Love has no why, no how, no who. It just is. — Michele L. Rivera, Never the Same
• EMERGENCY EVAC, KLENSAL to the HONG KONG · DIS SYSTEM •
Marine Sergeant Ross and his squad were extremely efficient—after retrieving all the equipment taken from Yuán and Traynor by their now dead batarian captors, they had loaded the unconscious form of Samantha Traynor into a transfer pod; once sealed, it was only a matter of minutes before she was inside their shuttle. As soon as everyone else was aboard and normal atmosphere had been restored, the pilot initiated a high-speed run for a rendezvous with the Hong Kong as the squad's medic quickly opened the pod and started emergency treatment for Sam. After he secured an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth, Xiùlán assisted with the removal of Sam's hard shells and under-armor top.
Grunting when he saw the extent of the bruise on Traynor's side, he carefully inserted a drain in her lower chest cavity; this produced copious amounts of the blood that had leaked from her punctured lung. With much of the liquid expelled from below her lungs, she immediately began breathing easier. Checking her blood pressure and noting her readings were in the basement, he checked her dog tags for blood type before opening another storage case; he pulled out three units of A-Positive synth and set up the first one to begin replenishing her lost blood. After placing the other two units in a small heater to warm the contents, he set an IV drip in her other arm to replenish her fluids. Although still unconscious, Sam's color had improved noticeably by the time she was receiving the second unit of synth-blood and she appeared to be resting easier as the shuttle came to rest inside the Hong Kong's hanger bay.
Xiùlán had held Samantha's hand during the entire return flight and insisted on carrying one end of the litter taking her from the shuttle to the Med Bay once they were back on the ship. Even knowing she was going to receive the best possible emergency medical care available, Xiùlán absolutely refused to let Sam out of her sight, even assisting in transferring her to an operating table in the Med Bay—none of the staff felt it wise to argue with the grim woman with dried blood all over her face.
• SSV HONG KONG · DIS SYSTEM, HADES GAMMA — SATURDAY EVENING, 11 MARCH 2180 •
The small Med Bay on the Hong Kong felt rather full with two people in for treatment. Ship's Doctor Nathan Finn began working on Traynor's fractured ribs and injured lung the moment she was lying on the table; Xiùlán insisted any treatment of her own injuries could wait until she was certain Samantha's life was no longer in danger.
While Finn tended to Traynor's injuries and made sure she was comfortable, his assistant had helped Xiùlán out of her armor plates. Once she was standing in her under-armor skins, he looked closely at her chest and leg before asking her to strip to her panties.
Xiùlán looked down at her chest and spotted the dark stain in her shirt. Saying, "Shit! That miserable bastard was a good ten meters away!" she quickly inspected her new ceramic chest plate and found the hole, right side of center above her breast. "Damn it!" She peeled off her under-armor and bra, surprised at the amount of blood she'd lost through a gunshot wound she hadn't even noticed.
The doctor's assistant helped Xiùlán onto a treatment table and covered her with a blanket to keep her warm. "Amazing how little pain you feel when your system is full of adrenaline," he said; he checked her blood pressure twice, commenting, "Just a bit low." After cleaning the dried blood from her skin, he applied medigel to the wound, started an IV drip to begin replenishing her fluids, and gently washed her hair and face with disinfectant soap to remove all the dried blood from her scalp wound.
He finished by shaving the hair immediately around the gash in her scalp before employing a dermal regenerator to close the wound, commenting as he did so, "When this heals, the skin will begin growing hair just as if nothing had ever happened."
It was several hours before Dr Finn was done tending Samantha's injuries. As he came over to Xiùlán, she asked him, "How is she doing, Doc. She's gonna be okay, right?" Tears started trickling from the corners of Xiùlán's eyes as she looked at her still unconscious lover.
Yuán's tears surprised Dr Finn. "I take it Ms Traynor means a lot to you?"
Xiùlán had to swallow past the lump in her throat as she looked at the silent form under the blanket. "Can't live without her, Doc. She's …" Xiùlán couldn't finish as her voice broke; she brought a shaking hand up to cover her eyes.
Dr Finn placed a gentle hand on her upper arm as he quietly told her, "She should be good as new in a few days. You did a great job keeping her alive. I'm told there are fewer slavers in this region, thanks to you and your friend." He shifted his hand from her arm to her hand, gently lifted it from her face and repositioned it beside her hip. "You both did a really good job down there, Ms Yuán."
Xiùlán looked at Sam's unconscious form as she asked, "What … happened to her arm?"
"Badly bruised, is all," he responded absent-mindedly. "Bones are intact …" Dr Finn looked at the gash in Xiùlán's scalp; placing a hand behind her head, he combed through her hair with his fingers and added, "I heard what those slavers did to you, Serviceman. There's a Marine corporal down below who's right handy with a comb and scissors. Want me to ask him to take a look when you're sitting up again?"
"Thanks, Doc," Yuán said in a shaky voice. She heaved a heavy sigh and finished with, "I'll certainly give it some thought."
Dr Finn next pulled the blanket away from her neck to look at her gunshot wound. "Looks like this one bled quite a bit … not surprised you didn't feel it with all the stuff that was happening. Pain receptors get turned off when your system is full of adrenaline."
He used a hypospray to numb the area before carefully employing a pair of omni-tool directed auto-forceps to extract the minute sliver of metal from the middle of the three minor pectoral muscles, right next to a rib. "First bullet wound, Ms Yuán?"
"First one," she grunted, feeling a jab of pain from the forceps despite the numbing effects of the local anesthetic. "Hope it's my last," she hissed, "but I doubt I'll be that lucky."
After filling the wound with medigel, he bandaged it while commenting, "That'll be sore for a few days. I'll change the bandage in a day or so, take another look at it."
He then helped Yuán roll over to lay face down on the exam table so he could work on her leg. After applying a local anesthetic, Doctor Finn thoroughly cleaned the cut before using a tissue regenerator on her calf muscles. "Traynor pull the blade out and dress this for you?"
Xiùlán took a few moments to answer. After swallowing hard, she said softly, "Yes. Treated the cut on my head, too."
"You were lucky. Most batarians coat their knife blades with a toxin similar to snake poison. She did a nice job, given the circumstances," he said. "I'll be sure to tell her when she wakes up."
Doctor Finn proved to be a pleasant young man; as he continued to work on her leg, he had explained how Captain Mosley had taken on two batarian corvettes, completely destroying one and severely damaging the other. The Marines that boarded the disabled vessel were forced to kill all the surviving batarians when each and every one of them refused to surrender. Given the tight quarters on the batarian ship, the squad leader felt they were fortunate to have had no more people injured in the boarding action than they had, with only two Marines injured seriously enough to require medical attention. The Hong Kong's ordnance expert then disabled the explosive charge wired into the engine core controls, a standard batarian failsafe to prevent their captured ships from being used against them or the hegemony.
Upon searching the vessel, they found a number of interesting items in the cargo bay, not the least of which were several containers of anti-tank mines; one such container was only partially full, which meant there was still unexploded ordnance on the surface, probably near the other pathways to the main facility. There was also a lot of gear that could only be used for subduing and controlling captured people, the most damning of which were the shock collars designed to keep slaves in line. Yuán and Traynor had been lucky—the batarians inside the facility hadn't had time to call down reinforcements with more equipment.
The remainder of the freight consisted of containers full of weapons—heavy pistols, shotguns and assault rifles manufactured by Batarian State Arms; all were of inferior quality, meant for bartering with vorcha and krogan mercenaries.
Once the ship was secured, Captain Mosley placed several of the Hong Kong's crew aboard; the Hong Kong was providing escort as the skeleton crew flew the captured corvette with its jury-rigged repairs back to the relay. Once there, they'd meet a relief crew being transported in from the Exodus Cluster.
After leaving the captured corvette, the Marine squad had gone groundside to recover the exploration team; they recovered Sergeant Perkins' body from the wrecked Mako before destroying all the automated cannon turrets around the facility and eliminating the guards stationed outside the repurposed mine.
They had only just entered the facility when they encountered a bloodied Yuán scouting the upper chamber; she had been in the process of collecting all the equipment their captors had removed upon dragging Traynor and herself into the mine.
Doctor Finn finished working on her leg by complementing her, "The size and definition of your calf muscle should be a help in its healing, but … it will be sore for several days" He showed her a datapad with a still image of the back of her leg before he began his repair. "That cut was only moderately deep, but it was pretty large; fortunately it was lengthwise to the muscle fibers and entered between the lateral and median heads of the calf muscle. That said, you still need to take it easy for ten to fourteen days. That means no heavy exertion, no running, and go easy on the Tai Chi." He smiled at her look of curiosity. "I've seen your morning routine. You and Traynor are very disciplined. Just … take it easy on that leg, and it'll heal just fine."
• SUNDAY MORNING, 12 MARCH •
While attempting to find a comfortable position on the medical bed, Xiùlán glanced at Traynor's still unconscious form in the bed next to her. She was struck by how small Sam appeared under the blankets … vulnerable even, IV bag beside her on a hanger, monitor panel above her head softly beeping in time with her heart, keeping track of her blood pressure, her breathing. Yuán silently thanked her ancestors once again that Samantha had survived their ordeal.
She was still watching Sam's silent form when Captain Jaclyn Mosley entered the Med Bay to see how she and Traynor were recovering. Seeing that Xiùlán was still awake, Mosley stopped beside the bed as she said, "I just wanted to personally offer my thanks for stopping a slaver operation before it could gain a foothold in the system." Mosley went on to express real admiration that two injured people—students, no less!—had been able to escape from their cages and eliminate all the batarians inside the facility in their bid for freedom, to which Xiùlán had offered a grim smile.
"They were standing between us and the exit, Ma'am." Her expression turned sad as she continued softly, "I'm so sorry about Sergeant Perkins. Did he have family?"
"A brother, parents," she answered. "Dad's military. Brother's still in school." She looked down for a moment, then said sadly, "I have to write the letter. At least we recovered his body. Hope the surgeons at the HQ morgue can close up that knife wound, maybe camouflage it somehow." Mosley looked down again and muttered, "Fucking batarians."
Xiùlán silently agreed before adding, "He was a good Marine, Ma'am, a good person."
"Corporal Barnes mentioned finding a batarian pinned to the ground with a ceramic blade … said there was a pony tail of black hair …," she paused as she studied Xiùlán's hair, " …yours, I presume, since your long hair seems to be missing … it was coiled around the blade protruding from his chest. Some kind of warning?"
"You might say that," Yuán had responded in a tone suggesting equal parts sadness and defiance. "Always had long hair, ever since I was a child. It is …" she paused to correct herself, " …or rather, was, part of who I am. He was already dying from the gunshot wound." Xiùlán continued quietly, "I made sure he died with the knowledge he'd picked the wrong woman to mess with. Hope you left him where I pinned him."
Mosley almost smiled. "Actually, we didn't feel we had enough time to retrieve him, or any of the others you left behind. Corporal found another batarian deeper in the mine, pinned to the side of a container in a similar manner."
Mosley held up a datapad with a still image displayed on the screen. "I've heard there are some really bad-assed omni-blades in special dev, but I've never seen anything like this." She handed the datapad to Xiùlán.
Yuán raised her right forearm to display her bracelet and said quietly, "Serrice Council, Savant, model ten-plus. Asari manufactured for their commandos. That particular blade is special …" Xiùlán demonstrated by holding her arm up straight with clenched fist, " …propelled across the top of the tool, top of our wrist, into whatever our fist connects with. Micro-serrations on each edge—point towards the tip along one edge, away from the tip on the other; makes it extremely difficult to extricate from a body, especially if it's through bone like that one." She handed the datapad back. "Very effective melee weapon."
"I'm surprised they didn't take it from you when they dragged you out of the Mako."
"It's keyed to my DNA, so anyone taking it from me would lose their hand if they tried to use it." Xiùlán looked down for several moments as she thought back. "I seriously doubt they even realized what it was; it doesn't look like a standard omni-tool interface. Samantha's bracelet looks exactly like this one, has all the same features." Xiùlán looked at the jeweled bracelet. "They had us locked in cages. I had a bloody gash in my head, Traynor was coughing blood. They didn't think we were capable of going anywhere. Hell, for all the batarians knew, we were wearing bonding bracelets."
"Must have been pretty bad down there," Mosley replied. Nodding towards the sleeping form under the blankets, she asked, "How's Traynor doing now?"
Xiùlán smiled grimly as her eyes misted. "She lost a hellova lot of blood. Lung nearly collapsed, but she's stable now … should be up and around by the time we hit the relay."
"I understand you refused treatment until Doc Finn treated her injuries," Mosley said,
Xiùlán coughed to clear her throat before continuing. "I wasn't having any trouble breathing, and I was absolutely terrified I was going to lose her in that stinkin' mine." She brought a shaking hand up to her forehead, squeezed both temples between thumb and forefinger. "She scared the living hell out of me, Cap'n."
Tears continued to leak from her eyes, despite her best efforts to rein them in. "Our mission was a failure, Ma'am … we weren't supposed to be discovered, yet we were seen on Jartar and captured on Klensal. We lost a team member, damn near lost our own lives. I don't think we'll receive a passing grade from our instructors, do you?"
"On the contrary, Yuán. Despite being discovered, despite your capture, I'd say your mission was a success. You uncovered and retrieved artifacts from Jartar, pieces that may well be a billion or more years old! Your unfortunate capture by batarians on Klensal resulted in the deaths of every single slaver involved, the destruction of one of their vessels, the capture of another. The only negative for us is the murder of Sergeant Perkins, something none of us could have foreseen."
"His death is something I own now, Captain," Yuán solemnly intoned. "I wasn't able to keep him safe … that in itself is a mission failure to me."
Captain Mosley placed her hand gently on top of Xiùlán's and lifted it away from her face so she could look into her eyes. "You are in no way responsible for Perkins' murder, Yuán. He was under my command, my responsibility. Don't think for even a second you have to bear that burden … it's not something you could have prevented. You and Traynor made those batarians pay for his murder. I won't allow you to leave my ship thinking you owe a debt that is not yours to accept, are we clear?"
Xiùlán solemnly looked at the captain for several seconds before nodding her head.
"Good!" Captain Mosley placed Yuán's hand alongside her hip, holding onto it as she finished with, "You get some rest, Serviceman. You …," she looked over at the sleeping figure of Samantha Traynor, " … both of you … did well today. I'll stop back by tomorrow so I can talk to Traynor; thank her as well for all she did."
Xiùlán laid her head back and closed her eyes as she attempted to calm her raging emotions. She thought back to a conversation she'd had with Sam the morning after they arrived on Mars. … Sam was watching me as I ate breakfast. She voiced her fear of losing me 'to something neither of us could control'—I told her I could not bear the thought of losing her. Damn if I didn't nearly have to discover how to live without her.'
Xiùlán took a deep breath and let it out slowly, once again offering silent thanks that Sam's life had been spared. Still, her mind refused to rest, thinking about Sam's brush with death … right after Heather's murder by Cerberus, Xiùlán remembered, Sam told me she was worried I would end up cold on some exam table. Damned if it wasn't almost Sam in my place!
The Hong Kong was currently en route to the Antaeus System. Xiùlán hoped Sam would be well on the way to a complete recovery by the time they arrived back in their own cluster. I am so looking forward to sleeping in my own bed cuddled up next to Sammy … was her last thought as she finally drifted off to sleep.
Xiùlán didn't know how long she had slept … she just knew it was long enough for her to be stiff all over; she felt as if every muscle in her body had been dragged through a rolling mill. She knew where she was, as the bed had not miraculously grown more comfortable while she slept. She thought back to awakening in a slaver's cage, hardly able to open her eyes past her blood matted lashes. She cautiously eased her eyelids open without moving her head, which also hurt.
As her eyes focused and adjusted to the ambient light, a face—the face—of the woman she had grown to love swam into focus. Sam's eyes were open, studying her, waiting for her to wake up. "Good morning, Luv," came the whispered greeting.
Xiùlán tried to rise, but could only manage to bring her head up slightly. "Sammy?" Her mouth was dry, voice gravelly. "My god, Sammy? Oh, my darling Sà mǐ … I'm so happy to see you awake again! I was so terrified you were going … to … leave me."
Traynor grinned as she replied in a quiet voice, "Not ready to check out yet, darling. I'd say we've endured a baptism of fire, wouldn't you?"
Xiùlán returned Sam's grin and carefully reached her hand out. Sam brought a hand out as well; their beds were just close enough for them to intertwine their fingers. Yuán was so relieved to hear Sam's voice and touch her hand, she started to weep. "I thought I'd lost you, Sà mǐ … down there, in that miserable stinkin' mine." Voice hitching, she continued, "I couldn't find your pulse, and your skin was so cold. I was so scared …"
Doctor Finn had heard Xiùlán crying; coming up to their beds, he asked, "Should I push you two together?"
Traynor nodded, so the doctor repositioned her bed against Xiùlán's. He gently placed his hand on Xiùlán's forehead while wiping her tears away with the other, saying, "Serviceman Traynor is doing quite well, Ms Yuán. We're monitoring her condition closely, but I really don't expect any complications. She's in excellent health, as are you." He paused to look at her head wound, then continued, "I didn't see a need to insert a catheter in either of you, so feel free to use the facilities when you're ready." He looked pointedly at their IV's as he warned, "Just be careful of your tubes, okay? They hurt like crazy when you simply yank 'em out of your arms."
After leaving them alone, Xiùlán had her emotions back in control enough to smile at the lovely face beside her. "How long were you watching me, Sà mǐ?"
"Long enough. I hardly ever see you relaxed, Xiùlán. Your face is absolutely beautiful when you're asleep …" she paused as she rolled her eyes, " … well, it's beautiful when you're awake as well, but … when you sleep, you're totally at peace … there's a serenity there you don't allow anyone to see when you're awake. It's something I've only ever seen when you're meditating."
Xiùlán smiled at Traynor, then grimaced as she tried to get her upper body a bit more comfortable on the bed. As she moved, her exam gown slipped off her shoulder and revealed the bandage on her bullet wound, causing instant concern in Sam's eyes.
"What the 'ell is that then?"
Xiùlán looked down at her chest as she attempted to straighten the gown. "The first guy you shot? Before you shot him, his bullet went right through my armor plate … I was falling backwards as you killed 'im … even heard your bullet go over my head." Xiùlán nodded at her lover. "You were correct … bullet fired from close range will go right through the armor if the kinetic shield is down. Sonovabitch was a good ten meters away from me. Doc managed to dig it out without too much effort, so it wasn't terribly deep. Blood soaked my under-armor shirt, and I never felt a thing."
Sam looked thoughtful. "We need to figure out a way to have an auxiliary shield generator installed within our backplates—something that cannot be easily removed."
Xiùlán grinned ruefully. "Plus I need to get the chest plate repaired by the base armorer." She started to seriously move around on the bed. "Need to pee." By the time she had successfully extricated herself from the bed, she had shredded her gown and any hope of maintaining her modesty. … to hell with it!' she thought as she tossed the ineffective garment across the room. Damned thing is too small for me anyway!
Grabbing the stand holding the IV solution, she hobbled her way, nudity be damned, to the small restroom. Samantha covered her mouth to keep from laughing, but the sight of her lover limping in an attempt to stalk angrily across the Med Bay in her birthday suit had Sam doubled up as she gasped out, "Dammit, Xiùlán! Don't make me laugh! Hurts!"
Doctor Finn noticed the disgruntled woman as she made it into the restroom and smiled. Her antics had brought joy to Samantha, which he felt was a good thing. Still, it wouldn't do for his patients to be seen running around the Med Bay in the buff, so he quickly dug up a long 'over-the-head' gown for Ms Yuán and held it out to her as she emerged from the restroom; Yuán stopped as an arm dropped in front of her. This gown was a lot more substantial and actually had a back. Hook-n-loop along the open side would make it easier to get on and off. After throwing on this new, mid-thigh length offering, she thanked Dr Finn as she fastened front to back and limped back to her mangled bed.
• ANTAEUS SYSTEM, HADES GAMMA · SATURDAY MORNING, 18 MARCH 2180 •
The Hong Kong dropped out of FTL at the edge of the Antaeus System, the captured batarian corvette still being flown alongside. They had another nine hours travel time to reach the system's Mass Relay, where they were scheduled to meet a full relief crew that would take over repairs and operation of the captured ship.
Traynor and Xiùlán ate breakfast together in the crew mess area, happy to be back in their SDU's after having to spend nearly a week in the Med Bay—Traynor recovering from fractured ribs that had caused injury to her left lung; Xiùlán with a serious scalp laceration, a gunshot wound in her chest and a knife wound in her calf muscle.
As a result of one of their batarian captors cutting off her luxuriously long hair, Xiùlán had allowed Corporal Qian Long Xi—recommended by Dr Finn as handy with a comb and scissors—to trim her hair in back. Her batarian captor had simply sliced her hair off with a knife; as it had been gathered and tied into a pony tail, the raw cut had left many different lengths at the back of her head.
Corporal Qian turned out to be a miracle worker with a woman's hair—he had trimmed Xiùlán's very thick hair all over, layering it into what he called a short-messy hairstyle. It was going to take Xiùlán time to get used to her new look; she now had bangs, with a feathery look on the back and sides—the hair on the sides of her head framed her oval face, giving her, as Qian had told her, 'an overall softer, more feminine appearance'.
She had laughed when Qian had told her the advantage to this particular style was she could jump out of bed, shake her head, use her fingers as combs and her hair would fall right into place. And until her scalp injury was completely healed and hair from the regenerated skin was once again growing, this haircut helped hide that injury from view.
She had tried the technique this morning and was pleasantly surprised. She only had to use her fingertips to scrunch it around a bit and it looked just as it had the evening before. Amazingly, Traynor had loved her new look, commenting that she couldn't wait to take Xiùlán for a test-ride in their quarters on Mars; Traynor also thought the 'overall softer appearance' comment was Qian trying to flatter her. To Sam's way of thinking, Xiùlán's new haircut seriously screamed bad-girl.
"Aw-w-w, Sam. You're jealous, just because a man from my home country thinks I'm an attractive woman. That's so sweet," Xiùlán had chided. "I may just keep it this way for a while. It's certainly a lot easier to take care of."
Traynor wasn't so sure that was a good idea either, but decided saying nothing against her lover's idea would produce the least amount of friction between them.
Captain Mosley had stopped by while the pair were finishing their morning tea, a treat offered by Corporal Qian. After getting a mug of fresh coffee, she sat down across from Yuán and said, "Nice haircut. Too bad it's not regulation."
Mosley had sat next to Traynor, so was unable to see the smirk on her face; Xiùlán frowned at Sam before looking at Mosley and replying with a smile, "For the missions we're going to be assigned, the less I look like I'm employed by the Alliance, the better, Ma'am." She paused to take a sip of tea, then continued, "Traynor here thinks I look like a bad girl—like I run with a gang. You want me to recomb it, Ma'am? Corporal Qian left enough for me to do so."
"Not necessary as far as I'm concerned, Yuán, but thanks for asking. Nice to know you still respect Alliance dress and appearance standards, …" here the captain smiled broadly as she finished with, "even if you do look like a damned anarchist."
"Thank you, Ma'am!" Xiùlán smiled broadly. "I do believe that's the look I'm going for."
Mosley looked from Yuán to Traynor and back. "So, both of you healing up okay?"
Traynor answered for both of them. "We are. Dr Finn does excellent work."
Yuán added, "Don't forget the medic on board the shuttle, Sammy. I don't think you would have lasted much longer without intervention by someone that knew what to do!"
"Good to hear," Mosley said. "And just so you know, we recovered your weapons from inside the Mako … tagged 'em and placed them in the armory. Those hand cannons you brought along? I'd really hate to be facing the business end of one of those things."
Xiùlán grinned. "That's very good news, Captain. I don't think I want the cost of one of those coming out of my pay. They're designed for use by Council Spectres … at my pay grade, probably take a decade or more to save enough credits to actually buy one!"
Traynor added, "And my sniper rifle has a lot of custom modifications. I'd really hate to start over with a new one. Thank you, Captain."
"We recovered the M-35 as well," Mosley continued. "A few minor hull and control systems repairs and it'll be ready to go again. Damn things are really tough." Her expression quickly turned solemn as she thought about what she'd just said.
Xiùlán caught the change in her mood and immediately knew why. "There's something you're not sharing with us, Captain. I can see it in your eyes."
Samantha split her attention between the captain and her lover. "Why, what's wrong, Captain? What are you thinking?" Traynor felt this must be about Sergeant Perkins; she'd not been told any more than that Perkins' killer had cut his throat. "What aren't you telling us, Captain?"
Mosley replied, "I don't think you really need to know just how depraved those bastards were, Ms Traynor."
Sam looked imploringly at Captain Mosley. "What do you know, Ma'am? Please, tell us."
Mosley returned Sam's gaze with an unhappy look of her own, then suddenly stood and said, "Wait here, Servicemen," as she left for the elevator. After several minutes, during which an unusually solemn Xiùlán refilled her cup with tea, Mosley returned and placed a datapad on the table as she retook her seat; with her other hand she placed a clear vinyl bag, sealed at the top edge with black-striped red tape. Inside there appeared to be a pair of synthetic tubes—approximately 15 Cm long by 5 Cm in diameter—with a piece of stainless wire wrapped around each of them; there was dried blood all over both tubes, along with bits of … something … red … randomly stuck to the wire.
The captain indicated the bag and the datapad as she said "You should know what humanity is up against out here, Traynor. We found this inside the Mako near the Sergeant's body. We expect the batarian that used this thought he was heaping the ultimate insult on Tobias personally and Alliance Marines in general. The autopsy findings are summarized on the datapad. There are no words," here Mosley looked at Xiùlán, "in any language, that are adequate to describe this level of …" Mosley paused to take a deep breath and let it out before continuing, " … this level of total barbaric disregard for the dignity a person, any person, but especially a soldier, is entitled to."
She nodded grimly at the … thing … in the clear vinyl bag and added as she returned her gaze to Xiùlán, "This is just one reason I will not let you leave my ship thinking you are in any way … you understand me, Yuán? … any way! … at fault for what happened to Tobias. I assigned him to take you ground side in the M-35. It was his job to keep both of you safe and get you back on this ship. His death is not your fault, nor, …" Mosley looked at Traynor, "is it yours, Ms Traynor. Sometimes, bad things happen to good people, things that we cannot predict, or prevent."
After reading through the brief description of Perkins' injuries, Samantha could only sit in stunned silence. The animation on the datapad illustrating the use of the garrote, lying on the table in its vinyl container, made her sick to her stomach. She knew the batarian race was savage, cruel to the point of depravity, but she had never heard of anything like this! Their achievements in space flight where totally overshadowed by their … desire, their sick need, to spread their violent ways to other systems.
Traynor no longer harbored any doubts about the correctness of the Alliance's military actions on Torfan, on Elysium, or any of the other places batarians had attempted to replace civil society with their own sick vision of brutality and violence. "I don't believe, …" she whispered as tears slowly trickled down her cheeks, "the batarian race should be allowed to exist beyond their home system."
Xiùlán nodded in agreement as she added, "That would probably be a good thing, Sammy. But think about this—all the batarians we have seen, or heard of, or read about were males. What about the average citizens, the population on Khar'shan?"
"Forbidden to leave batarian space by their government," Mosley responded, "which is why you're unlikely to ever encounter any batarian females outside of the Kite's Nest."
Traynor, needing something to settle her stomach, paused long enough to fix herself another cup of tea. Returning to sit with Captain Mosley and Xiùlán, she listened quietly as her lover continued, "The turians have very few females out here—you and I have encountered only one, Sammy—F'lar'Jid, and she was more soldier than not. I expect there are more like her on the Citadel."
Mosley added to Yuán's thoughts on turians with, "Omega. There are more than a few turian females on Omega; I believe the majority of them are employed as prostitutes, although there are a fair number of mercs as well."
Yuán's smile was grim. "Not the best way to have a presence away from home."
Traynor asked, "What about salarians? …or krogan?
Mosley answered, "Not sure about salarians. As for the krogan, the Genophage makes every fertile female precious beyond belief—males won't risk allowing them to leave the home world. Asari are mono-gendered, so really cannot be counted in this comparison."
Xiùlán took another sip of her tea before observing, "Of all the races out here, Sammy, ours is the only one that has a virtually equal ratio of males and females. Does that make us any better? I don't know, but maybe it does make us less inclined to instigate violence as a means to an end."
Mosley picked up the datapad and evidence bag and rose to leave. Saying, "As you were, Servicemen," when Xiùlán and Samantha made to stand up, she continued, "I'm going to return this miserable thing to the evidence locker and get back to work. It was nice talking to you … both of you. I'm glad you're both healing up okay."
Finishing her coffee, she picked up the datapad, nodded to each of them and left.
A/N: I envision Traynor and Yuán's omnitool bracelets to be somewhat similar to a 'Witchblade' in appearance when not activated. They are also not usable by anyone else. The Witchblade in that mythology is unusable by men—in the case of Yuán's and Traynor's omnitools, anyone placing a stolen tool from one of our ladies on their wrist and attempting to use it, male or female, would quickly lose their hand through amputation—on activation, the bracelet would emit a concentric energy pulse that would rapidly, and without benefit of anesthesia, cut through flesh and bone and cauterize the raw ends as it did so, thus freeing itself from its thief.
A huge 'thank-you!' to my Beta reader, Desert Sunrise. I'm sure there are those that will read this and think I'm simply offering hollow praise, particularly since DS and I have never had a face-to-face meeting - nothing could be further from the truth. DS always has a great deal of insight into the technical aspects of my stories; despite having a life to live—and being incredibly busy these days—DS always seems to find time to read just one more page for me. Thank you! I'm keeping your beer cold! —O.G.