Rebel (The United Federation Marine Corps) by Jonathan P. Brazee Page B

pause, but the rumor was that he left the Marines on less-than-favorable terms.
    “Well, given the fadin’ bruise on your face, I’d be sayin’ you’re here to get some revenge on a beatin’. The thing is, I don’ take on no wannabes.”
    “I can fight,” she protested.
    “Not well enough, evidently.”
    “Look, I can’t pay you much,” Michi started.
    “You’re Clan, cousin, I can smell it on you.  And you can’t pay much?”
    MacPruitt and Michi were not related, as far as she knew, but some Clan liked to call each other cousin as a sort of endearment.  MacPruitt, though, used it sarcastically, as if to emphasize their different positions in life.
    “Uh, well, I’m sort of on my own now,” Michi admitted.
    “Ah, you pissed off your family?  Interestin’.  Maybe you’ve got some balls, girl.  Tell you what.  Hop around the counter, and let’s roll around on the mat.  Let me see what you’ve got.”
    Michi walked around the counter and started to step onto the mat when Seth stopped her.  “Take off those Clodders.  I don’t need you tearing up my mat.  There’s a locker room in the back.  Get dressed, then we’ll see.”
    As Michi crossed the worn mat, she saw various photos on the wall, some of Seth in action, several at awards ceremonies, and one of him teaching what had to be Marines.  There was even his discharge certificate framed and on the wall.  Was she coming to the enemy for help?
    She was changed and back in a few moments, standing in front of the relaxed Seth.  She came to the balls of her feet, ready for whatever he might have for her.
    “Well, don’t waste my time, girl, show me you’re worth it.”
    Michi immediately launched into a superman punch, knee up to change to a kick if the opportunity presented itself. She was taller than Seth, and the superman punch was a good way to close the distance.
    In an instant, she brought her fist down towards his nose, and an instant later, she was on the mat, her right arm being extended and cranked back.
    “Tap, tap!” she shouted, using her left hand to tap Seth’s back.
    He let her up while she tried to shake out the strain on her arm.  “You done?” he asked her.
    In response, she flicked out with a front kick, which barely touched his chest.  She hopped up to come down with an axe kick, which he easily batted away before dropping down and punching her between the legs.   The punch hit her squarely in the crotch, and pain flooded her senses.   With a shout, she dove at him, grabbing him and driving him back, striving to mount him so she could get to the ground and pound.  She felt a momentary thrill as she felt him go down, but somehow, he ended up on top, and within moments, she was in a crucifix, pinned. 
    He didn’t pummel at her, as she expected, but he thrust his pelvis into her face once before letting her go and looking at her expectantly. 
    She felt the radge start to rise, but she fought it down.  She knew his little balls-in-the-face was an attempt to get her to lose it.  It would take more than that to get to her, she promised herself.
    She stood back up, brought her fists up, and started circling, leaving anger and emotion to focus on technique.  She thought she saw Seth slightly nod as he closed in.  They sparred for another 20 minutes, giving and taking, although Michi was taking much more.  She managed to reverse Seth once, and she caught him with an elbow, but that was about it.  If he’d wanted to, he could have destroyed her, she realized.  
    He called a halt, walked over to an old, beat-up fridge, and pulled out two waters, throwing her one.  She gratefully took it, trying to drink between heavy breaths.
    “Well, you ain’t very good, are you?” he asked.
    She started to protest, but he held up a hand and continued, “But you’re ungodly strong, and you’re aggressive.  You’ve got some potential.  I can’t believe I’m saying this, but come around at 3:00 tomorrow, and