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Topic:  Tuk'ata: Up Close & Personal
Drac
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Drac
 
[VE-NAVY] Warrant Officer 1st Class
 
Post Number:  998
Total Posts:  2191
Joined:  Jan 2009
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  Tuk'ata: Up Close & Personal
June 10, 2010 6:03:39 PM    View the profile of Drac 
OOC:
Objective summarized at the bottom. This is an interim story until we get the joint training mission going. Cameos are welcome, just talk to me first.

Notes: Can an NHC members please pin this mission and un-pin Tuk'ata's other mission? Thank you.


Drac looked around the simulator complex with an almost nostalgic feeling. He had fond, if painful, memories of the place, having trained there with Nazgul once upon a time. The central room housed the command and control center as well as benches for resting and dispensers for hydration. A hatch in one wall led to showers. The remainder of the wall space was mostly taken up by hatches leading to the many simulator rooms. One pilot would enter each room and, though he didn’t understand the technology, Drac knew that within each room that pilot would face a simulation of one of the others, or even himself, in a completely realistic and random environment. The simulators were so good, in fact, that you even felt the pain of your injuries, though you didn’t truly sustain any. The most remarkable feature they boasted, however, blew even that away. Each time you fought, the system analyzed and memorized each move and added that experience to the simulated doubles it created- thus, every round of combat your double got smarter and more skilled, no matter who it faced.

Making his way over to the command and control area, Drac began to discuss the day’s simulations with the tech who would run them. They downloaded the files for each pilot and the various environments, while the tech talked enthusiastically about the system’s abilities, “I see that several of you have done this before. The system will still remember what it learned about you, even after all this time. Your doubles will, because of that, start off as more dangerous opponents than the others’ doubles will be. Any pilots facing them should take care.”

Their conversation continued for a few minutes as pilots began to trickle in. Once most of the squadron had assembled, Drac stood and turned away from the console and approached his pilots. He stopped where they could all see him, but in an informal manner, nodding at Stewart Power as the other Mon Calamari entered the room and took a seat. A moment later, Drac began, “Good. Everyone’s here. Today we’ll be doing some melee combat training.” A chorus of groans and complaints emanated from the pilots in reply, mostly confirming their general opinion that hand to hand fighting was for the Army. “Quiet, please. I know it’s not the norm, but there are a variety of situations in which such training can come in handy. In my personal experience –experience several of you share- I’ve been in fights on the ground, in fights on space stations and ships, had to fight after being shot down, and participated in more bar fights than I care to mention. Melee combat skills are useful- if only for clearing out the local tavern. I’d like to note that this is a variation on similar training some of our senior pilots have done, in which any weapon was allowed. We may do a session of that at a later date, but today is melee only.”

At that moment the hatch swung open again, admitting a blonde haired human male wearing a smart uniform and a rather lopsided smile. Drac looked at him with his left eye, an expression of surprise, “Hunter. It’s good to see you, but why are you here? I had assumed your new duties would have dragged you off somewhere by now.”

The Chief Warrant Officer shrugged, his grin changing not at all, “Not yet. I heard about the training and wondered if I might sit in.”

Drac considered for a moment before nodding, “Sure. We’d be happy to have you.”

Resuming his briefing, the Mon Calamari pointed toward the line of hatches, “Each of us will go into one of the rooms spaced around this central chamber. Inside you will face a simulated opponent in a simulated environment. Both your opponent and your environment will be random in all but the first round of combat, but your opponents will all be duplicates of members of the squadron. The first round, the only one with a set opponent, will pit you against your own duplicate. Your objective in every round will be to defeat your given opponent using any means possible- but you will have no access to blasters, grenades, or any other sort of ranged weapon beyond any object you might find to throw. Be aware that you can be defeated, though, and you will feel simulated injuries.

“There is one more thing you all need to know: These simulated opponents will learn more with every round of combat. The system will analyze your performance and will add your capabilities to your duplicate’s. After a while, they will know pretty much everything you do- and that’s when things really get interesting. Any questions?”

There were several. Once they’d sorted through them, though, Drac directed everyone to check their weapons and enter the simulators. The pilots could carry any personal weapons they liked, with the exception of ranged weapons. A quick check of his own person assured the Warrant Officer that his weapons were all accounted for: two durasteel combat knives rested in their sheathes on his left wrist and ankle, while a Sat’skar sword hung from his belt. The sword was the weapon he used least often, though he thoroughly enjoyed using the sharp blade. Satisfied he was ready, he watched the last of Tuk’ata’s pilots enter their simulators and, with a nod to Hunter and the techs, entered his own.

Moments later the empty chamber disappeared, replaced with a small courtyard. The flowing architecture seemed to indicate the fight was taking place in one of Dac’s many floating cities. His opponent, a perfect copy of himself right down to the cross shaped scar and birthmark, stood silently opposite him, equipped with matching weaponry from all appearances. Drac knelt, tightening the laces of his combat boots, and stood, having palmed one of his combat knives during the intentional distraction. Turning his head left, so that his right eye regarded his opponent in a blatant challenge, he smiled, “Let’s dance.”

OOC:
Word Count: 1008

Your orders are all there in the post, but here’s a summary so no one gets confused:

-Your first opponent is yourself
--All subsequent opponents are random- in other words, they’re your choice as a writer.
-All combat is melee aside from any object you can throw (no grenades).
-Just like in space combat, make it a challenge. Your opponents will become more skilled as you go, so choose a pilot or two to lose against.
--Also, be as descriptive as you can.
--Try to make each post a full story if you can- in other words, one complete fight per post.
--Hunter, Slasher, and I have done this before (if I missed anyone, let me know). Our duplicates should be the most dangerous.

IF you have the time to write more, I will NOT penalize anyone for double posting on this story. There's little to no interaction between PCs, so there's no reason for that restriction this time.

Here’s the link to the first story this was done in, Nazgul - Interim
SC/WO1 Drac/A-1/S:26 Tuk'ata/W:1 Javelin/mSSD Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE
[SoA][MC:2][MC:1][NSR:H][NT:H][CBV][SOV][SoL][NSM]
(=*A*=)(=*SA*=)

Drac's VE Wiki Profile: http://www.vastempire.com/wiki/index.php?title=Drac
Imperial Network Star Wars Image
This is what it is
This is who I am
This is where I finally take my stand
I didnt want to fall
But I don't have to crawl
I'm not the One with two scarred hands
Giving him the best of everything thats left of
The life inside this man
I've been Born Again.
[This message has been edited by Drac (edited June 10, 2010 6:06:25 PM)]
Stewart-Power
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Stewart-Power
 
[VE-NAVY] Chief Petty Officer
 
Post Number:  453
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  RE: Tuk'ata: Up Close & Personal
June 11, 2010 11:42:20 PM    View the profile of Stewart-Power 
===== Training Simulation =====

Stewart-Power tapped his foot against the ground, expecting to feel duro-steel beneath his feet. What he felt instead, was damp wooden planks. Moments after this realization hit Thel, he began to smell his environment. The smells of moisture, water, and foliage wafted through his sense of smell. Thel looked up, to find that his environment matched the smells. All around appeared to be a swamp, and the wooden planks he was standing on was a raised platform, in the shape of a ring. Suddenly it dawned on him; he was standing in a fight ring.

All around him, spectators began to materialize. Most of them appeared to be Trandoshan, although a few female Twi'leks could be seen trying to chat up the mostly drunk crowd. Thel then directed his attention towards the figure materializing in front him. The outline of a Mon Calamari could be seen, and then the features began to fill in. The translucent model began to fill in with a navy blue colour, and individual details began to become visible. After a few moments an exact replica of Thel stood in front of him, returning the same left-eyed stare.

The duplicate began to move, and Thel, his curiosity over, now challenged the duplicate with a right-eyed stare. The duplicate returned the stare, pacing around Thel. Thel didn't move, except for his eye and minuscule twitches of his head, as to give away as little information as possible to the duplicate.

Thel stepped his foot forward with such suddenness that the duplicate nearly jumped back. Thel took advantage of the duplicates momentary stun, and delivered a kick squarely in the duplicates chest. The duplicate was knocked back, but countered by dropping to one knee. Using his hands to brace himself, the duplicate delivered a head-butt right to Thel's stomach. With the breath knocked out of him, Thel stumbled backwards a few steps. He regained his balance just as his duplicate swung wildly with his right arm. Thel neatly ducked, and rolled the side, now facing the duplicates left side.

Thel's fighting style was a mixture of sloppy street-learned fighting techniques, with the military-honed sharp instincts. Often in a fight, Thel would gain the advantage in a fight, only to lose it due to a sloppy strike, or misplaced footing. This time, Thel was determined to not let this happen, by delivering an upper-cut to his opponents rib-cage. The duplicate whirled around, right into a hay-maker from Thel's right fist. The duplicate spun around then fell over.

Thel walked over to deliver the final kicks to his opponent while he was down. But as Thel got close, his duplicate rolled over, and in the process, tripped Thel. As Thel crashed to the ground, his duplicate charged him, planning to jump on Thel and smash him with his elbow. As the duplicate charged, he instead met both of Thel's heels right under his chin. Thel got up to the once again stunned duplicate and delivered a round-house kick to the back of the duplicates head. The duplicate crashed to the ground, spitting blood out of his mouth, and turned to face Thel. Instead all he received was a swift kick to the face.

Thel stepped back for a moment to catch his breath and regain some energy. He watched with curiosity as his opponent slowly rose to his knees, then his feet. Much of the blood now dripping down the duplicates face had collected in a pool in front of the duplicated feet. Thel leaned in with a fake, causing the duplicate to lean in as well with a counter-attack. As the duplicate stepped forward, the pool of blood at feet caused him to lose his balance, and the duplicate once again crashed down to the ground.

This time Thel's opponent had fallen on his side, and Thel watched as his duplicates energy drained out of his breath, like the blood on his face, pooling once again. The Mon Cal duplicate made one more, final, effort to rise. But it failed, and lay back down on the now sodden wood. Thel hadn't noticed earlier, but it had begun to rain. Now the rain was washing away the sweat, blood and tears of the wooden planks of the fight ring.

As the victorious Mon Cal left the ring, to the sound of simulated cheering, the program slowly faded. Thel opened the sim, and looked around at the other simulation stations, most pilots where still fighting, but a few had congregated in the command room of the simulation complex. A few minutes after Thel entered, he saw the remaining pilot's filter in, looking in the general direction of Drac, waiting anxiously for the next set of instructions.


OOC:
Word cont: 789. Care to out-do me anyone?
FL/CPO "Thel" Stewart-Power/Γ-1/S:26 Tuk'ata/W:1 Javelin/mSSD Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE
(=A=)[MC2][MC1][SoL]
Self proclaimed "Navy Ground-Pounder"
[...] <= Banner of Ellipses...
http://www.vastempire.com/wiki/index.php?title=Stewart-Power
"Shiny! Let's be bad guys!" -Jayne (Firefly/Serenity)

Clearly Canadian!
Amacuse
ComNet Member
 
Amacuse
 
[VE-NAVY] Chief Petty Officer
 
Post Number:  300
Total Posts:  1046
Joined:  Feb 2010
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  RE: Tuk'ata: Up Close & Personal
June 12, 2010 1:35:59 AM    View the profile of Amacuse 
OOC:
Just as clarification, this will take place 10 days before my post on Onderonian Liberation.  Just so you guys (especially Stewart) don't think I'm making a rookie mistake, cause I'm not.


Cayden stepped in to the simulator and readied himself, drawing his vibroblade.  He expected the deck plating of a ship, but instead felt the unmistakable softness of grass.  He looked around, and noticed that he was in a small clearing in the forests of Onderon.  Well now... this should be interesting... he thought as his opponent walked out of the trees.  He saw himself, except there was one distinguishable difference: his duplicate was wearing an Onderonian Imperialist uniform instead of a Royalist uniform.  Even got my history right... give me something to hate and fear... my fighting for the enemy.

Cayden stood there, watching his opponent, studying him.  His opponent was obviously doing the same.

"Hey, can you speak?" Cayden asked.

The duplicate didn't say a word, instead he raised his blade to his face, then moved into a combat ready stance.

I guess he's not in the talking mood he thought as he dropped into his stance, shifting his weight onto his right leg as he leaned back, blade pointed towards his enemy by his face.  The duplicate charged and swung down violently, and Cayden quickly jumped to the right, rolling on the ground.  He came up just in time to deflect another swing.  Their blades clashed, the ringing of metal resounding through the forest.  Okay, now I'm going to have fun he thought as he punched his opponent in the gut with his left hand, propelling the duplicate back a few feet.  Cayden stook up and brushed the grass from his uniform and fell back into his combat ready stance.

This time, though, he charged, swinging his blade up from the ground, catching his duplicate off-guard.  He barely deflected the blow before Cayden began raining blows repeatedly down on the duplicates blade, forcing him to give up plenty of ground.  The duplicate broke away suddenly and began running around the ring.  Cayden began chasing after him.  He reached down, picked up a rock, and chucked it at his opponent.  It hit him square in the back, knocking him to the ground.

Cayden stood over his fallen opponent, a feeling of victory rushing through him.  Just as he was about to deliver the final blow, the duplicate instead flipped over and knocked the blade clean from Cayden's hands, forcing him to back away before the duplicate could begin attacking.  Cayden began searching for another rock, but realized the only one was by the other's feet.  his opponent began walking towards him, his blade held high.  Just as he was about to strike, Cayden quickly ripped a branch from a nearby tree and clubbed the duplicate in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him.  Cayden ran up and grabbed the blade out of his hands and knocked him to the ground.  Helpless, the duplicate began waving his arms, as if he was surrendering.  Instead of finishing him off, Cayden handed him his vibroblade.  He walked over and grabbed his own and fell back into his combat ready stance.  The duplicate stood up, a look of bewilderment on his face.

"If I defeat you, I want to do it honorably.  I will not kill a helpless opponent," he said, sweat falling down his smiling face.

His opponent nodded, then fell into a similar stance.

Cayden then did something he knew he had little chance of succeeding with: he threw his vibroblade at his opponent.  The duplicate was caught offguard, and dropped to the ground.  Cayden ran at his opponent and body slammed him, knocking the wind out of both of them.  Cayden slowly got back up and grabbed his vibroblade.  He took two steps back as his opponent stood up and brushed the grass and dirt off of himself.  Cayden then began raining blows down on him hard, his opponent flaaing backwards with every blow.  His opponent then dropped his vibroblade, and one of Cayden's blows fell deep into his shoulder, lodging itself in his scapula.  His opponent cried out in pain, then kicked Cayden away.  He grabbed Cayden's vibroblade and tossed it into the trees, then tacked Cayden to the ground.

Cayden attempted to draw a knife out of his boot, but instead was punched hard in the stomach by the duplicate.  The duplicate began raining punches down on Cayden's chest and face, forcing him to protect his face with his arms.  He rained blows capable of making holes in walls, then unexpectedly stopped.  Cayden took this moment to throw his opponent off himself and grab his knife.  He then tackled his opponent down and stabbed him through in the stomach, spilling blood and bile everywhere.  The duplicate began to flicker from solid composure to semi-transparent.  He attempted to throw Cayden off, but his arms instead fell to the ground.  Cayden then shoved his knife deep into the duplicate's chest, ending the fight then and there.

He stood up and watched as the body of his duplicate disappeared and the room returned to its normal state.  Cayden walked out of the simulator and saw that Stewart was already in the lounge area.  He decided to walk over, sit on the couch, and rest... before Drac decided to throw a rancor, or worse, at them.

OOC:
WC: 865
Not as classy as Stewart's, yet gets the job done.  I just hope the next one goes great.
Chief Petty Officer Cayden "Amacuse" Tavers

FM/CPO Amacuse/Γ-2/S:26 Tuk'ata/W:1 Javelin/mSSD Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE (=AE=) (=*SAE*=) [IG]
Drac
ComNet Veteran
 
Drac
 
[VE-NAVY] Warrant Officer 1st Class
 
Post Number:  1004
Total Posts:  2191
Joined:  Jan 2009
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  RE: Tuk'ata: Up Close & Personal
June 12, 2010 10:40:13 AM    View the profile of Drac 
Drac lunged at his opponent, revealing his knife as he swung it in an overhand strike meant to cut the duplicate deeply from shoulder to hip. Instead a metallic peal sounded through the courtyard as the duplicate blocked with its own knife. Drac jumped back, putting ten yards between them while regarding the simulated copy of himself with a measuring look. So. They really do remember and learn, even after months and months. That trick worked last time, after all. That’s okay, though- he hasn’t gotten any better in all that time. On the other hand, I’ve been through hell and back since last we fought. Stepping forward, the Mon Cal quickly flipped the knife so he held its blade and then flicked his arm forward in a blur of motion so that the knife spun toward his opponent.

The throw was an inexpert one- knife throwing was a skill Drac had only lately begun to cultivate, after all –but had the desired effect, if only by accident. Rather than sinking its durasteel blade into the duplicate’s chest as he’d intended, the throw resulted in the combat knife’s heavy hilt pegging the other Mon Cal squarely in the right eye. The duplicate cried out in pain, clutching at the offended location with its right hand, having dropped the knife it held. His cry muffled Drac’s steps as the Mon Cal silently drew his other combat knife from its sheath and charged. He swung at his opponent’s exposed throat, planning to end the fight with one decisive blow. Unfortunately, the duplicate managed to see him coming and threw his other arm up. Rather than slicing through the duplicate’s windpipe, Drac’s knife sunk into its arm, creating a large gash before he ripped it free and stepped back to assess the damage to his opponent.

The duplicate glanced at the knife on the ground for a moment, then reached over and drew the Sat’skar sword that hung from its left hip and held it in a ready position with its right hand. Its left arm was up too, as if to block a blow, but the hand was limp. Blood dripped from its fingers in a steady beat and Drac was sure he’d sliced the tendons that provided movement. He didn’t have long to consider that small victory, though, as his opponent advanced quickly- so quickly, in fact, that he gave Drac no chance to draw his own sword.

Drac danced backward, parrying first one blow and then another, and then ducking a third. Their blows were fast and graceful. Each move was more than capable of bringing sudden, painful death- swordsmanship was nothing new to Drac, after all. If any one person in the squadron could beat him, in fact, it would be Slasher. He doubted any of the others were as skilled.

The duplicate kept pressing him, giving him no chance to regroup and no room to move around it. Each slice and thrust drove the Mon Cal back further toward one of the courtyard’s corners. Drac nearly stumbled and fell as he approached the corner, as his heels hit a rectangle of floor there that was raised some four inches above the plating in the rest of the room. The pilot stepped back and up, taking advantage of the sudden increase in height to make his own attack: a swing at his opponent’s arm as a counterstrike to a dodged blow.

The counter-offensive was destined to be short, though, and the duplicate joined him on the platform a moment later and continued its assault. This time, with much less room to work with, Drac was much harder pressed to avoid the blows his simulated self kept raining down on him. Indeed, in short order he received a number of small wounds: shallow slices on the right bicep, left thigh, and the cranial dome just above his left eye. Each cut stung like a red hot wire placed on his skin, but it was the cut on his head that was truly dangerous. Blood from the wound ran down into his eye, stinging and blurring his vision. Sithspit. If I don’t do something and fast, this fight’s over. He had managed to wound his opponent a couple more times as well, but none of those wounds were serious.

Looking around, it hit Drac that this was a very peculiar courtyard indeed. It was devoid of decoration of any sort, which was odd in itself, but it also lacked for doors or streets adjoining it. Recognition sparked and the Mon Calamari looked behind him with a quick glance. It confirmed his guess. It wasn’t a courtyard, but rather a dry dock for the submersibles his people so often used for trips to the deeper areas of the ocean floor. Behind him stood several things: a large blast door for moving supplies and equipment in and out, a standard door for foot traffic, and the console that controlled the dry dock mechanism.

The duplicate lunged at Drac, intending to use the pilot’s momentary distraction to run him through. Drac was watching with his other eye, though, and dodged the thrust. His opponent’s momentum carried it too far forward, allowing Drac to snap a side kick into its ribs with vicious force. Turning away as the duplicate tumbled backward, the Mon Cal quickly tried the door access. It was locked. Cursing under his breath, he did the only other thing he could think of and slapped the emergency access on the dry dock’s main doors- the ones that made up most of the floor. With a loud groan of machinery and a heavy vibration the doors began to retract into the walls, opening the way for the sea to come in.

The seam in the center of the dry dock separated after a moment, allowing a wall of water to burst up through the gap with a roar that put rancors to shame. In moments Drac was standing in water up to his knees. Seconds later it eddied around his waist and, within thirty seconds, he took one final breath with his mouth before drawing his sword and diving forward into the turbulent flow. From here on out, his gills would do the breathing for him. If I were facing anyone but myself…or Stewart…this fight would be over now. As it is I’ve only upped the ante.

There was, however, one critical thing Drac forgot to take into account. It changed everything when he charged his duplicate after locating it in the chaotic water. Surging forward through the water at top speed, Drac drove a thrust straight at his opponent’s head from its left side. The duplicate tried to turn and meet his attack, but its maimed hand slowed it down. Unable to bring its own sword to bear and unable to move in time, the duplicate simply closed its eyes. Half a second later Drac drove his blade straight through the simulated opponent’s head. Blood gushed from the holes in each side of the duplicate’s cranial dome, turning the water dark and inky . The cloud seemed to expand far too fast, quickly turning the water black in every direction. A moment later it faded away, leaving Drac standing on the metal plating of the training simulator’s floor, his sword held low by his side. He stretched, feeling slightly fatigued by the exercise, and went over to pick his combat knives up off the floor.

When Drac exited the simulator he found the majority of the squadron gathered outside near the screens that showed what was going on in each ‘room.’ Several of them looked over and nodded, looking a bit impressed with the way his fight turned out. Stewart was the first to speak, “So what’s next?”

Drac just smiled, sliding his second knife home into its wrist sheath, “When you’re ready, head back into the sims for another round. This time you’ll be facing someone else- have fun…and try not to die, eh?”

OOC:
Word Count: 1333
SC/WO1 Drac/A-1/S:26 Tuk'ata/W:1 Javelin/mSSD Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE
[SoA][MC:2][MC:1][NSR:H][NT:H][CBV][SOV][SoL][NSM]
(=*A*=)(=*SA*=)

Drac's VE Wiki Profile: http://www.vastempire.com/wiki/index.php?title=Drac
Imperial Network Star Wars Image
This is what it is
This is who I am
This is where I finally take my stand
I didnt want to fall
But I don't have to crawl
I'm not the One with two scarred hands
Giving him the best of everything thats left of
The life inside this man
I've been Born Again.
Hunter-Morrell
ComNet Marshal
 
Hunter-Morrell
 
[VE-NAVY] Chief Warrant Officer
[VE-VEEC] Word Slinger
 
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  RE: Tuk'ata: Up Close & Personal
June 12, 2010 10:39:31 PM    View the profile of Hunter-Morrell 
Hunter walked towards the sim room with his hands shoved in his pockets, slightly hunched over. He really couldn't quite comprehend what he was feeling at the moment, now that he was no longer in the Star Fighter Corps. It was astonishing mix of hurt, slight anger, sadness, and . . . relief, among others. The hurt was because he had been in the SFC for so long and now knew that he wouldn't be seeing all those friends he had made on a daily basis. Sighing, he looked up and saw a sign designating the sim room that Tuk'ata was in. The slight anger was because of the previous reason. Most everything that he had come to know, would have to be left behind. Seeing the sign, he straightened up and made a beeline for it. The sadness was easy, not too many days went by where he wasn't sad in one way or another. He plastered a grin on his face, hoping it didn't look too cheesy or fake. The relief was not so easy.

Maybe it was because of the same exact reason that he felt those other feelings; he was leaving. It would be a change of routine, not temporary, but permanent. This would open up new opportunities for Hunter that he hadn't had before. With that thought, everything washed away and he felt satisfaction. Content, the grin on his face grew and actually reached his eyes, giving him the look that he usually had when happy. It felt good to be like this. He was free.

Punching a button beside the door, he stepped in as it whooshed open. It was so dark that he could barely see, but then he realized that it was just the fact that his eyes hadn't become accustomed to the dim lights yet, as opposed to the bright light outside. He blinked a moment, then kept his grin up as he recognized all of the beings seated before him.

Drac, being the Mon Cal he was, swiveled an eye in Hunter's direction, “Hunter. It’s good to see you, but why are you here? I had assumed your new duties would have dragged you off somewhere by now.”

Shrugging, Hunter responded, “Not yet. I heard about the training and wondered if I might sit in.”

Drac paused for a few seconds and then nodded, “Sure. We’d be happy to have you.”

Choosing a seat behind everybody else, he studied them as Drac continued with the briefing, though he still kept an ear on what Drac was saying. All of them he knew to differing degrees. He was actually quite surprised to see a face he hadn't seen in a long time. Fulfiller sat a few rows ahead of him, staring fixedly at Drac. How long had it been since they were in Kaph together? Too long.

Hunter looked back to Drac as he finished speaking and starting motioning everyone towards their own sims. Thinking back to what Drac had said, Hunter made sure he knew what was to come. So this is another sim like the one Drac, Slasher, and I participated in back in Nazgul. That particular one was fun, and I imagine this one will be too. And we have to have our weapons with us when we go into the sim? I don't remember that. Hmm. At the moment, the only weapons Hunter had on him was a FSK-7 combat knife and two sets of Flyhigh throwing knives, eight in all. Sighing, he got up and walked over to his chosen sim, pausing to return a nod to Drac, who then entered his own sim. Again, he checked his knives and made sure that they were in easy reach, his combat knife in its sheath on his right shin and the throwing knives strapped to his belt. Pulling his combat knife out, his flipped it in the air, twisting his wrist as he did so to make it spin in the air. As it fell, he reached out and deftly picked it out of the air. Satisfied, he stepped into the dark sim.

OOC:
WC: 690. Yeah, sorry Drac. I promised it was going to be a long post, but frankly, I got all the way to this part and then I got distracted and I only got back to it at like 11:30 PM. I have church in the morning so I'm probably going to have to go to bed in a little bit, hence why I went on and posted this. I'll try and post the rest of it (as a seperate post, not as an addition to this one) tomorrow.
NLO/CWO Hunter Morrell/W:1 "Javelin"/Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE
(=A=)(=SA=)(=ME=)(=*MAE*=) [CBV.][NS-1][SWC][BRC][VC:B][SoL][NSR]

Imperial Network Star Wars Image
Stewart-Power
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Stewart-Power
 
[VE-NAVY] Chief Petty Officer
 
Post Number:  461
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  RE: Tuk'ata: Up Close & Personal
June 13, 2010 12:15:57 AM    View the profile of Stewart-Power 
OOC:
867 Words. 0_o What is my word count doing before my post? You'll see


===== Simulator Room =====

Stewart-Power walked up to a table in the command room. Drac had just finished telling Tuk'ata what their next objective was, and he decided that he was going to fought another person, he would need an advantage, especially if his opponent was more experienced then him. Luckily for Thel, the simulator room had a variety of melee weapons on a table in the corner of the room. He picked up one-handed vibro-axe, nodded with approval, and walked over to his simulator.

===== Training Simulation =====

Stewart-Power was nearly blinded by the snow swirling around him. looking around him he could make out the outlines of two things. A pair of mountains in the distance behind him, and in front of him, the outline of a human. With one eye on the mountain range, and one eye on the figure, a realization dawned upon Thel; Rhen Var. He was on the snowy world of Rhen Var. Another thought came to Thel's mind. That thought soon turned into a suspicion. A suspicion that was proved correct moments later. As the figure moved forward, details began to become apparent. At first, the robe was what confirmed Thel's suspicion for him. It was the robe of an Onderon Royalist, and therefore, Amacuse; AKA Cayden Tavers. Cayden continued walking forward until his less powerful eyesight managed to identify the Mon Calamari standing in front of him. Thel watched as Cayden halted, or rather a simulated Cayden halted.

Instead of greeting the Mon Cal with a joust, as Thel expected, Cayden's duplicate instead drew his vibro-blade and fell into a combat-ready stance. With about five metres apart from each other, Thel started to walk forward slowly, gripping the handle of his vibro-axe. If Thel could disarm Cayden, he could use the rest of his weight to knock the pilot over. Once the duplicate of Cayden was down, all that would remain would be to deliver the final blow. If all went well, it would be a short and easy fight. Things never go according to plan.

As Thel got close, Cayden swung, as the Mon Cal expected, but as the FL swung down upon the sword, intending to catch the blade of the sword with the hook on the bottom of the axe, instead the clang of metal on metal rang in both of the opponent's ears. Both of them took a step back, their blade quivering in the snow storm. The duplicated Cayden, partially blinded by the snow, swung wildly at Thel, But the Flight lead simply ducked under the sloppy attack. The Mon Cal used Cayden's momentarily off-balance stance, to head-butt the simulation in the stomach. Cayden's simulation went down on the snow, with Thel right on top of him.

Remembering his axe, he swung to hook Cayden's blade once more. This time it was a success, and Thel smashed the bade into the snow-covered ice with as much force as he could muster. The blade of the axe got stuck in the ice, locking the vibro-blade with it.
Step one, check. He thought to himself. He was now lying perpendicular to Cayden, pinning him down. He followed this thought with a weak knee to the ribs. Cayden groaned in pain, and tried to roll over. Thel let him by getting off and standing up, regaining his stance and readying for another skirmish.

As, Cayden slowly rose, he saw his blade, and tried to quickly pull it free. Thel responded to this with a swift kick to the simulations chest, followed by a kick to it's now exposed face. Thel stomped on the simulation's abdomen with crushing force, and the helpless human curled up into a ball in a futile gesture of defence. Thel simply followed the stomp with another swift kick to the hapless forms ribcage. The figure extended as pain shot through his body. His bloodied mouth attempted to speak, but the pain was unbearable. Along with the loss of blood the simulation skin began to turn a shade of blue as the biting wind brought an inset on hypothermia to the dying figures body.

Thel looked down to the right of his foot, where the vibro-blade and axe lay embedded in the ice. He pulled on both of them with his remaining strength. He pulled both the blades out, and held one weapon in each hand. he brought both weapons to bear upon the simulated Cayden's neck, and lopped the young pilot' duplicate's head off. The stinging wind faded away along with the simulation.

It had been a rather one-sided battle, but Thel had had the advantage of better sight, more experience, and more weight. The same mechanisms which prevented water from getting into Thel's eye also prevented the snow. Having fought himself, he was warmed up for battle, physically, and mentally. As well, if on top, Thel easily pin the younger pilot down on the ground. The ending was inevitable really, yet Thel still wasn't disappointed.

Allowing himself a small smile as he saw Cayden's non-decapitated body exit his simulation, he thought to himself; Well, I definitely wouldn't mind it my next fight is just as easy.

Things never go as planned.
FL/CPO "Thel" Stewart-Power/Γ-1/S:26 Tuk'ata/W:1 Javelin/mSSD Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE
(=A=)[MC2][MC1][SoL]
Self proclaimed "Navy Ground-Pounder"
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http://www.vastempire.com/wiki/index.php?title=Stewart-Power
"Shiny! Let's be bad guys!" -Jayne (Firefly/Serenity)

Clearly Canadian!
[This message has been edited by Stewart-Power (edited June 13, 2010 12:17:10 AM)]
[This message has been edited by Stewart-Power (edited June 13, 2010 12:17:42 AM)]
Hunter-Morrell
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Hunter-Morrell
 
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  RE: Tuk'ata: Up Close & Personal
June 13, 2010 10:22:58 PM    View the profile of Hunter-Morrell 
OOC:
WC: 1809. Be warned, its a doozy


Everything was black. Nothing could be heard, felt, or seen. Then, abruptly, it all hit him at once. The wind whipped at him, sending snowflakes whirling at his hair and down the back of his jacket. Wait. When did I get a jacket? Looking down at himself, he did indeed have on a jacket, one that looked to be made out of some kind of heat-retaining material. It did his job well, excluding parts of his face, he didn't feel cold anywhere. Then he realized he had on goggles and a face mask. Woah. Where did these come from? Checking himself out, he noticed that the jacket and pants he wore were both a snug fit, tight enough to keep his body heat from leaking out, but loose enough where it wouldn't restrict his motion. Thats good. I'm going to need it for the fight ahead. He also wore small gloves that were apparently fitted to his hand because they weren't loose anywhere and looked almost like his exact hand. Also good. I don't need anything that will inhibit my dexterity. I need it for my knives.

Satisfied that he would be able to fight properly, Hunter studied his surroundings. He was standing in what looked to be a small depression in the ground, which was covered with snow and ice. Hmm. Where could I be . . . oh. Rhen Var. Duh. That was a stupid question. Mentally hitting himself, Hunter climbed out of the depression and looked over the rim. All around him was a white plain. You have got to be kidding me. How the frak am I going to find the clone? Wait. Might as well refer to him as Not-Hunter, because its a cool name to call someone and it actually makes it a lot less impersonal. Sighing, he climbed up out of the depression and stood up, looking around. Pissed off at whatever tech decided to put him in here, he began to walk.

It had been no more than a few minutes. Hunter was grumbling to himself when he stumbled and fell into another depression similar to the one he had climbed out of minutes earlier. Rolling down the slope, he came to stop in a heap at the bottom. Standing up, he brushed himself off and cursed himself for not watching where he was stepping. He could have broken a leg or an arm or some other body part. The cursing stopped when he turned around and saw what was occupying the bottom of the depression with him.

"No. Frakking. Way. How in - What the - Huh?!?!" Hunter could barely form coherent sentences, much less comprehend what was in front of him.

Stepping forward - or more like stumbling - Hunter just gaped at the extremely familiar sight. It was a vehicle, a dune buggy to be exact, modified for use in the snow and ice. It the very buggy that Hunter himself had built on Rhen Var out of scrap and spare parts that he managed to find, right down to the thruster on the back that had been taken from a crashed starfighter. He gazed in disbelief at it as he walked forward and scrutinized it. After a bit, he stood up and climbed inside. The controls were the same too. Amazed, he started it up and hit the accelerator. The buggy immediately zoomed forward and up the slope and over the top.

"Wow. Just wow." Hunter said to himself.

The buggy was even more powerful than he had remembered. Shaking his head in silent amusement, he started off, searching for the Not-Hunter.




Surprisingly, it didn't take long to find him. Another surprise was in store also. Hunter could barely hear it over the roar of his own engine, but there was another roar as well. It slowly drew closer until it was almost on the unsuspecting Hunter. Somehow, Hunter sensed something was wrong and hit the brakes. Immediately, a buggy very similar to his own -no, an exact duplicate of mine- raced by. If Hunter hadn't of slowed down, the other buggy would have slammed into him, most likely killing him instantly. Hunter took note of that fact and turned the wheel, maneuvering his own buggy behind the Not-Hunter's. He had closed the distance to somewhere around seven meters when he saw the Not-Hunter shoot a quick glance behind him. Abruptly, the Not-Hunter's buggy skidded to a halt and Hunter was forced to swerve to avoid him. Even with his quick reaction time born out of years of piloting, he wasn't quite fast enough to fully avoid a collision. And quick flick of the wrist and he was shooting to the right. Unfortunately, if there had be even just a meter more between the two buggies, there might have been enough time to put a little space between them, but alas, there wasn't. With a sickening crunch, the back end of Hunter's buggy hit the Not-Hunter's, which sent Hunter into an uncontrollable set of flips and simply spun the Not-Hunter's buggy onto its side.

Twelve seconds later, and it was all over. Both vehicles had settled down and were still. The Not-Hunter's buggy was lying on its side with the Not-Hunter still in it, while Hunter's was surprisingly upright. However, Hunter had been thrown from it during one of the initial flips. He was lying a few meters away from the wreckage of the destroyed buggy, spread-eagled. Slowly, he began to rise, clutching his stomach as he did so. Getting on his feet, he winced as a incredibly sharp pain shot through his side. Must have broken a rib or something. Possibly even internal injuries. Though, I'm lucky I came away with just this. He spit on the ground and recoiled when he saw blood mixed in with it. Oh frak. Either I busted something in my mouth or I do have internal injuries. Grr. Probing the inside of his mouth with his tounge, he found no ginger spots nor did he find any taste of blood. Ok then. Definitely some kind of internal injury, though it will be impossible to tell how bad. Either way, I need to end this now.

Hunter looked over to the Not-Hunter's buggy and saw movement. Knowing that there was no way he would be able to reach the buggy in time to intercept the Not-Hunter before he got to his feet, Hunter drew two of his throwing knives and weighed them in his palms, quickly calculating the distance between the two, so that he would know precisely how much power to put behind his throw. Unfortunately for him, he lacked the necessary dexterity in his left hand to be able to throw a knife with any kind of accuracy, meaning that after throwing one knife, he'd have to take a few seconds to switch the other knife over to his right hand. A few seconds could mean either life or death.

He watched as the Not-Hunter stood up and cocked his arm behind his head, ready to loose the knife. The Not-Hunter was fully standing now and was holding his head. Maybe he was injured too. Serves him right. Though, now that I think about it, that was something I would have done. Wait a minute . . . Hunter then realized what the Not-Hunter was about to do, because it was something he himself would have done. For starters, Hunter knew that his buggy came with a blaster pistol, just in case, located in a pouch on the side of the seat. What the Not-Hunter didn't know, was that Hunter had his throwing knives. Quickly, he aimed and threw the first knife at the Not-Hunter, just as the Not-Hunter turned around and fired the blaster pistol. Knowing that he wouldn't be fast enough to avoid the blaster shot, he just sidestepped and caught the blaster shot that was meant for his chest, on his shoulder, spinning him around and onto the snowy ground. Clenching his teeth in pain and trying not to cry out, he gripped his shoulder. Lucky enough for him, he had subconsciously stepped to the right, bring his left shoulder into the line of fire.

Immediately after the blaster shot hit him, he heard a cry of pain and it took him a few seconds to work out that it hadn't come from him. Crawling over to the side of his wrecked buggy, he peeked out around it and saw the Not-Hunter kneeling in the snow, clutching the right side of his neck while blood gushed down his neck and stained the ground. Instantly, Hunter knew what had happened. It had been a stroke of luck, but the knife had hit the Not-Hunter apparently right below his jaw on the right side of his neck, nicking his jugular vein. Then its over.

Standing up, he walked over to the kneeling figure.

"You've won. Good job." the Not-Hunter said, gasping slightly as he did, "I know I'm close to death. Just do me a favor and let me die fighting."

Pausing for a moment, Hunter spoke, "Its the least I can do. You are, after all, me."

Knowing that Hunter could trust him, Hunter held out a hand for the Not-Hunter, who let go of his neck and pulled with one bloody hand. Leaning down, Hunter picked up the fallen blaster and offered it to the Not-Hunter, who took it. Stepping back, Hunter drew his combat knife and settled into a stance. Both waited until the unspoken count of three before lifted their respective weapons. The Not-Hunter had his blaster at nearly chest-level, when Hunter's attack ended. Flicking his wrist, Hunter brought the knife up and let go of it as he did so, letting its own momentum carry itself up . . . straight into the skull of the Not-Hunter. It left an inch-deep incision, nearly invisible to the naked eye. The Not-Hunter offered one last lopsided grin, before sinking down to his knees and falling backwards. Leaning down, Hunter used his index and middle finger to close the Not-Hunter's eyelids.

"Rest in peace."

A moment later, the snowy world around him dissolved into a dim room. Backing out, he exited and stood still for a moment. Hunter spit into his hand and noticed no blood. Nodding to himself, he wiped the saliva on his pant's leg and walked over to where Tuk'ata was seated before the monitors, watching the few fights that were still ongoing. Hunter sighed and leaned against the wall, sliding down onto the ground after a few moments. Closing his eyes, he forced down a sudden wave of nausea.

Ain't nothing gonna give you nightmares like murdering yourself.
NLO/CWO Hunter Morrell/W:1 "Javelin"/Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE
(=A=)(=SA=)(=ME=)(=*MAE*=) [CBV.][NS-1][SWC][BRC][VC:B][SoL][NSR]

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Amacuse
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Amacuse
 
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  RE: Tuk'ata: Up Close & Personal
June 26, 2010 9:19:48 AM    View the profile of Amacuse 
OOC:
I'm not happy with the way this turned out for Cayden, but it had to be done... and no, Drac... he isn't mad at you... he's mad with the simulation computer.


Cayden stood up and looked over to Stewart, who, from what he understood about Mon Cal physiology, attempted a smile.  Startled, Cayden returned the smile and proceeded into the simulator.  His boots hit granite, and instantly he knew where he was.  How in the hell do I get this planet twice? he asked himself as his surroundings began to materialize.  He noticed that he was on the Sky Ramp, near the last outpost before reaching the Palace.  Heh… talk about bizarre.  He looked around for a sign of his opponent, but only saw the emptiness of the Ramp.  For one, this should NEVER be empty… against protocol.  Secondly, where the hell is my opponent?  Cayden began walking around when he heard a war-cry come from behind.  He barely had enough time to jump to the side as a vibroblade crashed down where he was standing.  He looked at the wielder of the blade and swore.

“So Cayden,” his opponent said.  “Welcome home.”

Cayden stood up and drew his vibroblade.  “Cam… this has got to be a mistake.  Aren’t I supposed to be fighting another pilot?”

Cameron shook his head.  “The computer first makes you fight yourself.  In your case, someone programmed it to take the very thing you care about most and make you fight it.  If you strike me down, don’t expect it to be over… just walk to the top of the Sky Ramp and see what lies in wait for you.”

He noticed that Cameron was dressed in the Royal Army uniform, and was holding a large combat knife in his off-hand.  “Cam… are you implying that I’m fighting more than one opponent?”

“I’ve said too much already.  Prepare to die, Cayden!” he yelled as he charged Cayden.

Cayden fell into a defensive stance as he blocked Cameron’s hard blow, the air ringing from the clash of their blades.  He kicked Cameron back and began circling him, looking for a weakness.

“Oh, and just so you know, I’m not set at your skill level.  The Onderonian Army has similar simulators, so it downloaded my skill level and your next opponent’s into the training database,” Cameron said, circling Cayden.

“Fine… assuming that Drac didn’t set this up on me… the VE Navy decided to test my will to survive.  And I will not fail,” he said, falling back into his defensive stance as Cameron charged again.  Just so long as I don’t have to fight Ashley, I’m good…

Cayden felt the cold sting of rain as the sky began to rapidly darken.  Completely drenched, the two Onderonians kept fighting, neither landing a single blow on the other.  Just as they were about to clash for like the hundredth time, lightening came down and crashed right in front of them, sending the two combatants backwards.  Cayden crashed into the far wall, and quickly got up as he saw Cameron charging again.  He doesn’t quit… he must have a weakness of some sorts… but where? he desperately thought has he deflected another one of Cameron’s blows.  Cayden leaped several feet away and noticed that Cameron has unsure footing.  He keeps shifting his weight… he relies on brute strength more than agility and finesse… interesting he thought as he charged Cameron.  The Onderonian soldier was expecting a hard down-swing, but instead was tripped and fell as Cayden slid across the ground and kicked his feet out from beneath him.

Cameron hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of him.  Cayden stood up and walked over to help Cameron up.  He refused Cayden’s helpful gesture, and helped himself up.  He put his hands on his knees as he tried to get his breath back.  “Not bad… Cayden…” he said, breathing hard.  “Too bad… you didn’t finish… me off… when you had the chance!”  Cameron raised his blade and charged again, but this time it ended differently.

Cayden crouched down quickly and held his blade pointed at Cameron, skewering him.  “Yeah… too bad…” he said as he let Cameron down gently, removing his blade from the chest of his fallen brother.  “Rest easy now… the war is over…” he said as he began climbing the Ramp.

Cayden reached the top of the Ramp and saw the castle gates standing wide open in front of him.  That shouldn’t be open… either this is a really bad simulation, or the war really is over… he thought as he walked forward.  He quickly turned around as he heard an energy field rise behind him, preventing his escape.

He turned around to see his second opponent approach, this one female.  He saw two pistols in her hands as he began to recognize the outline of an Onderonian pilot’s uniform.  You have got to be kidding me… he thought as the person materialized into his sister, Angie.

“Hello Cayden… welcome home,” she said, smiling.  “I assume you already took care of our rebellious brother?”

“Yes… I did… rebellious?” he asked, confused.

“Cameron sold us out, Cayden.  He let Imperialists through the front lines.  He allowed us to lose the war!” Angie said, taking a step forward.

“Cayden, don’t believe her!” he heard another female say as she ran out of the Palace.

“Ashley?  What the hell is going on?” he asked, seriously confused.

“Cayden, don’t listen to her!  She’s been plotting the downfall of our family for years!” Angie said.

“Cayden, you’ve known me your whole life!  I would never-“ she started.

Cayden interrupted Ashley.  “Enough!  I was just attacked by my own brother, something that shouldn’t have ever happened.  Hell, I killed my own brother.  I don’t believe either of you two… Ashley would never betray our family, and Angie would never accuse her own brother of treason.  Which means one option: you both are traitors.”

“Cayden, she’s the traitor, not me!” Angie cried, pointing at Ashley.

“Cayden, she spends more time in the air than at home!  She is clearly conspiring with the enemy!” Ashley said, pointing at Angie.

“Cayden, I’m your sister… don’t you believe me?” Angie said, noticing a cryptic look from Cayden.

“I don’t know who to believe…” he said, defeated.

Ashley walked over and put a hand on his shoulder.  “If I was the traitor, would I do this?” she asked, kissing him.

He smiled and said “No, I guess not.”

Angie raised her blasters at Ashley and said “I can’t believe this!  Even over your own sister!?!”

“Angie… I’m sorry…” Cayden said.

“So am I, Cayden… so am I…” she said, firing at Ashley.

Cayden pushed her out of the way as the shots whizzed past their heads.  He stood up and fell into an offensive stance.  Angie fired again, and Cayden rolled to the right, the bolts impacting the ground.  He stood up and tackled her, both of them crashing into the ground.  He quickly kicked her blasters from her hands and stood her up.

“Angie… draw your knife,” he said, lowering his blade to a combat ready stance.

Angie slowly drew her knife, fear in her eyes.

“This is for Onderon…” he said as he swung down hard on her, his blade cutting through plastoid armor, flesh, muscle, and bone.  She fell to the ground, and he removed her blade from her chest.

He stood there, waiting for the simulation to end, and then realized that he had one more opponent to fight.  No… you have to be joking… I can’t fight her… he thought, walking into the Palace.  He started looking around and noticed that one detail was left out: the seal of the Royal Family.  He walked around and noticed that his uniform had changed when he entered the building.  He was wearing his Tuk’ata flight suit.  This is not what I was wearing before… he thought as he began heading out of the Palace.

Ashley was standing in the courtyard, the rain coming down harder than before.  Cayden walked out of the Palace, vibroblade in hand.

"I'm sorry Ashley... but I can't allow you through this door..." the man said, taking the flight helmet off.

"Cayden... We have to... your mom is going to die unless we help her!" she exclaimed, running up to him.

"I am sorry Ashley... but I have my orders..." he said, looking into her eyes, not smiling once.  His hand tightened around his blade hilt.

"Cayden..." she said, tears welling up in her eyes.

Cayden charged her, blade held firmly in his two gloved hands.  Ashley drew her blade quickly and parried his slash.  He began raining blows down on her relentlessly, each one blocked by her.  He dropped to the ground and kicked her feet out from beneath her, sending her falling to the ground.  She fell down hard, the wind leaving her lungs.  He stood up and held his blade by her neck.  “Are you my last opponent?” he asked, a note of pain in his voice.

“Yes…” she said, tears streaming down her face.

He flipped his blade over in his hand and stabbed her in the chest, ending the simulation.  His surroundings reverted to their normal state as he began walking out of the room.

He looked over and saw Stewart looking at him, and he attempted a smile.  He obviously failed miserably, and instead of heading to the briefing room, he went to the refresher and flushes his face with cold water.  He hung his head over the bowl, trying not to punch the mirror in front of him.  “Well… there’s no way in hell it can get any worse for me… I just killed simulations of my brother, sister, and girl friend…” he said, trying to recompose himself.  He stood up straight and smoothed out his uniform, attempting another smile.  There… I should be able to hold out the rest of the day… he thought as he walked out of the refresher and into the briefing room.

OOC:
WC: 1643
kind of short for 3 opponents, but hey... Angie, with her blasters, was easy... and Cayden let go of his anger against Ashley, so that ended quick.  The only apparent challenge to his skill was Cameron.  Otherwise, all three were equally difficult for him.  And this will affect his later fights heavily.
Chief Petty Officer Cayden "Amacuse" Tavers

FM/CPO Amacuse/Γ-2/S:26 Tuk'ata/W:58 Javelin/VSD Dead Gun/TF:R/2FL/SFC/VEN/VE (=AE=) (=*SAE*=) [IG]

FL/CPO Amacuse/B-1/S:137 Raptor/W:46/ PLF Saratoga/TF:TH/3FL/SFC/VEN/VE (=AE=) (=*SAE*=) [IG]
Stewart-Power
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Stewart-Power
 
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  RE: Tuk'ata: Up Close & Personal
June 26, 2010 11:05:53 PM    View the profile of Stewart-Power 
===== CPO "Thel" Stewart-Power =====

Stewart-Power sniffed the simulated air, it was dry. Accompanyinbg the dry smell was the smell of duracrete. A visual confirmation agreed. He was standing on the edge of what appeared to be an indoor martial artist dojo. A red painted ring ran the circumference of the room. Standing at the other end of the room was Amacuse. Which confused Th-el until he spotted the blade sticking out of his chest. A vicious kick from behind revealed Senior Crewman LorrantJacobs as the wielder of the blade.

"Well that was unnecessary." Thel muttered to himself, nodding his head imperceptibly.

The crewman then taunted, "And you are next, amphibian..." spitting out the last word.

"Let's just see about that shall we, hmm?" Thel responded calmly.

The blade that the Crewman held was a ceremonial blade, refined steel shaped into a blade just as deadly a a vibro-blade, if less durable. Even still, it was more deadly then Thel's hunting knife, which he slowly, but crisply, drew from it's holster on his right calve. Holding the knife up-side down in his right hand, he took a five steps forward before stopping, and motioning the Crewman forward with his left.

With his five, relatively large, steps, he had closed about a quarter of the distance between him and the smirking crewman. The crewman now took the chance to confidently march towards the center. With about seven feet between them, Thel took a step forward quickly, hoping to catch the still smirking crewman off-guard. Thel followed this up with another feint, and another, until he was doing a quaint dance of feinting leading in a slow circle around the crewman. The smirk on the crewman's face grew into a full-blown smile as the confidence visibly rose on his face.

Without warning, Thel began a strike downward, but instead of following through, he released the knife. The large, ungainly, serrated knife in no way looked good as it awkwardly sliced through the air. At any reasonable distance the knife wouldn't be reasonable threat. But since the knife was launched only two feet away, it was inside of the crewman's defensive perimeter. Very suddenly, Lorrant found himself starting the fight with a knife embedded in his arm and a quickly draining confidence. Thel watched the relatively young Crewman's arm go limp, and his sword clatter to the ground. Fear flashed across the face of the crewman as he looked pleadingly at the impassive face of the Mon Calamari pilot not three feet away.

The young crewman fell to floor after a solid kick from the imposing Mon Cal now above him. Thel watched the crewman scurry backwards across the floor, leaving a trail of blood on the ground. Thel walked forward slowly, pausing only to pick up the sword from its resting place at the beginning of the trail of blood. The cowering form of the crewman shivered and babbled as he made his way awkwardly across the ground. The Mon Cal walked up to the human reduced to a pitiful state, sword raised.

"No, no, no, no, please no... oh, no, no, no..." The pleading of the crewman momentarily rose high enough to be clearly audible, only to all but stop as the towering Flight Leader raised the sword, blade facing down. Thel brought the blade down upon the crewman, eliciting a final gasp of pain, and then an oddly prolonged gurgling from the now still shape laying on the ground. Realizing that he was more unfamiliar with the human anatomy then he thought. Thel, still holding the sword, drew it out of the chest, and redirecting it to the shapes neck. With a quick swing, Thel lopped off the crewman's head.

===== Simulation Room =====

Exiting the sim, Thel walked over to where the viewing screen, almost sub-consciously wiping his knife off on his uniform. He went to where the view-screen for his sim was, and was surprised to find Lorrant Jacobs and a mechanic watching it. Lorrant saw Thel as he approached, and didn't change his gape-mouthed expression. Thel simply delivered the astonished crewman a Mon Calamari wink, and continued walking towards the Simulation room's lounge.

OOC:
694 Words. I usually aim to get over 700 words in a post, and I promise not to aim to have Amacuse killed in actual missions... as much...
FL/CPO "Thel" Stewart-Power/Γ-1/S:26 Tuk'ata/W:58 Javelin/VSD Dead Gun/TF:R/2FL/SFC/VEN/VE
(=A=)[MC2][MC1][SoL]
[...] <= Banner of Ellipses...
Self proclaimed "Navy Ground-Pounder"

http://www.vastempire.com/wiki/index.php?title=Stewart-Power
"Shiny! Let's be bad guys!" -Jayne (Firefly/Serenity)

Clearly Canadian!
[This message has been edited by Stewart-Power (edited June 26, 2010 11:11:30 PM)]
Amacuse
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Amacuse
 
[VE-NAVY] Senior Chief Petty Officer
 
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  RE: Tuk'ata: Up Close & Personal
July 2, 2010 1:26:51 PM    View the profile of Amacuse 
OOC:
It has come to my attention that Stewart might get me killed... which either means he's going to do it himself, or it means we're going to be doing some insane things... either way, allons-y!!!


Cayden looked around and saw Stewart as he walked over to the lounge area.  He noticed that Stewart was walking towards him, and he cursed under his breath.  Damn... now I'm going to have to talk... he thought as he stood and saluted Stewart.  "Stewart, I noticed you had quite a good round," he said as he started to relax a bit.  Just don't mention...

"Yeah, it was... say, you feeling alright?  I mean, I saw you go straight to the refresher after your round.  I just want to make sure you're alright," the Mon Cal asked, a look that Cayden assumed to be concern washing over his face.

Cayden nodded and replied "I'm fine, sir."

Stewart studdied Cayden long and hard before he spoke.  "Cayden... are you sure?  I know it was a simulation, but that was the three closest people in your life... including Ashley... you sure you don't want to sit the rest out?" Stewart asked, resting a hand on Cayden's shoulder.

He looked at the hand, then at Stewart and shrugged the hand off.  "I'm alright Stewart... I won't let my emotions get in the way.  Besides, it's only a simulation... there's no chance in hell that I'll ever have to do that in real life," Cayden said, confidently.

Stewart smiled in that oh-so special Mon Cal way and said "Alright, Cayden... I'll allow for you to continue.  But, if you need to sit a few out, just let me know."

Cayden smiled, then saluted.  "Thank you, sir."

He walked over to the simulator and exhaled a large breath of carbon dioxide.  Well... let's see who I have to fight THIS time... he thought as he opened the simulator hatch and walked in.

Cayden felt a cold wind rip past him, and instantly he knew he was on Rhen Var.  Cayden smiled when he realized this.  So Im fighting Stewart... this should be fun... I just hope it doesn't end the same way his did against me... he thought as he started walking around, his hand resting on the hilt of his vibroblade.

He started climbing out of a large depression and onto a snow bank when something large tackled him back into the depression, knocking his blade from his hand.  Cayden shoved his assailant off of him and assessed the situation.  Okay... I just got attacked by someone, or something... I'm assuming Stewart, so... he thought moments before he yelled "Blast!"

The Stewart-clone tackled him down again and dug into Cayden's skin with his claws, blood pouring out into the snow.

Cayden tried to puch Stewart back off of him, but was restrained by the much stronger sentient.  He started to dig into the snow with his back, and managed to slip out from underneath the Mon Cal.  He crawled away from his Flight Lead and gave the disturbingly mad Mon Cal a swift kick in the gut, knocking the wind out of him.  Cayden rolled to the left and grabbed his vibroblade and was lucky enough to bring it up fast enough to deflect the downswing of one of Stewart's knives.

Damn him and his knives... I bet he's a total pro with them too...[i] he thought as he kicked Stewart back yet again, but this time managed to stand up.  He dropped into his combat-ready position and charged Stewart, catching the crazed Mon Cal off-guard, his blade piercing his opponent's right arm.

Stewart yelled, then swatted Cyaden away with his left arm, knocking the human into the snow bank.  The computer-generated Mon Cal tore the blade from his arm, blood spewing everywhere.

Cayden managed to get back up as Stewart knocked him back down and stabbed him in the chest with one of his knives.

"Damn you Stewart... damn you..." Cayden muttered as he died.  The simulation ended, and Cayden saw that he was back in the grey room.  "Damnit... that hurt like hell..." he said as he got up and walked out of the simulator.  He saw Stewart standing in front of the view-screen, watching his fight.

Cayden walked over and asked "So... you like it?"

Stewart looked over at the young human and replied "It was a good fight... I never expected you to get a hit on him... you surprised even me, Cayden.  Good job."

Cayden stood there, watching as the Mon Cal plunged his blade into his chest, then sighed.  [i]I'm going to fight another one of my fellow pilots... and I really don't want to...


OOC:
WC: 747
Stewart is a meanie... he killed me twice... well, technically 3 times if you count Lorrant Jacobs... XD jk.

Can't wait to see what happens next! 
Chief Petty Officer Cayden "Amacuse" Tavers

FM/SCPO Amacuse/Γ-2/S:26 Tuk'ata/W:58 Javelin/VSD Dead Gun/TF:R/2FL/SFC/VEN/VE (=AE=) (=*SAE*=) [IG]

FL/SCPO Amacuse/B-1/S:137 Raptor/W:46/ PLF Saratoga/TF:TH/3FL/SFC/VEN/VE (=AE=) (=*SAE*=) [IG]
byorninn
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  RE: Tuk'ata: Up Close & Personal
July 2, 2010 7:32:22 PM    View the profile of byorninn 
**Simulation Room**

Byorninn walked into the empty room. He looked around and noticed a bunch of closed simulator pods. From what he gathered from the message he recieved, he was to face as many foes as he could in single melee combat. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a table full of melee weapons including his favorites, a vibro-staff and ryyk blades. He walked over to the table and started to arm himself. on the belt of his kilt, he hung two ryyk blades. he then proceeded to pick up the staff weapon. Byorninn walked over to an empty pod and stepped inside. The door shut with a whoosh.

**Simulator Pod**

There he stood in the pitch black. then in a blink of an eye, the pod came to life. It was midday, the wind was blowing lightly and he could smell the familiar smells of Kashyyk's treetops. Though the platforms were empty, Byorninn could tell he was not alone. Byorninn walked around the treetops looking for the one who he had come to challenge, but when they finnaly met, Byorninn was caught off guard. He stood face to face with a man he knew all to well. He was looking at Byorninn. This byorninn had on the same clothes as the original: A green and purple tartan kilt he mad a few years after his mother had passed and a white long baggy sleeved shirt. he had the same weapons as well.

OOC:
just to make things not confusing the simulated Byrorninn will no be called anti-byorninn


Anti-Byorninn dropped to a fighting stance. Byorninn followed suit. Byorninn swung his staff in a butter fly motion around his body, using it as a defensive shield. Anti-Byorninn probed the lengths of its defensive abilities witha multitude of attacks, starting with an over head swing.followed by an arcing swing to Byorninns right side. each of the attacks were harmlessly thrown aside. Byorninn stopped and tried to sweep Anti-Byorninns feet out from under him. Anit- Byorninn jumped and came down with a down ward smash to the top of Byorninns head. Byorninn didn't have a chance to block and it connected solidly causing Byorninn to drop his weapon and stumble back. When he regained his footing he looked up expecting another blow to follow the first but nothing came. Anti-Byorninn was no longer there.

"Come out and face me you dirty son of a kath hound!" Byorninn yelled into the trees. He chuckled to himself. This whole scenario reminded him of something his father had told him: "you must first conquer yourself, before you can begin to fathom your enemies."

Byorninn drew his ryyk blades. The few wookies he could call friends, taught him how to use them with deadly efficiency. "And the hunt begins." he said out loud as he started to walk the pathways again.

It wasnt long before Anti-Byorninn once again showed himself. Byorninn didn't waste anytime. he rushed in, with the full fury of his blades, Stabbing down, slashing across, swinging up, kicking, ducking, weaving, and bobbing. back and forth he came, and every swing he swung, Anti-Byorninn blocked but had no time to counter. he had to back peddle to stay enough away to avoid being wounded. Byorninn Feinted with a left hook, and was pleased to see Anti-Byorninn fall for the ploy. As Anti-Byorninn moved to block the swing to his face, Byorninn dropped to a knee and sliced the inside thigh of his enemy. Anti Byorninn fell to one knee as Byorninn sliced the other leg. He stood up and faced his enemy.

"It was an honor to have faced you." He said, as he stabbed the ryyk blades into Anti Byorninn's neck on both sides of his head. The blades were angled at his heart. He pulled out his blades and wiped them on his kilt before kicking the body over. As it thudded on the wooden planks, The pod went dark. Breathing hard, and trying to forget about his splitting head ache, Byorninn opened the door and walked out.

**Simulation Room**

He saw a Mon Calimari Watching his view screen. The man turned and looked Byorninn over before saying "good fight Crewmember Byorninn. I'm Warrant Officer Drac. When your ready head back in for another round." He told Byorninn.

"Thank you sir." Byorninn replied before stepping away.


OOC:
725 words. not bad for a first post
pain is like jello, there is always room for more.
TRN/CRW Byorninn/B-3/S:137  "Raptor"/W:1 "Javelin"/mSSD Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE
Rocketman1167
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  RE: Tuk'ata: Up Close & Personal
July 3, 2010 1:07:14 AM    View the profile of Rocketman1167 
Rocket received the message to meet in the simulation room and started to head there, when he got there he noticed that most of the squadron was already in the simulator, so he picks an empty one and goes inside.

---Training Simulation---

The first thing Rocket noticed was the fact that he is in a tall city and that it extended all the way to the sky the next thing he notice was a dinner that looked almost familiar until he read the name of it which said Ted’s Good Food on it.

Great I am back on Coruscant just the place that I didn’t want to see again until we took it back from the New Republic. Well at least they put me in an area that I know very well even though I have not been back here since I went into the Academy. Know this make me think about what else I am going to face I do know that I can only use melee weapons so I guess that my force pike will have to work for now. Now to find my enemy or I should say Empty-Rocket, because he probably has no thought process.

Rocket goes towards the dinner once he reaches he pulls the door open to expect to find one of his old friends inside instead he finds his brother inside of it and just stares at him in disbelief since he hasn’t seen his brother for ten years, because his brother was under a different fleet than his father was.

“Duo is that really you”
“Yes it is, you must really have gotten far to be here today.”
“But the records said that you where missing in action, how are you here with me now?”
“You are forgetting that you are in a simulation room right know Hale or did you forget that simple fact anyway you are going to fight me to the death so that we can finally see who is the better son for our father.”
“I can’t fight you brother I can’t after all these years that I thought you were dead.”
“Well tough you are going to have to fight me if you want to advance in this simulation now on guard brother.”

Duo pulls a vibroblade from his belt and runs towards Rocket getting ready to throw a blow at his chest, Rocket pulls his force pike out and blocks the shot and throws one of his own aimed at his brother’s chest, which is blocked and is countered by a shot to the head which Rocket ducks to avoid and stabs towards his brother’s hand to try to disarm him. Duo blocks the blow and counters with a slash to the arm, which is blocked by Rocket which in turn throws a slash at Duo’s shoulder which connects with arm that he threw up to block it cutting his arm off to the elbow. Duo jumps back in pain blood dripping from the new stump that used to be his left arm, Duo switches stance into a defensive stance.

“Very good brother you have gotten better with a spear since our last fight I am very happy that you where able to get though my defense.”
“We still do not have to fight brother let us just talk.”
“No brother the time for talking is done, it is now the time for fighting.”

Duo rushes towards his brother with his blade above his head and prepares for a downward slash. Rocket thrusts his force pike towards his brother chest and hopes that his brother will not notice it and run into it. Duo continues rushing towards his brother and runs right into the pike and stops and starts to fall backward towards the ground Rocket lets go of his pike and lets his brother fall.

“Very good brother you have done well I am pleased and you have passed this test.” With that Duo Firekeeper takes his last breath and lays still. Rocket walks over and closes his brother’s eyes and watches as he disappears, and the room goes black. Rocket walks over to grab his force pike and walks outside of the simulator.

---Outside of the Simulator---

Rocket notices that most of the squadron is still fighting there copies but that Stewart-Power  is standing in front of his screen and was apparently watching his fight with his brother.

Great not that I had to kill my brother but someone was watching the whole time, well this is going to be interesting.

“Sir” throws up a salute
“Relax I was watching your fight it must have been hard for you to kill your brother after just seeing him.”
“It was necessary for the mission Sir.”
“I see, so are you able to go further into the training.”
“Yes I am, but first I need to get another weapon for the next battle.”

OOC:
817 Words that is a good start, if I need to change anything let me know.
There are many aspects of the Force we have no knowledge of. The subject still requires further research and study.

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Roth
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Roth
 
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  RE: Tuk'ata: Up Close & Personal
July 14, 2010 4:03:48 PM    View the profile of Roth 
The sound of footsteps on the hard metallic floor echoed through the hallway as people hustled and bustled on their way to whichever assignment await them. Roth too was one of these, and that made him grimace.

He looked at his comm and cursed, “Frak. Not only am I  late, but I was also forced off at the wrong station.”

Stronger words filled his head as he checked his comm again. He’d missed the briefing by now, and will be singled out for sure for tardiness. Roth turned down another hall and stopped in front of a door which had the title “Simulations Facility“. He paused to make sure his uniform was spic and span. Which it was, except for one thing, his old Nazgul badge was sewed on right above his new Tuk’ata one. Roth’s grim frown turned a little less dour as he palmed open the door. He prepared to snap to attention,  but found it empty, as everyone was in their sim.

A cheerful tech waved to him, and with another heartfelt grumble, walked briskly over to him.

Roth sighed, he hated the techs, didn’t trust em as far as a child could throw em. He gruffly inquired, “Whaddya got for me?”

The techie, who seemed to only smile harder… if that was possible, “Melee sim, one on one, you versus you first round, take as many rounds as you want, though after the first one it could be any squad mate, including your commanding officers.”

After thinking about it for a while Roth asked, “I see a table of weapons over there, can I bring my own?”

Before the techie could say anything, Roth pulled his M32 combat knife out of his pocket and made sure it was securely fastened to his hip for easy access, then quickly stepped over to the nearest station and entered it. It wasn’t the TIE Interceptor sim he’d been in his earlier Navy days.

This one was just a small bare space, but it quickly transformed into a junky side alley in his home planet, Corellia. Roth nodded, he had expected this when he faced his duplicate. There was the usual detritus, over filled trash receptacles and the stench of vomit and alcohol. Roth looked around, and spotted the cantina’s rear entrance. He tried the door but found it locked.

“Oh sith spit, a Corellian Ale woulda been nice, despite the fact that this is a sim.”

“Tch, yer telling me,” Roth’s voice said, yet it wasn’t him.

That same moment a fist came flying toward his face, and it would have landed, except for the fact Roth caught it in the left peripheral of his eye. Roth leaned backwards, and watched the fist sail past his face for a split second before grabbing the arm with both hands and brought it down at the same time his knee came up, smashing through the elbow of the right arm of his doppelganger.

The imitator pulled his arm away from Roth before he could do any more damage. He sneered, “You’ve gotten better since your Nazgul days.” He spit on the ground, “You and that squadron where pathetic you know.”

Roth’s face grew red, and charged the fake, throwing a hasty, but powerfull hay maker at the sim Roth, who just laughed. The fake’s left hand met Roth’s fist, and held it firm. “Tch, weak idiot. You always fall for the same shit. When are you gunna learn?”

A sidekick to the ribs sent Roth onto his back, and as attempted to stand, was met with another kick to the face. This flipped Roth over, face down onto the dusty, dirty pavement. He wiped his face, blood streaming down, he now had a broken nose, again, and several lacerations. He let out a grunt as the clones foot found Roth’s rib cage, and this time, the clone smirked as he heard the sound of a rib cracking. He stood up slowly, this time the clone let him. By the time he gained his feet, he heard a roar, and turned just in time to be tackled by the doppelganger. Pain shot through his chest as he fell to the ground clone on top of him, and fresh blood splattered his uniform. Roth gave a pained smile, as the clone fell to the ground nest to him, Roth’s combat knife sticking through his rib cage and into the sim’s heart.

Roth laughed, then winced as the pain hit him. “Idiot, in your rush to attack me you forgot to watch what I was doing. I managed to pull that little beauty just when you hit me, your own attack’s force pushed it in.”

He spat on the dead clone, then leaned against the cantina wall, watching his world fade to white. He groaned as he bent down to pick up his now clean combat knife, and put it away. He slowly made his way to some nearby seats in front of a bank of monitors, and sat down, the pain from the sim throbbing in his chest.

“Frack, this hurts, lucky I don’t really have a broken rib…” he mumbled to no one in particular.

He looked up at the monitors and watched as he quickly brought the knife to bear as he was tackled, and grimaced a splash of blood was all that could be seen when his and the clone’s body hit pavement.

OOC:
WC 903
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"Once a Nazzie, always a Nazzie."
]
FM/PO2 Roth Leber/A-4/S:26 Tuk'ata/W:1 Javelin/mSSD Atrus/TF:a/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE/(=A=)

Wiki Bio: http://www.vastempire.com/wiki/index.php?title=Roth_Leber
[This message has been edited by Roth (edited July 14, 2010 4:06:05 PM)]
Rocketman1167
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Rocketman1167
 
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  RE: Tuk'ata: Up Close & Personal
July 22, 2010 9:40:33 AM    View the profile of Rocketman1167 
OOC:
Okay my copy with be called Hale, just so you all know.


Rocket went to the table and grabbed a vibroaxe from the table and went back into the simulator. Once Rocket could see again he noticed that he was on Abrae next to the cantina that they had their last meeting that Rocket could not remember much because of the state of mind that he was in. Rocket went to the door of the cantina and tried to open it and noticed that it was not locked and went inside; once he went inside he noticed that it looked the same as when he was last in it.

Well this is a surprise I thought it would put me back on Coruscant, well this means that hopefully my enemy will be someone from the squadron and not another one of my family. Speaking of which I wonder who that will be.

The first thing Rocket notices is that there is one person sitting at the counter, or what looks like a person.

“So I take it that you are my enemy.”
“I am and it will surprise you who I am.”

The person sitting at the bar stood up and turned around and Rocket noticed that it was him, and Rocket was indeed surprised of who it was.

“So Hale if I may call you that how do you want to do this, we could fight in here but I think that it would be a better idea to fight in the street.”
“Yeah Rocket I think that is a good idea, so I will be using a force pike and you will be using what?”
“I will be using a vibroaxe.”
“I see so than shall we begin.”

Rocket and Hale walked out of the cantina and faced each other did an about face and walked ten paces away from each. The first thing Rocket did after he turned around was pull out his vibroaxe, and noticed that Hale also pulled out his force pike.

“It’s a pity that I haven’t been able to find a spear decent enough to carry and use that being my best weapon that I am good with, but I guess that this vibroaxe will have to do won’t it Hale.”
“It will indeed have to work for this battle; I must warn you that as your copy I know every move that you know.”
“You are correct there, but there is one thing that you will never be able to copy is my ability to foresee your moves because you fight exactly like me.”
“Enough talk this battle must begin now.”

With that Hale rushes towards Rocket, but once he gets within striking range he stops and goes into a defensive position.

Not bad for my copy he knew that I would not close the distance between us so he did it, but he also did not throw the first blow. Interesting I am gonna have to break my number rule and that will prove to be his down fall.

Rocket strikes Hale at the torso trying to get the first blow in, but is blocked and Hale throws a blow to Rocket’s right leg. Rocket shifts his weight so that the blow misses. Then he throws a blow to Hale’s right arm hopping to cut it clean off, but is disappointed when he blocks it and grabs Rocket vibroaxe and tries to rip it out of his hands and succeeds in taking it and throws it behind him so that Rocket doesn’t have any weapons left.

“You’re pretty good for a copy, but last I checked this is a melee combat simulator so that means that hand combat can be used, so why don’t we find out who is the better fighter with their fists.”
“Fine I will follow your example and fight with my fists.”

Hale takes his force pike and stabs it into the ground and throws a fist a Rocket stomach, and finds that it lands, but that it also leaves him open. Rocket steps forward some more into Hale’s first forcing him to leave it there and throws four shots to Hale’s head and finds that he is to stunned that Rocket would take a hit to gain advantage over his enemy, so the hits to Hale’s head connect and he falls to the ground. Rocket goes on top of Hale’s back and starts to choke him out, while trying to get the force pike out of the ground.

“The first thing you did wrong was fight me without weapons you should now that I fight best with my hands’ because that what I have used since I was a kid I did not get a weapon till I turned fifteen and I only got that because my brother bought it for me because he said that I won’t always get the chance to fight with my fists, now die you worthless copy.”

As Hale losses conciseness Rocket grabs the force pike and sticks it through his back into his heart therefore ending the battle as Rocket knew that he would win, when the room goes dark Rocket thinks to himself.

That was a lot easier than I thought it was going to be, but next time I face myself I must remember that he will learn from this battle and be better.

Rocket picks up the vibroaxe and exits the simulator, once Rocket is out of the simulator he puts the vibroaxe back on the table and looks around to see if any once else from the squadron is done with their battle yet.

OOC:
926 Words, Had the time thought I would put a post up on here. If I need to change anything pm me.
There are many aspects of the Force we have no knowledge of. The subject still requires further research and study.

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