Alkor Centaris
Son of Liberty
The world through a mechanized simulacra was entirely different from force-augmented reality.
Alkor had learned early on that his senses were far more acute than those of many Force Adepts, and he had honed them to a point where he could pinpoint things from afar, feel the slightest of changes in atmosphere, and even understand when danger was about to strike. The HUD of a Mandalorian Buy'ce was almost the same thing, but for people without that inborn talent. While it came almost naturally to someone who spent their lifetime with armor and weaponry, Alkor had never needed to rely on metal to protect his flesh. The talent it took to master lightsaber combat also afforded a duelist a certain je ne sais quois when it came to saving their own ass. It stretched their speed to surreal levels, and allowed them to bend reality to dissuade even blaster bolts from connection.
To be Mando'ade, children of the Mandalorian culture as Zef explained it, a man needed to rely on skills outside of that. He needed to understand the limits of his own body, and how to properly utilize them in tandem with different tools, armor, and weapons to not outclass an enemy in magick, but to out-think them. Alkor begrudgingly accepted the notion that what he knew was not what was commonly accepted, and decided that to become one of the Crusaders in truth, he would need to integrate with their conceptualization of what combat, and in essence what war actually were. That meant to unlearn the way of the Dark Jedi to a degree, and to channel the path of the warrior.
He already possessed a level of skill without the Force to aid him, but Alkor was woefully untalented with ranged weaponry, and well...
"This thing is kriffing hot," he muttered over the comm, his mechanical voice skewed by the vocal unit. "And I can't see a damn thing beyond a click out." He held the carbine at chest level with the muzzle pointed downward, and his T-visor skimmed across the horizon thoughtfully. "How do you people manage with this layout? I can't even sense the wind changing directions."
"You're not supposed to sense anything, Alk'ika," one of the Crusaders laughed, "the HUD can tell you little things like that. You can give commands verbally, and there are a few facial recognition features you can use to give commands with blinks, retinal movement, or twitches."
"Sounds incredibly redundant," the Jen'jidai groaned. He wore a heavier set of 'gam that [member="Zef Halo"] decided would be useful for teaching him the benefits and drawbacks of armor. It was great in that it provided a level of defense that would offset his reduced speed, but it also caused his musculature to ache which was a new sensation for the Corellian exile. "Doesn't it get confused with little things like that?"
"It's only as dumb as the person giving the commands," another of the Mandalorians snorted. "They tell us you Forcie types are so damn special with your magic and the picking things up with your mind chit, but you can't even figure out a basic HUD." The two shared a guffaw before Centaris stopped and turned his helmeted gaze on them.
"I might not be able to use the Force," he reminded them, "but these carbines are supposed to be geared for punching through armor at range. You're not even five feet from me. I can manage to hit you from here."
"Easy, bur'cya," the first Crusader waved his hands in a warding gesture, "easy. We were kidding around. No need to get so pissed off."
Alkor turned around and started trying to make heads or tails of the Heads Up Display. He started to understand that it relayed a fluid readout of what existed in its realm of vision, and this version only took in a finite amount of data at a time. More Advanced HUDs like the top brass employed had a live stream feed from the HoloNet, full 360 degree range of vision options, scanners that could...
He sighed audibly.
"I respect the difficulty," he called over the comm to Zef, "but I want to go back to just cloak and saber now."
Alkor had learned early on that his senses were far more acute than those of many Force Adepts, and he had honed them to a point where he could pinpoint things from afar, feel the slightest of changes in atmosphere, and even understand when danger was about to strike. The HUD of a Mandalorian Buy'ce was almost the same thing, but for people without that inborn talent. While it came almost naturally to someone who spent their lifetime with armor and weaponry, Alkor had never needed to rely on metal to protect his flesh. The talent it took to master lightsaber combat also afforded a duelist a certain je ne sais quois when it came to saving their own ass. It stretched their speed to surreal levels, and allowed them to bend reality to dissuade even blaster bolts from connection.
To be Mando'ade, children of the Mandalorian culture as Zef explained it, a man needed to rely on skills outside of that. He needed to understand the limits of his own body, and how to properly utilize them in tandem with different tools, armor, and weapons to not outclass an enemy in magick, but to out-think them. Alkor begrudgingly accepted the notion that what he knew was not what was commonly accepted, and decided that to become one of the Crusaders in truth, he would need to integrate with their conceptualization of what combat, and in essence what war actually were. That meant to unlearn the way of the Dark Jedi to a degree, and to channel the path of the warrior.
He already possessed a level of skill without the Force to aid him, but Alkor was woefully untalented with ranged weaponry, and well...
"This thing is kriffing hot," he muttered over the comm, his mechanical voice skewed by the vocal unit. "And I can't see a damn thing beyond a click out." He held the carbine at chest level with the muzzle pointed downward, and his T-visor skimmed across the horizon thoughtfully. "How do you people manage with this layout? I can't even sense the wind changing directions."
"You're not supposed to sense anything, Alk'ika," one of the Crusaders laughed, "the HUD can tell you little things like that. You can give commands verbally, and there are a few facial recognition features you can use to give commands with blinks, retinal movement, or twitches."
"Sounds incredibly redundant," the Jen'jidai groaned. He wore a heavier set of 'gam that [member="Zef Halo"] decided would be useful for teaching him the benefits and drawbacks of armor. It was great in that it provided a level of defense that would offset his reduced speed, but it also caused his musculature to ache which was a new sensation for the Corellian exile. "Doesn't it get confused with little things like that?"
"It's only as dumb as the person giving the commands," another of the Mandalorians snorted. "They tell us you Forcie types are so damn special with your magic and the picking things up with your mind chit, but you can't even figure out a basic HUD." The two shared a guffaw before Centaris stopped and turned his helmeted gaze on them.
"I might not be able to use the Force," he reminded them, "but these carbines are supposed to be geared for punching through armor at range. You're not even five feet from me. I can manage to hit you from here."
"Easy, bur'cya," the first Crusader waved his hands in a warding gesture, "easy. We were kidding around. No need to get so pissed off."
Alkor turned around and started trying to make heads or tails of the Heads Up Display. He started to understand that it relayed a fluid readout of what existed in its realm of vision, and this version only took in a finite amount of data at a time. More Advanced HUDs like the top brass employed had a live stream feed from the HoloNet, full 360 degree range of vision options, scanners that could...
He sighed audibly.
"I respect the difficulty," he called over the comm to Zef, "but I want to go back to just cloak and saber now."