Lunch goes well. You, Bedard, and Wraith all swapping horror stories about traveling in the warp. Being the only non-blunt at the table, you do have a certain edge, but the natural mental durability of the Astartes means that they come within a whisker of matching you. All of you agree that both Danus and Helheim have seen worse, and Lord Pyrus is in a league of his own with the Kania Incursion.

With those important formalities out of the way, the three of you make your way to one of the training chambers. It is a fairly large room, featuring a cleared circle in the center, with racks of training weapons, inactive sparing remotes, and other training aid mounted to or parked along the walls. Wraith posts up over by the door, leaning back against the frame. he looks somewhat interested, but Bedard draws your attention as he gestures to the center of the cleared circle. "I'll be standing back making notes. Go ahead with whatever morning routine you usually perform."

You raise one eyebrow as you glide to the center of the circle, Miotal Scathanna in your hands. "You will excuse me if I skip over thinks like waking up, getting dressed, and relieving myself in favor of just working out?"

Wraith snorts again.

Bedard waves a hand, "of course, of course. Whatever you are comfortable with Lady Dannan."

You take a moment to judge the space around yourself, measuring out where you can safely move without endangering either of the Astartes. Fortunately, the circle is larger than the cleared area in your quarters, with a higher ceiling as well. You also ponder over just how much to show off while you are at it. You have more than enough space to do all of your forms in a single uninterrupted string, instead of resetting to a start position due to a wall or bed. You decide to show the expected Imperial forms, as well as some of the defensive forms you have mastered. The aggressive ones can stay in reserve, alongside the forms you aren't totally confident in.

Taking a deep breath, you take a moment to stretch, cracking your knuckles, elbows, shoulders, knees, ankles, back, and neck in the process. Bedard raises an eyebrow briefly, but settles in along the wall to watch.

You start with your purely Imperial forms, working through the standard blocks and strikes. You put a little more effort and intensity into it than usual. Once that is done, you start into the actual katas. The Imperial ones flow with their usual percussive beat. Strike, strike, pause, strike, strike, strike, pause, repeat. You run through them for a good twenty five minutes before you get to the defensive forms that you learned. They flow much more smoothly, without the semi-erratic pauses of the Imperial forms. They are also much more of a workout, keeping Miotal Scathanna spinning and moving continuously. The katas come to an end, and Wraith looks mildly impressed, while Bedard is scratching his chin. Bedard speaks first. "Well, I can see how that workout would improve your physical fitness quite a bit! Dynamic muscle movements, with weight, plus a medium to high intensity heartbeat. Most impressive Lady Dannan!"

Wraith flexes a hand, as if gripping his fingers around the hilt of something. "Most impressive indeed. That second set of katas seem ...familiar. Would you care for a sparring session, that I might better judge your style?"

You turn to face Wraith, still breathing a little heavily. "I'm certainly not going to say no to training with an Astartes! But do keep in mind that I'm only human."

Wraith nods. "Practice blades only. Shouldn't hurt any more than a Shockmaul set on stun."

You wince. Shockmauls are riot police crowd control weapons, and presumably hurt like hell. You heft Miotal Scathanna. "No power-fields on this thing, so if it hits it hits. Best of three touches then?"

Wraith nods. "A reasonable match." He draws a short-sword from one of the wall-mounted racks. "Go ahead and go all-out. If you can touch me, I figure I deserve it."

You both fall into your starting positions. You pride demands that you make your best attempt. Wraith will know if you aren't doing so anyway, and scoring even a single touch would be an impressive feat.

You take a pair of deep breaths, and then you begin. You stay with your defensive routines, forcing Wraith to come to you. Even as you deflect his first attack harmlessly wide you realize two things. The first is that a purely defensive strategy is ultimately a losing one, and the second is that Wraith is definitely holding back.

Your counter-blow is deflected contemptuously, and you move aside from another of Wraith's strikes. You miss its follow up, and take a glancing blow across your right leg. It promptly locks up, dumping you on your posterior. "Dammit!"

Wraith helps you to your feet. "That's one. Ready for round two?"

You flex your right leg tentatively, surprised to feel it coming back into function quite so quickly. "I believe so."

The second round flows much as the first one does, but you give up trying to use any of the Imperial attack-patterns you know. Wraith knows them, their normal counters, and several more unconventional ones as the first round has handily demonstrated. Remaining purely on the defensive isn't a winning strategy, but you want to see more of Wraiths attack patterns. As the heartbeats drag past, you start dropping into the zen battle-trance you associate with your longer training sessions. Wraiths attacks continue at the same rate, but you keep deflecting them. He leaves you no openings for counter-attacks, but it is clear that he is holding back just a little bit less as the round drags on. Finally, you get a counter-attack off, catching Wraith in the left leg just as he connects with your left arm. Both of you fall back out of the melee, acknowledging the other's hit. Were this actual combat, Wraith would probably be only slightly injured, while you would be missing an arm. Still, you managed a touch, and Wraith clearly has a bit more respect for your capabilities.

You both come set for the final decisive round, and you decide to go for it. With the second round a draw, you can't win the match outright, but you can still force a draw. If you get just a bit lucky... or go on the attack. The third round starts, and you can feel more than just Bedard's eyes watching the fight. You force that information from your awareness, dropping back into the battle-trance. Three strikes flow past, then seven, and you make an opening. You intentionally start your attack up high and keep it there, forcing Wraith to back up just a half step to give you room to work. As soon as he takes that step, you sweep Miotal Scathanna down low, forcing him to step back or jump over. Wraith opts to jump the staff, and come down behind it, closing the range. Just as you had hoped he might. You tighten the arc of your swing and lunge out, catching Wraith as he lands and begins to close. His counter comes with breathtaking speed, knocking your weapon up and right, but you follow through by closing the range yourself, stepping inside his reach and bringing the butt of the staff up into his belly.

Everything freezes for a moment, then the battle-trance snaps and you step back from the melee. The contest is a draw. Wraith shakes his head and bows in respect. Bedard, Danus, and Helheim are all standing on the sidelines watching with interest. You return Wraith's bow and turn to Bedard. "Was that an ample demonstration?"

Bedard nods. "more than ample. What do you think Wraith?"

Wrath shakes his head. "I haven't been pushed that hard by a mere human in... well, ever."

You snort and smooth your kerchief. "Best remember that I'm a Navigator then. Still human, when all is said and done, but never just a human."

Wraith cocks his head. "So are you saying you cheated?"

You shake your head as his benevolent blind-spot. "To quote an old, old saying: 'If you aren't cheating, you aren't trying hard enough.' You have speed, size, strength, and endless hours of drill on me. Of course I had to use every trick in my book just to keep in shouting range of you in a fair fight."

Wraith nods slowly. "That battle-trance was impressive, almost machine-like. I'll not be underestimating you again in the future."

Before you can respond, you microbead chirps. It's Canala, your stewardess. "Lady Dannan, will you be back for dinner?"

"I will be Canala, in about an hour and a half."

"That's quite late Lady Dannan. I'll keep it warm for you."

You close the link and bow to your hosts. "Gentlemen, it appears that I'm late for my supper, as my stewardess has just reminded me, so I must beg my leave."

Helheim opens the door for you. "Best hurry then Ethna. We've planning to do, and can't have any non-Deathwatch here while we do it."

You pause at the doorway. "If we need to make a fast run, or any diversions, let me know and I'll make them."

Helheim nods, and you hurry back to your quarters. Canala had mention that she was making Grox Bourguignon, and you have no intention of letting it get cold!