Lesson number 9

                The good thing about being on a mission is that you don't have time to slow down and think. No matter how unbelievable the last 10 minutes may have been, the task at hand needs to be completed before you can take measure of the things you've seen. If your companions die, grieve for them after the action, finish your goal, just don't let them die in vain. I used to wonder how my uncle could just pick me up and run away from the rest of the family, leaving them behind.

          As I grew older I had to learn the hard way; you can't save everyone. So I've come away from that focusing on who I can rescue; and vowing to make my enemies pay back every drop of blood spilt, with interest.

          So watching my dad walk out of my life, and into certain death, just strengthen my determination.

          "Marla, that was the former Governor of Isle." I turned to face her. "Is our package ready?"

          Her mouth still hung open from her earlier inquiry. "Uh, yeah," she replied with a visible shake. "Lancer's guy, Maximillian Von Tummy, was able to find the assassin's physical location, catch him and interrogate him. He's being held at the maximum security facility in sector 73. Von Tom says he can get us in sneaky style, but I told him to focus on getting us structural plans on the building, we'd do the rest. He didn't seem to care about it one way or the other. I told him to expect a call at the restaurant you specified."

          "Good." I tapped my wrist, activating my communicator, "Time to go with the flow." Having given the order to initiate phase two of the mission, I lead the way out.

*                  *                  *

          "We are in queue for planet landing in three quarts." Trevor calls out from his console. "The Cloud Nine Tour alias was accepted. That cruise ship seems to have successfully stymied our capture of the Hawkins heir. There is news that Henry Hawkins has cut his vacation short and is en route to Cuvette Petit, where the cruise is scheduled to disembark."

          "So only father dearest knows something is up. Thankfully his pride wouldn't let Hawkins put a price on my head. He likes keeping things personal. Even if he finds out we have his boy, he won't know where we are. The second assassin wouldn't expect us to go to the first, so we should be in the clear on Chimera Moon."

          Marla and Jean-Pierre undo the straps securing them in place, then head off to collect their gear. April, at the console next to Trevor, pulls a container off the ground.

          I disconnected myself from my amended dentist chair. "Crew Status?"

          "May and June are prepping the Instruments. Ralph is setting the escape, and back up plans in place. Mad Max is contacting the blokes we were scheduled to pick up next. Dr. Tuan is prepping surgery, he said he's familiar enough with the questioning procedures of most corporations, that he wants to be completely prepared."

          "And how are our guests?"

          "Geoffrey an Horace are in the gym, working off steam. Oh, boss lady, the old man said to give this to you and ask that you meet him in the gym." She lobbed the small object through the air. I caught it easily, and began to open it.

          "Wait," April continued "until you get there, he said."

*                  *                  *

          From the hallway in front of the training room I could hear the sounds of rigorous practice. The doors parted to reveal young Hawkins, back to the door, following the same drills I did as a youth. He stood feet apart, arms raised, knife held blade down in his left hand. He made a series of slashes, turning his wrist as he did. The knife, the same blade Geoffrey had presented for his oath, had stylized hooks along the back edge; when twisted in flesh, the hooks had a tendency to pull and twist whatever tissue was nearby. Horace continued his routines, focusing all his attention on his movements and balance. I walked across the room to where the elder gentleman stood watching.

          "Has he been training long?" I asked.

          "No, and yes. I've just given him the Söz knife and shown him two techniques this morning. However, his father, and bodyguards have been teaching him various fighting styles over the years."

          "Is he good?"

          "He is mediocre." Until now, we'd been watching the lad, but now Geoffrey turned to me. "His skill has been limited by his training, which was undisciplined and sloppy." His face contorted on the last word as though the very memory of those previous training sessions left a foul taste in his mouth. " I was hoping, that along with his history lessons, you'd consider fighting lessons as well."

          "I'll think it over. I've always had a crew that could handle themselves, so I've never taught anyone anything. The way things stand now, we don't even know how much time we have before..." I trailed off as I wondered how to word killing Horace's father.

          "Yes, well, I shall see to whatever I can for the boy." He quickly filled in the gap. "I know you have many things to set right." He smiled softly.

          "I, and my crew, will help however we can. Just don't expect a proper schedule, or anything like that."

          "Of course, my lady. If you have a few moments, I'd like to start now?" I nodded yes and we walked over to face Horace.

          "Your blades, for a moment, please." Geoffrey asked of the boy and myself. We complied and handed them over.

          He held up, side by side, so that the raised edge of one fit into the engraved lines of the other. "These two blades were forged to work in concert. One is for attack, and the other for defense. Together there is almost no battle that can be won against the person who wields these, if they can handle them properly.:

          "Uh, why did you say almost?" Horace asked.

          Geoffrey then flipped the knives with a nice little flourish, and presented them, hilt out, to the boy. "Because there are three ways to finish a battle. Win, loose, or offer peace. Likewise there are three kinds of people in life. There are weapons," he handed my knife back to me, "there are shields," he then handed one to Horace, "and there is the olive branch."