Members of Arcona were invited to participate in a training exercise intended to test the capabilities of the Lunar Training Facility’s Simulation Grid. Mune had made the arrangements. And so it was that the Shistavanen was already present when others from the clan began to arrive via the private landing pad. Arriving guests would be greeted by clean and immaculately maintained hallways. Each would be authenticated upon entry, ensuring only members of the Brotherhood entered. The droid at the reception desk barely paid them any mind otherwise.
Mune was there to greet them with a warm grin on their muzzle and ruby eyes alight with excitement. They hadn’t known who to expect when the invitation went out. They nodded politely and offered their greetings before turning tail and leading deeper into the building.
“We will place all weapons and armour in designated lockers when we arrive. The simulator will simulate those items for us,” Mune explained. “You will also put on a few pieces of tech; I am told these will help the simulator process the goings on and simulate pain when struck.” Mune described a haptic suit.
Turning a corner in the hall, the group entered the Training Center, where the Simulation Grid was homed. The Shistavanen indicated the observation area for anyone that came along who was not participating. Tranparisteel windows spread across the opposite side of the room. They motioned to the lockers for their equipment and the vending machines if anyone was feeling peckish before they got the test underway.
The large cubic grid occupied most of the training center’s floor space. A spectacular piece of technology capable of simulating any venue in the Brotherhood’s database in extraordinary detail.
“We will fight in two pairs,” Mune explained, already removing his weapons and placing them in a locker. Sliding off their jacket and then their sleeved lilac shirt, they lifted the hem of the bottom of their thicker pink shirt to show the edge of the haptic suit they already wore underneath. “The suits are in the lockers.”
“Greetings Arconans! Welcome to the Lunar Training Facility! You are in for a treat!” A simulated voice called, sounding almost excited. “You have the pleasure of hearing my delightful voice and try out my fancy toys! You may thank me now!”
“Ignore him… CD is the AI that runs all this… he can be a bit… much.” Mune smiled, “Okay, based on combat potential…”
“Based on combat potential! Teams are!” CD interrupted boisterously, “Ruke Tenbriss Ya-ir and Zuza Lottson! Versus! Mune Cinteroph and Karran Val’teo!”
“… why do they give these AIs voices?”
Karran quickly stripped off his leather robes to reveal his heavily tattooed and scarred body. All the while he stretched and rotated his shoulders and neck. He had lost track of how long it had been since he left his homestead. Several months, at least, had been spent restoring, building, and rebuilding what had become dilapidated during his extended vacation on Tatooine, and while the work had kept his body in shape, and sparring matches with his IG-100 droid had kept his skills mostly sharp, it had been a long time since he’d had the opportunity to spar with organics.
The haptic suit slid on with surprisingly little resistance given how tight it fit, leaving little to the imagination. He paused.
“Do… I need to put my armor back on over the suit? Even though I am covered, I still feel…exposed.”
“Yeah, its a bit of a hugger.”
Zuza had followed suit in.. suiting up. It was a surprisingly good fit, but she agreed with Karran. If it was skin coloured she’d look naked.
The Human had brought her normal combat gear with her, which was now placed in the locker as directed. It was interesting, the simulator thing. Technology wasn’t the Human’s strongest point, but she could already imagine Zig geeking out over this.
Mune chuckled softly, “You can wear some of your clothes or armour over the top, like I am doing.” They wore their base layer of armour over the haptic suit. “A little less revealing.”
“Oh sweet-” Zuza cut herself off tugging her shirt back on.
The Zabrak nodded appreciatively. As he put his pants, boots, and belt back on. He stopped there as he reminded himself that as skintight as the suit was, it did not reveal his burns, and that was enough.
He proceeded to store his weapons in a locker and was greeted by a new sense of nakedness. He never went without his lightsaber. Even when he was working around the homestead, it stayed in its holster on his belt. He breathed deeply. He was among friends and allies. He would have no need for it… even if they were about to fight each other. He dug into a pocket and removed a flask, unscrewed the lid, and smelled the brew inside. Heavy and herbal, a touch of lavender, and a delicate touch of sweetness from the honey he’d added himself. He took a deep drink before preempting the likely (if not inevitable) look from Ruka.
“Tea, my friend. My oath still holds true.”
From the side where he had been idling more quietly than the others, as he was wont to, Ruka’s amethyst eyes were already on the Zabrak. The lines around his tattooed, scarred eyes and brows softened slightly at the explanation, and he inclined his head to Karran, the barest of smiles touching his slash-broken lips.
“Good, ay.” He’d mostly just listened along to Mune’s explanation and rolled his eyes at the AI announcer, having been here before to test the systems for Tyris himself. He spoke up then as the others pulled their gear back on. “It feels a little off. Half real, half not. Even less than a smack with a training saber, when it looks like cutting through an arm. Just keep moving. Try not to think about it too much.”
Mune watched the Zabrak drink from the flask and grinned, rolling their eyes slightly before closing their locker. They padded towards the center of the grid. “Our weapons and armour will both be simulated in here. No real harm can be done unless you twist an ankle or physically grab hold of someone and do something you probably should not be doing… like breaking their arm. I like my arms not broken, thank you.”
“Engaging simulation, Arcona Citadel Courtyard,” CD chimed in, “Prepare to be awed by my awesomeness.”
The room shimmered and then rippled. The massive courtyard formed around the four Arconans. An elongated patch of trimmed grass in nearly fifty-meters, an ovular fountain in the shape of the Arcona emblem at its center. The walls with their vegetation clinging to their hard surface. The details were immaculate, perhaps even shocking to one who has yet to have experienced the simulator. A soft breeze brushed pass them, ruffling hair, fur, and clothes. The four Arconans were in their full armour, their weapons exactly where they would have expected, as if they had equipped themselves.
Mune brushed claws through breeze-tussled tail fur and smirked, “Good job CD.”
“Haptic suits have been engaged,” CD announced. “Testing connection.”
Mune doubled over with a grunt and coughed. “Hey!”
“Connection confirmed, all suits active.”
“Why did you…”
“For your rude comment, of course. I am incredible, show your appreciation.”
Muen grumbled and turned their gaze towards the others. He eyed Ruke for a moment. True the Mirialan had tested the simulator before, but the haptic suits had not been part of the test. They hesitated before clearing their throat, “The suits will… simulate pain without causing actual injury… it won’t be as… tingly as earlier tests. It is intended to make the sensory input more… accurate.” They watched Ruka’s expression, knowing he was the most likely to be displeased by this information.
Indeed, the Mirialan’s expression did tighten despite the frankly awe-inspiring recreation of their courtyard around them; his tree almost looked inviting to climb. But he was clearly in no so relaxed mood. His arms crossed, and his eyes narrowed like he had thoughts on the subject.
Ones he apparently intended to voice when he grunted, “Franging trying harder to stimulate pain now? For training?” The noise he made was disgusted. “We agreed to this, ay, but if the brotherhood ever starts fixing the students…”
“Different levels of capability obviously require different degrees of risk.” The Zabrak shook his head. As much as he loved and respected Ruka, there were times that he worried that the Mirialan’s voice of reason would easily become a voice of fear.
Mune watched Ruka, “Sometimes, there are necessary risks… ones that better prepare us for what lays ahead…”
The Shistavanen shifted their weight, their eyes studious of their friend. “This is a tool to prepare, not harm, to educate, without the scars.” Hopefully without the scar, they thought. “CD will cut off the simulation if things go too far. I have worked very hard to become a solid healer, too, so, none of us should be in danger even if something does go wrong.”
“Affirmative, if you want to totally run away with your tails between your legs,” CD retorted.
“Ignore him…” Mune mumbled.
“Initiating test of haptic…”
“No! We are good. Thank you, CD! We are ready to begin, match current conditions of the simulated location to actual.”
The temperature seemed to adjust, the time of day shifted to early evening, the sun low on the horizon. A soft breeze rustled the grass and clothing. Even the scent matched up to what they would have been back home. It was almost disorienting for a moment until one adjusted. Mune drew lowered their center of gravity, getting into a fighting stance.
“Ready.”
Ruka seemed to be thinking it all over, considering the very risky training session Cora and he had facilitated in this same – no, the real – courtyard. Accepted but despised risks. Heavy ones too. And they had actually been hurt. Mentally and physically.
“Maybe this will be better, so long as it’s not abused,” he admitted, and sighed, setting the thoughts aside. There was training to be had. “Zuza, do you want to take a position?”
Karran shifted his feet as his hand drifted toward the lightsaber at his hip. Single bladed, more familiar. Years of training, drilling, sparring. But his eyes darted to Ruka, the one person he had likely trained with more than his sparring droid. Ruka knew his style, his forms, his rhythms in a fight. That was a liability. His hand reached for the secondary saber slung behind his back. It was time to surprise his old friend.
Zuza looked around as the room shifted into a different place. Pretty epic really.
“I can do.” The Mercanary confirmed, before stepping up, “Ready!”
“Ready, then,” the Mirialan Elder murmured softly, gravely. His expression loosened, not quite blank, but a focused sort of calm, and his “lightsaber” appeared in his hand as he turned fluidly into a battle stance everyone present had seen before.
A heartbeat.
Ruka was the first to move; his senses, muscles, and mind all livewires, alive with the alacrity of years of training and a lifetime of ingrained, survival-primed instinct paid for in blasters down his block and mouths to feed. He was the second between synapses, the pull of the trigger, and he was off.
Before the other three could even blink, the normally gentle Sith was lunging, his fist slamming down into the illusory dirt. From it, a telekinetic shockwave plumed, rolling forth and, to the AI’s credit, even throwing up grass, rocks, and dust in its wake like a bomb detonation.
He meant to catch Zuza, to bend the weave of his will and shape the telekinetic wave around her, but his mind frayed from the complex task just shy of the edges, like slipping through his grip. It was coming for her too.
Mune drew on the Force, it responded, flowing warmly through them. A familiar thing. A cherished friend. The Shistavanen’s heart beat once, the Barrier a ripple around them. Instant. There with a singular blink. The tk wave crashed against the translucent bubble, sending another ripple through the points of impact. A cascade that ran through its surface before giving way under Ruka’s mental strength.
The Barrier did its job. Falling in pieces along the path of the wave. Like so much broken glass that vanished into the void before ever hitting the ground. Mune stood unfazed, ruby eyes gleaming.
The dust did not even have tike to settle before the Shistavanen had it within the grip of his awareness. It exploded back towards Ruka, a wall of sand and dust particles. The matter reacting to the elder’s bidding in an attempt to throw off the Mirialan and Human both, and try and give Karran the advantage.
The Mirialan’s telekinetic battle continued, just as fast as Mune’s retort. He knew he wouldn’t be able to redirect something so fine, and so instead opted for something less so.
His armorweave cape snapped free as he mentally undid the clasps and threw the billowing black and gold fabric out like a sheet, a shield. Telekinetically spread before he and Zuza, he willed it to bend in the middle like a windbreak while the rest spread on either side of them, the sound of million tiny impacts roaring in pitter-patter on the other side as the debris hit it and scattered around them instead of blinding. The cape didn’t fall, either, with him holding it in place.
“Zu, go!” he barked to his companion.
Zuza was a step ahead of him, moving into action with totally-real lightersaber in hand. The short Human knew how to play her height to advantage, sliding to lower her angle as she drew closer to the Zabrak and slashed up.
It was real enough to swipe at Karran with an expert slash, a short laugh escaping her. Even if he managed to escape it through force fuckery, that felt good.
And it was even better knowing that she couldn’t actually hurt him.
Zuza’s blade passed harmlessly throught the Sith’s chest. But the wave of pain it left behind was like almost nothing he’d experienced before. The closest he could recall was the Terentatek’s claws, bit even those hadn’t burned in the same way. The explosion that took his arm was so fast that he didn’t feel it.
He stepped back, to retreat from the assault, but when his eyes re-opened, they were yellow and bloodshot. His heart rate and blood pressure spiked sharply. His breathing quickened, flaring his nostrils like a Reek about to charge. Karran looked down at the much smaller human woman.
His hand gripped the Forcesaber behind his back and ignited the blades simultaneously and lashed out, seeking to return the gesture she had paid him.
She had intended to not get involved. Zuza was a competent, fully capable fighter who had gotten by…mostly fine, with or without Zig being close to her. She also knew it wasn’t her job to protect her. Also it was just training. It was a safe environment. She needed to be able to fight her own fights, take her own hits…
But maybe that wasn’t fully it. Maybe she was more selfish than she realized.
She had watched quietly as she got into the haptic suit. She had helped contribute to some of the coding that the Exarch had commissioned for the building of the training facility. So, she knew what to do. Checked her loadout, held her hands out, and stepped onto the edge of the grid, letting herself be ‘warped’ into the simulation.
She was taken aback, immediately with how “real” it felt and looked.
She was in her armor, and had all of her…stuff. Good. She looked out through the visor of her helmet, the HUD translating distance and details for her. She watched as Ruka and Mune engaged, while Karran made an attack towards Zuza.
Maybe it was seeing Karran back that had sparked something inside her. Maybe she just was never going to get over being protective of the woman she loved. Maybe Zig, deep down, had been itching to get her hands dirty. Hippocratic. considering how happy she’d been not having her life threatened by crystal monsters.
But Karran being back was…good. A competitive part of her spirit seemed to flare. And then something inside her head Zuza asking, perhaps not intentionally for help.
Zig activated her jet boots and launched herself towards Zuza and the Zabrak. She angled herself and did some quick calculations to make sure her parabolic arc landed her just between the Human mercenary and the Zabraki warrior.
Beskar boots clunked loudly as she landed, planted, and raised her armored forearm to meet Karran’s blade, just as the vambrace-shield came to life and activated.
“Hey ‘horns, why don’t you pick on someone yer own size?”
Karran’s strike was powerful beyond anything she’d have anticipated, however. The mere brutality of the swing sent numbing tremors down her entire arm. She tried to keep her feet planted to make good on her one-liner, to say something clever to Zuza, but then found herself not planted on her feet, and flying backwards a good few meters.
Almost nailed it…
Zuza did everything she could, but the saber was still going to land true.
Karran was faster than she’d anticipated. They hadn’t really fought together before, which was always a disadvantage, was about to be a painful .
But then Zig was zipping past, stumbling past.
The Human’s eyes widened, reassured by that it was just a simulation but worried still, “Karkin’ porgs Zig- Stay close!”
Ruka’s eyes widened at the entrance, as surprised as the rest of them, and only an echo in the Force warning him of danger – not to himself, but to his apprentice, felt through their bond like a twist of the gut secondhand. As Zig practically blasted past Zuza and into him, all shining colorful beskar and having successfully blocked what he knew from experience would have been a brutal blow – Karran, he sighed, so damned tired and yet unsurprised, somewhere inside – he started to frown.
But instead of turning down, the corner of his mouth on one side ticked up the slightest bit, gladdened.
“Nice timing, Kaliska,” he complimented, remembering at the last moment not to address her as captain anymore. His stance shifted, accommodating having two allies on his flanks, and he let his cape drop to levitate saber and sword above his palms. “Watch him and expect barriers.”
So said, Ruka launched said weapons forward with a concentrated effort of will, splitting his mind in two to direct each with expert gestures of each hand. It was a difficult dichotomy, straining in different directions body and mind both, between the gestures and the concentration on his targets, but he did it now as naturally as breathing. His sapphire blade lunged for Mune, while his sapphire saber spun towards his apprentice, testing just as mercilessly as Karran seemed intent on fighting.
The blade passed through the…armor? Zig? The Zabrak’s eye twitched.
“Glad you joined the fun, Zig. I thought you were going to sit on the sidelines for the whole game!”
A twinge of pain in his chest and alarms in the back of his mind. Karran brought the blade of his own weapon up to block the incoming lightsaber.
“You’ll have to try harder than that arramio! You trained me better than that!”
Mune had not moved from their starting spot. They remained focused, calm, breath even. The Force moved through them, around them. With but a brief thought, it coalesced once more between them and Ruka. The sapphire blade struck the barrier. A ripple cascaded over the translucent surface and faded again into the aether. The sword sent spinning through the air, momentarily deflected.
A moment was all the Shistavenen needed. They moved. It was sudden. Their amethyst khukri was pulled from its holster on his thigh, the distance closed between them and the Mirialan while the sword continued to spin behind them.
They slashed in a wide arc, the small weapon cutting s brilliant arc. Had it been a real weapon and made contact, it could have been a devastating blow. They aimed to take Ruka from sternum to left hip.
Mune’s ruby eyes never left Ruka. Sharp. Calculating. There could be no doubt their mind too remained perfectly aware of everything around them. Vigilant for any attacks form behind or their flanks. For now, those eyes were solely on Ruka, what they gauged as the biggest threat as another Elder Force user.
Zuza swung again. Karran having a weapon made him much more dangerous, doing something to get it away from him could only be a good thing.
She believed that for most of the seconds of her swing until her foot slipped. The Human overbalanced, cursing all the way and completely missed any attempt at smacking Karran’s wrist.
“Oh yeah, well how about a knuckle sandwhich!” Zig’s modulated voice chided as her fist crackled with energy and she thrust her right shockboxing glove out in an uppercut motion. She hadn’t anticipated Zuza’s swing missing and Karran’s reaction speed, however. She should have known better.
Her uppercut missed and she growled behind her visor.
“Fight me like a man, bitch,” Zig sniped towards the Zabrak.
“Earn my attention!” Karran ducked Zig’s swing and lunged toward Zuza. She was still staggering and off balance.
“Ruka! Catch!” The Zabrak grabbed the smaller woman by her clothes and heaved her at the Mirialan
Ruka’s hand jerked inwards as Mune slashed at him, and his sword spun with it, interposing to intercept the amethyst kukri with a crystalline, resonating claaaAAAnnnnnnnnng between them, more sonorous than any strike of steel. He leaned back a step, hands moving, preparing to summon back the saber too and create a floating defensive screen before his next attack, only…
“Ruka! CATCH!”
Only, well. Karran.
He really should’ve known. After all, he had trained his arrarmio and knew how the Zabrak tended to think – in ramming speed – as much as Karran knew his tactics. Like throwing a whole as person. Him, he’d have done it with his mind. Karran…had muscle.
And Zuza was flying right at him.
Protective instinct reigned as soon as she was grabbed, overwriting the ones to dodge or counter; it just wasn’t an option. His swiftly puppeteering hands retracted, saber and sword clattering to the earth, and his arms widened, feet planting– then there was impact. His arms wrapped around her. One hand found the back of her neck and base of her skull and tucked her head, tight and fast, into his shoulder while he curled around her, tucking them both into a roll. It would have been clumsier, a disaster, but for how he inhaled the Force in one sharp, reflexive breath, eyes flash burning to gold and glowing by the time they hit the ground. Two turns, three, somersaulting, and then he had their momentum, feet back under him, skidding in a crouch with Zuza in his hold. And no dagger lodged in his chest from the whole thing. Thank kriff.
Mune had to stop… well. They didn’t HAVE to necessarily, but they did and watched Ruka roll with the human. It was an impressive catch, even for Ruka, the Shistavanen thought. It was also an impressive show of strength from Karran than he threw her at all. Mune’s whiskers twitched; they felt the Force writhing, the shudder through the air, power being drawn and shaped. They dropped into a crouch even as the Mirialan rose, placing the human back on her feet.
The air felt charged. Ruka’s eyes shone brilliant gold, the Force a maelstrom of volatility drawn and forged. There was a split second to react. Mune twisted as arcs of lightning shredded the air. Their eyes registered the split stream, realizing the Mirialan aimed simultaneously to strike out at them. The smell of ozone tickled their nostrils, and they made to shout out, but in the periphery, they saw Karran dodge quickly away in a roll.
They twisted full around, grabbed Ruka’s Sapphire Blade then surged forward. Mune ran under the stream of lightning. In a wild slash, the Amethyst Khukri was aimed to cut into the Mirialan’s calf. The Sapphire Blade, the longer blade, slashed higher to take Ruka in the thigh. The Amethyst Khukri, Mune knew nearly immediately, was going to miss the mark, even as their momentum brought them even with the man’s flank, the Sapphire Blade about to bite in unless Ruka could react quickly enough.
Zuza had made a series of curses as Karran picked her up and threw her. It was one minor disadvantage of being so small, she guessed.
But it did bring one *ad*vantage. She wasn’t beside the person who was really really good at hitting her. The Human did feel slightly bad going after the shista, but alas, training is training.
She swung, at least getting a good arc to swipe at the furred one’s legs. It wasn’t great, but enough to make Mune have to react.
Sadly they did so quite well, managing to turn and use their amethyst kukiri to deflect the lightsaber. However that would be the blade’s last act, the green blaze of the saber cracking through the amethyst blade. The crystal shattered, leaving a ragged tip atop the handle and thousands of pieces scattering across the simulated floor.
Zig growled behind her visor. Her primal, first instinct was to launch herself at Karran. That was what she wanted to do, wanted to get up close and personal.
But that wasn’t the smart thing to do. And no matter how hard she trained or tweaked her loadouts, Zig was never going to be stronger than Karran. Especially when he was tapping into the mystic powers of the Force (which Zig still considered cheating but respected it), but realized she needed to what others had come to rely on her for: her ability to use her head.
A quick calculation and she grabbed the smoke grenade at her hip. She pulled the pin and then lobbed it down right between her and Karran, guest-imating.
She didn’t have time to account for the wind, but for now, a cloud of thick blinding smoke enveloped Zig and Karran.
She took the moment to brandish the Diamond Sword (the simulated version of it at least) on her back. Marick had trusted her with it after all her service in the defense of Clan Arcona. She wore it with pride, but at the end of the day, she was more comfortable with her fists, but against a raging Zabrak with a lazer sword, the Diamond swords range might be what kept her alive.
She lunged forward and swung for Karran, able to see him thanks to helmets multi-spectrum visor.
“Your opponent is me!” she declared through her helmets modulated tone.
Smoke filled Karran’s vision. Through his fury he tried to breathe deep and anticipate Zig’s attack. But not in enough time as the blade cut deep. Sharp, clear pain.
The Sith tried to focus his mind through the pain. Use it. He reached a hand out at Zig, willing the Force to shove her back at Ruka, but the pain cut through his mind again and broke his concentration. With a shake of his horned head, he brought his saber up to a readied position.
Though Mune had stolen his own blade to use against him, Ruka was still had two others, and he was still quicker. His emerald daggers flew into his hands. Ruka clenched one in a fist around the hilt of his second knife and swung it forward, as if punching.
The telekinetic hammer blow was much slower, compared to the way both he and Mune’s bodies could dance, their blades. It barreled forward, strong enough to shatter any barrier the Shistavanen created now, but easy enough to dodge. And dodge Mune did, deftly flowing aside and then lunging back in, slicing at him.
Faster, Ruka snapped one arm downwards in a deflection so quick, the colors of the crystals blurred; shattered amethyst at their feet, sapphire to emerald, singing out in a scree. With a flex of his wrist his sword was caught and turned artfully away, the Force coursing through him, and Mune’s own gemlike eyes widening in shock at the expert riposte as he stumbled slightly back, reeling.
Zuza was managing to achieve very little with a whole lot of effort.
Saber in hand she had attempted another strike at Mune, the Shista distracted and already dealing with so many angles that it should have been an easy shot.
If her hands weren’t sweaty that is.
As she hit the height of an arc to swing, the lightsaber slipped out. It soared up and landed a few feet away, the green beam melting the pebbles and grass it had happened to land amongst.
The Human watched it land, her eyes narrowing as if it had directly offended her.
Zig frowned as the smoke dispersed. Her confidence in facing down a raging Zabrak went with it. Quick-sheathing her sword, she tried to take advantage of her previous hit and maybe catch the Zabrak offguard. So she darted forward and went for an upercut with her shockboxing gloves.
It did not go as planned. In retrospect, trying to punch someone with a saber wasn’t exactly the smartest play, but if she’d been able to get a muscle or tendon the shock could have hindered the Zabrak more.
It didn’t, and instead she found herself punching into a lightsaber blade.
“KARKING SCHUTTAZABRAK!”
As the Zygerrian recoiled from the shock of punching a lit lightsaber, Karran coiled up his leg to kick forward with the intent of planting it in her chest and driving her backwards.
Zig grinned as, despite the pain that her armor mitigated…mostly, she anticipated Karran’s…typical-Karran, brutish rebuttal.
As the foot went to connect with her chest, she deftly wove her hands in a semi-circle and then jabbed her palm outwards into Karran’s ankle. The torque of her jab wasn’t meant to damage, but to deflect the kick away from her center of mass. And it did.
She danced on the balls of her feet, a feral grin forming behind her vizor. “You call this a tilly?” she taunted.
While the Shistavanen reeled, Ruka struck, body moving to the drumbeat of his battlemind, flowing with the Force. He leapt and spun, one hand flashing out, emerald dagger like an extension of his hand as gravity bolstered his inhuman speed and momentum and cut deep across his target’s torso. His trailing hand was just behind, half his body still falling, boot toes of one foot barely touching the ground, the follow-up slash aimed to disable at tendons.
And then the fissure rocked in his brain: blood on white fur, on the grass. Too real. He felt immediately and horribly sick, and balked, trying to stop his own forward momentum. But it was only heartbeats of time altogether, between his leap, each attack, and his completed descent; the best he could do was let go, so that it was just his hand slapping over Mune’s torso and rocking them both as he just about kissed the ground that he’d forgotten, for a moment, was holographic.
The Mirialan barely recovered, rolling onto his back, grasping for his dropped dagger, trying to get both up to defend himself.
It was getting ridiculous. Yes these were force wielding badasses but by the stars she was a badass too!
Maybe it was the Force itself empowering through her anger, or maybe Mune was finally distracted enough that the tiny mass of angry Human went unnoticed.
Either way, Zuza swung and it was finally finally angled to actually strike the Shista in the arm.
Zig’s mind calculated. The thrill of conflict, a challenge both physical and mental. She could hear her heartbeat race.
Thermal dynamics…yes.
She toggled her vambrace and thrust her hand out in front of her.
“Hey Karran you know what time it is?” She paused.
“04:20–cuz BLAZE IT”
A cone of flame erupted into the space in front of her.
A puzzled look came across the Zabrak’s face.
“No, it is not four-twenty in the morning or afternoon.”
The Sith quickly spun to the side, out of range of the cone of flames, and placed squarely between the the Zygerrian and her allies.
“I believe we may need to stop the fight! I am worried that Zig has suffered a brain injury. She does not seem to know what time it is!” The edges of his leather robes smoked slightly as they pulled away from the intense heat of the flamethrower.
“Must have been distracted by you hulking out with your space magic and Lazer sword instead of fighting me like a real warrior,” she growled a retort through her helmet.
A snarl curled at Karran’s lips. He slowly reached a hand out to Zig once again, but instead of willing the Force to send her away, he simply manifested, in his mind,a hand around her. It squeezed slightly, with just a bit of pressure around the windpipe, not enough to impede breathing, but enough to remind her it was there.
“Do not choke on your words, Zig.”
Zig felt the…familiar grip of the Force around her breathing and made a little squealing noise from behind her helmet.
“…harder, you little risshi,” ||[bitch]||.
She didn’t like to brag about her time dating Alaisy, but it had come with a few…perks to her resistance to certain…things.
“Language!” Ruka barked from across the field.
(Unfortunately for everyone present, his study of Zabraki in order to be a better brother and honorary tribe member to Sera had included expletives, which were, of course, the exact second thing she taught him.)
Mune lowered both Sapphire Blades, eyes darting to where Karran had Zig up. The Shistavann arched a brow, wondering if things were getting a bit rough or not…a choke was still a choke, a throw still a throw… It was only the weapons that were simulated after all. They would have to offer to heal any bumps an bruises before all was said and done, that wasfor certain… some people always played rough it seemed. “CD. Disengage simulation.”
The the temperature returned to a normal temperature for the facility, then the sounds of birds and the breeze faded. The courtyard flickered then began to fade away to reveal the training center. “Simulation ended, haptic suits disconnecting,” came the AIs voice.
Karran luckily took the queue to release Zig and actually lower her back to the floor. All simulated weapons and armour faded away and they were left with the soft humof machinery winding down. “And everyone’s limbs are intact! Thank you for particpating in this test of the simulator. The haptic suits definitely add a bitmore punch. I will make sure to submit a report ofthe test. I hope all of you at least enjoyed yourselves… somewhat?”