CHAPTER SEVEN

Michael Amber asked to speak to Ginny privately the afternoon before she was to depart with the jit’suku emperor. Ginny knew there would be a debrief of some kind, but Michael’s words and actions were a bit more than she’d expected.

“It would be naïve to think your journey with these men will be a smooth one,” Michael faced her across the large desk in his office. “I’m sending along some security measures should you run into trouble. Your security chief is being briefed as we speak, and she’ll fill you in on the particulars of the equipment. Right about now…” he leaned back in his chair and dropped the paper he’d been holding onto his desk, “…I’m supposed to be giving you a pep talk about how your people thank you for your sacrifice, etc, etc, etc. Let’s take that as said, Ginny, and let me talk to you person to person here.” He leaned forward once more, his gaze intense. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. Despite what’s been said and promised, if you decide right before the ramp goes up on that ship that you don’t want to go, all you have to do is signal me, and I’ll get you out of there. That’s a promise you can count on. I don’t give a damn about politics. I’ll get you out, if you want out.”

“I don’t know what to say, Commandant.” She searched for a response. “Thank you for the offer, but as of right now, I’m committed to seeing this through. I’ll remember though, if I get cold feet.”

Michael burst out laughing. “The day the Valkyrie gets cold feet will never come.”

“You have more confidence in me in than I do, Commandant.”

“Please, call me Michael. You’re going to outrank me to a considerable degree in a few days’ time, Empress.”

That was something she still hadn’t quite come to terms with. The reminder of what she was moving toward made her wince.

“Destiny is a funny thing, Ginny. I was born to my fate and had a lot of time to accept it, but you’re just starting down a road that will take your life in a completely unexpected direction.” His insight was startling. “You can either fight it or accept it. My advice is to go with the flow. I never expected to marry either, but when the right person comes along, you’re better off to accept what could be rather than stubbornly cling to what was.”

 

Ginny boarded the jit’suku ship the next day. Tigh had brought her aboard a few times during the past days, to show her where things were and familiarize her with the layout. She’d moved her kit into his stateroom, putting the rest of her belongings that she wanted with her in her new home—it was really odd to think that she was moving to an entirely new galaxy to live—in the hold of the ship. The rest of her crew had done the same as they’d all made preparations to leave the only galaxy they’d ever known.

Each evening, she’d met up with her crew for an informal debrief on the day’s events. She wanted her crew to learn all they could about their new ship, just as a safety precaution. The ship wasn’t the new command they’d all been expecting, but they were a crew, and they were going to be on the jit ship for a while, so it was only smart to learn what they could while they were there.

One thing Ginny hadn’t quite expected was that her family would demand to go along. Not only her mother, but her aunt and young cousin were sending items to the ship, to be placed in the cargo hold. And, on the day of departure, they presented themselves for embarkation and would take no answer other than “Welcome aboard”.

Ginny had to give them all credit. As the voyage began, they seemed to be settling in well. Her crew was a bit restless as the first week of travel time came to a close. They’d had an escort to the galactic rim and had crossed over into jumpspace with little fanfare. The travel time in the jit’suku galaxy would be a bit longer because Solaris Prime was a bit farther from this jump point, but the ship was functioning perfectly, and there was very little for the women to do.

When Henny suggested getting together in the gym for a little martial arts practice, Ginny was only too happy to agree. They set a time, and her crew met up at the gym as planned, much to the surprise of the jit’suku men who were off-shift and using a few of the exercise machines at the time.

Henny led the class, and the jit’suku warriors watched in fascination as the women went through the drills. Ginny was glad of a little exercise, though she was mindful of her condition and didn’t push as hard as she usually would. She was more amused by the men’s reactions to their display and had to keep from laughing a few times at the expressions on some of their faces.

Forgetting them, she focused on her movements, stretching her body and relishing the physical activity after too many days spent idle. She didn’t notice a whispered conversation between a young jit’suku and an older officer. Nor did she notice when the younger man was dispatched, on the double, from the gym area.

*

The young medical corpsman, Pier Sal’Omval rushed onto the bridge, sinking to one knee before Tigh as he sat in the command chair. Tigh sighed in weary annoyance. He’d told the youth, time and again, such a show of respect was unnecessary, but the young medic had his own ideas of what respect was due his emperor and a novitiate of the Zenain Order. Tigh realized early on the youngster was probably more impressed with Tigh’s Zenai training than his position as emperor. It never failed to amuse him when the youth watched his short workouts in the gym area with obvious fascination.

“What is it, Pier?”

“Jin’tal, I was sent to tell you…” A pained look crossed the young man’s face. “Sire, the women are using the gym for some kind of fighting practice.”

Tigh nodded. “I gave them permission to use the gym during off shifts.”

“Yes, sire, but they are fighting.” The young corpsman sounded suitably appalled that human females should be engaged in such exercise. “And your intended is among them.”

Tigh stood abruptly. “Ginny is fighting?”

“She is with them, though I did not see her engaging in combat. Still, Med Officer Jek’al thought you’d want to know and sent me straight to you.”

Tigh was already striding out the door as quickly as his long legs would carry him. “You’re damn right I’d want to know. Ginny should not be risking her health in such a way when she is pregnant.”

The corpsman hopped to keep up, his shorter legs a disadvantage when walking next to Tigh’s superior height. Wisely, the boy kept silent, merely following as Tigh’s temper flashed. He was angry at the thought of what might happen to his reckless human mate, but it was fear for her safety—and that of the babies—that truly ruled his racing heart.

When Tigh reached the gym, he found the human women arranged in an orderly row, practicing blocks, strikes and kicks in formation, being led by the blonde master-at-arms, Henny Sonata. Tigh stopped abruptly in the door, taking in the scene. It looked like every off-duty male was poised around the perimeter of the large space, watching the women with varying degrees of amazement and awe. The women, by contrast, appeared to pay them no mind as they swept through graceful choreographed movements that were startlingly similar to the drills he’d learned in his first years with the Zenai.

They followed Henny, movement for movement, though it was clear she was the most skilled of them all. Still, many of the women had high levels of skill, the ability dropping off slightly as they went down the line.

Tigh saw Ginny moving fluidly on one end of the line. She was skilled, it was plain to see, but he doubted if the women’s pretty movements could translate to effective combat with a man of his size. Tigh strode forward as the women faced away from him, his one thought to get Ginny clear of the danger of being kicked or struck by a misplaced move on the part of her fellow practitioners.

He came up behind her, grasping her around the waist without warning.

The next thing he knew, Ginny was responding as if he was an attacker, moving with quicker moves than he would have credited, slipping out from his hold and moving to incapacitate him, as well. Of course, at this point, his own training kicked in, and he avoided her blow, which could have done some serious damage, but she was overbalanced and falling in a way that might injure her.

Sweeping out and down, Tigh used all his skill to quell her retaliatory moves while bringing her gently under his control. She moved so fluidly another man would be hard pressed to keep them both upright and in one piece, but Tigh was one of the most highly-ranked students of the Zenai warrior priesthood.

“It’s me, Ginny,” he whispered as she came to rest in his arms. He could feel her muscles quivering under his hands as she realized who held her and what they’d almost done. The whole episode had taken just seconds. “Are you all right?”

She swatted his chest. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!” Ginny backed away, and he let her go, duly chastened.

“You’re right. I didn’t think before moving to protect you and, as a result, put you in even more danger.”

Ginny tilted her head, her momentary anger seemingly stymied by his heartfelt apology. She studied his face, her own eyes questioning while the women stood motionless behind them, watching with wide eyes. Tigh knew every warrior in the room was watching the byplay, as well, but all that mattered to him was Ginny. She was all that was important in his existence. Her safety and the safety of their babies was paramount—for so many reasons.

“I was in no danger.”

Tigh’s anger, fed by fear for her safety, battled within him. He strove for calm but knew his eyes flared.

“Fighting practice is best left to those who are not pregnant.”

“We weren’t fighting.” Her jaw set stubbornly, but then she seemed to think better of it and relented. “I wasn’t going to participate in kumite, just in the kata practice. I thought that was safe enough.”

“What is kahtah and koomitay?” He spoke the words phonetically, unfamiliar with the terms for which his translator had no data.

Henny strode forward, her assessing gaze traveling up and down Tigh as she asserted her authority over the exercise class. “Nice moves, Your Majesty.” She grinned lopsidedly as he gave her his attention. “Kumite is the fighting practice. Sparring is another word for it. Kata is what you saw us doing when you came in. Defensive and offensive moves choreographed in ancient patterns. No contact is involved. I wouldn’t want to risk an accident with the captain’s health and wellbeing, I can assure you. There is little risk of injury in kata practice at this level.”

Tigh turned toward the woman who was leading the class, clearly an expert in her field, but risk was risk, and Tigh was unreasonable where Ginny was concerned. He knew it, but he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

“I respect your reasoning, Armsmaster, but it is difficult for me to see Ginny at any risk at all.”

Ginny surprised him by stepping forward, her hand resting on his forearm gently as her eyes searched his. “I wouldn’t risk the babies for anything, Tigh. I want them as much, if not more than you do.” Her soft gaze tightened just a bit. “But I refuse to sit on my ass this entire voyage, getting soft and fat. I need exercise. Even my doctor agrees.”

“What if I like you soft and fat?” Tigh moved closer, his words for her alone, though he suspected Henny might’ve heard, though she made no indication.

Ginny snorted with laughter, her anger fully diffused, and Tigh knew his rash actions had been forgiven. Relief poured through him. He so wanted this relationship to work. It had to work, for their people’s good, but mostly just because he was fast realizing he would be hard pressed to live without Ginny in his life if she ever took it in her head to live apart from him.

“I promise I won’t be in any danger, Tigh. The worst that could happen is a pulled muscle, and I’m very careful to warm up and cool down properly so that doesn’t happen.” She moved back. “Let me just finish the kata section of the class, then I promise I’ll sit it out when they switch to kumite.”

Tigh didn’t want to let her do it, but he knew this female was used to making all her own decisions for both herself and her crew. It would be hard for her to defer to his judgment, though he knew she was reasonable. Still, she knew more about the human fighting form than he did, and he had to believe she also knew her own body’s limits. He would be a fool to forbid her a simple no-contact workout, if that’s truly what it was.

Tigh nodded and stepped back. “You won’t mind if I stay and watch?” He tried to sound casual. “I’m interested to know more about your human fighting forms.”

Ginny seemed to take that statement at face value and even smiled as she rolled her expressive eyes towards the throng of onlookers all around the gym. “Why not? The more the merrier, I always say.”

Ginny resumed her place in the line of women, and Henny moved back to the lead position. She called out some words he had no translation for, and the class was off again, starting with a choreographed pattern of blocks, then a series of punches and kicks, and some acrobatic moves that took them to all four corners of the room before finally settling back in the position they’d started from.

Tigh was entranced. His woman moved like a dream. The fighting moves were somewhat familiar, though the style was quite different than any of the Zenai fighting forms. Still, Tigh could appreciate the way such moves complemented the women’s smaller build and shorter reach. They used their agility and quickness in ways that would counter even larger and skilled opponents. The form was a thing of beauty. As was the woman he watched throughout.

Ginny was graceful and accomplished. While not in the same league as Henny, who led the class, Ginny was by no means a novice at self-defense. Tigh didn’t know how he felt about that. Jit’suku women traditionally didn’t fight in any form at all. Oh, there were some settlements where the women still had to fight alongside the men, but those were mostly hostile, backwards environments. Civilized jit’suku worlds allowed women to live the lives they were best suited to, cultivating the young, teaching, nurturing, and assisting in the running of governments.

Councils traditionally held representatives from all the facets of jit’suku society—the three W’s—warriors, workers, and women. Women held important positions in all levels of society and had responsible jobs. The only avenue they seemed not the least bit interested in was making war, and that was just fine. That’s what the warrior class was for.

At the conclusion of the kata portion of the class, Ginny bowed and left the line of women. Tigh warmed when she moved to his side, as if she belonged there. And he realized, she truly did. She was his woman. His future life partner. His. Just his.

As he would be hers. If she would but accept him into her heart.

“What are they doing now?” he whispered close to her ear, encouraging her to tell him more about their ways.

Ginny watched the class pair off after some instruction and begin sparring practice. Tigh watched their movements with a practiced gaze. He had often engaged in just such practice. In fact, it had been a daily event in his life until he had left the Zenai mountain. He was somewhat amazed that the humans would have such similar teaching and fighting methods.

“Henny usually teaches a few moves then allows open sparring. I think she’s adjusting her methods somewhat today because of the audience. We’re not accustomed to having such a large group of watchers.” Ginny’s voice was pitched low so that only he could hear her comments. “Okay,” she said as Henny called for the group’s attention. “Watch this. She’s going to demonstrate a new move, using Tiggy as a practice dummy, then allow the rest of the class to work on the same move in pairs.”

“We use much the same methods to teach young priest candidates when they first arrive on the mountain.” Tigh thought fondly back on his initial years as a novitiate.

Ginny looked up at him, her eyes questioning. “I can’t imagine you as a priest, Tigh.”

He sighed. “For many years, I thought that was my path in life, but the Mother Goddess had different plans for me.”

Ginny placed her little hand in his discreetly as she stood at his side. The small gesture warmed his heart.

“I’m glad.”

Little bubbles of happiness rose in him suddenly, like nothing he had ever experienced before. It was joy, he thought with bemusement. Clear, forthright, unequivocal joy. He’d never expected to feel such a pure emotion.

“Me too,” was all he could manage between the need to mask the effervescent emotion running through his veins while on public display, and his desire to keep what little he could of their private lives, private.

“Oh, look at that leg sweep. That’s a cool move.” Ginny’s attention was on the class as it progressed, but Tigh noted happily that her hand remained in his. She was starting to get used to him, he thought with some satisfaction.

“Cool, as you say,” he squeezed her hand, “but potentially dangerous for a woman in your condition.”

Ginny sighed heavily. “Oh, all right. I concede your point. Getting thrown around when newly pregnant is probably not a good idea.”

Tigh refrained from chastising her with a good deal of effort, but he was trying to give her some leeway. After all, she had come to him from a totally different culture, where gender roles were insanely disparate. He had to give her time—and give himself time—to come to terms and meet, hopefully, somewhere in the middle.

“What do they call this sort of fighting practice?” Tigh strove to change the subject.

“Henny can tell you much more about it, but this is an ancient form of martial arts. Back on Earth, many centuries ago, martial arts developed among many cultures. Much of what we have still today, is the same—or as similar as we can manage—as what those ancient monks developed all those centuries ago. Tradition is very important among the teachers and practitioners of almost all martial arts. Henny learned from her father. He was one of the grand champions of his day, and he owned and operated one of the finest martial arts schools anywhere in the galaxy. Students would come to him from all over.”

“Did you know him?” Tigh sensed deep feelings just under the surface of her words.

Ginny nodded once. “I was fortunate enough to study with him as a child. Sensei Mick was one of the finest men I have ever known. He was like a second father to me, and Henny was like a sister. She still is.”

“I had no idea you knew each other as children.”

“We grew up together. Our parents were friends. It was their fondest hope that I would fall in love with and marry one of Henny’s brothers. She had six brothers, you know. Of course, they’re all gone now. When Sensei Mick succumbed to the virus, then his sons died in short order, his wife killed herself in her grief. Only Henny is left from the entire Sonata clan. She’s the only one left to pass on the knowledge her father’s line kept sacred for generations.”

Tigh was touched by the woman’s loss. “If I have anything to say about it, her knowledge will be passed on. Her clan will not have died in vain. Together, Ginny, we can be the means for all those who have lost so much to begin to rebuild.”

He could see tears gathering in her lovely eyes as she gazed up at him. Tears that he would never allow in his own eyes, though he felt them in his heart. She would cry for both of them, though he knew she would fight to keep a strong front for her crew. He squeezed her hand, offering what comfort he could.

“It’s a noble goal, Tigh. It’s the reason I initially agreed to your plan.”

“Initially?”

A secretive smile bloomed over her lovely face. “I’ve since found other reasons.”

Tigh liked the mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “Such as?”

“Oh, I think you know.”

“The babies, perhaps?” His smiled broadened as he winked. “Or how we made them?”

The enchanting flush on her cheeks was his answer.