Still, she kept her response from being detected outwardly. Lao Ma was a woman of great vision, and she knew that if she was to complete the task which her worthy ancestor had failed, she must step as carefully as one would upon entering an adder’s den.

After Kael was sufficiently dry, Lao Ma led her over to a simple chair on one side of the bathing chamber. “Please, sit and I will attend to your wound.”

Kael did as she was bade, laying her injured leg on a footstool Lao Ma provided. The petite Asian’s hands were gentle, her touch soothing. Before the American knew it, her wound was cleansed and bandaged and she was back on her feet, accepting a simple, unadorned blue silk robe which Lao Ma slipped over her shoulders, tying the sash off and smiling at the taller woman.

“If it pleases you, I will show you to your room. The bed is prepared and you may sleep as long as you wish.”

Still in an almost trance-like state, Kael merely nodded and once again followed Lao Ma through the cavernous building until they reached a small, sparsely furnished room. A narrow pallet, covered in silk sheets, took up most of the floor space. Untying the robe, Kael allowed it to fall to the floor before slipping between the sheets of the bed awaiting her.

She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Lao Ma stared down at the sleeping American for a long moment. A smile crossed her face briefly, then was gone. Desires move the mind to activity. Stillness is the Way of all things. Sleep well in your stillness, Kael Androstos.

Then, like a shadow among shadows, she was gone.

To Be Continued…

DESERT STORM

Part 7

by: SwordnQuill

SwordnQuil@aol.com

Disclaimers: The characters of Xena, Gabrielle, Lao Ma, Alti, Borias, and everyone else who sounds familiar belong to Pac Ren and Universal Studios. I am not making money off of this story.

Genre Disclaimer: Ok. Bear with me, please, because this is kinda tough to explain. Sometime last year, I read a story on the internet that moved me so much, I was inspired to write a sort of companion piece to it. That story was “Lost Soul Walking” by DJWP. In her words, “This is NOT UberXena fiction. It just starts out like it is.” The same can be said for this piece. While not directly related to “Lost Soul Walking”, “Desert Storm” can be considered a sort of prequel to it. It is a story, if you will, about the lifetime before the one depicted in that fabulous, outstanding story. (Can you tell I loved it?) In addition, this is somewhat of an ambitious piece of fiction, in that I am attempting (don’t know if I’ve succeeded, but I’ve attempted) to take the entire X:WP universe and modernize it. We start, in updated terms, with my version of Xena’s betrayal by Caesar (seen in “Destiny”), and continue up through the X:WP episode known as “Remember Nothing”. The plot will be very recognizable to you. It’s meant to be that way.

Special note: Because of this, Gabrielle does not appear, except in offhand mention, in a great deal of the first half of this story. Do not look for her, because you won’t find her. After all, she was not a part of ‘evil Xena’s’ life. If she were, things might have turned out differently, but because this is based on the premise of “Lost Soul Walking” it cannot happen differently. Gabrielle will, however, make her presence known, and that quite strongly, in the second half of the story. If you can hang on till then, I believe that you will not be disappointed.

Sexuality and Violence Disclaimers: We’re dealing with an updated dark Xena through much of the first half, and an updated redeemed Xena through the second. There’s gonna be violence. There are gonna be naughty words. There are also descriptions of sexual activity in this work. There are allusions to heterosexual sex, but nothing graphic. There are some graphic (though I hope tasteful) scenes of sexual expression between women as well. That is how I see the relationship between Xena and Gabrielle, and that is how I will continue to write it.

And, finally, thanks: To, as always, the incomparable Mike. A better beta and a better friend one could never hope for. Thank you also, as always, to Mary D, who rescued this story from the refuse heap and begged me to keep going on it. If you hate it, blame her. <w> Grateful and heartfelt appreciation goes out to DJWP, for continuing to write stories that grab me somewhere above the liver and giving her kind permission to mention her story in these disclaimers. If you haven’t read her stories, please, do yourself a favor and do so. Finally, this story is dedicated to a group of people without whom I would most probably be living on the streets. Elizabeth, Rachel, Sulli, and the rest of the “Get Sue to Atlanta” crew, this one’s for you!

Feedback: As always is gratefully appreciated. If you wrote to me regarding “Redemption” during the month of September to early October and I haven’t responded, please allow me the honor of apologizing in public. It was then that I was at my lowest point and making ready to move to my new home. Your words of praise and encouragement for my writing kept me firmly out of the pit of depression I was falling into and I shall be forever grateful to each and every one of you who took the time out to feed this bard. And for those of you patiently (or not so patiently) waiting for Redemption’s sequel, fear not, for with the conclusion of this piece, that piece will be started. Any and all who wish to may write me at SwordnQuil@aol.com . I’ll continue to do my best to answer each and every email. An exploding mailbox is a good thing to have. Thanks again!

DESERT STORM

by: Sword’n’Quill (Susanne Beck)

Same Day. Mid-Morning. Lao Ma’s Home. Chengdu, China.

Kael awoke shortly after dawn, as was her habit no matter how little sleep she managed to get the night before. Long years of military service had managed to survive the drug and crime induced haze of her new life, forcing her body into a state of awareness that came with the sun’s rising.

Regardless of its brevity, her sleep had been the most refreshing she could ever remember having. It was free of the nightmares usually plaguing her attempts at rest and seemed, because of that, much longer and more restful than was usual for the troubled criminal.

Slipping from the bed, the American found herself pleasantly surprised when her body offered up only the most minimal of protests. Curious, she checked beneath the bandage on her leg, pleased to see the wound had been well tended and, in fact, seemed well on its way to recovery without further intervention.

She paused as her rapidly awakening mind replayed the events of the night before. Her mind slowed as memories of the bath and what came after played behind her eyes. That woman has great power. I want that power. And I’m gonna get that power.

Snickering inwardly, she pulled on the robe and belted the sash before walking barefoot out of the small bedroom and following sensitive hearing to a place where women were heard to be talking. Eventually, she came upon a formal dining room, its long, low table surrounded by young women sitting on pillows and eating breakfast.

Lao Ma looked up, smiling and coming to her feet as she saw her guest enter into the room. “Welcome, Kael. Please, sit and break your fast with us.”

Kael allowed herself to be escorted to a space near the head of the table. Sitting crosslegged in front of a feast of Chinese delicacies, she took a sip of the bracing green tea set before her and dug right in, more famished than she could remember being in a long time.

Conversation muted since Kael’s entrance, and every so often she’d look up to catch one or more of the young women looking her way. She noted with appreciation that the women were much more beautiful without their traditional facepaint exaggerating their features. When she met their eyes, each woman would look shyly down after the briefest of seconds. Ordinarily, this overt staring would have aggravated the volatile American. That morning, however, she was in such a good mood that she didn’t let it bother her.

Instead, she spent her meal flirting outrageously, if non-verbally, with the women at the table, inordinately pleased with her self when she managed to get a blush or a girlish giggle from each and every one, save for the serene woman sitting at the head of the table, who pointedly ignored the goings on.

To say that Kael was fascinated by Lao Ma would have been an understatement of the most grandiose proportions. She was more enigmatic than Kael, a woman who buried her emotions hard and deep, could ever hope to be. She seemed to carry the secrets of the world within her heart. She could tell just by looking that the Asian had power beyond reckoning. Kael’s quick mind began to plot and plan on how to get that power and make it her own.

All in all, though not one word was spoken, it was a very interesting meal.

*******

Breakfast complete, Lao Ma rose gracefully from her position at the head of the table. “If it pleases you, Kael, would you join me in my sitting room? We have some things which require discussion.”

Jumping easily to her feet, Kael simply nodded, determined not to fall into the trap of complacency that had so effortlessly snared her the evening before. Lao Ma had something she wanted, and she was determined to do whatever it took to get it.

The two women walked down several long, narrow halls before coming to an open, airy space. Light streamed into the room from various unshaded windows, casting colorful patterns on the floor and walls. There was a simple desk at one end of the room, and several comfortable-looking chairs filled out the rest of the furniture requirements.