Tiger Honor, page 4
I tapped my chin with the stylus, then lowered it and wrote, as crisply and clearly as I could manage, I wish to show that a tiger can serve with honor.
That didn’t mention that I wanted a ship, but no one was going to hand over command of a ship to a thirteen-year-old anyway. I had to play the long game. I didn’t want a ship right this minute. (Well…maybe a little.) I wanted to prove myself and earn that ship after I worked my way up through the ranks, so that my family and Uncle Hwan would be proud of how I’d upheld the clan’s reputation.
I handed in my slate, which Ensign Hak accepted with a grunt. She eyed Jee and said, “You have eight more minutes.”
“Sorry, sir!” Jee said, and scribbled only marginally faster than he had earlier.
I chafed at having to wait for Jee. But showing impatience would be unkind, and it gave me the opportunity to study him further. He took his time with each question, brow furrowed in thought. So maybe he wouldn’t be the best teammate when quick action was necessary, but there were other situations where that kind of deliberation could be an advantage. Uncle Hwan had always said that you had to look for what your crew were good at and make the best use of their skills and tendencies.
I didn’t know what the ensign, or Jee for that matter, would have said about the fact that I relied so much on things that Uncle Hwan had said for guidance. The fact was, though, Uncle Hwan was the only starship captain—ex-captain—I knew personally. I’d grown up with stories of his exploits, from the way he’d fought off an advance force of invaders at Jamjari to his exploration of the dangerous star-tides of the Ssang-yong binary system.
Uncle Hwan served as my lodestar. In the past I would have been proud to talk about how he’d influenced me growing up, despite his infrequent visits. Now I would have to settle for having him as my secret guide.
Jee turned in his slate with a full forty-seven seconds to spare. I knew this because Ensign Hak made a point of declaring it sarcastically. Jee only ducked his head and smiled at her. Nothing seemed to dent his good cheer. I could learn a thing or two from him.
Ensign Hak gave both forms a cursory looking-over, then nodded. “Right,” she said. “I’ll have to escort you down, since neither of you have the security clearances to enter the Training Annex.”
“Of course, sir,” Jee said. “Will we be patched into the local network as well?”
She looked at him warily. “Why are you so interested? You want to work in Security, too? Or”—her eyes narrowed—“try some hacking?”
“None of that, sir!” he said too quickly. “Communications. I want to work in crypto.”
I regarded Jee with new respect. You had to be good at both math and languages for that. I did fine with the former, but I didn’t want to pursue it any further than I had to. Still, who wouldn’t want to work with codes and ciphers?
For whatever reason, Jee’s statement made the ensign sigh. “Of course you do.” She had stowed the slates in her desk and come around it to lead us out of the office when the door suddenly opened.
That’s funny, I thought. Shouldn’t it be locked against intruders or random interruptions?
The newcomer, a tall, lanky figure, exclaimed, “Hakyouhavetocomerightnow!” all in one breath.
I peered at the newcomer, then at the shorter, fine-boned person in their wake. Both were clad in gray hanboks, although I didn’t see any insignia to tell me who they were or what they represented.
Rather than snarling at the intruders, the ensign snapped to attention and bowed deeply at the taller one. I did likewise. Jee, on the other hand, regarded the two with a nonplussed expression.
The tall one was on the far end of middle age, with cheekbones so sharp you could have used them to slice wood. Now that I had a chance to look more closely, I also noticed that this one was wearing ugly yellow utility boots at odds with the elegance of their hanbok.
The shorter one wasn’t actually short, and I managed to catch a glimpse of the collar pins that told me she was a girl, maybe sixteen years old or so. It was hard to tell. Her hair was shoulder-length, and she had a sharp, pointy face. Her shoes, while practical, weren’t as conspicuous as the utility boots.
“Investigator, please slow down,” Ensign Hak said with the merest hint of exasperation. “You know no one understands you when you talk that fast.”
“You have to come right now,” they said, “and that means you, too, Cadets Sebin and Jee.”
I stared at them. It was one thing to follow orders from a known and trusted authority, another to do whatever a stranger said. That was another rule my family had instilled in me. “Excuse me, sir,” I said, since I figured I should at least use polite address, “but who are you?”
Ensign Hak paled, but the tall newcomer wagged a finger at her. “I’m Special Investigator Yi, and this is my associate, Kim Min. I’llexplainonthe—I mean,” and they took a deep breath, “I’ll explain on the way.” They turned on their heel and strode out without waiting for a response. Min followed them smartly as if she were used to this. Perhaps she was.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” the ensign barked. “Go with them!”
We hurried after the two. Yi was already halfway down the hall, aided by their great stride, and Min kept pace by trotting. I had long legs for my age, but I didn’t want to leave Jee and the ensign behind. It wouldn’t have been proper.
Hak and Jee double-timed it, so I needn’t have worried about them keeping up. When we were just behind Yi, Ensign Hak hissed under her breath, “That’s the Special Investigator Yi! They were the one responsible for uncovering the conspiracy between Councilor Jung and the Crested Raiders! Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of them.”
I hadn’t. My family had been strict about what I was allowed to watch on the holo shows. Most of the time, I’d been too busy with chores or training anyway. But Jee was nodding emphatically, his eyes wide. And even I knew that special investigators were appointed by the councilors of the Pearled Halls to solve crimes that the Thousand Worlds’ ordinary inspectors weren’t equipped to handle.
“Does the special investigator usually take an interest in cadets?” I asked, since that seemed like a safe question.
“They do not,” the ensign said in a low voice, scarcely audible even to my tiger hearing. “They—” But before the ensign could finish her sentence, Yi and Min slowed down so we could catch up. Hak clamped her mouth shut, to my disappointment.
I only gathered the most cursory impressions of the rest of the Crescent Annex as we passed through it on the way to the training wing. Lots of right angles, and none of the confounding gardens or high windows that would make great haunts for snipers. Aunt Sooni had taught me marksmanship, mostly by hunting drone targets with a blaster, so I could develop my aim and reflexes. I’d asked her about laser rifles, but she said it was best to focus on my natural advantages, by which she meant hand-to-hand and tiger-form combat. But that didn’t mean I hadn’t been taught to be aware of the places where snipers could lurk.
We passed into the part of Starbase Borasaekbam that served as the base proper. This had a different look again from the harmonious gardens of the main starport and the Crescent Annex with its bland walls. Soldiers stood watch at the entrance, but Special Investigator Yi flashed a badge at them and we were admitted without question. Since I trailed behind Yi, I couldn’t see what the badge was, not even its shape. I noted in passing that soldiers farther back were monitoring us on holo.
Paradoxically, the soldiers’ precautions put me at ease, maybe because it reminded me of home. Back at the estate, there was always a family member on security duty. Sure, we had cameras and an AI keeping an eye on the grounds, but the Matriarch had always said that the task was too important to entrust solely to a machine. Here, the one thing that bothered me was that the soldiers accepted Yi’s credentials so readily.
Don’t be silly, I thought as I lengthened my stride to keep up. Yi and their associate Min had sped up again. Surely the Space Forces screened for reliability and loyalty, and never mind the accusations against my uncle.
The naval base had walls painted heaven-blue, accented by spectacular murals featuring starships and binary stars or glowing spiral nebulae or, in one case, a holo of a pulsar. If I allowed my mind to drift the tiniest bit, I could imagine that I was walking out among the stars.
“Got to get you to the docking bay for pickup,” Special Investigator Yi said as we approached another checkpoint.
“Investigator?” I asked, frowning. Despite the promises of an explanation, we hadn’t received one yet. “What about our training?”
“There’s a complication,” Yi said. They glanced at Min. “Do we have time for a briefing?”
Min consulted a slate, then nodded. “The ship’s been delayed as you wanted—I mean, as you predicted.”
Yi looked around, then led us toward a door. The blue light on the outer panel indicated that the room wasn’t in use. “This will do.”
Is this a kidnapping? I wondered. But that was ridiculous. I hated how much I was on edge for no good reason, even though my instincts were screaming at me that something wasn’t right. I’d noticed Min’s stumble in her response to Yi, and I wondered what it was that she hadn’t said. The threat, if a threat it was, must be subtle. I doubted that anyone—especially a high-profile special investigator—was going to disappear us in the middle of a naval base.
There had to be a logical explanation. For example, it would be rude, if not inadvisable, to have a classified conversation in the middle of the hallway where anyone could overhear us. Even other cadets like, well, Jee and myself.
Min entered first and swept the room with a sensor wand. “It’s clear. No bugs.”
Only then did Yi motion for us all to enter. Yi came in last and shut the door behind them. They put their palm to the pad on the door, locking it. The pad lit up red. “Secure enough for my purposes,” Yi said. “Cadets Jee and Sebin, ordinarily you would undergo an orientation and training course over a few weeks before setting foot on a battle cruiser. But in this instance we can’t wait quite that long.”
“But you can spare the time you’re taking for this briefing?” Jee asked, his brow furrowing.
Yi’s mouth curled in a sardonic smile. “Good point, Cadet.” Their eyes flicked toward Min, and she nodded. “The truth is, there’s been a delay in resupplying the battle cruiser Haetae. No one’s going anywhere until the food stores are topped up, so that does give us enough time for this briefing.”
I glanced sideways at Ensign Hak at the whoof of her exhalation. “No one would want a ship to set off with inadequate stores,” she agreed. Her face had gone gray.
I’d grown up planetside, but everyone knew that starships relied on frequent resupply. Even though bigger ships had hydroponics to grow some of their own food, that couldn’t account for the needs of the entire crew. A ship that ran out of provisions was vulnerable, especially if it also took damage to its stardrive.
“So,” Yi went on, “we might as well make good use of the delay. After resupply, Haetae has orders to respond to an emergency call from the colony of Norandol in the Fortress Sector.”
I winced. “Border trouble?”
I’d studied maps of the Thousand Worlds from a young age. Some of my earliest memories were of being quizzed on the different sectors and their strategic significance on a holo map that zoomed in and out. The Fortress Sector was one of the Thousand Worlds’ most dangerous regions. It bordered not one but two of our rivals, the Phoenix Empire and the Sun Clans. Starbase Borasaekbam was located in the adjacent Cinder Sector, and also heavily defended as a result.
Min pulled out a slate and summoned a map for our benefit. Jee peered at it closely, and Min stepped back so as not to impede his view. This at least told me where Norandol was. It must be a minor colony. Probably mining, from the name, which meant yellow stone. I’d never heard of it, and my parents had made sure that I knew the worlds of major strategic interest.
“There’s no one else in a position to help Norandol,” Yi said. “The Space Forces are in the middle of a major action in the Fortress Sector, so ships that wouldn’t ordinarily be called there have to step in. The Haetae is the closest.”
“What’s the emergency?” I asked. It was the duty of the Space Forces to come to the aid of any of the Thousand Worlds. But I knew that it wasn’t always possible to help everyone, and that Space Forces Command had its own priorities.
“Resources,” Yi said. “Min, if you’ll bring up that terrain map?”
Min obliged. I wondered if Yi ever did anything for themself. Then again, given the importance of a special investigator’s duties, maybe it made sense for Yi to have a lackey devoted to taking care of boring administrative affairs.
The original map shimmered into starry confetti, then re-formed into a close-up of a slowly rotating planet. As I’d guessed, Norandol looked distinctly unpromising, with terrain in varying shades of brown and only a few glittering seas. It also featured several impressive mountain ranges delineated by hard shadows.
“Norandol is subject to dust storms,” Yi said, “although with luck anyone on the surface can use weather-magic to escape the worst of the effects. It’s due to one of those dust storms that the planet’s most interesting feature was uncovered—Gate crystals.”
Jee sucked in a breath. I clenched my teeth. The crystals powered our stardrives. Interstellar travel relied on a steady supply of them. I’d never worried about the Thousand Worlds having enough of them, mainly because they kept that sort of information from ordinary citizens.
“Investigator Yi,” I said uncertainly, “shouldn’t this be classified…?”
“You’re going to be on the ship same as everyone else,” Yi said, and Min nodded emphatically.
My unease crescendoed. I was sure that ship captains didn’t share every detail of their missions with their crews. And cadets on a training cruise wouldn’t need to know something like this…would we?
The smart thing for me to do would have been to clam up and keep an eye out for further developments. But I had to find out what was going on. “I’m not seeing why it’s so important to bring a pair of cadets along,” I said.
Jee grimaced at me as if to ask, Do you want them to leave us behind?
“If you don’t make this journey with the Haetae, you could be stuck on the base for some time, the way things are going,” Yi said, their eyes crinkling in apparent bemusement. As if they’d heard Jee’s thought, they added, “You don’t want to be cooling your heels here for months, do you?”
“Of course not,” I said automatically, even though Yi had sidestepped my question. I made myself smile. Probably not very convincingly, since dissembling wasn’t my strong suit, but it satisfied Yi. Min, on the other hand, slitted her eyes at me. She didn’t say anything, though, and I wondered what I could do to ease her suspicions.
“Now that that’s settled,” Yi said, “it’s imperative that the Haetae go to Norandol’s defense. Back when it was just a struggling mining colony, the raiders from the Phoenix Empire and the Sun Clans left it alone. Now, though, we need to get there before they make their move.”
“What exactly is the threat against Norandol?” Jee asked.
“An unusually unlucky solar flare caused their magical wards to fail,” Yi said, “and they lost a third of their hydroponics. Which is why it’s so important that the Haetae be fully supplied, and ready to fight off any interlopers.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. On the one hand, Yi had an answer for everything. Maybe my superiors were thinking ahead. After all, if the usual training couldn’t be carried out due to a military emergency, it made some sense to involve cadets in dangerous situations. If the Space Forces didn’t, they could run out of new blood. And I certainly wouldn’t mind jumping right into the action.
On the other hand, I didn’t like this. I should have felt flattered that Yi had trusted Jee and myself with this information. But it seemed slapdash, and that bothered me. Perhaps my upbringing in the Juhwang Tiger Clan had made me more sensitive to security matters. After all, Jee didn’t seem to think anything was amiss. And Min kept looking at me with those considering eyes, as though she found my reaction curious.
Min’s tablet chimed. She glanced at it, lips pursed, then at Yi. “Looks like resupply is complete.”
I noticed this time that Min was barely deferential to Yi despite his status. I didn’t approve, but if Yi wasn’t going to call her on it, there was nothing I could do. Besides, it wasn’t any business of mine how Yi handled their associate.
Still, there was one thing I was determined to do by the book. Maybe Yi liked playing things fast and loose. Maybe my new captain would be the same way. I hoped not, but I had to be prepared for anything.
“I’d like to be sworn in, then,” I said. Technically I wasn’t officially a member of the Space Forces until that happened, and neither was Jee.
Min spoke up. “Is there really time for this?” she demanded.
I decided I disliked her. It wasn’t too unexpected for an investigator’s assistant to take the rituals of the Space Forces for granted. But her opinion wasn’t the one that mattered. Those rituals were important to me.
“Someoneontheshipwillswearyouin,” Yi said, back to speaking in that rapid-fire voice again.
“But—” I protested. This felt irregular. I’d read the code of conduct and the handbook for recruits. I even had parts of them memorized. But neither of them told me what to do if I was being ordered around by a special investigator who came from another ministry entirely, that of Domestic Security.
I’d thought myself so clever for spending all those days reading the handbook ahead of time. I’d been so sure that it would stand me in good stead if the Space Forces accepted me. Now I realized that the gaps could be just as important.
