Amila clearly wasn't happy about the events, aiming a glare at Jin before taking a seat in the row behind them.
Kira shook her head at Jin. Sometimes his ridiculousness amazed her.
"Thank you for sitting with us during the return," Joule said.
Kira turned her attention to the two sitting in front of her, facing her.
The two traded a glance, having a whole conversation while Kira watched, with not a word exchanged.
Finally, Joule focused on her. "Where did you learn to fight like that?"
Kira tapped her finger on her leg as she studied him. She should have known that would be his question.
"Many places," Kira finally said.
Her training may have started in the awful compound of her earliest memories, but it continued for long after her rescue. She'd studied every type of martial arts she could find, adapting them into her own style until they'd become something new. The crucible of war had further honed those skills, sharpening and testing them until what emerged was a weapon, dreadful and deadly.
"Can you teach me?" There was an ache to his voice, as if his entire future rested on her answer, the fear of disappointment in his eyes.
Kira shifted in her seat, trying to get comfortable as she tried to find a polite way to tell him no. This was no easy thing he was asking. It would take years to build him into an adequate warrior. Years she didn't plan on devoting to the effort.
"Why do you want to learn?" Jin asked.
Joule stiffened, his chin lifting. "I need to be able to protect us."
"There are other ways of protecting yourself," Jin said, his voice emotionless. "You don't have to become a warrior."
"There aren't," Joule snapped. "This is the best way. We never want to be as weak as we were before. I won't watch anyone else die in front of me while I stand by."
Kira felt an ugly twist inside.
"He's just like you at that age," Jin said wryly.
"Just as stupid too." Kira sat forward and fixed Joule with a dark gaze. "I'm not going to help you down that path, kid. I don't have the time, and honestly, I don't want to."
His mouth formed a stubborn line as he scowled at her.
Ziva sat up tall. "What about the move you used on the Tsavitee?"
Kira flicked a glance at the girl. "Not possible. You need a strong foundation both physically and conceptually to perform that move, which neither of you has. Do it wrong and you could do more damage to yourself than your opponent."
Both of their faces fell, leaving Kira feeling like a monster.
"Why me? There seem to be plenty of warriors here," she said. "Ask one of them. Liont and Fari seem willing."
The two traded another glance.
"They tried, but they can only teach us so much. The others won't help." Joule said. "We're not of their House, and we have the potential to grow into an enemy. Even once our name is wiped away and we're added to another House, it's likely neither of us will be trained as warriors since we'll never be considered one of them."
Kira shrugged. "That doesn't sound too bad to me. Find something you like doing and live a life of peace."
"Our families have been warriors for generations. Not following in their footsteps would mean turning our backs on their legacy," Joule said stiffly.
"They're going to split us up and send us to different families," Ziva said, her eyes sad. The look in them slipped through Kira's defenses to prick at her conscience.
Both children stared at her. The boy defiantly—he'd pursue this even without Kira's help. Probably manage to get himself hurt too. Ziva's gaze was more trusting and innocent. She actually believed, down to the bottom of her little soul, Kira had the answers.
Kira rubbed her forehead and looked away, out the window of the shuttle. They'd left the ship and now approached the planet, its warm glow growing bigger with each second, blocking out the black of space.
