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He rattled off a few mundane things.

  Reeda grinned. “Then, get your peacekeepers into mopping-up duty and we will be on our way.”

  He smiled and began ordering his men to help the thirty-odd folks who had been held hostages and arresting the criminals.

  Reeda whispered in the com unit. “Well done, guys. Time to head home.”

  She slipped onto her riot runner. “I will meet you at home.”

  It was a smug ride home to the base. All in all, she was pretty happy with the way things had gone.

  Chapter Seven

  The bots had dinner ready when she arrived. She washed her hands and face, checked the bruises on her chest and was at the table doing the after-action paperwork before the guys got home.

  She was checking the data pad that was scrolling all the newsfeeds and reading the favourable reviews by the reporters. They admired the lack of general destruction and dragged-out mayhem that had been one of their prime characteristics. Guardians were not known for damage control.

  Reeda was working in the common area and assembling a timeline of events when the skimmer landed. The guys came in, and they smiled at her. Even Kimda had a pleased expression on his features.

  “Wash up and get ready for dinner. We will discuss the mission while we eat.” She completed her preliminary report and filed it in the base archives.

  It was funny that the men, who were all older than she was, followed her orders without a second thought when it came to getting a meal.

  She went to the sink and washed her own hands before she settled at the table. The bots brought her her salad, and she nibbled at it until the guys arrived. Her dietary requirements were slightly different than theirs, and it would take her a lot longer to finish her meal if she didn’t start sooner.

  The moment Bilro settled down in the chair at her right, she dug into her salad.

  The others followed a moment later, but Bilro gave her a wink.

  As bots handed out the meals, Kimda said, “You came out with a precisely planned attack, Reeda.”

  She nodded with her mouth full of greens. “Yes.”

  He blinked. “I apologise for taking off without you.”

  She waved it off. “Barring extreme weather, I will always take the riot runner so that I can arrive before you do. The two minutes I can spend physically assessing the situation is what will make us an effective team.”

  Oldeck raised his eyebrows. “What if you don’t get there before we do?”

  “Then, you will have to listen to every word I whisper through your coms, because the orders will be coming fast and you might have to change direction.”

  Kimda cleared his throat. “This is awkward for me, but Bilro didn’t mention what your talent actually was.”

  She glanced over at the man who had been convinced that he would win the prize of leadership. “I know when I am looking at trouble and can see actions and the reactions before they occur.”

  Kimda nodded. “That is quite the talent. I thought precognition was inherited. Did either of your parents have precognition?”

  Bilro shifted in his chair, and Kimda jerked.

  As the second course was served, she came clean with her team. “I am a bastard born to a good woman who died as a result of my entering the world. My adopted mother was my mother’s best friend. She is also a l’nal. I know how to speak with alien races, how to deal with settlers who are suddenly considered a threat because of rumours or innuendo. I can see flickers of a future, moments at a time, and that is all I need to make the decisions, well, that and the distance viewing that I managed to learn at the Citadel.”

  Bilro knew already, but the other three were stuck on one word.

  Kimda sounded strangled. “A l’nal?”

  Reaht nodded frantically. “What he said.”

  She sighed. “It isn’t a big deal, but yes, Mother is a l’nal. She wove scarves, and when I was old enough, I took them to the marketplace to sell. The market was so relieved that she stopped showing up, I got a prime spot. I completed my studies at the market and they were my community.”

  Oldeck nodded. “It does explain your self-possession.”

  She snorted. “That is the nicest way of describing it that I have heard. Normally, I get called a bully or bossy.”

  Reaht chuckled. “Subtlety is lost on the l’nal.”

  “It is, but manners and education matter. Mother gave me a home, shelter, food, love and an education that enabled me to pass the equivalencies of any level I chose to challenge.”

  Bilro smirked as he ate his meal. “And she avoided teaching you l’nal history.”

  “Yes, she did.”

  Kimda blinked. “Why?”

  She drummed her nails against the table and glared at him. “Why is it that you all know so much about it?”

  Reaht smiled. “Ryamash IV is a l’nal world. They regularly come and visit for trading purposes, l’nal body language is taught to all children near the spaceport.”

  That explained it.

  They finished their meal with exchanges about where the men had come from. She had spoken about her origin, and they were sharing theirs.

  After the food was gone and the table was cleared, Kimda looked at her, “Where was your father?”

  She chuckled. “I don’t know. Amdor does not screen for parentage unless it is requested, and whoever my father was, he was long gone before I was born. Men have the advantage of the escape, never knowing or caring what they have left behind.”

  The four men stared at her in silence. None could refute it. They had a biological advantage that a female just didn’t have.

  Bilro finally asked, “Did you know what species he was?”

  “No. Mother never met him. If she had, she probably would have eaten him for what he did to Niada.”

  The men shuddered in response.

  She chuckled. “I have agreed to be present during l’nal negotiations as part of my contract.”

  Oldeck smiled in amazement. “You don’t need a translator module?”

  “No. It isn’t easy for one of our kind to learn their language, but it is a handy thing. It carries over miles.” She shrugged and checked her data pad. “Well, news reports are coming in about how efficient our team is. So far, all of the reports are glowing for you guys.”

  Bilro scowled. “What do you mean?”

  “They feel I am reckless and dangerous, with a death wish.” She shrugged. “It isn’t the worst that I have heard.”

  “Why did you attack the man escaping the institution?” Oldeck was curious.

  “He was about to grab a woman, she would trip, he had his finger on the trigger and three would be dead before he ran out of projectiles. When I stepped between them, I knew what I could do, and I could act when the moment changed. Mother made me this clothing to withstand blaster and projectile hits. It is also fireproof.”

  They looked at her silk clothing in surprise. Kimda reached out to touch it, and Bilro sat up, scowling in disapproval.

  “It feels like air.”

  She grinned. “It is very comfortable and easy to clean. I love it. I just wish I had more than one.”

  “Do all l’nal weave fabric like this?”

  Reaht and Oldeck took the excuse to come up and grope her clothing.

  Reeda grimaced. “No, not all l’nal weave fabric like this; in fact, I have never heard of silk being flame retardant.”

  The guys sighed, and she could see their minds working. “I will ask Mother and see if she can offer advice for trading for suits for you guys.”

  The faces around her beamed, and she found out what they wanted but would not ask for, comfort and protection.

  She would see what she could do.

  She mentioned the suit in her letter to Mother and tucked herself into her bed with the com still on and on alert in her ear.

  She slept for a few hours before a chime went off inside her head, and she opened the com to the other Guardians. “Wake up and let’s go. Tida
l wave on the eastern shoreline. One hour’s travel and we will be on survival and rescue duty.”

  As she spoke, she pulled on her clothing and stomped into her boots. She met the guys near the doorway to the landing pad and got onto her riot runner. She was in the air before they had finished loading into the skimmer. She sent the coordinates to the skimmer, accelerated up and zipped down the coastline into increasingly violent weather.

  The ocean roared and bucked against the stone of the shore. It clawed at the sand and buffeted the marshlands. The surf was angry today, and this was just the end of it. The wave had been sudden, and there was probably a talent as the cause.

  She wasn’t concerned with causation right now; she was consumed with the effect. Peacekeepers could manage most of the rescues but not where flooding had made access impossible.

  That was what the Guardians were for.

  The area of devastation glowed on the map as she approached her destination. A hotel was the biggest gathering of folk that needed rescuing, but Oldeck could handle it by pressurizing the building from the inside out. If he could push back the water, everyone could gain a safe floor and prepare for peacekeeper rescue.

  She gave Oldeck his directive and circled, looking for the next target.

  A broken building was the next target. “Bilro, drop Kimda on that building, and Kimda, create a tunnel of debris to get them off the building before it collapses. If you can shore it up while you work, that would be great.”

  Reaht chuckled. “Let me guess. Keep everyone calm?”

  She shook her head. “No, get down to the teams shoring up the sea walls and fill them with purpose while you work beside them. Get those walls back into working order to hold back the ocean or we all take up swimming as a lifestyle.”

  Reaht sounded determined in her ear. “Confirmed.”

  Reaht had physical strength as well as emotional manipulation. He rarely got to use the former. This was a chance for him to do both.

  “Okay, gentlemen, you have your initial tasks, get to them.”

  Reeda swooped down and did an assessment. She pulled her riot runner down next to a crumbled building, and she beckoned to one child out of the seven on the roof. “Come on, sweetie.”

  The adult with them looked at her with wild eyes. “You have to save all of us.”

  The child settled behind her and held Reeda tight with one arm. The rock that she had been holding collapsed and fell into the water swirling below.

  “You are safe. Peacekeepers are on the way. She needs help. Her arm is broken.”

  Reeda turned her vehicle and ignored the angry shouts behind her.

  Bilro chuckled in her com. “You just make friends everywhere you go, don’t you?”

  “Not here to make friends. Here to do a job. Tell the peacekeepers about the very irritated teacher and her students.”

  The emergency structure for medical assistance was glowing, and Reeda brought the child right to the front flap. She dismounted and caught the child up in her arms.

  “I need help here.”

  A nurse glanced at her and then did a double take. “Command Control?”

  “She has a broken arm and internal bleeding. She needs immediate help or she won’t make it through the next hour.”

  Reeda put the child down on the bed the nurse directed her to and stood back as the scanning began. When the internal bleeding came up on the scanner, they whisked the child off for surgery.

  Reeda headed outside and got back on her runner. She swept into the sky and went looking for someone else who was in trouble.

  It started a pattern that took her through the night and into the dawn. Occasionally, she gave the Guardians directives, but for the most part, they knew what they were doing.

  She grinned every time she selected someone who needed her help and others that were left behind railed against her. Apparently, her job was to do her job well and get hell for it.

  She was home.

  Chapter Eight

  Standing in the room with l’nal representatives made her homesick. She watched their silent approach and sat in the shadows as they chattered amongst themselves, unaware that she could hear them and make sense of it.

  Reeda covered her mouth with her hand as they discussed the edibility of the different traders lined up in a row.

  The trade master stood up and bowed, activating his translator. Reeda stifled a laugh when he said, “Welcome, esteemed traders. We welcome you on behalf of Ryamash III.”

  The translator turned the words into, “Welcome traitors, you trade for rice damask tree.”

  The l’nal chuckled and muttered, “Idiots.”

  Reeda triggered her com unit and whispered, “Trade master, may I offer my skills as interpreter?”

  The man looked at her with relief in his eyes. “Yes, thank you. I feel our translation is lacking.”

  Reeda spoke from the shadows. “Welcome, trade mistresses, weavers, mothers and dreamers. We are honoured to have you on our soil and wish for you to have fair trading and great health while you remain here.”

  The four l’nal shifted and looked toward her, seeking her in the shadows.

  “You have a gift for our tongue. Come forward, daughter.”

  “I am here to ease translation, nothing more.”

  “I ask for you to come forward, please. Your phrasing is most familiar.”

  Reeda muttered to the trade master. “They wish to see me. Give me a moment.”

  “Take the time you need.”

  “Thank you, and remember, while your translator sucks, theirs works just fine.”

  She stepped out of the shadows and approached the contingent. “Greetings, mother of webs.”

  Mandibles clicked in shock, and the trade mistress touched Reeda’s hair, her cheek and finally, reverently, her clothing.

  “I recognise the work, but I feared she had left us.”

  “Mother has always done fine work, but she refers to this as her masterpiece.”

  The other l’nal circled around, touching and admiring the weave.

  One of the younger females asked, “What did she dye it with?”

  Reeda inclined her head. “It was not dyed. This is a direct weave with no seams, made for me on the occasion of my leaving home.”

  The l’nal looked as if they wanted to observe and examine the clothing indefinitely.

  “Excuse me, mistresses, but the trade master is eager to begin.”

  The younger one snapped at her to intimidate her. Reeda straightened two fingers and jabbed the female on the upper lip between the mandibles. The female shrieked and backed away.

  The trade mistress chuckled. “You were indeed raised by one of ours. What was your mother’s name?”

  “I am Reeda Rrkra, Guardian of Ryamash III.”

  The l’nal skittered back a few steps, and then, they lowered themselves slightly.

  “Princess, we honour your attempts to ease our work here.”

  “Mistress, I am not a princess.”

  “If you are Rrkra’s daughter, and your clothing says you are, you are a princess to those of us who believe that she was and always will be our queen. Our weavers were loyal to her and respected her choice not to eat her mate.”

  Surprise ran through Reeda. “Is that what happened? She never mentioned why she left her people.”

  “When she refused to agree to his death, they killed him and cut her leg. Based on this work, it did not impede her ability to weave as they hoped it would.”

  Tearing up, Reeda muttered, “She always said that raising me made her do a number of things that she had never believed possible. I stretched her limits on a daily basis.”

  The female chuckled. “I am Trade Mistress Trralka. It is an honour to meet you, daughter of Rrkra.”

  She smiled and gave a l’nal bow, a flexing of knees. “The honour is mine. Now, the locals have requested this meeting, and I believe it should get underway.”

  “Fair enough. Let us begin.”


  Reeda turned to the trade masters and inclined her head. “Introductions have been made and they are ready to begin.”

  The trade masters looked at her in confusion, and she realised that she was speaking l’nal. She tried again, and this time, they were much more enthusiastic.

  The trade talks were under way.

  It was the mention of Mistress Trralka that got her mother to use the video link on the com unit that night.

  “You have met Trralka? Did she look healthy? Was she polite?”

  Reeda smiled. “She addressed me as princess and finally settled for daughter of Rrkra.”

  “I didn’t want you getting a big head. It is bad enough that your father was a travelling Avatar, to have you known as a l’nal princess... well there would have been no living with you.”

  “My father was an Avatar?”

  “Not Amdor. His name is Byuth. Now that you are settled in the world and protected, you can seek him out. How is your relationship with Bilro progressing?”

  “Um, it isn’t. I think he is not comfortable with me being his commander.”

  Mother snorted, a strange sound coming from her mouth. “Some men are that way, or so, I have been led to believe. I found one male that I wanted to spend my life with, but a queen of the l’nal cannot have a living mate. I refused to kill him and consume him to complete my reproductive cycle, so they killed him and maimed me.”

  “Why are you only telling me this now?”

  “Because it hurt, daughter. It hurt my soul to think of him. Yrmik was an excellent consort, and he would have been a great leader, if tradition had allowed him to. You must not allow tradition to stop you from pursuing the mate you want. I want grandchildren, daughter. Get started.”

  “Why are they so surprised at my clothing? They are more interested in my garb than in me.”

  Rrkra chuckled. “Nice change of topic. The clothing I gave you is only an option for a queen. We consume the weed and it changes our silk. It leeches the protein from our bodies to create a dense and interlocked honeycomb of threads that can stop anything and insulate you. The black silk is only woven for those we love. That said, Mertwyn is harvesting more weeds now that they have grown back. You need a second outfit. I have been watching your adventures. You are in dangerous territory and need more protection.”