The surprised Leaguer bellowed something in Vertrucht, jumped back with a look of agonized disbelief, then yanked his arm free and sprang forward, aiming a double-hand chop against Brim's sides that threatened to shatter his ribs.
Brim met the savage attack by instinct alone, stepping forward and driving both arms downward inside Valentin's, effectively cutting short the attack before viciously landing his own double punch to both sides of Valentin's lower ribs.
Coughing painfully, Valentin pivoted and immediately counterattacked with a murderous roundhouse punch to Brim's left temple that launched him backward through the door and onto the ground in an explosion of agony and smothering rain.
Instantly, Valentin was astride Brim's chest. Powerful hands slipped deep down the sides of his shirt collar, then sharp, bony edges of wrists and forearms closed relentlessly against Brim's carotid arteries, applying deadly, agonizing pressure. "Now... you... Imperial... bastard," he hissed, his voice barely audible with effort, "... you... will... die."
Close to insensibility, Brim battled for consciousness. Valentin's face glared malevolently at him while his fingers tightened around Brim's throat. As he gasped for breath, the Leaguer smiled.
Brim knew he must break the lock in the next few moments or he would be killed. Desperately, he arched his body and shoved Valentin's hips away from his chest. Growling and panting like an animal, Valentin fought desperately to maintain his position, clawing the Carescrian's flesh, but Brim was better conditioned, and the choke hold weakened significantly. When Brim could shove no farther, he rolled suddenly to the left, grabbed the man's right cuff, and hauled hard across his body, breaking the death lock and rolling the surprised Leaguer off him completely. Before Valentin could recover, Brim grabbed his throat, shoved him backward to the ground, and stomped on his face.
With blood streaming from his nose, Valentin groaned in agony and rolled to his stomach. Slowly, he began to push himself erect, but Brim staggered in from the side, raised his knee for leverage, and delivered a tremendous upward kick to the midsection. His blow lifted the Leaguer more than an iral off the floor before he collapsed in a puddle of his own vomit and lay still, moaning in a low voice.
Moments later, both Drummond and Ursis arrived at the door, both armed with blast pikes.
"Wilf," they cried in unison, "are you all right?"
Brim stood over the motionless Valentin, nearly sick to the stomach with pain himself. "Except for a possibly ruined love life, I'm all right," he growled after a long rumble of thunder, "—and unfortunately, so is this Leaguer zukeed."
Valentin retched as he writhed on the stones.
"On your feet, coward," Brim ordered, rubbing his throat. "You're not half so hurt as you ought to be. You'll fly tomorrow—which is a lot better than what you and your bully boys had in store for me the other day."
Valentin only groaned.
"We'll get him back to his people," Drummond said, motioning quietly to men standing outside in the teeming rain. Then he made a little smile. "I think perhaps this evening's activities will send off a pretty significant message for Triannic, too—that CIGAs aren't the only Imperials they'll have to deal with." He shrugged. "Who knows, it might just have bought the whole Empire a little breathing room."
"At the price of two formal uniforms," Ursis observed. "Just look at the two of you!"
Drummond winced, glancing at himself in dismay, then at Brim. "We've done a job, all right," he said, shaking his head.
Brim agreed bleakly. Both knees were out of his trousers, and his coat had been blasted to ribbons. "Yeah," he agreed. "It's going to be tough going back into the reception like this."
Drummond chuckled. "The party is getting a tad out of hand, isn't it?"
"Nothing worse than a boring party," Ursis observed, standing back while two of Drummond's commandos half carried, half walked the bent and whimpering Valentin outside. "Wilf," the Bear added with mock sagacity, "you'd better take permanent possession of that trophy tomorrow; otherwise, someone's liable to be injured at these soirees."
Brim chuckled grimly. "I'll do my damndest, Nik," he promised, gladly stepping into the storm again. The odor of vomit had become a palpable entity inside. Suddenly he spied two figures walking rapidly toward him through the driving rain—and the short one was limping perceptibly.
"Anna!" he shouted, just as their way was abruptly blocked by three burly commandos materializing out of the shadows.
"Wilf!" Romanoff shouted over the noise of the storm. "Is that you? Are you all right?"
Suddenly, one of the commandos yelped and grabbed his shin. Romanoff dodged past him in an instant, limping along at a surprising clip, with two of the soldiers in hot pursuit.
Brim took off toward her like a shot, shouting. "Wait! She's all right! Don't!" He grabbed the little businesswoman by the waist and whirled around to shield her a scant instant before the two angry men slammed into his back with the force of a runaway starship. Down they all went in a bruising, gasping tangle of wet arms and legs, Brim supporting the weight of both men on his elbows and knees in a desperate attempt to keep the three of them from crushing Romanoff. "Anna," he whispered to a panting tangle of wet hair beside his cheek, "are you hurt?"
After a moment of silence, he heard a giggle in his ear. "I'm fine, Wilf," she said breathlessly. "But isn't three at a time sort of kinky for you—especially out here in the palace garden?"
"I say!" Moulding bellowed from somewhere overhead, "you two—off them, now. That's the fellows. Carefully, now..."
His voice was joined by that of Drummond. "At ease, men! Everything's all right!"
Abruptly, the load on Brim's back lifted, and far gentler hands began to pull at him. He shook them off while he knelt and eased Romanoff to her feet. "You sure you're not hurt?" he asked.
She nodded, futilely straightening the soaked and clinging remains of her dress, that now revealed a lot more than they concealed. "It was you I worried about," she said. "I got out on the balcony just in time to watch you chase Valentin into the garden—and when I saw the blaster flashes, I ran for Toby." She shook her head. "Rough party you brought me to tonight, Wilf Brim. Just look at your new uniform—and my dress!"