I am neither Chinese nor a practictioner of any Chinese martial arts, nor am I a particularly fuck-yeah example of humanity. So this story is waaaay out of my comfort zone, but hopefully people like it anyway. Corrections on any aspects are more than welcome.
“Shoo! Woh kan i! Woh kan i!”
Xiù giggled as the little alien kid ran over chanting the familiar demand. It was morning… or, well, as close to morning as she could guess. She was sure her sleep patterns had shifted over the past month, and there was no day or night cycle here, but she had a routine and her “roommates” had figured it out. Every morning she would stretch and practice her forms, and the aliens – looking for all the world like human-sized bipedal racoons – liked to watch her do it, for some reason.
The little ones were vocal in their admiration, and they were so astonishingly adorable that Xiù couldn’t refuse them. They couldn’t pronounce her name properly, but that just made it cuter. She didn’t know what they were saying, but she’d figured out that “woh kan i” was their way of asking for her to practice.
The adults just liked having their children distracted from their horrible circumstances.
Xiù stood, having finished washing her face in the running sink of water that occupied a single corner of the large, grey room. Her clothing – a simple t-shirt and leggings – were getting grimy and smelly, and her long hair hung limply. Three weeks locked into this large, grey room without a shower was wearing her down. After the first week she’d finally surrendered to necessity and given herself the most miserable and cold sponge-bath ever, using one of her leg-warmers as a cloth, and trying to ignore the curious gazes of the raccoons as she removed her clothing. They may have been aliens, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t blushing furiously the entire time. Still, it’d made her feel better.
She probably wouldn’t need to wash so much if she didn’t exercise, but being a prisoner didn’t mean she wanted to lose her hard-earned muscle tone. It was hard enough to work up a proper sweat in the lighter gravity of… where-ever she was.
She tossed her impromptu washcloth over by her winter coat, which was folded up on the hard slate-grey floor where it had been acting as a pillow since her arrival. She looked over at little Myun and beckoned; the little alien chittered, which she had guessed was their version of happy laughter. The lights of the high ceiling shone brightly upon them as she walked over to a open area of the room and sank into a deep ma bu or horse stance. Myun imitated her, though with far less success. The aliens had long bodies and short, stubby legs, so they had a harder time balancing.
She slipped into the form, letting her arms and legs move with the confidence of endless repetition. Her pace was slow… when she’d first started these exercises shortly after her capture, she hadn’t wanted to alarm the aliens she was imprisoned with. When some of the little ones had begun imitating her, she hadn’t wanted to outpace and embarrass them. So she moved at a rate that was closer to a taiji meditation instead of the violent sharpness of xingyi or swirling movements of bagua.
Beside her Myun tipped over, but chittered in good humour.
Ayma smiled as Myun flopped over again in her attempts to imitate their fellow alien prisoner. The other three children watched in fascination as the human female stretched and contorted and balanced her body in ways that were astonishing. Yet the movements were incredibly graceful, beautiful in their elegance. They didn’t know why she danced for them, but the cubs loved it and it was a welcome distraction, even for the adults.
It helped them forget that they were all lab animals, trapped in a cage.
They’d been snatched by mercenaries on a simple trip between their homeworld, Gao, and the second colony, Gorai. A settler ship full of females and children, the males had spent their lives bravely resisting the invaders, but there had been simply too many of the huge four-armed Locayl, armed with pulse rifles that were several centuries more advanced than their own. Her species was a clever one – they’d progressed from flight to their first space stations in less than two hundred stellar rotations of their homeworld, which was apparently a new galactic record – but they were still latecomers on the scene.
The more helpful of the other species of the galaxy had warned them that it was an unfriendly place, especially for those species that had yet to join the Galactic Council properly. The Gaoians were cautious by nature… the offer to join the Council and the vague hints of consequences if they didn’t had sounded a little too much like bullying, so they wanted to carefully examine the fine-print. They’d been right to be concerned… some of the trade regulations weren’t acceptable, and some requirements impinged on their sovereignty. The sticking points had been worked through, however, and there was hope that they’d be a full, proper member of the interstellar community in less than ten stellar rotations.
It really wasn’t a surprise that some races wished to victimize the Gaoians as they could before they joined the “club”. Their captain and crew eliminated, the females and children had been herded into cages on the mercenary ship. Their own vessel – and the evidence – had been destroyed with a core overload. Trapped in the cages, they’d been taken to this installation on an unoccupied world, shoved into this single large room with its embarrassing amenities, and left to wait for their fate.
Every day, someone different would be taken. The ones who returned spoke of experiments. It was no shock to learn that their captors were Corti, the vile scientists of the galaxy. Blood was drawn, biopsies taken, fur shaved. One of the young females had returned missing an eye… another had her arm taken below the elbow. Their bodies could be repaired, if they managed to get home, but their spirits would remember. And they were the lucky ones… two of their number had never returned at all.
It made Ayma’s whiskers quiver with rage. On Gao, females were sacred, second only to the cubs. The males had many clans, but the females had only one. Every female was clan with every other, and woe be to those who harmed the clan. The males would compete and war as their instincts demanded, but they always kept it amongst themselves. A male who harmed a female would find it impossible to mate. If a male harmed a cub, he would be torn apart by every female in reach and by every male who ever hoped to have a cub of his own.
So far the Corti and their thuggish henchmen had yet to try to take one of their cubs, but Ayma knew it was only a matter of time.
It shamed her to think it, but she hoped they took Xiù first. She liked the strange alien, but the fact remained that she wasn’t Gaoian and wasn’t clan, although Ayma was reasonably certain Xiù was female… the breasts might have been large and oddly placed, but they were breasts, even hidden under the clothing.
She’d been dumped into their holding cell straight from a holding cage, just as they had been, mere hours after their own arrival. She’d been obviously terrified of them, just as they’d been of her. She’d cowered in the corner for near a day, and they hadn’t approached. She obviously didn’t have a translator, and didn’t understand a word they spoke, nor did her strange words mean anything to them. Ayma had noticed that she spoke at least two languages, as the harsh barking sounds and the sing-song words that sounded so similar to Gaoian couldn’t possibly be the same tongue.
Eventually it’d been Ayma herself who had broken the tension, offering the furless humanoid a nutrient sphere – the semi-solid grey suspension of basic proteins, carbohydrates, and minerals that was edible by all species and palatable to none. She’d had to pantomime their purpose, finally eating one in front of her and leaving another on the floor and backing away. Xiù had timidly picked it up, and finally two days of hunger had pushed her into taking a tiny bite. Ayma had chittered in laughter… disgust transcended language. But the alien female had finished the sphere, and then astonished them all by standing to move over to the dispenser embedded into the wall to consume four more.
After that they’d haltingly exchanged names in the clumsy way of first contacts everywhere: Ayma had pointed to herself and said “Ayma.” Then she’d pointed around all the others: “Gaoian”.
The alien pointed at Ayma with a long, slender finger from one hairless hand, so much like a Corti’s but with fewer digits. “Ayma.” Ayma bounced her head in affirmation. “Gaoian.” Encouraged, she gestured again.
Ayma pointed at a nearby female, “Ujali.” Then at the little cub who was currently peeking out from behind her. “Myun.” One by one, she introduced each of the members of their ill-fated voyage.
When she was done she looked at the alien expectantly. The alien realized after a moment, then pointed at herself. “Xiù,” she said. “Human.”
The `human’ was friendly enough once the ice was broken. Understandably nervous, and after a while Ayma realized it wasn’t just because of their circumstances… in fact, Xiù seemed to barely have a grasp on their predicament. After some clumsy, sign-language communication, Ayma realized that their lone visitor was from an uncontacted species. She felt even more sympathy for the lost humanoid – the Council considered species without FTL ability as barely sapient, and certainly wouldn’t expend any effort in returning her home. She had no way to tell Xiù this, and wasn’t sure it would help her at all even if she could.
She watched with them as every day the huge guards would open the door, pick one of the Gaoians and drag them off for study and experimentation. She saw how resistance was met with pain sticks, the merest touch enough to leave an adult female twitching in agony on the floor. The body language of another species was always hard to decipher, but Ayma was confident the strangely mobile and expressive face of Xiù showed horror each time.
The fright and despair was broken only by boredom. Their cage was a large, square room, with only the nutrient dispenser, the water fountain, and a single, omni-species toilet with only a single thin wall for privacy. There was no stimulation, and the cubs were understandably restless within a day. The adults had no desire to burden the children with their own lack of hope, but they also had nothing to distract them with.
Xiù, apparently, also experienced boredom. Ayma had no idea whether their `days’ were equivalent to the human’s, nor what kind of day/night schedule they had, but shortly after waking from her sleep cycle on the fourth day, the alien female had begun stretching her body in an astonishingly limber display. And once she judged herself sufficiently pliable, she’d begun… to dance.
A strange dance, for certain, but beautiful. She moved in a circle, her movements as smooth as oiled machinery. Her upper limbs would extend like wings, or thrust in front of her. She sometimes crouched amazingly low, or leaped incredibly high, and when she landed it was with barely a whisper. Ayma had thought the creature was a mammal, possibly a primate, but with such displays she had to wonder whether Xiù was actually avian.
The cubs, who had begun to become listless and left with nothing but their fear, had been delighted.
Xiù breathed softly as she traced her way through the ba gua nei gong, her hands drawing lines and circles gently in the air. Beside her Myun imitated her as best as her short limbs allowed, and Xiù couldn’t help but smile. She kept her lips shut – she’d read once that humans and other primates were unique in showing teeth as a friendly gesture, and she didn’t want to frighten anyone.
She never once thought that kind of information would be anything more than trivia… just as she’d never thought she’d be doing gung-fu in outer space with aliens.
She didn’t even consider herself that much of a student! She took the classes because her mother constantly lamented how Americanized her daughter was, nevermind the fact that they lived in Vancouver and she was technically Chinese-Canadian. Her mother complained constantly about her clothing, her music… even her accent when she spoke Mandarin. She sometimes wondered if her mother considered university to be an expensive dating service… apparently, instead of working on her degree, she was supposed to be finding a studious young man in the engineering or computer science departments with good prospects so she could settle down and marry. The fact that this young man should be Chinese went without saying.
And Mother wondered why she got along so much better with Daddy.
Xiù had her own plans: she wanted to be an actress. She idolized the likes of Zhang Ziyi, Gong Li, and Michelle Yeoh. Her mother’s complaints that she was becoming too detached from the country of her birth was ridiculous… Zhang Ziyi was an amazing ambassador of Chinese culture. Too masculine? Had her mother never looked at Gong Li? Daddy, busy as he was, was supportive, funding her ballet classes and gung-fu lessons along with her university tuition. Xiù worked hard, determined that one day it would be her on a stage, accepting a Golden Horse award, or perhaps even an Oscar… her father would be there, and he’d be proud.
She hoped she’d see them again… even Mother.
It had been on her way home from her night ballet class that she’d been taken. It had been like something out of a movie: a beam of light had shone down on her from the heavens, and her feet had taken leave of the earth. If anyone had heard her shrieks they hadn’t responded. She’d been carried up and straight into a barred metal cage, being stared at by a lone… creature, that looked absolutely like the aliens from that Roswell video hoax… except it probably wasn’t a hoax, was it? Before she could react he’d pressed something against the side of her throat, and with a pfft of expelled air something had been injected under her skin.
Then he turned and simply left. Left her in her cage, in the grey, featureless room.
She’d screamed and kicked at the bars, but they hadn’t cared. She’d cowered when two of the huge, four-armed aliens had come in to stare at her. In the back of her mind she’d understood that the subtle vibrations of the deck and her cage were the hum of an engine, an engine that was likely flinging them through space at impossible speeds. A day later she’d been dumped into this holding room, like a tiger captured on safari, to share a room with two dozen human-sized racoons.
At least they’d been friendly. And they were prisoners, like her. She didn’t know what happened each day when one of them would be dragged off by the behemoths, as she called them, but her imagination supplied a number of awful possibilities, each worse than the last. Possibilities that were confirmed as the racoons began returning – those that did return – with terrible wounds.
Xiù didn’t know why she practiced her forms in such a place. Maybe it was because the gravity felt so much lighter… she felt like she wouldn’t need wires to reproduce the amazing stunts from the movies she studied. Maybe because she wanted to feel like she still had some power, and martial arts were about inner strength.
Maybe she did it because, no matter what it was meant for, gung-fu was beautiful… and this place needed beauty.
She’d completed her routine once already and was launching into a second iteration when the lone door to the shared room groaned upward. She halted in her movements as she heard the hisses of fright from the racoons. Myun whimpered and hid behind Xiù, wide black eyes peeking around her hip.
Two the behemoths stepped into the room. They were huge, twice as tall as Xiù herself (although she would reluctantly admit that didn’t say much) and possessed of four arms that were as thick around the biceps as her own waist. Their skin was a pale beige, and their clothing was little more than baggy khaki shorts with equipment and what were likely symbols of rank attached to the belt. They looked like fat old men with oddly-angled eyes, huge goiters, and tiny holes where the ears on a human would be located. Each held two of the long metal sticks that could cripple any of the raccoons that resisted with the barest touch.
They stopped just inside the door, surveying the frightened prisoners. Their tiny beady eyes turned in Xiù’s direction, and one raised an arm, pointing at her with a fat, three-fingered hand. Her heart froze in her chest.
“What? What do you want?” she asked, her voice shaking. The behemoth stomped toward her, growling in a low unintelligible voice. “What do you want? Why did you take me?”
The big alien stared down at her shaking form, repeating whatever it said before, but she didn’t understand! Finally it lost patience, grabbing hold of her shoulder… and shoving her to the side. With its last free hand it reached for Myun.
Xiù heard the barks of the adult raccoons, matching her own shocked inhalation. “What? No! Not her!” She reached out and grabbed the alien hand before it could wrap around Myun’s tiny arm. The behemoth had been expecting it; one of its stick swung down and caught her across the collarbone, and she felt like she’d been tazed. She cried out, collapsing to one knee.
She heaved in a breath as the behemoth lifted the stick, thinking her finished, as he grabbed again for the alien child. Xiù found the strength to grab his wrist again; she saw his beady little eyes go wide. He swung the taser-stick down again, hitting her in the arm, and this time he held it against her. Fire spread up and down her arm, but she braced herself and took it.
The hand that held his wrist clenched from the shock, and she felt bone crumble inside her grip as it did. His skin tore, and greenish blood leaked out across her fingers. The behemoth roared in pain.
What?
The adult raccoons had gone berserk as soon as the little one was threatened. They swarmed the other big alien, who swung both of his taser-sticks back and forth. The slightest touch was enough to draw a screech from the raccoons and send them flying, where they’d lay twitching on the floor, limbs quivering and drool leaking from their mouths. Why was Xiù so less affected?
The answer was obvious, as plain as her pink furless skin and red blood. They weren’t the aliens here – she was.
She snarled, struggling against the stick which was still held against her arm, her dirty, sweaty grey shirt doing little to insulate her. The behemoth groaned in pain, his wrist still held by her. She let go and jumped, planting her foot in his sternum, a full-force straight kick. There was a loud crack and the big alien was sent flying, Xiù thrust in the opposite direction. Both hit the walls on opposite sides of the prison room.
Xiù stood back up. The behemoth did not.
Total silence covered the room, as every eye in the room stared incredulously at her. The remaining behemoth was surrounded by a dozen fallen raccoons, including Ayma, but he didn’t seem to be concerned about those who were struggling painfully to their feet. He didn’t have to: everyone was more concerned about the lone human in the room.
The behemoth turned and darted – well, as much as a fat, two-and-a-half-metre brute could be said to dart – toward the still-open door, abandoning his fallen comrade and the circle of disabled prisoners scattered around him.
 
He’s going to lock us in! she realized, and her feet were moving before she’d finished the thought. She charged ahead, each stride consuming metres at a pace. She covered the distance and thrust out her hands, catching him in the side with an instinctive shuang zhuang zhang, or double-palm strike. There was another crunch and he flew sideways into the wall, but she was following, leaping and catching him in the chest with her knee. Another snapping, popping sound; he barked out the last of his breath and slid down to the floor, his barrel chest warped beyond survival.
Xiù looked down in shock at the alien, dead by her hands.