Carbon Life

by HR Ringer

  The referee called for a corpsman while he attempted to keep the Marine from losing consciousness. A pair of techs came running in with a hover-litter, which they employed to get him out of the suite and on his way to the closest med bay.

  The referee, a hardened master sergeant himself, came over to Yuán and said, “Stand up, Lieutenant.” In an apparently effortless, single move, Xiùlán rose to her feet to look down on the ref. Taking a step back in order to look up to her, he said, “I hope you realize how seriously you injured that man, Lieutenant.”

  “Was I mistaken, Sergeant? Did I not hear him say it would take less than a minute for him to, let me see, how did he put it?… Oh yeah, he said he was going to, quote: break this chink bitch, unquote.”

  The ref stared at her as if she’d just turned green and sprouted horns. “Trash talk, Lieutenant, nothing more.

  “I could have injured him a lot worse, Sergeant,” she responded. “It took a great deal of control to keep from permanently maiming him.” Yuán lowered her voice as she looked hard at this sergeant and quietly hissed, “You’d do well to persuade him to apologize for his racist attitude, Sergeant.”

  Xiùlán’s emphasis on his rank title didn’t go unnoticed. Responding with, “Yes, Ma’am,” he turned and walked out of the room.

  Commander Nolan approached her from the spectator’s side of the area as she started to leave. “Lieutenant Yuán… a word?” Xiùlán turned and waited for Nolan to speak.

  “Lieutenant, I have to concur with your former instructors and opponents. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anyone in a sparring session taken down so rapidly.”

  “Permission to speak freely, Sir?” Yuán’s face was an impassive mask.

  “Granted.”

  “Sir, that Marine is a racist, misogynistic varren, and the ref isn’t much better. It’s more than a little disturbing for me to encounter these attitudes my first week on this ship… I hope they are the exceptions, and not the norm.”

  Nolan was a bit taken aback. “That’s a pretty severe accusation, Lieutenant. I’m sure you’ve misinterpreted what was said.”

  In response, Yuán sighed and activated her omnitool… its captured audio played back Ortega’s words as if he were standing in front of her. Staring hard at the Commander, Xiùlán said, “Did I miss something there?”

  Nolan’s dark complexion nearly hid the flush of embarrassment as he grimaced. “Lieutenant, I didn’t ask for Ortega as your opponent in order for him to subject you to insults. I honestly felt he would provide you with some tough competition on this floor. Seems to me you provided him with a lesson instead.”

  Yuán replied, “I encountered similar racism more than enough times during my special training, back when I was a serviceman… I’m sorry that sergeant had to learn the hard way that I won’t put up with it, from him, or anyone else on this ship.”

  “You won’t have to, Lieutenant. Your psych eval mentioned you hoped to command a warship someday,” he answered. “I’d say your attitude will serve you well. Go get cleaned up and changed… we’ll go see Sergeant Ortega together.”

  “Actually, I don’t want him thinking I’m running to the brass for backup, Sir. If he doesn’t have the common sense to see his attitude is shit, your presence won’t help. I can certainly deal with Mr Ortega on a personal level. If I have to pull rank, he’ll find himself using those arms to clean out the toilets in the enlisted women’s head, Sir.”

  Nolan thought about her statement for a moment before saying, “Okay, Ms Yuán. Just, don’t be too disappointed when you don’t get the cooperation you’re looking for. The Marines on this ship tend to be a bit… independent.”

  “Seems like you’ve just presented me with a challenge, Sir.”

  * * *

  * ENLISTED PERSONNEL MED BAY · ALLIANCE CRUISER SSV TOKYO *

  Master Sergeant Ortega was lying in a med bay bed with the upper third titled up to assist his breathing. The cuts in his lips had been tended to, his bloody nose had been mended, and the area around his right eye was bandaged, no doubt with a layer of medigel applied in an effort to reduce the swelling. He had been given a healthy dose of analgesics, so was half asleep when Yuán quietly walked in, spoke for a moment with the corpsman on duty, then walked up to stand beside Ortega’s bed.

  The Marine wasn’t sound asleep, so cracked his left eye open to see who was standing beside him; of all the people he might have expected to see, Staff Lieutenant Yuán was last on the list. Surprisingly, his attitude towards her wasn’t nearly as bad as she’d expected; perhaps having his ass handed to him so rapidly and with such little effort had bought Yuán some measure of respect. “Whadda ya want?”

  Xiùlán smiled as she pointed to the single silver bar on her collar. “Normally, I’d expect to hear you say ‘Ma’am’ at the end of that question, but you only have one good eye, so I’ll let you slide.”

  Ortega had watched her arm – bare from wrist to mid-bicep – as she moved to point to her collar; glancing at her other arm, he suddenly realized this woman… this lieutenant… wasn’t some lightweight pushover, at least not physically. She had some seriously developed muscle in those arms, something that had been hidden by her black silk pajamas. If the rest of this tall woman’s body was as well-muscled, he had made a serious error in judgement in thinking she would be a pushover. “Ya fucked me up pretty bad, L’tenant,” he wheezed through swollen lips. “Ya ‘ere ta gloat?”

  Yuán cocked her head slightly, saying, “No, Sergeant. Just wanted to see if you’re going to be okay, and give you an opportunity to apologize. You allowed your ignorant bias towards people of my race to override whatever good sense you might possess.”

  The visible, unbandaged portion of the sergeant’s face colored slightly as he shifted his one-eyed gaze to the foot of the med bed. After a few moments of silence, he looked back at her eyes, the sable brown appearing black in the low light of this portion of the compartment. “Ya ‘ave my… ‘pology… fer callin’ ya a chink. Never actually met a Chinese ‘afore… Ma’am. Wha’ was it ya said ter me afore ya laid me out?”

  “Nǐ de pìgu shì wǒ de?” Mandarin – Chinese language – for ‘Your ass is mine.’”

  “Guess I shoulda paid better attention ter ya, huh? Might notta got hurt so damn bad.”

  Yuán wasn’t quite ready to let him off the hook. “You apparently haven’t had to deal with too many women, Mr Ortega. I know for a fact there’s a chief warrant officer on Arcturus Station that could take you down just as fast, if not faster, and she doesn’t have my easy-going attitude… I expect she quite possibly might have killed you.”

  The sergeant, trying to think of something to say to this lieutenant, remained silent for several moments as he stared up at her before asking, “Ain’t Chinese, is she?”

  Xiùlán chuckled as she replied, “No, Sergeant… She was my student… born in London, grew up on the colony of Horizon.” With a small smile, Yuán added, “Hope you get healed up quick, Sergeant. I believe Commander Nolan will assign me to teaching a refresher course in hand-to-hand combat; you might benefit from some remedial training.”

  Turning, she started to walk away when Ortega’s raspy voice caused her to pause. “Thanks fer comin’ by, Ma’am.”

  Half turning to look back, she said in a quiet voice, “You’re welcome, Sergeant.”

  * * *

  * ALLIANCE CRUISER SSV TOKYO, AT LARGE *

  The Alliance cruiser Tokyo appeared seemingly from nowhere, as it decelerated to an apparent halt beside the Mass Relay in the Utopia System; in reality, the massive vessel was still moving at a significant fraction of light speed as the pilots rolled it into a graceful turn to bring the ship about and set her on a course for Eden Prime, where the Marine garrison would be rotating soldiers out for earned leave; their replacements would be sent down from the Tokyo’s Marine detachment in a routine deployment.

  Yuán Xiùlán had spent the several weeks prior to this transfer as a close-combat inst
ructor for those scheduled for deployment, refreshing the training the Marines had received in basic and advanced classes. Once she’d tossed a couple of the more stubborn skeptics over her head – in the same manner as she’d tossed an asari huntress out of the boundaries set by the practice mat during her own training on Luna base – the rest of the Marines conceded this woman knew exactly what she was doing.

  Any lingering doubts were laid to rest when word got out that she exercised alone each morning from 0545 until 0700; Xiùlán wore a pair of exercise shorts, coming only from hipbone to mid-thigh – putting the remaining scars from her classified adventure in the Nemean Abyss on full display, along with her impressively muscled legs – and a sleeveless, cropped compression top, allowing full view of the massive musculature of her arms and the pronounced definition of her abs, along with a partial view of the jewel-toned shades of greens and golds forming the elaborate dragon tattoo on her back. As impressive as the extraordinary development of the musculature over her body was, her intricate moves with and without her nángùn, along with the pummeling she inflicted on the heavy bag with her hands and feet every day, convinced any and all watching that this woman was an absolute artist at the physical aspects of combat.

  Commander Nolen had told Yuan privately that Master Sergeant Ortega, over the course of the several weeks prior to the Tokyo’s arrival over Eden Prime, had developed a grudging respect for her knowledge and abilities, so much so that he’d taken to defending her against the insults he’d endured for being ‘whupped by a girl’. While he continued to intensely dislike naval brass, he had become much less vocal about it.

  Deploying with the 88 other Marines being transferred onto Eden Prime, Ortega and Master Sergeant Alvarado – the referee during her take-down of Ortega – would be replacing two of the eight squad leaders rotating out for R&R. Yuán stood by in the hanger as four UT-47’s departed the hanger deck for the planet’s surface, returning in short order to disgorge the troops rotating out from the garrison; the empty shuttles were then boarded by the last replacements being sent down.

  As Ortega and Alvarado walked by Yuán to board their shuttles, each of them stuck out their hands. Smiling, she said, “Zhù nǐ hǎoyùn, Sergeant,” [祝你好運] to each of them as she grasped their forearms. The odd looks she received from them were met with a translation of “Means Good luck… I hope you both do well down there.”

  In response, Ortega actually grinned back at her. “Thank ya, Ma’am. Same fer ya.”

  Once the shuttles returned with the rest of the Marines from the surface, the Tokyo would return to the Local Cluster by way of Arcturus in order to transfer the just retrieved soldiers to Earth for shore leave.

  * * *

  * VANCOUVER, BC • SYSTEMS ALLIANCE, WESTERN NORTH AMERICA HQ *

  The Tokyo had made its trip to the Sol system, where the Marines just off deployment to the garrisons on Eden Prime had been sent planet side for their leave. While the ship was in the system, Captain David Anderson rode down with the Marines in the last departing shuttle in order to meet with Alliance Marine General RaeLee Park at the North American Headquarters in Vancouver.

  Anderson had been approached by Lieutenant Commander Randall Nolan, who had concerns about the rather sparse record of the recently transferred Staff Lieutenant; Nolan had asked Anderson to inquire about Yuán’s record, hoping he could then make a recommendation on how to best utilize her on the ship. Admiral Hackett, after viewing the woman’s record, had refused to divulge any of the highly classified information, suggesting instead that Anderson speak with Yuán’s ‘handler’ for that thirty-seven month time period, saying, “The admirals responsible for sealing her records are well above my pay-grade, David… hell, they’re at the very top of the chain; going to General Park will probably be an exercise in futility, but she may be able to shed some light on why she offered an officer’s commission to a Service Chief. This woman must really be exceptionally good at everything she does.”

  Anderson thought about Hackett’s words as he stepped out of the shuttle into a damp, late winter morning. He didn’t like secrets, especially when it concerned crew members of his own ship. ‘I really hope this general will shed some light on Yuán’s hidden past,’ he thought, ‘or this trip down here will have been a waste of time for us both.’

  Walking smartly into the lobby of the main building, he paused at the reception desk and waited for a moment; the corporal behind the big desk looked up, standing to attention immediately upon recognizing the rank of the large man standing patiently before her. “Corporal Flynn, at your service, Sir. What may I do for you?”

  Anderson smiled as he replied, “As you were, Corporal; I’m here to meet with General Park… I believe she’s expecting me.”

  Flynn consulted the terminal display on her desk for a moment; receiving an answer to her single-key request, she looked back up at Anderson. “If you’ll follow me, Sir?”

  The corporal ushered Anderson down a passageway to pause before a closed door; after rapping her knuckles lightly on the surface, she opened the door and stood aside for the captain to enter. Standing behind her desk, the general waved Anderson towards the chair beside her desk as she said, “Please hold my calls, Flynn.”

  As her young aide acknowledged Park’s request and closed the office door behind her, the general offered her hand to Anderson as she smiled a greeting. “Captain Anderson… a pleasure to meet you at last. I’ve heard more than a few tales of your exploits in the wild frontier of the Terminus.” Waving at the chair beside her desk, she said, “Have a seat. Would you care for something to drink while we chat?”

  “I wouldn’t say no to a cup of coffee, Ma’am.”

  Park chuckled as she took a few steps to a side table. “First time we’ve met, with an important topic to discuss? Sure you wouldn’t care for something a bit stronger… scotch and soda, perhaps?”

  Anderson chuckled. “That would suit me just fine, General Park.”

  After a few moments, Park brought over a pair of heavy crystal tumblers half-full of golden liquid, setting them on the desk between them. Taking a seat in her chair, she said, “We can dispense with the titles in this room, if you wish. My name is RaeLee.” Picking up her glass, she took a sip as she watched Anderson over the rim.

  Anderson smiled as he took a couple of sips from the glass Park had filled for him. “We have titles for some very good reasons, General, but I don’t suppose that’s of much concern when people are friends. Are you a friend… RaeLee?”

  Park’s smile was infectious. “I’d like to be a friend… David. Never understood the sometimes enmity between Marine and Naval personnel… We’re all in the service to do the best we can for the Alliance.” Picking up a datapad, she fixed Anderson with her eyes and stated, “Now, let’s discuss what brought you all the way here from the outer colonies.”

  * * *

  * ALLIANCE CRUISER SSV TOKYO, AT LARGE *

  The Tokyo had returned to Arcturus Stream, there to take on additional stores for its trip to the Petra Nebula; batarian pirates had been reported to be traveling between the Kite’s Nest and Hades Gamma clusters; the appearance of any ship flying batarian colors was cause for alarm in the Exodus Cluster, the nexus between the two systems.

  Captain David Anderson looked up as Yuán Xiùlán entered his office, there to stand in front of his desk at parade rest. Smiling up at her, Anderson said, “Yuán… Nice to meet you. Please, have a seat.” Returning his attention to the datapad he was holding, he continued, “I managed to find a Marine who would talk to me about your redacted service record, Lieutenant.” Anderson looked up at her as he continued, “I believe you know her… General RaeLee Park?" He let out a small chuckle as he continued, "Unfortunately, her willingness to speak to me and her ability to provide the details I was hunting for were at opposite ends of the spectrum. Other than the observable things like your martial arts skill and that rather telling scar on your leg, she was less than forthcoming about the level
of training you’ve received or specifics on any of your ground missions.”

  Taking a sip of water from the glass in front of him, he looked up at Xiùlán apologetically as he did so. “I’m sorry… allow me to just…” he set his glass down, picked up a pitcher and poured a second glass full of ice water; setting the glass in front of her as she thanked him, he continued on. “Park did mention you had some mis-adventures out in the Traverse and the Nemean Abyss, but wouldn’t provide mission details concerning those assignments, either… She said top brass ordered the program terminated and your records sealed. She did tell me you achieved O7 status during your time in the program, but that’s all I could coax out of her. It must be disappointing to have a vocational code eliminated just as you've reached the highest level attainable within the specialty."

  Xiùlán commented, “Not nearly as disappointing to me as it was to my partner, Sir.”

  After pausing to study the datapad for a few more moments, Anderson commented, “Your latest evaluation indicates you're holding tight to a goal of one day commanding an Alliance warship. Park seems to think you have both the drive and the capability to be one of our best, so… it looks like I need to have a talk with Lieutenant Commander Nolen – have him assign you to a rotation of jobs that will teach you how to be an outstanding executive officer… navigation, communications, piloting, that sort of thing. It’s all stuff you need to be capable of doing. Study hard, learn well. I can’t imagine you won’t make XO on some lucky bastard’s boat… more than likely a frigate to start.”