"I've waited a long time for this," Gell smiled.
"Then what's taking you so long?" Rhone remained stoic as she flexed the fingers on the hand in front of her in a "come here" motion.
He pushed off with his quick foot, running at her with unparalleled intensity. When he reached her, he punched with his right – attempting to use all of his momentum.
She heard a whoosh when she ducked. His momentum brought him over her and she punched into his stomach with her trailing hand.
He grunted loudly and grabbed her tightly bound hair. He was disappointed when she didn't say or do anything that indicated that she was in pain. He kept his hold on her hair and raised her up to his eye level.
She was gritting her teeth, "You cheap fuck."
"Is that an offer?" he asked sarcastically.
She wished that he could have enough of an effect on her so she could vomit right now. "I'll remember this," she said in a voice that mimicked her thoughts.
"I'm sure you won't forget this either," he started to drag her by the hair to one of the long white silk covered tables near a wall. It had a tiered stack of elegantly filled champaign glasses on it. He grabbed the loose fabric of her cargo pants at her thigh, lifted her, and tossed her though the mountain of golden liquid.
She landed on her side and felt a few pieces of glass dig into the surface of her right forearm. That agitated her. She wiped her eyes. She was covered in liquor. That annoyed her. Her hair was disheveled and strands were loose, falling out of her tight quaff. That pissed her off.
Gell leaned his hands onto the table and peered over to the other side. There was some yellow liquid, tinged with light pink – blood. But she was gone. His eyes widened in realization.
The white silk suddenly moved beneath his hands and his elbows smacked against the table. He rubbed his elbows as he watched her stand up on the other side of the table, "Speaking of cheap."
"Just wait," she smirked. She didn't want to say it out loud, but he had started it – the dirty fighting. Grabbing hair? That was something that chicks did to one another in bar fights. …Jerk.
From a standing position, she pushed as hard off the ground and started to come up over the table.
Lex leaned closer to the monitor when her left foot landed on the table in front of Gell, and her right foot made solid contact with his head. Gell staggered back, but remained standing. Rhone jumped off the table and they started fighting furiously. Punches and kicks being thrown at an unbelievable rate. Not that many of them were landing -- most of them were being blocked by the receiver. …It was inconceivable.
He heard Griffin grunt beside him. Lex didn't look up from the monitor – still action packed. Lex considered for a moment, "They were forbidden to fight – by whom?"
"Bishop," Griffin answered simply.
Lex looked up for a moment, giving him a look that said "you seriously can't expect to just leave it at that." But he looked back to the constantly changing images on the screen.
"Bishop believed… When I was a boy… Before Rhone…" Griffin tried to start to explain, but obviously didn't know where to start.
"And just why was it – forbidden for them to fight," Lex repeated what was said in the hall. He would like to hear everything that this guy had to say, but now wasn't really a good time. …When he was a boy?
Griffin hesitated as he tried to make it simple and coherent, "When a child is – gifted, like in art or music, their parents send them to classes or tutors to nurture that skill."
Lex nodded, but didn't look up.
Griffin continued, "But sometimes, the kid is more than gifted. They're a – a prodigy."
Lex looked up at the word.
"Those kids don't go to classes or tutors," he paused to explain the best he could, "It would corrupt their natural gift. It would be detrimental to them to be – limited by other people or by rules or – anything that isn't what they were born with."
Lex looked at Griffin and nodded very slowly. "Bishop believed that Rhone was – is one of those people, but with combat. We were forbidden to fight with her – we might corrupt her. Only he was allowed to train her. And it was," Griffin looked for the right word, "Secretive."
Lex's right eyebrow crept up his forehead, "…And Gell…?" Lex really didn't understand the connection.
"Gell is – was our greatest fighter," Griffin said.
"Jealousy?" Lex offered.
"Not at first," Griffin hesitated, "We don't – get a lot of women on base."
"Rejection," Lex smiled.
Griffin nodded, "A lot of rejection. …We were forbidden to fight her, but she was forbidden to fight us." Griffin continued. "He tried to kill her – more than once. I remember finding him," Griffin held his hands in front of himself, mimicking what he had seen, "Holding her head in a river. She just sat there and took it – never fought back because Bishop told her not to. Bishop and I had more than one disagreement about it – I spent time in the hole over it," Griffin looked back to the fight on the monitor as he spoke.
Lex was going to ask about "the hole," but the look Griffin had on his face said that it was a punishment. He found it hard to believe that she didn't fight back; it seemed so – out of character.
"I always thought it odd that he never tried to…" Griffin implied sex.
Lex furrowed his brow, "Why?"
"I think that – in the back of his mind – he feared," he paused, "That Bishop was right and she was just toying with him – letting him believe that he was the best."
Lex believed that that was more plausible. He didn't know why she wouldn't just kick his ass and have it done with, but he believed in her. "Then what?" Lex asked.
"She started going on missions with Gell. They just started to compete at – at everything. Running, shooting, calculating things, anything you could think of," Griffin shook his head, "I swear to God, Bishop forced them together in anyway possible. He loved to see the limits that Gell could push her to."
Lex got a look of disgust on his face. Perhaps this Bishop wasn't the man that Rhone painted him to be – a great leader. Right now he sounded more like his father.
"It didn't take long until she started beating him at their little games. Occasionally quickly became consistently, which quickly became constantly," Griffin shook his head.
Lex glanced back at the monitor, no change – still beating one another. It was unbelievable. "Do you believe that Bishop was right?" he asked.
"Without a doubt. She…" his voice trailed off.
Lex looked at him, silently urging him to continue.
Griffin shook his head, "Anyway, he kept losing so he stopped playing. She never said anything about it, and I think that pissed him off even more. Just – knowing. And she went on every mission – still does." Griffin stopped to think, "I've been around this for twenty years, and I've never heard of anything like it…"
Lex tilted his head. Twenty years? How old was this guy? He looked like he was in his mid-twenties.
Griffin saw the look – the look that questioned the chronology of his life. Griffin looked to the monitor and narrowed his eyes, "Hey…"
Lex followed his gaze.
He lost his footing and ungracefully took a few steps back. He was taken aback at her skill. He knew it would be no easy task, but defeating her was… She was stronger – no chick was that strong – and faster than he had anticipated. …And she wasn't even winded.
She watched him, his heavy breath moving his shoulders up and down. They were a few yards from one another. "You look," she paused, "Tired, Gell."
"Tired of you," he growled. He looked to his left; the guns and the artist tube were resting on the floor – kicked into a cluster. He turned and ran for them without a second thought. He didn't look at her, only his gun on the floor. He ran full out; he couldn't lose.
He slid to a stop, kneeled over the artist's tube, picked up his gun, and stood in one fluid motion. He turned to her and… She was gone.
She came up behind him. As he bent over, she could see his muscles through his shirt – small patches of sweat making the shirt stick to him. She cringed and looked down. …He was standing over her tube. He was going to see how dirty she could fight. …Try to drown me, you bastard…
As he stood, she bent over and grabbed both ends of the artist's tube that rested on the floor between his legs. Then she stood and brought the tube up as hard as she could, slamming the artist's tube into his groin. He was slightly lifted off the ground with the force.
He doubled over, simply dropping the gun he had picked up with one hand and reaching for his – pain with the other. He wanted to tell her how much he hated her, how low and… If only he could form the words without that squeal at the back of his throat.
Her words interrupted his silent cursing, "I take it back, Gell. You don't look tired, you look – weak."
He turned to see her standing with the tube in one hand in a readied position about five yards from him. Had he really staggered that far? …God, it hurt.
Lex and Griffin both unconsciously gritted their teeth and shifted in position at the assault on Gell's groin. No matter how much you disliked another guy; there was always a – sympathy there.
"Oh, man," Griffin said in a whisper.
"What is she doing?" Lex asked. She was holding the tube like she was going to throw it or something.
"There's this outstanding – challenge," Griffin had to search for the last word.
"What kind of challenge?" Lex emphasized the last word, briefly glancing to the man next to him.
"There was an – episode sometime ago. Rhone did something – incredible…" Griffin didn't know if he should talk about this, "And basically, Gell said that she could never do it again. That it was luck." He checked one more time to make sure that this was being recorded.
"Was it?" Lex asked.
"…I have faith in her," Griffin hesitated, "But – it had to be. No one could do that twice."
Lex finally had to ask, "Do what?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Griffin pointed to the monitor again.