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Post by Deleted on Jul 9, 2015 14:23:25 GMT -8
Oya'barir te Naast- Who can post on this thread: Don Vhett and Galen
Timeframe: Jedi vs. Sith era, 16 years before current timeline "The father's been useful, don't get me wrong...but he failed the training, and quite early on. He cracked. What makes you believe the son will be any different? This is a waste of our resources and time. Our preliminary evals have concluded he's possibly even more psychotic when it comes to violence than the father ever was."
"I should hope so. 'Normal' would never successfully complete this training. Maybe the problem was the father wasn't psychotic enough."
"Remember when I warned you about Cato? Then he snapped."
"Cato was a fluke. We've learned from that and modified the program accordingly, you know that."
"A killing rampage on Arkania is a 'fluke'?"
"In a manner of speaking."
"Zion shows more promise than Kad. He's younger, more adaptable, more predictable, easier to mold. "
"So I've been told."
"Then why aren't we training him?"
"Fair is fair, Lutz nabbed Kad before you found Zion. But don't you worry...your candidate will have his chance. We have need for more than one additional member for the program."
"And if Kad is unsuccessful? What if he ends up like Cato, or even like Jazeel? Have you forgotten what she did to Ophor? I've never seen so much blood."
"If Kad fails, you'll have the satisfaction of telling me 'I told you so.'"
"...you mean if he hasn't murdered us yet."
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Post by Deleted on Jul 11, 2015 17:39:59 GMT -8
I love to fight. I always have.
I probably get off on it more than I should. I'm not talking about shooting a slug or throwing a grenade, though that's nice too. I mean using your bare hands to hurt someone. A fist to the face, a kick to the stomach. The splatter of blood, the crushing sound of bone breaking. Close and personal is far more satisfying, even if a blade is necessary. Don't get me wrong. I'm not sick. I don't have to hurt or kill people to enjoy myself. I just find it gratifying on a personal level when I do. Would I be mando'ad if I didn't? Here's the truth: some people need to be hurt. Some people deserve to die. If I have to do it, might as well enjoy it. People always do better when doing something they love.
As soon as I stepped off the transport, I could feel it. The heavy gravity of Carida. My body fought to adjust as it pressed down upon me. I slowly turned, panning a complete 360 to get my bearings. Jagged mountains surrounded the equality harsh lines of the Academy of Carida. As I took it all in, excited anticipation and nervous trepidation assaulted me. This was the best of the best of combat training, a once in a lifetime opportunity. When I gave 'extra assistance' during my last mission I did so because I was afraid if agent-so-and-so blotched it, I wouldn't get paid. The fact it gave me a chance to partake in my violent interest was just a bonus. I had no idea the higher-ups would reward me with what they called 'advanced assault tactical training'.
My Ba'vodu Drakon was proud of me. I learned most of my fighting skills from him, after all. He's been with the Collective for a very long time, working as muscle for their missions. Against my buirs wishes, I joined as a pilot just two years ago when my ba'vodu recommended me for one of their flying gigs. I'd never looked back after that. Every mission was different and, while some were a bit on the routine side, most of the time it was exciting. I learned a lot from their other pilots too...as a 17 year old, there was a lot more I could learn. The experience and knowledge I'd gleaned had been a reward in itself, much less the credits I earned and the interesting people I met.
And now I was here, on Carida, just because I handled some punk who wanted to take out the operative on my last mission. Life was very very good.
A man in an Imperial uniform greeted me with cold indifference. I didn't care, I was grinning like a di'kut. He led me through the Academy with hardly a word. Cadets stared at me as I walked through, confusion evident in their gazes and whispers. Some looked on mockingly, but it didn't bother me. They could sneer all they wanted, I was going to be trained at the Academy and that was all that mattered. The man took me to an empty barracks room. It was stark and sparsely furnished. I immediately sat my pack upon the stiff cot as the man instructed me in firm terms that I was to remain until I was fetched. As much as I wanted to sneak away to explore, I didn't dare chance ruining my golden opportunity.
After I unpacked what little I brought, I threw myself on the cot and promptly fell asleep.
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Post by Galen on Jul 12, 2015 8:29:35 GMT -8
Tap, tap, tap.
The tip of the cane skittered across the floor as the man walked, back and forth in front of him in the manner one would expect of a blind man, yet it always fell just short of touching the walls or other obstacles in his path, never quite fulfilling its intended purpose.
Tap, tap, tap.
It was a game he liked to play. Seeing how many others were actually paying attention and would notice the small inconsistencies he sprinkled throughout his performance. A little avoidance here, a touch of awareness there, small things that might be attributed to happenstance or one of his other senses, were they not such a frequent occurrence.
Tap, tap, tap.
The blindfold covering his empty sockets was merely for the comfort of others, as most were discomfited by the appearance of a man with no eyes, yet he imagined the aesthetics were supremely badass. Not that he was overly concerned with such things, mind you, but it never hurt to be aware of one's appearance. Even when one had no eyes with which to perceive it.
Tap, tap, tap.
He found the room with no difficulty, and upon reaching the door he retracted his cane into itself and slid it into a pocket in his knee-length tunic for safe-keeping. Taking a moment to survey the place, he noted each smell, from the harsh sterility of the recently used cleaning products to the earthy aromas its occupant had pulled in from outside. Next was the sounds. The slight whine of the distant air circulation fans, the subtle echoes of a conversation taking place five rooms over, and the ever-so-faint whoosh of air on the breath of the sleeping man, timing itself perfectly with the heartbeat of a being at rest.
He seemed healthy enough. Had no scent of disease or sickness about him, and his aura shone strong even while at rest, though Galen hated to rely on such things alone. He preferred to utilize all the tools at his disposal, in addition to the one best suited for the task. Finally taking that first step into the room, he moved silently to stand beside the occupied bed, then slipped his cane back out of his tunic, aiming it at the metal bedpost next to his new student's head before activating the release mechanism.
CLANG!
"Rise and shine, young man. We have a lot of work ahead of us."
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Post by Deleted on Jul 13, 2015 15:43:11 GMT -8
At the loud, metalic sound I practically leapt out off the cot, fists up at the ready and, despite being a little groggy, immediately assumed a fighting stance with my left foot forward and my right back. My head cleared quickly as the adrenaline kicked in and my mind processed the person standing in front of me. I had no idea who the man was, nor why his eyes were covered, but I didn't care. I remained at the ready, having the distinct feeling this could be a test. The Collective was no joke. Letting your guard down could prove fatal. And wouldn't being killed by a blindfolded man be a sad way for Don V'hett to go?
My brown eyes were wary as I studied the man, formulating a plan of attack should I need it. "Who are you?" My voice was a bit hoarse from sleep and I was positive my hair was comical...not that he could see it, anyway.
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Post by Galen on Jul 13, 2015 19:01:50 GMT -8
"My name is Galen." There was a light tap as the tip of his cane returned to the floor. "I am here to kill you." Then with no further warning (as if he hadn't given far more than he should have already), his left hand drew a pistol from behind his back, took aim at the center of the young man's chest, and squeezed the trigger. In truth, however, the attack was not meant to succeed. It was meant instead to add to the confusion the man no doubt felt upon first waking, and on top of that create a threat that required action. It was important to see how he responded when caught unawares and potentially confused by a series of events that did not make sense. Would it occur to him that a true assassin would not have woken him prior to attacking? Would such a realization cause him to hesitate, or would he simply react and try to sort through it all later? Galen wanted to know the type of man he was training, and this was the first step toward that goal.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 17, 2015 15:52:22 GMT -8
A second after the words were out of Galen's mouth I leapt into action, not waiting to see what came next. Keeping awareness where Galen's cane was in case I needed to block it, my right fist jabbed hard and fast at his nose as his hand reached behind his back. I hoped it would connect and stun the man as I followed up with another automatic jab to knock him out cold should that one fall short of doing so.
My heart was racing wildly in anticipation and, even, excitement. I could almost feel the sensation of my fist bashing in his face, crushing bone with that sickening crunch, the coppery smell of blood filling the air. Maybe when he fell, his head would bash against the ground like a ripe melon. I know, I sound like a psychopath. But there really is something alluring and gratifying about violence and killing.
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Post by Galen on Jul 17, 2015 21:33:08 GMT -8
Galen imagined that connecting with air would be far less gratifying than striking human flesh, but that was all the young man's efforts would win him. With his feet planted evenly beneath his shoulders, it was no difficult feat to slip aside as the punch encroached on his space, feeling it progress past his nose as he rotated forty-five degrees and re-situated his feet beneath his shoulders again. The elevated heart rate was normal for a man in a life or death situation, as was the scent of adrenaline coursing through his body, but the sense of glee rather than dread was what shed light on this particular psychosis. This was a man who enjoyed the violence. Galen's left hand remained on the grip of the pistol, though the weapon remained behind his back for the time being as its draw had been interrupted by the young man's attack. Wanting to see how far his new student would take this outburst, he neglected to initiate his own counter-attack and instead opted to see what the boy would do next.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 18, 2015 12:12:56 GMT -8
I anticipated a counter attack from the blindfolded man...he was here to kill me afterall, right? But he did nothing more than step to my right, effectively and simply avoiding my fist. My follow-up punch didn't come. I instead kept my fists at the ready in front of me, shuffling my booted feet back slightly yet maintaining my position with him on my right, facing my cot and not me. I could have swung around to face him again, but I didn't want to get boxed in.
I assumed his left hand gripped a blade or blaster, and I could easily block it with my right hand from this angle. While I couldn't attack him very effectively at this position, my assumption was neither could he. It occured to me the man could have swung around whatever was behind his back into my right side after he avoided my punch...yet he didn't. Still alert, my brow furrowed in confusion as the man did nothing but calmly stand there.
"If you're here to kill me, you're doing a pretty shitty job." I rasped out sarcastically, the corner of my mouth raising slightly in mirth. "The least you could do is make my last seconds of life fun, yeah?" I chuckled goodnaturedly, ready to counter whatever he would do next.
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Post by Galen on Jul 18, 2015 13:11:54 GMT -8
A small smile formed on his lips, a token of what little humor there was in the situation. If he was truly doing a poor job of it, as the other man said, then he should be immobilized by now. One should never assume success or failure until it has been achieved. His torso shifted to face Don fully while his feet remained diagonal in relation to him, left forward and right back. His left hand moved first, drawing the pistol out to fire at the center of his chest, while the cane moved simultaneously, arcing up to crack him across the temple should it remain undefended. Neither was to be the true attack, but both would be debilitating should they land, the pistol knocking him out cold with a stun blast and the cane striking with enough force to daze him for several seconds.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 19, 2015 16:00:19 GMT -8
Still in a fighting stance with my left foot forward and right foot back, I quickly stepped my right foot forward as I pivoted with my left, becoming parallel to the man as my right hand immediately pushed the man's left wrist to his right to avoid the blaster altogether, using enough force that I hoped the blaster would fly out of his hand. I ducked at nearly the same time, barely missing the stick that was swinging for my face as I used the move to barrel into the man's left side with the attempt to grasp my arms tightly around him in a restrictive embrace and wrestle him to the ground.
I was more curious than anything at this point. Unless he was playing with his food, I didn't believe that he wanted to kill me. He wasn't trying very hard. It was mildly disappointing. Then again, I couldn't blame him for taking his time if he really did want to kill me. I sometimes did the same to prolong the fight if I thought I wasn't in immediate danger and could handle it. Otherwise, I was quick and efficient. No need to risk your neck for the thrill of the violence if you're in a precarious position, immirite?
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Post by Galen on Jul 20, 2015 7:13:06 GMT -8
Galen kept himself facing the young man throughout the ordeal, shifting his torso to follow the movement as he very competently avoided both attacks. It was only his counter that gave Galen a reason for concern, though not for himself. Rather than fighting the strike to his left hand and in all likelihood losing the blaster, Galen opted to move the hand with it, lessening the blow and retaining his grip on the weapon as Don shot in under his arms. The move, a very common one in those holonet wrestling tournaments, was designed to take your opponent off his feet and gain you the high ground, but this one was poorly executed to say the least. Don had simply barreled forward to slam himself into his abdomen, hoping that the momentum alone would be enough to drop him.
Once again, Galen decided to help the action along rather than fight it, though to the detriment of its practitioner. He dropped the cane and the pistol leapt from his left hand to his right as the boy wrestled for control, and in a moment of particular effort on his part, Galen slipped his left forearm beneath Don's chin, capturing his head in a guillotine choke just as he brought both his feet off the ground and wrapped them around his opponent's waist as they dropped. If the young man had no counter for this turn of events, it would then be a simple matter to place the barrel of the pistol against the exposed back of his neck and begin with the instruction.
"Never play to your own weakness, as you can never know all of your enemy's strengths."
If the boy then submitted to defeat, he would release him and allow him to stand.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 20, 2015 11:21:12 GMT -8
A few possible scenarios played out in my mind. My hands were free, but he could choke me out before I'd be able to use them effectively. No, he got me. It was damn shame, but he did. I had been too cocky and I was completely unarmed. So this was how I was going to die...on Carida by a blind man. I couldn't help it, I instictively chuckled. Hardly anything came out as the man's pressure increased with the shaking of my body. To counteract it, I let my body go limp to find some relief as I spewed a cough.
"Do it." I managed to choke out, my mouth twisted in a pain-filled smile. "Just make sure you play me up when you tell people how you killed me, 'lek?" I wanted to laugh again, but couldn't.
Part of me was making peace with my death while the other was cautiously optimistic that my instincts had been correct: the man wasn't going to kill me. That didn't mean he couldn't torture me though...but he would have to move into a better position for that, and I was ready to do my best to take advantage of it. Unless he choked me unconscious first. Then I was fucked.
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Post by Galen on Jul 20, 2015 18:03:41 GMT -8
Close enough. With the admission of defeat came an easing of the pressure on his neck, followed by a complete release of his head and waist. When he leaned back, Galen swung his leg over in front of him and rolled himself back to a standing position. He returned the blaster to his belt and the cane leapt smoothly from where it had fallen back to his hand as Galen returned to a neutral posture.
"Your standing work was accurate and well-thought, but the takedown was sloppy and you clearly have no clue what to do with your hands or head. Mandalorian, I'm guessing? They tend to focus on hitting things as hard as they can and ignoring everything else, but that only works when you're wearing heavy armor. You need to learn finesse."
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Post by Deleted on Jul 20, 2015 18:54:23 GMT -8
My first instinct was to attack the man again as soon as he released me. As difficult as it was, I restrained myself. I was out of my depth here. I did pull my knife from my pocket with my right hand as I quickly stood, immediately going back into a fighting stance as he turned his back to me to stand himself. I had no intention of using it...unless he attacked me again. I didn't want to get caught weaponless next time.
I was about three feet away from him now, left foot forward with my right back. My cheeks were hot with embarrassment as I realized the man was the one who was probably going to instruct me. I also was annoyed...I didn't like losing. I didn't know how to respond to his evaluation of me so, for once, I said nothing. I remained watchful and cautious as I waited for him to make his next move, lethal or not.
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Post by Galen on Jul 20, 2015 19:00:14 GMT -8
There was a pause as Galen waited for Don to either speak or put the knife away, but the other man did neither.
"Oh, you wish to continue? Very well then."
He removed the pistol from his belt and tossed it across the room to land much too softly on a shelf beside the door, then placed the cane on the floor in front of him and waited. His pose was relaxed, hands clasped together in front of him, with his right still holding the cane where it rested between his feet.
"Attack me."
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Post by Deleted on Jul 20, 2015 19:12:19 GMT -8
"I'm not a fool." I said simply, carefully watching him. I made no show of moving. He had already owned me. I had no reason to think he couldn't do so again, and his confidence told me I'd be foolished to try anything if I didn't have to. And I'm not foolish. I have pride, but I don't let it get me into situations I don't think I can dig myself out of.
Even if he wasn't here to kill me as he said, I couldn't see the benefit to myself by attacking him. "What is it you want?"
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Post by Galen on Jul 23, 2015 19:16:58 GMT -8
"The reason I'm here has nothing to do with want. I was sent to train you, and that is what I'll do." So then, he enjoys the violence, but not at the expense of his head. That, I can work with. The cane lifted off the floor to indicate a matching set of pants and long-sleeved shirt, as well as shin-length boots piled neatly on one end of the bed. "Change into those and meet me in the courtyard. You've had enough rest." And then he stepped past the young man and proceeded out of the room, leaving him no recourse but to do as instructed.
The training gear in questions was skin tight and incorporated several pockets, all currently empty, that would later be used to house weights as Don's training progressed. Being mandalorian, he had no doubt trained in armor before, but Carida was already twice the weight he would be accustomed to, and the suit on its own weighed 10 kilos here, thanks to the neuranium fibers woven into it. Which also incidentally aided in preventing injury during training.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 24, 2015 11:49:01 GMT -8
I shuffled my body around as he moved to leave, not willing to leave my back to him. After the door closed I reluctantly threw my knife upon the bed, next to the clothing I was instructed to wear. I stripped down completely, throwing my clothing aside and tossing my boots. The new clothing I was given seemed too small. As I struggled to slip on the pants and shirt, I realized it was merely skin-tight...and, for a suit, heavy as fuck. Carida's gravity and the suit combined was very uncomfortable. Once I realized what the little pockets in the suit must be for, a hint of dread ran through me. For the first time since I was offered the training program, I was not looking forward to it.
My face set with grim determination as the words of my people rose to the fore in my mind. "Mishuk gotal'u meshuroke, pako kyore."
I struggled to find where I could conceal my knife on my person. There simply wasn't any room. I shoved it under my pillow instead before deciding to tidy my clothes. As I left, I tried to divine what courtyard Galen was referring to. I backtracked the path I was taken to get to my barrack. Sure enough, I stumbled upon a courtyard where a few of the academy students were strolling about. They all stared at me in surprise before smirking. I stuck out like a sore thumb.
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Post by Galen on Jul 29, 2015 8:05:14 GMT -8
Galen was already waiting when he arrived, clad in the same form fitting jumpsuit his new protege wore, though his pockets had been fitted with the weights they were meant to carry. He observed the reactions of the other men in the courtyard as he waited, noting their snickering and the jokes they told as Don arrived looking much less confident than he had when he stepped off the shuttle. Let them smirk. When I'm through with this boy he'll be worth any ten of them. That, he knew for a fact. This was not the first man he'd trained, and he was certain it wouldn't be the last, but even those who ultimately failed were still far beyond the range of the common soldier in both skill and ability.
"Strap this on and try to keep up." As he spoke, he held out a belt with a sheath attached, containing a double-edged long-bladed knife. "You're going to need it where we're going." If he was observant, the boy might notice that there was no such weapon for Galen himself. The first few weeks are always the most difficult... Then with no further adieu, he set off at a mild jog toward the nearest mountain peak, disappearing quickly from the sight of the training facility as the forest engulfed him.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 30, 2015 12:31:41 GMT -8
As I rounded the corner, glaring back defiantly at the academy cadets, I spotted Galen. Before I could say a word, he held out the belt with the sheathed knife. I noticed he didn't seem armed at all, but his suit had the weights that mine lacked. Strapping the belt around my waist, my heart sunk into my stomach. The weight seemed to push me down with every movement I made. I struggled to keep up with my teacher as he jogged off, out of the academy proper and toward the forest. Between the world's gravity, the heavy suit and the knife, I felt like I was dying by the time I reached the treeline, the knife thumping against my thigh. I could barely keep Galen in my line-of-sight. He seemed to move effortlessly, almost gracefully. I knew that in time I too would move just as easily...but for now, it seemed nothing more than a pipe dream. I was certain I would explode before I even made an millimeter of progress within my training.
I firmly pushed these pessimistic thoughts out of my mind. I wouldn't make any progress so long as I kept a negative attitude. I was going to tire. I was going to fail. At first. But then I would improve and this would be nothing more than a bad memory. I kept the mantra of Mishuk gotal'u meshuroke, pako kyore. chanting through my mind as I struggled to keep up, my lungs and muscles burning with every breath and movement.
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