalux missed. He copied Jalux's strike and brought his broadsword down hard and quick, catching Jalux's knuckles.

Steel clanged onto the floor, again.

The audience breathed out a simultaneous "aah."

"I surrender," Jalux bowed and retreated.

Two down and two to go.

Lord Rial shuffled to the side, keeping both his adversaries in sight and his blades moving.

This was not heading anywhere near the conclusion Kia had hoped for. They were making no impact at all, and instead of wearing him down, her tactic was proving useless.

He lifted his chin and smirked at her—a definite 'Is this all you can manage? Come on, let's see what you've really got' look.

Kia glanced at Lord Rial's other side, then at Tamaiko. He blinked an acknowledgement.

Kia attacked; wild sweeping cuts that had him shuffling backward, her gaze shifting between his body and his feet to check which way he'd move. Then she was backing up fast as, still keeping Tamaiko in sight, Rial stalked toward her, his arm out straight and his wider longer blade knocking hers sideways every time she lunged at him.

Tamaiko rushed the Heir on his left, while Kia continued her attack on the right, and it seemed that for the blink of an eyelid, they had him on the defensive. Then, moving with a speed she wouldn't have believed possible if she hadn't seen it, he was behind Tamaiko with one arm tight around his throat, while the other held his blade tip to his captive's ribs. Tamaiko dropped his weapon.

Lord Rial released Tamaiko, who declared his surrender, retrieved his saber and stood to the side.

Before the Heir turned around, Kia flew at him, kicking him hard on the side of his knee. He went down. At any other time, she'd have laughed at the utter disbelief on his face. "He didn't mention kicking," she said, but he was up again in a flash, and knocking her saber aside with his broadsword.

"You think I have an advantage with two swords?" he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he threw the broadsword aside and moved toward her.

She backed off, spun around and ran at him again, but he brought his rapier down in a cut. She threw herself to her knees and slid underneath his weapon's curving arc. Throwing away her shorter lighter saber, she picked up the broadsword he'd dropped, and was on her feet swinging the blade with two hands.

"I see," he said, his feet shushing across the floor as they circled. As they passed the spot where her discarded saber lay, he dropped his rapier and, without missing a step, picked up her sword. He eyed her with amusement. "Ah, we come to the heart of the matter. Is this equal enough for you?"

Kia didn't answer. He was playing with her and she would not give him the satisfaction of a response, but she wasn't going down without a fight either. She didn't wait, but swung the bigger sword, pushed forward, cut, thrust, swung, turned, spun, and each time watched as her heavier blade slid off the saber as he deflected her attack.

Then he came at her, quick and hard, his blade whipping, blurring through the air. He was unbelievably swift and agile, pushing her backward until she was barely holding him off. Increasing his speed, he rushed her, his sword a flurry of silver flashes, forcing her to shuffle back so fast, she stumbled and fell. One minute she was giving him as good as she got, and the next she was lying on her back, the tip of her own blade pressing against the base of her throat.

"Do you submit to me, Kia O'Afon?" He regarded her coldly, no longer amused.

She remembered another promise he'd demanded of her. _Say it,_ he'd commanded. His tone had the same insistence. He wouldn't stop until she said it out loud though why she had to submit and everyone else surrender was a moot point as she considered the proximity of the sword tip to her jugular. She looked up at him, couldn't hold his intense gaze and closed her eyes. "I submit, Lord Rial."

When she looked up, he was smiling, and he'd extended his hand to her. She reached out and let him pull her to her feet. That, she thought, isn't a smile, that is a smug smirk.

He beckoned Ohiko, Jalux, and Tamaiko forward to join them, and amid riotous roars, clapping, and whistles from the spectators, they bowed together to the audience.

# Chapter 14: The Festival of Masks

After the Heir swept out, followed by his guards, Kia stood with Jalux, Tamaiko, and Ohiko accepting the back slaps, handshakes, and congratulations from the other candidates. Some were genuine, others weren't, but all, to a greater or lesser extent, were laced with the inevitable envy of people seeing others gain what they desired.

"Quiet!" bellowed Nagavi.

After a month of training, their response was instant.

Nagavi smiled. "Life has to go on. Those returning home, go and pack. Early tomorrow morning, you'll leave for Djem's spaceport and be on your way. Jalux, Tamaiko, and Ohiko pack up your stuff, Annen will take you to your new quarters. Kia, go with Cheydii. Candidates, for the last time, you are dismissed."

Kia sighed as the group dispersed, and she stood to the side waiting for Cheydii. Nagavi hadn't told her to pack and move her things because she possessed nothing, but a few well-worn gray training jumpsuits which she no longer needed. His words were a reminder of her real status. Unlike the rest of the candidates, she was property, to be picked up and put down wherever her master decreed. She assumed they would provide her with whatever she needed to perform her duties as a Chenjerai. A glimmer of satisfaction at her success in being chosen eased the vacuum that the new change of circumstances brought. She had to admit, she'd adapted to the routine training had provided and even enjoyed it. Freedom from the hardships on Jahanamu had allowed her to adjust to the change of circumstances, and although Nagavi's derision, if she didn't perform to his standard, had been cutting at times, it bore no comparison to her previous situation.

"Come on, Kia. You are about to experience a little luxury." Cheydii smiled. "You deserve it."

Kia's brain was awhirl as she followed Cheydii out of the arena, through a side door and into the Heir's palace. She had to make a conscious effort to keep her mouth closed as they walked through a series of ever wider and more elegantly decorated passages where the walls were painted in vibrant shades of red interspersed with paintings of exquisite woodland scenes and portraits of men and women from a previous era in carved golden frames.

By the time they reached the top of a wide pale marble staircase, Kia's mind was a kaleidoscope of impressions. Yes, she'd understood Lord Rial was a powerful person, but seeing the opulent surroundings made it real.

"Right-hand side houses Lord Rial's living quarters—and that means ours as well, plus our dining hall and leisure facilities." Cheydii waved over to the left. "That side is the military headquarters and that's where the various generals come to plan campaigns." She stopped and looked at Kia. "Listen, some things will be more difficult than others. The Emperor says what he wants, and Lord Rial is tasked with executing his wishes." She walked along the right-hand passageway, opening the first door after Lord Rial's suite.

"It hasn't sunk in yet." Kia's brain was awhirl as she followed Cheydii into the room and rubbed her eyes. She stood in a spacious room decorated in pale lemon. Large windows offered a view over beautiful gardens, and she stared at the small gold-brocaded couch, polished desk and chair with her mouth open. All this was hers? Her bedroom in the home she'd grown up in had been tiny, with scarcely enough space for a bed and a small cupboard for her clothes.

"Bedroom is though there," Cheydii pointed at the farthest of two doors, "and the other is your bathroom."

The crack in Kia's heart widened, and she wanted to cry. Her expression must have given away her feelings because Cheydii wrapped her arms around her and hugged her.

"You can't forget everything, but don't dwell in the past. You're alive and healthy, and you have a purpose. In case you've forgotten that detail, you swore a binding oath to protect and serve the Heir, and that's what you have to focus on."

"Of course." Kia tried to imbue her response with enthusiasm, but her ghosts were crowding close.

Cheydii softened. "I can tell you from experience if you throw your heart into it, things do become easier. Oh, and tomorrow night, we escort Lord Rial to the emperor's palace for a dinner with some visiting dignitaries, and you'll meet the Emperor Teyrn himself."

"Wh... what?" Kia shook her head. She supposed she'd get accustomed to moving in these elevated circles, but she still hadn't adjusted to the most recent developments in her life.

"He meets with all his son's new guards when they're first chosen. Don't worry, he checks you over, mumbles a few words, you bow and that's it. But you have to get through tonight first."

Cheydii took her along to the study room where she, Tamaiko, Jalux and Ohiko were introduced to the nine men and seven women who made up the Chenjerai. Shaba, a tall thin woman with a pale flawless complexion, who wore her hair in a tightly plaited top-knot, offered her a dress for the evening's festivities.

Back in her suite, viewing herself in the full-length mirror in the bedroom was another shock. Between her sojourn in the mines and the rigorous recent training, she was leaner, her muscles more defined, but what shocked her most was her hair. Growing out since Jahanamu, her hair fell in soft curls around her face, but instead of the pure white it had always been, it was pale gold. She peered closer. Before, her skin tone had been darker, now it was paler and closer to his. The breath whooshed out of her, and she flopped down on the bed because her legs wouldn't hold her up. A thousand curses on Lord Rial and his nanobots. It couldn't be anything else. The enhanced physical responses she accepted, because she liked the benefits. But this was different, harder. Curse him, curse him, curse him.

Later on, she stood in front of the mirror—after the longest shower she could remember taking—and twirled around, watching the beads on her skirt sparkle and catch the light as the material flared. Not that she would describe the garment as a skirt. The myriad thin pieces of white heavily decorated silky strips were sewn onto a wide gold belt and fell to her ankles. She gazed at her slender curves, her eyes heavily outlined in black, and her pale gold curls slicked into a sleek helmet. She thought of her mother. What wouldn't she give for her mother to see her? She sighed and pushed the thoughts away, something she was becoming more adept at doing these days.

Underneath the shimmering cloth, she wore a white sleeveless close-fitting unitard. She fastened the gold collar of the top around her neck, smoothed the narrow strips of beaded material, and studied the result. If she stood still, the effect was of a sleeveless loose tunic over an ankle-length skirt, but when she moved, the beaded material shone and glistened, separating to reveal the undergarment. She was half scared, half thrilled. She'd worn nothing like this before; Sestris was a conservative city and, even in the port district, didn't possess night life like Djem.

"Kia!"

Nagavi? "Ready," she called, collected the gold and white mask, and moved toward the door, the skirt swirling around her legs.

Nagavi examined her from top to toe. "Don't you scrub up well. You ready?"

A srilao saying sprang to mind. _When in doubt, act with confidence. No one can read your mind._ "Always."

"This way, then."

Nagavi was accompanying them, that was a surprise _. "Keep your wits about you, girl,"_ her mother had said whenever she set off for a srilao contest. I'll try, Mama, she told the image in her mind. He might be the oldest of the Heir's close associates, she thought as she followed him, but you'd never guess it by watching him move. Except for the two guards who stood outside the Heir's quarters, the corridor was empty. Where were the others? Maybe they were waiting downstairs?

Nagavi nodded to the guards, opened the double doors to Lord Rial's quarters, and gestured for her to enter.

"Wha—"

"It's rude to keep your master waiting."

His hand on her back was firm as he gave her a push, and then she was inside, the way out closed behind her.

She tried to calm herself. Whatever this is about, he wasn't about to hurt her. He'd had numerous chances to do that. He could have killed her this morning if he'd wished, and nobody would have protested.

Lord Rial appeared at the other end of the hallway and strode toward her.

Sucking in a deep breath, she ignored the herd of wild animals trampling through her innards and adopted her new bland expression. She hadn't expected the opportunity to kill him appearing this soon and thoughts of what she could use for a weapon caromed around her skittish mind.

"I won't delay you for long, Kia." He took her arm.

As if I have a choice, she thought, as he guided her into a room on the right. If he hadn't had hold of her, she would have stopped to take it all in. The living space, decorated in pale green, was twice the size of her entire quarters with a floor to ceiling window and possessed the same view of the garden she enjoyed.

"What am I doing here?" She tried for confident, but she was off balance and the words came out small and anxious. She refrained from a full scale attempt to wrench herself away from him because... well, that would create a ridiculous scene—and she'd learned it was easier for her if he thought he was in control and dismissed the fleeting thought he was in control.

"Have a seat."

A gentle push and she was sinking into a plush emerald green couch.

He sat down, leaving a reasonable distance between them, glanced out at the garden, then his gaze returned to her, raking her outfit. A slight quirking up of the lips and his eyes creased, then he became serious.

"Kia, are you planning to disappear in Djem tonight?"

Was he ever going to forget that day? "It was different before. Now I'm one of your elite guards," she sat up straighter, "and I made a vow to you, Lord Rial."

"Among ourselves, it's Rial. Are you aware my father's guards wear special implants that allow him to adjust the level of control. For those who have a skill he needs, and who need encouragement, these implants can give him total control."

She swallowed. He was threatening her, not so subtly informing her if she didn't behave, this is what she could expect. She cursed Oloran, Jahanamu, the empire, the emperor, and it felt great to curse Rial without repercussions. "I keep my promises, too."

"Look at me and tell me that I can trust you."

She blew out a short breath and met his gaze, hoping he couldn't detect her anxiety. "You can trust me, Lord Rial."

"Rial."

"Rial," she repeated, though she was distinctly uncomfortable addressing the next ruler of the Nadil-Kuradi Empire by his first name.

"Good."

She allowed herself to relax a fraction.

"If you're still sober when you come home, drop in and see me, I have a gift for you."

Home? She wasn't sure that's what she'd call his palace, and what could he possibly have for her? She'd make sure she was drunk, and she was not dropping in for a late night visit. Her cheeks flushed with heat and she looked away.

"Off you go, then."

Doing her best to hide the relief at being dismissed, she was halfway across the room when he spoke.

"Be careful tonight, Kia. The Festival of Masks is notorious for many reasons, so do nothing to draw attention to yourself."

She nodded and exited as fast as she could without running.

Nagavi piloted the large flit bringing the Chenjerai and the unsuccessful candidates to the city, and Kia spent the time figuring out who was who among the exuberant group of elaborately costumed and coifed partygoers.

Ahead, the lights of Djem sparkled on the horizon. This was her first visit to the capital though she wasn't free to wander and explore as she might have done on Emankora when she'd visited other cities for contests. She leaned forward, a thrill of excitement running through her.

If Djem was the empire's crown, then the palace was the crown jewel, and as they approached, the curved white dome of the main palace shone with light. Here and there rainbows refracted off prisms set in the walls of illuminated buildings, and high-arched, pastel-hued, crystal walkways crisscrossed the city and flits and fliers of various sizes flew at different heights.

As they flew over the brilliantly lit city, Kia peered down at the walkways filled with slow moving dot-sized streams of people. "It's... it's beautiful."

"And dangerous." Shaba had adopted the role of big sister, and Kia welcomed the older woman's offer of friendship. She missed Red, but a srilao adage said relationships were like straws floating down the stream of life: sometimes together, sometimes apart, and the together could be brief or long-term. Red wouldn't have expected her to mourn for long. When you're training to kill others, you accept your journey into the next life might come sooner than you wished.

Competition for the vacant positions had tainted the relationships between the contenders, but that tense edginess didn't exist among these men and women whose bond had been forged over time. The camaraderie and affection were evident in the warmth with which they joked and teased each other.

Kia envied these skilled warriors their comradeship. A pang of regret shivered through her. She would never truly be one of them unless she gave up her desire to kill Rial.

"See, there." Shaba pointed out the window at a fountain whose elegant sprays constantly changed color in a fascinating display. "That's where we're headed. We've booked a private room at the most popular and most expensive nightclub in town."

Kia looked down at the large square filled with jostling people. Sorrow at the terrible events that had brought her here warred with the spirit of adventure that possessed her tonight. _Life passes far too quickly_ , her mother used to say, _be happy, and enjoy the moment while you can._ Thank you, Kia thought, but she didn't know if she was thanking her mother, the Goddess, or the universe.

Fifteen minutes later, Nagavi parked in a nearby flitport, donned a colorful black and orange striped animal mask, and the group strolled behind him through the packed noisy city.

Kia ogled the street performers who lined the walkways or staged their acts in the middle of the streets. Fascinated, she couldn't take her eyes off the array of gaudily dressed and masked musicians, story tellers, acrobats, and jugglers tossing flaming torches entertaining the crowds. The multicolored lights, the fragrant smells of incense mixed with the aromas from vendors hawking freshly cooked food, and the variety of masks and outfits—plain, colored, exotic, feathered, beribboned—was intoxicating. If Shaba wasn't holding her hand, she would have stopped to gawk at the spectacle.

"What does 'Chido Chemoya' mean?" Kia nodded at the gigantic illuminated flashing sign covering the wall of the building they were headed for.

"Heart's Desire," Shaba answered. "You can acquire anything you want here. Men, women, intoxicants, whatever it is, you can buy it here."

"And that's legal?"

"The word legal doesn't exist in Djem. If you have money, you can buy yourself out of anything."

"Oh." The glittering city shone a little less.

"Don't worry. Any Chenjerai caught doing anything illegal is out."

"And if they are doing something but don't get caught?" Wasn't that also a possibility?

"Nobody's stupid enough to think they can fool Lord Rial and Nagavi."

Okay, Shaba had a point. Although Kia would have been content to wander the streets openmouthed all night, Nagavi led them past the lengthy queue and the security guards straight inside the nightclub.

The scene that met her gaze as she entered the club, chased everything else out of her head.

Crammed with masked dancers moving to a loud throbbing beat under a vast holovid screen filled with abstract patterns that swirled and disoriented the brain, Kia's mouth hung open.

Shaba pulled her along behind the others as they skirted the writhing pulsating throng and stopped at a door marked 'Private' guarded by two intimidating, black-masked sentries.

After climbing a steep curved staircase, they entered a luxurious plasglass-windowed lounge. Soft piped melody replaced the deafening music, and deep couches and easy chairs provided an excellent view of the revelers. An extensive buffet lined the rear wall, along with a table laden with bottles and glasses. It wasn't long before the Chenjerai and their guests were chatting and joking, piling large plates high with refreshments, and helping themselves to drinks.

Jalux, wearing a big grin, handed Kia a glass of sparkling turquoise liquid. "It's from my planet, can you believe it?" His grin widened. "Wow! Kia, we made it. Here's to us."

Kia's people seldom drank alcohol, and srilao practitioners didn't touch intoxicants, but as she sipped her drink, she didn't have to be an expert to recognize the substance she was imbibing was potent.

"Drink up," he said, clinking her glass again and tossing back the rest of his drink.

Kia followed suit, immediately getting a head rush. I could get used to this, she thought, her head fizzing like the bubbles.

"Eat something." Shaba offered her a plate of appetizing tidbits. "If you hope to keep going through the night, you should eat as well as drink."

"Sure." She took a biscuit, nibbling at the soft crumbly square as she cast a longing glance at the people below. "Are we allowed to go down there?"

"What are you asking for?" Jalux interrupted. "You're not a slave who needs permission, you're a member of the Heir's personal elite guard. As a Chenjerai, you can do what you want."

I am a slave, and I might well need permission flicked through Kia's mind.

Shaba gave Jalux an odd look. "Sure, you can. Some of the guys are already in the gambling rooms. I'll show you both what entertainments are available if you'd like?"

Kia glanced over at Nagavi, but he stood facing away from her telling a story to a small group that had his audience in fits of laughter. "What I want to do is dance."

Jalux deftly removed her glass, put it next to his on a nearby table, and grabbed her hand.

Kia let him pull her toward the exit, checking with Shaba to see if she objected, but she nodded at the pair. "Have fun," she said.

"Come on." Jalux was twitching with pent-up energy. "Let's go."

Kia followed, pushing through the writhing dancers until he found a space for them. The thumping rhythm of the base beat was hypnotic, and Kia responded as muscle memories that had slept for a long while awakened.

A sparkling pink haze, dispensed from air vents in the ceiling, drifted down over the throng.

"Oohs" and "aahs" rose from the crowd, and Kia raised her hands like the other dancers, wriggling her fingers, watching the tiny glitters land on her skin and dissolve. Instantly the lights appeared brighter, the colors more vibrant and the sounds louder.

Kia closed her eyes and swayed to the music, losing herself as her body remembered. It was as if she'd never stopped dancing as each movement and gesture flowed into the next following familiar sequences. She had forgotten how liberating dance could be. She let everything fall away except the rhythm, the beat of the bass, the sense of losing herself, and the delight of responding to the music—she had missed this freedom. The tempo changed and a tinny soprano began warbling a love song. Kia opened her eyes, astounded at the circle of people who surrounded her clapping enthusiastically. Whereas once she'd have accepted an audience's appreciation with graceful thanks, these days the attention of this many people made her apprehensive.

"That was incredible," Jalux took her hand, "were you a professional dancer before?"

She shook him off as the crowd lost interest in her and began dancing again. "I need the bathroom."

"Wait," Jalux trailed behind her, but a scantily clad young woman grabbed him and draped herself over him like a parasitic plant around a tree.

Making it to the edge of the throng, she hoped nobody had been watching from upstairs—especially Nagavi. She checked the window, but couldn't see anything except a reflection of the shifting light display from the ceiling's vidscreen. She decided to rejoin Shaba and the others and find a restroom on the way. Halfway to her goal, she spotted the universal sign for a female washroom and joined the queue at the end of a long narrow corridor.

Listening to the young women in front of her discuss who they thought had the most unique mask and outfit, she realized how far from normal her existence had become. She'd lost everything that these women took for granted, family, home, and friends, but contrary to her expectations, life was improving. She stifled a laugh, imagining the women's disbelief if she told them she was one of Lord Rial's Chenjerai.

The instant she emerged from the restroom into the empty passage and spotted two figures blocking the way into the club, her skin prickled.

Heavy footsteps coming toward her from behind had her turning to find a tall heavyweight man approaching. If he thought he could rob her, he was in for a surprise.

He wasn't wearing a mask, and his piggy eyes squinted at her, and his jowls quivered as he leered, his gaze moving from her face slowly down her body. "Hey, you're that gorgeous dancer everyone's talking about, aren't you? The blonde?"

That everyone's talking about? What had Rial said? _Do nothing to draw attention to yourself_.

"Oh, I think they'll be queueing up to bid for you."

She snorted. Well, as much as she could guarantee anything, she could guarantee the Heir wouldn't be selling. She turned to leave, but the thug grabbed her arm.

"Don't walk away, that's rude. Here, this is for you." Before she could shake him off, he slapped a small translucent patch on her wrist.

She half growled, the sound coming from low in her throat. This time she wasn't half asleep and exhausted, and no one would make her do anything she didn't want to. She whipped her leg up and kneed him as hard as she could in the groin.

His face twisted with pain, and he lurched forward.

She chopped him hard in the throat, then slammed his chin with her palm, snapping his head back. She stepped away as he dropped to the floor with a thump, but another man, taller and leaner, appeared out of the darkness. Her vision swam, and suddenly dizzy, she stumbled backward, hitting the wall as the drug coursed through her system.

"Hey, San," the man called, "get me another patch, quick. I'll kill Nelwyr with his faulty deals."

Kia moaned as an intense cramp twisted her innards. The sweet sour taste of bile filled her mouth, and she doubled over, vomiting over the man's shoes.

He stepped away, grunting with disgust.

The other two men hurried along the passageway as Kia puked again.

"Hey! Pick on someone your own size."

Kia recognized the voice and sagged with relief. None of her new skills included fighting while spewing up your guts.

The first man turned around, and the knife whistling through the air flew straight into his eyeball. He slumped to the floor. An instant later, the second man sprawled on his face, a dagger quivering between his shoulder blades.

Another bout of nausea convulsed Kia, and she retched again.

"Is she all right?" In no time at all, Nagavi had the third man trussed and terrified on the floor.

Kia never thought she would be so relieved to hear the senior officer's familiar voice. "Yes, I'm fine." She looked up to see more of the team striding toward them. _Thank the Goddess_. A wave of warmth toward her new companions swept over her. It was good to learn these people watched out for each other.

"Shaba, escort her to the bathroom. Tamaiko, tell the club security to call the authorities and collect this piece of trash and organize a clean-up. She made a real mess on the floor," Nagavi grumbled

"Sure, boss," Shaba responded.

After Kia finished throwing her guts up, Shaba wiped the gunk off her shoes. Her outfit was unsoiled, although more by accident than by intent. Ten minutes later, feeling miserable and embarrassed despite the incident not being her fault, they emerged into an antiseptic-smelling corridor free of dead bodies and vomit.

"I think your celebrating is over, young lady."

Her stomach was empty and her head was clear, though her legs felt wobbly, and she couldn't wait to sleep in her new bed. "Sure, boss," she mumbled, grateful Shaba still had hold of her arm keeping her upright.

# Chapter 15: Revelations

Kia woke on the gold-brocaded couch in her new quarters wearing the unitard and covered with a soft blanket. She'd passed out in the flit and had no memory of how she arrived in her quarters, but somebody, she assumed Shaba, had removed the beaded costume and settled her on the couch, though it wasn't long enough to be completely comfortable. The sleep had cleared her head, but her mouth and throat felt as if a Sestrian sandstorm had made an unexpected visit. Looking out of the window, she gazed at the moon, much larger than Emankora's, and remembered the evening's events. She sighed. No matter how hard she tried to stay out of trouble, somehow it always found her. Nagavi would have informed Lord Rial. At this rate, she would never get to do anything by herself, ever.

A cough drew her attention to the door in the corner by the window. She'd noticed it earlier and found it locked, but tonight it was wide open. She peered along the narrow dark corridor, knowing full well where the little passage led. Regrettably, she was without a weapon, and whatever plan she devised would have to be more subtle than rushing at him with a knife in the dark. Ignoring the sudden alarm blaring in her brain and the twisting of her guts, she couldn't resist tiptoeing along the corridor. She paused in the opened doorway at the other end.

Outlined in the moonlight, Lord Rial lay on his back on the couch, an arm thrown over his face as he slept. He seemed younger and vulnerable in sleep. He wore loose black pants, and his bare chest rose and fell with his soft breathing, revealing his sculpted muscles.

No, no, no. Whatever way he might interpret the situation—assassination or seduction—wouldn't be good for her. Where in the name of the Goddess had her common sense gone? She turned to flee.

"Kia?"

She stopped in her tracks. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have... it was... I—"

He clicked his fingers and a soft light bloomed. "Turn around."

Shoulders slumping, eyes down, she faced him, then looked up, irritated, as he laughed at her.

"Your face," he said. "Go in my bathroom and wash your face."

"I can do that in my... I'll leave—" She stopped speaking as he was beside her, his hand on her neck. She balked at he slid open the door to his bedroom, but the pressure of his fingers told her not to bother.

"Through there," he pushed her toward a second door.

She caught sight of herself in the mirror over the sink and snorted. What was left of the black make-up Shaba had artistically applied earlier was smudged in giant circles around her eyes. She could have been an actor in a horror show. She washed her face, inhaling the fresh scent of his cleanser, and felt petty doing it, but made sure she left plenty of black smears on his pristine white towels.

"Come and sit down." He patted the seat beside him. "I'm glad you're here, despite the hour, as I have two gifts and an apology for you. But first, let me get you a drink." He returned with two exquisite crystal goblets filled with an emerald green liquid, handing one to her. He touched his glass to hers. "Here's to the future." He sipped his drink.

Kia didn't want any more intoxication, but her throat begged for mercy. She copied his example, her taste buds exploding as the sweet liquid flowed smooth and easy as honey water over her tongue.

"Drink up," he said, clinking her glass once again and tossing back the rest.

"Are you trying to get me intoxicated?"

"Yes, but not for the reason you think."

She wasn't thinking of any reason, but the whole situation was bizarre. She'd been doing as she was ordered since the empire's soldiers first pointed a gun at her, so she obeyed and sipped a bit more. "What's this about an apology?" The alcohol emboldened her, but she kept her tone polite. Okay, she appreciated the unexpected chance to stab him with something—her gaze slid around the room checking for a weapon—but couldn't spot anything useful. She shivered, far too conscious she was alone with a man whose power frightened her.

"What did I warn you about before you left?"

His quiet tone had her cringing. Here he goes, she thought. "Not to draw attention to myself."

"Did you?"

She recognized the soft menace in his voice. "Not on purpose." She hated how defensive that sounded, but she hadn't asked anybody to watch her dance.

"I repeat, did you draw attention to yourself?"

The understated threat hovered in the air.

"Possibly," she snapped, her nerves getting the better of her.

"I hope the attempt to kidnap you wasn't a result of somebody seeing the comvid of your dancing."

"What comvid?" Could things get any worse?

"I had it deleted, but somebody relayed it live to the city's comnet. Last year, as far as we can estimate, slavers snatched over a thousand young men, women and children during the festival. I would have been disturbed to discover you had been among this year's disappearances. Retrieving you would be costly and time consuming. What was the name of the dance?"

"The Assassin's Seduction," she mumbled, surprised he'd recognized it as a srilao dance and knew they had names. He would have come after her. She felt a softening toward him but frowned at his gripe about the cost and time. "Can't the city authorities stop it?"

"They could, but the emperor allows it. Not officially, of course."

She peered at him in disbelief. "Why?"

"He tolerates the slavers for a few years, and when the citizens become too upset, he removes them, and basks in their gratefulness for having such a strong and benevolent leader."

"That's..." She left the sentence unfinished. The emperor was his father.

"Twisted? Corrupt? Or we can settle for plain evil." He fell silent. "Keeping you alive hasn't been straightforward, Kia. Apart from saving you from certain death out in the forest, an attempt on your life killed a talented young woman, although you were the target. You should have been piloting when the accident happened, shouldn't you? Regrettably, you appear to be the target of too much unwelcome attention."

Where had this come from? "Did you find out the cause of Red's—"

"Red was your friend, but her death was not your fault, Kia." He ignored her interruption, talked over her and didn't appear to notice she'd spoken. He walked over to a desk in the corner, opened a drawer and removed something. "Here," he said, "this is my first gift." Was he nervous? "Hold out your hand." He placed a heavy object in her palm. "I believe this is yours."

She looked down, tears coming unbidden as she studied the golden srilao champion's medal, her medal, the one Nagavi had taken off her when he told her _I'll be seeing you before the year is out; until then, I'll take care of this._ "Thank you," she said clutching the medallion. She took a long pull of the sweet fiery liquid.

"Kia, does the name Jenèz mean anything to you?"

Jenèz? She stared at him as if he'd grown four heads, and once more her throat was a desert. She drained her goblet. Jenèz was the name her father had insisted she and Jared memorize, drilling it into them during the previous summer until she was saying it in her sleep. He'd made it very clear that if anyone used that name, they could trust that person. How did the Heir know that name? Was he trying to gain her trust with the medallion, thinking she would betray the resistance network—if anyone was still alive? But her father had told her nothing about the people he'd formed alliances with.

"My second gift is this." He returned to the desk, retrieving a small hand comunit from the drawer. "This is also for you." He tapped the screen and passed her the device.

Kia stared in disbelief at her brother's face looking up at her, his familiar smile, the shock of dark blond hair. He appeared healthy, but there were lines around his hazel eyes that hadn't been there when she last saw him.

"Kia, if you're watching this, then you've met Jenèz, and you're protected. Father and I worked with him over a long period. You can trust him, Kia. I can't imagine what our parents would have said if they'd learned you were hobnobbing with the highest ranks of the empire." A look of sorrow flickered across his face, but it vanished quickly. "Oh, did I mention Rial is Jenèz? Well, he is. Be safe, little sis. I love you." The screen went blank.

"In Sestris, Madaxa Xefe knew me as Jenèz, and you have no reason to trust what I say, Kia, but perhaps you'll believe your brother. I deeply regret that I failed to save your entire family."

Jared was alive and well. Her heart filled with hope. "Where is he?" She would crawl across hot coals if she had to. She would spend her days on her knees begging if that's what it took to be with her brother. "Can I see him?"

"Not at present. He's far from Xarunta. If we pass near the system where he is, I'll take you to visit him. I promised Madaxa I would keep his family secure, and to my lasting shame, the plans we worked on for many years, in the end, failed."

She crossed her arms and hugged herself. Breathe, she told herself, you'll live. This won't kill you. What was one more paradigm shift? "You're really Jenèz?" Her plans for revenge were falling apart, leaving her adrift—though maybe she should attribute the latter to the alcohol she'd consumed.

"I am. Which is why I sent Nagavi to prevent you ending up in the mines. The situation was difficult and I regret I was unable to rescue you the way I did Jared. There are many games played by the emperor and my enemies, and I couldn't reveal my hand in Sestris." He sat silent for a while, then smiled, a small rueful smile. "I told you I keep my promises."

Kia, too restless to sit, leaned against the window, staring out at the glowlamps creating pools of silver light in the garden. Her mind still reeled as she sought to reconcile the fact that her brother was alive, and that the Heir to the throne had worked with her father to foil the Emperor's plans for Emankora.

Rial refilled her goblet. "Would you care for something to eat?"

She shook her head. The liquor was enough to dull the trauma of his revelations. Her stomach couldn't handle food, too.

"There remains the issue of the nanobots in your blood." He took her elbow and led her over to the couch, sitting down close beside her.

"Oh, those things." Her skin prickled, a sure sign she wasn't going to like whatever he was about to say next.

"Cheydii informed you the new guards are presented to the emperor?"

She nodded.

"It is imperative he doesn't find out your immune system has accepted the nanobots. He has been searching for a way to make the nanobots adapt to his system as he believes they would grant him an extended lifespan, among other benefits. If he discovered they'd adapted to you, he would put you in a lab and take you apart. He'd impregnate you himself, or remove your womb and use it as an incubator, and the rest of you would be taken apart for research."

Kia stared at him horrified.

"Before and after I was born, he performed endless experiments on my mother. He wanted the advantages the nanobots bestowed but nothing worked. He kept conducting tests until he killed her. He is obsessed with gaining the power inherent in the nanobots. They are the reason the drugs didn't work on you tonight. The effects of poison and drugs are temporary, however your system will eject them—one way or another. " He waited a few minutes, letting the information sink in. "I do have a resolution to the problem, although you may not be happy about the circumstances you'll be placed in. You may even hate me for it, but it's the only solution I have."

"Can I have another glass of that green stuff before you tell me what it is?"

"Of course."

"Fill it to the top," she instructed.

"Tell me, how does a man woo a woman in your country?" he asked as he handed her the drink.

" _With soft eyes, sweet words and deeds, and a kind loving heart_ ," she replied impulsively, knocking back a healthy slug of the liquor. "It's a famous lovers' poem." It had been one of her mother's favorites.

He smiled briefly but became solemn as he continued. "I can't marry, except to someone my father decrees is suitable, and he hasn't yet found an alliance worth sacrificing me for, but I can bed who I wish. Such a woman is given the unofficial status of companion, and he and I have an agreement that she is forbidden to him. He's aware the consequences of breaking his promise in this matter would be serious."

She didn't want to hear anymore and glanced at the entrance to the passage with a dreadful, sinking feeling. Dear Goddess, let there be something else at the end of his confession other than where she feared this was heading. "Um, yes, I had heard." She remembered Red's jokes about sleeping with the Heir. She wished Red could have been here and tried to focus on what Rial was saying.

"The safest way to protect you is to officially make you my consort. He knows how you saved me, and that creates a plausible explanation for our alliance."

No, no, no. This wasn't happening. She was more intoxicated than she realized, or else the evening was getting really weird. "It must be the alcohol, but I'm hearing things. You didn't ask me to be your... your... whatever, did you?" She spluttered, spilling her wine and too alarmed to even say the word. "Because that would be insane. That's not what you asked, is it?"

"Yes and no. I did say it, but I didn't ask. To keep you safe, I shall formally make you my consort, whether you agree or not. How intimate or platonic our relationship will be is up to you."

Our relationship? What relationship? The atmosphere went from neutral, with the possibility of a warm front, to glacial in a blink. For a fleeting moment, he'd not been the enemy, but his words reminded her how unequal the relationship was between them.

"I won't force you to have sex with me..." he paused, his brow furrowing as if not knowing what to say next. "I have watched you since I brought you here, Kia, and you are a loyal and generous person. Even without the nanobots issue, your world is gone, you are alone and in need of a friend."

She stiffened. Her mind was fuzzy, her thoughts befuddled, and she hoped she wouldn't blurt out anything she'd regret, but this option hadn't been on the menu five minutes ago. "I'm satisfied to be a Chenjerai. I'm sure the protection you can give me as one of your guards fulfils your promise to my father, but I don't want more than that. It's a very kind offer, very thoughtful of you, and thank you for considering me. I'm honored, but no." To be tied that closely to him, even as a pretense for public show, was asking more than she could bear. She'd barely begun to have faith in people again. The burden of being the Heir's partner would be too much.

"I admit it has been years since the emperor commandeered any of my personal guards, but he has in the past, hence that alone doesn't ensure your safety from him." He brought her yet another full glass. "I'm disappointed you feel like that, Kia."

Getting intoxicated sounded like a brilliant idea, and she drank the entire contents in a long glug, her throat working energetically.

"As it happens, the decision isn't yours to make. Protecting you is my responsibility, and as I said before, I keep my promises. Besides, your courage has won a place in my heart. All it takes for you to be acknowledged as my consort is for you to sleep in my bed for one night."

She felt woozy. Did he say what she thought he'd said? He couldn't make her agree to this silly arrangement. She wouldn't allow it, and she struggled to sit up. She wanted to leave and go to her lovely new rooms, but her legs and feet were refusing to do what she required of them. Her head swam. Was he still talking? His mouth was moving and making noises though none of it made sense as her brain had turned to soup.

"Be still, little bird, I won't force myself on you, but in this, you have no choice. I regret this cannot be more pleasant for both of us, but nothing will harm you now."

Her eyelids closed. She willed them open, but they refused to respond. She was vaguely aware of Rial picking her up, carrying her into the bedroom and laying her down with a gentleness she wouldn't have believed he possessed.

THE END

# _Awakening Defiance_ is the second book in the _Saoirse Saga._ Read on for a preview of the first chapter.

### The Saoirse Saga

Episode Two

Awakening Defiance©

By

### Teagan Kearney

Chapter One: Changed Circumstances

The spray of cold water on her face shocked Kia into wakefulness. She blinked. Where was she? Her head was thick and groggy. She tried to sit up, but someone had poured a large bucket of wet sand inside her skull, and she fell back. The bed was soft, softer than any she could remember sleeping on. Someone dribbled a bitter substance into her mouth. "Ugh." She attempted to turn aside, to spit it out, and prevent more of the nasty stuff sliding down her throat, but the firm hand pressing on her forehead foiled her efforts.

She cracked her eyelids open, doing her best to limit the amount of bright sunlight making a full-frontal assault on her eyeballs, to find Lord Rial, the heir to the Nadil-Kuradi Empire, a few inches away.

His eyebrows drew together as he studied her.

Her fist flew, connected with his jaw, and he stumbled backward, the small bulb of whatever disgusting stuff he'd been trying to force her to drink splattering his uniform with dirty yellow streaks. "You drugged me!" She glared up at him, the drilling behind her eyes conspiring with a heavy lassitude in her limbs to make more movement impossible. "You're no different from those slavers."

He rubbed his jaw as he retrieved the container. "I'm protecting you, and they would have sold you to the highest bidder. I also know what substances the nanabots will and will not reject. This is an antidote to the sed I gave you, so drink it voluntarily or I'll force it down your throat, and if you keep trying to hit me I'll tie you up, and then make you drink it."

She cursed him, the effort of hitting him leaving her too weak to protest. Opening her mouth, she swallowed more of the disgusting liquid surprised it stayed in her stomach.

"Give it a minute and you'll feel fine." he said.

The thought she'd never feel fine again crossed her mind.

"What do you remember from last night?"

She pushed herself upright. What did she remember?

He had the grace to look guilty. "For your peace of mind, you should know I didn't take advantage of you. I slept on the couch in the other room. Yes, I did drug you, and I won't apologize, because otherwise you wouldn't have agreed to spend the night in my bed. You can hate me all you want, but you'll get over it. If my father gets hold of you, you'll experience far worse than a restful night's sleep in a comfortable bed."

He sounded almost annoyed that she would protest. "Says you, and it already has." She pushed down the swell of frustration at her helplessness. "You shouldn't have done that. You deceived me. What you did was dishonest, and I thought you were honorable."

"Enough arguing." Impatience with her crept in. "It's done. You have ten minutes to shower before you'll have to accompany me to breakfast, and I think you prefer to enter the dining hall alone. Afterward Nagavi will give you and the other new Chenjerai an introduction to your duties."

She put her hands over her ears, blocking him out. Her scheme to assassinate Rial had been progressing as she'd intended until the previous night. This morning she was living in a nightmare.

"I have plans, Kia, and I would like you to be part of them."

"What kind of plans?" That's right, he was Jenèz, her father's co-conspirator, and Jared, the brother she'd thought was dead, was safe. Her mood lifted. If Rial wasn't the enemy anymore, the Emperor Teyrn certainly was. "How much power do I have as your whatever you call it?" She still couldn't bring herself to say the word consort.

His eyes narrowed, and a sly playfulness crossed his face. "That depends on our personal relationship."

She tilted her head to the side and studied him. His brown-gold eyes twinkled at her and his mouth wore a teasing smile. He was strong with wide shoulders, narrow hips, his muscles toned, an excellent fighter, and without his usual severe expression, he was someone who would charm her... if she let him. If she became his partner, didn't that mean she would be cast off if his father chose a bride for him? She'd still be a member of the Chenjerai and would have to watch him join his life with someone who would bear his children. No, that wasn't a road she intended to walk, but she didn't think keeping him at a distance was going to be easy. Yet, if she could achieve the revenge she sought, she would have to consider what price she was prepared to pay.

Twelve minutes after a lamentably quick shower—since working as a slave in the mines of Jahanamu it didn't matter how long she spent in the shower, it was never enough—she sat on Rial's left, with Nagavi opposite her on his right, at the top of a long table in the dining hall. She munched on a thick slice of delicious toasted bread topped with a tangy green paste, her emotions veering from elation that her brother was alive to despondency at the latest predicament she found herself in.

"What's today's schedule?" Rial asked Nagavi.

"Your father requests you present yourself well before the banquet. Annen will organize transport. General Zakale is due shortly—and we'll be lucky if he's gone by lunch."

Kia kept her gaze down taking quick peeks at Rial and noticing how his mouth turned down just a fraction when Nagavi mentioned the Emperor. Tonight she'd find out firsthand the reality behind the name that filled the galaxy with dread. She glanced around the table, watching the men and women of the Chenjerai as they relaxed and chatted as they ate. She caught Jalux staring at her with an odd expression. When he realized she was looking at him, he looked away.

Just at that moment Rial dumped a generous dollop of colorful fried vegetables on her plate. "Try," he said, "it's a specialty of Djem."

He was feeding her in public! Was she three years old? Her cheeks flamed, and she stabbed the shiny red and green herb covered strips, shunting them around and imagining everyone at the table staring at her. She couldn't wait for breakfast to finish. It galled her no end that he'd taken no notice of her refusal last night, and this morning acted as if they were an intimate couple. She looked up and caught Nagavi eyeing the blooming bruise on Rial's jaw. He looked at her speculatively and winked.

That was it. She stood up, shoved her plate aside, and stamped out. The door slid shut behind her, depriving her of the opportunity to slam it. She pressed her forehead against the wall and heard Rial say, "No, leave her. She needs time. Protocol's not important."

She didn't wait to hear more but set off for the gymnasium where she intended to run circuits until her fevered brain cooled.

Nagavi, with Ohiko, Tamaiko and Jalux in tow, found her an hour later. Pushing herself hard and pounding around the hall until her muscles ached and sweat ran down her back eased the outrage and frustration, and she'd achieved a certain equilibrium. Not as much as she'd like, but she was moving forward on the premise that having slept in the Heir's bed, he would accept it was sufficient to protect her from whatever threats existed, and she would be polite but distant. Tonight she'd sleep in her new living quarters and shove the couch against the door to his rooms. That way she'd have a few minutes warning if he tried anything.

Kia trailed behind the others as they followed Nagavi along a corridor that ran the length of the building and out a door at the opposite end of the palace to the gymnasium. Her mind was stuck chasing the same objective—what did being Rial's so-called consort mean for her? When he wasn't in front of her dominating the space, her attention, and everything in sight, she could think. He'd taken her view of the world, broken it into pieces, and put it back together with all the parts in different places. If she gained his trust and became his confidante, she'd be in a position to influence him, and that was a goal worth aiming for. She sighed. From what she'd learned of Rial, he'd easily detect any deceptions on her part. Swearing her allegiance to him, protecting his life as part of his elite guards was one thing, but to open her heart to him, she didn't think she'd manage that. Having sex with him... she wasn't so sure she could handle that part.

Sestrian women had a number of lovers before they chose a life partner, and while Kia had had a couple of relationships, her experience, and her mother's advice, taught her that sex complicated matters. _Make you my consort whether you want it or not._ She'd done nothing to deserve such treatment. Goddess preserve her! The nanobots! Was this what it was really about? He'd said she was the only one whose blood hadn't rejected them. That must mean he or the emperor had experimented on other women? But she knew what the problem was. It wasn't the sex, or the fact he might want her to have dozens of nanobot babies, it was that Sestrian women chose their partners, and he'd taken that choice away from her. That was a much more difficult obstacle to overcome. She clung to the one piece of news cheering her up—Jared was alive. It had been beyond any stretch of her imagination to conceive that Rial was Jenèz, the man her father had worked with and trusted.

"Kia!"

The warm glow of elation at the thought of her brother disappeared. The others had stopped, and she'd gone traipsing on.

"I can't imagine what or who she's thinking of," Jalux muttered.

"What did you say?" She couldn't believe this sniping from Jalux. Hadn't their relationship had always been friendly? "What? Are you jealous he didn't choose you?"

Jalux's expression darkened.

"Don't pay him any attention," Tamaiko said in her ear.

Yet more unexpected changes. The one person she'd believed was sympathetic was turning against her, and the one who'd antagonized her the most was offering support. She was crossing a bottomless chasm on the thinnest of bridges, and it was disintegrating under her feet.

"Behave yourselves, or there'll be consequences." Nagavi's bark silenced them. "These are the medical facilities. Lord Rial runs a small hospital and emergency center for the people who work in the palace or on the estate and their families. They also patch us up when needed."

Oh, yes, the hospital. Another place she was more familiar with than she wanted to be.

Nagavi led them into a clean white reception area.

"Good morning, Commander. You can go straight through." A woman at the reception desk spoke briskly. "The doctors are ready for you."

"Thank you, Harreira."

After being measured, weighed, poked, and prodded by doctors, attendants, and various machines, Kia sat in a small separate room, as an aide shaved the area around the implant at the base of her skull.

The other three waited outside.

"They'll remove the implant you've got in your skull and another device goes in," Nagavi told her.

"Why do I have to have one at all?" Wasn't she controlled enough?

"You need this one. It's for coms and is keyed to your helmet so we can communicate when we're on public duty, and facilitates our abilities to protect Rial. You'll see this evening."

"Does it hurt?" She'd been unconscious when the control device had been implanted.

Nagavi grinned. "Tell me, how much pain can you stand?"

"What?"

"You have no sense of humor, do you? You should be used to teasing after the past month."

"I've got a lot on my mind."

"Snap out of it, Kia. You're a Chenjerai, and you have a job to do. That's all you should think about, and it's microscopic. You won't feel a thing."

She was certainly thinking about the man she'd promised to guard and protect with her life, but it wasn't in a benevolent way.

"That's it," said the medic.

Kia thinned her lips.

"What does that look mean?" he asked.

"Nothing." She'd like to have shown him what it meant, but she wasn't fast enough to beat him. Besides, he was her commanding officer, and she was supposed to obey his orders, and he was right, she had to snap out of it. Focusing on what Rial was doing to her was just getting her in a tighter and tighter knot. "Are we training today?"

"Yes, Everyone, except you four, is already in the gym. We'll join them when we're finished here. Wait in the reception. Tamaiko, get in here."

After the session at the hospital, Nagavi sent them to the gymnasium to join the other Chenjerai. Tamaiko and Jalux went straight to the armory, chose their weapons, and joined a sword practicing group, while Ohiko headed for the flight simulators in a side room.

Kia stood for a minute, feeling the tension in her gut lessen as she watched the guards train. Yes, some adrenaline fueled action was guaranteed to take her mind off her troubles.

Toinen, one of the older guards, was instructing a small group in wrestling techniques, and Kia decided this was exactly what she needed.

Toinen was broad, stocky, and heavy with rock-hard muscles. He'd demonstrate a hold, how to get out of it, then let them practice, making sure everybody changed partners frequently.

It took Kia a while to gain a sense of how the moves differed from srilao. As a beginner, she spent most of her time learning first defensive then offensive takedowns and spending far more time being tossed to the floor than she was accustomed to, but when midday came, her mind and her body were more at ease.

After lunch, when she was relieved Rial didn't join them, they were given the afternoon off, as they'd be on duty during the evening's visit to the emperor's palace.

Nagavi led her along the corridor to the library.

"The special treatment isn't going to help me," she told him as he sat her at a desk, and gave her a comunit. Tapping the screen, he brought up a list of names. "These are your fellow Chenjerai. Familiarize yourself with their background and special skills. This is information you, as the consort, are expected to know."

After Nagavi left, she spent five minutes staring out the window, fretting, trying to remember a life where she had choices, and finally Kia decided to learn what she could about her new companions. She picked Shaba first and saw the woman was so skilled with knives, she'd never been defeated in a knife fight either before or after she joined the Chenjerai. Kia was new to knifework as srilao was a hand-to-hand martial art depending on evasive and offensive movements, but it would be useful to improve her skills in that area, especially after Shaba's demonstration at the nightclub. When she was familiar with the faces and histories of the twelve men and seven other women who comprised the Chenjerai, she pulled up a map of the galaxy and located Emankora. Where could Jared be? If he'd escaped with Rial's help, he could be anywhere, but she would start by investigating suitable planets, maybe somewhere between her home planet and Xarunta. At least it was a start.

"You won't find him." Nagavi leaned over her and switched the comunit off. "And you should be aware, comunits are monitored by several intelligence agencies, especially the emperor's, who follow Rial's actions and those of his guards closely. If you plan to keep on having access to a comunit, don't go searching."

"He's my brother." She scowled at Nagavi.

"I know this is difficult—"

"Did you lose your family, then discover your brother is alive? What would you do in my place? Yes, sir. No, sir. Is that all I'm allowed to say? Don't I have any freedom at all?" She blew out a breath, her face reddening, and her eyes sparking in anger.

"Kia, we are your family, too. Rial will protect you, but don't expect him to be kind. He wasn't brought up with kindness. In fact, he spent the first three years of his life in a lab being prodded and tested. Few people know how he was born, but his mother was a geneticist from Falaichte, you won't have heard of it, but she was the lead scientist on a team that was developing a system of advanced nanobots to prevent defective genes being passed on. When the emperor learned about the project, he annexed the planet, and took his mother prisoner. It didn't take long for him to discover she was testing the nanobots on herself. After that, he erased the research laboratory and eliminated every scientist on her team, their associates and families, and half the planet to make sure nobody had any knowledge of what she'd discovered. A year later, Lord Rial was born, and his mother was dead."

That explained his fear of implants. "Why are you telling me this? Am I supposed to feel sorry for him?"

"Don't you have any empathy left for anyone else, lass, or is everything dead but self-interest and revenge?" He walked away.

She watched him leave brooding over the look of disappointment he'd given her. What did he expect of her? She shook her head. Miserable and slaving away in a mine, or miserable and rich and powerful? She snorted. No, she had no sympathy for him.

# FROM THE AUTHOR

Thank you very much for reading _Stars & Ashes_, Book One in the _Saoirse Saga._ If you enjoyed the story, let your friends know and please leave a review (long or short) as it is the best gift you can give a reader, and reviews help others decide if the book is one they'd like to read.

Sign up for my mailing list, and get your free copy of _Hekate's Chalice_ , Book One in the _Adept Solutions Series_ , and receive notice of new releases. Click here to get started: <https://bit.ly/2zGXGsS>

Books by Teagan Kearney:

The Kala Trilogy

Healer's Magic

Vampire's Bane

Demon's Nemesis

The Kala Trilogy Box Set

The Adept Solutions Series

Hekate's Chalice

Sorcerous Deeds

Ancestral Secrets

The Saoirse Saga

Stars & Ashes

Awakening Defiance

Veiled Planet

One Summer in Montmartre

Untender Lives

https://writingmynovelnoworkingtitleyet.blogspot.com

Twitter at: <https://twitter.com/@teagankearney>

Facebook: <https://www.facebook.com/TeaganKearneyWriter/>

Wattpad: <https://www.wattpad.com/teagankearney>

Drop by anytime.

