Burying the Hatchet
Thanks go out to Kim for doing this one with me. I so hate leaving things unresolved. Thanks, Kim!--Maer
Sunday, 26 Oct 2521
Village, Novaya Rodina
Georgia (Huang Long) system
Toward sunset
The temperature was dropping with the failing light and we were running low on firewood. I left our bivouac to scare up more fuel and trudged through the village pulling a sled I'd found in our initial foray for wood. I scavenged what I could, a pallet here, some fence posts there. Wood piles were few and far between. The village was surprisingly intact despite Roskov’s raiding parties and very little seemed to have been burned down. Still, ready-cut firewood apparently was one of the first things taken, along with the livestock.
The village was deserted, which also jibed with Roskov’s account of the inhabitants “leaving” after they had nothing left to give. I had no way of knowing if the villagers would return with the spring or if they’d all ended up in a shallow grave courtesy of Roskov. Taking from the already-dead what’s needed to survive was one thing, but robbing from the living what they needed to survive was something I wasn't willing to do. Not even under these conditions. So I left the homes unmolested, filling my sled with what loose wood I could find, and was in the middle of dismantling a tumbledown rabbit hutch when Kiera found me. I heard her footsteps crunching through the snow and after a quick look to confirm who it was, I turned back to my task. If she wanted to talk, it would have to be while I worked.
---
"Need help?" Kiera asked. She had wrapped the remains of an old shirt she had found around her head like a scarf, her hands bandaged in fresh gauze with the fingers free.
---
I gauged her tone, her expression, her stance. Seems genuine.
"Please," I said, willing to chance it. "Hold that steady for me?"
I pointed at the side wall of the hutch where it attached to the villager's cabin.
---
Kiera put her weight against it, holding it still. She was still trying to process what had happened, from the peace of a man's arms to the pure disgust at a madman's plans to seeing the Gift's crew in person, broken and ravaged climbing from the dome. "So, what happened in there?" she asked softly as the little mechanic began to tug at the wood.
---
I nodded at her when she grabbed the boards and tested the rest of the hutch with a tug and a pull. I took a step back and slammed into the opposite wall of the hutch with a reverse spin kick. I followed through with a piledriver punch and the hutch was in pieces. I answered her as I picked up the scattered wood.
“The GULag? Or the Gift?”
I stacked the wood onto the sled with care, leaving no gaps. I didn’t want the load to slip and slide around as I pulled it over the ice.
---
"Let's start with the Gulag and then go backwards to the Gift," Kiera answered, handing the pieces as she could to Rina.
---
"Sure," I said, taking the pieces and stacking them. "Just keep up with me."
I pulled the sled from the yard and went on to the next cabin in the row. Even though abandoned, the cabins were for the most part tight and trim. Windows were shuttered tight against the outside and the decorative siding still held traces of paint. There were other touches to the village that told me it had once been prosperous. There was a healthy prevalence of pig pens and rabbit hutches, a largish communal stable with stalls for horses and cows, a central generator and lines that led to the individual cabins, and looking through the windows past the frost, some of the cabins were kitted out with appliances like cookstoves and space heaters. Outbuildings held what might have been tractors and like the livestock, most of those were either gone or ruined. I pulled into the yard and headed toward the rear, where the hutches tended to be.
"Is there anything you particularly want to know or will a thumbnail view suffice?"
I found the hutch and started breaking it apart.
---
“How’d ya end up there, for one.” Kiera followed, crunching through the snow. The rags around her feet made her boots almost unbearably tight, but it was better than frostbite. Her little bit of penance, “Zeke” would say and she snorted to herself before continuing. “Who is this Roscov and why does Joshua almost freak when he talks about him? Who stabbed your friend if he’s so important to everyone? And what did you to do Potemkin? I ain’t never seen so much hate in one being to the point of madness.”
---
I listened as I worked and paused when she finished.
“That’s a lot of ground to cover. Which one’s the most important to you?” Which one she picks should be interesting. I kept moving, urged on by the darkening sky and the need to stay warm.
---
Kiera pondered, her lips pursing. “How did you get to the gulag?” she finally asked. The reset seemed to have happened there; maybe the clarifications for the rest of the questions would follow. From Joshua and his almost fear of the man called Roscov, the wounded man and his importance. It all seemed to revolve around the dome. Even Potemkin had flown there. For now that seemed the place to focus. An eyebrow twitched. She hadn’t seen it out of the window until she had gone outside the ship. Blissful, ironic ignorance.
---
“That one’s easy,” I said, stacking the wood and pulling the sled back the way we came. The shadows had attained the width of the village street and we walked back to our bivouac in the gloom. Overhead the sky was piercingly clear and to the east, sliding quickly toward purple. “It’s not like we made a stealthy landing. We were on fire and you could see us coming for miles. Roskov got into a Snow Cat and rescued us. Next question.”
---
"I'm afraid to ask. . .fire?" Her voice was droll but her eyes were alive. She had very little idea of what madness happened on the Gift, even less once the ship had entered atmo. She feared asking; not because of the repercussions from the crew, but the fact that it added fuel to the slow burning fire in her gut. She needed to be clear-headed if they ever got a chance to get Potemkin and friends. It wasn't good to be in a fight and be distracted.
---
“Yeah, we—,” I stopped and shook my head. “Trust me, you don’t wanna know. Must’ve popped a fuel line or something on reentry and quite frankly, we weren’t in a position to linger over repairs once we landed.” I trudged on, bitter over Potemkin’s treatment of our girl, and I didn’t bother to hide it. “Suffice it to say, we blazed a trail across the sky a blind man could follow and it was only a matter of time before someone showed up. I suppose you can call us lucky that Roskov found us first. Had Potemkin showed up, I doubt we’d’ve survived past the first five minutes.”
---
Kiera scowled, her mouth tight. "He is on borrowed time," she stated softly, almost to herself. She rubbed her fingers, trying to get some feeling back, focusing on her gun hand first. "So, tell me about Roskov? What is he?"
---
"He is ... I hate to bring up obscure history but he's like a modern-day Rasputin. A combination of iron will, intense charisma, and command. And yet." I thought back to his getting past the guards when we first arrived, how it was damned creepy how he had the sentries practically eating out of his hand. "He has this way of being utterly utterly persuasive. Like it's unthinkable you'd disagree with him. A matter of claiming victory in your heart before battle, you know? He claims obedience before he opens his mouth to give the order. It's strange. You hear it and you do it without thinking about it. At least, that's how it seemed to me. He had everyone either jumping to his tune or cowed enough to stay out of his way. If I believed in that sort of thing, I'd say he had everyone under some sort of mind control." I cast a sour look at her. "But we all know that's just science fiction."
---
"Things are never as they appear." She watched the engineer with interest for a moment, her face stilling as she shifted her attention to take in the land around her. "How'd your mind do under this mind control? Did it work on you?"
---
"No. And before you start thinking my mind is something special, I want to make it clear that he was interested in Joshua from the start and left me pretty much alone." That wasn't to say the man hadn't paid attention, no. He caught right off the tchotchke stain on my accent and knew just where to needle me hard. "I kept my eyes open and my mouth shut and stayed out of his sight as much as possible."
---
"It is a line of sight power? If he couldn't see Joshua, would it work?"
---
"Can't say. Just because I couldn't see him when Joshua had me on the dome doesn't mean he couldn't see Joshua. I really can't say. But consider this," I turned and looked at her. "Reputation lingers long after someone's left the room. Make yours strong enough, it starts doing the hard work for you. For instance, Nika and I were trapped in a prison with I-don't-know-how-many men who hadn't clapped hands on a woman in years ... and nobody looked at us wrong. Not even in the showers. I had two of them in the generator room with me. Jumping me would have been easy. Lock the door, have their fun, leave. No one would have known til it was too late. Hell, if they'd killed me afterward, they'd've gotten away with it. They didn't make a move, Kiera. I asked them why not. They told me Roskov had declared Nika and me strictly off-limits. That's how damned powerful he is--they didn't even dare to cop a feel." I pushed off for camp again, saying over my shoulder. "I'm not much to look at compared to Nika, but in a male-only prison, looks don't mean squat so long as all your parts are in the right place."
I shrugged and put my eyes back on the path ahead. The ice was treacherous and the last thing I wanted or needed was a busted ankle.
"So in terms of how powerful he is, take it however you want it, but I'd say he's pretty high up there on the power-meter."
---
Her mouth worked in response, but she was formulating her words. It was easy to talk when you didn't care what anyone thought, easy to talk when lives weren't on the line quite so much, easy to talk when you were trying to force people away. Now, she had to choose carefully. There was one question she would leave for last, but it was the one that would make the conversation end and she would save it for when she felt that she had enough information to make a decent decision. She didn't feel as if she knew near enough to help any of them. . .including herself. A sentence caught at her memory. "Dome? What'd ya mean when Joshua had you on the dome? And more importantly, what kind of weapons did they have in the dome? I know what I saw walk out of Potemkin's ship, but I never got inside to see what lay inside the dome. Is it possible for you to draw the layout for me once we get back?"
---
"Reasonably sure," I admitted. "Why? Forgive me for saying so but I wouldn't want to launch an assault against the GULag with anything less than an orbital nuke. But why even go there? Our best revenge is to leave them behind to rot. Or if you're thinking of engaging Potemkin, I'm pretty sure he's going to come to us. There's nothing to lure us back to the GULag. It's got nothing we want, so engaging us there isn't gonna happen. Where are you going with this?"
---
The smile was thin. "I just feel as if I'm working in a void. No, going into the rat hole means the rats have the advantage, so drawing the dome is a waste of time. But since some of the weapons might be walking back out to find us, that much would help." She stopped walking and looked to the sky. "If I didn't care what the hell happened, then I wouldn't want to know so much. Maybe by knowing too much and not flying by the seat of my pants, I'm messing myself up. But there is a responsibility that I feel for this," she paused and eyed Rina, "and yes, I know you and the crew believe that I was part of all of it no matter what I say, but somehow I've got to get y'all away and safe. I'm in better shape than any of you right now. And if I don't get y'all away, then I'm going down and taking as many of them as I can." She looked to the sky again, her jaw working. "I didn't know what Potemkin had planned until I was his damn guest captive myself and by then, there wasn't much I could do but watch and listen. I ain't proud of myself, but gorram hell, even I wouldn't have wished that on my worst enemies, much less people like you people." She took a long breath and then fixed her gaze back to Rina. "I'm there 'til the end, Rina. I'll hold them off alone if need be to let you get the others away, but I'm not planning to go with you so don't feel as if you would need to plan to take me when you escape. Don't let Joshua or Nika convince you otherwise. I'll have your back this time. I promise it."
---
I looked at her in the last light of sunset, a stray beam of light setting her red hair aflame. Kiera had always affected a world-weary attitude but this time there was truth behind it. Making deals with the Devil is never a safe thing and not something that leaves a person unscathed. He made her watch. Made her confront the results of her handiwork. He tortured her too.
"I'm sorry," I said, meaning it. "Yes, you were responsible but we weren't entirely blameless either." I took a deep breath and dared ask, "You said he made you watch. You saw everything that happened to us? On our girl?"
I'd said things, done things, I wasn't proud of. Things that I wouldn't have done had circumstances been different. The idea that Potemkin had witnessed it bothered me far less than the idea that Kiera might have. You expect that sort of voyeurism from your jailer, but it never occurred to me that Kiera would have been in on it too.
---
"You weren't on any camera that I could see. I was told a lot. I got to spend infinite mad hours talking to Dr Gordon and listen to how proud he was of what was done just from his little experiments. I got to see his experiments with the Stitches. I saw a little of what was loaded on the ship. You said you came down in flames. That ain't an easy landing and from my experience, you ain't laughing when it happens. And I see you all and I looked you each in the eye. There is a haunted soul in each of you, one who just went through hard times. You didn't have that before, not so much. But you all do now. And what I see in Arden's eyes is murder. He's never looked like that." She swallowed, her jaw working. "I appreciate that you feel like you share responsibility for this. I don't know what happened with you guys and Potemkin. But again, you weren't looking for this kind of trouble. I brought it and didn't tell you that I was bringing it. I knew better than to trust anybody. I live by that." She was silent a while, her face still. At length, she stated softly, "I want to see the Gift. I want to know in detail what happened. From your side, not from the bastards who did it. I want the emotions you felt, not the triumph and soulless pride that they felt. It's mine to share. Mine to experience from you. If and when you can talk about it, I want to know." She ventured a small smile. "Probably cloud my decisions even more. That may not be smart. But I want to know what happened if you can tell me before we go our separate ways."
---
Had I met Kiera even as little as a year and a half ago, I would have sided with Arden. Now?
I'd had time to think on revenge, on the benefits and the cost of it. Watching my crewmates struggle through Potemkin's traps, their injuries, the cold, revenge seemed pointless. Empty. It wasn't something I needed anymore. Not for this. Being alive was revenge enough. Denying Potemkin our deaths more than paid me back. Looking at Kiera now I could see the woman I was then and knowing what I would have needed then, I gave it to her now. I dropped the rope and drew her in a crushing bear hug, holding nothing back. Touch. Acceptance. Forgiveness. Simple and human.
"Ask me anything," I said. "Just ask."
---
The shudder wracked through her strong enough to jar her bones free, an explosion of tightly held emotion that she had repressed since entering Potemkin's ship. Her eyes misted and she send a soft prayer of grateful thanks to a stranger and his god and the wisdom that they had shared. Freeing her arms, she equally encased the little engineer and just held her. "What happened?" she asked. "What happened on the Gift?" Pulling free, she smiled weakly. "I am sorry, more sorry than you will ever know, Rina. But tell me what happened and don't hold back a detail. Ain't no redemption if you don't truly understand the sin. But before you do, can we get back and let me get warm? It'll please Arden for certain that I'm suffering through this hell-like cold, but I'd like to live long enough to listen to you."
---
I held her tight as she shook but didn’t resist when she squirmed free. There's something about forgiveness that people don't tell you--it heals both ways, forgiver and forgiven. I knew Kiera had plans for Potemkin should he ever fall to her. Carrying a grudge might keep you warm, but like carrying a live coal in your bare hands, it burns. I wanted to warn her of the danger but looking at her as she stepped back, I could see she needed the warmth it gave her as much as she needed the fire back at camp. So I said nothing on the matter but tipped my head back to our bivouac.
"And I wouldn't mind having you listen." I picked up the rope and pulled the sled. "As for Arden?" I added. "He'll come around. If he doesn't, he'll have to get through me. I won't make it easy."
And with that, I buried the hatchet. There really was no other possible outcome.
---
Kiera grinned, secretly surprised and delighted to finally have the expression and feel the correct emotion behind it. "Good. I might get to sleep tonight," she countered with a wink. Reaching, she held out a hand. "Let me help with that sled. You think that they'll have dinner done when we get back?"
---
"Probably," I said, answering the last. "As for the rest, I'll suggest we stand watch and that we don't do it alone. I'll stand with you if you like."
I figured I could tell her everything then, out of earshot of the others who probably wouldn't appreciate reliving what I told her.
---
"Deal. Lemme have a hand with that sled. You ain't said I could, so I'm just gonna knock you outta the way if I have to." She walked over to the front so that she could help pull.
---
"Here," I handed her the rope and gave her a companionable push. How often had my brothers and I shared the same rough affection? Times beyond counting. "Blowhard."
---
Go back to: Timeline Season Four, April 2521 to Dec 2521
Go to Peripatetica - Rina's Journal entry and RP log
Go to Rina's Russian Glossary
Go to Rina's Crew Page
Go to EPISODES or TIMELINE
