John didn't like those diplomatic Surbius missions had assigned him to at all. First of all, he hated that he couldn't attack them the moment he laid his eyes on them. Second, he was not sure if Hortan was able to cope with this kind of work. No matter now, he would have to brood about this later. Now it was Krav Maga, and the slender figure in front of him. He was making ready to defend and counterattack with a lock or two. He would not attack in full force, he was much stronger, and he could punch her right across the room. He feigned an attack with his right fist against the head and was instantly locked. The twin "nose" punches that Chi put on his forehead confused him greatly, the elbow in the chest was textbook and took his breath away, and when she tossed her arm forward and connected with the inner thigh on his right leg, he knew he was defeated. They were only sparring, in a real situation, he would now be on the floor with a broken nose and a groin on fire.
She pulled back and grinned at him.
"What the, have you been practising without me? Don't tell, you have been training with Hortan, right?" he smiled as he realised how good Hort must be if he could improve Chi that much.
Chi stopped and frowned at him. "Well, not really John." She opened her hands in defensive posture. "I may have kept something from you." She struck again, this time moving forwards, and then when John responded, she tipped her torso back and swung her leg forwards to connect lightly with his right inner thigh. Getting him again, she retreated out of his reach.
"It was never Hortan, was it?" The truth dawned on John. It had been the other Krav Maga master at this station. He slapped himself on his forehead. "Points for not seeing the obvious. It was you, right? And you let him take the fame while keeping low. Ha, and I fell for it." She moved right and low, and went for a punch with her right hand to his knee, followed by the left elbow in his chest. She never got so far. Once she got inside his reach, he side stepped and jabbed her twice in the kidney region before slapping down on her knee, forcing her to loose balance and drop to the floor. He landed his body on top of hers. His elbows would have dug deep in her abdomen if it had been for real, now he merely landed on his arms. "Gotcha," he said.
They untangled and smiled at each other. It had been a good workout, both giving and taking, both exploring new options.
"So, are you going to deliver Ardon to yoda?" Chi asked.
"No, apparently they are leaving that to Hortan. As if he doesn't have enough on his conscience already. Lambin, Vardonx and me are going to escort him to Latos, but he is going to do the handover himself." John got his kit bag. "Thank you for the workout Ms. Chi. It was a pleasure as always. Don't worry, I won't tell about the incident with Hort if you promise to train again tomorrow." He winked at her.
"Extortionist, I always knew you were a shady character. Ok then. Tomorrow, same time?"
He nodded in reply and went to change into his flightsuit.
Vardonx was slowly painting the name of Hortans ship on the side below the canopy of his Atlas with an airbrush when Lambin came into the dock. He had checked his own ship completely hours ago, and was now putting finishing touches on the side of Hortan's. There, almost ready now. Lambin walked over and looked at the pin-up girl wearing a TGFT propeller cap and not much else. She had covered the most intimate parts of her body with a stylised TGFT logo, and the name The Certain Death IX was painted below.
"Nice one Var, one of the best you have done so far." Vardons didn't reply, but merely nodded is thanks. He was deeply concentrated on painting small bottles around the name. Lambin had persuaded Vardonx to paint his X-1 in shades of green, mottled to look like ancient reptile skin, and even at a somewhat steep price; he had agreed to running naked through the messhall wearing only Ecka's tartan cloth over his head for cover. Ecka never found out who had done it, and Lambin wished for matters to stay that way.
Lambin checked his X-1, and settled in for the wait. Wouldn't be long now before they would be going.
It slowly dawned upon Hortan, that he was going to have to go back to CLM HQ again. He was thrilled and terrified. Mostly the later, since his dealing with CLM had so far mostly been "detect, run, get boomed". And he was not really all that keen on being the ambassador to CLM. On the other hand, if he was lucky he would be escorted again. He blushed.
"....utmost importance tae tell." Ecka looked at Hortan. "Dammit son, are ye even listening? Forget it then, just take the cargo and deliver it in person tae yoda. What is it with ya young uns these days? Is it testosterone week or something? I caught Mor singing this morning, can ye imagine that, singing? Twas bloody horrible too, and he had the absent face that ye do now. What is the guild coming tae." He grabbed his bottle and poured a dram, deciding that it was not enough, and poured some more. He looked at Hortan. "Well, what are ye waiting for? Get a move on now."
Hortan scuttled out of the room, and went by the cargo handlers to sign for the box he was supposed to deliver. It had already been loaded in his Atlas, and it was waiting for him in the launch bay with John, Vardonx and Lambin. At least they were there to protect him. He met Waldoze and Buzz on the way down there, they were also headed for the bay.
"So Hort, are you going to do the delivery?" Waldoze asked.
"Yep, it is expected I think, so I better do it. And where are you headed off to?"
"Just making sure some old debts are paid. Nothing to it, will only take a couple of hours I think." Buzz grinned like a madman and punched Waldoze lightly on the shoulder. "Only stepping in for a snack or two." They both laughed, and sent a bewildered Hortan away to the merchants launch bay while they moved to the combat wing.
The crate had already been loaded, and Hortan walked up to his ship. His escort was standing in by the side, below the canopy. Hortan raised his hand in greeting, and Vardonx stepped one step forwards.
"Hort, old swinger. The three of us have decided to make your ship more worthy of a TGFT diplomat. We want you to represent us, and so we have decided to spice your Atlas up a bit."
Hortan swallowed hard as they stood aside and showed the pin-up on the side. It. Was. Beautiful. How they had found a picture of His Queen, he would never find out he reckoned, but it was beautiful. He realised he was supposed to say something. It was difficult, his heart was thumping like he had been running a mile.
"I, ehm, what?, ah. Thank you guys. It is the best ever. How did you get a picture of My Queen? I mean, she is absolutely gorgeous."
Vardonx frowned, he had not used a picture of The Huntress, he had merely used his imagination of how he thought that pirate wench Hortan had thought about would look like. He had not tried to make a painting of The Huntress, but if Hortan was happy, he was happy too.
"I am glad you like it," Vardonx said. "I think I may have overdone it with the bottles, but it is kinda neat."
Lambin clapped Hortan on the shoulder and led him to The Certain Death IX. "Lets go then, ok? Back home in time for beers in the mess hall."
