Today was the day. After almost a week of training, the gathered troopers were waiting for Ronson to finish it. The training had been brutal and Skarr had gathered his fair share of bruises and cuts. And today was the final day of it all. Ronson had scheduled one more day of brutal beatings, and Skarr felt that is was more of a test today. It was hot outside of the barracks, Ronson had taken a landing pad as his field of play. The metal of the landing pad was hard and unyielding, Skarr knew that from personal experience. He had been taken down more that a few times.
The squad leader of Eclipse was lucky that he had not been injured more than he had already been. A lot of the other troopers had had limbs broken or had something strained. Skarr hoped it was more of his melee experience than his endurance. He had been in his fair share of brawls and battlefield throw downs, but that didn’t stop him from learning new things in this course. One of the main things Skarr had learned was to see certain things while he was fighting. During sparring sessions, Ronson would throw or place certain things on the landing pad. Most of them useless items that could be used as weapons.
Now Skarr knew how to look for and find those items. Even while getting punched and kicked around. He had seen troopers grab items off the ground without ever even looking in that direction. Skarr had used that skill a few times to take down his enemy. And sometimes, his enemy used the same skill. In fact, that had lead to another lesson that Ronson had impressed on the troopers. Disarming opponent was a key skill as well. Knives were deadly in a fight, and Ronson had taught them to take that factor out of the fight. A knife was dangerous even to the person using it.
And so, the troopers had that lesson drilled into them too. More than a few troopers had been nicked with the dull blades that Ronson used. He did not want any troopers dying unduly on the landing pad. But the knives still hurt. It was encouraged that the troopers disarm their opponents immediately. Sometimes that was as simple as wrenching it out of their hands. Ronson was not
teaching any actual martial art, his training approached the skills needed in a bar fight way of doing things. He had verbally and physically berated any student that tried to use some fancy martial art on the field. Ten times out of ten, he beat the trooper without resorting to any sort of martial art himself.
“Ladies and gentlemen, your final day of this course is simple. You will stand in the circle with me. You beat me, you pass. Losing results in failure.” Ronson explained. Skarr sighed deeply. Ronson was the toughest son of a bitch out on that landing pad. Beating him would take a miracle. Skarr did not feel like making a miracle. This meant something else then. Strategy, perhaps. Maybe Skarr could wait to face Ronson, wait until he had been tired out. But from what Skarr had seen, the man was tireless. He had taken on three troopers at once when they had gotten a little too arrogant. Granted, he had done it with a hydrospanner, but he still took them all on at once.
Ronson’s cold eyes surveyed the crowd before him, before he called out, “Jaxon! You’re first!” The trooper who was called first paled. He knew what was in store, a fully rested and trained instructor. He stepped out into the circle of the landing pad. Ronson stretched a little and waved his hand in a gesture that said, “Go ahead.” The trooper moved toward the instructor slowly. Skarr thought that was a mistake on the trooper’s part. It gave Ronson time to prepare. Now that Skarr gave some thought to it, he realized that anything was a mistake against the instructor. The man was prepared for anything.
The trooper lunged forward, his arm snapping out in a punch. Ronson easily ducked and brought his knee up to the trooper’s stomach. He doubled over clutching at his stomach as Ronson elbowed the back of his neck. Skarr watched as the trooper rolled away with the instructor following close behind. What he had not noticed at first, was that the trooper was heading towards a durasteel pipe. It seemed that Ronson was unaware of this too.
The durasteel pipe came up as the trooper rose. Only to be caught by Ronson. The sergeant ripped the pipe from the trooper’s hands and practically flogged the young trooper. He had no defense against the instructor and finally he surrendered. Ronson sent him off of the field and back to the barracks.
“Skarr, you’re next,” Ronson called. Skarr breathed in a little unsteadily. This meant that his strategy just died. He did not much like that idea. But even so, he began stepping forward into the circle of the landing pad. As he walked, Skarr began mapping out where the various weapons were on the field. He had a feeling that he’d need them. Ronson was smiling at Skarr when he looked back up. It seemed the older sergeant figured out what Skarr was doing.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Ronson called invitingly. Skarr only thought for a brief second before he ran at the instructor. The man stood his ground, which was what Skarr was counting on. Before Skarr reached the instructor, he went into a slide. Ronson had not expected the move, but he still jumped over Skarr’s outstretched legs. His boot came down, but Skarr was not there. The young squad leader had rolled to the side and was now on his feet.
Skarr broke out into a run and tackled Ronson onto the ground. The instructor easily cast the squad leader off of him. This was what Skarr wanted, he rolled onto the durasteel pipe that the instructor had dropped earlier. He stayed on the ground, waiting for the instructor. The man approached him cautiously, but soon another boot came down to stomp onto Skarr. Instead of letting the boot crush him, Skarr rolled to the side, bringing the pipe around into Ronson’s leg.
The instructor fell back from the force of the blow, as Skarr rolled back onto his feet. He walked over to where Ronson had fallen, pipe still in his hand. Instead of bringing the pipe down on the instructor, Skarr drove a boot into his side. This turned out to be a mistake, as the older man grabbed Skarr’s foot and wrenched him down. Now Ronson had rolled over, and was delivering punches to Skarr’s stomach.
It was then that Skarr noticed he still held the durasteel pipe. He brought it up against the instructor’s shoulder, knocking him off. But the sergeant recovered fast and he ripped the pipe from Skarr’s grasp. Norith threw a punch across Ronson’s face, but the man rolled with the punch and was soon throwing himself at Skarr. The young man hit the ground hard. He had time to see the troopers watching before he was dragged to his feet. Another fist contacted his stomach, and he doubled over. The next hit contacted his jaw and he flew back, seeing stars.
Ronson’s fist closed on Skarr’s shirt once more as he dragged him to his feet. This time however, Skarr was ready. He allowed Ronson to easily raise him before he grabbed the instructor’s arm and pulled, flipping the older man over. The younger man placed a knee on Ronson’s chest and punched him in the face once.
“Yield! Because I’m not giving up until I am broken!” Skarr gritted through his teeth. The instructor struggled against Skarr’s knee before he realized he had no leverage.
“Alright, dammit, let me up,” Ronson said. “You pass. Happy now?” Skarr nodded gratefully and helped the instructor to his feet. They shook hands and Skarr began leaving the field. He had no desire to watch the rest of the matches. He knew by now that the trainees would have enough trouble as it was to beat Ronson. But maybe a few of them had taken a few hints from Skarr. That would make Skarr smile at least.
