Lieutenant Katia in Afghanistan
By
Gwen Brown

Lt Frank Grace sat there behind the British heavy machine gun, nervously waiting for the inevitable attack. Ordinarily, he would, could not be bothered with the task of actually operating the gun, but he had his other men doing specific responsibilities that were important enough to replace the wounded weapon man himself for a short time. It would be quite difficult for his Sergeant to forbid it from his body bag.

Today, he felt the deep, hopeless despair that took him from time to time. After all the years of trying and trying to fit in; to conform, he'd followed his Father's advice and taken a commission. This of course sent him right off to the war as soon as his training requirement was finished.

He didn't say anything to anyone about his utter despair. Before Afghanistan, the drunken nights had not helped, and his father, being totally clueless, thought that if the boy "Manned Up" a little that he would be cured.

Of course, a last name like Grace, had not helped any when he was younger and in school; and then his naturally feminine carriage and small stature made it all the worse. The only thing that saved him now is that he showed compassion for those with him and he was brilliant at anticipating the enemy's next move. In his battlefield strategy classes, he often dumfounded even the instructors. He'd had to become masterful at strategy even as a child, to keep away from those who could really hurt him.

Now, as a full officer, he often exposed himself with reckless abandon to the fire of the enemy. No one around him knew about the reason he'd come to the war. He wanted to either prove himself or be killed in combat and he actually preferred the latter to the former. He had no way of knowing that something was about to happen that would totally screw up his plans.

Frank was abruptly pulled from his reverie by the sound of one of his men.

"IRIA(Integrated Radar, Infrared, and Audio detection system) picking up mortars sir".

"Jolly good, give me a bearing as soon as you have it."

"142,36degrees Sir".

The Lieutenant knew that 142 was the local compass bearing and the 36 was the elevation. The coordinated auto mount oriented three L2A1’s correctly amid a slight whirring and clicking.

That was just where Frank thought it would come from.

He pulled the trigger, and the insistent chuffing of the guns began. Their firing became prolonged and he worried about burning up the barrel but the only thing that would help was lots of ordinance on that hill.

Suddenly, the whole mountain disappeared in the most catastrophic explosion Frank had ever witnessed, a blinding flash before Frank lost consciousness. Hell there wasn't enough left of him to ever be conscious again.

Suddenly, Frank’s remains blinked out of sight. They were beamed aboard a passing Alien space ship.

Malok quickly put the remains in the Auto Medic and turned it on. Life saving fluids began flowing around his remains, and cybernetic systems rapidly explored, utilizing information that the systems had previously gathered about humans and their health needs.

The young Lieutenant had no way of knowing that, only his head and part of his trunk were intact. Frank slowly became aware that he had begun to dream, and it felt like someone was in his head rooting about. At first he dreamt of dark phantoms sweeping past him in dense fog. The scene lightened and long suppressed desires began to slowly surface. A young woman swam into his awareness and before his Astral vision, she morphed from a slender young woman into one with exaggerated hips, large breasts and with an impossibly tiny waist.

Katia felt she was manipulated and made into someone that she had no desire to be. As she swam about in her dream, she became aware that part of her being was made to please a hormone driven teenager. She was powerless before his immature will.

Frank wondered where he was and who Katia was, "God, what's Dad gonna say now?"

"Geeze, cute guy in here with me." Said another voice in his dream.

Gradually both their consciousnesses solidified and then melded together. Slowly she began to understand that whoever she was now, used to be Frank but after being struck by weapons fire, his old body had been destroyed. Someone had saved his brain, but most of the rest would be the construction of a somewhat demented and comedic alien teenager.

By Earth standards, the Alien, loosely a male, would be seen as a crazy genius, and watched very carefully, but since Malok the Alien had the big stick, he did what he wanted to do. He was out exploring the galaxies in his neighborhood precisely because he was so reckless.

His Mom and both Dads (Women practiced polyandry) had simply sent him off somewhere to get through his "teen" years so he did not further ruin the family's reputation at court.

Malok had been cruising along a short distance above the desert, when he strayed into a desolate and useless looking place that Earthlings called Afghanistan; in the middle of a firefight between some British soldiers and some of their enemy up on the high ridge. When the first bullet from above hit the shields of his exploration vehicle, two point three nanoseconds later, those from above ceased to exist along with a cubic half mile of the mountain. The shaped explosion killed all of them within about 2 miles down range. It was an explosion designed not to cast debris back toward Malok himself.

It took slightly longer for his cyber brain to figure out that the people below were really just defending themselves. Malok had already killed three men in the squad below, and only one of them was salvageable at all.

"Shit, Daddy Gonush is gonna be pissed."

Gonush, one of his fathers, was an anthropologist and a pacifist too. The other one had died doing exploration, hundreds of Galaxies away from home.

The young alien had been studying Earth for a few weeks and wanted to use his advanced knowledge to reconstruct Frank in a way that he would be as good as or better than new. Then, when Malok studied Frank's brain more, he had a little surprise. Lt Frank Grace was transgendered! He could further see that his subject’s deeply repressed purpose for coming to Afghanistan was to end his life and end his life time of pain.

On his planet, if a child had this problem, the Doctors fixed it immediately. Malok nobly decided that he would repair this subject in a way that met Frank's deepest desires. Malok was not terribly surprised to find that within Frank's brain dwelt a being that was much different than the soldier that had not long ago been firing a heavy machine gun. Well, Malok , being in a charitable mood, had decided to allow the young man to live out his dreams. Once back to his ship, the Afconda, he settled in to do a leisurely job of enhancing his latest venture.
In spite of being a largely cybernetic construct, Malok still had feelings of remorse over having destroyed some of the beings that he found most interesting.

Malok had previously been very surprised to find that Frank had harbored these feelings of wanting to be a woman within himself. It would take a few hours but he wanted to do it as a fun project. After all it was not an emergency and Malok wanted to play a little; to feed his own sense of humor. He increased altitude and began to take stock of what he'd encountered.

He knew that those who were fighting in the valley were beings that called themselves British, and relatively advanced as far as the population of this planet was concerned. With some notable exceptions, their social mores were consistent with a developing planet. He'd noticed that the British as they called themselves, could be quite merciless to each other when talking in a conversation. Malok had yet to understand, it was perverse humor and often called, 'winding up your adversary.

Their apparent enemy were also humanoid, but for some reason seemed to be several hundred thousand rotations of their sun behind the others genetically; owing to nearly constant warfare for thousands of years in the region. Sifting through the various Earth Databases, and using the knowledge of his own race, he’d already found that the yellow hair and blue eye combination he’d found in some humans was a mutation that was only about 12,000 of their years old, so it seemed reasonable that certain races would be less intellectually developed than others.

Genetically, the natives of this region were also among the oldest peoples on the planet. The alien felt that the genetic difference was nearly large enough to warrant making the two races different species. It did not take long for Malok to conclude that the arid, inhospitable climate, and frequent earthquakes were also causative factors in the genetic retardation in the area. Through examining various world data bases, he determined that the country was isolated from more advanced countries by hundreds of miles and since there seemed to be little developed mineral wealth, it was left isolated for hundreds of years.

With his sophisticated instrumentation, Malok could easily see substantial Mineral wealth to exploit so that the country could advance economically. He decided to try an experiment and the first data would be gotten by his newly repaired human.

It was relaxing work, to him, similar to a woman knitting or clipping her nails. He began by completing the body the old Frank would occupy, and then tweaked it to better than perfection by human standards. So, the end product was 5'1" with unusually wide hips, strong but really loose knee joints, very narrow waist, and of course big, um protuberances. Malok made her breasts "D's" and inserted a lot of strong connective tissue, so that she would never require support. In his own little bit of creativity, he engineered his improvements to her breasts so that while at rest, her breasts were soft and subtle, but when she began to run or move about rapidly, they would tense up and not bob about painfully. His tastes in body design loosely agreed with original human standards with a few exceptions. He used material for skin, muscle and bone construction that was hundreds of times more durable than the original.

Her feet were tiny, her skin was like alabaster, and she could more than crack nuts with, her bare hands. You get the idea. Her lips were the epitome of beautiful; having a very pronounced cupids bow. Her Pashto-like eyes were so penetrative that they would seem like a laser gun sight to anyone upon who she gazed. As a final touch, Malok gave her butt length jet black hair. The triumph of his creation was making her voice so sweet that no man could resist her. Malok even decided to make her inner organs fully functional, but much more efficient. Her menses would be a single day of malaise, with the extrusion of a single soft pellet that had once been the inner lining of her Uterus and the unfertilized egg.

By no means did he leave her defenseless. He made her several times stronger than the old human body, improved the efficiency of her body systems, gave her eyes that could see in a much broader visual range from deep infrared to the mid ultraviolet range, extremely acute hearing, and a small, light weapon that was keyed directly to her brain; precise aim was not necessary. The young girl would be in a lot of danger and Malok did not want her mission to fail.

The mischievous alien planned to set her to the task of exploring for minerals and getting the locals working on exploiting them. But first, he'd just put her back to the previous task that Frank had been doing so she could become acclimated to her new body, and surroundings.

Malok had seen the huge deposits of mineral wealth in the area in his first approach to the planet, and later as he analysed the history of the area, found that previous occupiers, the Russians, as they were called, had known of them too, but were thrown out before much exploitation could be done. He decided to put misinformation out that the American government had re-discovered it all, more to conceal his own presence than anything.

He set her age at about 16 years old and released her back to the squad where she originated and wearing British Army regulation clothing and carrying her pistol of Malok's own design.

Malok named his creation Katia and programmed her so she already knew it. As long as he stayed relatively close to earth, he'd be able to see through her eyes and hear through her ears. For safety, he also left Frank's memories there too, so she could function in her current surroundings. He could remotely monitor every function of her body; making her almost identical to a robotic probe, except she was not cybernetic and retained free will. If power became a problem for her, he'd slip in more. He'd be able to communicate with her in two way communication, but he'd not let her know that right away.

The men in their emergency dugout were suitably astonished to find her suddenly sitting amongst them!

'Shit, what pronoun do I use now?' She thought.

"Don't shoot me chaps, do I ever have a story for you". she said, then giggled so cutely that it immediately defused any inclination that any of them had about shooting her. Even the new Katia still retained Lt Grace's suitably stuffy British accent, but in an absolutely charming girl's voice.

" Bloody hell?" one of the soldiers said. It was a considerable understatement, considering the circumstances.

Katia let them all adjust to the shock for a few moments.

"I'm what's left of Frank, … er… Lt. Grace."

She shrugged and immediately began registering her hefty breast, and comfortably padded bottom. As she thought about it, she hoped she could figure out the intricacies of having a front bottom.

That made her giggle yet again.

They were all sat there, raptly looking at what was left of the hill in front of them. Naturally, there was no one left to shoot at them.

None of the soldiers slept that night, and by morning, they'd worked out amongst themselves that, in their opinions, this wet dream of a girl really was Frank.

Without going into a lot of bloody detail, Lt Grace convinced Headquarters they needed emergency extraction. Needless to say, there wasn't any enemy activity that morning. Most of them had been killed and the rest had high tailed it back to Pakistan.

******************************************************************

"Sir, I have no idea what so ever how it all happened. I was sitting behind my weapon when there was a flash, and the next thing I know, it was dark and I was sitting amongst the troops holding my little pop gun."

"Did you fire that little pop Gun Lieutenant?"

"No, I didn't. All the enemy were gone, along with a huge chunk of the hill we were attacking. And, I did not seek the boyish delight of firing yet another awful weapon. In fact, I no longer have any boyish delight what so ever! It is sort of impossible in my new state!"

She smiled so sweetly that General Thotford found it extremely distracting.

"Yes, we know about your new state, erm Lt.

You still insist that you were Lt Frank Grace, do you?"

"I do sir, and so do the shrinks; though they are still trying to hang the nut case label on me."

"Well, can you blame them? I think that you are three stops beyond barking."

"No sir, and it gets very old after a bit. You bloody well know that they went through my whole file and I verified everything about it. And these shackles on me are quite demeaning."

She neglected to tell anyone that she'd just love it if young Sergeant Brand at the Motor Pool could put them on her. With that a frisson wove it's naughty way through her synapses; making her have visions of pouncing on the boy. Katia shook herself slightly and then tucked that thought safely away for … um … later reference.

The incident was not yet 24 hours in the past, and Katia was feeling quite threatened and nearly hysterical. She'd lost over a foot in height, now had curves that could best be described as mind numbing. She was really missing the convenience of the little hose she used to have. Well, not so much actually, but it was still quite an adjustment, and the last time in the loo, she felt like she had nearly electrocuted herself while cleaning up afterward. Her superior's words brought her back to the room.

"Well Lieutenant, none of us understand what happened."

The general seemed to think for a few moments. "Would you like to return to your duties or go back to England?"

"Well sir, I think I should like to return to my duties but have them modified somewhat? Will you remove the shackles or shall I?" With that she simply pulled on them a little and they shattered, parts of them flying around the room.

"Well, Lt Katia, shall I have the cost of those restraints deducted from your pay?"

"Please don't sir, none of my clothing fits now and buying more will be an awful expense. This whole ordeal has been awfully unsettling. Besides, what am I to tell my Mum?"

With that, both of them laughed for a bit.

Katia had not told them everything. She'd found herself with an astonishing linguistic ability. So far, she'd been able to rapidly learn virtually any language she tried after listening to it for a relatively short time. French was her favorite.

She'd also found that she was very strong now, infinitely stronger than before. She'd crushed the grab bar on the door when she'd had sudden cramping at the beginning of what would later prove to be her mense. "Gad, you'd have thought that whoever did this to me would have given me at least some time to adjust." she thought.

Katia did not know it but the little Pop Gun she'd returned with had more fire power than her M2. and seemed to never need reloading. The lab found the weapon to be completely impregnable to snooping. In further evaluation, they found the weapon to be more comparable to a tank cannon. They did not intend to give it back to the little girl.

******************************************************************

She was just finishing her third helping of eggs on toast and had no idea where it was going but gawd it was good, and Katia knew she had to have it.
She'd soon find out that none of it seemed to go to her hips, and for that she was grateful. She'd quietly determined that her physical abilities were far beyond what they were before. Though she had no idea how she would respond to battle wounds. On a quiet walk, she'd found that a heavily loaded truck took only a slight bit of effort to pick up one end. She found she could run long distances at astonishing speed, but her hip action took a lot of getting used to. In fact, it felt like her butt swung like the pendulum.

She had asked to be put in her old outfit, and suggested that they do some covert night work. Katia was sure that she could prosecute the war much more effectively now, making sure that the criminals came to justice without harming the innocent.

For some reason, she now had a preference for a radically altered shirt in her old size but sewn to fit her diminutive horizontal measurements. The result was a loose fitting garment that nearly reached her knees. She used pants in her size so that the final uniform resembled a Salwar Kameez (Garment whose length is almost to the knees with long sleeves and loose. Is worn with loose pants). The garment resembled what women wore on Malok's home world.

Just before the next mission, she went back to talk to the General about her strange weapon. "Do you think I might have it back sir?"

"Why, of course not girl!"

"Sir, I am a Leftenant in her Majesty's Service."

"That my young girl, is debatable."

"Sir, might I respectably remind you that it was given me by whoever wrought such havoc with my body?" she cheerfully chirped. "And, I have heard rumors that its utility is astonishing. Considering the danger I and those with me will encounter, I think we need all the advantage we can get."

"That is absolutely out of the question girl. You're not to be going off this base until I the home office has decided what to do with you. I expect it is back to the UK for you.

With that last sexism, something in Katia snapped. "Don't you ever call me girl again, you fat old desk wart!"

"That is insubordination Lieutenant and I am calling security right now!"

Katia, did not remember exactly how it happened; her brain having somehow switched gears or something. She suddenly found herself sitting astride the general, who was now lying on the floor; his chair tipped over. His nose was bleeding, and her hands were around his neck. His face was turning blue.

Upstairs, Malok had almost fallen out of his seat with laughter. "My, that little human is the "spit fire" that I designed." He'd gained a propensity for human language idioms and this one described her perfectly.

She quickly let go of the general when she came to her senses.

"You fat po faced slob, give me that Gun right now, or I shall finish what I started, and I will tell your wife that you are snogging Private Peters, and subjecting her to constant harassment!"

"What did you just do?" His face carried a look of astonished horror.

"Don't even think of retaliation fat boy! I mean to do my utmost to end this endless bloodletting in Afghanistan. Bloody hell, 19 years here is enough! You can take the credit, or die trying to kill me. It is your choice. I rather think that you'll fail at the latter."

The General actually came back to his senses quite rapidly. "Lieutenant, I am going to ignore that last outburst, and have that "popgun" leant to you for … um … test purposes. We shall see if you are half what you think you are."
"Thank you sir" She was now standing at attention after helping him to his feet and giving him a hand full of tissues.

"You are dismissed Leftenant. Now go to the armory and check out your weapon".

"I will sir, thank you sir." She said as she saluted smartly, turned and walked out of the office.

***************************************************************

Katia's first combat mission led them well into the hills in the dark. Though it was not evident to her fellow soldiers, they were detected, and she watched in frustration as several figures crept out of the village and over the ridge just before they entered the tiny settlement. At first she did not realize that she could see in the infrared range. When she did, Katia thought it best not to reveal that.

After several frustrating attempts to engage with the Taliban, Katia, quietly stole out of the compound one night after telling John, the medic. They’d agreed that he should "suddenly discover" if she was not back in a day or two. Sure she'd have to face AWOL charges but decided she decided to deal with that when the time came. She'd talked to John about arranging supply drops in the dark, but she wanted to wait, hoping it would not be required.

This time, she secured and carried a black Abaya, Hijab and face covering. She had eye makeup sufficient to completely blacken her eye sockets. It was miles to the area of engagement where they had encountered much resistance in the past, but she found it not that hard to find a convoy heading that way.

They were going to re-supply a forward base. She sat on the back of the lead truck, for a while and then happily crawled up on top of the load. She could see watchers lurking various places along the way, but they did not act at first. Then one or two of them started taking pot shots. They each got off one shot with their AKs before she'd shoot them. It was odd but the little rifle seemed to correct her aim to hit whatever she could see. These shots seemed to be oddly muted. She had heard that the rounds were astonishingly destructive and it seemed really dumb to her that they would not let her discharge it near the camp.

As they entered the camp, she could see lurkers ranged all about it, so she hopped down and slipped away from the convoy. These guys really pissed her off, as they had wounded one of the boys in a rear truck. In her combat rage, she found that she often did not need her "Pop Gun", she'd just spear the enemy with her bare hand. In a couple groups, she purposely let one or two go; letting them live to spread the fear. The news of the "Woman of Shatun (Satan)" would spread fast.
Katia, stole a couple cases of rations, and moved off into the hills just as it was getting light. It only took a moment for her to put on her Abaya and Hijab. She did not want to look Pashto, because she wanted to frighten anyone who saw her. The Arab Clothing would have to suffice. It did not take her that long to find rocks for concealment, and she spent the day dozing under an outcropping. By night fall, she'd consumed all her water and the rations. She was still thirsty but would wait for a little while.

In her leisure, Katia had thought a lot about her old life; what she would tell her mum? She decided that she did not care what her father thought. Looking as she did, Katia wondered how she would travel almost 6000 Km to England without help. She doubted that the Military would do it and suspected that soon they would try to place her under custody on trumped up charges.

Katia wanted to find an intelligent way to contact the villagers in a manner that would persuade them to stop supporting those who wanted to fight. She wanted to try to find a way to neutralize the fighters without all the killing of innocent people.

The days turned into a several and then a week. She'd not even tried to arrange for a night air drop. She found the food resources to be adequate. She'd occasionally make contact with Pashto women; telling them that she was there to end the fighting; that she did not want to kill the men but if they did not stop, they would die.

In one conversation she had with the wife of the village elder, in her home, Katia gained a new understanding of the problems of the Afghanis. The opium was so big because it paid so well, and being poverty stricken, the villagers had to do it to survive. She explained to the woman that there was going to be an effort to help them develop other ways to provide for themselves. The woman, Anoosheh said that she knew that the opium was evil and it made her feel bad to see it grown there.

Her best tactic seemed to be to watch a village for movement after dark. She'd follow the night travelers to see where they were going. Usually if they headed toward a position of ambush, she'd just wait for them to set up. If she could see Western troops moving toward them, they would generally fire on the coalition troops once they'd moved into a position of ambush. As soon as that happened, she'd "Pop Gun" them.

Word began to spread of an unseen ambusher in the night.
Once, she'd just finished off a group of ambushers and turned to see several Americans watching her. She waved and dropped out of sight before they could do anything.

Her medic friend had tried to contact her several times but she never answered, figuring that her fellow Brits would find her and bring her in.

It took Katia a few more days, but she began to get the germ of an idea about how to end this conflict. The major problem, it seemed, was the huge amounts of money to be made selling poppies. It was much greater than any other crop the farmers could raise.

Katia knew that she could not single handedly dry up the Poppy market. She had heard that the Saudis' were trying to set up a deal to pump oil and gas from the North, but the Pashto were having none of it.

Now there was word that the West was again trying to get farmers to grow things other than opium. Katia was thrilled with the idea, but wondered if it would work. She was only one woman and to do what needed to be done would require hundreds of people like her. She wondered how she was changed and she found her memories of it confusing. Night after night such questioning was on the back channel of her brain, no matter what she was up to.

She'd sneaked into several villages and listened to the men talk. They complained about the invaders, and bemoaned their living conditions. The farmers were not so happy about growing poppies but to them it seemed the only chance they had.

One night, she had followed a huge caravan into Pakistan and had seen the contents loaded into many trucks. She slipped aboard one of them and rode it clear to Islamabad where it and several other trucks were parked in a warehouse there. She just sat there for a while, waiting to see what would happen next. It was quiet for quite some time so she slipped out and stole a freshly butchered goat and some fruit. In her case, it no longer mattered if it was cooked or not. She had her mission and that was it.

In the very early morning, she heard cars drive up and several men in western suits came in. She just sat there listening and was extremely surprised to find that two of the men spoke English very well, and were in fact Americans, or Canadians.

What she found out that day left her filled with rage, but she knew she could not kill enough of them to make a difference even if she killed 100 a day for a year. Katia just went crazy for a while and no one left there alive. She burned the warehouse and the trucks, but knew that it would be too little.

Katia must have blacked out because she became aware of being very hungry, and overcome with grief outside a city called Peshawar. Poor Katia did not know how long had passed, but she felt filthy and felt as if she could eat a horse whole. It was as if she was too tiny for this world. All the problems were too big for even her super human strength.
Malok was off in another galaxy at the time and did not know of her dire circumstances. He was unaware that humans could be overcome with grief and stress. Had he known, Katia would not have experienced what was to follow.

Katia felt even too discouraged to steal food or beg. A man came and offered her water, and she drank all he could give her. Katia had no way of knowing that her drink was laced with something to make her sleep. He was taken with her beauty and meant to sell her.

The next thing she knew was she was lying in the back of a wagon on top of bags filled with something, she didn't know what. She felt too weak to even move but did notice that her wrists and ankles were shackled. Again she slept.
She woke up in a tiny room with two other women watching her. She was still shackled. She felt feverish and weak because she had not eaten in days. It was hard to think and her head hurt so much. The women began to bathe her, washing her long hair and braiding it. She was given enough food for the average woman her size, but it was not nearly enough, and the lack of food kept her weak. Katia was aware of men loudly arguing but was too out of it to care.

Later, after a journey of indeterminate length, they stopped. Katia was awake enough to walk but found herself shrouded in something that blinded her nearly completely. Her ankles were free but her wrists were still shackled and had painfully raw and bleeding cuts from the restraints. She and two women were led into a hut built from rocks and wood. Once they sat down, Katia's Burqua was removed and she could look around for the first time. She could see that the women were just removing theirs too.

They wore Shalwar Kameez. Katia was naked. Katia thought that she heard that they were in a village about 100 miles up in the mountains from Moqor, called Shkin.

Several different men came in and raped her. Too weak and barely conscious, she just laid there. There on her back on the dirt in a dirty bug infested hut she learned that rape victims do not "enjoy it". Often her attackers would take her front and back and then put their filthy prongs in her throat. Thankfully, she lapsed into unconsciousness.

Later, she could hear the women talking quietly and quickly learned that she had been captured and was to be taken back to Qandahar. They expected her to be stoned to death as the Daughter of the Shatun. Katia was feeling considerably better, but knew she was too weak from the drugs and lack of food to cause any trouble.

The women had been giving her part of their food and water. " Khor (Sister), we know who you are and want to help you. We women know that you need vast quantities of food for strength".
Just after dark, the men started a fire, and one of the women was taken out to cook for them. Talking to the other woman, who said her name was Afia, Katia learned that both women were married to one of the men. Since the other wife, Sabeen, had cooked, then her husband Akmed would likely come to have sex with Afia after the meal.

Katia got the impression that Afia did not want to do it, and asked her.

"What can I do? He is my husband and before Allah SWT, I am bound to obey him."

"What if you say no?"

"I could never do that. He is my husband and if I do not obey, he will beat me.
But what does it matter, if he beats me? Then maybe I will die and it will be over. I will go to Jannah, perhaps.", she said sadly.

At that, rage began to build in Katia.

She decided that she needed to do something soon because they would be in Qandahar late in the evening.

"Afia, do you keep animals here?"

"Oh yes, there are goats kept in a pen at night, just outside."

Later, when the food was done, some was brought in to Katia and Afia to eat.
Afia said, " I know that what you were given is not enough to restore your strength, so you must eat mine, and when you have finished that, there is a bag of dates in the corner."
"I'll need lots of water, too. Thank you so much. I will try to make things easier for you if I live through the night." As yet, Katia was unaware that she could have put out a distress call to Malok since he was on his way back.

"You are going to do something tonight then"?

"Perhaps."

Katia, had to watch as the man Akmed followed Sabeen into the tent. He then raped Afia right in front of them, and after consuming opium fell into a stupor.
Katia waited for everyone to sleep and then got up quietly. The evening was already chilly but Katia was not going to bother trying to put anything on with shackles on her wrists. She still did not feel strong enough to break them. Afia had wrapped cloth around the connecting chain to keep it quiet.

By the time Katia slipped into the goat pen, she was shivering violently. The goats woke up and bleated plaintively for a moment or two then became quiet. As Katia lay there, one of the men came by and saw her lying with the goats.

"Silly bitch, now you lie with the goats, you must be of the jinn (Daemons)! The Shatun (Satan) will have you tomorrow when we send you to Jehenum (Hell) by stoning! Allah Akbar(God is Great)!" he said loudly.

His loud voice did not seem to disturb anyone and he passed out of sight around one of the other huts. He was apparently too stoned to realize that Katia could escape. Of course he had no idea how weak she was and being without clothing, well that was a problem, too.

Katia lay there for a few more moments, and then reached over and grabbed one of the goats by the throat.

"This is going to be really yucky" she said softly to herself.

The goat died quickly, only kicking for a moment. She began to eat the goat, even before it was completely dead. Katia slept, no longer cold. She had all that warm blood in her belly".

In the morning, she was awakened by one of the girls screaming. Sabeen ran out with barely a stitch on.

“Help, he is beating her to death with a club.”

Katia was on her feet immediately; rage fueling her body like never before. Inside, she gasped in shock as the man dealt the death blow to his wife.

"That will teach you not to help that evil jinn bitch"

"Hey pretty boy, come here."

He turned and beheld her blood covered body, and her insane smile. The husband had never seen Katia in action, though he'd heard the rumors. “After all“, he reasoned, “how could such a tiny girl, be a threat to him? Maybe he'd give her a good beating and then take her as wife?”

When the murderous husband swung at Katia, she simply grabbed the club and crushed it in her left hand. With her right, she grabbed his wrist and squeezed it enough to make him scream with pain. He stiffened with terror, knowing that his doom was imminent.

Katia was so angry, that she played with him like a cat plays with a mouse. The more she played, the more angry she got. Finally she skewered him low in the gut with his own sword, pinning him to the ground and driving it deeply into the earth so that he could not pull it out.

"There, you bastard. I hope it takes a week for you to die!"

With that Katia fell weeping to the earth floor. Sabeen tried to comfort her, but the shock of seeing Afia, Sabeen's wife sister beaten to death, made the grief take her too. A while later, Katia heard footsteps approaching the hut. She let the man walk in and then grasped his wrist hard enough to double him over in pain.

"Does he live or does he die, Sabeen!"

Sabeen looked at him for a minute, "Die, bastard!"

Katia quickly snapped his neck, the blood lust was upon her.
At one point, her rage was so great that she began to glow and lighting began to arc from her body to things around her. She floated off the ground several feet and started around the village.

Malok wakened because of the system overload alarm, and he quickly moved so he could see what his diminutive creation was doing.

“Good heavens, she has taken leave of her senses.”

In moments Katia would use all her reserve power and be easy prey to her enemies. Malok quickly brought his ship low enough to begin to beam power into Katia's rapidly weakening body. He actually chuckled as she wrought vengeance on her attackers. It took about an hour to clean up the village, not killing any of the men who did not deserve it.

When all the occupants of the village had been gathered, Katia stood up. She'd gotten some clothing from the other women and was now properly garbed, but sans Burqua. They'd scrubbed the blood from her in front of everyone else, letting them think that it was from the abusive men she had killed, and much of it was.

"If any of you men abuse your wives, I will hear of it and I will come and eat your flesh!"

(In Muslim culture, the eating of the flesh of another is particularly heinous) She said viscously. She cackled like a witch. This terrified everyone, including those who were in no danger from her. Her insane laughter was not put on.

Malok, looked on in interest, and reading her memory records, he was shocked at just how resourceful she had been while he was gone.

"Katia, this is Malok, the one who put you back together".

"What the hell, who are you? Am I talking to myself?" She was not speaking and she could not hear anything. It was all going on inside her head.

"No, I am in an exploration vehicle above you. Just look up and you can see me".

At first, Katia saw nothing but when she magnified her vision, and looked where she felt it was right, she saw a tiny speck floating a long way up there.

"OK, I see you. Where were you for the last few days you bastard? I nearly died!"

It was good that no one could hear the heated conversation that took place in the next dozen seconds. Katia actually felt like she won too. Malok agreed to keep much closer watch on her and to protect her when she needed it.

With that, she turned and walked to a secluded spot by the seasonal creek. She sat there for a long time. Sabeen joined her, sitting down quietly at her side. She noticed Katia trembling slightly. She reached over and put her arms around Katia.

That seemed to open her emotional flood gates and suddenly, she began to weep in great breathless sobs. She wept for the fallen sister, and for all the other women who had died at the hands of bad husbands, and criminals. Katia didn't notice other women from the village, some with babies begin to gather around her. Soon all were weeping for her, and for the fallen.

Katia managed to get herself together later that afternoon after sleeping. The villagers had sent for their Imam (loosely Preacher). He arrived after Katia had been bathed again and dressed by the grateful women of the village. She declined the Burqua, but did allow them to put a Hijab (hair covering; scarf) on her. Katia knew that by Western standards, it would be the height of indignity for a Western woman to wear the Burqua, which they saw as a symbol of slavery. However, it was part of the local custom and she wanted to engraciate herself to the other Women.

The Imam first went to meet the men, and after a short animated discussion, he came over to Katia and the rest of the women, who were now in Burquas.

He sat down in front of her, and she sat. "I am Imam, Touri. He said, "So, what will the little sister of the Jinn do, kill all the men in my country?"

"What are Jinn?"

"They are the angels of the Shatun, the evil one."

"Keep on in that vein, and you'll go on the meat pile".

"I am not afraid to die if Allah SWT (Subhana Walla T Allah)(literally, Glory to God) wills it."

Katia really did not want a long discussion about a religion that she knew nothing of.

"Look buddy, the man had just beaten his wife to death. What was I supposed to do?"

"It is not for women to avenge their sisters, Allah SWT does that."

She sensed that this was going nowhere.

"Look, I am not here to destroy your culture. The bastard had just kidnapped me from Pakistan and intended to take me to Kandahar to stone me to death". Along the way there was lots of recreational rape going on and I was it.

"Your sins against Afghanistan and Allah SWT are many."

"Look, I intend to stop the opium trade, stop the violence against women and fight corruption where I find it. You can either get on board or not. If you attack me, I will send you to your Allah SWT to complain."

"You say much for a tiny little girl."

Katia reached over and picked up a piece of fire wood. It was still a little green. Still looking at Imam Touri, she used one hand to crush it into saw dust.

"And that is with my weak hand."

She exhaled through her nose with such force that her nose flared alarmingly and with Malok watching, he quickly made her eyes glow red, just for the fun of it.

She could see the fear in the man's eyes.

“People speak about not being afraid to die; most lie.” She said.

"I don't know what happened. I was on a patrol, and people started shooting at us and the next thing I know I am in this wet dream of a body. Maybe it was your Allah SWT who changed me to avenge the innocent?"

"Well, it could be the Shatun who did it?"

Katia was shocked! This man seemed to turn everything back on her. She knew that she intended only good, and he was mocking her!

"What do you know, you probably don't even know who your Allah is? Here I am trying to help make things better and you mock me?"

Katia burst into tears. She couldn't talk because of the force of her great sobs.

"The little sister has the heart of a warrior but the maturity of a girl." he said.

"Well, what do you think I am? I got put in this situation and whoever did this to me made me a teenager to boot. How am I supposed to deal with this Mr. Know it all?"

"Be calm little one, I mean you no harm."

"What do you mean by that? You bloody well allowed your men to nearly kill me!" She shrieked.

"I am sorry for your pain little one, and if you tell the truth, your intention is honorable; pleasing to Allah SWT. What you try to do is not for woman. You should be in your house, protected and cared for by a good husband. Woman is too fragile and valuable for what you do."

"Well, you should tell that to all this pond life here. They treat women in the most despicable manner!"

Katia was impressed by this man's gentle speech. "What is your name?"

"I am Imam Mamadou Toure", what is yours?"

"Katia, but I started all this business as Leftenant Frank Grace, I was a British Soldier."

"There is the tradition of mysticism in the Sufi way, what happened to you?"

"We were engaged in an exchange of fire from hostiles; planning on having air support once we'd fully drawn them out, and suddenly the hill in front of me just exploded, and I was blown apart moments later."

"Yes, I heard of this battle. Many of the fighters died there."

"You sound as though they were heroes!"

"Those men were fighting for their way of life. Before the invading westerners, there were the Russians."
"What are you talking about? None of us came over here to ruin your country! It was my intention to help make life better until I was killed. I can't stand you, leave me alone!"

That was pretty much it for Katia for the rest of the day. The women kept her fed, and bedded her down that night. The next morning an egg sized pellet and a little blood laid near her.

"Geeze, I should have known it was just PMS!" She screamed as loud as she could and then started bawling.

Later that day, a much subdued Katia, left the village to search for vermin. She'd worn the Burqua until she got out of sight, so she could avoid the Imam, and took it off; putting it in her recovered day pack. She did not want to kill him, and something stopped her from wanting to fight with him.

The Shalwar Kameez was pretty comfortable. Her beloved "Pop Gun" was gone, but one of the sisters insisted that the dead husband had it when they left Pakistan.

"Malok, do you know what they've done with my weapon?"

"Yes, Katia it is over the ridge on your right. I will watch you as you search for it, and reclaim it."

"Thanks, Malok."

“You are welcome child”.

“Don’t you call me a child, you know better”.

Malok frowned in irritation, but decided not to confront her just then.

Just before she crested the ridge, a number of powerful explosions rocked the ground. On the other side and down a few yards was one of the village men shooting at bushes and rocks on the other side.

She snuck down to just behind him. "That's mine buddy. Give it back!"

He jumped free, almost taking the gun with him, but Katia hung on with a vengeance. He flopped on the ground, and turned around to face her.

"Such things are men only, not for women!"

He looked at her as if she were some errant child. "Give it to me child woman!"

Katia was set back, and felt so contrite that she almost did give it to him.

"Such things are not for you, little girl. You will get hurt."

"But it is mine, and was made for me!" She said hotly, her eyes beginning to tear up. Katia was emotionally exhausted and needed to be gotten to a place to rest.

"Give it to me, before you are injured. I do not want to answer to Allah SWT for allowing you to injure yourself!" His voice was so kind, but Katia could see that he was not giving up.

"I have to go. I can't obey you. You don't understand. I'm sorry." Katia turned and fled.

"Malok, can you fix this gun so no one but me can fire it?"

"That is a very good Idea, I will do it now."

The look of the man’s eyes and the concern in his voice stayed with her as she half heartedly hunted Taliban for the next several days as she made her way down out of the mountains. Along the way she found that she could eat the leaves from trees and much of the vegetation, thus decreasing her dependence upon meat.

Later, she sat on a ridge watching, and thinking. The deeper she got into all this, the harder it was for Katia to see clearly who the enemy was. On one hand, the Taliban did awful things to anyone who opposed them. They persecuted women in the most despicable manner. Yet, the women and some of the men she talked to said that they were trying to survive, and only grew and sold the evil weed out of desperation.

On her third day out, she found men sitting before a tiny fire in front of a well concealed cave. Katia carefully crept up as close as she could without being discovered. She could just hear them talking. It sounded as if there was a group coming to exchange opium for mortar rounds. Sure enough, just before dark, she could hear movement in the ravine below.

Shortly men with a half dozen mules came into sight below. She waited for all the men to gather and begin exchanging goods, and opened fire. It did not take long and all there was carnage. She looked around and found that there were half a dozen huge caves in the ravine. Katia got as far away as she could and shot one of the caves. That was followed by several huge explosions that knocked her to the ground. As she got up, she could see smoke coming from the other side of the next ridge, so she ran over there as fast as she could. Looking down, she realized that one of the caves went clear through the mountain, and looking up the valley, she could see dozens of Men fleeing. They were too far away to catch but she shot at them until she could see no more movement. It took Katia almost an hour to get over to where she'd seen the men fleeing and where she found no one alive.

This was too big. She had to try to contact the British forces. She managed to collect some food and water from the dead bodies and began walking toward Qandahar, hoping that she would encounter western forces along the way.

As she was coming out onto the dry plain from the mountains, she encountered a helicopter, and waved at it. They turned slightly but did not land. All she could do was hope that they'd send a patrol.

Katia walked to a rise on the other side of a dry river bed and sat down. She sat there the rest of the day. During the night, she heard foot movement down below and looked to see about 50 men moving up the river bed. They were not western troops and looked like they could be Taliban but without more certainty, she decided not to shoot them, but instead followed along behind them at distance.

About half an hour later, she heard shooting, including what she thought was mortar fire. It took her about a minute to come upon the scene. It looked like the Taliban were about to over run a group of about a dozen vehicles. From her position behind, she found an elevated ridge and began to systematically shoot. It did not take too long before the Taliban realized that there was a second front and they began to fade away into the night, to attack her as they closed on her position.

They were getting way too close for her, so she simply held the trigger down and began to plow up the desert. Though she did not know how, as her desperation grew, the explosive force of the rounds became magnified. Shortly, she realized that she could easily vary the power of the rounds just by thinking about it.
At dawn, in the aftermath, she worked her way up to the place where the vehicles were circled up. Katia made lots of noise while approaching. She certainly did not want the soldiers shooting at her.

The scene was one of utter desolation. She could see several unmoving bodies bearing American flags on their shoulders. Not being a medic, all Katia could really do was roll them over and try to waken them. She felt as if she were being watched and looked around. There, under one of the trucks, the muzzle of a rifle pointed out. Katia knew that whoever was holding that gun could shoot her at any moment.

"Please, don't shoot. I am a British soldier working undercover. I am just trying to get back to my base. With that, the muzzle drooped a little and she could hear a female weeping, or it sounded like it. She cautiously made her way over to the soldier under the truck.

"Hey, it's OK now, the British have arrived to save you." Katia said, trying to lighten the mood somewhat. She knew that whoever remained alive, they were likely to be right on the edge of hysteria.

Finally she managed to coax the soldier out and "He" told her that they'd been overrun by Taliban about mid day and they were about to finish his unit off when all hell broke loose out behind the advancing enemy. The poor kid had only been in Afghanistan for three days. He was infantry.

I looked around and managed to find one working radio but had no signal. So they eventually got one of the vehicles running, but it smoked a lot. Katia was no mechanic, and the Private was not much better.

They found four other soldiers who were unconscious but alive. They stopped the bleeding and made sure they were breathing. When the vehicle was running, they loaded the wounded and headed back to base. The kid was useful in that he at least knew how to find the base.

With the young private driving, Katia sat in the roof top gun mount, and kept watch. They were no more than a mile down the road when she spotted movement in the rear, and a puff of smoke. Only her quick reflexes and her little "Pop Gun" saved them. An RPG had been launched at them. After that, she hosed down the desert to the rear, … um … LIBERALLY!

She didn't pay any attention to the time. She just kept watch and "Popped" anything that looked suspicious. About every half hour, the Private would try the radio. As she scanned the surrounding landscape, Katia realized that she thought differently than she used to. She still had all of Frank's memories but did things like check out the private as a mate, think about the flowers back home and wish she had a bit of "Chokie" Ice Cream.

Within minutes of making radio contact, two buzzing little helicopters swept past them. "Ah, here are the Kiowas", yelled the private. The rest of the trip back to base felt rather uneventful.

Katia was wearing no uniform, and at first the Americans wanted to disarm her. At the first hand reaching for her weapon after she said, NO! She simply grasped his wrist and convinced him that she would remove his hand if he kept it up.

"Look boys, I am British undercover, I brought five of your blokes home, and if you would kindly feed me, I will be on my way."

The American, Captain John Blake, a 45 year old Army career soldier, wasn't giving in that easily, so she simply blew a hole in the floor between them. The whole room was full of dust and smoke for several seconds, and when it cleared Katia was gone. When they found her, she was sitting in the Mess in the corner, with her back to the wall munching on enough food to for a squad.
The Captain looked into the room and quietly went back to his office. A while later he came back and walked up to her in his least aggressive manner.

“I have spoken to the British, and they say you could be Lt Katia. Is this correct?”

"Yes sir, I am Lt Katia Grace, in her Majesty's Service."

"They speak of some strange happenings and then you've been out slaughtering the enemy since".

"Well sir, I have been trying but it is difficult for a little girl." Her smile made her look more like a predator than a lover. "I am so tired and even with all the killing I have done, the problem does not seem to lessen. It is as if I am useless".

"You look an awful lot like my daughter back home Lieutenant."

"Why thank you sir. I am sure that she is quite charming, and even though I was physically 25 years old, my mind works like that of a teen aged girl now. Somehow, I know that whoever reconstructed me, made me 16 instead. It is so hard and I don't know how to keep doing it ... I can't keep doing it!" she shouted and then fell to the floor sobbing as hard as anyone he'd ever witnessed.

With that he stepped out to the door. "Get me Sergeant Michel, right now!"

He'd gotten Katia up off the floor and she was hanging limp on his shoulder, sobbing in great gasps; the tears streaming down her face in torrents.
Sergeant Michael was there in just a few minutes. Sergeant Catherine Michel, was a single mom trying to get Triplets through college. The other women in the unit and a very select few men privately called her 'Mom". Her 4 year enlistment would be up in several months.
There was a knock at the Captain's door, and then it opened.

" Sir, you asked ..." He pointed at Katia.

With that, she rushed to her side and began to talk to Katia. "Hi sweetie, I'm Cathy, and I am here to help you . Can you speak English?"

"Cathy, this Lt Katia Grace, and she is in the British Army. Perhaps you have heard the rumors?" Captain Blake said. Cathy nodded; she had.

*********************************************************************************

Katia and Cathy sat in a quiet room with a plain military bed, a chair and a small desk. Katia was on the bed, leaning against the wall, and Cathy sat in the chair. Though Cathy had a hard time believing the tale that the teen ager had related to her, the Captain told her that in all likelihood her story was true.

The British had told the American captain that the young woman could demolish the entire camp if she chose, and to absolutely NOT try to disarm her.

"I am stating this in the most emphatic terms Captain. She can be extremely dangerous when provoked. Fortunately for us, she seems to have a blood lust for the Taliban and opium traffickers. They were calling her the Daughter of the Shatun, but after some sort of incident in the mountains, now she is called the Angel of Death or by the women, Daughter of Vengeance.
The American Captain agreed to let her rest, feed her, and allow her to go on her way when she chose.

"So, General, you don't necessarily want her back?" The Captain asked.

"Good heavens man, she is a bloody force of nature. I leave her alone unless she asks for something. Mean while we have arranged for her salary to go into her checking account. As dangerous as she seems to be, so far it is focused only on our enemies."

Cathy persuaded Katia to take a sleeping pill after she ate. The teenager seemed to have developed some trust in Cathy. She got an orderly to bring another cot into that little room so she could watch over Katia. Malok, of course watched closely to monitor the effect of the sedative on Katia and it turned out to be nil. Her metabolism was too strong for it. Still, he had ways of calming her and extended her sleep to 10 hours. Her body had no need for it but her human brain was proving to not be as resilient as he’d thought.

Katia slept late the next morning, and she seemed much cheered by the rest. Cathy took Katia over to the mess so they could eat together. Katia had needed another woman in her life and didn't realize it. How could she, this whole thing was new to her.

Cathy took Katia and looked around in the stores and in the PX. Cathy warned the young woman that in spite of the fact that her breasts did not sag yet, they would if she did not use adequate support. Well, there was no need to worry; there were no bras on the base. Beside neither woman knew of Katia’s specially supported breasts.

Thinking back, Katia doubted that her's would ever sag but decided not to argue. Still, Katia preferred the Salwar Kameez like garb, and no one was willing to argue that with her.

Katia stayed to rest her traumatized mind for a few days and began to think about the kind man she'd met in that village in the desert. Cathy and she talked a lot and gradually Katia began to feel more normal.

Eventually, in the night, with as much food as she could carry she started back to that village. This time she had a GPS and a satellite phone too. "Well, I think I like the Americans better, they aren‘t so bad. Maybe, I'll work for them." She mused.

"Katia, can you hear me"?

"Malok, you know I can, so what do you want"?

"Katia, I think you are still too tired to return to battle".

"Yeah, well do you think I have a choice? My command is certainly not going to allow me to go home like this".

"Katia, I am going to take you home to your country and when you think you are rested enough to come back here, you can tell me". Before she knew it, Katia was sitting in a seat in Malok's exploration vessel, and they were speeding toward the UK.

Suitably shocked, Katia just sat there without saying anything for a few minutes.

"I'll have you home in a half hour child."

"How fast are we going anyhow?"

"Oh slightly less than your "Mach 15".

"So, Malok, how come no one sees you and you do not have our fighters chasing you all over the sky?"

"Oh we have ways of bending light. It is an old idea that works very well."

"You mean I am going to get to see Mummy? Oh my God, Father will be completely overcome with it all."

"OK, Katia dear, I am going to place you just at your parent’s home. Do tell me when you are ready to come back."

At first Katia had been thinking of a few days but as her country and then Worcester hove into view, she thought that she would like longer.

"Mayn't I have a fortnight or even two?"

"Yes dear, you may have two fortnights, because when you go back, your assignment will be much different. You have seen enough pain. Now that I understand the problems, I am going to put you to helping to develop some other sources of income for the Afghan People"

"Oh, thank you so much Malok."
With that, Malok brought his ship swiftly in over her house and let her off in front of her childhood home.

To Be Continued Thanks Holly for all your editing help.

*Photo credit: David Guttenfelder/ AP