Quiet Before the Storm
07 Dec 2017MMMMMalcolm
The next day was uneventful. The only diversion from our normal passenger ferry routine was the time Kay piloted the ship. She insisted on landing without the docking computer. By the time the gear touched down, I was embarrassed I objected. I couldn’t tell the difference.Kay left the ship for a moment in Littrow City. Said she knew someone who ran an underground holo lab she and Marcus would drop in on from time to time. I spent the rest of the day cleaning and checking the ship. When she returned, I had to pick my chin up off the deck. Her hair was still raven black, but it was cut short and curly. Her eyes, nose, cheeks, and complexion were all altered to appear
Asian. I mistook her for a passenger.
“I’ve learned when you look for trouble, trouble finds you,” she explained after a good laugh at my expense. “The trick is not giving trouble a good place to start looking. My new name is Commander Crystal Cross. You may call me CC.”
“Welcome aboard CC. You make a lovely addition to this crew.” She ignored my complement with elegant poise, but her cheeks turned a deep crimson. Another reason I liked her new face, the old one was much harder to read. “I’m sure you will excel as the co-pilot and fighter pilot. Let me show you to the First Ma-, uh, your quarters.”
She didn’t even twitch. She just quietly followed me down the corridor that leads to the Captain’s Quarters. Across the hall was a nicely furnished suite that was just a little bit smaller than mine. Kay walked in and looked around, making sure to silently inspect everything. For the first time I noticed the shopping bags she carried, after she dropped them on the small coffee table.
“I trust you will find everything to your liking,” I said waiting by the entrance. If she had any feelings about her accommodations, she didn’t express them. “The mini fridge in the kitchenette is fully stocked, but you may want to refresh that food. It’s been there a while. If you need anything else, just holler. I’m right across the hall.”
“Get some rest. We have to start training.”
Before I could ask, she shut the door. I turned around to my quarters and reread the gold plated sign on the door. I wondered if it was out of place when I went in.
“Ouch girl,” Kay thought to herself as she leaned against the door. “Did you have to be so rude?”
“That’s nothing compared to what will happen if he ever lies to me again.”
“Oh c’mon, he didn’t lie. Well, he lied about his name. But everything else was true at the time. He was born and raised in Sol. He was a Rear Admiral on leave from the Federal Navy. And he likes you.”
“Bah. That goofy pilot!? It’s a wonder he’s survived this long.”
“Yes the cute pilot. And his quirks make him charming. He survived by analyzing situations and making quick decisions; not unlike someone else you used to know. And besides, you didn’t think he was so goofy when you slept with him in Sol.”
“Chalk that up to being in the Frontier for three years. The black, added to loneliness, and sprinkled with grief makes you do weird things; like talk to yourself.”
“So what now? He’s a nice enough guy. And he’s in so much trouble. Do you really think you can help him? Everything you know, Marcus taught you; and he’s gone. Maybe you picked up his overconfidence.”
“Shut up!”
Kay went into the kitchen and started throwing the food into the garbage disposal unit. Maybe with a little more force than necessary. She tried to focus on what she wanted to eat and ignore the brewing storm. She tried hard, but she failed.
I awoke to fresh scrambled eggs, bacon, hash brown potatoes, and buttered toast. I thought I was dreaming, but when I walked into my sitting room, there the plate was accented by a glass of orange juice on my coffee table in front of my couch. I attacked the breakfast like a starving jackal. Between the last swallow of eggs and the first bite of potatoes I notice the note next to the plate.
“Meet me in Cargo Bay 1. –Kay”
I guess I’m about to find out what sort of training I’m doing. I checked the time; it was 0845. I gulped down the rest of my breakfast, washed it down with the juice and hopped in the shower. Once dressed in some beige cargo pants and a black t-shirt, I made my way down to Cargo Bay 1.
Kay was in the center of the empty bay. She was lying on her stomach with her legs spread just beyond shoulder width and the toes of her tennis shoes pointed down toward the deck. One hand was behind her back; the other hand was just to her side, balled in a fist, with the knuckles resting flat on the metal floor. With just a slight wobble she pushed up; the muscles in her arm, once hidden from non-use, were now bulging under the strain of supporting her upper body. 1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…9…10 She looked up and saw me crossing the bay. Sweat ran down the sides of her frowning face and soaked her tank top. Dirt from the floor of the bay stuck to the sweat seeping through tight Lycra pants. I suddenly felt over dressed for the occasion.
Kay had all the cargo racks removed. The noise of my boots against the metal floor echoed as I crossed the empty class four bay.
“How long you been up?” I asked as she rose from the deck.
“Since 0600. You’re going to have a tough time running laps in those boots.”
“Laps? There’s not enough room to run laps in here.”
“Not here, deck five. The corridors run nearly the length of the ship and form a complete circle. I did ten laps earlier. You should be able to run five; well, at least two in those boots.”
Ten laps was nearly two miles around this boat. I felt like I was back at the Federal Naval Academy. I didn’t like getting up early to run and sweat then; my mind hasn’t changed since.
“If you hurry you can make it back here in three minutes.” Kay said dismissing me. She got back down to finish her push-ups with her other arm. I clomped back to the door to start running.
Four and a half minutes later I stumbled back in to the bay. Sweat was pouring off me as if a running faucet was hovering over my head. My t-shirt choked. My pants felt awkward and clung in all the wrong places. My feet felt like I was wearing two square iron maidens. I wasn’t looking forward to tending to the blisters that covered my soles.
Kay was on her back now. Her hands were behind her head. Her legs were together with her toes pointed in the opposite direction of her head. She quickly raised her head and shoulders up off the deck. At the same time she brought her knees toward her face. She exhaled and counted off. As she inhaled, she lowered her head and shoulders back down to the floor. She simultaneously extended her legs again, but her feet now hovered a perfect six inches off the deck. After a slight pause, she repeated the cycle nine more times.
“What’s… next?” I panted, bent over, with my hands on my knees. Salty sweat was stinging my eyes.
“You’re out of shape,” Kay said; rising to meet me. “Do some stretches with me while you catch your breath. Then we will work on some basic self-defense.”
“Did you enjoy your breakfast?” she asked, breaking the silence while we stretched. “I tried to limit it to foods found on Earth.”
“Yes, thank you. It was delicious.” I wasn’t sure how much of it I was going to keep down though.
“I wanted to thank you for listening to me yesterday,” she continued as we switched positions. “I’ve been holding that in for so long. It felt good to get it out.”
“Don’t mention it,” I replied. No. Seriously, stop talking. I could barely breathe, any more work required of my lungs I feared would shut them down.
“You ready?” Kay asked a view minutes later.
“I guess so.” My breathing was still deep, but it wasn’t labored like an elephant was sitting on my chest.
“When you’re in a confrontation, you only have a few seconds before an attacker has gained full control of you,” she began, standing about arm’s length in front of me. “This is no time to be civil. It’s hurt or be hurt. Aim for the parts of the body where you can do the most damage easily: the eyes, nose, ears, neck, groin, knee, and legs.”
Taking my hands in hers, she raised them until they were horizontal to the floor, knuckles up.
“Punching someone the wrong way can hurt you more than it hurts them. These hands don’t look like they have punched anyone. A palm heel strike can inflict as much if not more damage to your attacker, while remaining safe to you. Take your right hand and grab my shoulder like you’re a security services officer.”
I grabbed her shoulder. Her left arm curled around my arm like a python. Her shoulder was so solid I almost lost my grip. She slammed her left hand into the bend of my right elbow drawing my upper body in slightly. At the same time her right hand shot toward my nose palm out, fingers straight, stopping just short of shoving my nose back into my brain.
“ You can also curl your fingers toward your attacker's face and scratch out his eyes after this strike. If you have an advantage, do what you can to keep it. Now you try.”
She grabbed my shoulder. Her strong vice like grip made me lose my train of thought for a second. I weakly wrapped my left arm around her arm. My left hand hit the bend of her right elbow. She didn’t budge. I raised my right hand in front of her face like I was asking her to stop.
“Try again. This time more like you’re fighting a bully and less like you’re dancing with your grandmother.”
She grabbed my shoulder again. My second attempt, though quicker, wasn’t any more effective than the first.
“At least you have the concept down. With practice you might become scary. The next two are variants on the same theme. Grab my shoulder again.”
I grabbed her shoulder. It felt like a piece of mining ore. Her cupped right hand swung around toward the left side of my face stopping beside my ear. She didn’t hit me but the air gathered along by her hand did. I was grateful it was only air.
“This is called an ear slap. Done right you could rupture an eardrum.” She pulled her hand back. Then just as quick she swung it toward the left side of my neck. Her palm was facing down while her fingers pointed forward past the back of my neck. He thumb was pressed firm against the side of her hand. “This is a knife hand strike. Hit the neck just right to stun your attacker. I’ll show you one more upper body strike. Grab both my shoulders this time.”
I extended my left hand to her right shoulder. Kay grabbed the collar of my t-shirt with both hands. With a slight nudge she pushed my shoulders back; then, with a little more force pulled them toward her. I couldn’t help but cry out “OH!” as my face rushed toward the crown of her head. At the last second, she pushed me away; my nose and teeth happy they weren’t banished to other parts of my face.
“The head-butt. Make sure you’re looking at the ground when the crown of your head connects with your attacker’s face.
Practice these while I keep up appearances with the passenger runs. After you master, these I’ll teach you some lower body strikes.”
Kay turned and walked out of the bay. I stood speechless watching her walk away. Thinking back to the night we met, I was convinced she had used me. There was no way I could have taken advantage of her.