"Why go so far for them?" Graydon asked.
Kira fell into step beside him, brushing one hand against the trees they passed. She didn't have to ask what he meant. "One of my first memories is watching a boy have the flesh whipped from his back."
That boy had been Jin. He had committed some infraction neither of them remembered anymore. Their keepers had punished him severely for it. It hadn't been the first time, nor had it been the last.
Kira ignored Graydon as he stopped, his expression severe. Dark emotion rolled off him.
"My next memory is having the same done to me," Kira said. "Say what you want about the humans and their motives, but they saved me from that fate."
And for that they would have her undying gratitude. If Himoto hadn't arrived when he did, it was likely Kira would be dead. Or worse, turned into a merciless weapon with no concept of morals or ethics. Just a tool someone pointed and fired at the enemy.
She could never repay Himoto for saving her from that fate, though it hadn't stopped her from spending half her life trying, even when it broke her to do so.
Liara and Graydon hadn’t asked many questions about her childhood in the camp. Partly because it hadn’t been Graydon’s place, and Liara hadn’t had enough time with Kira to broach the subject.
She knew both half-suspected humans had been involved. It had taken her a while to get to that conclusion, but now that she had, it made sense. It explained their dislike of humans if nothing else.
How would they react if they found out their suspicions were only half of the puzzle? The question haunted Kira and was one reason she refused to let herself get too invested in the Tuann.
Because humans hadn’t overseen that camp or the countless others she’d tracked down in secret through the years. Tsavitee had.
Graydon's body became a tightly coiled spring with no outlet for the tempest of emotions she could see moving across his face. He didn't speak for a long moment, his gaze growing distant as if he wrestled with some great inner turmoil.
He drew her to a stop, his expression inscrutable as she stared up at him, waiting patiently. She raised her chin.
She didn't often share her past with others. She hated the looks of pity and sympathy, or worse, the judgment that came when they found out about what she'd done in the name of survival.
She wasn't ashamed of her history. She'd survived it and wore its scars like the badge of honor they were.
She'd decided giving Graydon a piece of what she'd endured was necessary for him to understand how deep her loyalty to the Fleet and the Consortium went. She wasn't a child clinging to the familiar. She had history with them, the sort not easily untangled to make room for something new.
He touched a sore spot on her cheek where a bruise must have formed. His fingertips were almost unbearably gentle as his eyes became soft and searching.
Lyrical words came from him, the promise in them almost tangible.
There was a slight gasp of surprise from Joule behind her, hinting more was happening than a simple expression of sympathy for her beginnings.
Kira stiffened, her expression becoming guarded and watchful.
The moment was broken by rustling in the branches next to them. Both of them froze, realization they were being watched sinking in.
Kira flicked her eyes to the right and down, asking if he was ready.
He gave her a careful nod, his hand dropping, so his thumb could skate across her collarbone in a delicious caress. Shivers skated over her skin despite the tense moment.
He grinned wickedly at her, his eyes dancing as she returned the fierce expression.
Together they moved, Graydon blocking the person's escape on one side as Kira reached in and snagged an arm, yanking the watcher out of their hiding spot.
Snarled hair and a dirty face were the first things to register. Kira realized she held a young child, her face scraped and bruised, blood dotting her shirt.
"Ziva," Joule exclaimed in horror.
"Didn't your mother tell you it's rude to spy on others?" Kira asked, setting Ziva gently down, mindful of the bruises that covered the child.
Ziva looked like she'd been on the losing end of a fight. Her left eye was beginning to turn purple and swell while her expression remained rebellious and truculent.
"My parents told me a smart first watched friends and enemy alike to make sure they weren't plotting against them," Ziva said defiantly.
"It sounds like your parents would have gotten along nicely with Jin," Kira observed.
The response was odd enough for Ziva to lose some of the defensiveness, her natural curiosity serving to make her more receptive to questions.
"What happened?" Kira asked.
Ziva's shoulders rounded as she stubbed a toe into the ground. She kept quiet, her head bowed as she made a concentrated effort to avoid meeting Kira and Graydon's eyes.
"She probably picked a fight," Joule accused.
The way Ziva hunched in on herself, like a turtle seeking the safety of its shell, told Kira he'd guessed right.
Kira glanced up at Graydon, expecting him to take the lead since both children were under his care. He arched an eyebrow at her, signaling with a supercilious expression she could deal with this problem.
Kira shook her head.
Why her?
She glanced to where the defiant child watched her carefully.
Kira sighed. She remembered what it was like to be that age and mad at the world. She’d had so much rage at the injustices dumped at her feet that sometimes it felt like her skin was a balloon. One wrong word could make it pop, causing all that rage and pain to come pouring out, oftentimes in violent and destructive ways.
She saw too much of herself in Ziva. More so, even than she did Joule. Ziva was a survivor, scrappy and stubborn. Her family had been taken from her in a manner Kira suspected had been bloody and violent. She'd been uprooted from all she knew and thrust into a House that didn't seem to want or need her.
Demands and angry recriminations were more likely to make her retreat further.
Kira waited patiently, crouching so she was eye level with Ziva.
"Stop stalling," Joule said impatiently.
Kira held up a hand, motioning for silence. She waited until Ziva looked up at her, the expression in her clear blue eyes trying to tug at Kira's heart.
Kira lips curled in a small smile. Ziva would have to work harder than that to get the sympathy vote from her.
Kira lifted her eyebrow's expectantly. "Well?"
"They said we were mutts," Ziva muttered. "And that we should be grateful for what we were given and not get uppity."
"And?" Kira asked.
Ziva shrugged. "And I challenged them to a duel."
Kira glanced up at Graydon, asking silently if this was normal protocol for children.
"As long as no one is injured permanently and there is no danger of death, an adult will not step in. We believe children should learn from their own experiences rather than being told what to do."
Kira tried not to let her surprised consternation show. She turned to Ziva. "What happened then?"
"I lost." Ziva's eyes flashed up to meet Kira's.
Kira nodded, considering and discarding several responses. "Well, that was dumb."
Mutiny flashed across Ziva's face, her tiny body bunching as if she would leap for Kira's face. "It was not," she shouted. "I defended my family's honor."