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Thread: The New Guy

  1. #1

    Imperial - Open The New Guy

    Halajiin Rabeak closed his eyes, and in doing so, he went back in time. Back over a century, to an age where the Galactic Senate met in their countless meetings, and the Jedi stood as powerful, respected protectors of good. He lay in his bed, waiting for the subtle hum of his alarm clock before it would squeak into life in all its cacophonic glory, while he could hear the endless parades of ships flying outside his window.

    For eight years, the Nehantite had fallen asleep to the sound of Coruscant traffic, and woke up to it just the same, lying in his regulation bed in a mostly Spartan apartment. At first, the noise had kept him up at night, but in time it became part of him; a calming presence and a comfort of home.

    Home. It was funny to think of it in such a way. For well over a year of his own life, Hal had not stepped foot on Coruscant, but in his year, over one hundred and eight had passed for the rest of the galaxy. Engine notes changed, transparisteel windows had been re-glazed, but still, lying in his bed in the minutes before dawn, Hal could hear what he had woken to so many times, and he did not wish to open his eyes and shatter his time-travel illusuion.

    But it was only an illusion, he told himself, much like the persona he had invented to hide himself from the Imperial Knights, and save his own pelt. On Phindar, Halajiin Rebeak, knight of the Jedi Order, had ceased to be, and in his place appeared Kyle Rayner, a partially trained Force adept with naïve understanding of the power he wielded. So, when he opened his eyes once more, Halajiin Rabeak vanished, and Kyle Rayner awoke. And sighed before reaching a paw down into his boxers for a good scratch for the cameras he was sure were in his room, acting as if he truly believed he had privacy.

    Itch handled, the yellow-furred mongoose then contorted his back with a stretch, kicking his covers off of where they barely covered his lower legs, and he swung his footpaws out of bed and onto the floor, sitting with his back hunched forward, pink eyes squinting at the faint glimmer of purple which threatened the dark horizon over the glittering glare of the planetary mega-city. Dawn was coming, and with it a new day, and new challenges. To meet them with lazy slump would not do, and so Hal stood, getting a good stretch before wriggling his tail to wake it up, as well, and he paced to his small room’s window.

    Like his living quarters of old, the window ran floor to ceiling, but he could not help but notice he had been stationed on a higher floor, looking out directly east instead of northeast, as he had been, so long ago. Clad in his boxers, Hal stood there, arms slack at his side, and he watched the purple horizon burn to copper, then orange before at last the first, brilliant rays of the sun screamed over the cityscape to blast into his room, warming through his fur in the most heavenly of ways. When his eyes ached from the brightness, Hal closed them but continued to stand there, still, letting memories flood through him – as well as thoughts of his new persona. When he’d had enough, it was off to his refresher to take a leak, have a quick wank, then take a sonic shower before getting dressed to face the day.

    Gone were the clothes he had been captured in, likely never to be seen again, other than his boots, and in their place he had been given plain black fatigues, thankfully tailored to accommodate his tail. Aside from them, the only other thing Hal sported was a thick armband which acted as both tracking device and incapacitator, should he try and make a break for it. Kyle Rayner had given his word that he would not run, and the word of Kyle Rayner was worth its weight in gold. Sadly, Kyle Rayner himself was worth less than a three-credit bill, but the Imperials hadn’t quite figured that out, yet.

    After a long talk with Baastian Cain, the night before, Hal had been given more freedom than he had expected within the Imperial Complex, and so when he opened his door, he found only two men standing guard.

    “Morning,” Hal nodded, remaining on his side of the threshold. “Just going to go down and get breakfast, if that’s okay.”

    “We’ll escort you,” replied one of his guards.

    Hal smiled, trying to be disarming as possible, even going so far as to raise his empty paws in defense. “It’s cool, guys, I’m pretty sure I can make it to the cafeteria on my own. I always remember the way back to food.”

    The guards were having none of it, however, and soon Hal let his paws drop with a soft clap against his sides before stuffing them into his pockets, his chunky wristband catching on one of them. “Fine. Lead the way,” Hal shrugged.

    During his brief tour with Baastian, Hal had been allowed to be excited and curious, but as he could see that the safeties were off on the blasters of his two escorts, he came to the rapid determination that acting the fool would not be tolerated lightly, and so he resigned himself to full defeat, trudging along toward the lift.

    Down, down and down, Hal looked out the window the whole way, making sure his face showed the awe of a tourist to the city-planet. It was important that they believed his cover story, but still, it was a difficult expression to fake, as the cityscape had changed greatly since his time among the halls of the Jedi Order. Before he knew it, his view vanished into a duracrete wall, and the lift’s bell bong’ed lightly, signaling the end of his brief sightseeing.

    Garbed in regulation black, Hal did not attract the same manner of stares as he had, the night before, though he was clearly one of only a handful of aliens among the halls of Imperial Center. Despite his own rubbernecking at the layout of the structure, and a few unanswered questions, Hal was directed without delay to the cafeteria, where the previously appetizing smell of nerf stroganoff had been replaced by the distinctly noxious funk of meal cubes covered in “ham and eggs” sauce. The Nehantite’s ears drooped, knowing that to be one of the single worst sauces one could put over meal cubes, and even his stomach shrank as the mess was poured over his own tray. Hungry as he was, he could barely tolerate half his meal. He would be starving come lunch, but it was better than getting sick due to breakfast.

    “Finished?” one of his guards asked. Hal could only nod, and his tray was cleared, allowing him to take a deeper breath that would not sour his nostrils.

    Without argument, Hal allowed himself to be directed back to the main hallway, and to a kiosk where one of the guards swiped a badge, then pulled out a security cable from the kiosk’s surface, connecting it firmly to Hal’s wristband.

    “Wait here. Your escort will come and fetch you,” the guard gunted.

    Hal looked down at the cable with dismay, then back to the guard. “You mean, you’re just going to… leave me here?”

    “Would you prefer we shoot you?” the guard replied. “Even on stun, be a hell of a whollop from this close.”

    “No, no, I’m good!” Hal offered immediately, holding his paws up, his left one being pulled slightly down by the spring-loaded tension in the cable.

    “Good,” was the only answer he received. His guards turned to head off, leaving him alone among the crowd of Imperials who walked freely up and down the main corridor.

    All he could do was wait; wait and wonder who his escort would be. Would it be Baastian, again? Would it be someone else? Would it be that gorgeous Selonian who had clearly been putting the moves on him, now come to fetch him and whisk him off to her bedchambers? Hal adjusted his trousers while he waited and considered the possibilities.

  2. #2
    "Knight Iscandar."

    She turned, her lekku swaying slightly as she shifted her weight. The two armed sentries saluted and bowed; they were students in the Citadel's program for those who could not use the Force, but were nearing graduation, and were serving in various capacities to give them experience before being placed in general circulation. Their uniforms were distinguishable even in the bad rendering of the hologram. She nodded in return.

    "The prisoner, Rayner, has finished morning meal. Our orders were to contact you and send you to him."

    "Very well," she answered. "Return to your duties."

    The hologram blinked into nonexistence. She affixed the final buttons on her uniform jacket, and marched down to the mess hall.

    Rayner was standing just outside the hall, attached to one of the kiosks used as a punishment for various infractions of the Citadel's code of conduct. She stopped and regarded the furred alien a moment, her face carefully blank. She'd heard the expression was called her 'bitch face'. She found a certain satisfaction in the description.

    "Kyle Rayner," she said, swiping her own badge and disconnecting the person Knight-General Atrapes wanted watched. He felt something was off with the Jedi trainee. She personally couldn't feel what was so troubling about him in the Force, but logically, the events of his capture were curious. "I am Knight Iscandar. Follow me."

  3. #3
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    One more. One more. One more. One more...

    That phrase repeated in her head as he pulled herself up on the bar again. The muscles in her arms wailed with exhaustion. Repeating again, she pulled, rising until her chin rested on top of the bar, and then back down again. Snickering barely audible over the sound of her own heavy breathing jarred her from the activity. Dropping down to the floor Alexia turned cover the gym with a quick glance, her eyes passing over the various exercise machines until it settled on a pair of men a standing at the door. They were muscle bound brutes. Infantry by the looks of them. They were dressed for the gym, in compression shorts and tanktops with towels thrown over their shoulders. What men of their station were doing in this gym was unknown. This room was reserved for more prestigious members of the military, and at this early hour it was usually abandoned. That's why she was here. She did not, as her handler put it, play nice with others.

    The pair continued to snicker, then walked over to where she was standing. "Shouldn't you be home playing with your Tarkin Dolls?" One of them said, while the other went "Oooh!" and they bumped their fists together. It was shocking at first, but only because she was used to the respect her position as an Imperial Knight demanded. Here, in the gym, dressed in her own exercise clothing, they had no idea who she was. No idea at all.

    The amused chuckle that escaped her throat wiped the grins off their faces. With a hand she wiped her sweaty red hair out of her face, running it up and over her head, and down to rest on the back of her neck. "That was funny." They went back to grinning. The victory in their eyes was misplaced. "Do you know what's even funnier. Your face." Grins turned into confusion. "Ain't nothing wrong with my face."

    "Not yet."

    Her other hand came up, and with it the talker was lifted off the ground, his hands grabbing at his throat, clawing to pull away something that wasn't there but was nevertheless choking the life out of him. His partner, with the ebony skin, cried in alarm and started to advance toward her, but his attention was all on them and failed to notice the barbell rise from it's rack and shuttle across the room, catching him in the foot midstep and sending him crashing to the floor. He got back up, hobbling on his fractured foot, but he never had a chance as a twenty pound weight spun into his knee, breaking. Crying he went down again. Each time he rose up again it would hit him again, breaking another bone. Eventually he stayed down.

    "You should see your face now. It's funny." She quipped to the choking man, incapable of talking now. His face was red and purple, his eyes bulging from the pressure compressing his throat. She dismissed him with a wave of her hand, sending him ragdolling through the room only to collide with the wall and fall into the rack of barbells. Stepping over the broken and bleeding one she headed for the door, grabbing her own towel from where she left it on the elliptical machine and wiping of her forehead as the door closed behind her.

    Returning to her room she meditated on the events of the morning while the sun rose. On her lap rested a datapad still open to a recently arrived message. It was from her handler. Turns out the gym confrontation was a set up, an exercise to test how she would react. In it he condemned her use of force, encouraging her to talk her way out of problems instead of resorting to violence, but he did not that they would live and congratulated her on making progress in the form of not killing everything that got in her way. That comment only made her more furious. Alexia did not like how this place was changing her. It was necessary in order to survive. That was the option that Atrapes gave her. Adapt or die. Still, every fiber of her being had wanted to rip those men apart. She was sick of being a slave. The leash grew longer every day, but it tightened around her throat just as much.

    Leaving her unit, she strode through the halls of the Citadel. Passing an intersection of hallways she glanced down one as she passed, catching a glimpse of her favorite purple alien. Stopping and doubling back, she peaked around the corner and watched Palara walk up to the furry alien they had acquired some time ago. Alexia had been curious about the creature, and why Atrapes and Baastian were so interested in him. She would have sooner chopped his head off and been done with him. He looked like unnecessary baggage. Still, she would never miss an opportunity to bug Palara. Her thirst for blood was sated for today, but mischief was an endless hunger.

    "Taking your new pet for a walk Palara?"

  4. #4
    Hal wasn't sure how long he had been standing there, effectively chained to the kiosk. Actually, no, that wasn't true at all. He knew exactly how long he had been there, as there was a clock upon the opposite wall, and it had been checked at least a dozen times a minute as he had waited. Fourteen minutes, and roughly fifteen seconds. Could have been worse.

    Any complaints he might have had about having been made to wait were tossed in the bin the moment he saw a reddish twi'lek approaching, with all the right curves in all the right places.

    Ooh, but look at that face. Somebody thinks we've been naught-tay! His base natures gave a murring chuckle.

    Yeah, I don't think she's thinking that at all. His higher reasoning replied as it rolled its eyes.

    Thankfully, the twi'lek spoke first, eliminating all manner of possible greetings from the Nehantite, forcing him into response mode. Shaking out his wrist now that the spring-loaded cable was disconnected, he sported a smile as if he'd never been tethered at all, and he was merely meeting a lovely woman in a casual setting. "Why, hello there, Miss Iscandar," he said. "Pleasure to meet you under more... favorable circumstances, than the last time. Do you mind if I call you Miss Iscandar? Or... is it Mrs. Iscandar?" His pink eyes shot down to see if he could catch a glint of a ring on her finger.

    Before she could respond, however, another woman approached - one rather less comely.

    She looks like Doggie Chew Toy Barbie.

    Oh for fuck's sake, whatch what you're saying! What if they were reading our mind right then!

    Then 1: we'd know it, and 2: we'd both have a headache. Seriously, look at this woman; it's like she got gang-banged by cheese graters. I'd still hit it, though.

    You'd hit a sack of laundry.

    Yeah, probably.

    Could have left out the "probably."

    And then she spoke.

    Fuck this lady. And I don't mean I want to fuck her. I mean fuck her.

    What a bitch.
    His higher reasoning concurred, getting his eyebrows to knit at the insult.

    "I'm nobody's pet," Hal sneered. "I'm Kyle Rayner. I'm... sort of in tryouts with you guys, I guess."

  5. #5
    Iscandar glanced over at Rayner curiously before turning back to Sturkov.

    "I am Knight Iscandar, Sturkov," the twi'lek said tightly. "And 'e is not my pet so much as 'e is ze Lord Knight-General's. I do not know why 'e is given such leeway. I am presently taking 'im to be registered and documented."

  6. #6
    "Leeway?" Hal blurted. He then held up his left arm, with the chunky armband on it. "This is leeway? What the hell? I haven't even done anything!"

    Placing his paws on his head in exasperation, the Nehantite turned slowly, his back facing the pair as his tail lashed. "Just... whatever. Baastian said I'd get a trial run, alright?" he spoke as he turned back to face them.

  7. #7
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    "Is that so?" Alexia's interest was further piqued. She had thought that Palara was a rare exception to the otherwise all human Imperial Knights. It would seem that scrutiny of aliens in the ranks is lessening, or there is something truly remarkable about this individual for Atrapes to even consider testing him for enlistment possibility. Rumors of this Kyle Rayner had spread about, even here in the Citadel. Alexia had just assumed he was some spook that would get himself killed. By the look of him, and she made a show of the looking, he wouldn't last long.

    "Don't mind me. I'll walk with you. I am Alexia. So tell me Kyle, you must be considerably talented to have caught the Knight-General's eye. What kind of power are you hiding in that delicious furry body of yours." It was less that she was even attracted to the Nehantite, and more that she knew that copious flirting would annoy Palara. Alexia had not missed the annoyance in the face of the furry man when she called him a pet. She made a note for later and knew how to poke his buttons when he stopped being amusing.

  8. #8
    Oh, lady, there's more power in this *delicious* body than you'd ever imagine.

    If you say that out loud, I will sabotage every sexual advance you make for an entire month.

    Month? Dude, harsh!

    I'll do it. Trust me. Me and the mouth, we're like this.

    ...like what?

    Gar, I forget you can't actually see me. I had one finger crossed over the other.

    Ah, okay. Yeah, that was totally a visual thing.

    It was. I'll refrain from those in the future.

    Gotcha. So, back to the story?

    Good call.

    "Yeah, it's so," Hal replied. His pink eyes studied the red-head, though not in the same manner in which she had so openly ogled him. He'd been on Coruscant for several days, at least, and this was the first time he had been let out of his room. The last thing he wanted was to go back there just yet.

    "I wouldn't call myself talented, though," he continued. Stuffing his paws back into his pockets, he walked along beside Palara. He didn't actually need to follow her lead, as the hallways had changed little in a century, other than the paint scheme, but for the sake of his act, he stuck to her lead like guided tourist. "I was caught, after all. But, from what Knight Cain told me, you guys - and gals - have had a lot more training than I ever got. I was mostly operating on instinct. I'm interested to see what more I can do, with proper guidance."

    A coy smile brightened his muzzle again as he lifted an eyebrow toward Palara. "I'm sure there's all manner of things you can teach me."

  9. #9
    "I will not teach you," the Twi'lek answered shortly. Alexia's flirting had indeed rankled her, though she was far more tempted to leave Hal to Alexia's 'tender' mercies than to try and make Alexia leave. "I 'ave far better zings to do zan to play tutor to some prisoner. I will believe you are being considered for induction into ze Knight when Knight Cain or even ze Knight-General 'imself tell me it is so, and only zen."

    She remembered the chase. There was more to this simpleton than he was saying, her instincts were telling her, but she could sense or intuit nothing else. Everything he said was uttered with a plain certainty and wrapped in honesty. Or at least it felt honest enough. But then, she could do the same thing, trained as she was in infiltration and reconnaissance.

    "Alexia," she said, his manner annoying her just as much as Alexia's. "I do not zink 'e 'as been tortured yet. Per'aps you could tutor 'im in torture resistance after I 'ave 'ad 'im registered, yes?"

  10. #10
    "Woah, I think we can skip the torture training bit," Hal held his paws up in defense. "I'm just telling you what they told me, that's all."

    Letting his arms drop, he stepped back into line as they headed toward some bureaucratic mess or another. "Besides, what'd I do to piss you off, anyway? I've been the perfect gentleman. In fact, I was even going to ask you if you wanted to join me for dinner. I know a place that makes the most amazing meal cubes..."

    Oh, how he tried to keep a straight face, but it seemed impossible, a smile drawing up his muzzle as he neared the end of his sentence, followed by a quite mirthful chuckle of laughter. Shaking his head, still grinning, he carried on. "Just kidding. They're not that great of meal cubes. Could totally go for some real food, at some point. Oh, wow, that's a really high ceiling. How do they get up there to change the lights?"

    Droids, you idiot. His intelect minded him inside his own head.

    Oh, whoops. Duh. His base natures replied.

    Whether they were intentional or not, Hal's jokes made little headway with either of his new ladyfriends, and he soon found himself pushed into a line behind a dozen other men. Papers were asked for, pictures and prints taken, dental impressions, retinal scans, all manner of things, and Hal went through each check and procedure without question, though the dental impression did take some time to get, with his more animalistic jaws and large teeth. He was rewarded for his patience with an orange flavored sucker. Flavored more like the color orange, rather than the fruit, as far as he could tell, but at least it wasn't a meal cube.

    Then came the waiting, while everything was being processed. If they hadn't matched his DNA already, then they surely weren't going to come up with anything, now, and Hal knew for a fact that the Empire had no access to Midlothian databases, due to yet more bureaucracy, so he felt relaxed, turning the sucker over on his tongue, the little white stick waggling about outside his lips as he did so. At long last, his number 2814-69 (which gave him a giggle) was called, and Hal stood. He could see his escorts eyeing him carefully, but Hal simply acted naturally, stepping up to the desk before him.

    "Mr. Rayner," a plain-faced woman on the other side spoke, wholly devoid of emotion. "You are now registered, here's your uniform, training manual datapad, and your cap. We don't have boots in your size."

    Hal simply grinned as he accepted the uniform of a cadet, and nodded before snatching that cap up and popping it directly onto his head. Grin a mile wide, the blonde Nehantite beamed at Palara and Alexia. "So, I'm a cadet. Guess you're gonna have to train me, after all!"

  11. #11
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    Alexia laughed at the meat cube joke; a hearty cackle full of mirth and exaggerated for the annoyance of her fellow Knight. She had to admit, as little as she liked, that Kyle's sense of humor was a bit of sunshine in this otherwise drab and serious lifestyle. Palara's straight, serious face was a testament to this fact. She would have to make sure Kyle stuck around, even if just to continue to annoy the more straight laced members of the Imperial Knights. Torture would have been a lot of fun, but watching Palara get more and more worked up was entertaining enough. You could almost see the ulcers growing.

    "We use children strapped to repulsor packs to change the lights, and dust the windows. So many windows." She said, trying her own hand at continuing the humor. It was definitely not her strong suit, but cruelty to children is universally hilarious.

    Kyle was ushered off to start his processing. Alexia stood with Palara off to the side keeping an eye on the curious creature. "What do you think Knight Iscandar? There seems to be more to that wretched creature than he lets on. He must be something special if the Knight-General is so interested in him."

    Eventually he returned, boasting of his cadet status. Alexia gave him a wry smile and said, "Than we can start that torture training at once. I can guarantee one of us will enjoy it."

  12. #12
    Palara looked a bit sour as she took in the cadet's cap sitting jauntily atop Kyle's head.

    "I cannot believe zis," she murmured and shook her head. "Vairy well. Cadet Rayner, follow me. Zere will be a tour for you and ze ozzer newer cadets."

    She turned sharply on her heel and marched back down through the Citadel, making turns almost without a thought, until they entered a small assembly hall with a group of cadets standing at attention. Iscandar made her way to the front of the gathered students, who ranged in age from thirteen or so to their early twenties, and turned to face them, and said nothing, waiting for Hal to get into the group and stand at attention.

  13. #13
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    The door opposite the one from which Knight Iscandar delivered Kyle Rayner parted with a hiss, and Knight Matatek Sel Vissica stepped through the threshold. Standing with her webbed forepaws clasped behind her back, the Selonian remained where she was as the doors glided closed behind her, allowing her an opportunity to give the new crop of cadets a cursory visual inspection. Her whiskers rose and fell, and she winded the air as more a habitual act than anything that would glean useful information of this motley array of wet pups. She could see the sad state of things easily enough with her eyes. Sloppy parade stance, uniform in improper decor, Kyle Rayner.

    Kyle Rayner

    She paused, midway through walking down the ranks, looking at the very same Nehantite coward who surrendered to save his skin rather than test his resolve. A soft growl that revealed teeth was the extent on what commentary she'd waste on him. Vissica continued her slow walk to the fore of the assembly to stand next to her Twi'lek comrade.

  14. #14
    There are times in life where no amount of education, experience, or intuition can prepare you in the way that a good holomoviecan. Cap firmly tugged onto his head, and uniform jacket donned over the short-sleeved black tee he'd been wearing, Halajiin Rabeak summoned up all the memories he could of military movies, especially the crucial parts where the hero had just joined the army. Hal took his place in the first row, managing to bump a few other recruits down the line as he clapped his heels together, flattened his paws at his sides, swelled his chest with a deep breath and elevated his chin just slightly. Even his tail managed to behave as he played the part of the conspicuously poised cadet.

    And then there appeared over six feet of gorgeous, powerful, pantsless dream otter. Hal's composure failed him for a moment, but he regained it quickly. If he was to have any chance of impressing her enough to get her into bed, he'd have to really up his game, and he knew it. Still, he could not resist a smile at the Selonian, or a tick of his eyebrows and glance up at his cap, to let her know that he knew he was a cadet, now.

    He also had to work quite hard to refrain from standing at attention while standing at attention.

  15. #15
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    Tailing after the others, Alexia could not help but be amused by Palara's reaction to Kyle's acceptance into the Cadet program. They entered the gathering hall, where several other cadets stood in line formation. Her Twi'lek companion threw Kyle almost literally to the dogs, sending him scampering to get in formation with an exaggerated, and therefore sloppy, posture that made up for it's lack of military precision with an eagerness to impress. It was, like most things about this furry male, refreshing. The other cadets had spent time in military schools; already had the Empire stomp on their souls. Their postures were far more crisp and practiced than Kyle's. Where some saw ideal soldiers, Alexia saw robots being fed into the machine. Pity Kyle was likely to end up like the rest of them. A shame, really.

    The far door opened and none other than Vissica stepped in. Now this was an Imperial Knight after Alexia's own heart. She was a little preachy at times, but her love for, and excellence at, combat gave them something in common. Of all the Knights Alexia preferred the company of Vissica over all the rest.

    Leaning against a wall Alexia hid a smile behind her hand as she watched the comical display unraveling before her.

  16. #16
    "You 'ave been gazzered 'ere to be given a tour of ze building. By ze end of today, you will understand zat we do not mean tour like ze rest of ze galaxy."

    A holoprojector whirred to life, and a general map of the Citadel was displayed.

    "After you are shown ze major areas, you will be asked questions. If you cannot remember ze answer, you will 'ave physical training with Knight Vissica. If you 'esitate for longer zan a second, you will 'ave physical training with Knight Vissica. If we do not find you answer satisfying, you will 'ave physical training with Knight Vissica. Ze point of zis tour is to familiarize you with your new 'ome. Ask questions but do not wast my time."

    She paused.

    "Any questions?"

  17. #17
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    Vissica waited to see what questions would come from the rabble assembled before them. She crossed her arms high on her chest, looking down on the cadets. Her eyes never spent long on a single one, moving here and there to detect some aberrant behavior that would have to be corrected.

  18. #18
    The rows of cadets stood silent, none daring to speak up. None except for one Halajiin Rabeak - or, Kyle Rayner, as he was calling himself. Taking a quick glance up and down his line confirmed that everyone else was too scared to ask anything. Or possibly too smart. Hal was neither of those things, and so his paw raised into the air. When called upon, he kept his head up, shoulders straight, and spoke clearly.

    "When you say physical training with Knight Vissica, how physical are we talking, here? Combat training, or something more intimate?"
    You... are the biggest idiot to ever step off of Nehantish.

    Yeah, but she's just so dreamy.

    You're going to get us killed.

    Death by snoo-snoo, preferably.

  19. #19
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    Vissica took a few strides back down from where she'd come, once again closing distance with Kyle Rayner. Some of the less-disciplined cadets turned their heads to catch sight of what was happening, which elicited a sharp rebuke of "Eyes forward!" from the Selonian, which was more than enough to scare the throng into obedience.

    For a moment, she considered the impudent Nehantite's question. It was as foolish as she expected, but if he didn't learn from his foolishness then what was the point of this charade?

    "There is no other physical training more intimate than combat training, Kyle Rayner. Two partners locked together, testing skill, strength, and endurance."

    A paw reached out, snatching up a handful of Kyle's uniform collar as she hoisted him off his feet and up to her eye level.

    "You're not ready for that."

  20. #20
    Don't say it!

    Say what?

    I know you've gone some snappy, sexual comment right there on the tip of your tongue, but trust me, it's best if you don't say it!

    But it's soooooo good! I can't NOT say it!

    No! No no no! It's amazing we've managed to stay alive this long, I'm not letting you get us killed, now!

    Fiiiiiine. Spoilsport. I'll go with a tame one.

    Wait? What? No, I said-

    It was too late, Hal's body put into motion the tamest of all the scandalous replies he could think of. Pink eyes locked onto the black beady eyes of he Selonian, Hal simply gave a dreamy smile, not resisting Vissica's grip in the slightest, and sighed, "Maybe not, but a guy can dream."

    I hate you.

    Worth it.

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