Chapter 6
Chapter 5
Stardate 57142
Chi Gong: the ancient Chinese art of the control of internal ‘life’ energy, or ‘chi.’ This ancient art form is primarily practiced in three forms: Tai Chi, Baguaziang, and Hsing-i. These three forms are the internal ‘sisters’ that teach one how to move ones internal energy throughout the body, and how to apply that energy toward practical use.
Kitty was completing the second part of the most basic form of Tai Chi as Riker entered the gym. She was dressed in a black tank-top shirt and workout pants. A red and yellow sash circled her hips. Her hair was pulled back out of her face to run freely down her back. She continued her graceful movements, seemingly oblivious to Riker’s entry.
Riker was dressed in a formal training gi, the traditional uniform of the Okinawan and Japanese martial artists. He watched as she completed the form, completing the ‘cloud hands’ formation, bringing the form to a close. Kitty bowed to the air before her, formally completing the form. She turned to Riker, shaking the excess pent-up energy out of her hands.
“I’m sorry for disturbing you,” Riker apologized. “I thought the gym was empty.”
“I didn’t think anyone besides me worked out this late at night,” she replied.
“I just got finished with a whole pile of paperwork, and this seemed a good time.” He paused for a moment. “You’re very good. I haven’t seen Tai Chi performed that gracefully before. And I don’t recognize the school. What style was that?”
She smiled. “That was Northern Chen style. The Chen family tends to be more practical for combat than the other Tai Chi Chuan forms, and I like that practicality.”
“Understandable, given your line of work. But you treat it as art, too, not just a combat form,” he commented.
“Combat is an art form, Will,” she explained. “The two can’t really be separated.”
Will looked skeptical. “I’ve always had trouble with that concept. Fighting isn’t an art form, in my mind. It’s something to be avoided, and something we do only when we have to in order to survive. The idea that causing someone else’s injury or death is a form of art. I just can’t buy that.”
She indicated his gi and the black belt he wore around his waist. “Yet you continue to practice the Martial Arts.”
“I lead away team missions. I have to be ready for anything, good or bad.”
She nodded. “You focus on the practical, rather than the artistic elements.”
“Yep. I just want to be good enough to get back to the ship in one piece.”
“Makes sense. So I guess you go in for the hard styles, rather than the internal styles.”
“Uh huh. Karate, Juijutsu, a bit of boxing. I’ve studied some Tai Chi and Aikido, but I found them a bit too… esoteric, I guess. A real fight is never that slow, and you can’t take a guy down with a soft touch. I just don’t think Tai Chi is practical for a real fight,” he explained.
Kitty smiled. “I’ve heard that argument before. But tell me, what if you were facing an angry Norsican. Do you think you can take him down using hard techniques?”
He frowned. “How angry is the Norsican?”
“Pissed.”
“I’d rather run than try to find out,” he answered honestly.
“Wise of you. But what if I told you that I could take out not only one, but three of them using the same soft techniques that you just saw. I’d have to do them faster, but not any stronger.”
“Three angry Norsicans, against a Tai Chi practitioner?” He smiled at her. “I don’t want to say that you’re bullshitting me, but I have to say that I highly doubt your claim.”
“I’d be happy to prove it… if you’d care to make it worth my while,” she said with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
“Are you proposing a wager, Ms. Pryde?” he asked with a grin.
“Mr. Riker,” she said with mock indignation, “such a wager would hardly be ladylike. No, I’m proposing a lesson in the efficacy of the internal martial arts, in a realistic environment… with a prize going to whichever of us is right.”
“In other words, a wager,” Riker chuckled.
“Yep.”
“What are the rules?” he asked.
“Simple. You create a scenario on the holodeck that pits me against three Norsicans. You program the scenario, so there can be no allegation that I cheated. The Norsicans in question will be programmed with typical, Norsican fighting abilities. Which you must agree, are quite formidable.”
“Agreed.”
“I will play out the scenario. You can choose judges, parties not directly involved in the wager, to determine whether I have indeed performed as required: that is to say, that I have beaten the three Norsicans using only soft techniques.”
“Sounds fair,” Riker said. “What are the stakes?”
Kitty thought for a moment. “How about a case of whatever you’re drinking against a case of whatever I’m drinking.”
“Syntheholic or real?”
“Up to the winner to choose, but I tend to avoid Synthehol whenever possible.”
“Real whisky is mighty expensive,” Riker said. “I hope you have some money socked away, because I have very expensive tastes.”
“Worry about yourself, Riker. I’m not the one who’s going to be paying up,” she said with a challenge.
“I think that Beverly should be one of the judges,” Riker commented. “That way, she can tell you that you lost at the same time that she’s treating you for your injuries.”
“Can I take that as an acceptance of the terms?” she queried.
“Yes. But none of that walking through walls stuff. This has to be a fair fight.”
“No phasing allowed,” she agreed. “Do we have a deal?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” She smiled mischievously again. “You don’t learn very quickly, do you, Will?”
“What makes you say that?”
She smiled sweetly. “I would have figured that the poker game would have been enough to teach you never to gamble with me.”
“We shall see, Ms. Pryde,” He replied. “Will you be available tomorrow night for this little demonstration?”
“Sounds fine to me.”
“Very well then,” he smiled as she picked up her workout bag and headed for the showers. “By the way, you might want to ask the Captain for some advice.”
“How’s that?”
Now it was Riker’s turn to smile sweetly. “When he was much younger, Captain Picard got into a bar fight with three angry Norsicans.”
“How’d he do?” she asked.
“He survived. And he has the artificial heart to prove it,” Riker replied. “Captain Picard is an accomplished fighter, but he lost against three Norsicans. That’s why I’m so confident that there is no way in hell that you can beat them.”
Kitty thought for a moment. “He used the wrong technique. He should have used the internal styles.”
*****
Stardate 57147
It was the next evening when Kitty entered the holodeck with Riker. They found quite a few people waiting inside. The holodeck was set with a simulation of a typical, if somewhat seedy bar. It could have been on Earth or any of a thousand other Earth-type planets.
The Enterprise command crew and quite a few other officers were spread throughout the bar at the various tables. The holodeck wasn’t currently running the program, but those gathered all had drinks in hand.
“What the hell is going on?” Kitty asked.
Deanna spoke up. “It seems that word of this little wager has gotten around. You’re the topic of a rather large betting pool.”
“And exactly what is everyone betting on?”
“How long you’ll last against three Norsicans with a temper,” replied Geordie. “I’m betting five minutes.”
“Not a chance, especially not if she has to fight using soft-style,” said Beverly.
Kitty looked about the room, shaking her head in disbelief. Then she saw a face that she really hadn’t expected to see. “Et tu, Captain?”
Picard looked at her from his seat at the bar. “Don’t complain, Commander. I’ve put my money on you to win.”
Riker smiled at Picard, and then he looked at Beverly. “I think you need to check the Captain’s fitness for command, Bev. He’s off his rocker.”
“I beg to differ, Number One,” said Picard with a smile. “First of all, Ms. Pryde is a master of the martial arts, perhaps one of the twenty or thirty best martial artists in the entire Federation, if her record is to be believed. And second, do you really think that she would have made this challenge to you if it wasn’t already ‘in the bag’ as they say?”
Riker’s smile wavered for a moment. “Nah, there’s no way that a normal human can possibly beat three Norsicans in unarmed combat without resorting to external, hard techniques. And even then, her chances are slim to none.”
“We shall see,” Picard replied with a grin in Kitty’s direction. Kitty replied with a wink of her own.
“Shall we begin?” she asked Riker.
“Computer, begin simulation.” Riker took a seat next to Picard at the bar.
Kitty slipped into a chair at an empty table. A waiter came to the table and she ordered a beer. Then she sat back to enjoy the ambiance. The music that was playing was old-style jazz and folk-rock of the 20th Century. The particular piece that was playing was an old favorite of hers, an old standard first done by one of her favorite twentieth century bands, Cats Laughing, and she found herself tapping her toe with the music.
There was a muted undertone to the ambient sounds in the room; sort of a hush that took over the room and Kitty knew that the Norsicans had just walked into the bar. She didn’t look toward the door, but she knew when they were approaching her.
She felt a huge paw of a hand on her shoulder, and she was pulled around to face the three Norsicans.
“OUR TABLE. OUR CHAIRS. HUMAN MOVE,” the largest and burliest of the three said.
“Not now, boys. I’m waiting for the end of this song,” she replied. “Then I’ll be happy to play with you. I just need about two minutes.” She turned back to the table to listen.
The big hand came down on her shoulder again, this time pulling her more roughly. “HUMAN MOVE NOW!!!” he bellowed.
“In a minute, I said,” and she turned back again.
“NO MINUTE!!! NOW!!!” He grabbed her shoulder again, but this time Kitty spun with him, not resisting, and she added just the tiniest push of her shoulder against the Norsican. He lost his balance, and flailed about, crashing into the next table. Kitty sat back down to continue listening to the song.
The Norsican got back to his feet, brushing chips and beer nuts off himself. He looked at Kitty. Her back was to him and he charged at her in fury.
Kitty stood up and sidestepped the charging Norsican lightly, not even hurrying. The Norsican crashed again, this time into her table. The table was crushed under his weight and momentum, and the Norsican was momentarily dazed.
The second Norsican grabbed her shoulder from behind. Again, she accepted his attack, and allowed herself to be pulled around with no resistance at all. The Norsican, expecting resistance, but finding none, found himself slightly off balance. Kitty completed the turn, and her hand came up to touch his chest in the classic ‘push-hand-brush-knee’ posture, and the Norsican flew across the room from her light push. He landed against the bar, hard, and lay still.
The first Norsican was just getting to his knees when the third one grabbed her from behind in a bear hug. Kitty immediately rooted to the ground. Her feet splayed inward at right angles from each other, gripping the ground with a torque-like motion. She forced her elbows outward slightly, loosening the Norsican’s grip ever so slightly. Not enough to release her, but enough that it ruined his leverage advantage. The Norsican tried to lift her off the ground, but given her rooting, and the loss of leverage, he was fighting an uphill battle, despite his superior strength.
Kitty began a circular rocking motion in her hips. It was a small thing, but the motion grew bigger, and began to encompass her whole torso, as well as her legs. The Norsican fought to maintain his grip on her as well as his balance… but she suddenly twisted in his grip, and the third Norsican found himself hurtling across the room as well. He landed in a heap.
The first one was back on his feet, and he charged her with a big haymaker punch, strong enough to dent a tank. She waited for his punch, and then slapped it easily aside. He threw another punch at her head, but her hand came up to intercept it. She caught his fist against her palm. Then she breathed out.
The surprised Norsican found himself being forced back against the wall by a human half his size. He tried to force her back, but he couldn’t budge her. Then he tried pulling his hand back, and found that he could not. And still she pressed him back. His back was to the wall, as was his elbow. His arm was trapped perpendicular to the wall, and he couldn’t pull away. And she continued to press him.
Kitty settled herself and released another breath of air. As she did, she pushed again, and the Norsican screamed. She pushed harder. Suddenly the Norsican’s arm was broken, bent out of shape, as she crushed it against the wall. She let him go, and he dropped to the floor and writhed in pain.
“I told you I wanted to finish that song,” she said to the screaming Norsican.
The entire bar was silent, except for the screaming Norsican. She turned to Riker.
“Don’t you think you should cut him from the program now? The poor idiot has suffered enough.”
It took a moment for Riker to find his voice. “Computer, eliminate Norsicans from the simulation and continue program.” The computer beeped in acknowledgement and the Norsicans disappeared.
Picard spoke up now. “Computer, what was the entire time of combat?”
“Combat was completed in one minute fourteen seconds,” the computer replied.
Kitty shrugged. “I was taking my time. If it was a real fight, it wouldn’t have lasted more than forty seconds. On the other hand, I wouldn’t have only used soft techniques either. I was trying to prove a point here.”
Riker looked at her in amazement. “A point well taken. I believe I owe you a case of scotch.”
“And I believe you all owe me some money,” Picard chimed in. A general chuckle filled the room, followed by applause for both Kitty and Picard.
“We’ll settle up later, Will,” she replied. “In the meantime, I like this bar. Anybody up for a few rounds?” A cheer went up, as the party got under way.