Desert Storm

With a low, keening groan, Geraldo did the only thing he could. He capitulated without a fight.

*******

It was, she supposed, a pretty ordinary dream for someone who’d been clean of drugs for three months and had enough opium now running through her system to fell a moose. Smells, sounds and sights snapped at her with hyper-vivid clarity, imbuing her senses with a sort of other-worldly surrealism.

She was sitting in some sort of a … tent was the best word that came to mind. She could feel the thick luxurity of the furs beneath her semi reclining body, a body which was clad in some sort of cloth and metal which felt heavy enough to be armor. A strange, haunting melody sounded from behind her while in front, Geraldo sat, his long black hair done up in some sort of top-knot. Next to him sat a beautiful Asian woman clad in a traditional red silk robe which brought out the highlights of her raven hair and eyes to exquisite perfection. Kael brought the thin stem of an opium pipe up to her lips and inhaled, looking through the smoky haze as a seduction played itself out right in front of her.

She watched through narrowed eyes as Geraldo enchanted the beautiful woman, serving her food as if she were a princess and he, a lowly valet. His hands were gentle upon her body and his face soft as he bent to whisper whimsical nonsense into one delicate ear. She felt a rage flow through her on the wings of the drug she took into her lungs. She saw the woman look at her deeply, before looking away and smiling at something Geraldo whispered to her.

Kael tried to interpret the look through her drug-filled haze. Was it desire? For her? For him? Her rage built as the answer eluded her. The woman smiled coyly once more as she began to reach a slim, perfectly manicured hand across the table. Kael reached down and liberated a knife at her waist, snarling and throwing it so that it landed, point first and hilt thrumming, just inches away from the woman’s reaching hand. “That’s my piece of meat you’re reaching for,” she heard herself growl.

“You’re wrong,” the woman responded, her voice as graceful as her form and movements. “I don’t eat meat.”

The sense of Geraldo shifting under her woke Kael and scattered her dream to the four winds. Groaning softly, she rolled off her lover’s recumbent body, forcing herself to her feet as a hangover thudded sickly in her temples. An ugly grin twisted her features as the half-clad man mumbled in his sleep, turning over and grabbing a pillow, snuggling it against his chest. “You’ve gone soft, Geraldo,” she sneered, running a hand through her sleep-tangled hair. “Soft as a pig’s belly.”

*******

The next two weeks saw the lovers drifting further and further apart. Geraldo continued on in his negotiations with Ming Dao, going over and over the million tiny sticking points that prevented a successful business arrangement between the two parties.

Of course, being the man he was, he was also attempting to forge alliances with some of the other drug lords dotting the Chinese landscape, but Ming Dao didn’t need to know that. It was more than enough for now that the man continued to negotiate, given the horrible first step that had been made with Kael.

For her part, the tall American was every bit as busy as her bed partner. Her days were spent putting her long years of military training to good use as she staked out Ming’s estate, greedily gathering up as much information about the man’s living habits as she could without being noticed. Ming Dao was a creature of habit and if Kael had anything to say about it, those habits would be his undoing. She watched in gleeful satisfaction as he and his retinue of guards and beautiful women took their morning constitutional on the lush grounds of the estate at the exact same time each day. She had the little jaunt timed down to the second, watching them return just as the black sedan bearing her dark lover pulled onto the grounds.

Her nights were spent in the myriad of opium dens lining the city streets which promised oblivion to those passing by, luring them in with exotic scents and sounds and ensnaring them into a world of decadence and depravity. Kael learned many interesting things during her underworld tours, chief among them the fact that Ming Dao doted on his young son to the exclusion of all else save his priceless antiques and the millions of dollars he made trafficking in illegal drugs. The young boy was never out of his father’s sight except for the times Ming Dao and his followers would walk the grounds each morning.

Ming Dao had several wives and more concubines than an Arabian sheik, yet the story was that only one of the beautiful women he courted was able to bear him a son who lived past infancy. For her troubles, the drug lord had her killed so that his son would not have to split his loyalties or his love.

Gotta give him points for that one, Kael thought when she heard the story, the viciousness of the act planting a tiny kernel of respect for the man in her mind. She sneered in satisfaction when she realized that she’d discovered probably the only weakness of the feared drug lord, the love he had for his son. It was a weakness she planned to exploit to the fullest. Paybacks are a real bitch, Ming.

Now that she had the means to an end, all that remained was the planning. For this she used her most potent three weapons; her drugs, her money and her long, beautiful body. Men were the most amenable to this type of persuasion. A little cash, a little dope and a promise of ‘later’ would have them giving her the numbers to their secret bank accounts if she’d wanted them. Which she didn’t. The women were harder to get a handle on, well used to having drugs and money shoved in their faces as payment for services soon to be rendered.

Rising to the challenge, as always, Kael chose to forgo the drugs and money, skipping instead to the third weapon in her arsenal. A surprising number of women took the American beauty up on her offer for reasons undisclosed even to their seducer. Kael didn’t much care what the reasons were as she took the women to a small hotel room she’d rented for this purpose. The words trembled from their lips as the tall American delved into the secret recesses of their passions, her senses tingling with the tantalizing taste of eastern spices on her western tongue.

Sooner than even she’d hoped, the plans were finalized. She’d even managed to gather up a goon squad of sorts; heavily muscled men, their bone with Ming Dao well gnawed, who were more than willing to provide whatever assistance was necessary, provided, of course, she keep them well steeped in drugs and petty cash. That wouldn’t be a problem.

11 May 1991. Ming Dao’s Estate. Chengdu, China.

Smiling in satisfaction, Kael lowered the night vision glasses from her eyes and tucked them into the pouch at her waist as she steadied her black-clad body against the thick trunk of the tree she was tucked into. Still well before the first light of dawn, the estate was dark and quiet. Groups of guards, muzzled dogs tethered to their wrists, strolled the vast grounds near the main house in exact, repeating patterns. Kael had been watching the arrangement for the past hour and was well pleased. Spying a weakness in their surveillance net, she figured she had about thirty seconds to cross the approximately one hundred yards from her place of concealment to the house before the guards would come around again.

Peering through the moon-shrouded darkness, the American spied the faint white of the balcony encircling the doorway through which she planned to make entrance. One of the women she’d bedded had, coincidentally, been a maid-servant of Ming Dao’s and was only too happy to provide a rough layout of the house’s interior, a vision which was supported by a few other people she’d talked to. The particular balcony she was spying led to an upper floor room that went mostly unused; an extra office of sorts which was currently being used for storage.

As she watched, the guards came around the house again, talking in low tones which whispered to her over the passing gentle breeze. She tensed her body, adrenaline coursing through her, engorging her muscles and forcing her heart to pound strongly, steadily. As the guards passed beyond the perimeter, Kael took a deep breath, then leapt from the tree, landing noiselessly upon the immaculately manicured lawn. She was running even as her feet hit the earth, her long legs exploding, thigh muscles coiling and relaxing as she flew across the grounds, silent as a stalking cat.

Lengthening her stride just before the balcony, Kael squatted slightly, then jumped, catching her hands on the balcony rail and pressing herself over, to land silently on the deck, freezing in place within the shadows of the building.

The guards came very close to her and she remained still and silent, unsurprised when they didn’t even bother to look upwards, where they would have surely seen her there, waiting. When they disappeared around the corner, the tall American relaxed, silently letting out the breath she’d been holding and reaching into her pouch to retrieve a slim lock-pick, slipping it into the door with gloved hands. After a few seconds of jiggling, the lock clicked. Placing the tool back into her pouch, Kael opened the door hardly more than a crack and slipped her long body inside, closing the door quietly behind her, a smug smile of satisfaction adorning her features.

She looked around the small room, noting its fully western flavor, idly tracing the moon’s wavering patterns on the navy and silver bedspread that covered the large king sized bed. Large boxes stood sentinel against the room’s four walls, piled haphazardly and dusty from disuse. A computer and monitor, its screen also covered with a healthy smattering of dust, stared blindly in her direction. Shaking her head, a wry smile hidden behind the black ski mask she was wearing, Kael crossed the room to slip behind several tall boxes, settling in to wait for morning.

*******

A shaft of sunlight slanted into the room, highlighting the dust moats suspended in the air. The low murmur of voices could be heard throughout the newly wakening house. Kael opened her eyes, fresh from her bout of meditation, slowly stretching and contracting her relaxed limbs, pumping the blood through her rested body. The sound of a heavy door opening and closing was heard and the American woman looked on in satisfaction as Ming Dao and his cronies stepped out into the strong sunlight of the new summer day.

The house became quiet again as Kael stood up from her place of concealment, stalking silently to the door and pressing an ear against it. Hearing nothing, she opened the door a crack, one blue eye peering down the length of the darkened hallway. Satisfied with the silence, she opened the door still further and stepped into the hallway, her steps silent in the plush carpeting.

Keeping fast to the walls, she traversed the entire length of the long hallway, meticulously avoiding the myriad of doors which lined the area. Peering around the corner, her body in shadow, she saw two guards standing sentinel outside one of the rooms. Opening her pouch, the tall American retrieved a small throwing star and, winding up, she threw it down the length of the second hallway to land, imbedded in the far wall. Startled, both guards looked in that direction, and Kael used the distraction to take a running leap down the hall, tackling the first bulky guard and tumbling him into his heavier partner. Both men went down hard, the breath driven from their bodies. A knife glittered in Kael’s hand as she slit the throats of first one, and then both of the guards before they had the chance to recover.

Leaving their bodies in the hallway, the woman quickly opened the door they had been guarding and stepped inside. An old woman was kneeling beside young Ming Lao, her gnarled hands tugging on his wool blazer as his eyes stayed glued to the television broadcasting western cartoons. Hearing the intruder’s entrance, the old woman gasped and fell to the floor, holding her charge in a protective embrace. “Don’t hurt him,” she begged, her wizened eyes wide and pleading. “Take what you want, but please don’t hurt the boy.”

“Oh, I don’t plan on hurting him,” Kael replied, her smile hidden behind the black fabric of her mask. “Or you either, for that matter. As long as you both stay quiet, you don’t have a thing to fear from me.”

Keeping the boy close to her body, the old woman nodded.

“Good. Now get up and step away from the boy. Nice and easy.” The woman continued to cower next to the child, her lips moving silently. “I said step away from the boy, old woman. You really don’t wanna make me angry, now.”

Looking into the fierce, glittering eyes of the intruder, the woman swallowed against the dryness in her throat and nodded, coming slowly, painfully to her feet and stepping away from her young ward.

For his part, the young boy stood silent, his almond eyes wide but unafraid as he took in the tall, menacing form of the intruder.

Reaching back into her pouch, Kael took out a small roll of duct tape, quickly ripping off a piece as she strode up to the grey-haired woman. Steadying her with one hand on her shoulder, Kael eased the tape over the other woman’s mouth, taking care to make sure her nostrils were kept free. Her grip was almost gentle as she led the woman over to the large, silk covered bed and laid her down on her stomach, grasping both wrists and bringing them behind the woman’s back and taping them together. Moving quickly down the bed, she did the same with the woman’s ankles, then stepped away, satisfied with her work. “I have a message for you to give to your master, old woman,” she said in a conversational tone. At the woman’s nod, she continued. “Tell him I have his boy. If he ever wants to see him alive again, he needs to follow my instructions to the letter. He’ll find those instructions pinned to one of the goons outside this room. Do you understand me?”

The old woman nodded again, breathing deeply through her nose and trying not to move against the aching restriction of her bound limbs.

Kael’s smile, though unseen, was terrifying in its malevolence. “Good.” Turning her fierce gaze to the still staring boy, she held out one hand. “Come with me, little Ming. We’re gonna take a little trip together. Sound like fun to you?”

After a long moment, Ming Lao reached out and grasped Kael’s hand. With a quick tug, the American pulled the boy to her and tucked him up under her arm, pulling out a hastily scrawled note and a knife from her pouch with the other. Easing the door open with her foot, Kael kept the young boy secure as she knelt down and laid the scrap of paper on one of the guard’s chest, then rammed her knife deep into his ribcage, pinning the note to his body.

Slinging Ming Lao securely across her hip, Kael quickly made her way down the deserted hallways, stepping silently back into the room through which she’d made entrance into the house. A quick look through the large French doors showed her all was clear and she stepped through them, onto the large balcony. “Hold on tight and don’t make a sound,” she warned the boy as she slipped up and over the balcony railing. Listening again for any sounds, she nodded once, to herself, and jumped off the ledge, landing softly on the thick carpeting of grass.

A quick look around, and she was off, sprinting across the estate grounds back into the covering of trees which sheltered her the night before. “Well, that was easy,” she snickered to her charge as she walked through the small wooded land that separated Ming Dao’s estate from the heavily traveled streets of the Asian city.

To Be Continued…

DESERT STORM

Part 6

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. 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. Hidden Room Deep in the Inner City. Chengdu, China.

Kael sat on a tattered sofa, eating from a slimy cardboard carton and trying to pay attention to the governmental drivel being spouted from the snowy television. Ming Dao remained silent through the whole ordeal, never taking his eyes off the tall woman who had taken him from his home. It was starting to get on the American’s nerves.

“You mute or something?” she growled, flicking a few pieces of rice at him with her chopsticks.

Though he made no move to remove the rice from his face and hair, Ming Dao shook his head slowly.

“Just not one for talkin’, huh?” Kael said around a mouthful of food. “I can relate.”

The boy continued to stare, unblinking, at her.

“Ya know, I could put your eyes out with these, if I wanted.” She jabbed the utensils toward the boy, snickering when she saw him flinch away from her. “That’s better.” She slumped back into the couch, patting her stomach, then folding her hands over it. “Your daddy’s a really mean guy, Ming Dao. But he has one weakness. Ya know what that is?”

Solemnly, the boy shook his head ‘no’.

Kael grinned. “You. Yup. Your old man loves ya. So much that he had your mother killed just so she couldn’t love ya too.” She laughed at Ming Lao’s wide-eyed expression of shock. “Didn’t know that, didja. It’s true, you know.” She drew a finger across her throat. “Just like that. Dead.” Her voice took on a sing-song quality. “He wanted you all to himself.” Her grin widened, becoming malicious. “It’s gonna be his undoing.”

She stretched luxuriously, then let out a contented belch. “When you grow up, assuming you ever do, remember one thing, little Ming. Love makes you weak. It gives your enemies a tool to use against you. And believe me, they’ll use it.” Her grin was self-satisfied. “Just like I did. Remember that.”

Ming Dao’s eyes were deadly serious as he nodded at her, absorbing the information deep into his soul.

*******

A short while later, a polite knock came to the door and Kael flew off the couch, peering through the peep-hole. Smiling, she swung the door open, allowing her visitors entrance. Two stocky, heavily armed men stepped into the room, followed by a petite woman in a flowing silk gown. Ushering her guests inside, Kael returned to the couch, sprawling her rangy body down over the lumpy cushions. “Well?”

One of the guards stepped closer, a smile on his face. “He received your message and accepts your terms.” His smile turned mocking as he set his gaze on Ming Lao. “His only concern is for his poor, dear boy.”

Kael returned the smile. “I’m sure it is.” She turned her attention to the other man. “You have the stuff.”

Nodding, the man handed a large bag over to the American, standing silent while she pawed through the contents. “Perfect,” she said finally, zipping up the duffel and laying it beside the couch. “Are we all set otherwise?”

The second man nodded. “Everything is in order.”

Kael nodded, crossing her arms over her chest and smiling. “Good. Go on back to the estate and keep your eyes open. Anything looks strange, notify me immediately, understand?”

“It shall be as you wish,” the man said, bowing deeply and turning to leave the room.

The American turned her icy gaze to the second man. “Take up a position outside. Contact me if anyone suspicious comes sniffing around.”

“As you wish,” the second man replied, bowing, then hefting his weapon as he let himself out of the rooms.

That left only the petite woman and the young boy. Looking at the woman, Kael’s smile deepened into one of seduction. Which, unfortunately, was ruined by a jaw-cracking yawn, reminding her that her last shot at sleep had been more than forty eight hours prior. She looked at the silken vision before her regretfully, pleased by the woman’s charming blush and downcast eyes. Kael sighed, then bent down and retrieved a semi-automatic weapon from the duffel she’d been given earlier. “Keep an eye on this little monster while I go in the back. If anyone knocks, come and get me. Don’t answer the door under any circumstances. Understand?”

The woman nodded silently, eyes still downcast as the tall woman moved to stand before her.

Kael hefted her weapon, pointing its lethal muzzle squarely between the staring almond eyes of Ming Lao. “Behave, little Ming,” she growled.

The boy nodded solemnly, never taking his eyes off hers.

Grinning, she lowered her weapon and made for the back room, slamming the door behind her and sinking blissfully into the soft down of the mattress, her weapon at her side.

*******

Kael woke from her deep sleep quickly, in the space between one heartbeat and the next, her senses fully extended, her being silent, even her breathing halted. The muffled sound of quiet voices was heard through the thin boundary of the room’s wall. It was difficult to pick up the words, but the tones were unmistakable. One speaker was her female companion, the other was …she strained still further …one of her guards, the one she had sent over to watch Ming Dao’s estate. Kael’s hand gripped convulsively around the gun at her side as her eyes narrowed, straining to hear the quietly murmured words, her body shouting out warnings of immediate danger.

Her eyes darted about the small, dark room, assessing her chances for escape, were one needed. They were very slim. Only a small, reinforced window sitting well above her bed gave her any hope. The sound of an almost silent knocking to the main door, and the further sound of that door quietly opening and closing, spurred the tall American into action. Quickly, soundlessly, she rolled from the bed, her weapon poised and ready in her hands. Almost without thought, she leapt on top of the tall, rickety dresser, knowing that if her betrayers burst in, they would aim for the bed first.

There she stayed, silent, waiting, her body pumping adrenaline through her system, infusing her musculature, readying it for action. A dark smile creased her shadowed features, despite the danger about to face her. Only at times like this, her death a very real possibility, did Kael feel fully, impossibly, alive. One long finger caressed the trigger of her weapon like the tender skin of a lover.

In the brief eternity of waiting, her mind had time to contemplate and chastise her for her stupidity in trusting people so easily bought with drugs and money. Further self-flagellating thoughts of that nature were mercifully silenced by the sound of confident footsteps leading to the door to her room. Her nostrils flared and she could fairly smell the scent of betrayal as it oozed its way under the crack at the bottom of the door.

From her place in the veiled shadows of the night, Kael watched intently as the moon-bathed doorknob twisted slowly, once, twice. Her fierce eyes glinted briefly in amusement she heard a muffled curse directed to the locked door. The footsteps backed away a pace and she readied herself for action.

The door blew open with a resounding crack, arcing gracefully toward the wall, its now impotent knob breaking through the wall’s weak plaster and sending puffs of white up and out to be caught by the moon’s light as it mimicked snow.

A large bull of a man burst through the open doorway, his weapon hefted and ready. The rapid sound of gunfire sounded loud in the tiny confines. Bits of shredded betting and wall plaster scattered throughout the room, drifting on the stained and colorless rug. As the man stepped in further, confident his goal had been met, Kael drew a bead on his bald, shining head and squeezed the trigger ever so gently. The man’s head disappeared in a fountain of blood and gore. His body bounced off the bed, then rolled to lay beneath her.

Two more heavily muscled men burst into the room, firing blindly. Kael picked them off easily, the grin of her bared and growling teeth a specter in the moonlight.

The fourth man to enter was a bit calmer, and was able to crease her shin with a bullet before his firing went awry, doing Kael’s job for her by splintering the room’s only avenue of escape. She finished him off as well, trying to keep her weight off her injured leg while still maintaining balance on the wobbling dresser.

Shouting in the other room told Kael her time had well and truly run out. Wincing at the pain of her wound, the American squatted slightly against the wall, then flung her body up and to the left, bracing for impact with the lethal shards of glass left behind.

Hot breath hissed through her teeth as razor sharp glass tore through her thin cotton shirt, imbedding itself into the warm skin below her shoulders. A brief instant of weightlessness and she was falling free, her long body propelled into the chill air by the strength of her legs. She maintained enough presence of mind to compact her body into a tight tuck and roll and sped toward the onrushing ground feet first. Her wounded leg gave out and Kael sprawled onto the broken pavement, glass shards showering over her bloodied form.

Quickly, she broke herself out of her mild daze, pulling herself up to her feet and grabbing her weapon securely against her. A quick look up at the broken window and the weapon muzzles suddenly protruding from it and she was off, limping and running down the midnight-deserted inner city streets, leaving several trails of blood behind to mark her passing.

Running steps and weapons fire came inexorably closer as Kael stumbled her way down the damp city streets, scraping her palms raw against the crumbling cement as her leg intermittently gave way, dumping her onto the pavement.

“C’mon, Kael, run,” she whispered to herself, beads of sweat popping out over her eyes and lips. “You’ve been through worse before and came out just fine on the other end.”

The gray haze of too many sleepless nights, too much opium, and blood loss threatened to take her under with it as she stumbled to the ground once again. Jumping back to her feet, she reached down and jabbed a finger directly into the bullet hole in her shin.

Agony sliced through her like razor wire, jerking her back from the precipice of semi-consciousness she had been about to fall into. Her eyes darted back and forth along the narrow street, looking for escape routes as she ran, just barely keeping ahead of the quickly approaching armed mob.

A tiny alley off to the left caught her vision and she darted into it, almost slipping in the accumulated water and debris littering the pavement. The alley stank of rotting food and the slimy mess squelched around her bare feet, turning her already nauseated stomach.

“Adapt and overcome,” she muttered to herself, trying to make herself as invisible and silent as possible. The water and sodden garbage would serve to hide her blood trail, giving her just a bit more breathing room.

Easing back against one dirty, wet and crumbling brick wall, she peered carefully around the corner, ducking back quickly as she caught a glimpse of the onrushing men. She pulled back completely into the shadows as they flew past and watched as a sputtering streetlamp gilded their features in gold.

Her blood froze in her veins.

“Geraldo, you stinking son of a whore. You betrayed me.” Her lips peeled back in a death’s head smile. “You’d better light a few more candles to the Virgin tonight, my friend. Cause you’re gonna need her help where you’re goin’.”

Turning as quickly as she was able, Kael darted out the other end of the alleyway, making a complete circle so as to briefly confuse her pursuers.

Then she made another circle through intersecting alleys and headed back down the main thoroughfare, listening closely for any hint that the enemy was getting closer.

A loud shout echoed off the dank walls looming over the streets, causing Kael to shoot a quick look over her left shoulder, trying to pinpoint the sound. As a consequence, her next step was halted, unannounced, when she came into contact with a slight, warm body.

Her body stiffened as if galvanized and she brought her bloodied hands up in a defensive posture as she whipped her head around, stringy tendrils of her hair plastering themselves to her face.

Realizing that only a slight, if beautiful, Asian woman was the only thing impeding her path, she pressed her open hands against the woman’s narrow shoulders and pushed.

The woman didn’t move. Not the slightest inch.

Kael shoved harder, with the same result. It was like trying to push a boulder socketed into the earth.

“Come with me,” the woman said serenely, her English barely accented.

“Get outta my way!” Kael snarled, pushing away.

Her eyes widened in shock as she found herself helplessly restrained by a woman half her size.

“You will die like a dog in an alley if you do not come with me now,” the woman said, her intense stare cutting through Kael’s drug and adrenaline-induced haze. Her voice was calming, serene.

“Who are you?”

The woman didn’t answer. Instead, she looked past Kael’s shoulder. “You must make your choice now. I have no wish to lose my life with yours.”

A short second later, Kael heard the shouting of the men trailing her. She looked back at the strange woman still holding her. It was like looking into the surface of an utterly still pool of water. She felt all resistance leave her.

The woman smiled, the expression lighting up her face and making it radiant.

Shifting her grip to Kael’s elbow, the woman gently ushered the tall American into the building from which she’d appeared. The door closed almost silently behind them.

Kael stiffened as she heard the sound of feminine giggling from above. Immediately in front of her was a long set of steps ascending into an unknown part of the building in which she now found herself. At the top of those steps, young, painted Asian women giggled behind the hems of their colorful robes.

The American turned to the smaller woman, her eyes again wide. “A whorehouse? You took me into a whorehouse?”

If the Asian was perturbed by Kael’s question, she certainly didn’t show it. “Safety is often found in the last place one would think to look,” she replied.

Kael shook her head in amazement as the women above giggled once again. “Who are you?” she asked again.

“I am Mistress of this place. Welcome to my home, Kael Androstos.”

Pulling the woman up from her formal bow, Kael bared her teeth. “How do you know my name,” she demanded, her grip like iron about the thin, almost frail, woman’s upper arm. “How!?!”

“I know many things about you, your name the least significant among them,” the woman replied serenely, not showing a hint of pain from the American’s tight grip. “Please follow me.”

Shrugging off Kael’s hand as if it were but a minor annoyance, the woman gathered up her robe and began to walk up the steps, leaving the American to follow, bewildered, behind her.

When they got to the top of the stairs, the woman issued a terse set of orders to her employees in a dialect Kael, an expert on many foreign languages, didn’t understand. A moment later, several of the women scampered back down the steps, bearing towels and water which they used to wipe away any traces of the American’s passage.

The woman led Kael through a myriad of rooms which the drug lord guessed were part of the living quarters of the massive pleasure house. Everywhere they walked, groups of smiling, giggling women would follow their passage with sparkling almond eyes.

As they were just about to enter the largest of the rooms, which looked to Kael to be a formal sitting room, a loud pounding was heard from the downstairs door, the rear exit which Kael had been ushered through just moments before.

Her savior quickly grasped Kael by the elbow and urged her into the sitting room. The floor was made of highly polished wood and a simple white rug lay beneath a low, long table. The two women walked quickly to the northwest corner of the room, where the older woman released Kael’s arm and bent down, somehow grasping some hidden lip and pulling up a section of the flooring, exposing a dark space below. “Hurry inside. It is damp and small, but it will keep you safe. Go. Now.”

“I’m not … .” Kael protested.

She was interrupted by a louder pounding and yelled obscenities from the other side of the door.

“Now. Please.”

Nodding, the American jumped down into the hole, her feet hitting the ground quickly. Half of her body was still above the flooring, and she carefully, and painfully, shimmied into the space.

Tight, indeed.

She sat there, knees pulled up to her chin, her head bowed, as the flooring was lowered over her, encasing her in total darkness.

“Great,” she muttered, her breathing loud in the tiny confines of the crawlspace.

Once the American was sufficiently hidden, the woman dusted off her hands and made her way back through the house and down the stairs. Taking a moment to make sure her appearance was nothing short of perfect, she opened the door, smiling serenely.

At the sight of her late night visitor, she bowed deeply. “I am honored that you have chosen to visit my unworthy home, Ming Dao. What might I do to assist you this evening?”

“I want the bitch. I know you have her.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand you, Ming Dao. If you are looking for a woman, I have many that might please you, Most Honored One.”

Ming Dao lifted his hand to slap the woman, then appeared to think better of the action. “You know damn well who I’m talking about. The blue-eyed American bitch. I know she’s in here. Her trail leads right to your door.”

“I assure you, Honored Guest, I have not seen the person of whom you speak. You may, of course, feel free to search my home, if it pleases you.” So saying, she stepped away from the door, one robe covered arm bidding entrance to the Chinese drug lord and his men.

With a grunt, Ming Dao gestured to his men, and all pushed past the tiny woman and into the vast home.

When everyone had reached the top of the stairs, the drug lord motioned his men off in different directions while he remained behind. “If it pleases you,” the woman said, bowing again, “allow me the honor of serving you while your men carry out their work.”

“That …would be acceptable,” Ming Dao replied, allowing his ‘host’ to lead him into the formal sitting room, where pots of tea, mugs, and Chinese delicacies already awaited the pair.

As the two seated themselves, another woman entered the room, clothed in formal robes, and began serving the two, pouring tea and arranging the finger foods as the sounds of a room to room search echoed through the cavernous building.

From her spot beneath it all, Kael struggled against the cramps that were threatening her contorted body. The bullet wound throbbed and stung. She gritted her teeth against the pain. With her sensitive hearing, she struggled to pick up the conversation taking place almost directly over her head, but the trap door had been seated so perfectly that only the tiniest of unintelligible sounds floated down to her from above.

She sighed softly in frustration before almost blowing her cover when something soft and twitchy brushed against the skin of her hand. In a lighting move, she lashed out and caught her visitor, knowing what it was by the shape of its body, even in the total darkness. Her lip curled in revulsion. God, do I hate rats.

A quick twist of her fingers and the rat was no more.

Dropping the corpse next to her body, she wiped her hand on her dirty, tattered pants and willed that none of the deceased’s family would come investigate the homicide.

Totally oblivious to the object of his search hiding almost below his ample posterior, Ming Dao finished the last of his tea and placed the mug down with an impudent clatter. Just as he was about to speak, one of his men came into the room and bowed. “The search is complete, sir. We have not found the woman.”

Ming Dao slammed his hand down on the table, rattling the plates and cups. “What do you mean you haven’t found her? She is here! Search again!”

“But sir … .”

“Search again!!! Keep searching until you find her! Is that clear? Do you understand me?!?”

The man bowed again. “As you wish, sir.”

12 May 1991. Very early morning. Chinese Pleasure House. Chengdu, China.

It was well into the hours of the early morning when Ming Dao was finally persuaded to give up the search. His men had searched the whorehouse from top to bottom, bottom to top, and hadn’t found anything. All the women had been questioned, several times each, without any leads.

Ming Dao’s face was flushed brick with rage.

He stood nose to nose with the petite Asian woman, his entire body trembling with barely suppressed anger. “That …woman …was …here!” he enunciated clearly from between clenched teeth.

The woman remained supremely unfazed. “If she was, she is here no longer. Your men have searched every inch of my home, Ming Dao. There is no one here.”

“You know she was here! That door can only be opened from the inside. Tell me where you sent her or I will burn this place to the ground and you and all your whores with it!”

The woman smiled, then bowed her head. “This home, these women and, of course, myself are yours to do with as you will, Honorable Ming Dao. If it pleases you to burn all that we are, it is not my place to stop you. But, I assure you, I cannot tell you what I do not know.”

Ming Dao looked deep into the eyes of the woman, someone he had known for years upon years. He could detect no sign of malfeasance in her calm stare. But, then again, he never could.

His fists balled in frustration, but, in the end, he was forced to go with the inevitable. Gathering up his men, the drug lord shooed them down the stairs and out the door. “My men will be watching this place very carefully,” he warned. “If that whore is found within a mile of here, I’ll follow through on my threat. Do not be so complacent as to think that I won’t.”

“I would never presume to believe such a thing, Ming Dao,” the woman replied, bowing deeply. “Thank you for honoring my humble dwelling with your presence. It is my hope that we shall meet again, under more pleasant circumstances.”

Damn the woman! Ming Dao thought as he threw one last warning glare at her before finally turning and leaving the establishment. I know she knows more than she is telling me. I can smell her treachery. I just can’t prove it. And I can’t afford to be wrong. Not with her.

With a last, frustrated glare, Ming Dao turned and left the building. The war is not lost, he told himself as the door closed behind him. If revenge is indeed a dish best served cold, I will wait until the very sun freezes into a ball of ice. I will have that woman. If it takes my last breath to do so, I will have her.

*******

After seeing her guests safely from her home, the petite Asian woman returned to the sitting room after issuing orders to some of the women who rejoined her. Walking over to the area housing the underground crawlspace, she pulled at the nearly invisible joins at the flooring and, as if by magic, the opening beneath was revealed.

Kael, trapped within her enforced misery for several hours, threw her hands up and squinted into the sudden, blinding light, blinking rapidly. Her cramped body was coiled and tense, ready for action, if such would be required.

The woman simply smiled down at her, lowering an outstretched hand. “The danger has passed. It is safe now.”

Ignoring the offer of help, Kael carefully braced her hands on the floorboards and hauled her long body out of the tiny hole, determined not to show any weakness to this strange woman. Her injured leg threatened to give way beneath her, but she managed to maintain a steady pose, eyeing the other woman expectantly, eyebrow raised.

“Please, come with me, Kael Androstos,” the woman said. “It has been a long and no-doubt trying evening. A bath, clean clothes, and a bed have all been prepared for you. Allow me to take you to them.”

Kael, who could easily smell the waves of stink radiating up from her filthy body, swallowed any objections she might have voiced, and instead nodded to the woman, opting to follow her through the house once again.

The woman led Kael into an enormous bathing chamber. The huge tub was filled with steaming water upon which lotus blossoms floated. “I will take your clothes and you may bathe at your leisure.”

Looking down at the smaller woman, Kael was again struck by her delicate beauty. A cocky snicker curled her lips and she reached up slowly to begin unbuttoning her tattered, stained shirt. “I normally don’t get naked in front of a beautiful woman who’s name I don’t know,” she purred, slowly revealing and displaying her body to its greatest advantage in the dim, humid light.

“You seem to have a strange fascination with names. Are they truly that important to you?”

Kael shrugged. “Sometimes. And since you seem to know mine … .” Naked, she spread her long arms out, her grin a mixture of cocky surety and outright sultriness.

“You’re a very interesting woman.”

“So they say.”

The woman was silent a moment, thinking. Then she gave the slightest of sighs. “I am known as Lao Ma.”

Kael’s eyebrow ascended. “A very …historic …name. For a whorehouse madam, especially.”

“One of my ancestors was wife to Lao T’su.”

The American’s grin widened. “She must be spinning in her grave over what became of her line.”

Lao Ma’s eyes narrowed. “As must yours be.”

Kael dropped her arms, her aura fairly bristling with malicious intent. “What do you mean.”

Lao Ma sighed again. “It is nothing. Please forgive my rudeness. You are a guest in my home. You would honor me greatly by accepting my hospitality.”

Kael remained motionless, trying to read the woman before her. It was trying to look through a mirror. Her jaw tightened in frustration. Then her body signaled its fervent desire to give in to its insidious craving for relief. The bath called, its siren’s voice too seductive for even Kael to ignore. Shooting Lao Ma a glare that would have felled a lesser person in their tracks, she stepped over the lip and into the tub, pausing only as the hot water lapped stingingly at her open wound.

Fortunately, the wound, though painful, was less severe than she had first thought, being merely a crease to the muscled part of her shin and calf and managing to miss the bones entirely; a fact for which she was profoundly grateful.

The pause was but a brief one, and before a second had passed, Kael had immersed her long frame into water up to her chin. She bit back a groan of utter bliss as the water immediately started to work its magic on her abused body, loosening knots even she hadn’t known she had.

“I’m going soft,” she hissed into a now empty room, Lao Ma having left silently as soon as Kael was fully immersed herself. Grabbing some pleasantly scented soap, she slapped her hand down into the water. “I can’t believe I let those bastards get the drop on me. Trusting a bunch of drugged out half-wits. What was I thinking?!? Since when have I ever trusted anyone but myself?”

Washing her skin so harshly that her flesh turned red from the abuse, Kael tried to think of the answer to her own question. When had she ever trusted anyone but herself? Iraq? Perhaps, to some extent. She needed to trust in her team in order to complete her missions. But that trust always went so far and no further.

She winced internally, trying to push that train of thought off the tracks before she would be forced to re-examine the steaming trash heap her life had become.

Some things just didn’t bear too close an inspection.

Placing the soap back into its holder, she leaned back, stretched out, and allowed herself to fall into a light, healing doze, confident that her senses would warn her if danger came lurking about.

And so it was with a nasty surprise that she jerked awake from her peaceful sleep to a soft voice whispering in her ear. “Keep your eyes closed,” the voice advised.

Kael struggled to sit up, but the hand on her shoulder exerted more force than she was capable of resisting. Shock ran through her nerve endings as her languid muscles jumped to attention.

“Please, you are in no danger. I have merely come to ask if you should wish help in washing your hair.”

The identity of the voice filtered through her panicked senses and Kael relaxed minutely, grunting out her assent, not trusting herself to do anything more than that.

Soon, warm water cascaded down over her head. Then a sweet-scented shampoo was massaged into her hair by fingers that were far stronger than they appeared at first glance. Against her better judgement, the American felt herself relaxing once again, calmed by a force she didn’t understand. That alone set her internal alarm jangling discordantly, but she didn’t seem to have the will to fight against it.

All too soon, the wonderful massage was completed, and her hair rinsed of its burden. As if in a dream, Kael allowed Lao Ma to help her from the tub and found herself standing silently and complacently as the tiny Asian woman gently toweled her skin dry.

Almost as serene as her much-venerated ancestor, this Lao Ma was also just as human. Like the woman many years dead, she found herself powerfully drawn to the tall, powerful and supremely willful person she had saved from Ming Dao and his thugs. Her body responded just as powerfully to the beautiful woman’s nakedness and she allowed that attraction to flow through her naturally. For it was the natural order of things upon which her whole philosophy rested.

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. 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.

Kael took an offered seat, looking around curiously at the soothing tapestries which covered the walls. The whole room seemed to be given to quiet contemplation and the American found herself quite liking it.

Lao Ma took a seat in another of the chairs, facing Kael at an oblique angle. “Was your sleep restful?” she asked after a long pause.

“It was.”

Lao Ma smiled. “It pleases me to hear that. Is your wound troubling you?”

“No. It’s just fine.”

Nodding, the smaller woman relaxed into her chair, her posture, as always, one of dignity and grace. Kael could easily feel the seductive pull of the Lao Ma’s natural power, but was determined not to give in to it.

Slow minutes passed by as the women stared into each other’s eyes, neither showing any signs of breaking the stalemate.

Finally, Lao Ma cleared her throat and smiled, very slightly. “You are a woman of strong will, Kael Androstos.”

The corner of Kael’s mouth curled upward. “What clued ya in?”

Lao Ma refused to be drawn. “If you continue to serve your will like a slave to his Master, it will be your undoing. To depend solely upon your will is to upset the delicate balance of your true nature. It will get you nowhere.”

“Ya don’t say.”

“Did your will allow you to sell Ming Dao’s son back to him for ransom? Did your will keep those thugs and whores you bought off with money and sex loyal to you?”

With the first of Lao Ma’s polite questions, Kael began to slowly rise from her seat, her face set into stony planes of anger. “How do you know these things?” she asked from between clenched teeth.

“I know many things about you, Kael Androstos.”

Coming fully out of the chair, Kael stepped toward Lao Ma, her fists clenched at her sides, her body rigid with feral intensity. “You goddamned son of a … .”

Before Kael could finish the epithet, Lao Ma raised her hands and the American found herself blown back into her seat, stunned and out of breath. She felt as if she had just been touched with a cattle prod. She tried to lift her arms, but they didn’t seem to want to work anymore. Likewise, her legs appeared to have given up the ghost.

“The effect is only temporary,” Lao Ma advised.

“How did you do that?” Kael asked, surprised that she had the voice for it.

“You desired to cause harm. That desire was turned back upon you.”

“Bullshit.” The tingling feelings were beginning to abate. Kael found herself able to move her arms and legs more normally. She shook both hands vigorously.

“I have no reason to lie. If one fills oneself with desire, one sees only illusion. Empty oneself of desire and one can see the great mystery of things.”

“Like the mystery of how to force someone away from you without even touching them, huh?”

Lao Ma smiled. “Among other things, yes. Will and desire are concepts that have no place in the natural order of things. Yet you bandy them about like they are priceless objects. You feel like you can bend anyone you desire under your will. And you are just finding out now how false a theory that is.” Turning her head a little, Lao Ma gazed upon one of the tapestries that hung on the wall. “My wise ancestor was known by a particular saying.”

“And what was that.”

“Soft as water, yet who can withstand the raging flood?”

Kael smirked again. “Oh yeah. That’s a keeper alright.”

“Water can heal or harm with equal force, Kael. Yet it desires to do neither. It has no will. It simply acts according to its nature. Yet it is more powerful that you or I will ever be. And that is one of the great mysteries. That which acts according to its nature will always be more powerful than that which attempts to impose its will upon that nature.”

The American shook her head. “I drop one bomb on your house, and nature pretty much pisses itself all to hell.” Her grin was white with bared teeth.

Lao Ma chose to maintain her serene silence.

Kael shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “Why are you telling me these things?”

Lao Ma closed her eyes for a long moment. “Because I sense the seeds of greatness inside you, Kael Androstos. If you continue to impose your will on all you see, those seeds will never be allowed to germinate and will die, unborn. And that will be a great loss to everyone.”

The American snickered. “I think you need to pick up a little more wisdom from your venerable ancestor, Lao Ma. The only thing ‘great’ about me is my capacity to do ‘great’ evil. And I happen to like it that way.”

“Do you.”

“Yup. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“If I am wrong, it will be revealed soon enough. Until then, I would be honored for the chance to continue speaking with you about these things.”

Kael shrugged. “Why not? I’ve gotta lay low till things with Ming Dao cool down anyway.”

“Wonderful.” Lao Ma rose gracefully from her chair. “My business is set to open for the day soon. If you should wish it, would you like to assist in the preparations?”

“Sure. Sounds like fun.”

*******

Late that evening, Kael found herself back in Lao Ma’s personal sitting room, wiping sweat dampened hair back from her forehead. The silk overblouse and loose pants Lao Ma had given her were, likewise, soaked through with sweat in places. “I didn’t realize running a den of iniquity would be quite so tiring.”

Indeed, Kael had been on her feet for over twelve hours, assisting in any way she could. She found herself fascinated by the business of pleasure, but kept herself carefully out of the line of sight of the many customers, never knowing if Ming Dao would try to send a spy inside. The night had, fortunately, been without incident. Kael found herself physically exhausted, a state rare in the trained soldier.

“A garden may grow without aid, but there is more to reaping the harvest than waiting for the rain to fall,” Lao Ma advised.

“Do you always speak in riddles?”

Lao Ma laughed. The sound reminded Kael of the wind-blown tinkle of the tiny chimes which hung outside of many houses in China. It warmed her. She looked upon the smiling woman, her own face softening. “You’re a beautiful woman, Lao Ma.”

To the American’s utter shock, Lao Ma dropped her eyes and blushed, like a schoolgirl.

“It’s good to know you’re human after all,” Kael gently teased.

“I have never claimed to be otherwise,” Lao Ma replied, though she smiled as she spoke the words.

“True. But watching you, you take everything in stride. Nothing seems to faze you.”

“The same could be said of you.”

A dark, knowing smile spread Kael’s lips. “Oh, plenty of things faze me,” she purred, seeing if she could get another shy blush from the normally imperturbable woman.

Lao Ma didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she settled herself comfortably in her own chair, seeming to take in everything and nothing as she glanced around the now silent room. After a long moment, her eyes shifted back to Kael and she smiled slightly. “Would it please you to hear a story?”

Biting back a retort about what would please her more, the American settled for a nod. “Sure. Why not.”

“A long time ago, my ancestor, Lao Ma, attended a fateful meeting in the place of her ailing husband. There, she met an intriguing woman, a warrior from Greece. The woman, who was known as Xena, had become crippled at the hands of someone she thought she loved.”

Kael snorted. “A crippled warrior. Not much call for those.”

“Perhaps, though she learned to fight on horseback and became one of the best warriors, if not the best, of her time. She fled to China after being betrayed by the man and gathered an army there, together with another man she took as her lover.”

“Got around, didn’t she.”

“She was very confused about love,” Lao Ma said softly. “The softer things had no place for her in her heart, or so she told herself. She was consumed by rage and hatred and the need for revenge against anyone who would oppose her.”

“Smart woman,” Kael replied, smirking.

“Was she?”

“Oh yeah.” Kael’s smile grew dark as vivid images of her planned revenge against Geraldo played through her mind. “Very smart.”

Finally noticing the continuing silence, Kael shook herself from her reverie and met Lao Ma’s patient, if saddened, gaze. “Please, continue.”

“Xena was very jealous of her warlord-lover’s attentions to my ancestor and attacked her after dinner that evening. Though crippled to the point of needing to use a cane to walk, Xena was still a formidable foe …as Lao Ma said, she was a dangerous woman.”

“So, Xena beats the crap out of your ancestor and starts a war in China,” Kael deduced.

Lao Ma smiled. “Not exactly.”

“Well don’t leave me hanging, woman! What happened?”

The Asian woman laughed good-naturedly.

Kael scowled. “If you tell me patience is a virtue, I’m gonna scream.”

“I don’t think my windows could survive that,” Lao Ma replied in mock horror.

“Did you just make a joke?”

“I believe I did.”

Grinning, Kael shook her head, suddenly liking the small, quiet and supremely confident woman very much. “Please, will you continue your story?” Dear God, did I just say ‘please’??

“As it pleases you. Lao Ma defended herself much the same way I repelled your attack earlier today. Xena was knocked unconscious and Lao Ma took the opportunity to leave, after speaking with her attacker briefly.”

“What did she say?”

“’Fill yourself with desire and see only illusion. Free yourself of desire and see … .”

“The great mystery of things,” Kael concluded, nodding. “Sounds familiar.”

“It pleases me to know that you heard my words.”

Kael snorted again. “Like I had any choice in the matter? I couldn’t have moved even if I’d wanted to.” She shifted a bit on her chair, pulling the fabric away from her heated skin. “What happened next?” Despite herself, she was becoming quite interested in the story, especially as this Xena person seemed to mirror her life so well. Kael had no doubt that this was Lao Ma’s intent in telling the story.

“Some time passed. And in that time, Lao Ma learned that Xena had made a terrible mistake, causing a powerful head of one of the largest families in China to turn against her. With the help of her warlord-lover, she was captured and handed over to the man, who sent her into the forest and set his hunting dogs after her.”

“Guess she wasn’t so smart after all.”

“No. She was young and full of hate. She thought she could bend the world to her will. She found out just how wrong her philosophy was.”

Kael resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably in her chair, very much aware of the mirror being held up to her eyes. “Did …ah …did the dogs get to her?”

Though she did not say so, Lao Ma could easily detect Kael’s increasing discomfort with the subject matter. Perhaps a breakthrough would come this evening. “Fortunately, they did not. Lao Ma happened to be in the right place at the right time and was able to offer assistance to Xena, who accepted it.”

“Fortunate indeed,” Kael replied. Smiling to herself, the young American steepled her fingers. “It occurs to me that this …tale …is sounding more and more familiar as time goes on.”

Lao Ma nodded sagely. “Left unchecked, history does tend to repeat itself.”

Kael’s eyes narrowed. “Care to explain that?”

“I think the explanation will reveal itself in time.”

Huffing out a frustrated breath, Kael flicked her hand. “Continue then.”

“In time, Xena came to love Lao Ma, becoming my ancestor’s most passionate student. She had an amazing capacity for learning. She soaked up Lao Ma’s teachings as a sponge soaks up seawater. In time, she learned to let go of her hatred and subdue her ravenous will.”

“Did Lao Ma love Xena?”

The Asian woman’s face softened. “Very much so. It is said that Xena was her greatest love. And because of that, some believe, she failed in her mission.”

“What was her mission?”

“To unify all the families in China.”

Kael whistled. “Your ancestor sure didn’t dream small, did she.”

“Indeed not. But while her intentions were pure, her desire for peace throughout the land took her away from her philosophy. And, some believe, it all started with her desire for the Warrior Princess.”

“The ‘Warrior Princess’?”

“Yes. That was the title my ancestor bestowed upon Xena. Through the use of her strong sword arm, coupled with the powers Lao Ma’s teachings had given her, Xena would have been the peace-keeper of a united China.”

“Doesn’t seem like a bad job for a warrior to have. What happened?”

“It became apparent that although Xena sublimated her hatred and need for revenge, she hadn’t cleansed them from her spirit.”

“Ahhh,” Kael said, nodding wisely. “She had fooled Lao Ma.”

“And herself as well. I believe that she really wanted to be what Lao Ma saw in her. The knowledge would not have come to her if she were consciously evading Lao Ma. But when she saw the men who she felt had wronged her, my ancestor’s teachings were buried under a tide of hatred. Lao Ma tried to stop her, but in the end, she failed. Xena left and the houses of China remained separate entities.”

“Damn. That’s tough. What happened to them?”

“Xena went through many more years of revenge and hatred before turning her life around. She never forgot Lao Ma, nor what my ancestor taught her. She spent much of the rest of her life regretting the decisions she had made. But, she eventually became a great force for good and, with the mate to her soul, went on to bring hope back into the world in which she lived.”

“And Lao Ma?”

“She was eventually executed by her son, the emperor of China.”

“Holy shit! Her son?”

“Yes. He was a brutal tyrant. Given her philosophy, and the fact that he was her son, Lao Ma could not divert his course. She sent a message to Xena for help, but it came too late to save her own life.”

“Did Xena get the message?”

“Yes. She returned to China and assassinated the emperor.”

Kael chuckled. “Gotta hand it to her. The woman had balls.”

“Indeed. Though she did feel it was her duty. She helped to create Ming Tien, after all.”

“Wha-at?”

Lao Ma smiled sadly. “That is another story for another day. It is late. Perhaps sleep is in order.”

Standing and stretching her tired muscles, Kael nodded. “I’ll hold you to that. Thanks for the story, Lao Ma.”

“Thank you for listening, Kael. May you have a pleasant evening.”

“And you as well. Goodnight.”

8 June 1991. Lao Ma’s Home. Chengdu, China.

Kael stepped from the bathing chamber, her skin still warm and tingling slightly from the vigorous scrubbing she’d given herself.

It was Saturday, the Pleasure House’s one day of rest for the women who had stayed up into the wee hours of the morning, pleasuring the men and women who had come to work off a hard week’s labors. The house was quiet in the golden minutes just after dawn. Kael padded silently through the massive structure on bare feet, the fine silk of her robes brushing softly against the floor to mark her passing.

She was heading toward Lao Ma’s private sitting room; the one place in the entire house where she felt most comfortable. As she moved, Kael thought back on the three weeks already spent in the remarkable woman’s gentle company.

The two women spent many evenings together after the business was closed down for the night. Lao Ma spoke candidly about her total devotion to the Tao and its principles. She spoke very little about herself, yet was warm, caring and compassionate, with a serenity about her that helped draw out a tiny sliver of peace lodged deep within Kael’s dark and shadowed soul.

The story of the original Lao Ma and her warrior-student was never spoken of again after that first night. Instead, the small Asian woman took up the mantel of mentor once again, gently opening Kael’s eyes to a new philosophy of the world.

Lao Ma taught Kael forms of meditation that the former soldier, well versed in such arts, had never considered. The techniques were welcomed, for they helped her ease her way out of the opium addiction she’d fallen back into. They also helped to impart some sense of stillness to the American’s always active mind, and for that, Kael was grateful.

Though the teachings of the Tao, with their emphasis on stillness and serenity, were as foreign to the American as anything could ever be, when seen through the eyes of a true devotee like Lao Ma, Kael couldn’t help but feel the smallest bit jealous over the woman’s seeming comfort with the world and her place in it.

For Kael, every day of life was a war, a struggle which pitted her unbending will against any foes who had the audacity to face her. She was born a soldier and likely would die one. She felt it her destiny, if such a thing could even be contemplated.

To accept, then, life on life’s terms was a concept she couldn’t begin to understand, except at the most basic of intellectual levels. How could it be possible to live life without expressing her will, her desire for things she wanted? It could simply not be done, not even with the bright promise of a world the Tao envisioned hanging over her head like a reward.

Still, Kael had, at some deep and unspoken level, come to treasure her evenings with the gentle woman who had taken her in, though she would probably never admit it to anyone but herself. If spending time with Lao Ma was like looking into the window of a world she could only dream of, then look she would, and be content with the view.

“I really am going soft,” she chuckled to herself as she rounded the last corner to her destination. She rounded the corner, and then stopped, her vision captured by one of the most beautiful sights she had ever seen.

Lao Ma, her hair unbound and luxurious, gently brushing against the curvature of her buttocks, stood at one of the long, narrow windows in her sitting room. A shaft of early morning sunlight lanced through the window, gilding the Asian woman in tones of purest gold. Her simple white robe took on a luminescent quality, and the sun brought out the bluish highlights in her night-black hair.

To Kael, Lao Ma didn’t look prosaic as a mere angel, but rather a goddess, bathed in the hues of her majesty. The American suddenly found herself physically aching with the need to become a part of that light, that majesty. She felt pulled to the vision as a magnet to a core of iron. Her feet carried her across the room, her eyes never wavering from what was before them.

If utter goodness had a physical form, surely this was it.

Stopping less than an arm’s length away, Kael reached out a slightly termoring hand and brushed the tips of her fingers against the shining radiance of Lao Ma’s flowing hair. Her hand tingled as if she were touching some great, but controlled, power source.

Lao Ma, who had known Kael was present from the moment the other woman had stopped before the threshold, felt the gentle, almost reverent, touch to her hair and turned, closing the distance between them to almost nothing.

Kael, too, was standing in the light. Her eyes fairly glowed from an internal heat Lao Ma couldn’t even begin to contemplate. The Asian tilted her chin up slightly, taking in the sun-gilded features of the striking woman standing so close to her. She is truly beauty incarnate.

Quite of its own volition, Lao Ma’s arm went up, the backs of her fingers gently brushing away a strand of hair that had laid itself across Kael’s marble-cut cheekbone. She smiled at the unconscious gasp of air which came from the lips of the taller woman.

“You are so beautiful,” Kael whispered, her eyes drawn to the pink-bow lips of her teacher. Still drawn, she lowered her head slowly, her hand sinking into the thick fall of Lao Ma’s hair to cup the skull beneath.

Their lips brushed lightly against one another, then melded seamlessly, tasting, touching, taunting.

Kael felt as if she had swallowed the sun. A riot of colors exploded behind her closed eyes, washing through her as if giving benediction for her sins.

For one brief and shining moment, she felt …clean.

Then her body caught up to her mind and she deepened the kiss, drawing her tongue against Lao Ma’s lips, which opened in invitation and drew her in to the warmth beyond.

Lao Ma responded primally to the kiss of the beautiful woman, tasting the heady flavor of her lips, taking the warm, exotic and thoroughly female scent of her deep into her lungs.

Desire arrowed through Lao Ma on eagle’s wings.

When she recognized it for what it was, she gently pulled away, gathering up Kael’s hands and kissing them softly, her face shining.

Stunned, Kael’s ice-blue eyes popped open and she stared dumbly down at Lao Ma.

“It is not yet time,” the other woman said, smiling.

Kael blinked. “But I …you … .” She sighed, shaking her head. Then she cleared her throat. “Did …did I do something wrong?”

“No, not at all.” Lao Ma’s smile broadened, her almond eyes twinkling. “It was wonderful. What I’d dreamed it would be.”

“You …thought about kissing me?”

“I have. But …not like this. It’s not time yet. We have much more to go through.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“As with all things, Kael,” Lao Ma replied gently, brushing their joined hands against her own cheek, “understanding will come to you when you are ready for it.” Then she smiled again. “But, it seems as if you’ve taken at least one of my lessons to heart.”

An eyebrow rose over one impossibly blue eye. “And which one was that?”

“When I pulled away, you did not attempt to follow. For that one brief moment, you did not try to bend something to your will. This is a good thing.”

For the American, standing in a puddle of her own raging hormones, it didn’t feel like a very good thing at all.

As if reading her mind, Lao Ma threw back her head and laughed gaily, enjoying the perplexed look on the beautiful woman’s face. “Come, my friend. Let us sit and talk awhile. I think we could both use some cooling off.”

Totally dumbfounded, Kael followed meekly behind her teacher, absently wondering where the real Kael Androstos had gone off to and if she was planning on coming back anytime soon.

To Be Continued…

DESERT STORM

Part 8

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. 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)

Lao Ma led the taller woman over to one of the chairs and eased her down into it. She pulled a second chair up close, and sat so that their knees were just brushing against one another. She smiled at the somewhat dazed expression of her companion, waiting for the sharp intelligence, accompanied by wary reserve, to shadow those remarkable features once again.

She wasn’t disappointed.

When Kael’s eyes sharpened and lasered into hers, Lao Ma smiled.

“For the last three weeks, you have been very patient with me. You have listened as I have talked on and on about subjects which I am sure held very little interest to you. For that, I thank you.” The small woman bowed her head briefly in appreciation, continuing to smile. “It occurs to me that you have not felt the need to ask very many questions of me. Do you have anything you would wish to ask?”

Kael was silent for several moments, pondering. She fingered her lower lip as she thought. Then she looked back up at Lao Ma, a slight, almost challenging, smile of her own on her face. “You seem to know, or presume you do, a good deal about me. Yet I find myself knowing very little about you.”

“What is it that you would like to know?” the Asian asked, shifting slightly on her chair to make herself more comfortable.

Lifting one long arm, Kael swept it the length and breadth of the room, encompassing everything. “It seems to me that a woman of your …special …talents is somewhat out of place in this type of venue.” Crossing her arms, she slouched back in her chair, eyeing Lao Ma with a look of cocky confidence. “So tell me, Lao Ma. What’s a woman like you doing in a place like this, hmmm?”

“That answer is a simple one. I belong to Ming Dao.”

Kael was out of her chair before she realized her feet had hit the floor, her motion nearly toppling Lao Ma from her own chair. The smaller woman made no attempt to defend herself, even as Kael grabbed the front of her robes and pulled Lao Ma up until just a breath of air separated their faces. Kael’s eyes were wild with feral intensity. Anger radiated from her in waves of dark energy. Lao Ma remained calm and serene, showing no fear whatsoever. The contrast between the two woman was intense.

“Bitch!” Kael snarled, shaking the smaller woman. “You betrayed me! You set me up! Pulling me in here and teaching me all that garbage about peace and serenity and freeing yourself of desire. You wanted me weak! You wanted me helpless so that your Master could take me without a fight. Well, you failed.”

Growling, the American pushed Lao Ma back into her chair. “You failed big time. If you think I’m gonna let myself get cornered like a rat in a maze, you and your Master have another thing coming.”

Spinning quickly, Kael stalked to the long window, peering out onto the sun-dappled grounds, her hand shading her eyes. A spy hid in every shadowed nook. Every moving branch from the surrounding trees was the barrel of an assassin’s rifle.

Taking several deep breaths, she calmed herself. Trees and shadows became harmless once again. Whirling from the window, she paced the length of the room, shooting glares at Lao Ma as she passed.

The other woman remained as imperturbable as ever.

Kael’s thoughts were a jumble of violent emotions and she struggled to get a fix on them as she paced.

Her body was on such a hair-trigger that she nearly sent Lao Ma through the wall when the later laid a gentle hand on Kael’s shoulder. “Kael,” Lao Ma said softly, “listen to me.”

Flinging the hand from her shoulder, the American spun quickly, pinning Lao Ma’s arms to her sides. “I’ve listened quite enough, thank you. In fact, that’s all I’ve been doing for the past twenty one days. Listening. Going soft while my enemies sat right under my nose. Laughing!” Releasing the smaller woman, she again spun away. “There’s gonna be laughter alright. But you won’t be the ones laughing when I get through with you.”

When the touch came again, it was anything but soft. Lao Ma used her implacable strength to grab Kael’s arm and hold on, not letting the struggling woman free. “If I wanted you dead,” she began, in that same calm voice, “I would have let Ming Dao and his dogs finish the job they’d started. I would have let you die on the street. I would never have brought you into my home, endangering the lives of the women who share it with me. If you believe nothing else, I ask that you believe this. I do not want you dead nor in the hands of Ming Dao and his thugs. Just because he owns my body does not mean he owns my spirit. Please allow me to explain this to you so that you may understand.”

Kael ceased her struggles, but her anger was still in high gear. “Start talkin’.”

“My father was addicted to heroin. Every bit of money he ever had went to Ming Dao’s brown powder. Soon, he had amassed quite a debt to the man. When I was thirteen, I was sold into indentured servitude for thirty years as partial payment for that debt. I had no choice in the matter. It was just the way of things.”

Kael said nothing, but Lao Ma could feel the American’s muscles begin to soften beneath her grip. She felt slightly encouraged, and so continued her tale, never loosening her grip.

“Six years ago, I became pregnant by Ming Dao. Nine months later, I gave birth to a son, who was named Ming Lao.”

The American stiffened again. “Ming Lao is your son? They said his mother was killed.”

“And, to all intents and purposes she was.”

“So, someone is lying. Cause you’re not dead.”

The other woman remained as imperturbable as ever.

Kael’s thoughts were a jumble of violent emotions and she struggled to get a fix on them as she paced.

Her body was on such a hair-trigger that she nearly sent Lao Ma through the wall when the later laid a gentle hand on Kael’s shoulder. “Kael,” Lao Ma said softly, “listen to me.”

Flinging the hand from her shoulder, the American spun quickly, pinning Lao Ma’s arms to her sides. “I’ve listened quite enough, thank you. In fact, that’s all I’ve been doing for the past twenty one days. Listening. Going soft while my enemies sat right under my nose. Laughing!” Releasing the smaller woman, she again spun away. “There’s gonna be laughter alright. But you won’t be the ones laughing when I get through with you.”

When the touch came again, it was anything but soft. Lao Ma used her implacable strength to grab Kael’s arm and hold on, not letting the struggling woman free. “If I wanted you dead,” she began, in that same calm voice, “I would have let Ming Dao and his dogs finish the job they’d started. I would have let you die on the street. I would never have brought you into my home, endangering the lives of the women who share it with me. If you believe nothing else, I ask that you believe this. I do not want you dead nor in the hands of Ming Dao and his thugs. Just because he owns my body does not mean he owns my spirit. Please allow me to explain this to you so that you may understand.”

Kael ceased her struggles, but her anger was still in high gear. “Start talkin’.”

“My father was addicted to heroin. Every bit of money he ever had went to Ming Dao’s brown powder. Soon, he had amassed quite a debt to the man. When I was thirteen, I was sold into indentured servitude for thirty years as partial payment for that debt. I had no choice in the matter. It was just the way of things.”

Kael said nothing, but Lao Ma could feel the American’s muscles begin to soften beneath her hand. She felt slightly encouraged, and so continued her tale, never loosening her grip.

“Six years ago, I became pregnant by Ming Dao. Nine months later, I gave birth to a son, who was named Ming Lao.”

The American stiffened again. “Ming Lao is your son? They said his mother was killed.”

“And, to all intents and purposes she was.”

“So, someone is lying. Cause you’re not dead.”

“Indeed I am not. Another young girl named Ling Li was sold into servitude at the same time as I. We became friends. We also became pregnant within a month of one another, and gave birth within hours. I, to Ming Lao, and Ling Li to a daughter she never got to name.”

“And why was that.” Kael’s voice was flat, without inflection, yet Lao Ma knew she was keenly listening.

“Girl children are not seen as gifts by Ming Dao. The infant was murdered within seconds of her birth. Ling Li lost her life shortly after that.”

“Why?”

“Female offspring hold no interest for Ming Dao. Every one of them has been killed after birth. I was the only one to produce a male heir. He dares not rid himself of me.”

“I’m afraid I still don’t understand. From what I can remember of biology, it’s the man, and not the woman, who produces the chromosomes that determine the sex of the child.”

“Ming Dao is a very superstitious man. He tried for many years to produce a son, but failed. Because of his success with me, he must keep me alive and healthy. If Ming Lao should die before he reaches maturity, Ming Dao will come back to me, demanding I produce another son for him.”

Kael snorted. “Just like that, huh.”

“Yes. Just like that.”

“And why did your friend have to die? Does Ming Dao murder all concubines who displease him by giving birth to daughters?”

Lao Ma laughed lightly. “I don’t think there would be two women left standing in all of China if that were so. No, Ming Dao employed a skill with which he is quite accomplished: deception. He killed Ling Li, telling everyone it was she who had given birth to his son and had died in childbirth. Myself, he kept alive and sent away so I would not be a ‘softening’ influence on his son.”

“’His son’?”

“Yes. I gave birth to the boy, and there will always be that bond, but he is being raised to be as monstrous as his father. Ming Lao is his father’s son.”

“And so he sent you here?”

“Yes. The Mistress of this house died suddenly and he sent me in to fill her place. It is his way of keeping me in his service while removing my influence over Ming Lao. And here I shall stay.”

“What happens if Ming Lao manages to live to take over his father’s position?”

“I will likely be executed.”

“You don’t sound as if that frightens you in the least, having a death sentence over your head.”

Lao Ma shrugged. “My life matters little in the Universe’s plan. After all, we all live beneath the sentence of death from the moment we draw our first breath.”

Kael relaxed. “Yeah, I suppose we do.”

The Asian woman released her grip on Kael’s arm. “So, as you can see, I have very little vested in the affairs of Ming Dao and his empire. I helped you escape from him and his men not to hand you back to him, but rather to free you from yourself. You are destined for greatness, Kael Androstos. You must simply find those seeds within yourself and allow them to blossom. I can only offer so much aid to you. It is something you must, ultimately, do for yourself.”

Kael turned slowly, looking deeply into the eyes of the woman before her. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“You don’t. Not with one hundred percent certainty. You must listen to what your heart says.”

The American laughed. “I don’t have a heart, Lao Ma.”

Reaching up, Lao Ma laid a tender hand on Kael’s cheek. “Yes you do. And it is bigger by far than you can imagine.”

Disbelieving, Kael shook her head.

“You have within you an immense capacity for hatred and anger. You are filled to the brim with it. Love and hate are two sides of the same coin. Where the capacity exists for one, the capacity exists for the other. Drain your hatred, subdue your will, and the understanding will come.”

“And you really believe this.”

“Yes.”

Kael dropped her eyes, looking down at the ground as she swallowed hard. “I only wish I could,” she said, a trace of hoarseness in her vibrant voice.

15 June 1991. Lao Ma’s Home. Chengdu, China

It was early morning when Lao Ma made her silent way to her sitting room to begin her daily meditations. She smiled as she crossed the threshold, seeing Kael sitting crosslegged on one of the mats, a copy of her ancestor’s Book of Wisdom laying open on her lap. Her mesmerizing blue eyes were closed and she appeared deep in meditation.

Those eyes opened as Lao Ma took a step back, intending to leave the other woman to her peace. Kael’s smile was open and beautiful, pulling Lao Ma back to the threshold. “Please,” she said softly, responding to the smile with one of her own, “continue with your reading. I did not mean to intrude.”

“You weren’t intruding at all. In fact, I’d welcome your presence. I have a few questions about what I’ve been reading.”

Gracefully accepting the invitation, Lao Ma let her feet carry her into the room, where she joined Kael on the mat, sitting and crossing her own legs beneath the silken fabric of her gown. “How might I be of assistance to you?”

Kael looked back down at the Book, pointing out a passage with one long, tapered finger. “Your ancestor was indeed a wise woman. I just wish she wrote in a way that could be easily understood by mere mortals like myself.” Her eyes twinkled.

“What about the passage troubles you?”

“It says here ‘To conquer others is to have power. To conquer yourself is to know the Way.’ What ‘Way’ is she talking about?”

“The Way of Serenity. Of Wisdom. Of being one with the Universe.”

“And how does someone conquer themselves? I’m not sure what she’s getting at here.”

“Humanity is driven by a will. To conquer yourself is to rise above that will. To let it no longer have an impact on your life.” Lao Ma smiled at Kael’s still slightly confused look. “A will is like a bolder that is loosed from the top of a mountain. It rolls down the slope, destroying all in its path. It does not stop until it either runs into something that is stronger than itself, more often than not destroying itself in the process, or until it no longer has the energy to destroy. If the bolder is simply removed at its source, the mountain’s summit, it cannot destroy, and life beneath it continues as it was meant to be.”

“So, it all goes back to getting rid of your will.”

“Exactly.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“The philosophy is easy. The practice is not.”

“Not even for you?”

Lao Ma’s face shone with compassion. “Not even for me.”

Kael sighed. “Well …I suppose it might be a little easier if I could see a practical application of this philosophy. You know, to make it more real to me.”

The older woman’s dark, almond eyes narrowed. “It occurs to me that you are mainly interested in whatever powers may come with this philosophy.”

The corner of Kael’s mouth curved upward. “I’d be lying if I said that your …special …powers don’t intrigue me. But, if what I’m hearing you say is true, I won’t be able to use them unless I follow your teachings. So, based on this, what harm can my knowledge cause?” Kael looked deceptively innocent, reminding Lao Ma again never to underestimate the powerful woman.

She thought quickly, carefully weighing the pros and cons, then sighed, coming to a decision. “Come with me.”

She didn’t miss the triumphant spark that lit Kael’s pale eyes as she jumped to her feet, all to willing to follow her mentor into this new stage of learning.

Same Day. Ming Dao’s Estate. Chengdu, China.

Geraldo stood in the waiting room of Ming Dao’s mansion, nervously pacing before the antiques that garishly decorated the place. He had been waiting for two hours for an audience with the drug lord, his heart beating more quickly with each passing moment until he was sure it would explode from his chest.

Finally, the door opened and a large bodyguard gestured for the Colombian to enter Ming Dao’s office. Geraldo found himself before the older man’s desk in short order, wiping his sweaty palms on his perfectly pressed slacks.

After a long moment, Ming Dao looked up from his work on the desk, his eyes magnified behind the thick lenses of his glasses. “You asked for a month, Mr. Rodriguez. I have given you that, and more. And yet that worthless whore continues to elude you. That is not what you promised me, Mr. Rodriguez. Not what you promised me at all.”

“She is here, Ming Dao,” Geraldo countered. “And I’m quite sure I know where she is hiding.”

The Asian’s eyebrows rose, giving him an almost comical appearance. “Then why is she not here, in this room? What games are you playing with me?”

“No games, Ming Dao,” Geraldo hastened to explain. “I assure you. It’s just that …she’s in the one place you won’t allow me to look.”

“And where might that be?”

“The whorehouse run by that woman you call Lao Ma. I don’t trust her. She’s hiding something, and I bet my empire that it’s Kael.”

Ming Dao smiled. “You must be very sure of yourself to make a bet like that, Mr. Rodriguez.”

“I am very sure.”

“Very well. I will give you another week. You may search the pleasure house at your leisure. If you can find your whore among all the others, I will honor my arrangement with you and you may sell my product in your country. If not,” Ming Dao’s smile became a shark’s leer, “your empire, and your life, become mine to do with as I wish. Do we have a deal, Mr. Rodriguez?”

“What will happen to Kael?”

“For kidnapping my son, her life is already forfeit. She belongs to me and is not part of the arrangement.”

After a moment, Geraldo nodded. “Alright, you’ve got a deal.”

“Very good. I will see you in exactly one week. Leave now.”

Bowing his head respectfully, Geraldo turned from the desk and was escorted from the mansion. As he slipped into the car and keyed the engine, he thought briefly of just going over to the whorehouse and grabbing Kael. But then he hesitated. Ming Dao had given him a week. He would make the old man sweat it out. Then he would retrieve what was his. Ming Dao would never have Kael. But he would find that out the hard way. Later.

A dark smile bloomed on his face as he pulled away from the walled estate. “This is going to be fun.”

Same Day. Lao Ma’s House. Chengdu, China.

Lao Ma led Kael to a large room that looked somewhat like a gymnasium. The walls and floors were padded, their coverings vivid with Chinese characters so that the entire room looked like one gigantic mural.

Off in one corner, a group of shelves stood, each bearing an assortment of clay pots, glass bottles, small carved figurines, rocks and other sundries. A small round table sat in front of a wide window which showed the vista of the sun-drenched city several stories below.

“Please choose an object from the shelves and place it on the table,” Lao Ma requested, coming to stand, relaxed, before said piece of furniture.

Kael did as she was asked, selecting a blown glass green fish and setting it on the table, before backing off a few paces, watching the older woman avidly.

Standing relaxed, her hands loosely by her sides, Lao Ma took in a deep, cleansing breath, then let it out slowly. She allowed that core of serenity always within her, a gift from her ancestor, to break its bounds and flow through her, filling everything within her. She focussed her eyes on the glass figurine.

It shattered.

“Holy shit!” Kael shouted, a wide, disbelieving grin on her face. “That was fantastic! Show me how you did that!”

Lao Ma laughed, taking in Kael’s child-like excitement and glowing eyes. At that moment, she sensed no malicious intent in the woman before her, but that wasn’t to say those feelings wouldn’t change in a heartbeat’s time. Some of your wisdom would be appreciated right now, Honored Ancestor. I can only hope that I am doing the right thing, teaching her these powers. Did you feel this way when you gave them to your Warrior Princess?

Swallowing her misgivings, Lao Ma gestured to the shelf. “Choose another object, then.”

Kael returned to the shelf and chose a delicate glass vase, flowers painstakingly painted around the barrel. She returned to the table, and after clearing the top of the glass fragments, set the vase carefully in the middle. “Ok. What’s next?”

Despite herself, the smaller woman couldn’t help smiling. “Next? Try to break it.”

Kael scowled. Then she stepped away from the table and relaxed her body in conscious imitation of her mentor. She stared at the vase, concentrating her mental effort, willing the glass to shatter as it had for Lao Ma.

It sat there, staring impudently at her, refusing to so much as tremble.

If vases could laugh, this one would be doing so.

Lao Ma, under no such constraints, laughed lightly, the sound muffled by her hand over her mouth.

Kael scowled again, gritting her teeth and clenching her fists. “What’s so funny,” she ground out.

“This exercise is about losing your will, Kael, not about using it as a battering ram.”

“Well what in the hell else am I supposed to do? Try a sneak attack??”

“Exactly!” Lao Ma exclaimed.

“Huh?”

“Kael, breaking the vase is not the goal for you.”

“It isn’t?”

“No. That is merely a side effect of sublimating your will and purifying your thoughts. It is the energy you need, not what it can destroy. The vase is just an object to let you know the energy is there.”

Kael rubbed her forehead, trying to take it all in. “So, in other words, the end point is the reception of the energy, not the destruction of the vase.”

The smaller woman’s smile broadened. “Perfectly stated.”

“And how do I get this energy? If the world is driven by a will, how do I lose mine?”

Walking over to join the tall American, Lao Ma laid a gentle hand on her arm. “Don’t try so hard. Here. Close your eyes.”

Kael closed her eyes, feeling the warm touch of Lao Ma’s small hand on her arm and smiling a bit. “What next?”

“Bring a vision into your mind, one, preferably non-violent, that makes you feel at peace with yourself. Do you have one of those?”

Kael frowned, but, surprisingly, the requested vision came easily. It was the beginning of her kiss with Lao Ma. At the moment when their lips touched and she felt energized …cleansed. It was, in her mind, the perfect moment. A slow smile spread her lips. “Yeah. I got one.”

“Good. Now, let that vision, and the feelings it evokes within, fill you, pushing everything else away. Become its vessel. Feel as it starts from the tips of your toes and travels through your body, filling you with that sense of peace. Can you do this?”

Nodding slightly, Kael concentrated on doing as she was asked, allowing the memory of that perfect kiss filter throughout her body, soothing her hurts, blunting her dark desires, curbing her will. It felt, almost, like a cocaine high, but without the chemical hangover. The energy she felt filling her up was intense, yet utterly pure and peaceful. “Yes,” she whispered, becoming a willing vessel to it.

“Open your eyes.”

Arctic blue eyes opened, gaze pinned, unconsciously, to the table.

The glass didn’t just shatter.

It exploded.

Billions of tiny fragments, the majority too small to be seen with the naked eye, blew outward from their source, only by some miracle missing the two women who where standing, utterly shocked, not three feet from the table.

“Did I just do that?” Kael asked, her voice full of wonder.

“Indeed you did,” Lao Ma returned, awed beyond belief. In all her years of studying and teaching, she had never seen a demonstration that even came close to the one she just witnessed. “What sort of vision would cause that much power?” she mused, hardly aware she was speaking aloud.

The American, however, with her highly sensitized hearing, caught every softly uttered word. “This,” she said simply, turning and tilting Lao Ma’s chin up, then lowering her own dark head until their lips once again met and merged.

The energy each woman had summoned was still within them both. It joined together through the power of their kiss, arcing back and forth in a never-ending loop, feeding in upon itself and growing stronger until it was all that existed.

The kiss deepened, each woman drawing within themselves the power of the other until it seemed one perfect being stood where two had been before.

Kael’s legs, which had pained her from the day they were shot out from under her in Iraq, straightened and grew strong again. Old hurts, swollen like abscesses in her soul, seemed to shrink and shrivel away to nothing. Things she’d done wrong, people she’d failed, people who’d failed her. All lost their importance when compared to this vast well of utter purity which was consuming her, cleansing her, healing her.

She opened her eyes and looked down into the surreal glow that was the face of the woman she realized she loved. Reaching slowly down, she untied the belt of Lao Ma’s robes, slipping warm hands inside to touch the silk of her skin.

And was lost; taken up in rapture the likes of which she’d never known.

To Be Continued…

DESERT STORM

Part 9

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. 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)

20 June 1991. Just before midnight. Lao Ma’s House. Chengdu, China.

Standing outside the red and gold painted door to the Pleasure House, Geraldo ran a nervous hand through his thick hair before straightening his tie. He groaned inwardly at his nervousness, feeling more like a teenager with his first woman than a fully grown man coming to get what was rightfully his.

That’s probably not the best way to think about this, he thought to himself, wiping sweaty palms on his dark pants. You’ll be lucky enough if she doesn’t kill you on sight. You betrayed her. She’ll never forgive that.

Because she acted foolishly! another part of him insisted. She almost ruined the deal. Would have, if you hadn’t turned her in.

Ruined deal or not, you found out, this last month, exactly what is more important to you. Face it, Geraldo, she’s right. You have gone soft. You are so in love with the woman that you almost went crazy not having her around all this time. The minute you see her, you’ll be down on your knees, begging for forgiveness.

Yeah, if she doesn’t kill you first.

That’s a very definite possibility.

His internal conversation, over for the moment, Geraldo took one last deep breath, feeling the surety of being between a rock and a hard place, and raised his hand to knock on the door before him, winging a quick prayer heavenward as he did so.

*******

Gasping for air and covered with a fine patina of sweat, Kael slumped back against the twisted silk sheets, one arm flung up and draped over her eyes. “That was,” she croaked out, ” …inspired.”

“And inspiring,” Lao Ma agreed, coming up to lay beside the beautiful woman who shared her bed. Pillowing her head on one broad shoulder, the smaller woman gently grazed her fingertips over the sweat-sheened skin as she breathed in the scent of their lovemaking with an almost primal pleasure.

“This ‘freeing yourself of desire’ stuff has got some merit,” Kael said, rolling over and enveloping Lao Ma in a warm embrace.

Lao Ma laughed softly, returning the embrace and nuzzling into Kael’s sweet smelling hair. “Not the usual way a true Master teaches this lesson, however.”

Kael’s eyes, still passion-dark, opened slowly. A rakish grin came over her face. “Don’t see why not. It’d pretty much guarantee your students came back for more.”

Any reply Lao Ma might have made was lost as a light tapping came to the door frame.

“Enter.”

A young woman, dressed and painted for the evening, entered the room, keeping her head bowed and her gaze on the floor. “Many pardons for the intrusion, Lao Ma, but there is a man downstairs asking to speak with you. He says that it is very important.”

Lao Ma could feel Kael’s body stiffen behind her. “Was he alone?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Did he give his name?”

“Yes, Ma’am. He said his name was Geraldo Rodriguez.”

The young woman drew back in fear as Kael launched herself from the bed, a soundless snarl on her lips.

“Kael! No!” Lao Ma shouted, also quickly standing.

“Stay out of this, Lao Ma. That bastard’s mine.” Not even bothering to slip a robe on over her naked body, Kael strode toward the door.

“Stop it, Kael! Stop desiring! Stop hating!”

The American whirled, her lips split in a shark’s sneer. “Pretty words, Lao Ma. But that miserable excuse for a scum-sucking pig betrayed me. There isn’t enough philosophy in the world that’s gonna stop me from paying him back.”

“And what will your revenge accomplish, Kael?”

“I’ll make me feel better,” Kael smirked, turning once again.

Her face white beneath the paint, the young messenger jumped out of the enraged American’s way.

Kael had gotten no more than two steps from the room when she was brought down by what felt like a cattle-prod to her spine. Her legs crumpled beneath her, refusing to bear her weight. She fell to the floor in a heap, quickly twisting to glare murderously at Lao Ma, who was standing very calmly beside her.

“You must stop this casting out for revenge, Kael. It will grant you nothing, save, perhaps, a very temporary respite. Or an ugly death.”

“Maybe that’s all I’m lookin’ for,” the American ground out, sitting up and rubbing at her tingling legs.

“If it is, then we have both wasted our time.”

Looking up, Kael caught the brief expression of disappointment as it darkened her mentor’s eyes. That look drained much of the anger from the taller woman’s body, replacing it with a sort of shame that made her shift uncomfortably on the floor at Lao Ma’s feet. “He betrayed me, Lao Ma!” she repeated, as if saying it yet again would convince the other woman of that simple fact.

Lao Ma nodded. “Of that, I am well aware. However, perhaps this time apart has given him a chance to think on his actions. Perhaps he has come here, hoping for a chance to apologize to you.”

Kael snorted. “Geraldo? Lao Ma, that man wouldn’t apologize to his own mother if someone was pulling his fingernails out by the roots.”

“People change,” the Asian replied simply.

“Not Geraldo.”

“Some would say that it would be easier for a mountain to shed tears of sadness than for Kael Androstos to feel anything other than anger. Is that also true?”

Kael looked at Lao Ma for a long moment, before dropping her eyes back to her still numb legs. “Not anymore,” she mumbled.

“Then perhaps others have it within themselves to change as well.”

“Damnit, Lao Ma! He’s not here to beg forgiveness! It’s a setup! Are you so blind to evil that you can’t see that? He’s nothing more than Ming’s puppy, sent in to do the dirty work. If he finds me here, all our lives are forfeit!”

“I am not nearly as blind to evil as you think, Kael. I am asking you to trust me to handle this. You trusted me to hide you from Ming Dao.”

“I didn’t have a choice then.”

“You have a choice now.” She looked down into the mesmerizing blue eyes. “Will you trust me?”

Kael looked up into the eyes of her teacher. Do I have it within me to trust again? Can it really be so easy as saying ‘yes’? Do I dare run the risk of being betrayed yet again? Can it really end here?

Pushing out all doubts and fears, half astounded at herself for doing so, she took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yes,” she said finally. “I’ll trust you.”

Lao Ma’s smile lit up more than her face as she reached down to help Kael from her place on the floor. “Thank you, Kael.”

The American shrugged off her grip. “Yeah, well just don’t take too long down there. I might get a little nervous, and you wouldn’t like me when I’m nervous.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Lao Ma replied as she reached for, slipped on, and belted her robe.

*******

Standing just inside the ornate entrance to the Pleasure Palace, Geraldo soothed his nerves by preening slightly before the gaggle of painted beauties who flirted shamelessly with him from their places inside the large sitting room just to the right of the entrance.

That the women were beauties there was no doubt. Exactly the type of nubile, young flesh he had feasted upon before a certain black haired, blue eyed she demon had come into his life, crippled and hooked through the nose on the fruits of his labors.

Geraldo, once, had prided himself on being his father’s son; a man who, it was said from within the shadowed depths of roadside cantinas, had more women than Colombia had cocoa plants. How he could have allowed one woman to capture him so completely—and so effortlessly—was beyond his capacity to guess.

The drug lord was snapped out of his thoughts by the sudden quiet in the house. His gaze was directed to the stairs, where the young messenger was gracefully returning, followed by a truly stunning woman, dressed in formal robes of rose and pink silk.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, the woman walked toward him with such dignity and grace that Geraldo found himself straightening his spine until it fairly crackled with ramrod straightness. He bowed his head in respect before he even realized he was doing so.

The woman smiled. “Welcome to my humble home. My name is Lao Ma. You wished to speak with me?”

“I am sorry for the intrusion, Lao Ma, but I must speak with you. It is very urgent,” Geraldo managed to get out. He could feel the woman’s eyes on him, calmly assessing, and he felt his nervousness return once again, full force, drying up all the moisture in his mouth.

“Very well,” she said after a moment. “Come with me.”

Breathing out a silent, but heartfelt, sigh of relief, Geraldo silently followed behind the woman as she led the way deeper into the building.

Lao Ma ushered Geraldo into her office, gently closing the door behind her. Gesturing to a chair, she continued around to the rear of her large desk and seated herself behind it, folding her hands on the pristine surface. “How may I be of assistance to you?”

“I am looking for a woman, an American, by the name of Kael Androstos. I have reason to believe that she is here, with you, in this place. I must see her.”

Placing her hands flat on the desk, Lao Ma made as if to stand up. “Than I am sorry, Mr. Rodriguez. You have wasted your time.”

Geraldo jumped to his feet. “Please! Wait! I must speak to her! It’s urgent!”

“And what is this urgency, that you must come here in the middle of the night?”

“It’s …difficult to explain,” Geraldo hedged.

“Then, again, you have wasted your time. I can be of no help to you.”

“Please, hear me out. I said it was difficult to explain, not that I wouldn’t explain it.”

Lao Ma looked at him, waiting.

Running a hand through his thick hair, Geraldo sighed. “I …made a deal with Ming Dao. Kael, in exchange for the chance to sell his ‘product’ overseas.” He dropped his eyes. “But I couldn’t go through with it. He gave me a month to find her, and tonight, my time is up.” Raising his eyes again, he looked beseechingly into the serene face of the woman sitting across from him. “Please, I must speak to her. I’ve managed to secure a way out of this country. For the both of us. If she doesn’t leave with me tonight, Ming Dao will surely find her and kill her.”

“And why don’t you just go through with your deal?” Lao Ma asked. “Surely it would be safer for you in the long run. More profitable, as well.”

“I … .” Geraldo’s voice trailed off as his machismo tried one last valiant stand against his heart. He took in a deep breath, his heart winning out. “Because I love her. Because my greed and my anger made me betray her. And because I want to make it right with her.”

Lao Ma looked carefully at Geraldo. His sincerity was rolling off of him in waves. It was obvious that he did love Kael, enough to risk his own life getting her to safety. But I love her as well, she thought, a small twinge of unaccustomed jealousy worming its way into her heart. She fought it down ruthlessly. Kael was not safe in China.

As Geraldo opened his own heart, Lao Ma shut hers down. “Come with me,” she said, simply.

The Latin walked behind the small woman, following her deeper into the voluminous confines of her home. Stepping through a narrow doorway, he stopped, frozen, as Lao Ma stepped aside and the vision of a naked Kael was presented him. His jaw dropped as his eyes took in the strong lines and supple curves of the woman he loved. Lust consumed him, once again drying his mouth.

“Hello, Geraldo,” Kael said, her aura oozing blatant sexuality. The corner of her mouth crooked up in a half-grin as she closed the distance between them, seeming to glide more than walk across the open space. “Didja miss me?”

Geraldo found that his voice had gone wherever his spit had disappeared to. Dumbly, he nodded.

Then the air rushed out of his lungs through the pinhole that had suddenly replaced his throat as a muscled thigh interposed itself between his slightly spread legs and pushed. Hard.

A half-breathed whimper and he was down on his knees, hands cupped—too late—over his genitals.

Coughing out a smirking laugh, Kael lifted her knee again, just as Geraldo was folding forward, connecting with his forehead and sending him sprawling on his back, wheezing.

Lao Ma stepped forward. “Kael … .”

“Stay out of this, Lao Ma,” Kael snarled, reaching down and pulling Geraldo up by the lapels of his suit jacket. “This is between me and the little puppy here.” She grinned into the man’s face. “Isn’t it, Geraldo.”

“Stop this, Kael,” Lao Ma ordered.

“Not a chance,” the tall woman said, grinning evilly. “It’s payback time.”

Releasing one of the lapels, Kael slapped Geraldo across the face, open handed. Then she slapped the other cheek, harder. The Latin’s eyes rolled back in his head as he slumped backward, only Kael’s strong grip keeping him on his feet.

“Pussy,” she spat, releasing him and watching as he dropped bonelessly to the floor. “Worthless piece of shit.”

“Kael, stop!!”

The American rounded on Lao Ma before a scream halted her in her tracks.

Gunfire echoed through the building.

More screams followed.

Completing her turn, Kael threw Lao Ma to the floor before squatting down and grabbing Geraldo’s Sig from its place at his back. “Now the real fun starts,” she purred, grinning darkly, wildly.

More screams, followed by the sound of quickly running footsteps, coming closer.

“Don’t do this, Kael,” Lao Ma warned.

“Just stay outta my way.”

Lao Ma stood her ground as the footsteps came ever closer. Kael raised the weapon, aiming for the doorway. Two men came into view, their faces blank tableaus, upon which murder was ready to be written in blood.

Kael squeezed the trigger and the men fell to the floor, to be replaced quickly by two more. One of the men managed to get off a shot before his head exploded in a fountain of blood.

His partner was smarter, using the dead body as a shield. Pushing the corpse into the room, he waited until the American woman ducked out of the way, then fired.

Kael felt the sting of a bullet as it whizzed by her ear, missing her by a hairsbreadth, at most. Her grin widened. “You couldn’t hit the Great Wall, four eyes,” she taunted, before ending his life with a perfect shot to the heart. The man fell soundlessly, his weapon clattering to the floor.

Three more men advanced, spraying automatic weapons’ fire into the room, chewing through the walls and artwork that had stood in the once pristine room.

Kael managed to get the first two and was drawing a bead on the third, when her wrist was creased by a bullet, causing her arm to go numb. Her next shots went wide of their mark, allowing the third man, followed by a forth, and a fifth, to enter the room, their expressions grim.

The American tried to fire her weapon, but her hand wouldn’t work. She backed up slowly, eyes frantically searching for an escape.

Ming Dao entered at the end of the parade of armed muscle, his seamed face further creased in a mocking smile. “So, Ms. Androstos, we meet again. I had hoped to make your death a little more …painful …but you’ve cost me too many of my men already. The hunt has been fun, but I’m afraid it is time to say goodbye to the prey. Do you have any last words?”

Kael bared her teeth. “Eat shit.”

The drug lord threw back his head and laughed, gesturing for one of his men to finish the job.

He was dead before he’d even stopped laughing. The bodies of his remaining guards quickly joined him on the blood-pooled floor.

Her eyes wide with shock, Kael whirled to face a barely standing Geraldo, his weapon clasped loosely in one limp hand.

“I couldn’t let them kill you,” he gasped, slowly straightening as some color came back to his cheeks.

Kael looked at him for a moment, before turning her head to track down Lao Ma. “You can come out now,” she called. “The bad guys are all gone.”

When there was no answer, Kael dropped her gun and ran behind the bed where Lao Ma was sprawled, face down. Gasping, the tall woman squatted, turning the body over. “No,” she half-sobbed, taking in the shredded and blood soaked gown. “No! Lao Ma! No!!”

Panic stricken, she shook Lao Ma’s unresponsive body, then blindly reached for a pulse.

There was none. Lao Ma’s flesh was already growing chill.

“NO!” Kael screamed, gathering the dead woman into a tight embrace, burying her face in her mentor’s thick hair. “No!!!”

Sirens pierced the now-still air.

Geraldo limped painfully over to where Kael sat rocking Lao Ma in a fevered grip. “Help her,” his lover begged, her eyes sparkling with tears. “Please. I can’t lose her.”

“We need to go,” he said tightly, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. “The police are coming. We’ll be stuck here forever if they find us.”

“Help her, damn you!!”

“It’s too late! Kael, please! We have to go! Now!!”

“No! I won’t leave her!”

“You have to! I’ve gotten us passage out of the country. We must leave, Kael! We must!!”

“No. I won’t leave.” Looking down, Kael gently wiped a strand of hair clinging to Lao Ma’s full lips. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, sobbing. “Lao Ma, I’m so, so sorry. Please, come back to me. Please.”

The sirens came closer. Squealing tires were heard as the cars skid to a stop on the wet pavement outside the establishment.

“There’s no more time, Kael,” Geraldo warned, grasping her arm and trying to pull her to her feet.

“Leave me alone, damnit!”

“I can’t! I won’t! Lao Ma is dead, Kael. There’s nothing more you can do for her. “We need to get away. Now!”

Kael looked from the dark man to the dead woman, listening as the sounds of car doors slamming and men yelling penetrated the thick walls of Lao Ma’s home. She bowed her head, placing a last, tender kiss on the woman’s soft brow. “You’ll always be a part of me, Lao Ma,” she whispered, stroking the long, jet hair for the last time.

Slowly, her eyes hardened to arctic ice. She released Lao Ma, then stood.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here.”

END OF SECTION TWO

DESERT STORM

Part 10

by: SwordnQuill

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. 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)

PART THREE: Adventures in the Death Trade

“Help me. And I will make you Destroyer of Nations.” Alti: Adventures in the Sin Trade

23 December 1991 Rodriguez Compound Medellin, Colombia

With only two days to go before Christmas, Medellin was ablaze in the colors of the season. Churches, storefronts and houses all displayed their finery in preparation for the holiday’s celebration.

Within the heavily walled confines of the Rodriguez compound, however, the air was more funerary than festive. The bedroom, in particular, had taken on the look of a dismal cavern. Heavy curtains masked the large windows, blocking out the bright Colombian sun. In the fireplace, a cheerless fire blazed, the flames’ light reaching out and turning a glass of Cabernet sitting on the table the color of freshly spilled blood.

Kael sat slumped in a chair facing the fireplace, staring blindly into the flames as if trying to divine the meaning of her existence from the shifting patterns of light and shadow.

Just outside the doorway, Geraldo stood, watching Kael watch the fire, uneasy down to his very soul. She had been like this for months, now; ever since the harrowing escape from China. Lao Ma’s death seemed to have extinguished whatever tiny bit of light had dared to live within her. This new Kael was more cruel, more ruthless, more utterly heartless than ever before. It was as if causing pain, anguish and death was the only thing keeping her own demons at bay.

When she wasn’t on some killing spree, Kael sequestered herself in the bedroom, staring blindly at nothing for long hours. She hardly spoke at all anymore, except for a few tersely voiced commands which she issued to friends and enemies alike.

Her soul seemed a dead and rotting thing.

But still, for all that, Geraldo found himself still desperately in love with the woman. His heart was a traitorous thing, not even his own anymore.

“Stop staring at me before I take your eyes out with this poker,” Kael spat out without ever turning her head from the fire.

Biting back a sigh, Geraldo stepped fully into the room, closing the distance between them in several long strides. Careful to stay out of touching distance, something the woman, of late, detested except for those times when the lust of killing led her to take him to their bed and wear out his mind and body with the heat of her blazing passion, Geraldo looked down at Kael’s bowed head. “I’m due at a meeting shortly. I would like it if you would join me,” he said quietly.

Kael slowly turned her cold, dead eyes toward him. Her lip curled slightly. “Does this ‘meeting’ involve bloodshed?”

“No.”

“Then get the fuck outta here. I’m not interested.” She turned back to the fire.

“You’re never interested in anything anymore! Except killing.”

Kael snorted. “Smart boy you are, Einstein. It took you this long to figure that out?”

“Kael, please. Diego Cordova has asked to meet with us. I think it would be interesting to see what he has to say.”

“The only thing interesting about Diego Cordova is how high he’ll scream when I pull his balls out by the roots.”

“He has important connections in Indonesia. It might be valuable to us to form an alliance with him.”

The dark head shook. “That’s all you’re good for anymore, Geraldo. Talk. Where’s the man who used to have the jewels to rip the hearts out of assholes like Cordova, huh? That useless piece of shit is so far beneath you that he’d have to look up to see the soles of your shoes, and yet you want to talk to him. Form an alliance with him.” She threw up her hands in disgust, still staring into the fire. “You’re a weak, pathetic excuse for a man, Geraldo. A spineless jellyfish is what you’ve become. You make me sick.”

“Kael … .” Anything further Geraldo might have said was interrupted by the chiming of the door. The jaunty tune trailed off to silence, only to start up again, bare seconds later. And then again.

Kael snapped her head around, her eyes narrow and murderous. “Where the fuck is the hired help, Geraldo? Packed off to their little families to spread some Christmas cheer?”

The look on Geraldo’s face was all the answer she needed. She blew out a disgusted breath and rose from her chair as the door chime rang yet again.

“I’ll get it,” Geraldo offered.

Kael smirked, patting his face as she passed by. “No, that’s alright. I wouldn’t want you to strain yourself, little man. Just relax and rest up for that great meeting of the minds you’re gonna have.”

Leaving Geraldo to stand impotently in the darkened bedroom, Kael made her way down the winding staircase, her ire ratcheting up another notch each time the doorbell rang. She found herself wishing the caller was a religious fundamentalist hoping to teach her the error of her heathen ways. She would have fun teaching them the true meaning of the word ‘righteous’.

Coming to the bottom of the stairs, she crossed the floor quickly, then grasped the door handle, yanking the door open savagely, rage painting her face in harsh tones.

Kael, whose unusual height made it rare for her to have to look up into the eyes of anyone, especially another woman, found herself doing just that as she froze in mid snarl. The woman facing her topped her by a good two inches and was, to put it simply, gorgeous. She was tall and sleek, her curves absolutely dangerous. Her hair was a gentle brown, long, and soft-looking as it was drawn away from the striking features of her face. Her lips were a bit too misshapen, her cheeks a little too sharp to give her a classic beauty, but her deep caramel eyes, accented by heavy eyeliner, more than made up for it, in Kael’s book. And that body … . “What do you want?” she asked finally, in a tone far less harsh than she had at first intended.

The woman cocked her head, her entire essence rippling with barely repressed sensuality. She smiled. “You.” Her voice was low and whispery, with a whiskey and cigarettes hoarseness that made Kael’s already surging hormones stand up and take gleeful notice.

“Me, huh?” Kael made a show of eyeing the entire package, slowly, lewdly.

The grin broadened. One long, slender finger drew itself down the middle of Kael’s broad chest. “Oh, yes,” the woman purred. “We’ll have a lot of fun together, you and I.” The finger dipped into the waistband of Kael’s slacks, tugging slightly. “More fun than you ever dreamed.”

Kael’s eyes narrowed as a dark smile bloomed on her face. “So, you know what’s in my dreams, do you?”

“Oh yes,” the woman said again, her finger now trailing along Kael’s strong jawbone. “Full of such delicious imagery. Rage. Death. Fear. A veritable feeding ground for the senses.”

Cobra-quick, Kael reached up and snatched the stranger’s hand away from her face. Their eyes met and locked, each soul feeding off the palpable darkness in the other.

They might have stood that way forever, locked in an unending feedback loop of mutual rage, had Geraldo not chosen just that moment to make his presence felt behind Kael.

“You’re beginning to irritate me, Geraldo,” the American growled, still looking at the strange woman who had captured her interest. “And I really don’t think you wanna go there right now.”

Taking a chance, Geraldo put his hand on Kael’s shoulder and squeezed. “I need to talk with you,” he whispered in her ear.

“So talk,” Kael replied, managing only by the smallest of margins to keep from turning and ripping his face off.

“Not here. Inside. Alone.”

The other woman smiled, gently disengaging her grip from the beautiful American’s. “Talk to your friend. I’ll wait right here.”

“You do that.” Grabbing Geraldo’s hand, she flung it off her shoulder and turned, pushing him back into the house and closing the door behind her. “Spit it out,” she demanded.

“Do you know that woman?”

A corner of Kael’s mouth crooked up. “No. We haven’t been properly introduced. Yet.”

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep it that way. She is nothing but trouble.”

Kael’s grin broadened. “Well, you know how much I like trouble.”

“Not her kind. She’s a Santeria priestess. A very dark and dangerous one. She is responsible for the destruction of the Villa family. She made them believe that they were invisible to the police and that bullets couldn’t hurt them. The police came and killed them in their beds.”

Kael snorted. “They deserved it for being such idiots, then.”

“She is evil, Kael. Her words are all lies, but she has the power to make you believe them. I forbid you to let her come into this house.”

Ice blue eyes narrowed dangerously. “You …forbid… me?”

Geraldo stood his ground. “Yes. I will not have that woman in this house, corrupting it. Corrupting you. I love you, Kael. Shouldn’t that count for something?”

“Not with me, it doesn’t. Love makes you weak. It makes you soft. Just like you’ve become, Geraldo. Worthless. So just go to your stupid meetings and hash out your stupid deals and let me take care of my own business, hmmm?”

Frustrated beyond all good sense, the Latin man lifted his arm, his eyes flashing his anger at the impudent American.

“Lay one finger on me, and I’ll make sure you never touch another living thing again, Geraldo.”

His teeth clenched, Geraldo curled his hand into a fist and stood there, his entire body trembling with the need to lash out at something …anything, just to release the building frustration. The woman who had gone to China with him had died somewhere along the way. In her place, a stranger stood. A stranger who Geraldo both loved and loathed. That he feared her was beyond question. That he was scared for her was likewise true. He felt lost in a way that was foreign to him, and that made him angry, bitter, and frustrated beyond all good sense.

Angered past the ability to make a rational decision, Geraldo allowed his fist to swing down, intending to, if nothing else, get in one good blow before Kael could think to block and retaliate.

Kael saw it coming, and backed her head out of the way, allowing Geraldo’s arm to move past her before using the opening his wild swing left to lift her own arms and, fingers extended, jab at the pulse-points in his neck.

Geraldo collapsed to his knees as the fight left his body.

Kael squatted down in front of her dark lover, sneering. “I’ve just cut off the flow of blood to that thing you call a brain. Any last requests?”

The Latin felt a warm trickle as a thin stream of blood left one nostril to pool at his upper lip. “Please,” he gasped.

“Please what?”

He gasped, choking on the blood seeping into his mouth.

“Speak up, Geraldo. Can’t hear you when you mumble, ya know.”

“Please,” he whispered again. “Don’t … .”

“Don’t what? Don’t defend myself when you go after me like a rabid dog? Don’t demand my right to have anyone in this house that I please? What? Help me out here.” She grinned darkly. “And I’d suggest you do it quickly. Your time’s just about up.”

“Don’t …kill me … .”

“Don’t kill ya, huh? Well, that might be arranged.” She cocked her head, smiling coyly. “What’s in it for me? I like to know what my options are before making a decision of such magnitude, ya know.”

“Anything!!”

Lashing out, Kael reversed the nerve block, her teeth bared in an obscene parody of a genuine smile. “See? I knew there was a reason I kept ya around.”

She grabbed him by the lapels of his dark suit and pulled him to his feet, reaching out and snatching the pristine white handkerchief from his breast pocket as she did so. She put the handkerchief up against his nose, then reached down and grabbed his hand, replacing it on the bloody square of cloth. “Keep the pressure on for a minute or two. We’ll talk about the terms of your surrender later.” Brushing his jacket of imaginary lint, she turned and headed back toward the front door and her date with the intriguing stranger waiting just outside.

Opening the door, Kael leaned casually against the doorjamb, crossing her arms, and legs at the ankles. “You’re still here.”

“As promised,” the woman replied, inclining her head slightly.

“Please. Come in.”

Smiling seductively, the stranger oozed her long body past Kael, trailing a finger across the other woman’s abdomen as she did so.

Breathing deep and grinning to herself, Kael pushed herself off the jamb and followed her guest inside, closing the door softly behind her. “Make yourself comfortable,” she said, one long arm gesturing to the over-stuffed chairs occupying the huge living room. “Would you like something to drink?”

The woman’s grin deepened into a frank leer. “What are you offering?” she purred.

Kael’s eyebrow rose to hide beneath her bangs. “Cocktails. For now.”

The stranger matched her expression. “Then I’ll pass. For now.”

The American poured herself a scotch, neat, and swirled the liquid around in the crystal glass absently before taking a sip and feeling the pleasant burn of the alcohol as it washed down her throat. Walking across the room, she gracefully lowered herself onto the couch next to the other woman and took another sip. “Kael. Androstos,” she said finally, drinking in the woman’s beauty.

“I know. A powerful name for a powerful woman.”

Kael waited in silence.

“My name is Ianna.”

“Very beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“I hear you’re a practitioner of Santeria.”

Ianna’s smile broadened. “Oh yes. Such wonderful power in the religion.”

Kael smirked. “Power, huh? Seems to me that you’ve got to be a bit of a charlatan to make people believe they’re invisible. And invincible.”

“No more so than having people believe that you can shatter a bottle with the strength of your mind.” There was a mad, knowing sparkle in Ianna’s dark eyes.

Kael jumped from her chair, her teeth bared. “How do you know … .”

“About your …mentor …Lao Ma?” Ianna asked, unperturbed. “Do you really think she is—or was—the only person on the planet with the power to see into the hearts of others?”

“Don’t you ever speak her name to me again,” Kael growled, grabbing Ianna by the neck and squeezing off her air.

The other woman seemed totally unaffected by the violent display. “And why not? The woman is dead, Kael. But her power, that incredible, wonderful, delicious power, lives on in you. It’s just a matter of using it the right way.” Incredibly, the strangling woman curved her hand around Kael’s taut waist, pulling her dark captor ever closer. “Tap into the darkness in your soul, Kael. Tap into the blackness that fuels your dreams. Feed on it like a starving man at a banquet. Use that anger and hatred that lays claim to you. Use it and feel your true power.”

Ianna’s words were hypnotic, their lulling tone calling to the beast coiled within Kael; summoning it out to play. Her eyes darkened to a deep indigo as a feral smile spread wide her full lips, her teeth gleaming in the firelit shadows. Her hand still wrapped, white knuckled, around Ianna’s neck, she brought her head down and kissed the woman with crushing force, drawing blood with the first blow.

Ianna growled deep in her throat. Kael matched it, shifting her hand from the other woman’s neck to her jaw and prying her mouth open. Her tongue entered strongly, harshly conquering unmapped territory as her other hand went downward, kneading Ianna’s firm breast through the soft cotton of her T-shirt.

With a final bite to kiss-swollen lips, Kael pulled away and downed the last of her scotch in one gulp, leaving Ianna panting and slightly dazed. “That powerful enough for ya?” she asked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Ianna swallowed hard, slowly regaining her equilibrium after the devastating attack on her senses. “Oh yes. It was perfect.”

“Good. Then get out.”

Smiling, Ianna slowly came to her feet, reaching into the back pocket of her jeans and retrieving a business card. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing one another again,” she said, laying the card face down on the glass table fronting the couch. “Soon.”

“Don’t count on it.”

“Oh, but I am. Our darkness draws us to one another, Kael. Alone, we’re formidable. Together … together, we’ll be destroyers.”

Fingers of a long, elegant hand flicked, a casting off. “Whatever,” came the dark voice. “Just get out of here. Now.”

“Very well,” Ianna purred, smiling as she crossed the floor. “Until we meet again.” The smirk still on her lips, she opened the door and slipped from the home.

DESERT STORM

Part 11

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. 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)

21 January 1992 Rodriguez Compound Medellin, Colombia

What the winter holidays lacked gaiety, they more than made up for in brutality. Back from Indonesia, Geraldo walked in on a Kael that seemed but one step away from utter madness. This time, alcohol had become her drug of choice, and empty bottles littered the house. The staff had long since abandoned the crazed woman, too frightened to set foot in the huge house without Geraldo there to act as somewhat of a buffer.

Following the trail of discarded clothes and empty bottles, Geraldo had walked up to the master bedroom, where his senses were almost overwhelmed with the scent of alcohol and stale sweat. Kael sat before the fireplace, guzzling yet another bottle of liquor, rocking back and forth as she did so.

She had been totally unkempt, this shadow of his lover, her hair greasy and matted, her clothes stained and wrinkled, as if she’d slept in them for many nights running.

Dead drunk she might have been, but Geraldo had to perform an almost balletic move to evade the bottle thrown at his head with deadly accuracy. “Leave me the fuck alone,” she had snarled.

Jetlagged from the trip and heart-sore from the vision before him, Geraldo did what he did best, these days. He capitulated. Again.

*******

Kael stood in the middle of her room—and it was her room now, Geraldo having taken up residence in another of the bedrooms after his return from his Indonesia trip—half drunk, yet clean, staring down at an empty liquor bottle sitting somewhere near the middle of the teak cocktail table near the fireplace.

Rubbing her hands together, she took in a deep breath and let it out, then rolled her head around, cracking the vertebrae and relieving some of the stress in her neck. “C’mon, Kael,” she whispered, her breathed words unheard above the crackle and hiss of the fire as it burned, “you can do this. You’re an empty vessel, remember? An empty vessel.”

Clearing her drunken thoughts was a process doomed from the start, but Kael was nothing if not mule-stubborn. She tried to fill her mind with the image of the kiss she and Lao Ma had shared in that long ago time, but Ianna’s face and form seemed to always interfere, despite Kael’s best efforts to erase the dark witch from her thoughts.

She opened her eyes, but the damned bottle refused to budge from its spot on the table.

She tried harder.

And harder.

But it was useless.

Her face screwing up in a predator’s snarl, she lashed out with her foot, sending the glass bottle to shatter against the stone of the fireplace, the shards glittering like misplaced diamonds as they landed on the hearthrug.

“God damned mother-fucking son of a goddamn bitch!” The table was the next to fall, splintered into kindling by a well placed kick.

More bottles flew, smashing against the floor and walls, testifying to Kael’s rage with musical tinkles of shattering glass. “Lao Ma! How could you leave me?!? How could you do this to me?”

The mattress and bedding weren’t spared their own share of their owner’s anger, nor were the works of priceless, and not so priceless, art that adorned the walls of the large room.

Spitting obscenities and saliva in equal measures, Kael became a whirlwind of destruction, using her fists, head and feet to punch plate-sized holes through the room’s drywall. Plaster dust settled over the floor and destroyed furniture in drifts like a cocaine addict’s greatest fantasy come to life in white powder.

From his place in the study a floor below, Geraldo heard the tantrum from its inception. As they had become more and more frequent in the passing weeks, he ignored the noises from above as best he could until the sounds of breaking walls caused him to jump up from his chair and bolt from the room, his feet pounding into the thick carpeting as he navigated the stairs, four at a time.

What he saw, this scene from a poorly-made horror flick, wasn’t human. Kael’s clear blue eyes were dead as a corpse’s, lacking even the spark of rage that her body held as its very own.

Swallowing back his fright, he launched himself into the fray, sending up a quick prayer to the Blessed Virgin as he did so.

Kael heard him enter and stopped her deconstruction of the walls. She turned, her long fingers hooked into eagle’s talons and flexing …flexing …waiting to sink into his flesh and feast on it in an orgy of blood and death. Her face was a grinning death’s head mask, full lips pulled back from gleaming teeth in a wordless snarl, gums glistening and pink against the whiteness of her canines. “C’mere, little puppy,” she taunted, seeming not even to recognize him. “Let’s play.”

“Stop this, Kael. Now.”

Cocking her head to the side, Kael allowed her lips to curl into an exaggerated pout. “What’s the matter, Geraldo? Don’t wanna play with me anymore? You used to love to play with me. Remember?” Her hands relaxed, then came up, caressing her own breasts, pulling at her nipples and jutting out her hips in wanton seduction.

“Enough! Damn it, Kael, that’s enough!”

“Can’t get it up anymore, little man? Pity.”

“Stop it! You need help, Kael. And you’re going to get it. Starting now. I’ve been much too lax with you, but that ends here. I’ll give you a choice. You can come with me willingly, or I’ll drag you to a hospital myself.”

Kael sneered, dropping her hands from her breasts. “I don’t like either of your choices, Geraldo. Pick another,” she purred, beginning to stalk him. “One we’ll both enjoy.”

Geraldo retreated with each step Kael advanced, until his back his hit a desiccated wall. “No. I won’t fall into your trap anymore. I love you and I’m going to do right by you. You need help and I’m going to make sure you get it, willingly or not.”

“A eunuch can’t grow back his balls, my dear. You lost yours the day I met ya.”

Seeing his chance, he lunged at her. Kael twisted away at the last second, retreating back toward the center of the room, grinning wildly. “Ohhhh, so you do wanna play. I like this game.”

Geraldo made another attempt, but Kael dodged his advance, giggling in a high-pitched, almost girlish voice.

“Come and get me, little man.”

In an attempt filled with desperation, Geraldo managed to snare one of Kael’s thick wrists, a stroke of blind luck allowing him to twist it up behind her back, disabling her temporarily. Kael shrieked like a trapped cat, hissing and twisting as she tried to buck him away.

“Listen to me, Kael,” he said soothingly, his lips brushing against the softness of her ear, “you don’t have to live like this. Whatever’s going on can be fixed. Let me help you. I love you. Let me help you.”

Trapped within his strong grasp, Kael allowed her body to relax slightly, lulling him, making him believe she was actually listening to his pathetic drivel. When she felt his hold loosen minutely, she quickly reached out toward the remains of the couch, snagging one of the few unbroken whiskey bottles and shattering it on the chair’s arm, holding the jagged remainder by the neck.

Before Geraldo could even think to react, she brought the bottle to her side, slicing the arm that held her.

Hissing in pain, Geraldo drew away, clasping the bleeding wound, his eyes shooting daggers at the now-free woman. “You don’t want to do this, Kael. Give me the bottle.”

“Like hell I will,” she replied, slashing at the air just inches from his face. His hands flew up to protect the delicate skin as he backed away quickly. “You just made a very big mistake, Geraldo. A very big mistake.”

Fear curling deep in the pit of his belly, Geraldo fought to keep his breathing under control as his wide eyes followed Kael’s every movement. Her twisting, slashing form was hypnotic as a cobra’s and he prepared himself for her deadly strike. “Put the bottle down, Kael,” he tried again. “Let’s talk about this.”

“The time for talking’s over, little man. It’s been over for quite awhile now. Now’s the time for action.”

With blinding speed, the cobra struck.

Geraldo screamed as he felt the jagged glass plow a furrow into his cheek, narrowly missing his eye and continuing down until his jaw shunted the weapon away from his face. Blood sheeted from the gaping wound, covering both man and woman as Geraldo’s hands instinctively went up to clamp down on the tear in his face.

Kael grinned in satisfaction, but managed to quell the almost overwhelming impulse she had to stick the shattered bottle into his unprotected middle and twist until she could feel his spine stop her forward momentum.

Most of her wanted to just finish the job, but the tiny part that still held the last tattered shreds of her sanity was the stronger of the two, and so Kael pulled away, turning and stalking from the room, the remains of the bottle still clamped in one blood-slick hand.

She strode down the stairs and into the kitchen, leaving a trail of gore to mark her passage through the house. The maid, only recently talked into resuming her duties—albeit with a significant financial incentive thrown in to sweeten the pot—took one look at the blood-covered, armed and half crazy Mistress of the house, screamed, and promptly fainted onto the cool terracotta tiles of the kitchen floor.

Her blue eyes wild, Kael laughed at the sight and threw her makeshift weapon down on the floor, the remaining glass shattering and providing a grizzly halo to the downed woman as it sparkled across the tiles around her fallen head.

Walking out of the front door, she cut left and stalked over to the huge garage housing their myriad of vehicles slipping quietly inside its cool, darkened confines. Closing the door behind her, she leaned against one wall for a moment, allowing her heartrate to slow as she inhaled a mixture of motor oil and car wax. The scents helped soothe her. A little.

Sighing, she pushed away from the wall, somewhat irked by the blood that was slowly drying to a sticky crust on her bare arms. Walking over to one of the recessed cabinets, she quickly tapped in the security code, opened the door and pulled out a set of keys.

Then she padded over to the sleek, shiny little speed demon with an engine bigger than the interior, and slipped inside the leathered comfort, cranking up the engine in a satisfying howl of horses and filling the garage with the stink of smoking tires as she backed out of the open garage.

Shoving the car into gear, she executed a precise one-hundred-eighty-degree turn and headed toward the barred gate of the compound, baring her teeth at the frightened looks the heavily armed guards were throwing her way.

Trying to hold his face together, Geraldo ran out into the yard, followed closely behind by the now recovered and screaming housekeeper who was waving a blood-stained towel in her hand and running as quickly as her thick legs could carry her.

“Open the gates!” the drug lord screamed at his guards, well knowing that Kael would simply ram them down if given half a chance. “Then someone follow her! Don’t let lose her or I’ll have your heads! Do you understand me?!?”

Something, either the sight of their gore-covered boss screaming obscenities at them, or the sight of a shiny black demon-car bearing down on them, made the guards’ decisions for them and one ran to open the gate while the other jumped into the Range Rover parked by the guard-shack just outside the fence.

Kael shot out through the ever widening gap in the fence, more than a bit disappointed that she didn’t get the chance to ram the damn gate down, even more so with the fact that in her hurry she’d managed to miss the little pissant who was cranking the damn thing open while looking at her through white eyes half the size of dinner plates.

She jarred the wheel sharply to the left and the car took the turn on two wheels, shooting onto the street and missing a broadside collision with an oncoming bread truck by the width of a hair. The bread truck then did what Kael wished she could have done, taking out both gate and guard in one fell swoop of screeching brakes, squealing metal, and screaming human. The Range Rover finished the job, plowing headlong into the bread truck and smashing the guard flat against the gate post.

The screams mercifully stopped.

Cackling in triumph, Kael downshifted and sped out toward the milling city, a gore-coated specter whose sanity, what there was of it, cowered in a corner of her dark and empty soul.

*******

Forty five minutes later, she found herself on the very outskirts of Medellin, driving along a twisting road she’d never been on before, having no idea how she’d gotten there, and gripping the twisted remains of a blood-sodden business card tightly in one hand.

Too puzzled over her apparent blackout to be frightened, she pulled off to the side of the empty road and looked down at the card again, trying to decipher the fine script through the coating of damp blood obscuring it.

Ianna Velasquez de la Cruz

Seer

The address was a bit harder to read, but by placing it within the map she carried inside her head, Kael figured she was pretty close to the ‘seer’s’ home, even though she honestly couldn’t remember having made the conscious decision to drive out that way.

“Alright, witch,” she whispered. “Time to find out what’s going on here.”

She eased the car back onto the street, the sound of her tires crunching over gravel the only thing that could be heard this far out into the country. A short while later, a white, adobe-style house loomed over the cresting hill, sitting on land that was almost entirely barren; a definite rarity for an area where jungle was a fact of life. A smaller building, also white, sat off to one side, its doors and windows tightly shuttered against the strong sunlight. Unlike the house, which seemed, from the road at least, more open and airy, the lone outbuilding had a vaguely menacing air around it, as if, by its closed-tight look, it promised dark secrets hidden within.

As Kael drove closer, she noted that there wasn’t a number on, or near, the house, but since there weren’t any other habitable buildings anywhere else along the road for as far as the eye could see, the dwelling must have been the right one.

Pulling up into the semi-circular driveway, she turned off the ignition and sat in the car for a moment, listening to the tick of the slowly cooling engine and thinking. On her wild drive to nowhere, her anger leaked out of her slowly, leaving her empty once more. She was well aware how deep of a pit of depression she was in.

She was empty.

Completely and without purpose.

Emptier even than when she had first set foot in Colombia, the only reason for her existence being to live until the next fix could end the screaming pain of her shattered legs.

She didn’t even have that pain to spark her anymore.

Instead, she felt …numb.

Anger and hatred seemed the only things capable of filling her enough to erase the swaddled-cotton feelings she experienced each and every day since Lao Ma’s death. Utter rage was the only thing that got her out of the bed in the mornings.

She knew she was falling. Knew it in the marrow of her bones. So she tried. Oh yes, she tried. Tried again to be that vessel for purity that Lao Ma had so wished for her. Tried to picture in her mind that one perfect moment when anything seemed possible.

And failed. Miserably.

Well, if darkness was what it took to get her living again, she could handle that. Relish it, even. It seemed all she was destined for anyway.

Why not have fun with it?

And she had the feeling that this ‘seer’ could be very fun, indeed.

Feeling a little better about life in general, Kael pushed open the door and slipped her long frame out of the cramped car, raising to her full height gracefully, stretching out her muscles as she did so, and frowning, once again, at the caked blood liberally coating her flesh. “Motherfucker bleeds like the stuck pig he is,” she muttered, scratching flakes of blood off her arm.

The closing of her car door seemed deliberately timed to coincide with the opening of another. Dressed in dark jeans and a bright green shirt, her hair hanging loose and blowing in the slight breeze, a smile firmly affixed to her beautiful face, Ianna seemed the very picture of peace and clean living.

That and a good, healthy dose of primal, blatant sensuality thrown in for good measure.

“Welcome,” Ianna purred, leaning against the doorjamb in an exact imitation of Kael’s casually seductive pose when they had first met. “I knew we’d see one another again.”

“Yeah. You’re a real fortune teller, alright.”

Ianna’s smile broadened. “It pays the bills. Won’t you come inside?”

Instead of answering, Kael brushed past the standing figure and walked down the dimly lit hallway toward what she sensed was a large open room, lured on by the sight of candlelight as it flickered off one wall in the near distance.

The hallway opened out and Kael stepped into the room, then stopped, stunned at the sight before her.

The room was filled with candles. Seemingly hundreds of them littered every flat surface within, their flames dancing merrily and casting eerie shadows on walls and objects stuffed into the largish space. Taking up most of the remaining space were garishly dressed and painted life-sized plaster representations of what Kael, a Catholic girl back when religion actually meant something to her—as in when she was five and her parents, both long dead, forced her into a Church kicking and screaming—recognized to be saints. She looked, over her shoulder, at Ianna, who had followed her into the room. A perfectly arched eyebrow raised over one impossibly blue eye in question.

“As I said, it pays the bills,” Ianna said unapologetically. “The locals like a bang for their buck and I, of course, am happy to provide it for them. I am, after all, a Santeria priestess.” Her smile was mocking.

The connection clicked home. “Santeria. Saints.”

Ianna grinned. “Beauty and brains. An intoxicating package.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” Kael looked around. “You really believe in all this mumbo-jumbo? I took you more for a woman of …substance.”

The other woman laughed, somehow a harsh and grating sound, like two sandstone blocks rubbing against one another. “The spirit world has more substance than you could ever imagine. This is just my parlor. My pretty trappings, if you will. There are other, much more glorious things to be seen here. For those with the courage to look.” Her glance was a challenging one.

Kael snorted. “Like your ‘friends’ in the Villa family?”

“Ahh, you heard about them, did you?”

“Enough.”

“One of my proudest achievements.”

“If you consider that an achievement, I don’t think I’d like to see any of your failures.”

Ianna tilted her head coyly. “That’s just because you don’t know the whole story. It was a wonderful success.”

“Ya don’t say.”

“Oh, but I do. I most definitely do. You see, if they had only listened to me, did what I told them to do, they’d have been alive right now.”

“I was under the impression that listening to you was what got them murdered in their beds.”

Ianna laughed again. “Who do you think set that up in the first place?”

Kael bit back a smirk, cocking her eyebrow at the other woman.

“I’d be happy to share the whole tale with you, but first, why don’t why don’t we slip you into something a little more …comfortable.”

The raven eyebrow rose higher.

“Fetching as the blood-stained look is on you, my dear, I don’t want to have to spend the rest of the day washing it out of the furniture. We’re about the same size. I’m sure I have something to compliment that marvelous body of yours.”

*******

A half hour later, Kael was stepping out of the shower and feeling, physically at least, totally clean for the first time in what seemed to be months. Her long, lean body dripping, she reached out for a towel, only to open her eyes to find it dangling from one of Ianna’s fingers, a devious, totally wanton smile playing on the other woman’s full lips. “Looking for something?” she purred.

Shooting Ianna a withering glance, Kael snatched the towel and began drying herself off, putting a subtle play of eroticism in the act just for fun. As she put one leg up on the commode to begin drying the long, tanned expanse of skin, she saw the other woman, eyes glued to the sight, unconsciously lick her lips. Kael smirked and took her time, giving her audience a view she wouldn’t soon forget.

“If I ever had an ounce of doubt in my mind as to why that little bastard who calls himself a drug lord rolls belly up for you like a horse-whipped puppy, you’ve erased it quite nicely,” Ianna said, her normally husky voice even more burred as she struggled against the urges Kael engendered in her body.

After having dried off every square centimeter of flesh on her body, Kael straightened to her full height and simply stared at Ianna, a half grin teasing at the corners of her mouth. “Are you just gonna stand there staring at me all day, or are clothes an option?”

“Decisions, decisions,” Ianna returned, grinning wickedly. “Though I suppose clothing would make our little chat a bit less …distracting.”

“Then just give me the damn things and let’s get on with this already.”

Ianna laughed, but handed over the clothing and left the room, not bothering to close the door behind her.

Ten minutes later, as Kael walked into the living area clad in Ianna’s tight maroon tanktop—sans bra—and faded denim jeans, her hair still wet from the shower and clinging lovingly to her broad, tanned shoulders, Ianna realized she was wrong.

Clothed or not, the woman was distracting as hell.

Part 12

by: SwordnQuill

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. 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!

Last disclaimer: Hi all! Well, after a year or so, I’m baaaaack. I can’t promise any swift or timely updates on this piece because it’s still the bitch of a lifetime to write, but I am dedicated to getting it done, so just hang in there with me, ok? To all of you who have written asking when it would be continued, thank you, and here’s your answer!

Feedback: As always is gratefully appreciated. Swordnquil@aol.com

DESERT STORM

by: Sword’n’Quill (Susanne Beck)

A half hour later, Kael was stepping out of the shower and feeling, physically at least, totally clean for the first time in what seemed to be months. Her long, lean body dripping, she reached out for a towel, only to open her eyes to find it dangling from one of Ianna’s fingers, a devious, totally wanton smile playing on the other woman’s full lips. “Looking for something?” she purred.

Shooting Ianna a withering glance, Kael snatched the towel and began drying herself off, putting a subtle play of eroticism in the act just for fun. As she put one leg up on the commode to begin drying the long, tanned expanse of skin, she saw the other woman, eyes glued to the sight, unconsciously lick her lips. Kael smirked and took her time, giving her audience a view she wouldn’t soon forget.

“If I ever had an ounce of doubt in my mind as to why that little bastard who calls himself a drug lord rolls belly up for you like a horse-whipped puppy, you’ve erased it quite nicely,” Ianna said, her normally husky voice even more burred as she struggled against the urges Kael engendered in her body.

After having dried off every square centimeter of flesh on her body, Kael straightened to her full height and simply stared at Ianna, a half grin teasing at the corners of her mouth. “Are you just gonna stand there staring at me all day, or are clothes an option?”

“Decisions, decisions,” Ianna returned, grinning wickedly. “Though I suppose clothing would make our little chat a bit less …distracting.”

“Then just give me the damn things and let’s get on with this already.”

Ianna laughed, but handed over the clothing and left the room, not bothering to close the door behind her.

Ten minutes later, as Kael walked into the living area clad in Ianna’s tight maroon tanktop—sans bra—and faded denim jeans, Ianna realized she was wrong.

Clothed or not, the woman was distracting as hell. “Very nice.”

Kael threw a smirk Ianna’s way as she ran a hand through her still-wet hair, then lowered her rangy frame onto one of the couches, crossing one long leg beneath her, her arms thrown casually over the seat’s plush back. “You wanted to talk. So talk.”

“Straight and to the point. I like that.” Ianna smiled. “Have you ever been to an American movie studio lot?”

Unsure where the conversation was leading, Kael kept her response to a brief nod.

“Good. Then you’ll understand me when I say that I think of all of this,” she gestured around the garishly decorated room, “as false front.”

“With you in the lead role.”

Ianna smirked. “Perhaps. But I play my part very well. My mother was a Santeria priestess, as was hers before her.”

“Insanity runs in the family, does it?” Kael replied, returning the smirk measure for measure.

“Touché. Priests, whores, witches and actors, all thought insane at some point or other in history. I’m in good company, wouldn’t you agree?”

“If that’s what you like to call it … .”

Throwing her head back against the couch, Ianna laughed, her voice low and liquid, a single malt scotch that smoothed and burned as it went down. “I do so enjoy you, Kael.” Righting her head, she gazed at the American with frank appraisal. “And I hope that I shall enjoy a great deal more of you as time goes on.”

Kael smiled dangerously. “I suppose that depends on you.”

“It does indeed.” She rose gracefully to her feet, coming the hair back from her forehead as she did so. “Please, come with me. I think you’ll find the next part of our tour very interesting.”

*****

Exiting the house through a rear door accessed through the small kitchen, Ianna led her guest along the barren grounds to the small shed which Kael had first noticed when coming upon Ianna’s house. Reaching into her pocket, Ianna removed a key which she placed in the large padlock which secured the shed’s solid door.

Slipping the lock free from the hasp, she opened the door.

Kael resisted the almost overwhelming urge to take a step back as the stench of rotting flesh assaulted her sinuses. Well used to the sickly sweet odor of decaying flesh, her stomach remained steady, but even though she was used to it, it wasn’t a preferred perfume. “Sublime bouquet,” she replied to an avidly watching Ianna. “Chateau de’ Corpse, ’89?”

Offering up a quiet chuckle, Ianna stepped inside and hit a switch next to the door. Dim overhead lighting illuminated the interior of the small building, revealing an oiled dirt floor, four garishly painted walls, and a large iron cauldron sitting in the very center, gleaming malevolently. The rest of the space was completely barren.

Though the outside air was scorching, the interior air was cold enough to raise gooseflesh on Kael’s bronzed skin. Her breath emerged as wisps of fog which quickly dissipated as they rose to the ceiling.

The chill wasn’t manufactured by some cleverly hidden air conditioning units. She could tell that without looking. Rather, it had the feel of an empty grave; a dark and rotting thing that touched upon her own darkness and pulled it effortlessly forward. She wasn’t even aware of the feral smile which slowly parted her lips, though her watcher most definitely was, and brought forth a smile of her own as Kael walked, almost trance-like, toward the center of the room.

Reaching the cauldron, Kael stopped and looked down. Inside was a dark, gelatinous mass which fairly radiated an overpowering stench, a chill that threatened to freeze her skin to her bones, and an overwhelming sense of power, hatred and fear.

“What is this?” she murmured, barely aware that she had even spoken aloud.

“The heart of darkness itself,” the priestess purred, coming to a stop next to her guest. “Power. Hunger. Hatred. Yours for the taking.”

Kael’s gaze sharpened as she turned her head and pinned Ianna with her icy eyes. “Explain.”

Ianna laughed, a deep, throaty sound that Kael’s body responded to. Reaching up, she threaded strong fingers though the thick mass of the priestess’ hair and brought their lips together with crushing, brutal force as their bodies pressed and glided against one another roughly.

Darkness flowed strongly through the American, and she welcomed it, opening the deepest parts of her soul to its overwhelming seduction, becoming one with it. Her body jerked and writhed as passions unknown even to her exploded within, carrying her effortlessly along their dark, twisting currents.

The sounds she made were those of a rutting animal, and when her climax roared through her with a force more powerful than she’d ever known, her neck arched back and she screamed her release to the heavens, her lips and teeth stained and glistening with Ianna’s blood.

When sensibility returned once again, she found herself crouched on all fours above her willing victim, her chest heaving, her body still spasming with the power of her release.

Ianna was grinning wildly, still writhing beneath the weight of her captor. Her once pristine shirt was rent down the center, and both breasts were bleeding freely from the bites she’d received. “You’re all I have hoped for and more, Kael Androstos. Join me. Join me and I will make you invincible.”

Growling, Kael rolled off the priestess’ enchanting body and stood, straightening her rumpled clothing and dragging a hand through her sweat-drenched hair. Her eyes became shadowed and wary as she attempted to process what had just happened to her.