The Steel Rose
By: SinCrusader

Chapter One:
“One Step Away From Down”

--- January 13th, 5:23 PM ---

It was snowing this time of year, though you wouldn’t know it for the machinery in Jurai’s capital city; the snow was melted by the hot fumes before it could touch the ground. One would assume that these fumes would also heat the city, but one would be wrong. The heat rose, and thus forced all the cold air down, creating a windy and extremely cold environment. But such was the price one had to pay for a decent home at the time.

A lone woman walked almost casually down the frozen street, her dark cloak billowing in the wild wind and her leather armor rubbing cruelly against her skin through her weighted clothes, keeping her warm nevertheless. As she strode silently, wraith-like, she could feel their stares at her back. Considering the day and age, it wasn’t all that strange for her to be scrutinized so much. The year was 17 AAT (After Asridian Takeover). The planet was Jurai. No one wore armor and cloaks anymore on Jurai. The time of knights and warriors and swords disappeared with Empress Ayeka and Emperor Kamadake. Her kind were not welcome anymore on Jurai.

The anonymous warrioress wandered the streets seemingly aimlessly, though in truth she was heading home from work at the the antique shop, possibly the only one on the planet. Her kind were few, but not far apart. Like does attract like.

A few of the blackened bits of snow that escaped the machinery’s heat dusted her cloak, leaving greasy stains on the heavy deerskin. Sighing, the warrioress continued on her way, plodding silently as her senses scanned the area for any sign of danger.

“Wh--!” The word was cut off as though by a gag. Instantly, alarms started going off in her mind. She slunk off to the source of the sound as the people around her on the street continued on their way, aware of what was happening but unwilling to take action. The chivalrous planet Jurai had truly gone downhill.

The muffled thump of her leather boots against the slippery, frozen cement and the pounding of her heart were all she heard in the silence that rang out after the cry, the noises of the crowded streets of Jurai’s capital having faded to the back of her mind. Her breath stung her in the face as its steamy state was quickly frozen and then blown back, seemingly in spite of the warrioress, at its source by the strong winds of the city.

Suddenly the sounds of a struggle echoed off the walls of the tall, cold, gray buildings surrounding her. She wished, honestly wished to Tsunami, that she could fly there. She feared that she might be too late.

Up ahead, the warrioress saw a shadowy back road that hadn’t even been paved. All of her instincts screamed that it was the origin of the struggle. She spun on her heel, nearly slipping on the ice coating the ground, and dashed into the darkened alley. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the lack of light. What she saw made her freezing blood boil; rage flared up in her slitted golden irises.

“Hey, you!” she called into the murk, steam billowing from her mouth as it often will in such frozen conditions. A dark, rough man looked up from tearing the clothes off of a struggling young lady.

“Well, well. What ‘ave we ‘ere?” he said greasily. Four other tall, tough-looking men stepped out of the shadows. “Two for the price of one.”

Rethinking her options, she replied in a soothing growl, “Tsk tsk. Gentlemen, come now, be reasonable. You don’t wanna hurt the nice little lady there, do you?” She shook her head as the cold bit at her quickly numbing cheeks. “I don’t think so. So you just let her go and you can have me, how’s that sound?”

The men laughed deviously, bits of ice falling off their heavy coats and shattering on the hard ground below. “Uh uh. We want y’both. Get ‘er, boys!” The leader signaled to his thugs. They advanced upon the armored woman.

“Okay, have it your way.” She took her cloak off and dropped it on the ground, revealing strong, heavy black leather armor that covered her upper torso, a slight collar framing her neck. On her forearms she wore twin gauntlets that jutted out over the backs of her hands. Studded leather adorned the lower part of her legs as well. To finish off her warrior’s attire she wore a pair of heavy, black leather pants and an equally weighted, equally black leather shirt, both of which were underneath her armor. The whole outfit was only enhanced by the wild shock of spikey, flaming red hair that trailed down her back.

“It would’ve come down to this either way,” she said, slipping into a fighting stance as she unsheathed her katana. “I’ll give you five seconds to surrender.”

At that the thugs laughed uproariously.

“I take it that’s a no.” The rouge leapt at the would-be rapists and began hammering anyone within reach of her swings with the flat of the freezing-cold blade. She didn’t miss once, nor did they manage to land a hit on her anywhere. And, she being a caring and gentle person, not a single one of them was killed, just knocked out.

At seeing all four of his henchmen fall to a single woman, the lead man pulled out a gun and began shooting at her. To hell with catching the wild beauty; he’d have her when she was good and dead. “You’re gonna die, bitch!” the man yelled.

The laser blasts bounced harmlessly off of the blade as she brought it around to catch each one. “Well that was fun,” she laughed cockily. “You done yet? I don’t like wasting time on stupid games. When did you say you were gonna kill me?”

The man roared furiously at that remark. “I ain’t bein’ beat by some damn woman!” He charged at her, gun blazing.

Only to impale himself on the blade of her weapon.

“Damn it,” she cursed, pulling the katana from the man’s chest before it became stuck there by his quickly freezing blood. “Why do you guys always have to do that? It’s like you know I hate killing you.” She shook her head sadly and wiped the blade off on his shirt, then sheathed it.

A short whimper rang out behind the warrioress. She spun around to see the young lady she had rushed to defend.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, ma’am. You alright?” the warrioress asked.

The poor youth just shivered and attempted to stammer out a reply. “Y-y-y-es...”

“C’mon. You need a doctor.” She went over to the lady, who she guessed was about sixteen or seventeen, barely younger than she, and held out her hand to her.

The teen stared at her hand suspiciously. She didn’t know that she could trust this woman. Considering her options, the young lady realized she didn’t really have a choice. It was stay out here and freeze, or go with her unusual savior to a doctor and hopefully a warm house. So she took the offered hand.

“My name’s Hitasa.” She snatched up her cloak, dusted it off, and wrapped the young lady in it, seeing as her clothes weren’t doing any good against the deadly cold in their tattered state. “What’s yours?”

“I’m N-narika.”

“Pleased to meet you, Narika. If only the circumstances could have been more pleasant.” Hitasa bowed elegantly. “C’mon, my house is close to here. My sister’s a good doctor, she’ll help you.”

--- 32 minutes later ---

The door fell shut loudly against the frame. Her house was warm and comfortable; in the hearth was a merrily crackling blaze. The place was full of plants; it stood as guardian of the last bit of the Juraiian forest. There was a beautiful lake outside, in the center of which was an island harboring the last giant Juraiian tree Gwereth. The house and its plot of land were obviously set up to resemble a certain abode on Earth.

“Hitasa?” called a gruff but nevertheless regal voice.

“Father!” she returned. “I’m home!”

Two figures entered the fire-lit room. One was that of a once-famous Juraiian knight, the other Hitasa’s sister, a delicate flower of a girl. The girl had sky blue hair and sparkling pink eyes, just like her mother.

“Who is it you’ve brought home this time?” her father asked, looking sympathetically at the haggard form of Narika.

“Father, this is Narika.” She indicated to the youth next to her. “Narika, this is my father, Azaka.”

“Azaka!” Narika gasped. “Azaka the Legendary Knight?”

The knight nodded sadly.

“By the holy leaves of Tsunami!” She fell to her knees, bowing humbly.

The fallen knight was quite taken aback. That wasn’t the reaction he’d expected at all. Usually people hated him for letting Jurai fall to the Asridian invaders who had taken over shortly after Ayeka and Kamadake’s disappearance.

“Err... Rise, Narika,” he said hesitantly.

The young lady did as she was bidden then rounded on Hitasa. “And you! I can’t believe I didn’t trust you!” She hugged the warrioress and repeatedly said, “Thank you, thank you so much for saving me!”

“Uhh... Yeah, you’re welcome.” Hitasa attempted to pry herself from Narika’s grasp.

“Oh, excuse me,” she said, noticing Hitasa’s younger sister. “I’m Narika. What’s your name?”

“My name is Samantha. You can call me Sam.”

“An Earth name,” Narika observed.

“Excuse me,” Azaka cut in, “but how do you know about Earth?”

“I study it. In fact, I study all of the known Universe,” she answered. “I’ve also studied Jurai’s history.” She relented in her rant for a short moment, taking a breath. “It’s no small shame the Asridians took over; they destroyed Jurai’s golden age.”

A storm played over Azaka’s face. “I agree. I only wish I could have stopped them.”

“It’s not your fault, I couldn’t expect one knight to drive off an entire nation of thieves!” Narika said with conviction.

“Yeah, but where did you get historical records?” Hitasa asked. “I thought the Asridians destroyed them all.”

“Not all of them, but most, yes,” Narika corrected. “My father is a private collector of literature and has a lot of books on Jurai and the many periods it went through. Legends, myths, even the foretold resurrection of the Knights of Jurai, Azaka and Kamadake.”

“Wow,” Hitasa said dryly. “So our invaders aren’t perfect.”

“I’m glad that some of the old texts have survived. Perhaps we can copy them and give them to the people of Jurai,” Azaka suggested.

“I don’t have any way to do that.” Narika sighed.

The knight frowned. “True.” His frown shifted to a more patronizing, worried expression. “I’m sorry, you must be exhausted from your ordeal. Please have a seat by the fire, I’ll have my wife make something to soothe your hurts.”

“Oh, please, I’d hate to burden you--” Narika began.

“It’s no trouble. I was resurrected to protect and shelter the weakened, and that’s just what I’m going to do.” Azaka thought for a moment. “Sam, she’s injured. Please tend to her wounds.”

“Yes father,” Samantha replied. He nodded and left for the kitchen. She moved over to Narika and guided her into a fluffy armchair. “You don’t mind if I practice on you? I gotta get really good so I’ll get accepted into Med. School,” the younger girl joked.

“Oh, um... No, go right ahead,” Narika replied, grinning a little nervously.

Hitasa, finding that she had nothing to do, collapsed dramatically into another of the overstuffed articles of furniture. Finally realizing that she hadn’t actually really looked at Narika, the warrioress took a moment to study the young woman she had rescued.

Narika had a soft, kind face framed by flowing blonde hair and highlighted by crystal-blue eyes. Her skin was fairly tanned, considering the Juraiian living conditions. She had decent muscle tone, too, which was surprising to Hitasa since most Juraians gave up on physical fitness after the Asridians took over. All in all, Narika was not your average Juraiian. And to Hitasa, that only made her all the more intriguing.

Samantha looked up from bandaging a large gash on Narika’s arm. She grinned mischievously. “So what was it like? What did you do?”

Hitasa grinned right back and launched into her retelling of the day’s main events. “It was crazy, totally insane. I was walking home after work at Bo’s when I heard this loud shout. My warrior instincts immediately took over and I practically flew to the place the sound came from. You wouldn’t believe what I saw: Ten men were pretty much ripping her clothes off, the bastards.”

“How horrible!” Sam exclaimed, applying a mixture of herbs to another cut.

“Yep, but that wasn’t the worst of it. I offered to let them go but...”

In her chair, Narika just grinned at the exaggerated tale.

-------------------------------------------

“Azaka?” asked a cheerful voice.

“Princess Sasami.” Azaka inclined his head to his wife.

Sasami frowned, much like her mother, her eye twitching in a perfect imitation of Misaki. “You’re so damn formal! Cut it out! I’m your wife, dammit!”

He flinched. “Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s okay. I was only kidding.” Sasami turned back to chopping some vegetables for dinner. “I’ve been working on that one for a while.” At 438, Sasami was a mirror image of Tsunami, as predicted.

“It’s very... convincing.” At 1,547, including the time before his resurrection, Azaka looked only about 34, exposure to Gwereth having restored his youthfulness.

Azaka strode over to his wife in the spacious kitchen and scooped her up lightly in his strong arms, causing her to giggle and put down her knife. He kissed her lovingly in a less formal greeting. “Is that better?”

Sasami threw her arms around the knight’s neck, laughing cheerily. “Yeah, definitely.”

He set her down, having unknowingly lifted her up, and said, “Throw a few more vegetables in that soup, we have a visitor.”

“So I heard. She’s injured, huh?” Sasami clucked. “I suppose I’ll whip her up some tea. Nah, I’ll make us all some.”

Azaka chuckled. “Why stop there? You could just go ahead and make enough for the whole planet!”

Sasami set a pot of water on the stove to boil. “Now why would I do that? Then I’d have to give some to the Asridians.”

The knight grinned then bid his wife farewell and left the kitchen to tend to their guest.

-------------------------------------------

“... And then whammo! I slammed my sword right into his face, and down he went!” Hitasa narrated, waving her hands around in the air to emphasize the point.

“Way to go, sis!” Samantha cheered.

“Oh yeah, he’s feelin’ it right now,” Hitasa replied. “Anyway, another one charged right up to me... and all but tripped over the blade! You should’a seen the look on his face!

“When all the thugs were down, the big one came after me, the one who wanted her before everyone else. Well, he runs up, shooting everything within a mile’s reach--‘cept me, of course--when suddenly he runs right into my sword, stickin’ himself on it. I mean, can you say ‘idiot’? He completely ruined my hours of hard work polishing that thing!”

Samantha whispered to Narika, “This is just her way of letting off steam at having killed him.”

“Oh,” the teen replied. “But why didn’t you kill them all? We don’t need that scum running all over Jurai.”

Hitasa looked at her with guilty eyes. She opened her mouth to reply, but another, deeper voice beat her to it.

“That’s true, yes. But they weren’t that way before Jurai collapsed.” Azaka stepped into the room, a fatherly smile on his face. “You see, before the Asridians took over and people were forced to the streets, the men in this area were honorable nobles. But times have changed and desperation has taken its toll.”

Narika nodded slowly. “It’s sad. But there’s gotta be a way to get rid of the Asridians, right? Wish we could find Empress Ayeka and Emperor Kamadake.”

“It would never be the same, but you’re right; it cannot be allowed to stay like this forever.”

Suddenly a shrill whistle echoed from the kitchen, followed by a comical, “Shaddap, you stupid teapot!” then was just as quickly silenced. Shortly thereafter Sasami stepped out of the kitchen with a tray laden with several cups of tea and five bowls of rich vegetable soup.

“Here you are,” she said as she began handing out cups and bowls to each person.

“Thank you, miss...?” Narika cocked an eyebrow.

“Sasami Jurai.”

Narika almost choked on her tea at that. “Jeez, Hitasa! Your parents are two of the most important people in the history of Jurai!”

“I know,” Hitasa said smugly.

“Were, actually. Nowadays they hate us,” Azaka threw in.

“Mmm...” Narika sipped her tea and soup as a comfortable silence settled over the group.

Out of nowhere, Samantha said, “You will be staying with us tonight, won’t you?”

“Oh, I’d hate to impose on you that much.” Narika shook her head lightly.

Sasami grinned. “You wouldn’t be imposing. You can stay in Hitasa’s room.” The aforesaid warrioress opened her mouth to protest, then closed it, giving up.

“If you insist,” the blonde girl replied. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Narika asked, “So, why didn’t the Asridians try to get rid of you guys like they did Emperor Kamadake and Empress Ayeka?”

“We cut a deal with them,” Sasami answered simply. “We told them that if they let us go and live out our lives peacefully, then we wouldn’t give them any trouble.”

“Yeah,” Azaka added, throwing an arm around Sasami’s shoulders, “they didn’t want to risk losing half their army to a couple of old Juraians. Because, even though we wouldn’t be able to completely wipe them out, we’d still be able to take out a good number of them before they’d be able to subdue us.”

Sasami laughed lightly, flirtatiously, at Azaka’s reasoning, then ducked out of his embrace and headed for the kitchen, swinging her hips invitingly.

“Hey, wait!” the knight called after her as he grinned deviously then took off after his wife.

Narika sighed. “It would so rock to get married to someone like him...”

“Yeah...” Samantha replied dreamily.

“Sam, he’s our father,” came Hitasa’s even reply.

“I didn’t mean him. Just someone who’ll surprise me like that every once in a while,” she said defensively.

“Women.” Hitasa rolled her eyes.

“Hey, you’re one of us too, you know,” Narika said, snapping out of her reverie.

“Unfortunately.”

--- January 14th, 7:19 AM ---

The next morning found Samantha busy in the kitchen. She would have been upstairs, still asleep, if she hadn’t had the sense to wake up early; she knew her mother wouldn’t be up at her usual time, making breakfast, because she’d probably be exhausted from the night before. Of course, Father would still be asleep as well, and for exaclty the same reason.

Samantha hummed a simple, cheery tune as she fried up some eggs and made some sweet miso soup. The tea kettle sat on its little burner, slowly heating up. Apparently she not only looked like her mother but could also cook like her as well.

“Jeez, is it cold enough in here?” she asked no one as she flipped the eggs and slowly stirred the soup. “I’ll have to ask Father to light up the forge fires. When do they intend to get up, anyway?”

As if on cue, Hitasa stumbled down the stairs, clutching her left side in pain.

“Hii?” Samantha asked, turning to look at her sister.

“God damn... it hurts...” Hitasa muttered, tripping and falling down the steps.

“Hitasa?” she repeated.

The warrioress looked up, as it noticing Samantha for the first time. “Oh... hi S--ah!” She gripped her side tightly as a fresh wave of agony ripped through her body.

“Tsunami! What happened?” the young cook asked.

“I got... sho-ot... yesterday...” Hitasa dragged herself into a chair. “But I’m... fine, it’s... n-not that... bad...”

“What?! Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded. “Never mind, explain later.” She sighed and opened the cupboard, groping for her various pain killers and home remedies. She laid the twenty-some jars out on the dining table.

“Take your shirt off,” Sam ordered.

“Sis, this... isn’t ne-ecessary...” Hitasa groaned.

“Yes it is. Now for once in your life just listen to me!”

“All... r-right...” she panted. She moved her hand to reveal a blood-stain on her once pure white nightshirt. She then quickly tried to remove the soaked garment, but only managed to cause herself more pain.

Samantha sighed. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.” She went into the kitchen and retrieved a sharp knife, then went back into the dining room.

“Now hold still,” she commanded. She brought the knife to the shirt, cutting a long slit in the side, then ripped the rest off.

“You... should worry... about bre-eakfast... no-ot me...” Hitasa said through her pained breaths.

“Hitasa, you’re insane.” Samantha pulled a few leaves from one of the jars and carefully pressed them onto the gaping wound on Hitasa’s side.

“Gah!” the warrioress yelped as the herbs began to work, white-hot fire lancing up her side. “What... a-are those...”

“Same thing I used on your hands last week when you tore them to shreds sword practicing. The hilt must have been pretty rough to give you that many blisters.”

“Nah... Just worked... too ha-ard...”

Samantha shook her head. “You are such an idiot, Hii. Look at this. You ripped it open last night in your sleep. If you’d have told me about it, I would never have allowed you to sleep in that rough bed of yours. You should have had the couch, it’s much softer.”

“You kn-now... I can’t sleep... on a soft bed...” By now the herbs were starting to kick in and the pain was subsiding.

Sam sighed, annoyed at her sister’s antics, then took the jars back into the kitchen. “I mean, jeez, it must be at least an inch and a half deep,” she commented, returning to the dining table.

Samantha took Hitasa’s now-useless shirt and ripped it into several long strips, then proceeded to wrap the cut and pretty much her entire upper torso in it. Pain that had been dulled was suddenly reawakened at Samantha’s soft touch as she wrapped the bandage around the slash.

“Ah! Jeez, Samantha... couldn’t be a bit... gentler, could you...?”

“It’s your own fault. Now hold still or you’ll soon know the true meaning of pain.”

Hitasa did as she was bidden and waited for the gut-wrenching fire to subside.

“There.” Samantha stepped back to admire her handiwork. “Now you stay right there, I’m gonna go make breakfast. If I see you’ve moved I’ll have your hide on a stick.”

“Can I... at least get a... shirt...?” Hitasa asked.

The healer frowned at her sister. “The bandage covers most of your chest, Hii. And moreover, I’d rather you not cover it with anything so we can tell if it bleeds too much.” Samantha left her sister for the kitchen and quickly resumed cooking their breakfast.

Azaka came down then, yawning and stretching as he did every day. “Morning, Hitasa,” he said, then did a double-take. “What happened to you?”

“She got shot yesterday and didn’t tell anyone, the idiot.” Samantha stepped out of the kitchen. “I swear, she’ll be on Death’s door one day and she won’t even bother to tell us.”

Azaka looked shocked. “You got shot? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Hitasa moved her hand from its place holding her side onto the table. “It would’ve been... a needless burden...” she managed through her labored breathing

“No, it wouldn’t have.” Azaka was suddenly reminded of Ryoko after she’d dropped them off at the palace to fight Kagato. In fact, their injuries were in about the same place. “You know, you remind me of someone, a real famous pirate I once knew.”

“Really...? Who’s that...?” Hitasa grunted.

“Her name was Ryoko. She saved Jurai once long ago by bringing Tenchi here to defeat the false king Kagato. She had a wound in about the same place yours is when she did it. She was amazing, her spirit and dedication. That was the last time I saw her, though. I don’t think she died, however. I’m pretty sure she’s living with Tenchi on Earth.”

“Tenchi’s... on Earth?” Hitasa placed her hand back over the wound as a fresh spasm of pain washed through her body.

“Yes. Why?”

Hitasa stared at him. “Father... how thick-headed does one... have to be to... not realize that Lord... Tenchi could probably defeat... the Asridians...?”

“I know that. But how do you propose I reach him?” Azaka asked sharply.

“I’m sorry... Father, I didn’t... think,” the warrioress replied.

The knight shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have vented on you like that.”

Samantha, thinking it was as good a time as any to cut in, said, “Father, could you light up the forge fires? It’s freezing in here, and I don’t think the cold is doing Hitasa any good.”

“Yes, of course.” With that Azaka left to fire up the iron forge in the back of the house where he worked.

“Hmm...” Hitasa closed her eyes for a brief moment and let her thoughts just drift. Tenchi... How can I possibly get to you? I have to find you, that’s for sure. And if I do, will you help Jurai? First thing’s first: I need a ship.

“Samantha...?”

“Hmm?” the young cook replied.

Thinking again, she realized it would be better to ask Narika first so as not to arouse her sister’s suspicions. “Never... mind...”

-------------------------------------------

Feathery strands of light filtered in through the window, and for a moment they looked pure. But no, as she opened her eyes she saw that it was, in fact, the smog-filled harshness the people of Jurai dared to call the sun’s holy rays.

Sasami sighed, sitting up in bed. As she did she felt her back crack in several places, and vaguely realized that though she might look youthful, there were some things that came with age no matter what one did. Well, aside from Washu, who still looked, and felt (and sometimes acted), twelve years old, despite being over twenty thousand.

She surveyed her cozy little bedroom, taking in the familiar sights: the two large chests-of-drawers, one with several baskets of jewelry balanced atop it, the other bearing a television and a video game console with several of the games stacked beside it; Azaka’s old armor, hanging ceremoniously on the wall; the desk beside her bed covered with framed pictures from her childhood; the large double-bed she sat on, attempting to clear the sleep from her eyes; and the bathroom a few feet to the left of the bed.

Sasami slipped neatly out from under the covers, heading straight to her jewelry-box littered dresser. She rummaged around in the drawers for a few minutes before pulling out a light green shirt and pants then quickly throwing them on. She’d worry about make-up and whatnot later, when it mattered.

The former Second Crown Princess of Jurai, the title now null and void, walked gracefully out of her bedroom and down the stairs to the kitchen to make breakfast...

... Only to find her daughter already hard at work at the stove. She beamed at her proudly before noticing her other, far more obstinate daughter sitting at the table wrapped in bandages.

“By Tenchi-ken! What did you do to yourself this time, Hitasa?” she demanded in an extremely worried voice.

“Huh...?” Hitasa looked up from her brooding. “Oh... Morning Mom...” she greeted.

“What happened?” Sasami insisted.

Hitasa went back to staring at the table for a moment. “I was shot yesterday... It started acting up this morning so... Sam put some stuff on... and bandaged it up...”

From in the kitchen, a loud, unladylike snort could be heard.

“Acting up indeed!” Samantha said, annoyed. “You came down, practically unconscious for the pain, and all you can say is it was acting up?”

“I suppose... you’d rather I say... I was about to ring Death’s... doorbell when you miraculously... saved me...?” Hitasa retorted.

Sasami shook her head and cut in. “Anyway, Samantha, I’m proud of you for helping your sister and for making breakfast.”

The young cook swelled with pride. “Well, it was my duty as her sibling...” she trailed off.

“Hitasa, I’m proud of you for your bravery yesterday, but being brave does not mean you should ignore your wounds. They can get infected and make you ill. How would you like it if the pain from a wound forced you to not stop a robbery or save someone like Narika? Or worse, what if you got into a fight in your condition and were killed because your wound prevented you from blocking an attack, hmm?”

“Yes, I understand... Mother...” Hitasa replied seriously. “I was foolish... and I shouldn’t have... been. I was lucky... my folly did not cost... me my life. I will... not make this mistake... ever again...” She turned her gaze back towards the wooden table. Her thoughts, though partially on the conversation at hand, were also visiting several places in Jurai, searching for some way to get to--

“Hitasa, are you listening to me?” Sasami demanded.

“Hmm...?” She looked up at her mother with tired, distracted eyes.

Sasami’s harsh gaze immediately softened. “After breakfast you should get some rest.”

The warrioress nodded and returned to her thoughts. She almost knew the still asleep Narika could answer her questions and tell her where to get a ship. If only she’d wake up!

To be continued...

Post Author’s Note: Okay, so that’s it for the first chapter of my first Tenchi fic, The Steel Rose. I think this one’s a little lacking, but I promise it’ll get better. I’ll have the next chapter posted in... Oh, say, around two or three months. See ya then. Buh-bye now. Git! Go! WRITE TO ME!!!!! (ZEKKR@aol.com)