[MechWarrior Fic] One of Us
I seem to have a real fixation on writing my RP and gaming characters lately. Ah well. This is about Cera (Howell), my Snow Raven turned Ghost Bear Mech Warrior in our Battle Tech game. Jow, who's GMing the whole thing, has tried real hard to give me some political challenges to work with because of my character's background. She picked up her Bloodname (read: surname acquired by fighting others of a similar genetic legacy and coming out on top) during our last outing, so I thought it appropriate that I write about her loneliness. Yeah, don't go poking around in my headspace.
I had fun describing the fighting, but I'm no martial artist and watching a few episodes of Human Weapon won't make me one. So if some of these things won't work, forgive me and move on :P. Really, the trickiest part was writing without using contractions (it's considered swearing in the clans, so funny!). There's a boatload of don'ts and can'ts and won'ts in my future, yessiree :P. Elementals, so you know, are extremely large, tough soldiers. A regular-sized person fighting an Elemental is generally looked on as pure folly. However, an extremely high score in martial arts: military and a nice PC stamp on my forehead help greatly ;).
Completely worksafe, though I did originally consider pr0n :P.
One of Us
Have you ever been tackled by an Elemental? Not as a participant in one of their sports, nor as a combatant. Just laid out flat in the hallway of an ordinary building during a few moments of relative peace. It is both disconcerting and, I have found, familiar.
As I had been taught, I did not try to halt my fall, instead using my arms to protect my head and keep it from hitting the floor. The rush of adrenaline was immediate, sharpening my senses. The moment I was down, I pulled both arms beneath my body and pushed my attacker and myself up. Once I started getting some traction with my knees, I jerked my elbow around and up, aiming for his face.
“Ow!” an entirely familiar voice cried out from behind me. The arms that had been attempting to pin mine loosened just enough for me to wriggle back further beneath him. Using my elbow again to great effect, I caught Hans Gurdel hard in the stomach and used his gasping moments to push him off me. In a matter of seconds, I stood a little more than a meter away from him in a fighting stance.
To his credit, he was still smiling around the bloody nose. “Cera Howell,” he emphasized the Bloodname prominently. “It is good to see your time among the Snow Ravens has not made you soft.”
My breathing was still elevated, the blood pounding in my ears. But Hans was not my enemy. And hearing him say my name such brought a smile to my face. One I am sure Sky Bekker would describe as “goofy.”
“I am afraid the Ravens fear me in these combats. I used them to sharpen my teeth and claws during the trials,” I said, touching the spot of blood at my mouth where I had split my lip in the fall. “If I do not meet your standards, it is only because they have not challenged me in the time I was gone.” I stepped forward to offer him a hand up, bracing myself so he could not just pull me on top of him again if it was a trick.
“Oh no, Cera Howell,” he accepted my hand up. “You have not lost the skills we beat into you before you left. But I had to be sure.” At just a little under 160 kilograms, Hans Gurdel did not truly need my help. But the gesture was one of friendship, one that I had missed in the recent months spent in travel to Snow Raven territory and then during the Bloodname trials. “We should go see Sky Bekker and Adolf Snuka. They were eager to greet you when you returned.”
I gestured for him to lead on. “Then we should go. I do not want to keep them waiting.”
As we walked down the halls toward the workout room - could I have I expected anything less? - I received a number of friendly greetings and offers of congratulations on my Bloodname. But my mind was still mired in the recent past, in my own sudden recognition of how much I had changed during my time as abtahka.
***
A little over a month before, I was not Cera Howell. I was Cera, coreign to saKhan Anjya Bekker, the Cera who killed a Ghost Bear Elemental in unarmed combat. That Cera. And I was back with my home clan for the first time in years.
I felt strangely alone. Always before, I had been busy making political maneuvers designed to elevate my position within the Howell family as well as those necessary to advance the family’s standing within the clan. Now the only political alliances I could make that would be worthwhile were those I already had. I considered Snow Raven Khan Ruth Howell a friend. She and I had done a number of favors for one another over the years. It was because of her that I was receiving the chance to fight for a Bloodname. But the fact remained that I was a Ghost Bear. I would never be a Snow Raven again.
Astrid Howell, head of the Howell Bloodhouse, seemed intent on pounding that into my head when I met with her before the trials.
When I left the clan, the head of the Howell family had been a Mech Warrior I found agreeable enough, Lanis Howell. I had met with him twice to perform services for the family. Shelves of histories, ours and those of the Star League, had lined the walls of his office. It was considered eccentric to keep hard copies of such things, but he liked them. I had heard his retirement from the head of the family was not entirely his own idea, but that he was forced out over a scandal about how he had acquired some of his books.
Astrid Howell’s office could not have felt less warm and welcoming. Her walls were bright, brilliant white, as was her carpeting. The back wall was nothing but glass and southward-facing sky. It was late afternoon and the sun shone in blindingly. My eyes ached just opening the door. The woman herself was seated behind her desk in front of the window, silhouetted by the light, her facial features nearly impossible to see.
The décor and facing of the office were designed to put visitors at a disadvantage, unable to discern Astrid Howell’s reactions and less able to mask their own. I immediately recognized the deliberate hand in these design choices and I could only conclude Astrid Howell had made many enemies in her life and had taken to treating everyone as such until proven otherwise.
I blinked to clear the tears from my eyes, but I could not tell if the head of house was even facing me. I saluted and said, “Astrid Howell, you requested a meeting with me.”
It was a few moments before she made her answer. My eyes had adjusted somewhat to the brightness of the light and I could tell she was engrossed in the computer screen on her desk. She motioned to me, “Sit, Mechwarrior Cera.”
“Coreign,” I corrected, taking a seat in the only other chair in the room, a hard but serviceable plastic chair in the same stark white as the rest.
Astrid Howell turned her eyes on me then and I recognized the icy blue color the Snow Ravens are known for. I see it in the mirror every morning, after all. After a considering moment, she said, “I see you cling to your Ghost Bear trappings. But here you are only a Mechwarrior.” She leaned back in her chair. I found if I concentrated somewhere around her throat I was able to see the changes in her expression peripherally, whereas looking any higher just made me squint further. “I wanted to make several things clear in the unlikely event that you manage to win in the coming trials.”
My hands gripped the sides of the chair tightly and I fought not to clench my teeth. I used to be better at controlling myself. But mental scolding could be saved for later. Now I needed to concentrate on not embarrassing myself. “Since I intend to win, I believe it will be important for you to tell me what it is you want, then.”
She waved away my words, dismissing them like Elementals in a warship battle. “If you earn a Bloodname, I want you to understand that you will be required to return to Snow Raven territory with all haste from time to time for votes of importance to the Snow Ravens. If you do not think you or your clan,” she sneered, “can accommodate this request, then I suggest you remove yourself from contention.”
I wondered if Astrid Howell had a Ristar favorite in this fight. It seemed a terribly strict guideline to place before I had even begun to fight. “The Ghost Bear and I will make every effort to return me here whenever I am needed. I understand the importance of autonomy among the families, Astrid Howell.”
She nodded slowly. “This is your last attempt at a Bloodname, quiaff?”
I frowned, not sure if Ruth Howell had told her this or if she was guessing. I immediately regretted the reaction. If she hadn’t known already, she did now. “I am abtahka. That I have been given an opportunity to fight for a Bloodname at all only reflects that I have brought such honor to the Snow Raven that it cannot be ignored.”
“Ruth Howell certainly seems to think so,” she replied. As she turned to the side, I was afforded a better view of her face. Her hair was cut harshly short, but it did nothing to hide the strands of gray in among the darker. I could see a few lines in the skin around her eyes that could not be scars. I suddenly understood why she was so adversarial. She had very little time left as head of the Howells. “Do not kill any of our warriors, Cera,” she leaned forward. “Such waste may be par for the course among the Ghost Bear, but I would not see our warriors used to add more kills to your codex.”
My eyes narrowed. Of course she was talking about my recent bout with a Ghost Bear Elemental, who I had killed in hand-to-hand combat. It had been entirely accidental, but it was an incident no one could forget quickly. “The Snow Raven have been good allies to the Ghost Bear. I see no reason to endanger that regard by trying to kill your warriors. I will limit the casualties in my trials as best I can.”
“See that you do,” she said, turning away from me dismissively.
I stood and saluted again, glad to be leaving. The cool dimness of the hallway helped calm me immediately and I headed back to my room.
When I returned and changed into more comfortable clothes, I sat down at the computer in my room and looked up the names of people I had once known. Most of my sibkin were either dead, Bloodnamed, or falling into the slow slide of the Solhama. Those I had counted as allies were, for the most part, positioned well within the clan. None had risen as high as I had in Ghost Bear. For that I was secretly glad. And when I finished recalling all the names that used to mean something to me, I went to the workout room and tested their facilities.
I found them lacking, of course. Elementals in Snow Raven are not as bulky as those in Ghost Bear and the Mech Warriors spend very little time sparring beyond the rudimentary levels. But it was something to do for the next few days.
Perhaps that is why I was so effective during my Bloodname trials: my focus from the previous week provided the boost to pull ahead. But I will not guess at it. I am overjoyed at what I gained.
When I met with Ruth Howell, I was still wearing the stark black and white dress uniform of the clan, as was she. I have a hard time imagining her in anything else, but I found myself surprised every time I caught a glimpse of myself in Snow Raven white. Her office was small but serviceable, awards and tasteful paintings of dark birds vying for space on her walls. No harsh lighting meant to distract here.
“Congratulations,” she said in greeting, reaching out to embrace me. It was the first time I had felt comfortable since leaving the Ghost Bears. That realization was daunting, but I suppressed my own surprise. This was not the time. “Please,” she said, extending her hand to a chair in front of her desk. “Sit.”
“Thank you, Ruth Howell,” I said as I took her invitation. “It is something I have waited a long time for and it is very fulfilling to have reached this pinnacle.”
Taking a seat behind the desk, the Khan smiled at me. “Cera Howell, I did not have any doubt that you would earn your Bloodname. It is why I had no reservations about sponsoring you.”
I grinned, large and ungainly. It would have been impossible not to, hearing my name - my full name, now - spoken aloud and not merely my own whispers in the dark or my dreams. The excitement squirming in my belly like a caged animal would fade with time, I was sure. For now, it was a pleasant reminder of the immortality I had gained.
“I will not say it was easy, but it was worthwhile,” I told her. “The Snow Raven warriors fought hard to keep it from me.”
Ruth Howell stood and went to a cabinet to my right, pulling two cups from a cupboard along with a thermos. With quick, precise movements she poured a drink for each of us. I could see the steam rising from the mugs. “You have been gone so long,” she said, handing me a mug as she returned, “I wonder if you even remember what you have been missing.”
The scent hit me, rich herbs and a hint of honey, bringing back a wave of pleasant memories. The midori tea Snow Ravens guarded just as carefully as their fleets had been completely absent from my life for years. I sipped carefully, enjoying the smooth slide of it past my tongue, the way it warmed me from within. “You do me a great kindness,” I nodded to her, examining her motives even as I enjoyed the midori. Was it just kindness or was she trying to tempt me back to the Snow Raven fold somehow? Did she think I would ignore the Snow Raven now that I had gained what I needed? Surely she knew I still counted her friendship among my own resources.
Ruth gestured dismissively. “You are here for so short a time, there is no reason not to extend the greatest hospitality we can.” She sat back in her chair and considered me. “Have you heard from many old friends while you have been back?”
“I have not,” I admitted, since the truth hurt me none at all. “But then again, I have not gone looking for them either. I suppose most of them have moved on to bigger and better things?”
There was a glint in Ruth’s eyes that I recognized, a completely Snow Raven look that meant they were about to start making deals. “Then I should enlighten you. Much has happened since you left us.”
For the next two hours, Ruth Howell told me of past Snow Raven intrigues, none of which would gain me any footing outside the clan, but as, I think, a test. It was a test I am ashamed to say I did not pass. My mental agility has faded with disuse. I often could not follow the leaps of logic until they were explained and I know there were things I missed in her discussions. I could tell when she was leaving out some vital clue, but it was often difficult to place what it might be. Ghost Bear politics was a slow and lumbering thing compared to the deft gliding of a Snow Raven in her element. I had allowed myself to slow. The frustration I felt was nearly intolerable. If Ruth noticed either my ignorance or my frustration, she was kind enough not to remark upon it.
When the midori and the conversation were both diminished, Ruth smiled at me again. “I wanted to say again, in person, how much I appreciate your assistance working from Ghost Bear. I had never considered that having a warrior removed from our ranks could be so beneficial.”
I shook my head. “It is not an easy thing to move among another clan and make it your home. Even in Ghost Bear, there are warriors from other clans who struggle against their new ways. I am fortunate in having a malleable nature.”
“Then I will put your malleable nature to good use for so long as I am khan,” she said. “You stand firmly on both sides of your heritage. It is a strength and remember it as such.”
I understood the dismissal. I had not been gone from Snow Raven that long. I stood and saluted. “I will, Khan. Thank you again for the opportunities you provided me.”
She stood as well, returned the salute. “And thank you for proving my support of you was well-founded. Be well, Cera Howell.”
I was still grinning when I left her office.
As soon as I entered my room, I stripped out of the formal attire that I had had to have altered back in Ghost Bear space. The clothes had no longer fit my more muscular form. Once I sat in a comfortable pair of shorts and a tank top, I sat down and considered my console again. With a few deft strokes, I brought up the List, scanned down until I found my name. It was there, as I knew it had to be, near the top of those taken abtahka. If the entire clan was decimated, the remainder might come fight to get me back. A remote possibility, but it was good to feel appreciated.
The next day I set out again for Ghost Bear space and my family.
***
Hans Gurdel pushed me ahead of him as we neared the workout room. I glanced back at him with an eyebrow raised. “Why the rush?” I asked.
“You will see, Cera Howell,” he said.
Two enthusiastic Mech Warriors tackled me as soon as I entered the room, knocking me to the floor once again. These two I did not bother fighting with. Sky Bekker, slight but strong and agile, was squealing in delight, her words making little sense. Adolf Snuka, tall and foreboding, was grinning just as much as I was. It took very little time to get to the meat of their interest: the trials.
We took seats on a bench at the outer edge of the room and I told them the stories, relayed how I had drawn warriors unable to withstand either my physical punishment or my prowess in a Mech. It was a surprisingly easy trial, all things considered.
Beneath their excitement for me, I could see a different kind of excitement building in my three friends as I told them of the trials. Hans’s feet carried him on an abrupt stalking path back and forth in front of where we sat. Adolf’s hands clenched and released, constantly in motion. Sky’s eyes held a sparkle of unrestrained movement, the direct predecessor to action. I had seen the reaction before and I understood it completely. So I said, “I will watch you spar while we talk.”
Adolf shot up and grabbed my arm. “I do not think so,” he pulled me to my feet. Sky took up a position at my other arm, dragging me along, while Hans yelled at the other Elementals to get off the sparring mat. Hans turned to me with a large grin. “All of us this time, Cera Howell.”
I stripped off my jacket and tossed it to the floor. “You must promise to take me to our medtechs if I am unconscious,” I told him, returning the grin.
Adolf nodded. “We would do no less for you.” Then they lunged.
The fight was not as one-sided as I had feared. I went for Hans first, since I had seen Sky do similar things in the past. I was hoping I might have some help from her there. Sky, however, was trickier than that and was aiming her bodyweight at me.
Sky and I went down in a pile, rolling over and over one another until Adolf was able to get an arm around my waist and pull me up. I thanked him with an elbow to the solar plexus while Sky took out his legs from her position on the ground. I rode Adolf to the floor and was already rolling away when Hans made a grab for me.
I skittered away deftly, watching him and circling, while still keeping Sky and Adolf in my peripheral vision. I saw Sky make a running jump for Hans’s back, so I provided her a distraction in the form of a leg sweep. Hans fell hard, but rolled, pinning Sky momentarily.
That was the least of my worries as I scampered up and out of the way of Adolf’s axe kick. He came at me with another kick, which I blocked and caught, throwing him off balance. I was attempting to take advantage of the sudden change in Adolf’s center of gravity when Hans slammed into me again, followed quickly by Sky.
The air left my lungs in a painful whoosh as I hit the mat with the weight of both an Elemental and a Mech Warrior on top of me. But instead of moving, both of them just grinned down at me.
Hans turned to Adolf, “What do you think?”
I watched Adolf walk toward us, stretching one arm like a hit had been scored. I hoped it was one of mine. He nodded to Hans’s question. “Yes, she is one of us.”
Sky giggled. “Of course she is, Adolf. I do not know why you would not let her spar with us before.”
“We did not want her harmed before her Bloodname trial,” Adolf replied.
Sky hummed and tapped her chin. “I suppose that is a good enough reason.”
“While I appreciate the vote of confidence,” I choked out, my breathing still taxed by the considerable weight on top of me, “I am starting to see spots.”
“Lunch!” Sky said, clapping as she stood. Hans lifted himself up off me, then offered me a hand up. I took it as he had taken mine earlier. “We can go show her off.”
“I do not want to be part of a parade,” Adolf said, grimacing. “Not after the problems with August Snuka recently.”
“We can stay here,” Hans offered. “I will keep you entertained.”
“Shower?” Sky offered and the two of us left the large men to their combat.
When we were no longer sweaty or fatigued, Sky and I walked briskly toward the mess hall. In proper Sky fashion, she was babbling about clan developments that had happened since I left. “The worst part,” she moaned, “is that I had to stand in as coreign for Anjya while you were gone. The meetings are so boring.”
I smiled at her. “I hope you found some way to entertain yourself.”
“Adolf Snuka jokes,” she replied, giggling.
Frowning, I said, “What do you mean? I would think Adolf would take offense.”
Sky’s eyes widened and a grin spread across her face. “You have not heard them! I keep forgetting they did not get popular until after you left. They are things like, outer space exists because it is afraid to be on the same planet with Adolf Snuka, or, the primary ingredient of Harjel is Adolf Snuka's sweat. The other ingredient is a softener. They are funny because they are somewhat unreasonable.”
I stopped in the hallway and Sky halted a few steps in front of me. I pinned her with a look. “Did you instigate this?”
“Well… not exactly,” Sky admitted. “But I have been making up new ones and passing them around. I have found a site on the intraweb that is dedicated to collecting the jokes. Adolf does not seem to mind,” she added hurriedly.
“That is not exactly why I was asking,” I shook my head. “Show me what you have found.”
Sky led me to a nearby computer terminal and brought up the page. I scanned the jokes quickly while giving only half an ear to Sky’s explanations. Each line seemed to express Adolf Snuka’s combat and personal superiority to all other Mech Warriors and the other clans in particular. The one about Huntress made me laugh out loud. For the most part, the jokes were given without authorship.
I turned around to lean against the wall beside the console. “So,” Sky asked, “what do you think? Funny, quiaff?”
“Aff,” I said. “But give me a minute to think about this.”
Sky has a tendency to talk too much. But not, strangely, when I am in desperate need of quiet.
For the longest time, Adolf’s superiority in and out of a Mech has been a point of pride for our unit. It has, in fact, enhanced Anjya’s position because of their long friendship. But August Snuka’s recent attempt to discredit Anjya by using Adolf against her weighed heavily on my mind. If August Snuka or another who would see Anjya toppled were to turn these jokes into a point of Snuka pride alone, it would hurt us greatly. Whether Adolf understood it fully or not, Anjya’s success meant success for us all. It was, perhaps, a little bit Snow Raven of me to think like that, but there was also my Ghost Bear loyalty to my friend.
“Can Anjya take credit for that joke page somehow?” I asked Sky finally.
Her brow wrinkled as she considered. “I do not know.” She typed in a number of commands at the console then cocked her head consideringly. “It is registered to a Mech Warrior in House Bekker.”
“See if you can convince him to add some mention of Anjya, either as enjoying the site or approving of it. But there has to be something else…” I hummed in concentration. Then I snapped my fingers. “Do you still have Anjya’s password?”
Sky looked at me sideways, like she was reconsidering my current mental state. “What are you thinking, Cera?”
“I am thinking that you should change the signature of Anjya’s e-mail to reflect one of the stronger jokes. And then do the same for her various message board profiles. Different jokes each time. She needs to take control of this phenomenon before someone else does.” I leaned in to look over her shoulder. Sky was already typing quickly. “Do you have any new ones?”
“Several,” she replied absently, moving on from the e-mail program to the keshik’s message board. “Do you want me to add those as well?”
“Yes,” I nodded, reading as she typed, Before battle, the Nova Cats call out to spirits for guidance. The spirits call out to Adolf Snuka. I laughed. “I like that one.”
She smirked, still entering jokes and moving on to different message boards. “I was particularly pleased with it.” In a few moments, she was done. “I think there are a few places that only Anjya has access to from her personal computer. She will have to change those.”
“Send her an e-mail outlining our plan and telling her what we have done. Tell her it was my initiative.”
“You do not have to take the blame for it. I doubt she will be very mad,” Sky said, typing the note to Anjya. “It is far less than practical jokes I have played on her in the past.”
“She was not saKhan then,” I laughed. “Things are slightly different now.”
“Yes,” Sky gave me a look that was hard to read. Somewhere between appraising and admiring. “They are, Cera Howell. And they have definitely changed for the better.”
I smiled at her, understanding the compliment. I am a Ghost Bear at the top of my clan, a Bloodnamed warrior feared by many. But I still have the thoughts of a Snow Raven running through my head, strict use of potential resources balanced against loyalty to my friends. This is my clan and this is my place.
I said, “We should go get lunch, quiaff?”
There is no place I would rather be.
I had fun describing the fighting, but I'm no martial artist and watching a few episodes of Human Weapon won't make me one. So if some of these things won't work, forgive me and move on :P. Really, the trickiest part was writing without using contractions (it's considered swearing in the clans, so funny!). There's a boatload of don'ts and can'ts and won'ts in my future, yessiree :P. Elementals, so you know, are extremely large, tough soldiers. A regular-sized person fighting an Elemental is generally looked on as pure folly. However, an extremely high score in martial arts: military and a nice PC stamp on my forehead help greatly ;).
Completely worksafe, though I did originally consider pr0n :P.
One of Us
Have you ever been tackled by an Elemental? Not as a participant in one of their sports, nor as a combatant. Just laid out flat in the hallway of an ordinary building during a few moments of relative peace. It is both disconcerting and, I have found, familiar.
As I had been taught, I did not try to halt my fall, instead using my arms to protect my head and keep it from hitting the floor. The rush of adrenaline was immediate, sharpening my senses. The moment I was down, I pulled both arms beneath my body and pushed my attacker and myself up. Once I started getting some traction with my knees, I jerked my elbow around and up, aiming for his face.
“Ow!” an entirely familiar voice cried out from behind me. The arms that had been attempting to pin mine loosened just enough for me to wriggle back further beneath him. Using my elbow again to great effect, I caught Hans Gurdel hard in the stomach and used his gasping moments to push him off me. In a matter of seconds, I stood a little more than a meter away from him in a fighting stance.
To his credit, he was still smiling around the bloody nose. “Cera Howell,” he emphasized the Bloodname prominently. “It is good to see your time among the Snow Ravens has not made you soft.”
My breathing was still elevated, the blood pounding in my ears. But Hans was not my enemy. And hearing him say my name such brought a smile to my face. One I am sure Sky Bekker would describe as “goofy.”
“I am afraid the Ravens fear me in these combats. I used them to sharpen my teeth and claws during the trials,” I said, touching the spot of blood at my mouth where I had split my lip in the fall. “If I do not meet your standards, it is only because they have not challenged me in the time I was gone.” I stepped forward to offer him a hand up, bracing myself so he could not just pull me on top of him again if it was a trick.
“Oh no, Cera Howell,” he accepted my hand up. “You have not lost the skills we beat into you before you left. But I had to be sure.” At just a little under 160 kilograms, Hans Gurdel did not truly need my help. But the gesture was one of friendship, one that I had missed in the recent months spent in travel to Snow Raven territory and then during the Bloodname trials. “We should go see Sky Bekker and Adolf Snuka. They were eager to greet you when you returned.”
I gestured for him to lead on. “Then we should go. I do not want to keep them waiting.”
As we walked down the halls toward the workout room - could I have I expected anything less? - I received a number of friendly greetings and offers of congratulations on my Bloodname. But my mind was still mired in the recent past, in my own sudden recognition of how much I had changed during my time as abtahka.
***
A little over a month before, I was not Cera Howell. I was Cera, coreign to saKhan Anjya Bekker, the Cera who killed a Ghost Bear Elemental in unarmed combat. That Cera. And I was back with my home clan for the first time in years.
I felt strangely alone. Always before, I had been busy making political maneuvers designed to elevate my position within the Howell family as well as those necessary to advance the family’s standing within the clan. Now the only political alliances I could make that would be worthwhile were those I already had. I considered Snow Raven Khan Ruth Howell a friend. She and I had done a number of favors for one another over the years. It was because of her that I was receiving the chance to fight for a Bloodname. But the fact remained that I was a Ghost Bear. I would never be a Snow Raven again.
Astrid Howell, head of the Howell Bloodhouse, seemed intent on pounding that into my head when I met with her before the trials.
When I left the clan, the head of the Howell family had been a Mech Warrior I found agreeable enough, Lanis Howell. I had met with him twice to perform services for the family. Shelves of histories, ours and those of the Star League, had lined the walls of his office. It was considered eccentric to keep hard copies of such things, but he liked them. I had heard his retirement from the head of the family was not entirely his own idea, but that he was forced out over a scandal about how he had acquired some of his books.
Astrid Howell’s office could not have felt less warm and welcoming. Her walls were bright, brilliant white, as was her carpeting. The back wall was nothing but glass and southward-facing sky. It was late afternoon and the sun shone in blindingly. My eyes ached just opening the door. The woman herself was seated behind her desk in front of the window, silhouetted by the light, her facial features nearly impossible to see.
The décor and facing of the office were designed to put visitors at a disadvantage, unable to discern Astrid Howell’s reactions and less able to mask their own. I immediately recognized the deliberate hand in these design choices and I could only conclude Astrid Howell had made many enemies in her life and had taken to treating everyone as such until proven otherwise.
I blinked to clear the tears from my eyes, but I could not tell if the head of house was even facing me. I saluted and said, “Astrid Howell, you requested a meeting with me.”
It was a few moments before she made her answer. My eyes had adjusted somewhat to the brightness of the light and I could tell she was engrossed in the computer screen on her desk. She motioned to me, “Sit, Mechwarrior Cera.”
“Coreign,” I corrected, taking a seat in the only other chair in the room, a hard but serviceable plastic chair in the same stark white as the rest.
Astrid Howell turned her eyes on me then and I recognized the icy blue color the Snow Ravens are known for. I see it in the mirror every morning, after all. After a considering moment, she said, “I see you cling to your Ghost Bear trappings. But here you are only a Mechwarrior.” She leaned back in her chair. I found if I concentrated somewhere around her throat I was able to see the changes in her expression peripherally, whereas looking any higher just made me squint further. “I wanted to make several things clear in the unlikely event that you manage to win in the coming trials.”
My hands gripped the sides of the chair tightly and I fought not to clench my teeth. I used to be better at controlling myself. But mental scolding could be saved for later. Now I needed to concentrate on not embarrassing myself. “Since I intend to win, I believe it will be important for you to tell me what it is you want, then.”
She waved away my words, dismissing them like Elementals in a warship battle. “If you earn a Bloodname, I want you to understand that you will be required to return to Snow Raven territory with all haste from time to time for votes of importance to the Snow Ravens. If you do not think you or your clan,” she sneered, “can accommodate this request, then I suggest you remove yourself from contention.”
I wondered if Astrid Howell had a Ristar favorite in this fight. It seemed a terribly strict guideline to place before I had even begun to fight. “The Ghost Bear and I will make every effort to return me here whenever I am needed. I understand the importance of autonomy among the families, Astrid Howell.”
She nodded slowly. “This is your last attempt at a Bloodname, quiaff?”
I frowned, not sure if Ruth Howell had told her this or if she was guessing. I immediately regretted the reaction. If she hadn’t known already, she did now. “I am abtahka. That I have been given an opportunity to fight for a Bloodname at all only reflects that I have brought such honor to the Snow Raven that it cannot be ignored.”
“Ruth Howell certainly seems to think so,” she replied. As she turned to the side, I was afforded a better view of her face. Her hair was cut harshly short, but it did nothing to hide the strands of gray in among the darker. I could see a few lines in the skin around her eyes that could not be scars. I suddenly understood why she was so adversarial. She had very little time left as head of the Howells. “Do not kill any of our warriors, Cera,” she leaned forward. “Such waste may be par for the course among the Ghost Bear, but I would not see our warriors used to add more kills to your codex.”
My eyes narrowed. Of course she was talking about my recent bout with a Ghost Bear Elemental, who I had killed in hand-to-hand combat. It had been entirely accidental, but it was an incident no one could forget quickly. “The Snow Raven have been good allies to the Ghost Bear. I see no reason to endanger that regard by trying to kill your warriors. I will limit the casualties in my trials as best I can.”
“See that you do,” she said, turning away from me dismissively.
I stood and saluted again, glad to be leaving. The cool dimness of the hallway helped calm me immediately and I headed back to my room.
When I returned and changed into more comfortable clothes, I sat down at the computer in my room and looked up the names of people I had once known. Most of my sibkin were either dead, Bloodnamed, or falling into the slow slide of the Solhama. Those I had counted as allies were, for the most part, positioned well within the clan. None had risen as high as I had in Ghost Bear. For that I was secretly glad. And when I finished recalling all the names that used to mean something to me, I went to the workout room and tested their facilities.
I found them lacking, of course. Elementals in Snow Raven are not as bulky as those in Ghost Bear and the Mech Warriors spend very little time sparring beyond the rudimentary levels. But it was something to do for the next few days.
Perhaps that is why I was so effective during my Bloodname trials: my focus from the previous week provided the boost to pull ahead. But I will not guess at it. I am overjoyed at what I gained.
When I met with Ruth Howell, I was still wearing the stark black and white dress uniform of the clan, as was she. I have a hard time imagining her in anything else, but I found myself surprised every time I caught a glimpse of myself in Snow Raven white. Her office was small but serviceable, awards and tasteful paintings of dark birds vying for space on her walls. No harsh lighting meant to distract here.
“Congratulations,” she said in greeting, reaching out to embrace me. It was the first time I had felt comfortable since leaving the Ghost Bears. That realization was daunting, but I suppressed my own surprise. This was not the time. “Please,” she said, extending her hand to a chair in front of her desk. “Sit.”
“Thank you, Ruth Howell,” I said as I took her invitation. “It is something I have waited a long time for and it is very fulfilling to have reached this pinnacle.”
Taking a seat behind the desk, the Khan smiled at me. “Cera Howell, I did not have any doubt that you would earn your Bloodname. It is why I had no reservations about sponsoring you.”
I grinned, large and ungainly. It would have been impossible not to, hearing my name - my full name, now - spoken aloud and not merely my own whispers in the dark or my dreams. The excitement squirming in my belly like a caged animal would fade with time, I was sure. For now, it was a pleasant reminder of the immortality I had gained.
“I will not say it was easy, but it was worthwhile,” I told her. “The Snow Raven warriors fought hard to keep it from me.”
Ruth Howell stood and went to a cabinet to my right, pulling two cups from a cupboard along with a thermos. With quick, precise movements she poured a drink for each of us. I could see the steam rising from the mugs. “You have been gone so long,” she said, handing me a mug as she returned, “I wonder if you even remember what you have been missing.”
The scent hit me, rich herbs and a hint of honey, bringing back a wave of pleasant memories. The midori tea Snow Ravens guarded just as carefully as their fleets had been completely absent from my life for years. I sipped carefully, enjoying the smooth slide of it past my tongue, the way it warmed me from within. “You do me a great kindness,” I nodded to her, examining her motives even as I enjoyed the midori. Was it just kindness or was she trying to tempt me back to the Snow Raven fold somehow? Did she think I would ignore the Snow Raven now that I had gained what I needed? Surely she knew I still counted her friendship among my own resources.
Ruth gestured dismissively. “You are here for so short a time, there is no reason not to extend the greatest hospitality we can.” She sat back in her chair and considered me. “Have you heard from many old friends while you have been back?”
“I have not,” I admitted, since the truth hurt me none at all. “But then again, I have not gone looking for them either. I suppose most of them have moved on to bigger and better things?”
There was a glint in Ruth’s eyes that I recognized, a completely Snow Raven look that meant they were about to start making deals. “Then I should enlighten you. Much has happened since you left us.”
For the next two hours, Ruth Howell told me of past Snow Raven intrigues, none of which would gain me any footing outside the clan, but as, I think, a test. It was a test I am ashamed to say I did not pass. My mental agility has faded with disuse. I often could not follow the leaps of logic until they were explained and I know there were things I missed in her discussions. I could tell when she was leaving out some vital clue, but it was often difficult to place what it might be. Ghost Bear politics was a slow and lumbering thing compared to the deft gliding of a Snow Raven in her element. I had allowed myself to slow. The frustration I felt was nearly intolerable. If Ruth noticed either my ignorance or my frustration, she was kind enough not to remark upon it.
When the midori and the conversation were both diminished, Ruth smiled at me again. “I wanted to say again, in person, how much I appreciate your assistance working from Ghost Bear. I had never considered that having a warrior removed from our ranks could be so beneficial.”
I shook my head. “It is not an easy thing to move among another clan and make it your home. Even in Ghost Bear, there are warriors from other clans who struggle against their new ways. I am fortunate in having a malleable nature.”
“Then I will put your malleable nature to good use for so long as I am khan,” she said. “You stand firmly on both sides of your heritage. It is a strength and remember it as such.”
I understood the dismissal. I had not been gone from Snow Raven that long. I stood and saluted. “I will, Khan. Thank you again for the opportunities you provided me.”
She stood as well, returned the salute. “And thank you for proving my support of you was well-founded. Be well, Cera Howell.”
I was still grinning when I left her office.
As soon as I entered my room, I stripped out of the formal attire that I had had to have altered back in Ghost Bear space. The clothes had no longer fit my more muscular form. Once I sat in a comfortable pair of shorts and a tank top, I sat down and considered my console again. With a few deft strokes, I brought up the List, scanned down until I found my name. It was there, as I knew it had to be, near the top of those taken abtahka. If the entire clan was decimated, the remainder might come fight to get me back. A remote possibility, but it was good to feel appreciated.
The next day I set out again for Ghost Bear space and my family.
***
Hans Gurdel pushed me ahead of him as we neared the workout room. I glanced back at him with an eyebrow raised. “Why the rush?” I asked.
“You will see, Cera Howell,” he said.
Two enthusiastic Mech Warriors tackled me as soon as I entered the room, knocking me to the floor once again. These two I did not bother fighting with. Sky Bekker, slight but strong and agile, was squealing in delight, her words making little sense. Adolf Snuka, tall and foreboding, was grinning just as much as I was. It took very little time to get to the meat of their interest: the trials.
We took seats on a bench at the outer edge of the room and I told them the stories, relayed how I had drawn warriors unable to withstand either my physical punishment or my prowess in a Mech. It was a surprisingly easy trial, all things considered.
Beneath their excitement for me, I could see a different kind of excitement building in my three friends as I told them of the trials. Hans’s feet carried him on an abrupt stalking path back and forth in front of where we sat. Adolf’s hands clenched and released, constantly in motion. Sky’s eyes held a sparkle of unrestrained movement, the direct predecessor to action. I had seen the reaction before and I understood it completely. So I said, “I will watch you spar while we talk.”
Adolf shot up and grabbed my arm. “I do not think so,” he pulled me to my feet. Sky took up a position at my other arm, dragging me along, while Hans yelled at the other Elementals to get off the sparring mat. Hans turned to me with a large grin. “All of us this time, Cera Howell.”
I stripped off my jacket and tossed it to the floor. “You must promise to take me to our medtechs if I am unconscious,” I told him, returning the grin.
Adolf nodded. “We would do no less for you.” Then they lunged.
The fight was not as one-sided as I had feared. I went for Hans first, since I had seen Sky do similar things in the past. I was hoping I might have some help from her there. Sky, however, was trickier than that and was aiming her bodyweight at me.
Sky and I went down in a pile, rolling over and over one another until Adolf was able to get an arm around my waist and pull me up. I thanked him with an elbow to the solar plexus while Sky took out his legs from her position on the ground. I rode Adolf to the floor and was already rolling away when Hans made a grab for me.
I skittered away deftly, watching him and circling, while still keeping Sky and Adolf in my peripheral vision. I saw Sky make a running jump for Hans’s back, so I provided her a distraction in the form of a leg sweep. Hans fell hard, but rolled, pinning Sky momentarily.
That was the least of my worries as I scampered up and out of the way of Adolf’s axe kick. He came at me with another kick, which I blocked and caught, throwing him off balance. I was attempting to take advantage of the sudden change in Adolf’s center of gravity when Hans slammed into me again, followed quickly by Sky.
The air left my lungs in a painful whoosh as I hit the mat with the weight of both an Elemental and a Mech Warrior on top of me. But instead of moving, both of them just grinned down at me.
Hans turned to Adolf, “What do you think?”
I watched Adolf walk toward us, stretching one arm like a hit had been scored. I hoped it was one of mine. He nodded to Hans’s question. “Yes, she is one of us.”
Sky giggled. “Of course she is, Adolf. I do not know why you would not let her spar with us before.”
“We did not want her harmed before her Bloodname trial,” Adolf replied.
Sky hummed and tapped her chin. “I suppose that is a good enough reason.”
“While I appreciate the vote of confidence,” I choked out, my breathing still taxed by the considerable weight on top of me, “I am starting to see spots.”
“Lunch!” Sky said, clapping as she stood. Hans lifted himself up off me, then offered me a hand up. I took it as he had taken mine earlier. “We can go show her off.”
“I do not want to be part of a parade,” Adolf said, grimacing. “Not after the problems with August Snuka recently.”
“We can stay here,” Hans offered. “I will keep you entertained.”
“Shower?” Sky offered and the two of us left the large men to their combat.
When we were no longer sweaty or fatigued, Sky and I walked briskly toward the mess hall. In proper Sky fashion, she was babbling about clan developments that had happened since I left. “The worst part,” she moaned, “is that I had to stand in as coreign for Anjya while you were gone. The meetings are so boring.”
I smiled at her. “I hope you found some way to entertain yourself.”
“Adolf Snuka jokes,” she replied, giggling.
Frowning, I said, “What do you mean? I would think Adolf would take offense.”
Sky’s eyes widened and a grin spread across her face. “You have not heard them! I keep forgetting they did not get popular until after you left. They are things like, outer space exists because it is afraid to be on the same planet with Adolf Snuka, or, the primary ingredient of Harjel is Adolf Snuka's sweat. The other ingredient is a softener. They are funny because they are somewhat unreasonable.”
I stopped in the hallway and Sky halted a few steps in front of me. I pinned her with a look. “Did you instigate this?”
“Well… not exactly,” Sky admitted. “But I have been making up new ones and passing them around. I have found a site on the intraweb that is dedicated to collecting the jokes. Adolf does not seem to mind,” she added hurriedly.
“That is not exactly why I was asking,” I shook my head. “Show me what you have found.”
Sky led me to a nearby computer terminal and brought up the page. I scanned the jokes quickly while giving only half an ear to Sky’s explanations. Each line seemed to express Adolf Snuka’s combat and personal superiority to all other Mech Warriors and the other clans in particular. The one about Huntress made me laugh out loud. For the most part, the jokes were given without authorship.
I turned around to lean against the wall beside the console. “So,” Sky asked, “what do you think? Funny, quiaff?”
“Aff,” I said. “But give me a minute to think about this.”
Sky has a tendency to talk too much. But not, strangely, when I am in desperate need of quiet.
For the longest time, Adolf’s superiority in and out of a Mech has been a point of pride for our unit. It has, in fact, enhanced Anjya’s position because of their long friendship. But August Snuka’s recent attempt to discredit Anjya by using Adolf against her weighed heavily on my mind. If August Snuka or another who would see Anjya toppled were to turn these jokes into a point of Snuka pride alone, it would hurt us greatly. Whether Adolf understood it fully or not, Anjya’s success meant success for us all. It was, perhaps, a little bit Snow Raven of me to think like that, but there was also my Ghost Bear loyalty to my friend.
“Can Anjya take credit for that joke page somehow?” I asked Sky finally.
Her brow wrinkled as she considered. “I do not know.” She typed in a number of commands at the console then cocked her head consideringly. “It is registered to a Mech Warrior in House Bekker.”
“See if you can convince him to add some mention of Anjya, either as enjoying the site or approving of it. But there has to be something else…” I hummed in concentration. Then I snapped my fingers. “Do you still have Anjya’s password?”
Sky looked at me sideways, like she was reconsidering my current mental state. “What are you thinking, Cera?”
“I am thinking that you should change the signature of Anjya’s e-mail to reflect one of the stronger jokes. And then do the same for her various message board profiles. Different jokes each time. She needs to take control of this phenomenon before someone else does.” I leaned in to look over her shoulder. Sky was already typing quickly. “Do you have any new ones?”
“Several,” she replied absently, moving on from the e-mail program to the keshik’s message board. “Do you want me to add those as well?”
“Yes,” I nodded, reading as she typed, Before battle, the Nova Cats call out to spirits for guidance. The spirits call out to Adolf Snuka. I laughed. “I like that one.”
She smirked, still entering jokes and moving on to different message boards. “I was particularly pleased with it.” In a few moments, she was done. “I think there are a few places that only Anjya has access to from her personal computer. She will have to change those.”
“Send her an e-mail outlining our plan and telling her what we have done. Tell her it was my initiative.”
“You do not have to take the blame for it. I doubt she will be very mad,” Sky said, typing the note to Anjya. “It is far less than practical jokes I have played on her in the past.”
“She was not saKhan then,” I laughed. “Things are slightly different now.”
“Yes,” Sky gave me a look that was hard to read. Somewhere between appraising and admiring. “They are, Cera Howell. And they have definitely changed for the better.”
I smiled at her, understanding the compliment. I am a Ghost Bear at the top of my clan, a Bloodnamed warrior feared by many. But I still have the thoughts of a Snow Raven running through my head, strict use of potential resources balanced against loyalty to my friends. This is my clan and this is my place.
I said, “We should go get lunch, quiaff?”
There is no place I would rather be.