You Keep What You Kill

[Arage Bao]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]People keep surprising me.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]It was a surprise when the Corellian Engineering Corporation decided to share their new mighty warships with the Republic - a surprise more so to me than the rest of the Galaxy, mostly because I didn’t truly believe in giving your allies too much of an edge. They showed their real faces during the Rapture when they quickly planet grabbed their way through old Protectorate planets, but it was too late by then and I don’t even know if Cater would have done anything against it anyway.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]That ain’t the point though.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]What the point [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6666666666667px]was[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6666666666667px], was that the Republic had never used the ships that the Protectorate had granted them so long ago. Nobody knew why they disregarded them, why they simply kept them locked up tight in dry docks while their main fleets were getting hammered by the Sith, it was a mystery.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]Wasn’t strange that some entities decided to take advantage of it though, they were currently in hyperspace heading towards the established coordinates.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]Wouldn’t be too long, before we would arrive.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px][member="Condor"] | [member="Bellatrix Celvina"] | [member="Kuryr"] | [member="Artemis Exor"] | [member="Token Waters"] | [member="Taeli Raaf"][/SIZE]​

 

[Brooke Waters]

Token was trying to find her way in the galaxy, her place here. That was why she joined up on this little adventure. She had her songsteel armor with her and would be using her mask once push came to shove, but right then? She was sitting in the galley of the ship, reading. She liked to read, and she liked to listen to a lot of music. Purple over-the-ear headphones on, and her datapad up, she was not really dressed for much of anything aside from lounging around. She figured when they arrived, she’d only need like 10 minutes to get into her armor, maybe a whole fifteen.

It wasn’t like she needed to do her hair, or makeup. Though with her long hair, the helmet was sometimes problematic.

She knew that this wasn’t really her cup of tea, but the girl was a support person, she knew she could at least be some help. And she wanted to pull her weight with the Primeval, maybe they’d notice and she could be told she could learn the really big skills in the Force.

Maybe.

Was that selfish?

It didn’t matter. She was reading her favorite holonovel right now. About a man, two guns and the need to save all of everything. This was her very most favorite story.

And she might’ve been listening to a song called ‘Velcro Fly’ but that didn’t matter.

ZZ Top rocked.

 

[Mard Szaks]

He liked this. Responsibility had always been somewhat of a bane for Mard, and this was the kind of mission that had very little of it. He just had to care about himself, and the people directly around. Nobody under his command, everyone with mostly just themselves to blame if something went wrong. Even so, he wasn't getting careless by any stretch of the imagination. Preparation was key to success, and that was exactly what he was doing. Dressed just in a tank-top and the camouflage trousers he would be wearing underneath the armour, he had found himself a quiet place and was double-checking all of his gear. The actions had become almost automatic by now, even with the few pieces he wasn't as familiar with as the rest.

He should really get some heavier armour soon, it wasn't like he couldn't wear it. And he liked being fully encased in protection.

After he was done, a quite familiar feeling started setting in. A feeling he had been waiting on for a while now. A certain drowsiness came over him, like it always did before a mission. He yawned. How long was it before they arrived? Probably still enough time for a nap, yes? They would wake him when it was go time.

He slid down a little in the chair, crossed his arms in front of his chest, and let his head sink onto the top of the backrest. Soon, a quite deep snoring started emanating from his slightly open mouth.

 

[Condor]

Condor had done a lot of odd jobs as a mercenary, but none like this. He might have worked for some of the worst people in the galaxy, but he had always stayed on the good side of the law as much as possible. Stealing ships wasn't exactly his forte. Recon, stealth missions, tactical support. That was what he liked. He worked well with military operations, in a tight group of four or five, so this part wouldn't be too unfamiliar. He wasn't a leader by any means, but he tended to interpret orders, well, liberally. He was more concerned with staying alive than earning a few credits.

He flexed his back muscles tightly, missing the weight of the wings on his jetpack. There was no air in space, so he couldn't exactly glide. He would only have about a minute of fuel, maybe ninety seconds if he used it well. After that, he was grounded. If he encountered anyone on the ground, he would be in big trouble. He didn't have any real armor, trying to minimize his weight. For the same reason, he could only carry one weapon with him at a time, aside from a small pistol in a shoulder holster. His weapon of choice for this mission was a heavy blaster rifle. Stopping power, high capacity, good for brute force. For precision, he had his pistol.

He didn't know much about any of the people he'd be working with, and he didn't mind in the slightest. Having friends in this business didn't help a whole lot, especially when you find yourself having to kill them. Connections were always appreciated, however, and "knowing a friend" could sometimes be a life saver. If he had the time, he would strike up a conversation. That would have to come after the heist, of course. For now, all he could do was put is feet up and wait.

Spoiler

[member="Mard Szaks"]|[member="Token Waters"]|[member="Caden Cadell"]

 

[Armand Temi]

Nursing a hangover from the White Palace Hutt Party on Klatooine, Bellatrix sat quietly near to [member="Kuryr"], a Whistler modified Carbine in her hands. Chukka had taken her down to the shooting range to make sure she could wield a rifle, pistol, whip, axe, throwing knife… pretty much any other type of melee weapon. If anything, the Cathar was thorough in her training.

The Whister Carbine rifle was an especially dangerous weapon because its bullets were specifically tipped with acid and the gun fired these rounds at an extreme velocity. Not too many variations of armor could withstand a long-range attack from a Whistler Carbine. A short range attack was certain death.

Suddenly, she heard a thundering noise and glanced around the interior of the ship, hoping that they hadn’t come out of hyperspace and into an asteroid field by accident. But it slowly dawned on the half-Chiss slave that the roaring was coming from the large man, [member="Mard Szaks"] sleeping in one of the chairs on the bridge.

The other passenger of note was a blonde girl who she only assumed was a slave like herself. Bellatrix wondered which of the other men [member="Condor"] or [member="Caden Cadell"], owned the pretty minx [member="Token Waters"] who lazily read a novel.

 

[Travot Ravenna]

VCX-350 Freighter Plainswalker, somewhere in hyperspace

"What a mess," said the large man, shaking his head.

"Oh, it's not that bad," said Khys 231, his Makashi instructor.

Travot surveyed the hold of his freighter, eying the various duraplast crates that now lay littered haphazardly across the hold. Dried Nerf fillets, random leather, and packing foam leaked out from several of their unlatched lids. His eyes briefly darted to the black webbing that had held them secure only moments before now lay tenuously hung from only a single hook on the ceiling. The smell of burnt ozone permeated throughout the air, and even now faint wisps of vapors rose up from where his lightsaber had severed the cordage. The khomm let a smile cross across his face.

"Thankfully, no-one is here to see it," said the jedi knight, "but you always have to be mindful of your surroundings. It is true with Soresu, and just as much true in Makashi, even if the emphasis is different. Again. We should have time for at least one more bout before we arrive insystem. At the very least, they can wait for your debriefing from the battle of Ord Mirit."

Travot nodded as he raised his saber to the en garde stance once more...

[member="Caden Cadell"] | [member="Token Waters"] | [member="Mard Szaks"] [member="Condor"] | [member="Bellatrix Celvina"]

 

[Kuryr]

Kuryr tried to ignore the other people inside the ship. He hadn't like the idea of traveling without the Blood Pact, but this was a more stealth mission, and his pirates didn't do stealth very well. He glanced around the ship at the various beings gathered for the mission and he frowned. It was an interesting group, one he hoped would be able to hold it's weight when the time came.

He noticed the blonde again, not for the first time he appraised her value in terms of slave market price. She was pretty and her blonde hair would sell well on the market. Human slaves always sold well... other species loved to have human slaves, if only to remind the galaxy that humans aren't the dominant species. He smiled as he saw [member="Bellatrix Celvina"] clutching the rifle he had given her, she had turned out to be a natural with a gun in her hands and the training she received from Chuka had turned her into quite the pretty little killing machine. His own pistol rode on his hip, along with his electrowhip, his sword rested against the the armor plated of his back, out of the way until needed. He was hoping to need it this day, there was something gratifying about killing with it, proving that you were a superior being, not in eyesight or aim, but in physical combat. He loved the aftermath of a good fight, blood soaking into his armor, gore covering the ground, making it impossible to walk without slipping. Complaining about the aftermath was how he always knew he had survived, for the dead had no complaints.

He planned on complaining a lot after this fight.


[member="Caden Cadell"] | [member="Token Waters"] | [member="Mard Szaks"] | [member="Condor"] | [member="Travot Ravenna"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px][member="Token Waters"] | [member="Mard Szaks"] | [member="Condor"] | [member="Bellatrix Celvina"] | [member="Kuryr"] | [member="Travot Ravenna"][/SIZE]​

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]We had a varied crew on this mission. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]Booty Call, Grizzly Bear, Commando, Possible Booty Call and… weird… bloody… pirate… thing? I wasn’t entirely too sure what Kuryr was supposed to be, but they had told me that he was one of the best warriors that had ever graced this Galaxy and considering his rep as a Pirate King? Probably wasn’t a joke either.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]“Alright folk.” the rumble would come finally. “Ya know the deal, we are hitting the site in ‘bout ten minutes, we will be jumping in far outside their sensory arrays and cloak before going in.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]Basic plan.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]“Then we sneak in, use the equipment we have been provided to enter the ship and take it over.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]They all had their briefings before hand, they all knew what they were gonna be doing. This was just a simple refresh course.[/SIZE]

 

[Brooke Waters]

Booty call? That was all she was?

Well, it made sense. Really, unlike others in the Primeval she was only sometimes a slave. Y'know, when there was a collar involved and probably some rope. But she had a real life. Stuff to do on Bastion, casinos to run, so it wasn't the 24/7 life style for the blonde. And wait, they needed to start listening now? She rolled her eyes, putting her book away. Meant time to change, songsteel armor, say what?

After getting changed, she made her way to the meeting with [member="Caden Cadell"] and nodded. Right, take over the ship. She bit her lip, running a hand through her hair. She wasn't sure what her task was going to be here. "Do we all have tasks, do we have a pilot? Or are we winging it?" Sometimes that was fine.

She studied a little at the LAA. She could fly, if they needed it, but she'd also like to make sure people didn't get unnecessarily murdered.

Even if dead was dead.

[member="Kuryr"]
[member="Travot Ravenna"]
[member="Bellatrix Celvina"]
[member="Condor"]
[member="Mard Szaks"]

 

[Aleksandyr Gaillard]

Asemir stood behind [member="Kuryr"], hiding herself in the angular shadows of the starship wall. Two emerald eyes pointed towards the ground, staring at the steel-plated toes of her boots and her mind doing its best to ignore the constant aching sensation in her worn, tired muscles. Ever since she was taken from her world and then claimed off Korriban she had been put to the ask of labouring for the dreadful Taung pirate, a bizarre master to be sure and one who did not permit missteps from any of his slaves.

Slavery.

The term was difficult for her mind to wrap around... She understand that she was essentially, in his eyes, property. Yet it was not something she could grasp or comprehend, she was still Asemir, and not once in her life had she ever been owned by someone; the very concept was unacceptable. Surely her life was not perfect, in fact it had been rather awful being a street urchin and relying on thievery and violence to survive as a child. It was difficult to build trust when your friends could sell you out just to put food into their stomachs.

Listening to the man talk, her empty eyes wandered from the floor and up to his face. For a brief moment she found herself realizing she was behind Kuryr and he had his back to her.

If only.

No; it wasn't time.

[member="Bellatrix Celvina"] | [member="Condor"] | [member="Mard Szaks"] | [member="Token Waters"] | [member="Caden Cadell"]

 

[Mard Szaks]

"...cloak before going in.”

The snoring stopped. Mard was, contrary to expectations, a relatively light sleeper - having learned to fall asleep and wake up in the blink of an eye during the conflicts of his early life paid off in his later career. Now, he was fully awake, and aware. Aware that he had missed a bit of the briefing, and aware that they were just repeating what had been said before. He didn't open his eyes yet, though, trying to capitalise on those last few moments before the action began.

As soon as [member="Caden Cadell"] was finished, Mard straightened in his seat and opened his eyes. Time to get geared up. All his things were laid out on the table in front of him, perfectly in order: armour, rifle, vibroblade, sidearm, some frag grenades and a stun blaster - maybe they'd come across someone important? Should be enough, although he hoped the armour he'd commissioned would be ready when he came back from this. If. Always a chance. He shrugged. If Balagoth wanted him, he wouldn't fret - after all, how exciting would it be to start anew?

After putting all his gear in the appropriate places, he quickly double-checked to see if his reverie chain was still in the breast pocket of the shirt he had on under the armour. It was. Good. Prayers had been given, preparations completed, he had slept enough. Now there was only one thing left to do, and that was to wait.

[member="Token Waters"] | [member="Artemis Exor"] | [member="Condor"] | [member="Bellatrix Celvina"] | [member="Kuryr"] | [member="Travot Ravenna"]

 

[Armand Temi]

Possible Booty Call?!?

If Token was worried about being a straight-up Booty Call, at least she hadn't been referred to as a Possible Booty Call!

If anything Bellatrix happened to be an excellent Booty Call, thank you very much, but there would be only one way for the mercenary to find that out.

In any case, this crew was much better than the normal Blood Pact she traveled with who were regularly bossing her around, and in the case of the Rodians, being a little too hands-on. Those sucker tipped fingers were always an unpleasant surprise on her blue skin… she shivered just thinking about it.

There was another human slave on the ship, in addition to the petite and pretty blonde. Bellatrix felt like she had an advantage over both of them in the pecking order since she had been in Kuryr’s crew the longest. But at the same time, she wasn’t as wicked as Chukka, and she approached Artemis tentatively. The girl had a peculiar glint in her eyes, but she chalked it up to nerves or discomfort.

“Don’t worry,” she said to the dark haired human. “Stick with me and you’ll be fine.”'

The half-Chiss wasn’t worried about the assignment. She had just enough Slick running through her veins to take the nervous edge off. Compared to the long nights dancing at Club Tranquility and her rough indoctrination to the Blood Pact, this mission felt like a vacation so far.

[member="Token Waters"] [member="Artemis Exor"] [member="Condor"] [member="Mard Szaks"] [member="Kuryr"] [member="Travot Ravenna"]

 

[Condor]

Only 10 minutes? Condor muttered under his breath, "A little warning might have been nice." He didn't need a whole lot of time to get ready for the job. He had two guns to worry about, and since he wasn't the leader of their little heist, then he wasn't responsible for the lives of the others. That took a lot of weight off of his shoulders. If anything started going south, he could cheese it without worrying about anyone else.

Despite his entire line of work being based on his ability to "fly," Condor didn't actually know how to fly a starship. Its awfully hard to do drops when you're the one flying. He knew a couple buddies that could always be counted on to drive the ships for drops, and that was good enough for him. Of course, there wouldn't be any dropping on this mission. Just a straight up melee to take the ship and then getting out before anyone noticed it was. Simple stuff, and it looked like they had more than enough people to do the job. It would be wise for him to stick with [member="Mard Szaks"], the largest of the group members. He knew the giant man would be heavily armored and work as a sort of "human shield" for the unarmored Condor. Between the two of them, they averaged out to being a normally proportioned soldier.

The rest of the crew didn't really concern Condor that much. Slaves, pirates, other mercs, it was an interesting crew, but it sounded like they had enough diversified talent to be able to tackle anything the mission threw at them. He was just going along for the ride, earning a few credits and letting the others do the heavy lifting.

Spoiler

[member="Bellatrix Celvina"]|[member="Artemis Exor"]|[member="Token Waters"]|[member="Caden Cadell"]|[member="Kuryr"]|[member="Travot Ravenna"]

 

[Gir Quee]

Champion-class Star Destroyer Obi-Wan Kenobi, in orbit via Lantillies

Admiral Quee strolled off of the bridge walkway and through the foyer doors. He quickly glanced at his wrist chrono. I should have fifteen minutes to spare before Captain Bari arrives...But several doors and turns later, the man found the woman standing in front of the door to his quarters. He warily eyed her crossed arms, and exchanged glances at the helmeted marines who flanked either side of his doorway. The blonde man cleared his throat.

“Captain Bari...you're early,” observed the man.

She managed a tight-lipped smile which could have easily been confused with a grimace, “A word with you, sir?”

“Of course. Shall we go into my quarters?”

She stepped out of the doorway, allowing Gir to access the door controls with his code cylinder. The blast doors whirled open, and the admiral gestured for the brunette to enter after him. She slapped a button as she crossed through the room's threshhold: the blast doors quickly slammed shut behind her.

“What are you doing to my command?”

“You already know that the Warspite will be undergoing some testing with its reactors,” said the admiral, “the crew will be needed elsewhere. There are other places they could be of more use. As I understand it, you would be giving me an update on their transfer status today.”

“And I do,” said the woman, “I meant that more rhetorically, sir. I know that my crew was going to be downsized, but FleetCom is drawing more people than we initially talked about.”

“I approved it,” admitted the admiral, “it seemed a better use of resources to me after they presented their analysis. It's hard enough to justify stationing more than several hundred crewmembers above a skeleton crew on the ship when it's going to be sitting around in orbit as a research project.”

“My Noble-class Star Defender is a valuable prize, I should at least have a full marine detachment put on it for security precautions.”

“Back-up is several hundred meters away from you,” reminded the admiral, “the rest of the fleet can easily dispatch shuttles full of troops or additional crewmembers to reinforce your crew if the situation dictates it. You're the gatekeeper right now. The researchers looking into gaining a better understanding of the Valen technology need only that right now. When the new Liberty-class is unveiled, you'll understand just how important it was to keep everything the way it is now...but now Captain, the Warspite will remain in orbit as it currently is. Understood?”

Her reply came back muted, "Yes sir."

Spoiler

[member="Condor"] | [member="Bellatrix Celvina"] | [member="Mard Szaks"] | [member="Artemis Exor"] | [member="Token Waters"] | [member="Caden Cadell"] | [member="Kuryr"]

 

[Valkren Calderon]

'So, this is what it's like to be deployed..It's cozy, spending so much time either in my armor or in my bunk is nice. Is this what dad was payed to do all day; sit aboard a big ship on a cushy chair, and watch as marines are deployed into combat and die for the Republic whenever he orders so? Hmph..Hey, the pay was good, right?'

Sergeant Valkren Calderon stood in the armory aboard the Warspite, his armor thudded together at the joints as he shifted his weight idly to his right leg, both of his gloved hands pressed against the table infront of him. On said table was all of his gear. There would sit his helmet, rifle, thermal detonators, data pad, and his Z-6 Rotary cannon. On the trooper's hip also rested several extra power packs and his own side arm.

Valkren pushed himself away from the table and turned around, taking a walk outside of the armory into the nearest corridor. As the blast doors automatically clamped shut behind him, a pair of security officers would trot by him at a steady pace. The sergeant lifted a hand up above his brow in a saluting motion, "Gentlemen." Valk would say it in a overzealous and sarcastic manner, expecting a reaction from the two. Unfortunately for the sergeant, there was no response; the security team kept moving along. He frowned for a moment, shrugging his shoulders and turning back around toward the armory, "At ease, troopers.."

The slicer made his way back into the armory and over to his base of operations with the rest of his gear. He'd move over to one of the walls, grasping the bench that rested next to it. The soldier dragged the bench over to the table and took a relaxing seat. Valkren would admire over his weaponry once more, a smirk tugging at his lips.

 

[Travot Ravenna]

Travot strolled onto the deck of the Warspite in its relatively miniscule hangar bay. He had expected to see a large congregation of soldiers and pilots bustling in and out of the ship from shore leave or to the other Republic ships in the area, but it was relatively empty. He could only see a handful of mechanics working with a pair of astromech droids fixing the stabilizer of a Lambda-class shuttle knockoff. This doesn't seem right. He closed his eyes and briefly immersed himself into the Force, reaching through it to feel the life forces of those around him. For such a large ship, it seemed immediately understaffed. He knew that some ships relied heavily on automation, but he didn't feel that the Noble was one of them. It piqued his interest. And Kys 231 had to take a nap right now...

"Ah, master jedi, there you are," droned a gold-plated droid hobbling towards him, "I have been searching the whole hangar for you."

Travot blinked. But it's such a small hangar...you know what...protocol droid...it doesn't have to make common sense...He eyed the droid intently.

"Yes, well...I just arrived," said Travot, "I am here for a debriefing with several of the soldiers..."

"Oh no sir. You are Travot Ravenna. Am I correct sir?"

"Well...I am..."

"You are here to brief some of the newer soldiers about the threats you faced at Ord Mirit. The types of troops and vehicles you've encountered...information on the Primeveal Forces has been next to non-existent, and the troops are eager to learn about them immediately. I am to take you to Sergeant [member="Valkren Calderon"] right away."

With that, the droid led the man to the sergeant and his men.

Spoiler

[member="Condor"] | [member="Bellatrix Celvina"] | [member="Mard Szaks"] | [member="Artemis Exor"] | [member="Token Waters"] | [member="Caden Cadell"] | [member="Kuryr"]

 

[Valkren Calderon]

"Sunova'-" These words were followed by a loud 'thud' as an armored marine fell straight onto his back on the armory floor. Standing over the marine was Valkren, an evil grin across his face from ear to ear. Three other marines stood around the armory, watching the scene for the entertainment factor. That's all it was, entertainment. Valk usually tried to not get into real, hatred-filled fights with his men and fellow troopers, but he just had to throw down this time around. Michaels, the marine on the ground, was an engineer that had worked with Calderon on several occasions, never in a combat scenario though. The engineer had tried to compare his combat skills to that of the Sergeant, which was a mistake because Valkren loves a good competition.

"Finished, Corporal?" Valkren asked as he offered a hand down to the marine. "Not just yet," The defenseless man said as he took Valkren's hand, lifting up both of his boots and planting them into the Sergeant's chest at the same time. Just as Calderon realized what he was doing, he had already been pulled over and flipped onto his own back behind Michaels. The Sergeant just blinked a few times, registering what had just happened. He was now looking up at Michaels, before he pushed himself to his feet. "Fair enough."

Following several cheers and jeers from the other three marines, Valkren now had his fellow teammate in a headlock, throwing him about in a playful manner. They were all so distracted that the only people to see the Jedi coming in were the other three marines that went completely silent. As for Valkren and Michaels, they didn't even recognize that [member="Travot Ravenna"] entered the armory.

 

[Travot Ravenna]

"Oh my..." gasped the protocol droid, jerking its arms upward.

A wry grin creased the large man's face as he watched the two soldiers tumble around on the deck. Travot himself enjoyed a good scrap, but he wasn't much of a wrestler, preferring to train in the hard strikes of Broken Gate. Still, he could appreciate their form and quietly observed it for several moments, drinking in the kinesiology of their movements. I'll have to try that out on Kys 231 if I have the chance. The susevfian native strode forward and cleared his throat.

"Hi, I'm the jedi who is apparently going to be giving you a briefing about some of more recent enemies that we've encountered on the front...though I'll admit, grappling does sound a bit more exhilarating at the moment after being stuck on a starship for so long...but then again, you boys have probably been here for a bit too, am I right?"

[member="Valkren Calderon"]

 

[Valkren Calderon]

The two wrestling marines suddenly stood to attention, Valkren releasing his grip on Michaels as the droid and Jedi walked in. Michaels was the first to speak up out of the small squad of marines, "Master Jedi..We didn't expect you would be the one briefing us, sir." The sergeant cocked a brow, looking to his friend with a puzzled look.

Valkren shifted his glance back over to the pair that entered just moments ago, smirking at the Jedi's statement. "Sergeant Valkren Calderon, these fellas' with the shiny armor are my men." After this statement the other four marines snapped off rookie-like salutes. They seemed tense, uneasy now being around a Jedi. Valkren folded his arms across his chest piece, that same smirk sitting on his face. "We've been here for abit, waiting on you I suppose..But if you wanted to throw down before the briefing, then I'd be rude to not let you experience what it's like to fight a true Republic warrior." Valkren threw this as a jeer to the Jedi, expecting to see some sort of reaction. The Sergeant really wanted to see what exactly he was working with. The marines of his squad looked to him in disbelief.

"Did you just challenge a Jedi?" A lone whisper came from one of the marines behind him, Valkren didn't answer him. "Unless you want to get right down to business, Master Jedi." Valkren put both of his hands together in a praying manner, giving a sarcastic bow. Calderon knew they had a mission ahead of them, and that he had to do his best to prepare his squad for whatever objective they were given..But that didn't mean he couldn't have a bit of fun.

[member="Travot Ravenna"]

 

[Travot Ravenna]

Travot eyed [member="Valkren Calderon"] curiously. He had met few soldiers who had wanted to tangle with a force-user of any kind, especially without the use of some specialized technology. Yet he found it refreshing to see someone who didn't see the Jedi instantly as legendary heroes, but as mere men much like the rest of the galaxy's denizens. He spared a glance at the droid.

"Do we have a firm time-table C-5PO?"

"Well...umm..."

"I will take that as a no," said the jedi, removing his utility belt along with its dangling lightsaber, "I'll take you up on your offer sergeant."

He gently tossed it onto the metal deck, letting his lightsaber clatter onto the ground. You never should let an opportunity to train go away from you...that's what Master Wurth used to say...and you can always learn something from everyone...He eyed his sparring partner up and down. It was somewhat difficult for Travot to figure out the man's build with his clothing. Not that Travot was one to really speak with his baggy clothes: underneath his roughspun tunic lay a Tuff1 jumpsuit. He had been banged up around enough times that even as a jedi, he enjoyed wearing some padding on his extremeties. Travot's own knowledge of wrestling and grappling arts was somewhat limited. He had taken a few lessons in Dulon, a martial art that focused on using grappling and throwing to use an opponent's energy and momentum against him, but he was far from experienced in it.

How did that go again?

He turned his feet to form a "T"-stance, with his right foot pointing directly at the Republic soldier while his left foot trailed behind it, almost laying perpendicular to his first foot. He brought both his of hands up not too unlike the classic boxing pose, but spaced slightly farther apart and held more loosely. This wasn't a form of pure strength, but of flexibility and thinking. Gingerly, the padawan slowly advanced on the soldier, his eyes looking for a place to grab the soldier.