Post by Jedi Knight Mahir on Jan 22, 2020 13:06:43 GMT -8
Mahir drilled with his cohort, working hard to earn the respect of the men he know lead, to say nothing of those he was under. The strict nature and firm structure were very different from the way Master Adi had been, very carefree and flowing with the moment. But this was... comforting, in it's own way. Basic form drills with his blade, which he practiced one handed and with the staff. He also practiced on the range with a blaster rifle, apparently something less odd among the Jedi Lords. He thought about abstaining from the sparring matches today, but called over to play rouge force user to another Honoris squad. He looked at the men arrayed before him and their standardized gear, with their red and white uniforms less crisp and clean than they had been this morning but proudly worn. Mahir's own uniform had, by necessity, been tailored specifically for him. Unlike many of those around him, it still smelled of soap, mixed now with dust of the field and crushed grass. The joy of being a reptile, and not having sweat glands, meant tha his laundry rarely reeked of sweat.
On cue, he stepped into the marked off area, starting the match, and glared with solid white eyes at his opponents. The Squad leader called a curt challenge to halt and identify, as per the sops. Mahir grinned, and crouched, leaning down and forward, bracing himself with his off hand as his wing flared out to either side in the open space. The order to engage, came promptly, but the squad was still in marching order, so only the first four could really get muzzles on target in that first vital second. Wings snapped shut, as legs and hand pushed off, and Mahir was airborne and nearly over the squad in that same second. His saber, a training model for this exercise, darted forward tagging three of the squad as he pushed into the jumbled ranks behind with his off hand. The squad, rallied well enough, even as some tumbled to the dirt, blasters were raised and fired, though not with any degree of accuracy, it was enough to force Mahir back, batting two shots wide and catching one on an open palm. The next volley was more accurate, but also easier to catch and redirect as everyone was aiming for center mass, a terrible idea for waiting and experienced saber wielder. four shots were returned to the squad, downing more men, the rest went wide. With a flap, and thrust of a force push, dust and debris rose in a cloud between Mahir and the squad, as he lifted off once more.
This time he backed up as the squads remaining men shot wildly into the dust, he waited quietly, reaching with the force to the fallen men. A moment later several training grenades went off, finishing the squad. And Mahir grinned in exultation for a moment, then whirled in surprise as three members of his own squad sent stun blasts his way. He was able to absorb some of it, but the second wave, which followed quickly, downed him. Stun blasts, firing in a cone, were impossible to deflect, and universally effective to some degree or another. His squad members spent a few minutes explaining the finer points dealing with a sith. Surprise was best, area of effect was a close second, and if all else failed overwhelming numbers would eventually do the trick.
A groggy and rather grumpy Mahir, stirred and sat up, muttering a string of slurred curses in at least eight languages, as the troops prepared for the next round of sparring matches. After a short moment, Mahir stood up, sill grumpy but otherwise no worse for wear. He wandered over to a table where basic refreshments were laid out or the troops and ate a small meals worth of food to help replace the energy spent in the mock combat. Mahir looked back to the training field and saw his squad working on a simple shooting drill. He really needed to find a weapon-smith to fix his charric. It had gotten a bit of beating in a partial building collapse and hadn't worked since. Mahir really missed it's punch, but didn't gripe about it aloud. He closed his eyes and spent a moment clearing away the last remnants of the stun blasts with the help of Ashla's cleansing light. It was then He realized that Lord Malvern was there on the field. The towering, 2.4 meters tall, Stenax looked towards his new Lord, curious to see what had caught the keen and alert eyes of Lord Malvern today.
On cue, he stepped into the marked off area, starting the match, and glared with solid white eyes at his opponents. The Squad leader called a curt challenge to halt and identify, as per the sops. Mahir grinned, and crouched, leaning down and forward, bracing himself with his off hand as his wing flared out to either side in the open space. The order to engage, came promptly, but the squad was still in marching order, so only the first four could really get muzzles on target in that first vital second. Wings snapped shut, as legs and hand pushed off, and Mahir was airborne and nearly over the squad in that same second. His saber, a training model for this exercise, darted forward tagging three of the squad as he pushed into the jumbled ranks behind with his off hand. The squad, rallied well enough, even as some tumbled to the dirt, blasters were raised and fired, though not with any degree of accuracy, it was enough to force Mahir back, batting two shots wide and catching one on an open palm. The next volley was more accurate, but also easier to catch and redirect as everyone was aiming for center mass, a terrible idea for waiting and experienced saber wielder. four shots were returned to the squad, downing more men, the rest went wide. With a flap, and thrust of a force push, dust and debris rose in a cloud between Mahir and the squad, as he lifted off once more.
This time he backed up as the squads remaining men shot wildly into the dust, he waited quietly, reaching with the force to the fallen men. A moment later several training grenades went off, finishing the squad. And Mahir grinned in exultation for a moment, then whirled in surprise as three members of his own squad sent stun blasts his way. He was able to absorb some of it, but the second wave, which followed quickly, downed him. Stun blasts, firing in a cone, were impossible to deflect, and universally effective to some degree or another. His squad members spent a few minutes explaining the finer points dealing with a sith. Surprise was best, area of effect was a close second, and if all else failed overwhelming numbers would eventually do the trick.
A groggy and rather grumpy Mahir, stirred and sat up, muttering a string of slurred curses in at least eight languages, as the troops prepared for the next round of sparring matches. After a short moment, Mahir stood up, sill grumpy but otherwise no worse for wear. He wandered over to a table where basic refreshments were laid out or the troops and ate a small meals worth of food to help replace the energy spent in the mock combat. Mahir looked back to the training field and saw his squad working on a simple shooting drill. He really needed to find a weapon-smith to fix his charric. It had gotten a bit of beating in a partial building collapse and hadn't worked since. Mahir really missed it's punch, but didn't gripe about it aloud. He closed his eyes and spent a moment clearing away the last remnants of the stun blasts with the help of Ashla's cleansing light. It was then He realized that Lord Malvern was there on the field. The towering, 2.4 meters tall, Stenax looked towards his new Lord, curious to see what had caught the keen and alert eyes of Lord Malvern today.
