It Could Be Worse
Episode 2: The Guy With The Bike
By Sulia Serafine
[1-14-01. A Protector of the Small fanfic set in an alternate universe; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me.
Oh, one more thing: BAD LANGUAGE (I. E. cursing, swearing…). You have been warned!
I'd also like to thank those who gave me help with the character descriptions. If anyone else want to help me, please e-mail me at silverwLng@aol.com, okay? I'm finally getting around to working on my tiny website, and there's a new section for my Tortall stories. I'll tell you the address when I deem it worthy to be seen by you. Enjoy the chapter, I know you've been waiting for it! Please, tell me what you think. I'd also like to once again thank those who made ALLO a success. This one's for you.]
Four Days Later:
Keladry and Owen sat across from Neal from where he lay in the infirmary. He was wearing a white hospital gown with a yellow robe. His skin remained pale and his nose stuffed. The two healthy officers nervously sat twiddling their thumbs or tapping their heels. They were still in casual uniform; Kel's being blue and Owen's being brown. They weren't sure of what to do. Neal was confined to the infirmary for the next four months. And they were going on to do great things outside the infirmary.
"Stop it with those expressions. I'm not going to die or anything," Neal said.
"We know," Owen replied. "It's just… You look like crap."
Kel elbowed him in the ribs. "Don't say crap. We're 1B's, remember?"
Neal laughed out loud, though at the end he started coughing. They looked on, concerned. "Hey! Here I am, stuck with the Copper Flu, and Miss Tough Stuff is crusading to make us two guys into gentlemen! Ha!"
"Well, someone has to. I can't have the girls you talk with be offended by your poor language."
Owen nodded with a grin. "Yeah! They have to be offended by your personality instead!" He burst into laughter. "OW! Keladry, stop doing that!"
She rolled her eyes and withdrew her elbow again. All of a sudden, she was reminded of her duties. She lifted up her wristband to check the time on her pager. She mentally slapped her forehead for her carelessness. Neal frowned.
"Is something wrong?"
She stood up and straightened her shirt. Then Keladry glanced back and forth from her two best friends. "Yeah. I have to get out of casual uniform and into field uniform, then report to Wyldon. It's been four days, remember?"
"You're going to drop by at the Main Entrance to say goodbye, aren't you?" Owen pouted. "You know I'm leaving today, Kel."
"I know." She sighed. "I'll be there. Don't worry." She forced something that she hoped was a smile. " See you later."
~~
Keladry ambled down the hall of Dorm 6 for B officers of all ranks. She lazily read each room number as she passed although she had no need to. Dorm 6 had been her home for two years ever since she moved out of the apprentices' section at Dorm 1. "Room 110… 111… 112…. Ah. Here I am. Room 113."
She held up her wrist to be scanned again and entered. "Lights," she called. The florescent lighting above illuminated the room immediately. She unzipped her blue vest and folded it neatly. Then she placed it with the rest of her belongings in the stacks to be packed.
"I hope this mission goes well. I need to do a lot of things to impress the DJPF Council to get myself promoted," she thought and turned on the holo-screen. Within the last hour, there had been a crash involving three civilian cars and one civilian hover-car. Apparently, the driver of the hover car mistakenly programmed his vehicle and it crossed the divider and collided with the ground vehicles.
"Irresponsible," she muttered while pulling on her boots and strapping on the shin guard. There was a lot to her field uniform. Besides the boots and shin guards, there were these small kneepads made out of some new-age material that kept it thin and comfortable. Around the tops of her arms and her thighs was Hyperion bands. They were also designed like the kneepads to be thin, but protective, and very flexible. It took a long time to put them on, having to link every single one correctly.
"By Glory," Keladry swore under her breath-- it being a native exclamation where she came from up north. "Where are my belts and gloves?" She got down on her knees and checked under her bed. Seeing nothing, she stuck her arm under and groped for anything that might be underneath. She came up with nothing and stood back up.
"I must have packed them," she thought and sorted through the stacks again. She found the three belts. One for her ID disks and other compartments; the other two were to hang diagonally and holster each one of her registered weapons. Keladry could care less about her gun. She was especially proud of the energy glaive her brother gave her after she graduated. Energy glaive was a fancy term for extendible pole with a mean looking flare on the end. Finally, Keladry found her gloves and put on her shoulder pads. She went to the mirror in her bathroom and examined herself. She was mostly wearing gray except for the baby blue stripe that ran down her front and back and also colored her shin guards.
"Time to go," she thought and was about to head out the door when her communications screen beeped. "Who could that be?" she wondered and went back to wear it was on her table. "Mindelan speaking."
"Mindelan! I'm glad I caught you." It was the commissioner. What did he want with her? She was about to go and see him, wasn't she? He continued. "I have something else for you to do before you come for briefing."
"Yes, sir?" she asked.
"Stone's late. I have also realized that he's never been to headquarters before."
"S-sir?" she stammered. It was highly out of the ordinary for any person associated to the DJPF to not have visited headquarters before. How was it possible that this Stone person had never been there?
The Commissioner answered her unspoken question. He seemed amused. "He's never had a chance ever since we assigned him to Tusaine. Go down to the back of the building. You know-- the loading docks? Most officers arrive through there." He paused. "Any questions, Mindelan?"
"No, sir." She switched hands holding the screen and saluted.
"Dismissed."
The screen turned off. Keladry put it down on the table again. She froze. "I'm an idiot! I completely forgot to ask what he looks like!" She groaned and picked up the screen again. She couldn't call the commissioner. That would look bad. Then a thought came to her. If Neal went to the academy with him, he ought to know what he looked like. She quickly dialed the number for the infirmary.
"Yes?" Neal coughed. "Oh, Kel! What's up?"
"What does Joren Stone look like?"
"Uh, excuse me?"
"You heard me. What does he look like? I'm going to meet him at the loading dock right now."
Neal tried to stifle a laugh. She glared at him, and he stopped. "Well, hey. Why don't you switch to your wristband and I can tell you while you're going down." He lifted one eyebrow. "You don't want to be late, do you, Tough Stuff?"
He had a point. So, she turned on her wristband communicator, switching off from the pager. Then she turned off her communications screen. "Okay. You can talk now."
She walked out of her room, hearing the doors slide closed behind her. Then she jogged over the elevator at the end of the hall and waited for it to come. She lifted her wrist and impatiently said, "Start talking."
Neal laughed. "Okay, okay. So, as far as I remember, he's a complete asshole--"
"NEAL!"
"Sorry! I won't swear! I promise! But," he laughed. "Swearing is part of my memories for the guy."
She boarded the elevator and put in the coordinates for the loading dock. There was a humming sound as she began to descend. It was very dim in the dorm elevator, and the only lights were the ones on the holo-screen behind her and each dorm floor as she passed it. When she first came to the dorms, it had irritated her. The darkness was always scary at first, no matter who you were.
She didn't talk to Neal until she arrived at the loading dock. People were busy moving crates around and also checking in other precious cargo, such as the new training weapons for the apprentices, or shipment of uniforms. Keladry carefully made her way around without getting run over by a forklift.
"So? Physically, describe."
Neal sighed. "Okay. He's blonde, uh blue eyes."
She frowned. "Don't tell me the Prince Charming Looks…"
"Unfortunately. Don't let it fool you."
Keladry hated the handsome guys who were too good to be true. Something about deception and how most guys like that she met were plain aggravating. It held true to fact in this case. She snorted. "It won't."
"Um… I'd say he's about your height. You're pretty tall, you know?"
"I know. So, keep talking."
He paused. "He rides a bike. A really, really, really, nice bike."
She pursed her lips to keep from laughing. "A really, really, really, nice bike?"
"Yes! Don't make fun of it. If there's one blasted thing I remember about Joren Stone, was that he had a thing for bikes of all types-- motorcycles, hoverbikes… Kind of liked motor cross. I'm not sure. But what did his bike look like? I don't remember what his looked like. He might have gotten a new one by now. But I swear, I remember calling it Beautiful with a capital B."
Keladry shook her head while going outside into the fresh air. "You call a machine beautiful?"
"Yes, yes I do. His machine was like that. No matter how much everyone disliked the guy, everyone also had to love his bike."
She leaned on a stack of crates beside a hover- truck. Most vehicles that spent a lot of fuel traveling on ground were now forced to become hover vehicles, electrically powered, to keep the air from being polluted. Other cars both--air and ground-- arrived, driving past. A few third class female officers gathered on their breaks to watch the dockhands load and unload the cargo from the trucks. They giggled and pointed every now and then at one muscle-bound man.
"Ugh. I hate it when girls like them do that," she thought and shook her head. It was to degrading of her gender to spend their free time ogling over guys. She would rather spend it sparring with the Eda Bell and Hakuin Seastone. It also didn't help that she never fit in with the normal crowd of girls while growing up. "Which leads to the fact that my two best friends are guys…" She rolled her eyes. "Guys who call me Miss Tough Stuff."
All of a sudden, everyone turned to the gates around the loading docks, past the incoming vehicles to a cloud of dust on the highway traveling at incredible speed. The group of giggling girls hushed themselves and hurried forward to see who it was. Keladry, very interested, lifted up her wrist again.
"Hey, Neal. I'll see you later."
"Okay. Bye."
She squinted her eyes to see the approaching dust cloud. It was a biker. He was off by a hundred yards now, standing out against the pale gray surroundings with his pitch-black motorcycle. Its sleek shape glinted in the sunlight. Keladry couldn't help it. She mouthed the word 'wow' and continued to look on as it approached.
As the biker neared, he slowed down, but his decreased speed did not hinder his splendid entrance. The loud sounds from his bike caused some of the more sensitive-hearing men to cover their ears and walk away. But the troupe of giggling women came even closer as he came to a stop at a parking spot for bikes. He turned the off the engine, leaned on one side, then swung his leg over. Leaving it supported on a stand, he began to walk toward the dock's information desk.
He wore a black field uniform with a blood red stripe down the front. He was definitely lean and walked so fluidly that Keladry wondered if anyone else could walk more so. On the outer parts of each thigh were two black disks. Those were sensors that most bikers wore for police to track them in case they had a speeding violation.
As he walked oh-so-smoothly to the desk, he reached up with his gloved hands and took off his helmet. A mass of straight blond hair fell messily around his ears, but the mussed look worked well for him. His cold blue eyes were set under serious eyebrows and his skin was flawlessly pale. He tucked his helmet under his arm.
"Don't… don't tell me he's…" Keladry began.
"Hey, handsome! Over here!" one of the bolder women walked up to him and stood in his path. The woman tossed her curly brown hair over her shoulder and licked her cherry lips. She shifted hips and winked at him. "What's your name, hot stuff?"
He stared at her for about ten seconds, then began to look her up and down. Sizing her up. "Who the hell are you?"
She became slightly peeved. "I'm Lania Oakbridge, daughter to Councilman Upton Oakbridge? I'm a third class officer here."
He nodded slowly. "Right…" Then he stopped and brushed passed her. "Don't waste my time."
Another girl tried her luck as she met him at the information desk. He let out a frustrated sigh and waited for her to speak. This one had black hair tied back in a ponytail. She seemed a little better than the first. "Hi there! You're new here, aren't you? Can I show you around?"
Once again, he gave her a once over and spoke after five seconds. "Are you Keladry Mindelan?"
"Hell no!" she laughed bubbly.
"Then, goodbye," he turned on his heel and walked away. The girl was furious and screamed at him. He paid no mind and continued to move away until he came near Keladry. She rolled her eyes and supposed that she might as well talk to him.
"Hey!" she called over to him. When he didn't approach her, she pushed off the crates she was leaning on and came to him. Before Keladry could talk, he spoke with evident irritation.
"If you're going to hit on me, save yourself the trouble and walk away. I don't care for flirtatious girls, who don't know a damned thing about hard work," he spat. His voice was sharper than the finest chef's knife. Keladry folded her arms.
"No," Keladry replied, although annoyed by the hostility of his response. "I'm Keladry Mindelan. And you're obviously--"
"Joren Stone," he finished for her with a slight nod. "Thank Heaven, you actually look like you know what you're doing."
She narrowed her eyes and clenched her teeth. "Yeah." She held out her hand, forcing herself to be polite. Neal and Owen were right. She just met him, and she could tell he was a jerk. "It's nice to meet you, partner."
He glanced at her hand but made no attempt to hold out his. "Where's the commissioner's office?"
She dropped her hand and nodded her head. "That way. I'll show you."
They walked in silence to the commissioner's office. His strides, although fluid, were fast, and Keladry had to exert some effort on her part to keep up as well as trying not to look like she had to keep up. When they finally reached the Main Office, Keladry's cheeks were flushed. And not wanting him to see, she fell back so he entered the office first.
"It's the one at the end," she pointed out. He nodded and continued forward.
The office doors were already open as a secretary scurried out. The commissioner was standing with his back toward them as he looked out his window and over the city. He heard them come in. "Please, officers. Have a seat."
They reluctantly sat down. Joren rested his helmet on his knee and never glanced at Keladry once. Feeling insecure, as could possibly be Keladry sat up straighter in her chair. Wyldon turned around. "It's nice to see you again, Officer Stone."
"Sir," the special operative answered with a curt nod.
"I hope you find Headquarters to be all that it's been rumored to be in Tusaine."
Joren shrugged. "I suppose."
"And you've met your new partner, Keladry Mindelan?"
"At the loading dock, yes." He glanced at her briefly, then returned his gaze to Wyldon. "Can you please get to the point?"
Keladry bristled at his lack of respect for the commissioner. Even stuffy old Wyldon deserved more respect than that.
"Yes. The mission," Wyldon cleared his throat. "As soon as tomorrow, the two of you are to depart for Carthak City. While remaining discreet, locate and capture Ozorne Tasikhe and use the local DJPF to handle his rebels. You are a fine officer, Stone, and I expect results. This won't be much of a challenge for an operative like you. Although I'd prefer your mood to be toned down, yes?"
The blonde snorted.
"And as for you, Mindelan. This is your chance to prove yourself. Regardless of how this mission turns out, you will remain partners with Stone here until I say so. Enjoy your trip abroad, Mindelan. Dismissed."
Keladry immediately stood up and saluted while Joren took his time getting up and giving a weak salute. Wyldon glared at him, but the young man ignored it and walked out. Keladry gritted her teeth and followed him.
"You know, you could at least try," she mumbled.
"Try what? I heard you, you know."
Her head snapped up when she realized he was talking. "Well, you can try to act like you care for starters."
Joren froze. He turned to her and smiled. She suspiciously stared at him. "Listen here, partner."
"What?" She folded her arms, trying to act like she wasn't intimidated.
"There are only three things on this earth that I care about."
"Oh?"
"The bike," he counted on one gloved finger. "Me…" He paused as he counted on a second finger. "And the bike."
She glared at him. "I see."
"Look, we'll work through this. I stay out of your way, and you stay out of mine. Okay?"
"Fine with me." "Jerk," she added silently.
He looked around. "I'm going to get a temporary room for the night. What's your room number?"
"Huh?"
He sighed. "To find you in the morning. You know?"
"Oh," she coughed quietly. "It's in Dorm 6, Room 113."
He nodded and walked over to the Assignments Office. He knocked on the counter. "Hey."
"Yes, how can I help you?" A secretary cheerfully asked.
"I need a room for the night near Dorm 6 and a temporary set of clothes."
"All right then," the secretary chirped. She searched her database. "There's a vacant room in Dorm 6. You can have that one." She gestured for him to show her his wrist. She scanned the pager screen ID. "It's Room 92. And you can pick up your clothes at the Dorm Administration."
He nodded and walked back to Keladry. "You heard her. Come on, let's go. We have to leave early."
Keladry looked at her pager, realizing it was almost time for Owen to leave. "I can't right now. I have to meet someone."
"Fine. Try to get a lot of sleep."
She paused. He was being nice? "Uh, tha--"
"I don't want a partner who falls asleep on the job."
She glared at him as he walked away. Keladry hit the recall button on her wristband. Neal answered.
"Hey, so how did it go? Asshole?"
"Asshole," she confirmed, not even caring if she swore for once. "You were right."
"I'm sorry, Kel. But hey! I got an idea. Since I'm stuck here doing nothing for the next few months, I'll just talk to you via pager whenever you want!"
She smiled. "Thanks. I'm going to say goodbye to Owen. Did you?"
"Yeah. Bonehead dropped by."
"Okay. Talk to you later."
She went to the Main Entrance and searched for Owen. She finally found him sitting on a bench, checking his own wrist for the time. When he saw her, he jumped up and whooped. "I knew you wouldn't let me leave without saying goodbye!"
"Of course." She hooked her thumbs into her belt. "Just don't forget to call once a week."
He saluted. "Yes, ma'am!" His expression saddened. "I just wish I could go on an adventure like you are."
"Adventure? Um, in case you're forgetting-- Joren Stone?" she reminded.
"Oh, you're right. A grim adventure," he amended. His eyes suddenly lit up. "But don't you think his ride is cool?"
She grimaced. "Well, yeah. I guess."
"Oh, come on. I know you're not into that sort of thing, but don't tell me that you felt nothing."
Keladry chuckled and kicked the ground. "Okay, okay. I admit…"
"Yes?"
"Wow," she replied.
"I thought so." He gave her a quick hug. She ruffled his mass of brown curls. "Take care, Miss Tough Stuff."
"You, too, Bonehead. And stay out of trouble!" she called as he walked to his bus.
"I'm not making any promises!" He called back. And then he was gone.
Keladry returned to her room and made sure all her things were packed. She'd allowed Dorm Administration to rent out her room, just while she was gone. It still belonged to her. She looked back at all her stacks of things. Most of it was packed up to go into storage. On a mission as important as this, she didn't want to bring much at all. Joren managed to bring nothing that he couldn't fit onto the back of his bike. The thought of his efficiency annoyed her.
"Fine. One bag-- that's it," she told herself and began to assort her things.
~~
For the first time in years, Keladry slept in. She had spent a good part of the night talking to Neal while figuring out how to pack. She was going to show Joren that she could be just as good as him and pack lightly. But of course, this made her late.
"Hey! Mindelan!" Joren called from the intercom on her door. "Do you know what time it is?"
The door opened. Joren, in his field uniform, strode over to Keladry's bed and yanked the covers off. Keladry curled up instinctively to the sudden wave of cold air blowing over her body. She was clad in a tank top and some drawstring pants. It hardly constituted for a DJPF uniform. The operative stood over her, tapping his foot impatiently.
"Well?"
She opened her eyes and looked at the clock. "Oh, By Glory, I can't believe it!"
"You better believe it," he sneered. "Hurry up and get dressed. I'll wait outside."
As he left, she called back to him. "Hey!"
He blinked. "What do you want?"
"How did you get into my room? Only administration can."
He shrugged.
"I pick locks." And left. The door closed behind him. Keladry frowned. He could break into ID personal rooms, too? Now she really had to prove herself. Keladry stumbled into the bathroom after much incoherent mumbles to herself. A few moments later, she was prepped and ready to go. She slung her duffel bag over her shoulder and walked out.
Joren was leaning against the opposite wall, looking at the mini screen on his wrist. "It's about time. Let's go. We'll be taking the 556 shuttle bus to Corinth, and then ride bikes the rest of the way."
She yawned and started toward the elevator with him. "Wouldn't it be more convenient to take a car all the way there?"
"Are you kidding? This mission is supposed to be discreet. How discreet is a DJPF squad car in the middle of the Carthakian Slums?" he snorted. "And besides. I don't leave my bike behind."
"Then why don't you just marry the blasted thing," she muttered. Keladry inwardly groaned. It could be worse.
~~
Closing Credits:
Special thanks to those who helped me with descriptions:
( Note: these people are VERY cool. Do not mess with them.)
Kestrel
Erin (Hyper Girl to the Rescue)
Sullychkk (Ack! All I remembered was your e-mail! I'M SO SORRY! E-MAIL ME, OKAY?)
And also to the people who volunteered to help with my web page:
FireLily
Jaelawyn Noble (please e-mail me)
And if anyone is good with fixing web pages, please e-mail me. My e-mail is listed at top.