Unrest

"Well good," Ridahne said resolutely, glancing out the window. "The last thing I want is to have to go through THAT mess again, explaining everything all over again. If anyone tries to interrogate me like that again, it will end well for no one, and I mean it. They can ask nicely and let me sit and stand as I please." Nothing would ruin her mood like being imprisoned again; from this point onward, she considered herself to be an asset and an ally to these people, not a captive anymore. Ridahne hoped that Rylie and Gregory understood that she could (and would) walk out at any time if she felt the need to. Not that she felt she would, or that she wanted to, but the option itself was what was important to her. Ridahne had been a prisoner once, and she vowed never again would she let anyone else take her and lock her up again. This was partly due to her inherent Azurei pride--the desert warriors were noted for their tendency to choose to go down fighting rather than to surrender and become a prisoner of war. But more than that, Ridahne had felt heavy steel on her wrists and ankles, knew the harsh words of a merciless warden, felt the pang of malnutrition, and the sinking darkness of a wounded pride. She did not want to know that reality again.

Glad to be moving away from where she spent the night, Ridahne shrugged lightly. "They weren't looking for me. They don't know I'm here, nor do any of them know me, really. But that's the beauty of the Ojih," she said, her tone bittersweet. "They don't have to know me to know who I am and what I've done. One good glance at me and they'll know I'm good as dead. But enough about that. I know they're here for a reason, but I need to know who sent these men and how many Sota are behind this. When we get the chance, that's gonna be our priority. There's little I can do before that. Unless someone manages to capture one...but good luck with that. Anyway, you sleep on it and tell me everything you can. Anything, and we'll go from there."

The trio pulled up to a grocery store, which seemed to be operating as per usual. Odd, as just a few minutes ago they were in a world of devastation and abandoned chaos, and now they'd entered normal urban life. Cars coming and going, children clinging close to their mothers as they skipped next to them, trying to keep up, dogs barking at passerbys from the back seats of idle cars. Surely, these people knew what happened? How could they be....normal? Then again, Ridahne figured, sometimes the best thing to do in the face of adversity was to carry on. Carry on and pretend nothing was wrong.

Ridahne left her pack in the car, but she made sure to stuff it down to the floor of the car and made sure the sword was well hidden. Someone would easily overlook a blue hiking backpack, but nobody would ignore a sword, especially not in a place like this that was very up on the recent technology and very urban. Her gun, however, she took with her, expertly hidden underneath her loose clothes. Ridahne sort of nodded blankly at Gregory as they entered the quiet establishment. In and out. Grab and run. Right.

"Don't just stand there, Torzinei, grab stuff!"
"We're just gonna...take it?" Ridahne looked to the more experienced woman, watching as she moved swiftly through the forced-open storage units, tossing things recklessly aside. Vases, furniture, children's toys, all scattered on the alleyways between rows of units.
"Shit, Heartlander, haven't you ever seen valuable stuff before? Nice things?"
"No...I mean, not really. Not like this..."
"Well congrats, now you have, Torzinei. Now quit your gawking and go find some gold watches or diamonds or something. Just dig through 'em, you'll find something."
"But Ghira, this stuff isn't ours...this belongs to people."
"So did your dinner last night, but I didn't hear you complain."
"That's different. That's food, that's...survival. It's not personal. This stuff belongs to someone, they'll miss it. Look, Ghira, there's pictures in here. Of the people that own this stuff! And the toys? It's broken. You broke it. I...I..."
The older woman rolled her eyes. "Don't you start on me, Torzinei. You'll start infecting everyone else with your shit."
"But Ghira, this is some kid's...what's gonna happen when they come back? They're gonna come back, they're--"
"Ridahne!" Ghira stopped, taking the younger woman's shoulders firmly. "Get out of here. Mind the truck, that's an order."

Ridahne took a quick breath. That was a long time ago, why was she remembering it now? She was probably just tense, just jumpy. Everything was topsy-turvy now, of course she was jumpy. Breathing slowly again, Ridahne finally moved from where she stood for a moment and swiftly swept the aisles, grabbing vegetables, packaged meats, cheeses--anything that would sustain them and keep relatively well for a long period of time. She made sure to grab some canned food too, and energy bars that would be good to stuff in pockets--just in case. After she'd done a quick but thorough sweep, she reunited with Gregory and Rylie--between the three of them, they had quite the supply.

"We good? Let's get out of here. I'm hungry and I'm done with being in public for one day."

Rylie and Gregory wasted no time in the store. They grabbed toiletries, dry goods and things that could be microwaved. Combined with Ridahne items they had everything they needed for the moment.

Eyes darted around, keeping watch for anyone that might be following them. The place seemed fine, shoppers and that was all. Rylie had expected more panic, more chaos and less crowd but she imagined the authorities had done their job in calming the public down. She hadn’t looked at a tv or turned on a radio to know exactly what they were calling the attack but judging from the general feel of the grocery store it seemed that no one was overly concerned. Part of her worried that they were being shielded too much and not worried enough and yet she knew that until they knew the reason for the attack, until they knew more it was better for the regular public to be oblivious.

Gregory paid, the money in his hand making Rylie frown. He didn’t carry cash and never would it be that much. She wondered what else they had given him when he was out of the room.

It wasn’t long before they were back in the car. Gregory made a stop at a liquor store for the beer Ridahne requested and then one last detour as he ordered pizza. The smell wafted through the car, reminding Rylie that she was indeed hungry and rather tired.

The drive to the hotel wasn’t long but Gregory circled and winded around it before pulling into the parking garage. “We will tackle clothes tomorrow. For now let’s get into a room, eat and breathe a little.” He help Rylie out of the car before grabbing the bag of weapons. He zipped it closed, grabbed a bag of groceries and stepped aside.

Rylie grabbed the pizza and a few of the grocery bags and then let Ridahne follow Gregory as she pulled up the rear. She opened her mind. No one seemed to be hiding near by. No one seemed to be thinking about harm or attack. Rylie shivered.

Gregory led them to the desk where he simply signed a paper. It appeared their room was prearranged. Taking the card key Gregory moved to the elevator. He pressed two buttons.

“Here is the deal. We are registered..fake name and such on one floor but we are two floors above that. Seems overly cautious but it is what feels safest right now.”

Rylie nodded. The elevator dinged on the first stop and once the doors closed again it was a short trip to the next stop.
****
The room was nice. A lavish suite with two beds, huge bathroom and tv. Gregory opened the door, checked the room and then let the women in. He deposited his bags down and Rylie did the same. She opened the pizza box as Gregory got to work stashes items in the fridge.

“This is home for the next little while.”

Ridahne grew impatient as they stood at the checkout line and waited for their turn to scan the items and pay. Out on the town, Ridahne was usually not worried about looking a little different; more than her tattoos and multiple piercings, her clothes marked her as someone who did not quite belong in a city such as this one. They were not particularly strange, at least not the ones she wore regularly, but they were rugged, and certainly not 'posh', or whatever word was used to describe the up-and-up fashions of downtown. Unlike most vagabonds, however, Ridahne prided herself on always being clean--Just because she was poor didn't mean she had to be dirty, too.

There was just something about grocery stores that made Ridahne feel unwelcome. She always felt like they were supposed to be happy, bright places full of mothers and their young children, families. She always felt that somehow, she disturbed that white-picket-fence image and noticed that she got more scrutinizing looks in places like this than say, the sidewalks of downtown. Typically, Ridahne would just quietly go about her business and slip away, trying not to call attention to herself, but today was different. The woman felt tense, and this was partly due to her general feeling of tension that gripped her chest, or the still too close memory of what happened today. Even the smoke still clung slightly to the inside of her nostrils and throat, making both feel scratchy and dry.

Ridahne just wanted to get out of here and have a moment to herself to process everything. She had not allowed herself to fully do this just yet--between Gregory and Rylie's interrogation and the need to find a home-base before progress of any sort could be made, Ridahne hadn't found the time to really process the emotional side of things. And emotional it was. After all, this was still her people they were dealing with, her kin. No matter how much she disagreed with their actions, there would always be some part of her that felt a connection with them, in some ways deeper than she could Gregory and Rylie. Growing up, Ridahne was always taught that Azurei take care of their own and everyone else was of second priority. Azurei stick together. Azurei watch out for their brothers and sisters, take care of them in their time of need, Azurei are loyal to the end. Azurei follow their Sota-Sol devotedly.

Apparently not, Ridahne thought quietly with a pang as the trio got back into the car and drove off. Though she was sure of her actions and choices and beliefs, the fact that they were against those of her home country hurt no less. It was then that she realized what casting her lot with Rylie and Gregory meant for her. She was committing treason. By aiding the other side, she was a traitor. Though the woman had been relatively unflappable thus far, she looked solemn in the back seat of the car. Instead of looking out through the window, she studied her slender fingers on her lap for most of the ride to the hotel and she said nothing.

When they arrived, Ridahne shouldered her pack, the weight of it familiar on her back, and grabbed several plastic bags of food. The three came to a simple but elegant hotel room--nicer than Ridahne had been in for some time--and began to unload everything they'd brought. The first thing Ridahne did was fish out some fresh clothes from her bag and claim the shower. She was starving and also was genuinely amused and pleased that Gregory actually bought her a beer and pizza, but she just needed to be alone for a little bit.

The hot water on her skin felt incredible. It was just what she needed to help unwind, and in the solace of the bathroom, she felt free to think more clearly and openly about how she felt about everything. The woman rinsed her ebony curls, but the water that poured from the fistful of hair was gray and sooty. That's when it hit her. There was a bomb that day. The plaza was ripped apart. People died! So many people did not get up to flee the scene. So many people were still there, ghosts of their former selves. A terrible, torrential swirl of black and gray and wet crimson and bright, angry fire. The smoke rose with the voices of desperate, hurting people like a pack of wolves crying angrily to the sky. And somewhere her people were standing from a distance, watching the chaos and turmoil unfold with satisfied nods and victorious grins.

"Kap ni'i au'ta...?" ((What have you done?)) She breathed as her eyes stung with tears. Letting the sound of the shower provide some privacy, Ridahne allowed herself to break down and cry quietly as the hot water ran down her back.

When the Azurei woman emerged from the bathroom, she'd changed into a loose fitting gray tank-top and dark jeans that fit tightly over her legs. More than that, she felt a little better now that she had a moment to sort through everything on her own. The woman took no time converging in on the pizza and cracking open the dark bottle of beer.
"I'm surprised you actually bought me a beer, Gregory." She smiled very slightly, amused. "Maybe you're not so bad after all." She sat on one of the beds cross-legged with her prize. "Where's a pen...?" she said to herself, reaching for the little bedside table with a lamp and a cheap alarm clock, where, in a drawer, was a pen and a pad of paper. "Mmkay," she said through a mouthful of pizza as she began to draw intertwining lines on the paper that were similar in style to the Ojih on her face. "So you bought me a beer and a pizza--I love pizza--so like I said, I'll answer anything you want. In a minute, we're gonna discuss important Ojih marks, but they take time to draw, so give me a minute. Now I'm assuming you haven't heard much about Azurei, if at all--most people haven't. So we should probably start with the basics. Cultural stuff, political structure, that kind of thing. Things you need to know to understand how we work, how we think, what we value. Uhkay?"

Ridahne tipped back the beer, letting the cool fizzy liquid tickle her throat. She loved pizza, and she loved just about anything carbonated--both things that were not easily found in her home country, and certainly not in the Heartlands. "Ok. So what do you want to know first?"

Everything was put away and Rylie sat on the end of the bed. Ridahne went into the shower and for the first time Gregory relaxed. He crossed to Rylie and pulled her up into his arms.

He hugged her tightly. Rylie relaxed in his arms, opening herself up to allow his presence to mix with hers.

I am worried about you.

Rylie smiled but kept her head on his chest.

I know but I am okay.

You scared me. I have never seen you take an attack...I thought...

She looked up at Gregory. “I know.” Her voice was soft. Gregory leaned down and kissed her. Their ability to share thoughts, to communicate within their minds made verbal sentiments somehow more meaningful.

“I’ll take care of our clothes tomorrow. We will need stuff to blend in as we track these people down, assuming they are still here.”

Rylie frowned. “What sort of deal did you get with the higher ups exactly? The guns, the money...the hotel..”

He nodded and slid his hands down her back. “They are hands off unless we need help. The rest was set up. We only report when we have something and we are not supposed to try and apprehend alone. We call for back up when we finally have them.”

Rylie nodded. “Alright.”

Her stomach growled. Gregory smiled. “Grab some pizza.” Rylie laughed. “You too.”

They both grabbed pizza and opened a beer. Rylie sat in a chair and put her feet up. Gregory sat and did the same.

When Ridahne returned from her shower both looked considerably more relaxed.

“Of course I bought beer.” Gregory frowned. “Bad? Of course I am not bad.” He grinned.

Rylie stood and crossed to where Ridahne sat with her pizza. “No I don’t know much so yes...cultural, political. We need to know why they have done this. What motivation they might have had. Start with the basic social structure, political make up, ruler and general laws. We can build from there.”

Gregory opened a beer for himself and then sat back down with his feet up. “We need general understanding of your government.”

"To be fair, our first impression--you know how important those are--was rocky at best. You chained me to a chair after a terrorist attack. You weren't exactly um...you have an idiom for this in English. Scoring any points?" Ridahne was riffing him, but it was more playful this time; her honey eyes twitched in a very subtle smile. "By the way, I apologize in advance for any future misunderstandings of language. I grew up in a bilingual household but for the most part we spoke Azurei, naturally. My English is very good, but there are some things I forget."

Ridahne took a moment to herself, chewing the crust of a slice of pizza as she focused on her drawings. Her hands made elegant, beautiful lines and with the right training, she might be an excellent artist with pen and paper. After a moment she uttered a soft and very neutral, "Mmm..." and then was silent again for some time. In silence, she finished her drawings, tore the pages off of the notepad and set them aside. They would discuss Ojih later.

"Okay," she said, sipping her beer. "Azurei politics, square one." She wrote 'SOTA-SOL' at the top of the page--her letters were smooth and careful. "At the top, there's the Sota-Sol. Always female. The current one is Amai'era-Sol Tanat'ha. She's sorta like...a prime minister, or a councilm--no, she's got more absolute power than that. President? Queen? We'll go with Queen. Around her," she wrote this on the paper as well, branching off to either side, "Are her Taja. Always male. Taja means 'keeper'. Bodyguard. Sometimes they're formally referred to as Taja-Sol. She also," Ridahne drew another branch, "Controls the Azurei Army--Eija. We--They're about equally male and female and are scattered through every district, but their main base is the Capitol, which is sort of it's own district, really. With me so far?" Ridahne started on a second piece of pizza as she drew a line straight down from SOTA-SOL that spread out in 6 smaller branches, each with a different name. "These are the six Sota that rule over the six districts. They are more like councilmen. They deal with smaller stuff within their district, but also stand as the Sota-Sol's...um...ca-cabinet? Am I getting that right? They also have Taja, which is likely what you saw today. Who they belong to, I don't know, but hopefully we can figure that out later. A Taja can override the orders of any Eija, unless the Eija's orders come directly from the mouth of the Sota-Sol herself. Kay? That's our basic hierarchy--it's good to know, and later I'll tell you how to identify who's who."

Ridahne took a breath, focusing on food and drink for a minute again. This was a lot to explain to someone all at once. At home, she didn't ever have to explain any of this and away from home on other planets, few people asked and even if they did, they didn't want to know that much. The questions were usually about her tattoos, the sword she carried, her oddly styled piercings (namely the engraved silver plates that covered the inside of the cupped part of her cartilage at the top), and what brought her to the Outer Ring. She answered these questions with hit-and-miss specificity. But now she needed to be thorough. And boy, was it a lot to get through.

"On to laws. Laws are very much influenced by culture, so there'll be a little of that too. Where to begin...? Ojih. We'll start there. Technically getting one is legally optional, but culturally it's sort of expected of you, like a rite of passage. However, if you get one, you are required socially and legally to um....maintain it." Ridahne hesitated slightly, this was difficult for her to discuss with strangers, outsiders. It felt...so personal. "Meaning, there are certain things that happen in life that you are...that are significant enough that it defines you, in a way. You put those in your Ojih. So...yes, there's rank and all of that in there, but they are very personal. It's how you are honored in battle, how you are publicly shamed, how you express marriage vows--we don't do rings like you do--or the breaking of such vows. Or if you earn a reputation for something or...l-lots of things. And you have to keep it up. I...don't feel comfortable talking about why just yet. Maybe someday. If you omit something, or falsify something, or paint it or put make-up over any of it, the punishment is severe. I haven't heard of anyone doing it, not in my lifetime. To mar someone else's...the offender must mark their own to show what they have done, and they are put to immediate death. If I could imprint nothing else upon you today, it would be this one thing: Never. Damage. An Ojih."

Ridahne wiped the grease and corn meal off her fingertips and finished the last of her beer; she helped herself to another as she muttered, "What else...? What else...Oh! A cultural note: We are a very traditional bunch, if you couldn't tell already. Swordplay is taught like an art over there, but with that said, the military regularly uses guns. Swords are more the...formal weapon, more...ceremonial? But sometimes they get used. You see them most at formal occasions, or if an Eija is off-duty and walking around town, they might wear theirs at their belt. Again, mostly for appearances. In general though, we're behind the times over there. We don't have tons of money as a nation and we're not real big into fancy cars and big computer screens. Point is, if you want to throw them off, go high tech. High as you can. Chances are, it will be over their heads the first one or two times they encounter it. We're also fairly...isolated from other cultures, and that's by choice. As a whole, we'd rather not exchange customs with other cultures, except...in the Heartlands that kind of isn't as big of a thing. We usually travel a lot more out there, off the coast and things, so dealing with other people is just...what we do. Needless to say, the last several years have been kind of a shocking experience for me." Ridahne smiled; a very honest but playful joke.

"Alright, one more thing." Ridahne took the pieces of torn out paper that she'd put aside and splayed them out on the bed before her. The designs drawn on them were very stylized, and shaded in such a way as to represent black, white, and blue. Ridahne went through each mark, describing in detail the location on the face it would be found in and exactly what it represented. They mostly signified rank of some sort, or indication of military service. Some marks, like the blue line touching the brow and extending down to the tip of the nose--the mark for Eija-- were represented both on paper and on Ridahne's own Ojih, if one studied hers hard enough. Hers, however, had a very bold black and white line crossing through and running parallel to it. She never discussed her own directly, however--only what she'd drawn on paper.

"This is a lot to take in, I know. But is this...helpful?"

Gregory chuckled. “Fair enough.” He took a drink of his beer and settled in to listen to the information Ridahne was going to give them.

Rylie pulled off her boots and settled on the bed with her back against the headboard. She held her beer between her hands and listened. She took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. Her head hurt still but she was not ready to take something for it or lay down.

Both listened intensely to Ridahne. The Azurei seemed to have a tiered system that was ruled by a Queen. It was a lot of information.

The laws were even more in depth though mostly centred around the tattoos and piercings. They told their life story it seemed. Rylie found the idea of carrying your major life events with you, readable to those who knew, intriguing.

They seemed very personal and neither Gregory or Rylie pressed Ridahne to tell them more about her own. They both got the message though that they were never to be touched or tampered with.

Gregory sat up and made notes as Ridahne told him that tech was a big weakness for her people. Tech he could do and could easily get his hands on. He liked having an advantage like that.

While he scribbled on a paper and grabbed another piece of pizza, Rylie moved to look over the drawings Ridahne had done.

“I wish I could remember what I saw but after the blast my head is a bit muddled.” Rylie frowned and looked from Ridahne’s face to the papers. She frowned and sighed. “In the morning I might be better at remembering. I will likely dream of it.”

Gregory looked over at Ridahne. “Why do you think they attacked though? Are they prone to acts of terror on other countries? Could we have done something to offend? What drove them to this?”

Rylie rubbed her head. She was trying too hard to remember the men she saw, the people she saw. Getting off the bed she went to the bathroom and closed the door.

Gregory paused in his inquiry to watch her. He lowered his voice. “Ridahne, would you let Rylie do a reading with you again? Only this time instead of her reading you, how would you feel about her feeding you images of what she saw? It would mean she wouldn’t have to try so hard to bring back the memory and you would get a first hand look. I mean those seem very specific. If she misremembers it would mean something different right and we could end up looking for the wrong person or persons.”

His face was full of concern as he looked back at the bathroom. They could hear the sink running.

“Not tonight, maybe in the morning? I will suggest it to her but what do you think?”

Rylie opened the bathroom door and stepped out. Her hair at the edge of her face was a bit damp.

Gregory sat back up, “So motive and such, what do you think?” He looked at Ridahne.

Ridahne could just see the looks of bewilderment on the faces of her two new allies growing as she spoke. It was really a lot to take in, and Ridahne wondered if she would have fared any better if someone had tried to explain the culture of the typical Outer Ring planet to her--Probably not, she decided. Granted, at least she had language down, and some mannerisms she learned from her mother, but Ridahne clearly remembered the day she first landed on the planet Isis--the 'next door neighbor' to this planet. Never in her life had she felt such an overwhelming surge of both wondrous joy and the emptiest, blackest loneliness that came with the uncertainty of starting over.

It didn't help that the Azurei were kind of an odd bunch, even among Inner Ring cultures, or that their ways were so rigid and particular. Slowing down would probably do them all some good, but Ridahne knew she had to get through that stuff first before they could move on to anything else. In a society based so heavily off of culture and heritage, it was the first step to being able to truly understand the mechanisms of their militia, of their Sota-Sol, or their reasons for bombing the plaza.

Ridahne shook her head dismissively to Rylie, her ponytail swishing back and forth against the inoffensively sterile-looking headboard behind her. She could feel, even without telepathic powers, that the other woman was overwhelmed. Heck, she was too. "Don't push yourself," she said genuinely. "It's a fine gift you've got there and it's not worth you getting incapacitated or something over a thing like this. Ojih, I mean. If it came down to it, I could try and track them down just to get a look at them--my brother and I used to hunt and we're excellent trackers. At least in the sand...but I'm sure I could find them if I had to. You just rest yourself. If it comes back, great. If not, we'll find another way," she assured her.

Gregory asked another question, but Ridahne was distracted by Rylie's exit for a moment and the question did not register. A look of sympathy flashed across her tattooed face for a moment; she knew that feeling. Perhaps not exactly--she was no telepath--but Ridahne could sympathize with the shock and the swirl of events that didn't seem real. Uncertainty, anxiety...to say she was not feeling those things at that exact moment would be a lie.

Rylie gone, Gregory dropped his voice low and began to speak again; the sudden shift in his volume snapped her attention back to him. His suggestion was good, and there would be no one better suited to decipher the facial markings than she. "You do have one thing right--we're a precise bunch. If a mark is black instead of white, but the same shape, it has very much a different meaning. Or if it curves up instead of down, or if its higher on the face or lower...it's really an art, Ojih. I think it might be useful if I could see the images personally. I might glean more information that way, too, I think. If she's up for it, I am. Y'know, as long as there's no poking around in my brain or anything."

The handle on the bathroom door turned; Ridahne's head snapped up like a deer in answer to a breaking twig, but it was merely an instinctual reflex. Before Rylie had fully emerged, Ridahne had relaxed and fixed her attention back on her beverage, enjoying the way the bubbles tickled her tongue and stung her throat.

"Motives. Right. Well, the exact motive is hard to guess since I don't know which Sota these Taja belong to--if I did, it would tell me a lot more. But I'll see what I can do," She said, leaning back and extending her long legs out in front of her. The woman kicked off her hiking boots revealing wool socks that were once probably quite thick; now a hole threatened to form on one heel. "I wouldn't say we're prone to this kind of thing, but we are a warrior culture. Aside from being a Sota, being Taja or Eija is to have the highest social status, culturally speaking. At least one young adult from every household is given combat training to some degree, though not all of them are ever enlisted." A pause, then, "I have a theory. And it's just a theory, so don't take me too seriously, but it's a start. I don't think this was random. Random isn't our style, unless we have kind of a running relationship with another country that's...not so good and we want to assert our place 'at the top' if you will. But that's usually if we've been at war with the country before...actually really it's just one that we've had a tiff with for generations. Kind of a different situation. Even then, I guess that's not very random, is it?

Frankly, we just like to keep to ourselves, so if someone went out of their way to come all the way here--and let me tell you, this is a long way from home--they really had to be motivated. I suspect this Councilman had a lot to do with it. I don't keep up with politics. That's the funny thing about being...homeless," she said, the word sticking in her throat a little. "You stop caring about the rules and who makes them and you figure out that life marches on, about the same way no matter who's in charge. But even I have heard some disgruntled remarks in general about this guy. What's his name anyway? Markuson? Devon Markuson? Dan Jensen? Or something. I don't know. But I hear in bars and stuff all the time that people don't like him. Or at least that he's controversial. I really don't know what his agenda is, but whatever it is, it must threaten our way of life somehow. That's my guess."

Ridahne deliberated silently to herself for a moment, her brow wrinkling slightly as she nursed her drink. "That's another thing," she said finally. "We...Azurei, we hate 'Interplanetaries'. We've got a word for outsider, and then we've got one for anyone who's with the Interplanetary Federation--Councilmen, soldiers, secretaries...anyone really. Je'khai is what we call anyone who isn't Azurei, and it's a pretty neutral term. But Ur'khei, that's not a nice word. If you hear it directed at you, then you've been insulted. Anyway, we really don't like the idea that someone planets away can call themselves our leaders, or can go above our Sota-Sol. Besides, they don't understand us, you know? So we don't like them. And that distaste runs the gamut from 'Interplanetaries are the root of all evil' to throwing stones at their ships. I cut a gas line on one of their trucks once. But they meddle too much for our liking. I wonder...this guy's currently in office--or....w-was..." Ridahne knew that the Taja would not have missed their mark if they had surprise on their side and opportunity to plan. The Councilman was dead. Ridahne knew. "But um...did he happen to pass any new laws lately? Or was he lobbying for one? I mean, maybe he was gunning for some law that restricted Amai'era-Sol somehow and pissed her off? Or maybe it's not her, maybe it's just one of the six Sota acting out for her own sake? I could imagine Khaltira getting upset over any kind of tax or trade laws--she was my Sota, in the Heartlands. And out there, trade and fishing is kind of all we've got. That'd be reason enough to strike back."

Ridahne withdrew for a second, and then she became quite transparent as she explained, "I hope it's not Khaltira. I always liked her, she was a good Sota. She took care of us. If it is her, then she's probably doing it for her district, you know? It's not like she's evil. We're not bad people, I promise...a little aggressive maybe, and there's no questioning the dishonor committed today. But..." Ridahne looked like she might weep, but before water could even well up in her eyes, she'd shut herself off again and swallowed her vulnerability. Not here, not now, she thought.

Rylie looked at Gregory. She could feel there was something off in the room, off with him. He was not good at hiding things from her. She could pick up on his emotions without trying. It was just the sort of bond they had, intimate and effortless.

She eyed him but sat down. Her attention back to Ridahne. The woman began to talk about motives but Rylie’s mind kept wandering back to what Gregory might be hiding from her.

Gregory on the other hand as leaning forward, extremely interested in what Ridahne had to say. Her theory that it wasn’t random made his stomach tighten. She talked about being at war and nothing he had found out so far hinted at any sort of disagreement with the two nations. He too had wondered if the Councilman was a connection. Why attack those at the rally and not some monument or such if it was an act of terrorism?

He nodded as she talked about him not being well liked. It was the truth and the main reason he and Rylie were even there. Only someone who caused as much stir and controversy as he did needed an elite security team.

“He is lobbying pretty hard for a few laws. Most aren’t exactly what you might call popular but many are what is going to get him elected. He is basing his platform on it.”

He went quiet, looking down at the floor.

Rylie cleared her throat. “So I need to remember the men’s marks to know who they work for and we need to do a lot of digging on the councilman, find out exactly how his laws and such are going to affect interplanetary relations. That may be our motive.”

Gregory nodded. “Agreed. Ridahne and I were talking. Maybe you could show her what you saw. It would give her a clear picture, no missing lines or colours. She’d see what you saw.”

And there it was. Rylie now understood the odd tension in the room. They had been talking about her. She exhaled slowly. “That is a good idea. For in the morning?”

Gregory nodded. “I think we have had info overload for today. I say we eat, drink and watch tv, avoiding the news. What do you think Ridahne?”

Ridahne nodded, finishing off a piece of pizza. She'd slowed down on the eating and she leaned back, satisfied. I'd been a while since she'd eaten that much in one sitting, and even longer since she'd eaten pizza. If it wasn't so greasy, Ridahne would probably eat pizza several times a week. She was lost in thought for a while as she sat there, enjoying being able to recline somewhere nice and comfortable. At this point, Gregory was right: there was nothing left to do for now but to sit back and take the quiet and peace while they could. And maybe later she would do a little research on the Councilman and see what he was all about and what about him would make Azurei so upset.

"Yeah, I think that's all there is to do at this point. As long as we avoid the news. I don't need to hear people's accounts and speculations of what happened, and if the media is going to bash my people I'd rather not hear about it. It'd just make me angry...Anyway, if we're done here, there's something I need to do..." Ridahne's voice was soft and she avoided eye contact; something was on her mind and she did not want to talk about it, not with those two.

The woman left her place on the bed and dug through her bag to find well-crafted wooden box made of blackwood and inlaid with a pale white wood, both were dense and smooth. It, like the sword, was ornate, elegant, and obviously well-made; clearly, she took care of it. Wordlessly, she took the box into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. A soft click was heard; she locked the door for good measure. Ridahne opened the box and began spreading its contents carefully across the bathroom counter. When everything was set, the Azurei woman took a breath and paused to think about what she was going to do. It was no small matter to add to one's Ojih, and the mark she was about to add was not one she particularly wanted. But she knew she had to anyway, and there was no sense in delaying it.

Ridahne prepped the area of her tan skin that was going to be tattooed, and that's when the reality of her actions set in. Her eyes stung and her cheeks were wet before she knew it. To get a mark like this one again...well...she was not proud of herself and she was overcome by a wave of shame and guilt. She was not afraid of the needle, the pain was the least of her concerns, but it hurt all the same, hurt her soul. As she prepped the small tattoo gun and pulled the trigger experimentally a few times, tears blurring her vision still, she decided that this sort of thing hurt less the second time. She supposed, and this was of some small comfort, that she'd already lost everything that she held dear anyway, or at least most of it. There was little to lose, this time.

Ridahne spent something like half an hour locked in the bathroom, the soft buzz of her compact tattoo gun emanating past the door, intermingling with an occasional sniffle. When she finally did emerge, the box neatly packed again, there was a new blue mark over the black and white one down the bridge of her nose. The skin around the new ink was puffy and red, much like her eyes, though she had made a considerable effort to erase all traces of this before coming out again. She wasn't really an emotionally vulnerable person among strangers and she didn't want these two seeing her break. Despite her efforts, she guessed between their trained observation skills and Rylie's telepathic abilities, it wasn't hard to figure it out anyway.

Ridahne put the box away and settled back down on the bed. "I had an idea," she said. "The TV does internet, yeah? Looks like it does. If my brother's at sea, the ship he works on has a computer that does video chat. I'm...not really uh...supposed to call home, honestly, especially right now when things are a little dicey, apparently, but it's my brother and he might know some valuable information about what's going on back home. It might help things. But he can't know you're IP's, you know? Or he won't tell me anything. So...if he asks, let's just all pretend you're a nice couple who decided to let me stay with you, out of, I don't know, charity or something. I'll try to get him to speak English so you can hear him too, kay?"

Ridahne moved to the television and on the menu selected video calling; a bright green LED at the top indicated that the camera was on and ready. She punched in an email address and a digital ringing tone began to sound. A scruffy older man with skin a little darker than Ridahne's and similar tattoos answered and looked at her, puzzled.
"Hadian Torzinei," she said abruptly and firmly, her accent thick.
"Ce'ta?"
"Hadian! A'ae niuma Hadian."
The gray haired man made a face at her, and in seconds there was a quick flurry of what sounded like harsh words and broad hand gestures that halted almost as soon as it started. The man left and there was some distant shouting, two men calling to one another, and then a young man with short black hair, soaking wet, sat down in front of the camera.
"Ridahne!"
"Ja'ti, Hadi. It's been a while. I'm sorry to call you at work."
"You shouldn't be calling at all...What's with the English?"
"I know, Hadi, I know. I guess you could say I'm trying to get in touch with Mom's side....It's good to see you. You look good, you salty bastard."
"Good to see you too...but you don't look good. Your Ojih, Ri..." The man looked truly pained from the depths of his soul. "What have you done?"
"Please Hadian, I don't want to talk about that. Listen, I'm scared, ok? Something happened here and I want to know what's going on. There...was a bomb. I saw Taja here, I saw them signal it. I don't understand, Hadi, what's going on? People are gonna think I did it."
"Did you??" Hadian looked at her with narrowed eyes.
"No! No. I saw Taja, but I didn't see their Ojih or their Ku'o. Who's here? Why?"
"I don't know, Ridahne. I don't know who you saw, but I've seen a lot of Prizia around here."
"Soldiers?"
"No. Cargo ships. Sea and air." The picture cut out for a minute and returned; the connection was less than stellar.
"If there's gonna be a war, you think Prizia is backing Azurei?"
Hadian shrugged. "I don't know. I'd tell you I'd ask around for you...but Ridahne, you can't call here. Especially if there's...stuff going on, you can't call here. You could get me in trouble. Get yourself into...more trouble. You lay low. Are...are you in a hotel?"
"Yeah, uh, this couple I met at a restaurant took me in after all this stuff happened. People gave me weird looks so they gave me somewhere safe to go. They're nice people."
Hadian sighed and sat back in his chair, the rusty metal frame protesting loudly with a gritty squeal. "You know I can't help you Ridahne. I can't send you money, and I can't give you information, nothing much. I think I can send you some food or something--"
"No, Hadian, that's not what this is about. I'm doing ok, I've seen so many things. Besides, IP post is expensive. Save your money and treat yourself. I guess I just wanted to know what was going on. I should go. Take care of yourself, Hadian."
"You too, Ridahne."

The screen went black, and Ridahne switched over into television mode, though she passed the remote off to Gregory and Rylie--she didn't really know what to watch anyway. "Well...that was...interesting. And troubling. Sounds to me like Azurei has an ally. Bad news, if you ask me. This is a mess, I tell you. A mess."

Ridahne left to head back to the bathroom and Rylie was curious as to what she was doing but did not press. Something was bothering the woman and Rylie didn’t need to be able to read emotions to know that.

Gregory too watched her as she went to the bathroom, box in hand. When the door closed he crossed to the bed and laid out next to Rylie. He reached out and pulled her in. “How’s your head?”

“Oh no. You don’t get to deflect. How could you think I wouldn’t know you were talking about me?”

Gregory sighed. “I wasn’t trying to hide it. I just didn’t know how she would react and you seemed so tired. I just wasn’t thinking.”

Rylie smiled and looked up at him. “It is alright. Sometimes you just need to be reminded it is hard for us to have secrets.”

“You mean me. I can’t read your thoughts, remember?” Gregory leaned down and kissed her.

The buzzing from the bathroom got both of their attention. Both frowned a little. It was none of their business but it didn’t mean they were not curious or concerned. When Ridahne came back out neither said anything but both noticed the red eyes and new tattoo.

They both sat up and watched as she called her brother. Gregory was uncomfortable, as if he was watching something far too personal. Her brother’s reaction to her tattoo, her altered Ojih made them both look down at the bed. The pain in his voice pulled at Rylie.

“Yes a mess.” Gregory agreed as he took the remote and put on a sitcom.

Rylie looked up at Ridahne. Her words were on her lips but she said nothing. It would wait for another time.

She laid back on the pillow. “Tomorrow will be a big day, lots of research.” Her head still pounded and she wanted to sleep.

Gregory pulled Rylie’s head into his lap. His hand ran through her hair. “Yes though you were able to tell us a lot Ridahne. Thank you.”

"You better be thankful," Ridahne said, equal parts in jest and in earnest. She did mean it, but it was also the sort of thing she would say to a friend. This, along with her generally blunt attitude and the very short conversation she had with the old man via video chat gave the impression that Azurei were typically a little rough around the edges. Heartlanders, Ridahne knew, were even more so. They had to look out for themselves out there, and it was not an easy place to live for sure. Over generations they became a tough bunch, prone to sharp words and rough hands. "I'm not sure either of you know what I'm doing for you. I'm not sure you understand. I guess...you can't, really. But....just know this isn't an easy thing." And then she lowered her voice as if she were maybe speaking to herself and muttered, "I hope it's worth it."

The woman lay back in her bed, the dull roar of the sitcom filling the space in the room. She was thankful for it. Ambient noise in the room eliminated the need for talking, and Ridahne did not want to talk. Not anymore. Besides, the sitcom was loosely entertaining, at least. It reminded her of when she, Hadian, and their mother would sit around their little computer and try to stream something to watch and practice their English. Of course, it had to stop to buffer a lot, and sometimes the internet wouldn't work at all, but it was fun when it did cooperate. Ridahne missed her mother. And her father, and Hadian. She wished she could see them again, wished she could be on the sea with Hadian, or go hunting with him. She wanted to return to normal, to the way things were.

The woman fell into a much-needed but uneasy sleep, her dreams occasionally flitting back to crowds and curtains of smoke. Her subconscious wandered back home, too, to the moonlit desert, to a man with a chipped sword that towered over even her. "Make your choice, Ridahne Torzinei."
"How can you make me choose?"
"Your orders are clear. Make your choice."

"Je..." she said softly, her own voice waking her in the middle of the night. It took a while for her to acclimate and to realize that she'd spoken both in her dream and in reality, and even longer to remember where she was. Right. With Gregory and Rylie, in the hotel. She glanced over to see that they were both alright out of habit and, with all the silence of a breath of wind, she stood and moved to the window, which they'd kept shrouded for now. Letting her hair down, she silently cracked the window open about halfway and stood there for some time, breathing the sharp night air and meditating on the day's events.

The city felt so big from where they were. All the glittering amber lights, the dramatic peaks of the skyscrapers, the distant movement of insomniacs below as they drove through the mazed streets. So beautiful, she thought. Despite the life still happening in the streets, the city was so quiet in comparison to the daytime, so still. So serene that she did not believe the tragedy could be real. Despite the calm, Ridahne did not doubt that there were whispers in every household about what happened, that every news channel would be spinning this story for days to come.

Ridahne silently moved back into her bed, crawling under the polyester covers this time, and went back to sleep.

The woman awoke early, as was her habit, and made coffee. She made herself a breakfast of bananas and yogurt as well, which she ate while padding through the hotel room aimlessly; she was not used to being cooped up in a space like this, but she didn't quite feel comfortable venturing outside either, for fear that she might be found by a group of wandering Taja, or perhaps that citizens might mistake her for the real criminals.

Both Rylie and Gregory were aware that things were touchy for Ridahne but the woman’s words brought a fresh perspective for them. It was true, neither really could understand what she was doing for them but Rylie had a hunch that they could never be made to fully get the impact. Her eyes were on the fresh marking on Ridahne’s face and knew that it accentuated her words. ”This isn’t easy..”

Rylie and Gregory did their best to make themselves ready for bed. Without clothes they had to make due with removing belts and socks to become more comfortable. They climbed back into the second bed, covers up and Gregory took the remote. Rylie laid on his chest and drifted off.

Gregory was up shortly after Ridahne. He said very little to the woman. He liked to take his time in the morning and typically enjoyed the solitude it afforded him. He crossed to one side and began a series of pushups and situps. He didn’t do enough to work up a sweat, just enough to get the blood flowing. He quickly showered and with a nod of thanks took a mug of coffee.

When Rylie awoke Gregory was gone, the sun was coming in through the crack in the curtain and the room smelt of coffee.

Rylie sat up in the bed and looked around. “Good morning.” She stretched her arms. “How did everyone sleep?”

Her barefeet hit the carpet and she walked towards Gregory. Planting a kiss on his head she then moved to get coffee for herself. Next stop was to grab a piece of cold pizza. She sat.

Gregory watched her. “I slept well enough. You look tired still.”

Rylie smiled, “I always look tired.”

He grunted and took a drink of his coffee.

Ridahne did not say much to Gregory when he awoke. She would glance at him occasionally, watching with passing interest as he did a quick workout, but otherwise let him alone. She, too, liked to take time to gather her thoughts in the morning and to sort of 'center herself' to prepare for the day ahead. Typically, she might eat, have some coffee, and then find a good place to practice her bladework. Some days, she would be aggressive with her training and would slash at imaginary foes until she broke a heavy sweat while other days, she would focus on the precision of wielding a sword and the grace that comes from unity between steel and flesh. Both served to relax her in different ways, and she really wished she could do a little of the former, right now. In a nice but altogether small hotel room, however, that was not practical. She wished, too, that she could go out for an early morning hunt like she used to...there really was nothing like the red dunes set ablaze by the pale morning, and it was always so deliciously cool at that time of day.

"I'll be back Hadian. I'm gonna try the Southwest, this time. Maybe I'll have better luck."
"See you tomorrow, then? Take care of yourself, Ridahne. Don't make me come looking for you, I'm going out to sea tomorrow night." Hadian kissed his young sister's forehead. "You can handle that rifle all right?"
Exasperated, Ridahne rolled her eyes. "Yeeeesss, Hadi. I know what I'm doing, don't worry. Mitaja!" At her call, a 70 pound cat with two black rings around each foreleg and a black tipped tail and ears bounded over and smoothed its tan fur against the young Ridahne's hip while she forced her head under her master's hand for a pet. "Can I take the jeep?"
"No! Absolutely not, you're not even tall enough to see over the dashboard. Taemas already said you can borrow his horse. Now go, before the sun comes up!"

Rylie awoke some time after Gregory; Ridahne imagined the woman needed the rest after the chaos of the day before. She looked better, at least. They all did.

"Oh I slept...fine." That was about accurate, really. She spent about half her night in uneasy dreams, though after she woke up and cleared her head a little, she got some good and much needed rest. It was fine, in the most neutral sense of the word. "You both look better," Ridahne riffed playfully, though her face only showed a very slight smirk. Ridahne wondered privately if Rylie could sometimes pick up other people's dreams with her telepathy, even without trying. Maybe other people's dreams colored her own.
"Rylie, I wonder..." she began, her curiosity genuine. "Can you...do you ever pick up other people's dreams?" Ridahne didn't know how telepathy worked, really, aside from what Rylie had already told her, and she figured if she was going to be with this couple for a while, she may as well take the time to get to know them.

Ridahne nibbled at a stick of mozzarella cheese as she sort of aimlessly meandered around the room, crossing to the window, peering out of it absently. Ugh, she needed to go running, or sparring, or something. Finally taking a seat on the corner of her bed, Ridahne asked, "So speaking of dreams...you think you uh...remembered anything from yesterday? About the Taja? If you wanted to try..." she waved her hands as she tried to find the right word. "Transferring the images to me, I'm okay with it if you are. Just...you know, as long as you don't poke around in there," she said, tapping her forehead.

Rylie nodded though she got the sense that Ridahne’s sleep had not been deep or overly restful. She did her best not to read the emotions that came off the woman but it was harder to remain closed off when she was trying to relax. She sipped her coffee.

Gregory chuckled as Ridahne commented that they both looked better. Rylie looked up over her mug at Ridahne. “I could if I wished too but my own dreams tend to take over and in my sleep I cannot control what comes to me. Most times my dreams mingle with those close by, namely Gregory.”

Her head tilted a little as she looked her over. “Do not worry I did not read any of your dreams from last night. My sleep was oddly devoid of dreams. I believe it had something to do with the blast and my mind finally shutting down to heal, as it were. It was severely overtaxed.”

Gregory had his eyes on his notes. He was scribbling furiously on a piece of paper. Rylie frowned. She didn’t need to be a telepath to know that Ridahne was restless but the vibes she was getting from the woman began to cause her own body to grow antsy.

Rylie tried to shrug it off, to concentrate on her cup but it was no use.

Her eyes flickered back to Ridahne as she sat on the bed and inquired about the idea of transferring her memories. She smiled. “I will not go searching your mind for things Ridahne but you should know if we do this I will be very open to anything you might think. I will be showing you my memories and anything you picture, remember or feel I will feel and I won’t be able to shut it off. In order for you to get the best picture neither of us can be very closed off though you can easily guard yourself by only concentrating on what I show you.”

Rylie stood and crossed to where Ridahne sat on the bed. “Know that I will not be trying to get into your head but I can’t stop you from showing me things.” She sat down. “If you understand that risk I am ready to show you what I saw.”

She put her hands out for the woman to take. Her face was calm, her voice sincere. She did not want Ridahne to worry that she intended this as a ruse to poke around or infiltrate her thoughts in any way.

Gregory put down his pen and turned to face the women. He wasn't about to add his two cents. This didn't involve him at all. The information from it did but the actual process was something he was not allowed to have an opinion on. He had one, of course and he was tense waiting to see what the woman's answer would be but he did not voice anything.

"Well," Ridahne smiled softly and spoke drily, "I hope you don't get snippets of my dreams. I tend to fall a lot." It was more of a joke than it was serious, but Ridahne did often dream of falling--everything from tripping down the stairs, floating helplessly away from a spaceship, or falling from cliffs. Once, she even fell to the ocean floor, though she was able to breathe underwater and move about freely. She remembered specifically the feeling of beautiful weightlessness and freedom, and the empty blue plane before her. It was so peaceful. "But I...can't imagine what it must have been like for you." In a moment of uncharacteristic softness, Ridahne spoke quietly, her eye's meeting Rylie's. "A'aita. It's Azurei for 'sorry'." And Ridahne meant it. It made her feel awful that she was in any way tied to the people who did this, who committed such an act of...indecency. And though she knew there wasn't much she could have done, she felt a little guilt anyway. It just wasn't right. None of it.

Even though Ridahne supposed she didn't have anything really to hide, she didn't like the idea of her thoughts accidentally spilling over into Rylie's. Sure, she could try and control the flow of thoughts and images, but Ridahne had no experience in these things, what if she slipped up? What if, because of her attempts to stay focused, she unwittingly began to think about other, more personal things? The woman gave all of this some serious thought. It simply wasn't the nature of an Azurei to be that open with an outsider, or really anyone they didn't know that well--that's what Ojih were for. An Ojih provided enough information about a person so that nobody needed to really pry. To know someone beyond their marks was a privilege, one earned over time.

But maybe it was time Ridahne stopped adhering to such social constructs. After all, she was not home anymore, and if she was going to be honest with herself, she was really only half Azurei. Genetically, she seemed to have inherited more of her father's traits than her mother, as did Hadian, and she identified herself culturally as Azurei for her entire life. And now that she'd been away for so long...well...maybe it was time she explored the other side of her heritage.

"Yeah," Ridahne said with a resigned sigh. "Alright. I guess it can't hurt. This is terrifying stuff, you know," she said, half serious. The woman took Rylie's hands and took a minute to focus her mind as Rylie opened up the connection. To do this, she used the same memory that she used before, the one of her on the beach on a beautiful day with the sea spraying up into the air. She didn't mind if Rylie saw it, and it was something concrete enough that she could focus in on it easily enough.
"Okay. I'm ready. What did you see?"

Rylie smiled a little as Ridahne apologized in her native language. “It was not you who did it but I appreciate the empathy.

Ridahne took her hands and Rylie closed her eyes. She brought herself back to yesterday. Back to the crowd, the noise, the press of bodies.

For a moment a beautiful beach appear but Rylie pushed it away and brought the crowd back.

”Happiness, excitement, some anger...”

Memory Rylie walked through the crowd as if they were ghosts. Ridahne was next to her.

“In large crowds I mostly get the surface emotions. That is fine since I am just surface scanning for those who might cause problems.”


She walked on.

“We skirted this side and then down towards the vendors and such. That was when I felt them first.”

Memory Rylie stopped and the clarity shifted. Suddenly everyone was more solid. The voices, the councilman’s voice was louder. Rylie let the scene play out for Ridahne.

Before her stood men. Rylie was stopped. She could see them and they looked like Ridahne. Rylie’s eyes were on their faces, then their movements. She flicked back to their faces. She didn't know what they were doing but the flood of emotion at her...the calculating, the anger, the focus...told her something was very wrong.

The memory stopped as if someone hit a pause button.

Memory Rylie turned to Ridahne. “I will hold it here so you can look them over. You can only see what I saw, nothing more. The parts of them you cannot see right now do not exist in the memory.”

She stood, waiting for Ridahne to look the men over. She hoped that the woman would be able to glean something from the memory, some clue that would help them.

"I know it isn't," Ridahne admitted. "It's just...we have a saying out there: Azurei ni au'jai, sai'je tamu i'okha. Azurei are many, but stand as one. It sort of means...well it means a lot of things. It means we look out for our own, but it's also about the sense of unity...group mentality, I guess. What I mean to say is...I guess I can't help but feel guilty. Azurei did this, and I am Azurei, you know?" Ridahne felt it was a difficult notion for her to explain, she lacked the true words in English to fully express the concept, and it would take a long discussion of society and culture to explain how that really works and why.

Ridahne steadied herself, and suddenly a rush of images that were not her own flooded her mind. It was jarring at first to have her head be taken over like that, to have no control over where these thoughts were leading. But it was okay, she told herself. Strange and foreign, but okay. The other woman took her through the event; blurry ghosts of real people milled around them, unaware of their own fate. It felt too real. Ridahne couldn't help but mutter softly, "No...run, all of you..." But the minute the Taja came into view, her focus sharpened. Rylie halted the image like pressing pause on a movie and Ridahne scrutinized them carefully.

They definitely were Taja. There was no doubting that. Their clothes were certainly traditional Azurei--black and blue with small detailing in white or silver--and they were outfitted like soldiers. Traditional civilian wear for men was often a wrapped knee-length sarong and a very ornate collar to adorn the shoulders and chest, but soldiers had crisper, more fitted garb with less patterns and embellishments. And these men had everything--the belts, the boots, the loose black pants, and all the silver detailing on the shoulders of their indigo shirts. Swords hung at their backs, at home there like the sheath of each one was merely a part of the bearer's clothing.

Ridahne took a minute to remember her own body in the real world and composed herself enough to take one hand away from Rylie's, the other firmly in place still, to reach for a pen and paper lying on the bed next to her. "I'm going to draw them...hold that there for a minute..." Ridahne sketched what she could of some of the Ojih and took a couple quick notes in characters that were not of English. Finally she said, "I got it. That's all I need," And let go of Rylie, breaking the connection. After taking a moment to return to herself, she took a look at her notes, as she hadn't really thought about what she'd seen in the vision but rather just drew what she saw. At first, her dark brow wrinkled, but then as realization hit her, Ridahne broke down uncharacteristically into wet, salty tears.

The woman did not sob. She was not hysterical, but she was hurt, and it showed, even as she buried her face into her long hands. This episode did not last long; the woman was practiced in burying her emotions, especially when there was another task at hand that needed to be accomplished. Ridahne moved to the window and gazed out it, though she never really looked at anything beyond the glass.
"I know one of them," she said finally, quietly. "I even used to spar with him on the weekends. I...can't believe he's Taja, now..." She turned to face them finally. "If I told you who he is...your people would investigate him, wouldn't you? Arrest him? Execute him?" The woman grit her teeth; never before did she feel so torn between her two loyalties. When the criminals were nameless faces that she did not know, she stood wholeheartedly with Rylie and Gregory, with the people who lost their lives yesterday. But she knew one of them, now. They were friends. How could she betray him? And how could he do a thing so horrible?

A decorative wicker ball sat amongst other little trinkets in a wide, flat bowl underneath the TV; Ridahne, in utter frustration, took said ball and hurled it with all her might across the room with an angry growl. The little decoration made a thud but otherwise bounced harmlessly to the floor and rolled underneath one of the beds, as it was too light to do any damage to the wall. Ridahne touched the fresh blue tattoo above her nose; Oh, she deserved it now. If she hadn't already earned that mark, she was about to, beyond a doubt. Defeated, and with a pained sigh, Ridahne admitted, "His name is Ajoran Tavahaisi. He's from the Pa'ora district--the central one. He belongs to Sota Gevera. Two others belong to her, the other two belong to Sota Khaltira, from my district."

There. It had been done. And it hurt, but she was doing the right thing, wasn't she? ...Wasn't she?

Memory Rylie stood there and watched Ridahne as she looked around. Her expression was unreadable. Rylie’s hand played with her ponytail. What if what she saw wasn’t enough to help them? What if they remained unidentified? What then? She couldn’t help but frown, uneasy setting in.

Rylie inhaled and steadied the memory as Ridahne stated she was going to draw what she saw. Rylie was relieved that at least that meant there was something to see. She also now worried that Ridahne was not going to like what she saw. What if they were her friends? Her family?

The loss of the connection was harder for Ridahne to adjust to than Rylie. She simply sighed softly and blinked a couple of times. She watched the woman’s face and tried hard to block the emotion that started to come at her in waves as Ridahne’s face grew wet with tears.

Gregory was uncomfortable. He watched the women come back to the present. He winced a little as he watched Ridahne and the look of her that came over her face. She looked not just sad but almost devastated but what she had drawn.

Rylie looked down at her hands. She hated what Ridahne felt. She tried to block the hurt, the pain but it didn’t help. The emotions were too strong and the connection too fresh.

By the time the woman stood and moved to the window the emotions were in control and being stifled. Rylie rubbed her hands on her thighs.

Gregory frowned. “Well...with a name we would investigate...” He stopped talking as Ridahne threw the wicker ball and stated the man’s name.

Rylie could only look at her hands.

Gregory scribbled down what Ridahne told her. He looked up at her. “I am sorry. I had hoped they would be strangers to you.” He made a few more notes.

Rylie looked up. “These Sota...they are working together on this attack? Or could these men rebels of some sort, taking matters into their own hands?” She was still trying to find motive for the attack.

Gregory picked up his phone and began typing away. “I am sending in this info and our people will start watching those coming and going. They already were but a name and place of birth are more helpful.”

At this point, Ridahne just looked bitter. She sank down to the floor, leaning against the wall with the window in it, knees drawn to her chest. Amber eyes ablaze, the surge of emotion coming off of her had shifted form shock and terrible loss, to a simmering vehemence. She was angry at Ajoran for being a part of the atrocities committed today. She was angry that Khaltira, the Sota she respected for so many years, would order the death of so many innocent people. She was angry at her lot in life, that she was to forever be a ghost wandering between the two worlds of her home culture and the very modern Outer Ring lifestyle, never to belong in either one. She was angry that she had no choice but to betray those that she cared about.

"Azurei is a small country, compared to the ones here. And those of us that get to travel between districts, or spend any time in the military...we meet a lot of people. The likelihood that I know these men, have trained and fought with these men is much higher than you think. Like I said, you cannot begin to understand the situation you have put me in by asking me for help." Ridahne paused, inhaled slowly and exhaled slowly; there was no point in stirring the pot any more. "Hei otejic o'e hei otejic--What's done is done. There's no going back on it now." The woman looked up from her knees and made eye contact with both Rylie and Gregory, alternating between the two. "But there's one thing you have to promise me. If you catch Ajoran, I don't care where he's being held, you will take me to him. I want to speak with him. If your superiors don't like that idea, tell them to take it up with me, I don't care. I just have to speak with him before you execute him. That's what you do, isn't it? For something like this? I don't know your laws out here, but where I'm from, it's execution. I don't know, whatever you do to terrorists out here, you just have to promise me that, okay?"

Aside from the fact that she would be able to glean more information from him than anyone else, Ridahne wanted to know what would have compelled him to do something like this. Then again, she supposed as a Taja, especially, he could not disobey Sota Gevera's orders. Not without a horrible consequence. As much as she hated what he'd done, Ridahne also did not wish such a fate on her old friend; to be severed from everything and everyone and to be marked a traitor was what Ridahne imagined death felt like. But she made her choice, and she stood by what she believed was right. Couldn't he, also? She could have helped him. She could have looked out for him and taught him the proper way to bum interplanetary rides on spaceships off short-handed captains. She could have and Ridahne certainly would have if he'd made such a choice. But he didn't. He followed his orders. He helped kill so many people...

Ridahne felt a stinging in her nose; the telltale sign of imminent tears that, sure enough, welled up in her eyes again. She blinked back the salty fluids before they could fall, however. There would be a time in the quiet stillness of night to grieve over her friend and the event itself, but now was not the time.

The woman took a steadying sigh and dropped back into her typical cold-but-collected facade. "They're under orders, not rogues. If they were acting on their own, they would have had to have been disowned by their Sota-Sol and their Sota, first. They would have had a mark like this," Ridahne said, tracing with her finger the black and white lines that crossed under the fresh blue one she put in the night before. She pointed to the paper she'd sketched on. "Their Ojih are clean. Sota Gevera and Sota Khaltira are working together...and there may be others, I don't know. I can't tell from yesterday, all I know is that those two and their keepers came a long way to do this. They've got to be here on this planet, the Sota. Not here, noo-hoh. Nowhere close. But they're on the planet at least. Probably this country...."

A thought struck her; Ridahne looked to Gregory. "Tell your people to be paying careful attention to landing stations--anywhere space ships or airships might land. Watch them, and watch them extra carefully at night. If they plan to get off the planet, it'd be a good way to..." The next word sort of stuck in her throat for a split second; it felt uncomfortable on her lips. "Ambush them."

Rylie stood and paced a little. The energy in the room was making her anxious. It was a mix of resolve, focus, shock and loss with added anger. It made her stomach knot and the room feel very small.

Gregory looked up and over to Ridahne. He frowned slightly. “Not policy to let a civilian question a prisoner, especially not in this sort of circumstance but...” He looked over at Rylie. “But we have circumvented the rules so far and managed to convince my superiors that your input is crucial so this won’t be any different. I am not going to ask you why, I am sure you have your reasons but I can promise if we can get to him, we will.”

His eyes flickered up to Rylie. She looked away.

“They won’t execute him. There will be a trial, and it will be a spectacle given the event that happened. They are terrorists and he will be questioned, imprisoned but not likely executed.”

Gregory couldn’t help wonder if they would change the rules, even briefly to make an example of these people.

Rylie crossed her arms, an outward show of the way she was trying to hold off the emotions that were coming towards her. She had a strong condition with Gregory and after the sharing of her memory the connection was a bit stronger with Ridahne. It made it harder to hold them off.

The pair went very quiet as Ridahne told them that they could not have acted on their own or they would bear a mark like she did. And for the first time it occurred to them that Ridahne was travelling but likely not because she wanted to be away from home. If what was gleaned from the conversation with her brother and what she told them about her mark was true, Ridahne was not welcome by her people.

Gregory chose to let the subject go unquestioned. “So there is a conspiracy...a plan against us...the councilman likely....hmmm.”

Rylie bit her lip to hold back the urge to ask Ridahne about her mark, about why she had it. She must have been projecting a little as Gregory turned and flashed her a stern look.

“You got it.” The man nodded and stood, taking his phone into the bathroom. He had people to give information to and he wanted to act on what Ridahne told him immediately.

Rylie watched him leave and then took her place back on the edge of the bed.

“I-I am sorry. About what you saw I mean. I wish you hadn’t known them...wish well....” She rested her elbows on her knees and looked down at the floor.

She regrouped, steadied herself before looking up again. There was a slight smile on Rylie’s lips. “So I never did ask what you were doing here, on the planet that is. You a wanderer? A traveller?” She was trying to delicately approach the subject.