is among them.”
Tigh stood abruptly. “Ginny is fighting?”
“She is with them, though I did not see her engaging in combat. Still, Med Officer Jek’al thought you’d want to know and sent me straight to you.”
Tigh was already striding out the door as quickly as his long legs would carry him. “You’re damn right I’d want to know. Ginny should not be risking her health in such a way when she is pregnant.”
The corpsman hopped to keep up, his shorter legs a disadvantage when walking next to Tigh’s superior height. Wisely, the boy kept silent, merely following as Tigh’s temper flashed. He was angry at the thought of what might happen to his reckless human mate, but it was fear for her safety—and that of the babies—that truly ruled his racing heart.
When Tigh reached the gym, he found the human women arranged in an orderly row, practicing blocks, strikes and kicks in formation, being led by the blonde master-at-arms, Henny Sonata. Tigh stopped abruptly in the door, taking in the scene. It looked like every off-duty male was poised around the perimeter of the large space, watching the women with varying degrees of amazement and awe. The women, by contrast, appeared to pay them no mind as they swept through graceful choreographed movements that were startlingly similar to the drills he’d learned in his first years with the Zenai.
They followed Henny, movement for movement, though it was clear she was the most skilled of them all. Still, many of the women had high levels of skill, the ability dropping off slightly as they went down the line.
Tigh saw Ginny moving fluidly on one end of the line. She was skilled, it was plain to see, but he doubted if the women’s pretty movements could translate to effective combat with a man of his size. Tigh strode forward as the women faced away from him, his one thought to get Ginny clear of the danger of being kicked or struck by a misplaced move on the part of her fellow practitioners.
He came up behind her, grasping her around the waist without warning.
The next thing he knew, Ginny was responding as if he was an attacker, moving with quicker moves than he would have credited, slipping out from his hold and moving to incapacitate him, as well. Of course, at this point, his own training kicked in, and he avoided her blow, which could have done some serious damage, but she was overbalanced and falling in a way that might injure her.
Sweeping out and down, Tigh used all his skill to quell her retaliatory moves while bringing her gently under his control. She moved so fluidly another man would be hard pressed to keep them both upright and in one piece, but Tigh was one of the most highly-ranked students of the Zenai warrior priesthood.
“It’s me, Ginny,” he whispered as she came to rest in his arms. He could feel her muscles quivering under his hands as she realized who held her and what they’d almost done. The whole episode had taken just seconds. “Are you all right?”
She swatted his chest. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!” Ginny backed away, and he let her go, duly chastened.
“You’re right. I didn’t think before moving to protect you and, as a result, put you in even more danger.”
Ginny tilted her head, her momentary anger seemingly stymied by his heartfelt apology. She studied his face, her own eyes questioning while the women stood motionless behind them, watching with wide eyes. Tigh knew every warrior in the room was watching the byplay, as well, but all that mattered to him was Ginny. She was all that was important in his existence. Her safety and the safety of their babies was paramount—for so many reasons.
“I was in no danger.”
Tigh’s anger, fed by fear for her safety, battled within him. He strove for calm but knew his eyes flared.
“Fighting practice is best left to those who are not pregnant.”
“We weren’t fighting.” Her jaw set stubbornly, but then she seemed to think better of it and relented. “I wasn’t going to participate in kumite, just in the kata practice. I thought that was safe enough.”
“What is kahtah and koomitay?” He spoke the words phonetically, unfamiliar with the terms for which his translator had no data.
Henny strode forward, her assessing gaze traveling up and down Tigh as she asserted her authority over the exercise class. “Nice moves, Your Majesty.” She grinned lopsidedly as he gave her his attention. “Kumite is