.Marine.
Legacy Name: .Marine.

That was the one word that described my life up to that moment. My life was a repetitive, dull tedium. I grew up in an average home where I lived with my mother, father and younger brother. My parents made an average salary; they were neither rich nor poor. I was schooled at a regular school, had a handful of friends and was your basic, overly-dramatic teenager.

Eventually, I entered an average university and studied to become a doctor. I had a normal boyfriend over a medium length of time and we broke up over a trivial reason. I graduated with PhD and joined a small clinic in my ocean-side town, where I handled normal, everyday injuries.

There were no maimings by wild animals, no terrifying wounds inflicted by raging berserkers. There were no bizarre diseases that scoured the land, absolutely nothing to inspire a young doctor to explore her abilities to the fullest.

Boring.

It may sound excessively morbid, but setting splints and bandaging flesh wounds day after day grew tedious. I grew more acidic with each normal birth, more jaded with each petty cold. My partners began to take my cases from me, insisting that I take a vacation to cool my head and remember why I became a doctor.

They were idiots. I remembered why I became a physician; I wanted to thrill every time I stitched a mortal wound. I wanted the adrenaline coursing through my veins as I injected an antivenin into my suffering patient. I wanted to feel as I imbued my patients with life and pulled them from the brink of death. I wanted everything I did to be touched with a wisp of danger and fear.

That would not happen. Not in the small, meek town where I had grown and lived.

It was that day. Forced from the clinic when one particular patient had taken offense to my wicked tongue and less than pleasing bedside manner, I reclined on the gentle slopes that dropped slowly to the sea. It was not my fault that the child was so careless that he split his knee on the rock and needed stitches. Very well, I concede that I could have used something to dull the pain, but truly, he would be less lackadaisical in the future because of the experience.

This was all beside the point, though. I watched the gentle swells and listened to the raucous cries of the gulls as they careened and soared on the breeze. The day was calm and silent. Boredom permeated my being - slow, cold boredom. I snorted at the thought of another quiet day in this retched village and scanned the horizon.

After an hour or so, I spotted white sails closing in on our island. They rippled slowly in the wind, and it was then that I realized that the carrack was badly damaged and fairly hobbled towards port. I stiffened as I smelt the burnt wood and saw the damaged mast. Damage like that indicated a fierce battle, which would naturally lead to wounds.

I was at the dock with my doctor's bag in hand when the ship's crew finally heaved their anchor over and called down to the mayor, who glowered angrily at their captain.

I never suspected that the ship would be that of a pirate crew. I recognized the Jolly Roger, as did the mayor, considering the behaviour that he exhibited towards the captain who snarled and shouted back. I'm sure anyone on the ocean would recognize her symbol. The red phoenix, wings spread, crouched over an ivory skull on a black field was unique to Suzaku alone.

No gangplank was lowered, and no villager made a move to help those onboard. After five minutes of listening to the old man shout at the obviously battered woman, I'd had enough. Striding forward, I grasped a line that dangled close to the dock and scaled the side. Leaping nimbly onto the deck, I was met with a sword at my throat. The man looked as weary as his captain, blood pooling from a wound in his side, but stood protectively in front of an unconscious girl.

"I'm a doctor," I intoned frostily. "Move."

He twitched and seemed to consider something before moving aside. I could hear the distraught cries of the mayor as he berated me for my stupidity, but I ignored them for more pressing matters. The girl who lay prone on the deck was mortally wounded. It didn't take a doctor to figure out that much, seeing as she had been nearly disemboweled by some unknown opponent.

"Can you save her?"

I glanced up, taking in the blonde woman cloaked in red. "I can't make any promises."

"Try," was Suzaku's simple reply.

"I will."

And I did. I worked feverishly, adrenaline coursing through me as I searched for interior organ damage and then sealed the wound with precise stitching, carefully binding the lesion closed. I finished and looked at one of the crew, an uninjured girl with platinum hair drawn up into a ponytail. "You. Take her to a bed to rest."

She jumped at the sharp order, her face displaying her shock at the abrupt and demanding tone of my voice. A small nod from the Captain and she gave a quick whistle that brought a short-haired blonde from the Crow's nest. The two stooped and cradled the now healing girl between them, disappearing into the depths of the ship.

"And now, Mr. Swordsman, it is your turn."

"Anaesthetic?" he asked pitifully.

I sneered and threaded my needle. "Suck it up, pirate."

I was, of course, exiled from my village for 'aiding those vile beings'. But considering the offer I got from Suzaku to join her crew, try to keep them alive, and escape the boredom that was my life, I'm fine with the outcome of it all. Even if most of the crew cowers in fear when I pull the needle from my bag and thread it with the thick, black thread, I will probably always appreciate that moment when I first saw the black flag fluttering above those pure white sails.

Meeca: The Captain
So, what? Pretty people can't be good doctors? Or that good doctors are ugly beasts? Just what is the point you are trying to convey, Captain? Please tell me. And remember, I tend your wounds.

Xian Zhu: The First Mate
With the amount and severity of wounds this crew accumulates, your statement of imminent death is highly probable. If I recall correctly, you were bleeding heavily when we first met... and cried like a child when I stitched you up.

Kai-Ryu: The Warrior
The only one on the crew who doesn't even flinch when I come close with my doctor's bag. You are my favorite patient. Although, I guess the downside for you is I never know when I'm pushing your pain limit too far. A wince once in a while won't break your chiseled jaw, dragon.

Ryoumei: The Bosun
Just think of the pain as building character, bosun. Besides, if I used our supply of anaesthetic on something as trivial as a flesh wound that needs a few stitches, where would you be when you really needed it?

Dell Wright: The Shipwright
As you wish, lowlife. I'm up for a game of doctor. You be the patient. And I'll be the surgeon. Just let me grab my scalpel.

Aimee: The Cannoneer
You only ever seem to visit me when you get a splinter. Why is that? Perhaps because splinters only require a pair of tweezers and not the needle that everyone cringes from.

Coyote Frost: The Sharpshooter
First, I treated you for hypothermia followed by a severe case of pneumonia. Then, you jumped off a cliff and I had to set the bones in both your legs. AND THEN, every time you walk into my room, you have a new bullet wound. Good god, woman, never change.

Blaze: The Berserker
Our first meeting occurred when you had been disemboweled. You were my first thrill in five years. You were the one being who made me happy to be doctor. If I loved anybody, I'd probably love you, berserker.

Skoli: The Informant
I swear to whatever god you pray to, snitch, if you don't sit still so I can give you these stitches, I will have Kai come and sit on you while I do it. And he is not a featherweight. It'll hurt less if you'd just... stop... SQUIRMING.

Tara: The Navigator
You know, I'm all for being able to pick whatever medicinal herb I need without having to find land and a suitable place where it might grow, but the pretty flowers and budding fruit kind of throws off the "evil pirate" image. Not sure how I feel about that.

Aria: The Cook
How is it that when you experiment, the smell of the food makes the crew sick as a dog, but when we actually eat the rank piles of mush, not one person makes their way to my room. Either your food is actually edible, or I've scared my dominance into them.

Chloe: The Apprentice
You first trip into my room left you in tears. Your second trip had me staring into the emotionless glare of Kai as I treated your wounds. Your third trip had the whole crew at the door watching me "be nice". I'm not fond of your visits.

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Seiryuu