---Reevaluation---
---Shí Dǎo Yuán’s perspective---
I walk through the corridor of my pupil’s dorm, my weighted vambraces resting against my lower back.
I bring an arm in front of me and wave as I approach the door.
A tone sounds from within, alerting the occupant to my presence.
A few moments pass before, more than a head above mine, a pale skinned face appears from behind the sliding door.
Visibly confounded, my pupil just stands there, staring blankly down at me, for a moment before observing “It’s you.” simply.
“Indeed it is, Túdì Míng…” I answer.
“Can I… help you with somethin’?” he asks splaying his hands.
“Yes… May I enter? I wish to talk with you, Míng.”
He frowns but stands aside, turning to walk back into his room.
He gestures vaguely to an armchair that faces in the direction of an enormous, dark furred, six legged predator, occupying the space where a bed ought to be.
I lower myself down to the seat and my pupil collapses down to the floor against his pet.
He cut’s a rather villainous looking figure in the dimly lit room, using one of the galaxy’s most fearsome predators as a reclining seatback(!)
He gesture’s vaguely at me with the same hand he used to fracture my left scapula, recently… while he was not himself…
“What’s this about?” he asks, managing to keep a sneer off his face and out of his voice.
“I… have come to apologise, Míng.” I state.
Cocking a copper eyebrow over a bright green eye, he prompts “Oh yeah?”
“Yes. I was wrong.”
Folding his arms and appraising me sceptically, the large man enquires “And what’s brought this on?”
“I can’t simply have honestly and spontaneously reevaluated and reconsidered my actions?” I smile, calmly.
Unimpressed, the man flatly answers “Shīfu… You’re a serious contender for the cockiest, smuggest, most arrogant son of a bitch in the galaxy! I somehow doubt this was spontaneous…”
“Alright, Míng…” I concede “…this was induced by something.”
“And what’s that?”
I sigh “It was at the prompting of my therapist.”
He sits up, a look of mild alarm on his face as he asks “Ally told you to come here?”
“No…” I refute “…her husband is my therapist.”
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“Oh… right…” he answers, relaxing slightly “…Still! Bit surprised you see a therapist at all. So, what did Marc tell you, if you’re OK with me askin’?”
“He didn’t ‘tell’ me anything so much as he led me to see something…”
“Right! Yeah… Therapist magic(!)” he quips, waving his hands in a parody of the metaphysical “So what he ‘lead you to see’ then?”
“That I was wrong to equate the absence of self, which you experienced and with which you and Fāng bested me, with detachment… That I was wrong to view attempting to emulate it as desirable… That you are a better fighter when you are yourself. Maybe not in your ability to defeat your opponent but certainly in your ability to discern who is an opponent and how much violence is required to subdue them… That I allowed myself to become so fascinated with the aptitude you demonstrated when in such condition that I ignored both your feelings on the matter as well as the incredible value you have when fighting as yourself… And, finally, that I could permanently sour a relationship with a valued pupil if I did not act to make amends.” I answer, sincerely, meeting his bright jade green eyes throughout.
“Right… sooo… all the same stuff I said when we argued origin’ly then?” he observes.
“Yes.” I confirm.
The simplicity of my answer causes the large man to chuckle in amusement before he sighs, his hand moving to between the ears of his companion animal and scratching idly.
Finally, he responds “Yeah… I know the feelin’… being told somethin’ a thousand times in plain English ain’t enough to get it through my thick skull but followin’ a trail of breadcrumbs to it and it suddenly seems like the most obvious thing in the universe(!)… I ain’t gonna pretend I don’t get it… and, honestly, you hadn’t come here, I probably would’ve ended up comin’ to you to clear the air… I don’t really like holdin’ grudges… Get’s exhaustin’(!)”
I smile at my pupil.
“I’m glad we could reconcile before we parted, Míng.”
He frowns “You ain’t stayin’ to make a report on Citadel? …’Bout the new species martial arts?”
I shake my head “Learning their Arts was my personal agenda, not part of my official role. I shall be boarding a transport bound for Earth shortly after we arrive tomorrow and then on to Xīn de Qín from there. If the ODR want my insights on the Vrakhand and Twigg Arts, they shall have to send someone from the branch there to ask me politely for them(!)”
Another chuckle comes before the man stands up.
I follow his lead but have far less distance to rise before I’m at my full height(!)
Looking silently down on me for a few moments, my pupil says “In that case, Shīfu…”
He brings his hands in front of his chest and covers the knuckles of his right fist with the palm of his left hand, bowing.
“…it’s been an honour to learn from you… I hope our paths cross again at some point… and I hope by then I’m anywhere near skilled enough to stand a chance against you by myself and while I am myself.”
Matching his bàoquán, I bow to him in turn.
“I shall keenly await the day!” I smile before adding “And do not forego your meditations in the meanwhile, Míng(!) You know I’ll know(!)”
He laughs.
---Gordon’s perspective---
I take a deep breath… and open the incubator, bracing for the worst.
I let out a breathy, wheezing laugh when I see what’s inside.
Across the enormous, man shaped gel layer under the liquid filled space below the sealed lid, is, unmistakeably, a sheen of iridescent red.
“Bloody hell! It’s actually working!” I say to myself.
“That must be worth some kind of reward, right Duke Chandler(?)” answers a disembodied halfwhisper from the other side of my lab behind me.
Startling, my spine straightens and I wheel around to see where Circe’s hologram is materialising into being, across the room, as the lid slams shut behind me.
“Jesus bloody Christ, Circe! Don’t do that!” I say for the thousandth time!
Ignoring me, the holographic sociopath walks through the workbenches, to where I stand, and slides her intangible arms around my shoulders while looking down at the box.
I turn around to look at it too, causing her to readjust the positioning of her arms to not have them intersecting my body.
“So it is working, Gordy?” she prompts.
“Yes… it’s working… With this we can reevaluate the timescale of the plan… It won’t take anywhere near as long as we thought!”
“I see…” she answers, feigning interest but her mind clearly still only on one thing “…so that’s…
“Yes, Circe… it’s worth a reward… You can come up to my place when you’re back on Bastion and I’ll give you what you want.” I sigh at the horny Dutchwoman.
“Oh, goody!” she grins up at me, exposing the holographic representations of the vampire fangs I gave her.