Star-Crossed - Chapter 8 (Patreon)

Blake understood the true difficulty of going undercover now.  Besides pretending to be a criminal while living amongst real criminals, she was cut off from the community she’d fostered within ISA.  She was in the middle of deep space by herself.  She couldn’t call her parents and tell them that she loved them.  She couldn’t talk to Sun and roll her eyes at his stupid jokes.

She’d always considered herself a loner, but apparently that wasn’t entirely correct.  This was what it felt like to be alone.

“All those sighs are making me sleepy.”

Remembering that she wasn’t the only person in the room, she looked up and gave a quick smile.

“Sorry,” she told Ret before returning to cleaning the phaser in front of her.  

Regardless of how menial the work was, she enjoyed it.  The mindlessness of disassembling a weapon, cleaning the individual parts, and putting it back together reminded her of her early days in training while also being something different entirely.  The commanding officers put her under so much time pressure then that she never grasped how relaxing the process was until now...  

“Want one?”

When Ret offered her a small square package holding an extra-strength stimulant, she shook her head and watched him shrug before opening it for himself.

“You like those?” she asked while he grabbed the small disc and popped it into his mouth.  

“They make me happy.  And, you know, keep me from remembering.”

“From remembering what?” 

“Life.”  Though a smile never left his lips, and he shrugged for good measure, Blake’s desire to pry left her.  “But with these,” he added as he held up the empty wrapper.  “I don’t have to.  Pretty cool, right?”

‘Cool’ was the last word Blake would use, but as long as they kept him happy - which they most assuredly did - she couldn’t say anything about it.  They affected his ability to be a contributing crew member, but everyone seemed fine with shoving him in the armory to polish weapons.  Still, his near-constant usage was worrisome.  From what she knew about stimulants, there were some serious and potentially permanent side effects if used too much or too often.  

Drugs or not, he was a decent person.  Definitely her favorite amongst the crew, which was why she preferred spending time here rather than anywhere else.

Hearing a quick beep followed by the door sliding open, she turned and froze when she caught Yang’s gaze.  In that one glance, she remembered the last time they saw each other - breaking onto the passenger ship, searching room-by-room, all those wasted lives on the bridge...and that flicker of solidarity when it all came to an end.

“What’re you doing?”  

If there had been a moment between them, it was impossible to tell from Yang’s tone.

“What does it look like?” Blake replied, raising her grease-covered arms while Yang walked further into the room.

“Playing with oil.”  

Ret huffed at the response but said nothing, leaving Blake to scoff at the implication.  Before she thought of something clever to say, however, Yang turned away from her.

“Can you look at this for me?” she asked while setting her phaser on the workbench and shoving it towards Ret.  “Keeps overheating after like five shots.  As fun as it is to hold a stick of lava, I’d rather not burn off my fingers.”

“Why don’t you hold it in your other hand?” he joked but, from his horrified expression, immediately regretted it.  Fortunately for him, Yang only scoffed.

“Just because I have a metal arm doesn’t mean I want to use shitty guns.”  After a brief pause, she added, “If you can’t get it to work, give it to Cinder.”

When Ret snuck a knowing look Blake’s way, she huffed in amusement and unintentionally brought Yang’s gaze her way.

“If you’re not busy, I have something to show you.”

“Oh.  Sure, ok.”  

When Ret tossed a rag across the table, Blake caught it and cleaned off her hands.  Recognizing this as one of the opportunities she always searched for, she took her time and made sure to remove every bit of grease and polish she found.  Sun called it pushing her luck; she thought of it as testing her boundaries.  How patient would Yang be?  Where was the line she shouldn’t cross, and what happened if she did?

She reached that line when Yang made a disgruntled noise and spun around.

“Forget it.”

“Wait -”  After tossing the rag on the table and smiling at Ret, she rushed after Yang.  “You don’t want me to get grease everywhere, do you?”

“I don’t mind getting a little dirty.”  

When Yang shrugged, Blake sent her a look and wondered whether she expected a response.  But her annoyance had faded quickly, which was a good sign.  Those were the ISA officers that put up with the most and let Blake get away with the most.  Those were also the officers with the best senses of humor, but she wouldn’t take the comparison that far yet.

“Surprised that’s where you decided to help,” Yang added as they left the armory behind.

“Why?  Don’t think I can handle a weapon?”

“You don’t look the part.”

Blake scoffed at the response, which would be insulting even if her fictional record wasn’t that of a skilled mercenary.  

“Didn’t realize there were look requirements for knowing how to take apart a phaser.”

Half-expecting Yang to come back with a retort, she was pleasantly surprised when nothing of the sort happened.  Instead, Yang glanced her way and fell silent.

She had yet to figure Yang out, and that interaction provided no additional clarity.  Cinder was evil, Adam was psychotic, Yang was...what was she?  Stern, unyielding, and intimidating came to mind, but she had more variance in those emotions than Adam and Cinder combined.  That variance made her seem like a normal person, with a range of emotions that differed based on external and internal stimuli.  

A normal person could be reasoned with.  Bartered with.  Even persuaded to change their mind.

“What do you want to show me?” Blake asked when she realized Yang wouldn’t start another conversation on her own.  

“Training center.”  Leading them onto a lift and pushing the button for one of the lower floors, Yang crossed her arms and waited for the machine to take them to their destination.  “Have you been down here?” she asked once they arrived.

“Briefly, yes.” 

By this point, Blake had explored as much of the ship as possible.  The living areas she knew well.  Outside of that, she had decent knowledge of where everything was even if she hadn’t found the opportunity to snoop inside yet.

“Well this is the training center,” Yang explained while pressing her palm to a panel outside one of the rooms Blake hadn’t explored yet.  Once the doors slid open, they walked into a sprawling training area that sent Blake back to her days at the Academy.

Several nearby Blackguards were running an exercise that looked like a modified version of the duck-and-cover drill she hated.  A firing range took up the right side of the room, where several more Blackguards participated in what looked like timed target practices.  There were combat dummies, an entire suite of gym equipment, and what looked like fake rooms set up for practice maneuvers.

“I didn’t show you before because I didn’t think you’d be useful.”  

Blake glared at Yang for the insult, but Yang just shrugged off the look.  

“If you want to go on missions with us, you have to be trained like us.  That starts here.”

When Yang nodded to the room, Blake turned and soaked in the atmosphere.  Like everything else about the Blackguards, it was more disciplined and regimented than she would have imagined.  But, by now, she wasn’t even surprised.

“Adam and I are in charge of training,” Yang explained with a nod towards the man, who was observing a drill on the far side of the room.  “You have to pass a skills test to be assigned a squad, but with enough practice...maybe you can do it.”

Though Blake scoffed at the gentle insult, she looked around the room and struggled to come up with an answer.  After only one mission outside of the Inferno, she never wanted to go on another.  She’d been lucky to escape without harming anyone, but how long would that luck continue?  How long before she was forced to take someone’s life to save her own?

On the other hand, she recognized what Yang was offering - the chance to prove herself.  She would no longer be ‘just’ the translator.  She would be assigned to a squad.  She would train with them, eat meals with them, and spend her free time with them.  She would be one of them.  

“It’s your call,” Yang added when Blake didn’t immediately respond.  But she knew what she had to say, even though she didn’t want to.  In which case, was it really her decision at all?

She’d just opened her mouth to answer when Adam spotted them.  Even across the room, his intense, angry stare made her heart speed up.

“Great…” Yang muttered under her breath when he stepped away from the drill and walked towards them.  Blake probably wasn’t meant to overhear the comment, but Yang likely didn’t understand the sensitivity of her ears.  For that, she was grateful because, in a single word, she learned that Yang was just as thrilled about the incoming conversation as she was.

“What’s she doing here?” he asked with a curt nod at Blake.  

“Showing her the ropes.  Seeing if she wants to join the squads.” 

The way Adam looked at Blake made her want to fidget, but she forced herself to remain as still and impassive as possible.

“No,” he concluded, and Yang sighed.  

“Why not?” 

“Once we find the mines, throw her into training.  Until then, she stays here until needed.” 

Yang shook her head but didn’t argue, and Blake didn’t have the will to argue either.  With Adam laying down the law, she wasn’t sure if she was relieved or annoyed that another decision had been torn from her grasp.

“Fine,” Yang snapped before motioning with her hand.  “Do you need something?”

“Yes.”  Before saying anything more, Adam scowled at Blake.  “Leave.” 

Blake needed no further encouragement to turn around and walk out of the training room.  Her ears, however, remained focused on the conversation she just left behind.

“We’re leaving for Yudrao tomorrow,” Adam said well before she was out of hearing distance.

“You said we’d check Vestea first.” 

“Change of plans.  The Gilerths want to meet earlier.”

“But we’re right here,” Yang pressed and, even from outside the door, Blake heard the beseeching edge in her voice.  “We can’t leave yet.  You said -”

“I said we’re leaving.”  Adam’s decision was final, but there was a long stretch of silence before he spoke again.  “This is more important.  We’ll look for her later.”

The comment caught Blake’s attention, and she scooted closer to the door to ensure she heard Yang’s response.

“You promised -” 

“And we’ll come back - after this is finished.”

Another long pause followed, and Blake had just taken another step towards the door when it flew open and Yang stalked out.  She didn’t notice or acknowledge Blake as she stormed away, with everything about her posture and footsteps broadcasting how angry she was.

Against her better judgment, Blake hurried after her.

Adam’s comments and Yang’s reaction suggested that this was a bigger deal than she understood.  She’d never seen Yang so close to arguing with Adam, especially not with members of the crew within earshot, which meant she really wanted to know more.  As she trailed Yang through the corridors at a fast walk, that feeling only expanded.

If she had to guess, Yang was headed back to her room in the officer’s quarters.  That was one hallway Blake hadn’t found the gall to sneak around in yet, mostly because she had no excuse for being there and didn’t want to be caught anywhere near Cinder’s personal space.  That thought alone gave her reason to worry, but not enough to sway her from this quest.

The moment she turned the corner and a hand grabbed her arm, she felt differently.

“What the hell are you doing?” Yang demanded while spinning Blake around and shoving her into the wall.  “Are you looking for trouble?”

“No, I just -”  When she tried to step away from the wall but Yang didn’t move, she sighed and leaned back so as not to get too close.  “You seemed upset, so I just thought I’d...see if you were ok.”

In the history of ridiculous things to say, that was probably at the top.  As a leader of the Blackguards, Yang wouldn’t admit being upset even if she was, especially not to someone with Blake’s meager status.  And for the longest time, she just stared.  Her red eyes made her look so angry, it was impossible to tell if there were other emotions mixed in there.  Frustration?  Confusion?  Scorn?

“You have a death wish,” she finally spit out.

“A simple ‘I’m fine’ would suffice,” Blake retorted as annoyance flared in her chest.  Again, she tried to leave, but Yang didn’t move out of the way - which only made her more annoyed.  “Sorry I bothered.”

When she put her hand on Yang’s shoulder, prepared to push her out of the way, Yang grabbed her arm and held tight.  Not painfully tight, but tight enough for her to realize that was another mistake.

But Yang didn’t say anything.  She didn’t do anything.  She just held Blake’s arm and gave her another unreadable expression that could be pure anger or merely curiosity and confusion.

The expression disappeared when Blake’s ear turned towards sounds nearby.  Footsteps accompanied by voices, and Cinder’s walk was recognizable from the gait alone.  Yang heard their approaching company seconds later, and quickly dropped Blake’s arm before motioning to a nearby door.

“In here,” she whispered while pressing her hand to the keypad and waving Blake through.  

Even though Blake had no idea where Yang was leading her, she ducked into the room without hesitation.  Yang was right on her heels, and she hardly made it three steps inside before turning around and watching the door shut behind them.  And, with the door shut, the sound of voices and footsteps disappeared.

In the sudden absence of noise, Blake’s heart pounded in her ears while she stared at Yang.  It wasn’t a question of if but how much trouble she would be in if Cinder caught her in the hall, especially if Yang bailed and left her to fend for herself.

One less confrontation with Cinder was a good thing.  And, as Blake’s adrenaline faded away, she realized that she was standing in someone’s room.  It was at least ten times the size of her tiny cabin and, from the mementos placed about, looked well-lived in.  

“Welcome to my room,” Yang muttered while brushing past Blake and sitting on her bed with a sigh.  The way she tilted her head back and closed her eyes stirred a strange feeling in Blake’s chest - part confliction, part confusion, and part something else.

Sitting like that, Yang didn’t look like a fearsome Blackguard leader commanding the respect of an entire crew.  Sitting like that, she just looked...tired.

“Are you looking for someone?” Blake asked, but regretted it the instant Yang’s eyes snapped open.

“That’s none of your business.”

Not the answer she was hoping for, and she wanted to test her boundaries again but also didn’t want to get thrown out so soon.  So she kept her mouth shut, nodded, and looked around instead.  Spotting a pile of folded clothes on top of a dresser, she realized that she’d never seen Yang wear anything other than a Blackguard uniform.  In her downtime, did she wear normal clothes?

The stack of books on the desk threw Blake for an even more unexpected loop, as she was abruptly confronted by the human side of Yang - the person who wasn’t all brawn and scarlet eyes.  The person who read in her free time, if she ever had any.

Hearing Yang sigh and stand up, Blake ceased her analysis and watched Yang instead.

“Guess you’re hanging around,” she mumbled, her posture and tone more relaxed than Blake had ever seen.  “Can you fight?”

When Yang motioned towards the mat on the floor between the desk and the bed, Blake frowned.  

“Yes…”

“Then you can spar with me.”  

Yang held up her fists after the comment, but Blake quickly shook her head.

“I don’t want to fight you.”

“It’s how I blow off steam,” Yang said.  “It’s either this, or that -” she added with a gesture towards her bed.  “Your call.”

Blake scoffed but, when Yang shrugged as if it wasn’t a joke, frowned instead.

“Well you don’t have to be an ass about it…” she grumbled while moving over to the mat.  

When Yang smiled at the response, Blake briefly stared.  It was the first time she’d seen Yang truly smile, and it changed everything about her.  Her eyes sparkled, her expression softened, and she looked like someone who, at one point in time, had been exceptionally happy.

The expression disappeared quickly though, leaving the battle-hardened criminal in its place.

“Come on then,” Yang prodded her.  “I’ll even let you take the first swing.”

Raising her hands and setting her feet, Blake ignored the taunting and focused on Yang’s posture.  While much better with a knife in her hands, she could hold her own in a fistfight.  But she was wary of Yang’s metal arm, which would hurt like hell if she didn’t block or dodge it.

“Do you always spar in your room?” she asked while slowly stepping to the right for a better angle.  

The moment Yang’s lips twitched with a smile, Blake unleashed her first attack.  She thought she was fast enough to land the blow, but Yang surprised her with a seamless dropback followed by an even faster counterattack.  A fist hurtled past her cheek, and barely missed contact as she scrambled out of the way and tried to compose herself.

That was her first mistake, as Yang’s next attack matched the speed and intensity of the first, and landed right in her side.  The burst of pain sent adrenaline racing through her veins, and she suddenly realized that this was a real fight; Yang would actually hit her if she wasn’t good enough.

Moving to the edge of the mat, she tried to slow her breathing and ignore the pain in her side.  The amusement in Yang’s eyes suggested the momentary pause was only giving her time to process what just happened - a luxury that wouldn’t be granted again.

She needed to forget the structured fights at the Academy.  There weren’t any rules here.  There weren’t any norms of combat.  Yang would use whatever means necessary to win, and Blake needed to do the same.

“You afraid of hitting me or something?” Yang teased.

“More like afraid of bruising your ego,” Blake mumbled, only to feel another strange mix of emotions when Yang smiled again.

“If you kick my ass, it’s my fault for asking for it.” 

“And my problem if you get pissed.” 

To Blake, that was pointing out the obvious, but Yang lowered her fists and tilted her head.

“You think I’ll retaliate?” 

“I’ve seen people retaliate for less.”

“Well, I won’t,” Yang replied with a firm shake of her head.

Surprisingly, Blake believed her.  Maybe that was a mistake.  Maybe that was her hope for an ally.  Or maybe she just wanted to see if she could kick Yang’s ass.

“Up to you.”  

Yang raised her fists, but the way she shrugged suggested Blake could walk away if she wanted to.  Except she didn’t want to.  Instead, she resumed her fighting stance, noted the glint of happiness in Yang’s eyes, and launched another attack.

This time, she feinted with her left hand before following up with her right, but Yang reacted with seamless fluidity that must have been learned over the course of many, many fights.  While brushing Blake’s hand aside, she swung with her right and nearly connected with Blake’s cheek.

The blow would have landed had Blake not spun out of the way and kicked the back of Yang’s knee.  Knocked off balance, Yang caught the edge of her desk to steady herself before whirling around with another fist leading the way.  Blake ducked underneath and lunged forward, wrapping both arms around Yang’s waist and shoving her into the desk.  It wasn’t a legal move, by any means, or even one she’d been taught - all she knew was that it was an opening, and she had to take any openings she found.

It worked - temporarily.  When Yang’s back hit the desk, a breath of air was forced from her lungs.  That brief moment gave Blake just enough time to give Yang another shove before backing away and landing a hook squarely on her jaw.  The resulting crack surprised them both, enough so that Blake fell flat-footed while Yang raised a hand to her jaw and worked it around.

“Alright,” she said, rolling her shoulders and resuming a ready stance.  “You asked for it now.”

The next second, she unleashed a flurry of blows that immediately put Blake on the defensive.  

Apparently, Yang had been holding back.  Now that she wasn’t, she sent Blake scrambling for a way out of the barrage of fists hurtling towards her.  After blocking one with her arm - a painful experience, to put it lightly - she grimaced and backed further away from the metal sledgehammer swinging at her.

Yang had skill and power, and she wasn’t afraid to use it.  Blake might be quicker, but that hardly mattered when she was being backed into a corner.

After miraculously dodging two more attacks, she found herself caught out of position while a metal rocket flew towards her head.  Right before it connected, however, Yang opened her fist and smacked Blake’s cheek open-handed.  

The force was still enough to send Blake reeling backward, and Yang quickly closed the gap between them.  Her intent was clear - forcing Blake to the other side of the room - but there was nothing Blake could do to stop it while focusing on the fists hurtling towards her.  If she found another opening - no matter how small - 

After a fist flew by her head, she grabbed ahold and twisted with all her might.  Using Yang’s momentum against her, Blake flipped her onto the bed before swiftly following and pinning Yang’s arms by her sides.  

Blake immediately realized what a precarious situation she put herself in, straddling Yang’s hips and possessing not even a fraction of the strength she needed to hold Yang’s metal arm in place.  Yang noticed too, and smirked up at her.

“Thought you declined this option.”

Though Blake was in no position to call this any sort of victory, she scoffed.  

“You don’t want me on top, believe me.”

“Maybe I do.” 

Before Blake could respond, Yang bucked her hips and flipped their positions.  Now, she had Blake’s hands pinned above her head, putting her in an even more vulnerable position than before.  

“Or maybe I like being on top,” Yang added with a sly smile.  

Even though Blake struggled to free herself, it didn’t take long to understand that there was physically no way for her to get out of Yang’s grasp.  Remarkably, she wasn’t afraid - not like she would be if Cinder or Adam had her in the same position.  Somehow, she knew Yang wouldn’t hurt her.  How she knew that, she didn’t know.  Maybe it was intuition after seeing Yang save those people.  Maybe it was the look in Yang’s eyes - still red, but lighter than before.

“Concede?” Yang asked with a raised brow and an amused smile threatening to lift her lips.  After struggling for a few more seconds, Blake gave up and sighed.

“Concede.”

Yang immediately released Blake’s arms and stood up, then extended a hand and helped Blake to her feet.  As soon as Blake was standing, she flinched and gingerly touched her side.  She had a stitch where Yang’s fist landed, and her cheek stung where Yang whacked it, but other than that she was none the worse for wear.

“You ok?”

“I’ve been worse.”  After touching her cheek, which was warm and probably red, Blake looked at Yang.  “You?”

“Please,” Yang scoffed.  “You barely touched me.”

“Guess that’s from hitting your chin on the door then,” Blake said while motioning to the red mark on Yang’s jaw.

“I’m clumsy like that.”  

When Yang smiled at the lie, Blake chuckled and shook her head.  It amazed her how different this felt, and how different Yang was right now.  Was it the comfort of her room?  Was it Blake’s presence?  Was it that relaxing to randomly spar in the afternoon?  Whatever caused the change in mood, Blake wanted to know, and she wanted it to happen again.

“So...up for another round?”  

When Yang looked pointedly at the bed and winked, Blake shook her head.

“I’ve been told to keep my hands off.  Don’t want Adam floating me.”  

She knew it was the wrong thing to say the instant Yang’s expression clouded.

“Adam doesn’t own me,” Yang snapped before turning away.  For a second, Blake considered leaving rather than risk Yang’s anger, but something told her not to go.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized instead, and actually meant it.  “It’s just what I’ve heard…”

“Don’t believe everything you hear,” Yang countered.

“That seems to be the theme around here.”

While Blake watched, curious about what the response might be, Yang sighed and let her shoulders drop.  Again, her anger or annoyance disappeared quickly.

“I don’t belong to anyone,” she repeated, though there was much less defiance in her tone than before.  And her eyes, which Blake could read better with every new emotion Yang showed her, reflected something closer to uncertainty.

“Ok.”  

Blake raised her hands to show that she didn’t want to argue, but Yang sighed again before clenching her jaw.

“You should get back to your room.”  

Just like that, Blake knew that this interaction was over.  Yang’s no-nonsense tone had returned, and she brushed past Blake on the way to the door.  Before opening it, however, she paused and met Blake’s gaze.

“Thanks for the fight.  But don’t follow me again.”

In two sentences, Yang showed her conflicting personalities but gave Blake no opportunity to question it.  Instead, she opened the door, poked her head into the hall, and motioned that it was safe to go.  

Not wasting the opportunity, Blake hurried out of the room without a word, but didn’t round the next corner without glancing over her shoulder first.  When she found Yang still standing in the doorway, watching her go, uncertainty and confusion flitted through her chest.

She hadn’t expected anything that just happened, but now...now, she didn’t know how she felt.  She’d suspected Yang was different from the rest of the crew, and that interaction all but confirmed it.  There was another side to her, but it took the perfect set of circumstances for that other, softer personality to come out.

Rushing back to her room, Blake sighed and shook her head.  This mission wasn’t turning out at all like expected...