Prison. Well, a singular cell to be precise. It was not the first time the young Mandalorian had seen the inside of three blank walls, and bars. This, however, was not punishment for any crime he had committed: this was a training exercise. He had spent the last week vigorously training in close quarters martial combat. A week was not enough to master anything, of course, but should he pass this test, he would continue his training. If not, he would have to start all over again. The fortunate thing was that this was a space station, so all he had to do was find a hangar, and he could fly on out of there.
Gur glanced around his cell. There was nothing in there, but a rough blanket to sleep on, and a bucket for use as a toilet. All he had was his basic flightsuit and combat boots. The bars at the front of the cage were too small to squeeze through, and too thick to saw through, even if he had anything to use as a saw. Then there was the regular guards that walked past every few minutes. Grent waited half an hour, studying the pattern, before making his move.
“Hey! Nerfherder! I bet your mother’s so proud that not everyone is as fat as her!” he called out at the one guard, as he walked past with his friend. Another patrol was due in approximately five minutes. Grent had to work fast.
“Shut it, scum,” said the guard, dressed in a New Republic uniform, as he and his comrade stopped and returned to the jail door, where Grent had his faced pressed up against the bars.
“Aww, is that the end of your vocabulary? Didn’t your mother teach you any more words, or is she so stupid she doesn’t know any either.”
“I said shut it!” growled the man, who it was clear was getting irked with Grent’s insults.
“Make me,” said Grent, as he spat in the other man’s face and reached through to try and strike him.
That was the last straw. One guard grabbed Grent’s extended arm, and tried to hold him in place, as the other opened the jail door. Once inside, they bundled him against the wall, hurling insults. One man then, grabbed Grent’s arms and locked them behind his back, as the man whom he had been harassing began punching his chest. Grent let them have two hits, before he kicked off the floor, tucked his knees into his chest, then extended them again quickly, his boot clad feet colliding with the other man’s neck and chest. Gur watched him stumble backwards, clutching his throat, and hit his head on the metal bars, slumping to the floor unconscious. Using the momentum he had gained from the kick, Gur leant back into the man holding him, hearing the loud ‘pop’ as the guard’s shoulders dislocated from the over rotation. Grent landed on top of him, winding him badly. Gur then grabbed the comlink from the injured man, and smashed the one belonging to the other man. He then fitted it into his ear so that he could hear what was going on. By his estimation, he had a minute before the other patrol found out what had happened. That gave Gur a minute head start to try to find the hangar, which was his primary objective.
He crept along the corridor, until he came across an unsuspecting guard outside, what looked to be a small storage cupboard. The Mandalorian wrapped his muscular arms around the guard’s neck, until he went into unconsciousness. Grent pulled the sleeping man into the cupboard, and changed uniforms. That was when the alarm sounded. The comlink was suddenly filled with urgent voices:
“The prisoner has escaped … knocked out one guard, and badly wounded another … all men be on the watch.”
Gur cautiously made his way out of the cupboard, and looked all around before heading off in the direction of the way he was brought in. The guards had made the mistake of not covering his head, so the path from the hangar to the cell was easily found. Several guards rushed past, and, not to seem out of place, Gur jogged after them. After several corridors, Grent slipped off down the one leading to the hangar, where he was met by another couple of guards who were posted outside the door, stun batons at the ready.
“Sorry, mate, but no-one’s allowed past here,” they called to him.
“I’m just looking for the prisoner,” Grent replied, still moving forwards.
“Well he ain’t here, unless he can turn invisible. Now turn around and get lost … wait, I recognise you! You’re the pri-…”
A quick jab to the jugular silenced the man. The other guard looked on in amazement, as he suddenly realized who Gur was, and began to swing his stun stick. Grent dodged out of the way, and the blow landed on the temple of the guard Grent had already struck. Before the guard could attack again, Grent grabbed his arm: one hand on the elbow, and one hand below the shoulder joint. Grent then twisted it backwards, behind the guard’s back.
“Open the door,” Grent ordered through clenched teeth, as the other man cried out in pain.
“It’s unlocked!” cried the man.
Grent used the side of the hand that had been holding the shoulder to hit the other man on the temple: hard. This knocked him out cold. Gur then pushed open the door to the hangar, and slipped in, finding an empty hangar, save for three people and a couple of shuttles. The three VEN personnel turned from the monitors they were watching, and gave a small clap. The alarms stopped: the exercise was over.
- OOC:
- WC:966
AAR: Simulated training exercise. Grent goads the guards to beat him up, whereupon he beats them, and frees himself. He then knocks out another guard, hiding the body, and changes uniforms. Then he merges with another patrol until he finds the hangar, which is where his judging team are waiting for him. He is then confronted by two more guards, whom Gur quickly subdues.
