SILVER SHADOW #9:
"Goodbyes"
By Aaron Baugh

When Charlie arrived at the corner bar, he found Jian waiting at their usual table, a glass of whiskey on ice already warming in front of the empty chair.

With a sigh, Charlie took his seat.

"Charlie."

"Jian." As he sat, Charlie's hands folded around the glass, as if preparing to drink from it. Often he needed a bracing drink or three during or after a meeting with the man who was the Silver Shadow.

"I'm leaving."

Surprised, Charlie reacted as if poked by a needle. "When? Where? For good?"

"No, I'll be back. I have to take care of a few things in Hong Kong."

Charlie nodded. "I think I get it."

"Good. I've a favor to ask."

Exhaling heavily, Charlie's right hand moved to tighten about the glass of whiskey. "And?"

"I've a student that I want you to help out, take on while I'm gone."

"What about Zhao?"

"He'll have his hands full with all three studios and the regular students."

"So this other one is an irregular student?"

Jian's smile was lopsided. "One could say that."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why is he irregular?"

"Special is more like it. He wanted a crash program, tailored to his specifically. I'm going with Yu-Sool."

"Not your normal style. Don't you do the big three in your studios?"

"Isshin-Ryu is too rigid, Aikido too inoffensive, and Tae Kwon Do too inflexible. He needs forms AND content."

"What about Wu-Shu?"

"He isn't in a movie."

"Te?'

"He should have a weapon option beyond farm implements."

"Jiujitsu? Judo?"

"Empty of spiritual training and too dependent on grapples. He needs to hit and hurt his foes, not get them to tap out. I'm certain of my choice, Charlie."

"Fine. Why me?"

"Because I want this guy to be good, and next to me, you're the best."

"That's a lefthanded compliment if I ever heard one."

"You noticed! How grand." Jian smirked.

Charlie gave a dry chuckle, then asked a question before raising his glass to his lips. "Who's the student?"

"Michael Manly."

And that's how Jian came to be covered in a fine whiskey mist.

* * *

Two nights later, Jian had already paid for his ticket to Hong Kong, a round-tripper with an open return date. Although he was packed, and had already made arrangements to continue Michael's training, he couldn't resist another sweep of his neighborhood before he left. The long leaps between buildings; scaling glass and steel towers; it was all exhilarating.

Too exhilarating, because it put him in his current jam.

Someone was following him. He hadn't yet caught a glimpse of his pursuer, but he knew that there was someone hot on his heels from the prickly sensation on his neck. Without warning, a white blast of energy vaporized the brick ledge under his feet just as he gathered his weight to leap across an alley. Desperately clawing out, he caught a window ledge with the fingertips of his left hand and swung upwards, his feet finding purchase against the railing of a fire escape. Pushing away before he began to fall again, he twisted his body in midair and both hands caught at a window ledge. Pausing a beat to gather himself, he pulled himself up, turned, and leapt lightly to the lid of a closed dumpster beneath him.

"Thought I'd be seeing you again," said a silky voice from above.

Jian tilted his head skyward, but the few lights on in the alley didn't provide enough light for him to make out the face. He was certain of who it was, though. The voice gave it away.

"Emma?" he said, just above a whisper. "I'd wondered where you'd gone."

She jumped down off of the roof and floated - floated!! - down to hover at the same level as the top of the dumpster.

Jian quickly closed his mouth as his two hands moved back and loosened his staff pieces from their harness. His eyes were drawn to the sheathed sword at her hip, then back to her face as she began to speak.

Emma was smiling. "How nice of you to be concerned. Had to take care of some other things, but I've been pining away for a rematch."

"Not my fault. You always skip out on the last act."

Her eyes narrowed. "Not anymore." She darted forward in midair, her leg extended. Jian deflected it and moved to the side, his fist moving to catch her in the stomach. It worked, but her return backhand swept him off the dumpster and onto the pavement. Regaining his feet, he latched together his weapon as quickly as he could.

He looked up, expecting her attack to come from there, but she was gone. Holding the staff defensively, he crouched, listening for the slightest sound and pushing his senses outward. He could hear her..she was still close by, just on the other side of -

And that's when the dumpster shuddered, then moved towards him in a rush, the wheels not turning, but scraping across the asphalt of the street, long rusted into uselessness. Jian rolled back and leapt up, his legs uncoiling and sending him up and forward. Emma was below him and in front, slightly off balance from shoving the dumpster at him.

His leg extended in a kick, catching her right above the nose. She recoiled and staggered backwards, spinning around, her heel cutting through the air. Jian's right arm blocked it, but left him open for her fist to slam into his ribs, knocking him sideways.

She dropped and spun, but he leapt up, grabbing onto the lowest rung of a fire escape ladder and spun his staff to strike her hard in the face once more.

Landing lightly on his feet, he moved forward, but her leg stabbed out at him again and he leaned back, grabbing it with his right hand and swinging her into the dumpster she'd just shoved at him. The metallic boom echoed down the alley, and Emma went limp.

Staring down at her, Jian's gaze went to the sword at her hip, and her slightly altered appearance. Just then, her eyes darted open and she leapt to her feet and towards Jian.

Surprised, he recoiled and fell into a defensive pose just in time to deflect three vicious blows. Emma pressed her attack, then shoved Jian back and flipped up and backwards, landing atop the dumpster.

"You've gotten better," she said dryly.

"And you've learned a trick or two as well," he said, his tone matching Emma's perfectly.

She smiled. "You don't know the half of it." Slowly, langorously, she drew the sword from her hip scabbard and pointed it at Jian's chest. Her eyes narrowed, and only a last-moment lunge to his left saved Jian from the searing bolt of white energy.

She charged and brought the Magistrate's sword up, over, and down in a vicious arc. Jian lifted Roger Greene's staff to block, and engineer-bred exotic metals held against whatever other-earthly forges had made the 'magic' sword.

With a twist of his wrists, the tip of Jian's staff struck Emma under her left eye, drawing blood, and the other end cracked into her right kneecap, dropping her.

She screamed in rage and pain, and rolled to the side before the staff could hit her again. She lunged out blindly with the sword, and Jian brought his staff to counter.

It sliced through cleanly.

Despite the resistance of the staff's metal, there was no barrier supplied by his skin, muscle, sinew, or the bone that was Jian's left fibula. The Magistrate's sword cleaved through cleanly, and Jian fell backwards, totally surprised by the strike and the damage.

Emma's strike was clean, the blood a dark stain on his gray uniform, spreading with a frightening rapidity.

Despite being on his back, Jian was far from defenseless, and rolled backwards and up, amazed that he could support at least a bit of his weight on his injured leg. He struck out with the staff at her and missed. She slapped sideways with the sword, knocking the broken shaft from his hands. Her other hand struck out, gripping his shirt at the center of the yin-yang emblazoned upon it, and she lifted him up, then threw him bodily against the nearest brick wall.

He landed in a heap, and Emma crossed to him, gripping him by the excess fold caused by his hood at the base of his throat.

"So sad," she said sweetly. "You were such a fun playmate."

"Glad to be of service," he said through clenched teeth. His back screamed in pain, and he thought he felt a broken rib.

"I've big plans for this city," she said, "and big plans for little Mysteria as well."

Jian's eyes narrowed, and his heretofore limp arms shot to Emma's temples, his knuckles striking the soft spots behind her eyes. Her grip faltered, and Jian's knee smashed into her breastbone, and flicked up to her chin as she dropped him entirely. He landed hard on his back, but rolled up and stood on his good leg, the injured one still bleeding.

Emma staggered, but screamed in rage and lunged forward. Jian flipped to his side, and the Magistrate's sword sank into the brick that was behind him. His arm shot out and knocked her hand from its hilt, then delivered and flurry of blows to her face and body, his fists moving fast enough so that their motion couldn't even be clearly seen. Emma's body shuddered with each impact, and a final uppercut to her chin sent her flying towards the other side of the alley.

She hit the wall with a bone-rending crunch, and fell to her feet, then her knees, and then to the ground.

Breathing heavily, Jian moved to the sword and reached out to grasp its handle. A white flash threw him back, his hand and arm burning from the charge.

Picking up a piece of splintered two by four, he drove it into the wall like a nail, then pitched Emma's limp form into the dumpster and limped away.

Before he could get too far away, however, he heard the diesel roar of a city truck approaching the alley, the heavy forks on its nose and large bin at the back marking it as a municipal garbage truck.

Despite the pain in his leg, or perhaps because of the blood loss, Jian smiled.

Pacific City would miss him, possibly as much as he'd miss it.