Violence is never the answer. But it’s a very effective solution -- Anon Guest
There are two potential results of being the deadliest person in armed or unarmed combat. One is that nobody wants to mess with you. The other, paradoxically, is that everyone wants to mess with you. It's a thing. Once you get a reputation for being the biggest thing in the known universe, everyone who thinks they can be a bigger thing wants to take you on as a form of shortcut.
It's always those who have never seen actual combat who are gung-ho for war. Humans have taken to calling them "chicken hawks," in that they're always crying out for war but the last in line to go to the actual front. Humans are far too familiar with the type. Similarly, it's always those who are new to fighting who believe they are the best whoever was.
Which leads, inevitably, to the situation in which Human Ji finds himself. He was just trying to take some time off in the tea garden and someone recognised his current appearance[1] and decided to be one of those organic waste vents. Ji knew what was coming and what was going to happen mere instants after the young swagger in the livesuit said, "Hey, you're Ji Sythe-Wymann! You think you're hot stuff, don't you?"
Ji sent a quick note to the nearest medical facility, stating his intent to cause as little harm as possible, but warning of the inherent potential for physical injury and property damage because yet another young swagger was attempting to become the next big thing on the Edge and beyond.
Ji attempted to de-escalate. "No. I do not believe that I am 'hot stuff'. There is always a bigger threat. I am merely lucky enough to have survived more threats than most."
"Yeah f'r sure there's a bigger threat. It's called Fox McClarie. That's me!"
"That's nice," said Ji, sipping his tea.
That wasn't the reaction Fox wanted. "What? Are you a coward too? Too scared to defend your spot as king of the hill?"
"It's more that I don't really care. I do my job and I try to do my best at my job. Your defeat is currently not on my employment roster." Sip. "Besides, it's my day off. I am trying to relax."
"Neh nye neneh neh nyehneh," Fox mocked. "Coward. Weakling. Your time's done, old man, and I can prove it."
"You can certainly try." Ji put his teacup down and stepped away from the table. Picking a spot so as to minimise potential damage. "Take your swings, then. I will not move from this spot."
Fox not only telegraphed their blow, but yelled before doing it. Ji dodged out of the way as if he were dreaming. A second followed the first. Then an attempted kick, which Ji caught and used to send Fox sprawling on the ground.
Station Security arrived, saw who was involved, and escorted the squishier clientele out of the tea garden. Some helped the owner clear away the more fragile crockery and move furniture out of the way. Behind them, a small team of Mediks readied a stretcher and an emergency stasis booth. Just in case.
Fox bounced back, grabbed a chair, and tried to charge. Ji deflected it, spun it out of Fox's hands, and gently set it on a nearby table. All without moving from the arbitrary square of flooring that he had chosen to defend.
This was a grievous insult to Fox, who immediately lost all control and threw everything they had at Ji, concluding with themself. At that final charge, Ji threw them towards the Mediks, to save time.
The closest Medik struck with a shot of tranquiliser like a viper. Fox was down and out for the count. Bruised and battered, and with wounded dignity, but not in need of critical care.
"Same deal as always?" said Officer Brass.
"Of course," said Human Ji, resuming his seat and his enjoyment of the tea. "Not pressing charges, but the Human Fox must pay for all damages. Including emotional."
[1] B'Nar has vastly expanded the Human lifespan, the definition of 'Human', and options for personal presentation.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / Jag_cz]
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