THE ARKANIAN'S SOFA
"Alor Carduul. You ever play shockball as a young pup? Boxing? Any o' that?"
The Arkanian stood in the middle of the room with a bottle of alcohol in one hand and the other insistently tapping the side of his head, as if he had some sort of caged genius up there waiting to explode.
"I did. Coach made me watch footage of our rivals. Hours of it. Then when I did Purge training, you know what we watched? Hours of Jedi. Jedi tactics. Jedi forms. Anything we got our hands on. Now? Now I guess it's just old habit. If you got an enemy, you got to know how they play the game."
One of the Hound commandos sat sprawled on the couch and snorted, "Game."
"Game. Fight. It's all the same, innit? Well I spent some time, I did. Collecting all the helmet footage from Humbarine. Figuring out who was who. And wouldn't you know it? I got some footage for us to watch," he looked around the room excitedly. "Four whole hours of it."
The Hounds groaned.
"Quiet! Quiet! Eat your corn and drink. And watch. Just stangin' watch. You might learn something."
The footage started playing. A fight high up in the limbs of a Wroshyr tree, which stood in the middle of a gigantic arena. The footage stopped, pausing on a figure.
"Recognize anybody?"
"Holy kriff, isn't that that Sith empress?" said one of the Hounds
"Which one?" asked another.
"The big one, you idiot."
The Arkanian nodded "Ohhhh yes. That's her alright. In a big old galactic death match. Watch how this guy holds his own against her. Doesn't even have the Force, does he? We study this. We study all the other fights. We figure out what worked and what didn't. And then we assume she's already covered her weaknesses and plan for the worst."
The Hounds started nodding.
"And then we go onto the next footage. I've got about ten different Sith heavy hitters here. And we're going to study every single one of them. So when we hunt them down, you'll be ready," the Arkanian chuckled darkly, "Oh. You'll be ready."
