"Borro." Return.
Calista's strong, calm voice echoed in the empty training room.
Sweat running into her eyes despite the headband, Jae returned to ready position, alert, muscles tense, awaiting her instructor's next command.
"Sho." At ease.
Jae sighed. "Thank you, ma'am." She ran to the side wall of the gym, grabbed her water bottle and drained it. Then she walked slowly to the middle of the gym, knelt down and closed her eyes. She focused, forcing herself to breathe slowly and deeply, demanding that her shoulders not heave.
Meanwhile, Calista brought over a standing kicking target, a torso-sized kicking pad, and two handheld targets. She smacked the latter two together. "Okay, stand up!"
They drilled kicks for the next hour: jumping front, back, spinning hook... offense, defense, speed, accuracy. Another water break, then pushups, sit-ups, and crunches. Next, a sparring match, Jae's favorite. She enjoyed the challenge, she had to be completely focused. My reaction time's getting a lot better, she thought.
"Jae, quit curling around your roundhouse kicks! It hinders them, and besides you look like a little old lady." The instructor reprimanded her student in mid-kick. "Don't hunch over when you back up, either. Keep your upper body relaxed."
The student nodded wordlessly and continued.
Finally, stretching, cooling down, then Calista said:
"Charyot, kyung-ye." Attention, bow. "Sugo." Good job. "Hesan." Dismissed.
And training was over for the day.
"Good job." Calista's simple compliment and stiff nod were greatly appreciated, for neither was given very often. "I want you in here at least an hour every day working on your forms, especially Chil-jang."
Jae gave a brisk half-bow. "Yes, ma'am."
"We'll meet here after lunch tomorrow for saber practice," Calista continued. "Maybe I can round up a few more Presabers and do a session with all of you."
Another half-bow and firm "Yes, ma'am."
Calista poked her student in the general direction of the door. "Now, go enjoy a hot shower."
Jae grinned. "Yes, ma'am!"
As she stood under the stream of hot water, Jae let her mind wander - to her former street life with Fagin... to her new friends in the Brotherhood... to her training... to her brother Nicholas... he was ten years older than her, and she'd always held him in the highest respect. He was her first best friend, her idol. When she was little, he'd give her piggyback rides around the house, they'd jump on their parents' bed until they got caught... he taught her how to tie her shoes, how to skate, how to play hockey... and when she was being bullied in school, he'd comforted her, dried her tears, and started training her in Martial arts.
But no one was left without casualties of some sort when the Saurians had hit, and Jae was on the worse end. Hunter drones murdered her parents, captured Nicholas for the work camps, and stunned her, leaving her in the ruins of her home for dead. That's where Fagin had found her.
With a sigh, she turned off the water and reached for a towel. She was nine then. It had been five years, and she never found out what happened to Nicho.
several weeks later...
"DALI-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-IN!!!"
Jae pounded on the bathroom door in mid pee-dance, glad that everyone was at lunch and not here to witness this somewhat personal emergency.
"C'mon, Dalin, the Infirmary bathroom's locked and I can't find the Doc, WOULD YOU HURRY UP IN THERE??!!!"
Dalin's voice came slightly muffled through the door. "Sorry, amiga. I thought maybe I wouldn't be bothered here." A slight pause. "Obviously I was mistaken."
"YOU CAN'T HIDE IN THERE FOREVER!"
"Oh, amiga, yes I can!"
That did it. Whatever Dalin was doing in there, he apparently wasn't using the facilities. Facilities which she needed rather desperately. She backed up to the opposite wall, took a deep breath, and charged. A flying side kick knocked the door open - not locked after all, but barricaded. A couple of chairs clattered across the floor. Odd, she thought in the very back of her subconscious. She stood up, brushed herself off, and jerked her thumb towards the open door. "Out."
It was then that her brain registered the scene before her: Dalin, kneeling on the floor holding a plastic sack of loose, dried leaves. And it seemed she had caught him in the middle of flushing them down the toilet. Beside him on the floor were three more packages of the same stuff, and a small brown paper bag with white pills spilling out of it.
"Oh, duCaine..." she breathed.
"No, no, no!" Dalin quickly jumped up. "It's not what ye think! Please, lemme 'splain!"
Jae forced herself to take a calming breath. You're learning to not let your emotions control your actions, she reminded herself. She already knew better than to jump to conclusions, no matter what the situation. "Okay," her voice was not as calm or soothing as she had meant it to be. "I'll listen to your explanation but PLEASE let me use the toilet first."
"Aye, that is fine with me," Dalin bobbed his head. "...'Cept I believe I clogged this one up," he added under his breath.
So he was, she thought. And they're... no, no jumping to conclusions. She let out an exasperated groan. "I'll manage. Just move, pleeeeze."
She chased him into the hall, shut the door, and tended to her little emergency. Already feeling she could think much clearer, she opened the door for Dalin and washed her hands. When she finished she found him sitting on the floor, arms wrapped tightly around his knees. She knelt beside him.
"So," she said, much more gently than before, "you're going to explain this, right?" She gestured to the varied drugs lying in a haphazard pile.
Dalin took a shaky breath. "Yes."
He paused, wondering where to start. When Jae only waited patiently, he decided to plunge right in. "A few days ago I was tryin' to pickpocket a leetle, by myself, because I was going to do nothi' big, so I did not want to bother anyone to come with me." He flushed a slight pink under the feathers. "We'll just say... the Mandrake curse was with me, as usual. I took off a'runnin' through the crowds, an' bumped... no, no, make that crashed... into this man."
Jae cringed. She had done that a time or two herself. Luckily for her, she'd learned how to avoid collisions while escaping. Alas, the Mandrake curse seemed unmerciful to her friend.
"We made a giant avian snowball, and he wasn't very happy about it," Dalin continued. "He wanted no help getting up, neither. So I asked him if there was anything else I could do to help him."
You shoulda run, man, Jae thought, but said nothing.
Dalin picked at his shoelace. "And he told me... he started looking very sly, and he said yes, I could help him after all." He poked at the paper bag with his toe. "He gave me these, and tol' me to sell them."
"You didn't just refuse?"
"Oh, believe me, amiga, I tried! But..." He swallowed hard. "This man tells me that if I don't help him, I am to be smushed."
Jae felt the anger rise. A great many avians seemed intent on smushing Dalin.
"So I dinna want to, but I agreed to help. Smushing is no fun when you are the recipient, I should know. I managed to sneak these into my quarters. But I knew I couldn't hide them forever. This morning I asked myself, 'Okies Dalin, how do you get out of this one?' And I decided I would just have to get rid of them." He kept his eyes on the floor. "And here I am."
Jae's first thought was, And this was the best method you could conceive?! but she thought better of saying it out loud. Dalin said nothing more, so she stated the obvious.
"We have to tell Leila."
"No! Will she not be angry with me--"
"If you tell her what you just told me?" Jae finished for him. "She shouldn't, but maybe. I dunno for sure, but she needs to know."
He frowned. "I am not afraid of being smushed meself, you know," he confessed. "But I am always havin' to be defended, and in this case, if they defend me, they will be smushed."
Jae looked up at him. "We're talking Honor Blades, my friend. The possibility of their being smushed does not seem too likely."
Dalin waggled his head. "But you have not seen this man, this D'mitri."
"Still, he couldn't be a match for the best of the Brotherhood, could he?"
Dalin stared at the floor and gave a noncommittal half-shrug. How could he explain the confidence and dangerous power that emanated from the strange man's very presence?
Jae placed a pleading hand on the older boy's shoulder. "Hey, if he's really that dangerous, that makes it all the more urgent that we tell Leila. Tell you what, I'll come with you. We can find her in the mess hall and tell her we need to talk in her office. It'll be private there, and this way you'll be coming to her with the problem. I mean," she finally cracked a small smile, "that's probably a better prospect than if Silenced or Alistair comes to fix the toilet and shloop, out of the blue, they get a plunger full of marijuana, you know?"
Dalin sighed. It was never any use arguing with Jae when she believed she was doing the right thing... and, truth be told, she usually was. He nodded in resigned surrender.
Leila was certainly less than thrilled about this little incident but, much to Dalin's surprise and relief, he didn't get in trouble; not directly, anyhow.
"Marshall, I want you, Jedar, Cutter, and Ender in my office in two minutes," she ordered through the comm system.
"Now don't think I'm just lettin' ya off the hook ta be nice," she said, turning back to Dalin. "I could restrict ya on several accounts." The boy's face fell slightly. "Unfortunately, you've gotten yourself into a mess that requires more immediate attention, so I'm putting your probation on hold until further notice." Jae started to defend him, but the leader gave her a warning look that shut her up immediately.
A firm knock came on the door. "If I called for ya, come in."
They'd been called for. "Jae, you're dismissed," Leila said to the girl. "I don't want ya talking to anyone about this, understand? I'm hopin' ta get it taken care of quietly."
Jae nodded. "Yes, ma'am." She gave Dalin one last encouraging look and left, closing the door softly behind her.
Leila had Dalin tell his story once again.
"D'mitri?" Jedar said thoughtfully. "Dalin, how you manage to collide with the top guns is beyond me. The guy is the biggest drug lord on the black market."
"Then why does he need my thieves as couriers?!" Leila demanded, now sounding somewhat irate.
Jedar shrugged. "I doubt he's targeting us specifically."
"I don't care," Leila declared. "He's got no business forcing innocent avians to become drug dealers! I want you four to meet him, give him a warning. If he tries to use any o' the Brotherhood again, I'll give him hell for it!"
Marshall was visibly disturbed. "Lass, 'taint as drastic as all that, is it? Jedar's right; the bloke can't 'ave been targeting the Brotherhood specifically. He couldn't 'ave known Dalin was a member."
And Marshall couldn't have known that what filled Leila's mind at that point was the terrible image of Ash, lying on that bathroom floor in a drugged stupor. The memory almost made her shudder with revulsion. "That's an order," she said coldly.
Marshall threw his arms up in surrender. "Alas, girl, it's no use tryin' ta understand ye. Come, lads, ye heard your leader. Cutter, get thee to a computer and let's find out what we can of this D'mitri."
They gleaned sufficient information easily enough, and through a few new contacts they arranged a meeting with the alleged drug lord that evening. Ten o'clock found them in a warehouse on the south side of Keltor City, one of several owned by D'mitri and his organization, Black Inferno.
D'mitri was certainly a tough character, a stockily built Nijhro who couldn't be much older than 20 (twenty-four, actually; they'd dug that up from some old files.). Though he was leaning slightly with his fingertips resting on the sturdy metal desk, his eye level was still noticeably above Jedar's. A black beak patch accented his slate gray feathers and his wide brow displayed a fair amount of frown lines. He wore a mechanical headset, an accessory that lent itself to his intimidating presence. It wrapped around the back of his head and held a translucent green shield over his left eye. Most likely some kind of cybernetic interface device, Cutter thought. His clothing was simple and durable: a squarely-cut brown leather jacket, black turtleneck, thick slacks and steel-toed boots.
"Good evening, gentlemen. I understand that you are interested in striking a deal with my prosperous firm." He ran a hand through a mat of bushy curls the same color as the rest of his feathers. "I trust I can assume that you're interested in bargaining for goods?"
The four drakes stood staunchly observing the office in which they were standing, stainless-steel clean and stripped bare save the essentials. Marshall cleared his throat. "Actually... we're 'ere on behalf of a young drake whom ye... 'struck a deal with', a few days ago."
"Oh?" D'mitri half-raised an eyebrow over his cloudy hazel eyes.
"Aye," Marshall nodded. "He's a Mangasian lad, very polite, very accommodatin', and... not exactly the slender type. Ye ran into one another on the street, I believe. Do ye recall 'im?"
The man being questioned frowned. "How badly do you wanna know?"
Cutter took out a small gemstone, an emerald. For a moment, various tiny lights could be seen flickering behind the green of the eye shield; no doubt D'mitri was scanning to see if the jewel was genuine. Cutter smirked inwardly. It was. He'd cut it specially for the occasion, and knew to the smallest dollar what it was priced at.
The drug lord sat on the edge of his desk and motioned to the three empty chairs. The Honor Blades took them, and Ender stood behind them looking dangerous to counter the burly thug standing passively in the far corner.
"What'd the kid tell you?" he asked and casually reached for the emerald.
Cutter pulled it back, just out of his reach, regarding him with a sardonic grin that hinted at challenge. "Only that you recruited him into your little business rather forcefully."
"And this matters to you, why?"
Cutter rolled the emerald between his palms, speaking thoughtfully. "Well, no doubt a drake in his position could benefit monetarily from your line of work. Unfortunately, our young friend failed to mention that he's already very strongly affiliated with another organization."
D'mitri paused at this. "Which organization?" He made the question sound indifferent, something he was a master at.
Jedar took the cue. He reclined in his chair, letting his jacket fall back to reveal his saber, and 'unconsciously' fingered the weapon.
The saber did the trick. D'mitri's mind flushed with sudden clarity and realization. Stormwing... how could he not have recognized the man before? He resisted his gut urge to draw his weapon; if they were hostile or had come to steal valuables, they would have done so long before now. He swallowed and hid his consternation behind a deeper scowl.
"Would you care to explain the advantages of having a Brotherhood member to peddle your wares?" Cutter's voice had a biting edge to it now.
D'mitri swallowed again. "Gentlemen, I assure you, any contact I may have made with your members was purely accidental." His nasally intonation became markedly pronounced.
"Oh, we surmised that much," Jedar said, still toying with his saber hilt. "Still, isn't it rather cruel to force drug dealing on an innocent child? I'm just wondering what could possibly motivate one to do such a horrible thing..." He clicked his tongue in mock-haughty disapproval.
The drug lord folded his arms, suddenly and permanently a closed book. "I am under no obligation to divulge my work ethics to anyone. Least of all you."
Cutter shrugged. "Fair enough. I guess we have nothing more to discuss, then." He tossed the emerald in the air and D'mitri caught it easily. "Consider that a token of our good will," said Cutter, and he flashed his trademark roguish smile.
"Jest remember that if ye try to manipulate one of ours again, we will take more drastic measures," Marshall said.
D'mitri narrowed his eyes. "Is that a threat?"
"In every sense of the word," Ender said blandly.
D'mitri gave a curt nod. "Understood. Now, gentlemen, please excuse me. I have other business I must attend to."
"No doubt," Jedar muttered.
"Would you like an escort?" D'mitri asked with a menacing smile.
Marshall waved his hand in dismissal as he stood. "No, thank ye. We found our way here; we're quite capable o' findin' the way out."
The four drakes stood and exited, leaving D'mitri to stare at nothing and tap his fingers together slowly. Finally he stood, glancing at the clock on the wall. "All personnel to their stations, escorts meet me in my office in five minutes," he spoke into the comm system through his headset. He had an appointment to keep.
D'mitri entered the basement level of the warehouse. His new suppliers had arrived, punctually, he noted with approval. He also noted, with some chagrin, that the main drake of the three carriers was a middle-aged Mangasian. A bit too ironic for his tastes. He'd have to make this short.
He exchanged a few words, then asked to see the merchandise. The Mangasian produced a plastic-wrapped bundle of white powder. D'mitri took out a small knife and slit the package, then used the knife to lift out a small amount of powder. He licked his finger, tapped the powder, and tasted it. He savored it slowly, and felt his heartbeat grow faster. Good, very good... he rubbed his fingers together as he took them out of his mouth, and snapped.
And gunfire erupted from his well-armed assistants.
It was over quickly; they were new to the business, and as such inexperienced. And they would not survive to give him trouble, nor warn anyone else of his dealings.