"You shouldn't challenge them like that," Finn advised, finally speaking.
"Then they shouldn't be staring."
"Can you blame them?" he asked. "You're an impossibility they'd forgotten to hope for. They're bound to be a little curious."
It wasn't lost on Kira that Finn used the phrase "them" when referring to the Roake caught staring. It meant either he no longer identified with his former House or that he harbored enough pain that he was afraid to lump himself in the same boat.
Kira's posture shifted infinitesimally, enough that she no longer felt like she was on high alert for an attack. It had been a while since her instincts had led her to view everything and everyone around her as an enemy.
Kira supposed that as long as their curiosity didn't lead them to do anything stupid, she was content to let them watch from a distance.
Finn stopped in front of a large door. "We're here."
Kira hesitated on the threshold.
Like the rest of the fortress, the room had stone walls and floors, while still managing to seem homey and inviting. There were no windows, which in a way made sense. Everything Roake did showed a mindset focused on survival. Locating your hospital wing behind thick walls in the center of your stronghold made sense. It would allow healers to treat their patients without worrying a missile attack would breach their sanctuary unexpectedly.
Despite its lack of windows, it managed to appear light and airy without seeming artificial.
Kira wouldn't have minded knowing how they did that. The Wanderer could have used a little of this lighting. Even with UV lamps, she sometimes found herself missing the sun and natural light.
Far from being empty, the room contained more Tuann then Kira had expected. The healer worked briskly; her movements efficient as she tended to the Tuann sitting in the bed. The man was tall, his shoulders broad, his arms and torso corded with muscle. He had rough looking features and an unrefined air.
Next to him stood a woman clad in training leathers, frowning. Her arms were folded over her chest as she watched the healer clean a cut the length of the Tuann’s bicep.
Both seemed younger than Graydon's oshota, but with the Tuann, it was hard to tell. For all she knew, they could be several centuries old.
Kira and Finn's entrance drew the trio's attention. The warriors glanced up, not bothering to hide their interest.
The healer remained focused on the man's wound, a five-inch cut, the edges raw and bloody. The instrument in her hands glowed as she moved it slowly over the wound, the jagged edges sealing themselves shut.
"I'll be with you in a minute," the healer called over her shoulder.
The words were said in Tuann, but even with her less than perfect grasp of the language, Kira understood.
Instead of answering, Kira stuck her hands in her pocket as she drifted around the room, taking careful stock.
It didn't resemble a human med bay, lacking the fancy monitors or equipment she normally associated with them. There was none of the sickly-sweet smell of antiseptic, nor was there a general air of desperation.
Only the healer working on the Tuann's wound and the faint coppery smell of blood suggested this was a working med bay. Well, that and the row of beds, which weren't nearly enough for a fortress of this size.
She studied the room with interest. If Kira had to guess, she'd say there were several tens of thousands of people living behind the fortress's sturdy walls. This small room couldn't possibly be big enough to act as their hospital.
Even judging by Kira's boosted immune system, there would need to be much more than this for a structure of this size.
Kira kept her questions to herself, conscious of the two warriors who were aware of her presence. They weren't being obvious about their attention, but she knew they were as conscious of her as she was of them.
The two traded glances but said nothing.
Kira clasped her hands behind her and settled in to wait, something she had grown used to. In the military, everything was a rush until it wasn't. Sometimes you spent hours waiting for action of any sort.
The Wanderer had been different. There, they could move at their own pace. She found she didn't miss the whole hurry up and wait mentality.
The woman sat back, throwing an irritated glance her way. Several lyrical words flowed from her.
Kira stared blankly.
The woman's voice turned sharp and cutting. A small smile crept across Kira's face. That was quite the dressing down. She was sure it would have been epic had Kira understood more than every other word.
The healer scowled, Kira's amusement not sitting well. Her voice rose.
Kira remained silent. How long would it be before the woman realized Kira didn't understand?
The two warriors traded a glance again before the one standing said something quick, her words precise and fluid.
Finn finally moved at Kira's back. His voice was rough as he spoke.
All three stared at Kira.
Quillon walked into the room right then, moving quickly. "Sorry I'm late, Kira. I had to finish briefing some of our people about what happened on Ta Da’an."
Kira inclined her head. "It's fine."
It really wasn't. Not when she would have very much preferred being anywhere else.
Quillon glanced at the other three, quirking an eyebrow as he took them in. He kept to human standard as he asked, "Did you have another accident during training?”
The big man's face was sheepish as he withdrew his arm from the healer's hold, answering in the same language. "Nothing so interesting."
"He was practicing one of those tricks he saw on the human holovids." The woman beside him scowled. "Only they don't work quite so well with our technology. He lost his balance. This is the result."
Quillon made a thoughtful sound.
The woman's gaze darted to Kira's, and she slipped into Tuann, the words a waterfall of sound.
"I imagine he'll tell you what he wants you to know," Quillon said in standard with a hint of reproach. "Until then, return to the training hall."
"Of course, aza,” the woman inclined her head before tapping her friend on the shoulder and nudging him toward the exit.
He lumbered to his feet. He flicked his wrists out, and his armor began crawling up his skin in panels, shaping around him in an impressive feat of technology.
The two weren't oshota, Kira didn't think. Their armor was different, but it looked no less formidable.
"You ready to finish this?" the man asked the woman in accented standard.
She grinned. "You're the one who bruised his poor little arm."
The man snorted as he padded toward the door, the woman trailing him.
"Do not strain my regen stitches, Blake. Rheya, keep an eye on him and make sure he listens this time." The healer shouted after them before muttering, "Paltry bruise, my ass. Nearly all the tendons were severed. It took me over an hour to get them reattached. They're worse than children."
"All warriors are," Quillon said as the woman put away the small tool that resembled a penlight. "I see Blake hasn't changed. He can still convince you to go against your better judgment." There was a pause. "And my orders."
The woman flushed, her gaze darting to Kira and away. "I'm sorry, aza. I thought I could be done before you arrived."