by HR Ringer
Xiùlán thought it over for a moment. "Why not? I can use the help. Xīnzhèng, Sammy. See you tomorrow."
Chapter 3: Declaration of Love
I want morning and noon and nightfall with you. I want your tears, your smiles, your kisses... the smell of your hair, the taste of your skin, the touch of your breath on my face. I want to see you in the final hour of my life... to lie in your arms as I take my last breath. - Lisa Kleypas, Again the Magic
* * *
*** 2179/01/18 and onward ***
Yuán Xiùlán hadn't had a chance to 'enjoy' Traynor's company in the week since sharing after-dinner beers in her quarters. She had started using their Monday afternoon free time instructing Sam in the basics of Jing Quan Dao, [警拳道] or Way of the Alert Fist, a combination of different Chinese martial art styles designed for practical applications, founded in the mid-1990's by Tao Zhong Xian of Shandong Province. Xiùlán had been a bit surprised at how rapidly Traynor was learning the basics of this ancient art form, until Sam told her of the comments made by several of her fitness training instructors during basic training back on Earth and Titan (you have a real talent for close in hand-to-hand combat… you just need a knowledgeable instructor willing to take the time needed to mold you into a human weapon).
For her part, Sam had been spending ninety minutes after dinner each evening tutoring Xiùlán in the technical aspects of their course work, particularly regarding using their new omni-tools for undetectably hacking electronics, checking for hidden recording devices and using the mini-tools, such as the micro-plasma cutters.
The pace of the class work had grown relentlessly since arrival, and they generally spent their evenings together, studying until just before lights out so they could keep up with the 'on-your-own-time' work required to maintain their grade standing. Xiùlán appeared to have a real aptitude for the minutiae of hacking comm systems; aided by the excellent Serrice omni-tool, she was gaining ground on hacking server nodes without leaving a trace of her presence, and had even learned how to shift the back trace to appear as if someone else had been infiltrating the system.
They still spent a bit of time talking about how they were going to get Joesiar tossed out of the program and out of the Alliance; fortunately, he wasn't in any of their classes, and the pace of the program had apparently caught up to him as well, since they seldom saw or heard him in the common areas. They all agreed Joesiar needed a civilian job… mopping floors perhaps, or washing windows or cleaning bathrooms, sweeping, emptying garbage… all on an elcor freighter. Samantha had told Xiùlán that taking Heather with her to file a harassment complaint at the AG's office had gone quite well; 'Glasses', as they now referred to the clerk there, had not wanted to record the complaints of either of them until Traynor told him a certain Chinese woman would be following up on his actions. Sam said she thought he was going to wet himself. Xiùlán had chuckled at this… she could just picture his discomfiture at having been reminded of her visit two days prior. Yuán would need to make sure their complaints were actually being filed with Alliance brass.
* * *
*** 2179/02/15 ***
In the month since Xiùlán had started teaching Samantha Traynor the intricacies of Jing Quan Dao, Sam had developed an intense dislike for Monday afternoons. Xiùlán had chosen Mondays as the best day of the week to review what she'd been taught so far, and introduce Sam to new things…a new attack, a new avoidance technique, a new exercise for her 'aching arms', her 'battered hands', her 'sore almost beyond all belief' thighs and calves. Sam had accused her… no!… had sworn!… vehemently, that Xiùlán was being a harsh taskmaster, to which Xiùlán always replied she was doing only what needed to be done to ensure Traynor would never have her ass handed to her by some miserable batarian or militaristic turian or a creepy little stunted misogynistic human. Xiùlán insisted she should be able to mop the floor with anyone; she held Joesiar up as a prime example.
The only consolation for Sam was the nearly full-body massage Xiùlán was giving her at this moment. "Ahh-ooohchhhh! Xiùlán, lighten up, you're mmmpppffffhh… killin' me!" Sam squealed as Xiùlán applied some additional pressure to the thigh muscles just below her butt. 'How can this woman's hands be this fuckin' strong?' she thought as she cried out, "Shit! Don't!… eeeaaahhhh! Xiùlán, for pity sakes, have a bit of… 'fuckin' 'ell! That really hurts!'… mercy, pleeeease!"
"You're being a big baby, Sam. I'm not using any pressure at all…" Xiùlán chided as she used both hands to grab Sam's calf muscles and asked innocently, "…does this hurt?"
"Damn! Hell ye… aaahhh… ssss that really hurts! Sonovabitch, Xiùlán! You were taught these torture techniques in some… eeeaaahhhh!… horribly cold, dark-as-a-tomb prison, weren't chu-ooohhh-ouch! Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! Let go, damn it!"
"Apologize!" Xiùlán said with a wicked grin. "I didn't learn to do this in a prison! Apologize!"
"For what!? Stating the obvious? I mean, Shanghai, right? Ahhhhhhhhh! Shiiiiiit! Xiùlán!"
Xiùlán loosened one hand, only to grab Sam's other leg in the middle of her calf. She applied alternating pressure to Sam's legs, squeezing just enough to momentarily hurt.
Sam capitulated. "I apologizzzzzzzeeeeee! I'm sorry! Damn, am I ever sorry."
Xiùlán released Sam's legs, waited for her to roll over onto her back, then leaned over, kissed her on the cheek and said, "I learned it in a dungeon, silly girl. Now don't tell me you didn't enjoy that massage."
"I can think of a couple of other places you can massage, Xiùlán," Traynor replied with an equally devilish grin. Reaching up with both hands, she grabbed her trainer's boobs and said, "I'll even return the favor," as she gently kneaded them through her sports bra. "Wouldn't Joesier be jealous of me right now?"
Xiùlán looked at Sam's nearly nude body for several moments, enjoying the feelings evoked by Sammy's talented hands on her breasts; she reached down with her own hands, gently covering Sam's breasts before sliding her hands down along her ribcage, down to the swell of her hips. Sam whimpered a bit from the dual pleasure of having Xiùlán's breasts in her hands and having Xiùlán's loving hands tenderly caressing her. Xiùlán leaned in to kiss Sam, teasing her lips with the tip of her tongue until gaining access to her mouth; Sam returned the kiss, gently at first, then with a bit more passion, until Xiùlán pulled away and stood up.
"Okay, rookie. Time to hit the showers." Holding up a finger to quell the incipient protest, she waited for Sam to sit up before continuing. "I've made up my mind about you, Sammy. I feel… I need you. Not only…" she indicated her own body, "…physically, although I think that would be a real slice of heaven. Wǒ ài nǐ sà màn shā·tè léi nà… [我愛你薩曼莎·特雷納 - I love you Samantha Traynor…] …can't say it any plainer than that. Wǒ yào yǒngyuǎn hé nǐ zài yīqǐ. Wúlùn wǒmen zǒu dào nǎlǐ, zài liánméng, wǒ xiǎng hé nǐ yīqǐ qù." [我要永遠和你在一起。無論我們走到哪裡，在聯盟，我想和你一起去。-I want to be with you forever. Wherever we go in the (Alliance) league, I want to go with you.]
Samantha's look of puzzlement was priceless. "I don't have any idea what you said, although I believe I heard the word 'love' in your firs… wait, did you just say 'Wǒ ài nǐ', Xiùlán? Did I hear you tell me you… love me? You wouldn't rip my heart out by teasing me, would you?"
"Of all the words in Mandarin you do not understand, you understood those three?" Xiùlán smiled at her with that special smile reserved only for Sam… a smile of true joy and delight for a woman that had impressed ever since they'd crashed into each other on arrival day. "Incredible! Do you understand your name in Mandarin, Sà màn shā?"
Sammy grinned at her as she jumped up and flung her arms around her friend. Kissing her softly on the mouth, she whispered, "Xiùlán, I've wanted you since the moment we collided on arrival day. Don't ask me why… I have no words to express everything I'm feeling for you." Sam softly, lingeringly kissed her again, not to arouse but to affirm. "I need you, Xiùlán. I've never
had a close friend… ever! And now? Wǒ ài nǐ, Xiùlán! Wǒ ài nǐ, yǒngyuǎn!"[我愛你，永遠 - I love you, forever!]
It was Xiùlán's turn to be surprised. She hugged Sam to her, as if afraid of losing her forever if she didn't hold on. "Samantha, only now do I realize how incredibly lonely I've been since I left my parents home in Shanghai. I joined the Alliance for a career… I intend to be captain of a warship within ten years. I took the courses here to round out my education. I wasn't looking for love, never expected to find a companion, certainly not a woman. Does loving you mean I too am a lesbian? I always felt I would find a man someday, get married, have some children, settle down… until I crashed into you." She kissed Sam, as if experimenting for the first time with the sensations of kissing another woman. "I kissed a few boys when I was in secondary school," she whispered. "Some young men on dates before the course work got so crazy and time consuming." Xiùlán kissed her again, as if sampling a fine wine. "Your kisses are different, Sēn měi. [森美 - Sammy] Why is that?"
Samantha gently took Xiùlán's face in both hands and held her as she firmly placed lips against lips, kissing her not as a casual encounter, not as a one-night only dinner date, but as a lover. Pulling back, she said in a husky whisper, "Difference is, Yuán Xiùlán, none of those guys were in love with you. Their loss, really. I am in love with you, xiànzài zhídào yǒngyuǎn." [現在直到永遠。- Now and forever.]
Xiùlán grinned. "So, I suppose we should celebrate! Showers, fresh clothes, dinner, then coursework until lights out. You have to tutor me some more in using this brand new omni-tool for something besides playing games. Sound like fun?"
Samantha thought it over. Spend the rest of the day with the person that had just declared her love for her, or spend the evening alone. Not much of a choice at all! Grabbing her bathrobe and shower supplies, she smiled, motioned Xiùlán to the door and said, "After you, luv."
Chapter 4: Instructing the Instructors
*** 2179/02/22 ***
A week went by with Xiùlán and Samantha spending as much free time as possible tutoring each other in the subjects each knew best. Traynor instructed Xiùlán in simple programming skills, electronic devices and how and when to modify them, and comm systems; additionally, there was specialized instruction in using her new omni-tool. Along with her daily instruction in Jing Quan Dao, Sam was being instructed in anatomy… human, batarian, turian, krogan, asari and salarian, all with the intent of learning how to disable, maim, and/or kill each race in the most efficient manner possible. Xiùlán was even teaching Sam all the different ways she could apply her newly learned hand-to-hand skills alongside her new omni-tool's melee weapons. Sam had accused Xiùlán of being a harsh taskmaster when it came to teaching her unarmed fighting skills… she had been unaccustomed to the physical pounding Xiùlán was inflicting on her body, and she had more than one bloody nose to show for her exercises, had to deal with arm and leg muscles that fairly screamed from the abuse they were being put through, and she was virtually asleep before her head hit the pillow at lights out. Xiùlán kept applying the pressure, telling her she should have started these exercises at the age of five, just as she herself had done in her mother's dojo in Shanghai.
Xiùlán awakened this morning to the knowledge she was going to spend most of this week concentrating on physical training, the majority of which would involve hand-to-hand combat. Her first class today would be a demonstration of her abilities against an opponent selected at random from a pool of instructors working for the Alliance.
She straightened up her bunk, shed her sleepshirt and got dressed before eating a breakfast bar and drinking half a liter of high-protein juice. She didn't want much in her stomach for this class, preferring to consume more calories at lunch.
She had told Samantha about this class, hoping she could watch; after unsuccessfully attempting to get her own morning class shifted to another day, she told Xiùlán to take vids. Xiùlán grabbed her nángùn and shoulder pack and left for the training room.
* * *
The young Chinese woman entered the training room silently, quietly padding to the center of the bamboo mat covering the wooden floor. She was dressed in traditional sparring clothes - loose fitting ankle-length pants tied at the waist with a length of silk and a deep blue, high-collared jacket with long sleeves, fastened down the front with matching cloth ties. Her long raven hair was combed back from her face and cinched at the nape of her neck with an ebony ring, carved in the form of a dragon eating its own tail; her hair was inside her jacket for protection against being pulled. She wore neither socks nor shoes, preferring to have her bare feet in contact with the floor. She gripped her polished, two-meter long white wax wood staff, a 'nángùn'… literally, a 'southern staff', with both hands, holding it crossways in front of her as she sank to her knees. She rested her butt on the heels of her feet, her toes bent upwards so the tips remained on the floor.
Closing her eyes, she meditated on her soon to be opponent, a turian hand-to-hand combat specialist named F'lar'Jid. Xiùlán had studied this turian, had watched vids of her in action against various other opponents, mostly others of her species, but some humans as well. The humans, particularly the males, always appeared to underestimate her cunning… her deviousness. Perhaps they simply felt intimidated by having to fight a female, of any species. Xiùlán had memorized how F'lar'Jid moved, how she reacted to various counter moves.
There was a pattern to the turian's reactions suggesting weakness, something she was hiding. Analyzing the vids frame-by-frame, Xiùlán believed F'lar'Jid was favoring her left shoulder, an old injury that had not healed well. She was compensating, protecting her shoulder at the expense of her right side and torso. Xiùlán believed this would work in her favor.
Xiùlán opened her eyes at the sound of the door opening on the far side of the room… her opponent entered the training room and walked towards her as a turian trainer and a human referee entered from the right. Xiùlán stood in one fluid motion and bowed from the waist as F'lar'Jid stopped in front of her. The turian's face was not as sharply defined as a male's; the mandibles not as prominent, there was no horn crest and her features appeared to be softer overall, with facial tattoos in shades of orange. F'lar'Jid was wearing a mixture of exercise clothing mixed with a few light armor pieces, something that would make Xiùlán's task a bit more difficult. She did not appear to have any weapons, but Xiùlán felt certain the turian had a dagger secreted within her clothing.
The referee held his hand out to Xiùlán, indicating the nángùn. "No weapons for this round, Serviceman." She handed the staff to him and watched silently as he carefully placed it behind her to the right, on a pair of hooks in the wall a meter past the edge of the bamboo mat. As it was outside the active exercise surface, she wouldn't be able to retrieve it during the match without forfeiting. She set her jaw as she turned back to look at F'lar'Jid. Xiùlán's 186 Cm. height gave her an advantage over most of the women in the program; she employed her stature to full benefit here, looking straight at the turian.
F'lar'Jid stared steadily back, having pointedly ignored Xiùlán's bow of greeting. "Are you as soft, as weak, as every human female I've encountered in the past?"
There was something 'off' in her sub-harmonics. If she were human, Xiùlán would have thought she had taken too many shots to the throat, but turians did not have a larynx; although impact damage to the soft tissue underlying her throat, and perhaps even to her nose plates, could account for her vocal patterns. "Zhè shì děngdài nǐ qù fājué, biǎo zi!" [這是等待你去發掘，婊子！- It is waiting for you to discover, bitch! ]
"What language is that, human? My translator cannot decipher those words, but the tone sounds quite disrespectful."
"Méiyǒu gèng duō de bù zūnzhòng bǐ nǐ de jiǎshè." [沒有更多的不尊重比你的假設。- No more disrespect(ful) than your assumptions.]
The referee stepped between the pair and looked at each of them in turn as he said, "
F'lar'Jid, this is a training exercise only… no lethal force, understand? Serviceman, I realize this is probably your first encounter with a turian. You would do well to remember you can be inadvertently slashed by her talons. If I signal at any time during the next five minutes, both of you are expected to move to the opposite corners. Now, please move to your respective edges and wait for my signal.
Xiùlán backed away, her eyes never leaving the turian's face. F'lar'Jid mirrored her action, carefully backing away from the center of the mat until standing at the far edge.
The referee signaled the start of the match; F'lar'Jid crouched slightly and moved towards Xiùlán, circling towards the right. Xiùlán raised her hands, right arm held tight to her side, elbow bent, fingers curled into a fist; left arm extended straight out from her shoulder, palm of her hand facing her opponent, fingers together, slightly curved back as she moved around the turian. F'lar'Jid rushed in and viciously swung her right arm down, intending to hit and fracture Xiùlán's left collar bone. Xiùlán leaned back to dodge the blow, putting the turian out of balance as she missed.
Xiùlán threw her right, rotating her hand palm up as she struck F'lar'Jid in the throat with folded knuckles and fingertips, catching the turian by surprise; she swiftly followed up, using the heel of her left hand to strike the turian's nose plates, snapping her head back. She didn't pull this punch as she might have on a lesser opponent; that this turian meant to injure her had been demonstrated by her first move. Having staggered the over-confident turian, Xiùlán pressed her advantage by pirouetting around on the toes of her left foot and using her free leg to kick F'lar'Jid in the right side under her arm… the result of this blow on the nerve stem could be likened to a human hitting their so called 'funny bone' on a solid object; F'lar'Jid's arm went numb all the way to her talons. As her hand dropped below her chest, Xiùlán struck again by folding down at the waist and side-kicking the turian's head at the mandible joint; this fractured the mandible with a audible 'crack', allowing the forward end to droop in a sickening fashion. Bleeding from her nose, F'lar'Jid dropped to one knee as the referee signaled a pause in the exercise. Xiùlán backed to the corner edge of the mat as the turian trainer and human referee checked F'lar'Jid's injuries.