Princess of the Void-3.7. Self Defense

“Pick her up before you run.”

Grant snorts. “You know, I can see why Brigadier Hyax likes you. You’re like baby Hyax.”

“You don’t need to learn this stuff, sire,” Ajax says. “Sykora is an expert warrior, and she sticks to you like glue. And you have a hundred trained soldiers whose profession is keeping you alive. If you’re ever in danger, we’ll protect you.”

“I want to hold my own.”

Ajax taps the holster at his waist. “Just keep a weapon on you, then. You’re big enough to conceal one, you’re high-status enough that justification will be simple, and you clearly know how to use one. Like how you did Thror. One clean headshot, I hear. That’s good shit for a civilian.”

“I don’t want to rely on guns.”

He hears the skepticism in Ajax’s helmet-modulated voice. “Why not?”

“I don’t want to kill.”

“You’re talking about a situation where your wife will be out of commission and your soldiers are somehow out of reach. That’s justification for lethal force.”

“I mean the ethics of it. And its effect on me.”

Ajax taps his foot. “Is it the psychological aspect, then, sire? Because we can certainly address that. It might have to be adapted for your Maekyonite mind, but there’s plenty of resilience training we could do, if your wife allowed it.”

“Have you killed before, Ajax?”

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“Yes, sire.”

“How did it feel?”

“Fine.”

“That’s it?” Grant raises a brow. “Just fine?”

“Everyone I’ve killed was under orders. Someone else made the call. I was the delivery mechanism.”

Grant grimaces. “Maybe it would have to be adapted. I don’t think that would work for me, the just following orders thing.”

Ajax chuckles. “You sound like a girl, sire.”

“I what?”

“This is how the chicks on shore leave talk about marines,” Ajax says. “The fantasy of whisking them away from the military and saving them from all those orders from all those scary officer women. Makes it hard to find a girl as a marine.”

Grant turns this notion over and tries again to plug it into his worldview. “What, like they think you’re slutty?”

“Yes, sire. They still drool over you. You get a lot of chicks chasing you for flings. But a soldier isn’t exactly who you’d take home to mom and dad. A girl isn’t gonna want to go steady with a guy who’ll take orders so readily from other girls. They want a big burly man in uniform who obeys them, and only them.”

“What about, like, your boss? At a civilian job?”

“Well, yeah, sire. Them, too. Why do you think it’s harder for civilians to get jobs? Except for jobs like bodyguard or firefighter or soldier, of course, and that’s a job where you put your body on the line for women you aren’t even sleeping with. Like a piece of meat.” Ajax imitates a fluttery lady voice. “Ooh, brave marine. Don’t you worry. I’ll take you out of that big dark voidship and you will never have to kill again.”

“You have a girlfriend, though, don’t you? Meena, right?”

“Yes, sire. She’s crew, though. She gets it.”

“How’d you meet her?”

“She was my stalker, sire.”

Grant decides that, joke or not, he’s going to let that one settle where it lies. “Sykora said that. That I’d never have to kill again.”

“Doesn’t exactly apply the same way to you, sire. Since any killing you’d do on the job is for her specifically. Your wife is your boss. That’s living the dream.” Ajax’s fingers drum on his quilted-armor biceps. “If she says you won’t have to kill again, I don’t understand why you’re in a hurry to.”

“What if I want to take someone out? Like, nonlethally?”

The marine shakes his head. “Don’t think like that. Shoot them. Nine out of ten times, you shoot someone once, they’ll live. And anyone who’s attacking the Princess or Prince Consort of the Black Pike has earned at least one bullet.”

“I shot Thror once.”

“Okay, smartass. And don’t shoot them in the brain.”

“Ajax, did you just call your Prince Consort a smartass?”

“No, sire.”

“You totally did.”

“A malfunction of your implant, perhaps, sire.” Ajax hesitates. “Look. Utility aside, I can teach you some martial arts, and it’ll be excellent exercise and give you confidence. I’m willing to do that.”

Grant drops into the stance he remembers from a Jiu Jitsu groupon he used once on a date. “All right. Teach me.”

Ajax sighs heavily. “If your wife comes in while we’re doing this, it’s on you to keep her from executing me, sire.” One of his feet pivots back. He loosens his stance. “Come at me. Try to get me to the floor.”

Grant takes a deep breath and lets it out. He pushes off and charges the marine, going for the waist in an amateur, age-yellowed attempt at a double-leg takedown.

Ajax tilts to one side as Grant charges. He leans in with his hips, his arm ratchets around Grant’s neck—

and both Maekyonite and marine grunt with surprise as Grant bears Ajax to the ground. The clatter of the marine’s armor echoes off the bleached walls.

Ajax’s legs immediately shift up into guard. He tugs an over-committed Grant into a forceful headlock. A ceramic armor panel scrapes against Grant’s cheek. “Tap, sire.”

Grant taps and sits back, breathing hard.

“Son of a bitch.” Ajax gets to his feet. “I was planning on humbling you, and you fucking grounded me.”

“Yeah, well.” Grant touches his tender face. “You just about ripped my head off.”

“I’m a marine, man. I mean, sire.” The bewilderment is clear in Ajax’s voice. “And you’re a civilian.” He steps back. “Come at me again.”

“Promise you won’t dislocate anything.”

“I promise, sire.”

Grant rushes.

Absent any useful technique, he goes for the double leg takedown again. This time Ajax leaps and rolls over him as he ducks down. The marine’s tail lashes around his neck and armpit, and yanks. He tips backward—

And halts his fall by sweeping out his back foot. He grunts and twists, closing his fists around Ajax’s tail and pivoting to pull the marine off-balance. An alarmed hiss of air from his opponent. For a moment, Grant feels like the god of war.

Then Ajax’s calves scissor around his back leg and pluck it from the floor. He slams onto his back hard enough to drive the air out of him. Ajax pirouettes to his feet.

“Fuck me.” He extends a hand. “You’re hard to drop, Maekyonite.”

Grant catches his breath as the marine helps him to his feet. “Doesn’t feel that way.”

“Maybe…” Ajax crosses his arms. “Okay. I’m willing to admit that maybe training you in CQC isn’t a waste of time.”

“For real?”

“You’re untrained. You’re a civilian. My theory was that there’s no way to coach you to a point that fighting will beat running as a survival strategy when the horns are locking.” Ajax straightens the askew tuft on his tail. “I forgot you’re big as fuck.”

Grant rubs his arm where Ajax’s tail lashed around him. He takes a moment to feel his body. He flexes experimentally. Is he imagining things or is he… stronger? It’s nothing he’s noticed visually, but just feeling his body, there’s more to it than he remembers.

The thing is,” Ajax continues, “you don’t have horns and a tail. The system I was taught is called Taiikarizia’i. That involves horns and tails, and doesn’t consider how you’re big as hell, which is going to be your primary advantage in any fight.”

“Not against Eqtorans.”

“If we have to fight any Eqtorans, we’re just gonna melt them from orbit,” Ajax laughs, and then remembers the “sire.”

Grant grins, but his stomach shifts a little as he absorbs that.

“What I’d do in your bigass shoes, if you’re really that determined, is hit the gym and get even bigger,” Ajax says. “Multiply that force. Get some glamor muscles for your girl. And maybe we could get you an Eqtoran coach once they’re in the Empire.”

“Maybe. As long as they don’t use their tails, too.”

“Or we could kidnap a Maekyonite soldier and have them teach you.”

“Please don’t.”

“What are you gals talking about?”

Sykora’s big red eyes are peeking into the practice room through a crack in the door.

Ajax snaps to attention like a lightning bolt struck him. He salutes. “Majesty.”

“Greetings, Sergeant. And hello, dove.” Sykora steps into the doorway. She's got her hair in a scrunchied up-do that does a good-enough job at concealing the subtly crowning horns atop her head. “I hope I’m not prematurely breaking up the dude time.”

Ajax bows low. “We were just finishing up, Majesty.”

“How’s my husband’s throwing arm?”

“Steadily improving, Majesty.”

“Tactful of you, Ajax,” Grant says. “Hi, hon. How was the prep?”

“So-so.” With every stride into the room, Sykora decompresses. Her shoulders loosen, her posture widens, her pupils grow. It’s like she’s transforming, or blooming, the closer she gets to him. “I was wondering if there was any handsome alien around who might want to pick me up and carry me around.”

He glances at Ajax, who’s back in stiff formality. “Thanks for your time, Sergeant. You’re dismissed.”

“Sire.” Ajax salutes and makes as inconspicuous a departure as a fully armored space warrior can.

Grant turns his attention back to his wife. She’s shifting foot-to-foot, her hands behind her back as she looks hopefully up at him. He thinks about what he once heard from the departing marine when he was eavesdropping. Whenever she’s not with him, she gets jumpy… think she’s got a Maekyonite-shaped security blanket.

Well, so what? There are worse things to be than a beautiful Princess’s security blanket.

“I was actually thinking about hitting the gym,” he says. “Now that I’m all warmed up.”

“Oh?” Her ears perk up. “Would you care to bring your wife along?”

“I’d never imagine doing otherwise, Majesty.”

Her tail wags. “I’m a bit formal for the rec room right now. If you’d be willing to swing by the cabin first, maybe your teeny tiny wife could change into the teeny-tiniest pair of gym shorts she can find.” She tugs on his pant leg and he lowers to a knee. Her voice goes low and husky in his ear: “And before we hit the gym, you could help me stretch.”

She drapes her arms around his shoulders and lets out a delighted little squeak when he cradles her thighs and boosts her up into his arms.

And maybe this is what he’s for, he reflects, as Sykora kisses his jaw, then skitters monkey-like from his chest to his back. Maybe he doesn’t need to be the philosopher-angel on her shoulder. Maybe he doesn’t need to foil any would-be assassins. Maybe she’s right, and loving her is enough.

He’s still not sure. But it’ll do for now.