Here's my Fiction debut!
I hope it's enjoyable. Please do feel free to ask questions and give me feedback - I haven't got much experience at this kind of thing, so anything that helps me to learn would be greatly appreciated!
If it goes down well, I'd like to continue with more "Tales from the Caravan" as I don't think many have touched on the everyday life of a Thukker caravan.
Anyway, enough rambling, here's the story...
"Strained"
She was late.
Not that she cared; Khalia had allowed herself to become distracted in the bazaar on her way, stopping to browse the wares and talk with a merchant or a familiar face for a few minutes before moving on to the next stall.
By the time she arrived, she was nearly an hour overdue. She paused at the door to inspect herself, making sure that her mismatched clothing revealed just enough of her developing frame to earn disapproval. She took a few deep breaths, composing herself, mentally rehearsing her arguments and comebacks. Once satisfied that she was ready, she entered.
The small meeting room was typically Thukker; one table, two chairs and nothing else. A woman sat in the chair opposite to the door. She looked up as Khalia entered, sweeping her long dreadlocks back over her shoulders to reveal an attractive face, with an intricate tattoo framing her dark eyes. Her blood-red lips curled in a smile.
"I was beginning to think you weren't going to come," she said.
Khalia did not return the smile. She knew it wasn't genuine, having seen it before on the face of every merchant and Outrider she knew. Guile was second nature to her people.
"I'm surprised you waited," she replied coldly.
The woman held her smile, the girl's tone having no visible effect. She looked Khalia up and down, raising her eyebrows in interest.
"I like your outfit. Did you add your own touches?"
Now Khalia was becoming frustrated; her best efforts to antagonise the woman were falling short. She went for a more blunt attack.
"I figured you'd like the slutty look, Karynn."
There.
That shot landed. The woman's smile slipped, if only for a second.
"When are you getting your hair 'locked?" she continued, "It looks a bit, y'know, Caille that way."
The teenager run a hand through her hair self-consciously; it was short and sleek, black with fluorescent pink streaks. "I don't want dreads. I like it this way."
She dragged out the vacant chair with her foot, metal scraping along metal, before slumping into it wordlessly. A minute went by without either speaking, the only sound being the thrum of the Katanga's reactor, several decks below.
Karynn broke the stalemate; "So, what Circle are you with now?"
"Astrometrics," Khalia sighed disdainfully, "I figured I'd go in with the exploratory division."
"You'd be spending a lot of time away from the Caravan."
"Yes and from you, too."
Karynn nodded silently, looking down at the silver rings that adorned her fingers for a moment. She looked back up at the girl.
"Are you looking forward to your Voluval? It's only a few months away now, isn't it?"
Khalia shrugged, looking around the room restlessly. "As long as you're not planning on coming, it should be ok, I guess."
"Of course I'll be attending. It's my honour as Master, if nothing else, to attend the Voluvals."
The heavy table jarred as Khalia kicked a leg, muttering under her breath. She sighed, staring at the sheet-metal wall in silence for a few moments. She snapped her gaze back to Karynn.
"You got a smoke or a stick?".
"No. The Khargai arranges these meetings for us to talk with a clear head..."
Khalia tossed her head back with a forced laugh. "Ha! Listen to yourself! Since when have you had a clear head?"
Karynn's calm demeanour only infuriated the girl more.
"But I suppose you've never needed one, have you?" Khalia spat, "The Khargai makes all your decisions for you, doesn't she?"
At last, the smile dissolved. Karynn opened her mouth to retort, then bit her lip to hold herself back.
Khalia saw the breach and and continued her attack, "Khargai Talakha says sell drugs, so Karynn sells drugs. Khargai Talakha says sell slaves, so Karynn sells slaves. I mean... what the fuck?!"
She stood, kicking the chair back with a loud clatter, drawing her shoulders up and leaning over the table. "We're Matari! We should not be selling slaves!" Her voice began to break as she flung her words out in rage. "And the things I've heard them saying in the bazaar..."
Karynn's eyes narrowed, focusing sharply on the girl. "What things?" she said, flatly but softly.
Khalia leaned further across the table, bearing her intense gaze down on to the older woman. "There's talk of Blooders. And children."
She had wanted to feel elation and victory at this point; to watch Karynn squirm uncomfortably and protest her innocence, to refute the dark rumours and reassure her that there were limits to how far one should go.
But she had not expected to see the look that was returned to her. She felt a cold lump in the pit of her stomach, every part of her recoiling in horror.
"No... it's just a rumour, right?"
Karynn stood and reached out to touch the girl's arm. "Khali,"
She whipped her arm away, backing up against the door.
"No! You don't fucking touch me! You don't say anything to me!" her voice shattered.
"Khalia!" Karynn said firmly, "The Master must make tough decisions sometimes, you know this. One day you will have to make tough decisions yourself, when you lead this Caravan."
"I don't want to lead this fucking Caravan!" the girl shrieked, "I don't want anything to do with you!" she slammed her hand on the door control, ready to bolt out of the room.
"You are my daughter, Khalia. You can't just walk away from that." Karynn's tone remained firm, with a slight hint of menace.
Khalia stood in the open doorway, her shoulders shaking, staring out into the corridor. She turned slowly and locked eyes with Karynn. "You are not my mother. And just watch me run from you."