Tila dropped to one knee and raised her staff high, holding it horizontal to block the knife strikes from two agents. She retracted the staff, rolled between them and sprang back to her feet.

The agents took a second to recover their balance and momentum. Tila could spare a second. She looked to her mother, apparently cornered by the other three. Apparently. Her position was defensive, it closed avenues of attack, reducing the effectiveness of the agent numbers. Three could only fight as two. Tila knew her mother could handle two.

But could she?

Tila retreated through the centre of the mess hall, staff at full length to hold the agents at bay. She ignored the bodies on the floor all around her. The upright bodies with knives were the threat. Everything else was a distraction.

They came at her again, first one, then two.

Tila sidestepped around and past one, keeping her face to him as he passed by. She spun, following his direction, whipping the staff around her head like a helicopter. She caught one on the back of his head, kept spinning, kept turning, missed two, but drove him back all the same.

She pressed forward, chopping the staff through the air with yells and shouts. Even if she had the finesse and skill she longed for, it was all forgotten now. Now it was about hitting them first, and harder, than they hit you.

Two dodged one strike, then another. The third he caught in his free hand. Instinctively Tila tugged hard. Two pushed as she pulled, throwing Tila off balance. He rushed in, keeping up the pressure and swung an empty fist at her head.

Tila wobbled as the staff pushed past her and fortunately fell back enough to offset the worst of the punch. It still hurt. Her head snapped round. Her cheekbone felt like it had been split in half. Momentarily oblivious, she fell sprawling over a table. Her staff rolled out of reach.

Grace fought two agents at once. Uncoordinated, and with limited options, they attacked independently, forcing her to respond in kind. She couldn't retreat any further, and the furious strikes and slashes of the agent's knives meant she had devote all her skill to blocking. The tonfa met every strike, blunting them, turning them aside, or parrying them with glancing angles that screeched sharp blades across metal.

She was tiring, but so were they. She knew she only had to old out long enough for them to change tactics.

Then the moment came. The agent to her left, stepped aside to let the agent behind him come in fresh. That was her opening. In those three seconds she turned her defensive posture offensive, and brought two weapons to bear on the agent to her right instead of one. She parried a strike with her right arm, and now free from pressure on her left, threw her whole weight onto the blade, forcing it to the wall and trapping his fingers.

She punched with her left hand, hitting his prone elbow with the tip of the tonfa like a battering ram, and shattering the joint.

He screamed and fell to his knees. Grace let him fall. The new fresh agent stepped in and suddenly found the plan had changed. Instead of two against one, it was only him and Grace.

Grace dropped the tonfa in her right hand and snatched the knife by the handle in a reverse grip before it fell.

One and two stood each side of Tila and pulled her to her feet by her arms. She blinked through the stars, realised what was happening, and dropped, lifting her arms above her head to slip through their hands. She crawled under the table. Behind her, one and two bent down to chase her. Tila kicked the table leg, knocking the table out of position. One and two brought his forehead down onto a hard plastic surface that wasn't there before. He stood up, rubbing it and kicked the table over.

Tila was already gone, scrambling through a tunnel of table legs as fast as she could. The floor was covered in the detritus of the battle. Ketchup and mustard from broken condiment bottles smeared the floor. Tila kicked cutlery aside as she shuffled forward on sore hands and bruised knees. Behind her another table was tossed aside, than another. She half crawled, half rolled over the body of an unconscious pirate. Her hand slipped on a metal tray and she banged her chin on the floor. Sharp pain stabbed through her jaw.

Another table was tossed away by the agents. Tila kicked over the next one herself, hoping to buy more cover or more time.

The agents kicked it aside. Tila jumped to her feet and hit one square in the face with the metal tray, breaking his nose. Two stabbed with his knife, bring it up from a low stance, aiming to drive it into her stomach or under her ribs. Tila swung the tray down, turning the point aside with the flat underside. Two pulled back his hand to try again. Tila pulled back hers. She angled the tray edge on and smashed it down onto his wrist with a shout. The tray buckled. Something cracked. The agent cried out and the knife fell.

Tila dropped the tray. The odds were good now. No staff for her, a broken nose and a broken wrist for them. She started punching. Anything was a target. Everything was a target. She jabbed with fists, just she practiced at home. Jab, jab, one, two. Jab, punch, one, one. Punch, jab, two one. Jab, jab, punch, elbow, one, two, one, two.

One still had his knife. He slashed at Tila's face. She bobbed out of range, lunged forward and rammed his knife into the shoulder of number two with her palm.

Grace beat the agents back step by step. The tonfa gave her range their knives lacked, and she took full advantage of it. But the fight was still two against one, and she couldn't hold them off forever.

The two agents gave ground slowly, but they still gave it. Grace knew what was happening, what they planned. She let them lead her in. They couldn't dance forever, it was time to end this.

In a clearing amongst the bodies and furniture, they separated so one could move behind her.

Grace raised her weapons.

One raised his knife, blade down and struck. Tila kicked him in the leg and felt her boot connect with the sharp edge of his shin. She stamped on his foot. He stabbed down, missing her. She kicked again, driving her toes against the inside of his knee. Once. Twice. Something popped. He dropped the knife, dropped to his good knee and clutched his broken kneecap with both hands.

Tila took two steps backward to give herself the space she needed. Her target wasn't going anywhere. He looked up at her, hoping for mercy. She denied him. She side stepped toward him and kicked him in the face.

The immediacy of her own fight was over. She looked and saw her mother standing between two agents, a tonfa in her left hand and a knife in her right.

Tila quickly found her staff and snapped it open as she ran across the room.

The agents converged on Grace. She moved in a circle, taking them both at once. She parried with the tonfa and countered with the knife. Tila followed her lead, spinning with the momentum of the fight, all three of them turning like cogs in a violent machine.

Tila saw the second tonfa. She swept at it like a hockey stick.

'Catch!'

Her staff caught the weapon between handle and shaft and hooked it into the air. Grace and the agents turned to see. Grace dropped the knife, held out her hand and caught the tonfa. She flicked her wrist and spun it into position, tapped the weapons together and beckoned the agents forward.

Tila was still in motion. She jumped from floor to chair, from chair to table, and leaped high.

Grace turned, flailed at the agent behind her with one weapon to force him back. She completed the turn and caught the arm of the agent in front of her with one tonfa. She locked it in place with the second.

Tila arrived, bringing the staff over her head like an axe looking for a branch. Her blow shattered the outstretched arm. Grace released it, locked the other one vertically. Tila whirled the staff around and with a grunt broke that too.

He flopped onto the floor, unconscious from the pain.

Tila and Grace turned to the last agent. He looked from one to the other, raised one hand to show he meant no harm and slowly lowered his knife to the floor.

Tila started forward with a snarl. Her mother held her back.

'He's surrendered, Tila. You can't kill him.'

Tila pushed her mother's arm aside. 'I'm not going to kill him.'

The agent, seeing in their disagreement perhaps his last opportunity to escape, snatched up his knife again, and charged at Grace. He took only one step before doubling over, clutching his stomach.

Tila withdrew the butt of her staff. Grace withdrew the point of the tonfa.

'He stopped surrendering,' Grace admitted.

'Good. Hold this,' said Tila. She handed her staff to her mother, leaned back and punched the agent in the face with all her strength.

The agent dropped. Tila yelped and shook her hand.

Grace gave Tila back her staff. 'You should have used your elbow.'

'I know that now. It's been a long day, okay? Now, is it finally time to leave?'