Down in the rear of the hull Catskull rested on his knees, beyond the reach of the dusty beams of sunlight that filtered through the gunports. He contemplated the blade that lay before him, seeing not the ship around him nor the floor upon which he kneeled. He drew in deep breaths in through his nostrils and slowly exhaled through his mouth. Aside from the gentle motions of his respiration, he was statuesque. His mind was not. He recalled the basics that had been drilled into him his entire life.

[i]~There is timing in the whole life of the warrior, in his thriving and declining, in his harmony and discord. Similarly, there is timing in the Way of the merchant, in the rise and fall of capital. All things entail rising and falling timing.~[/i]

Catskull knew that this timing went by another name. [i]Tempo[/i]. Even from one style to another, separated by the breadth of the world, it stood true in the same way that the mythology of dragons could be found amongst many cultures regardless of time or location. Expand when the enemy contracts, and contract when they expand. It all begins the same way; with observation.

Catskull continued his meditations. He did not intend to leave, even for food or drink, until evening.