Public Lay your rifle next to mine

[The Monster]

Location: "Hope" Dire Wolf Class Star Destroyer between CIS/SJC space
Time: 0900 Hours Galactic Standard Time
​

It had been more than a minute had passed since the battle of Yurb, and the subsequent devastation of TDW's own ranks at the hands of the Bryn. Sergei had been prepared to end it all, save for the Jedi's intervention that had turned the tide. This alone hadn't been the only thing that had left an impression. The fighting men and women that were force user and not had shown Sergei maybe he and his weren't the only ones actually worth anything in a fight when the cards were down. Well, his and some of the men and women who fought with the CIS's Dauntless. While he would maintain a healthy respect for those soldiers under CDF command he'd still bet on his own first though. So Sergei thought that in the interest of building camaraderie and shared ties between the SJC and CIS military units, he'd do something that he hadn't seen done before at least with current galactic governments.

He'd sent out an open invitation to the military units of the Dauntless and greater CDF alongside the SJC with the intent of the building foreign relations, and doing some cooperative training events. TDW after all was a paramilitary organization now, and while technically Sergei and TDW worked for members of the CIS, he was able to go to and fro as he pleased, mainly sticking around with the CIS as for all the public hate going around, they really were the most welcoming and had the best intentions that he'd seen. So far anyways, as he hadn't done an extended deployment with the Silver Jedi Concord.

He'd set the date for two weeks after his transmission allowing the parties that be plenty of time to get their gear and organize their travel in due time. The two weeks was up now though. So Sergei sat in the hangar eagerly awaiting who might come. Hope had all of her training facilities ready and while there were two fighter squadrons deployed in cases of security he didn't think anyone would be stupid enough to try and go toe to toe with them.

So in a small chair he sat and waited, wondering who (if any) would respond to this request.

 

[Mi'la Undari]

It had been weeks since the incident, but she felt like she had to try something, anything to feel safe again. Not that it would matter. Looking at the reflection in the mirror, she gingerly reached for the prosthetic Lekku that her medical team had gifted her, feeling the fake skin they had grafted onto it. It still felt unnatural, and it probably always would. Flexing her right hand, she could still feel the weight of the new cybernetic arm that had been fixed onto her shoulder, wondering how long it would take for her to feel 'normal' again. As if that would ever come again. She stepped back, staring hard at the worn and fatigued woman gazing back at her, and wondered where it had all gone wrong. The force had left her, her master no longer knew what to do with her, and she had been reduced to being a mere explorer within the order. So much for the great explorer Mi'la Undari, lasting all of thirty seconds against a Sith Lord in combat and nearly getting herself killed in the process. She couldn't stop the tears that had built up, and so before leaving the refresher, she would cry.

She had gone through three lives already, once as a scholar, once as a slave, and again as a jedi. Now she was going to start her forth life, as an ordinary citizen.

Drying her tears, she would proceed to the training facilities, knowing that as much as she hated it, she needed to try and move on. Entering the room, she found a single man waiting in a chair, and assumed this was the instructor she needed to talk to. Clad in a wrinkled flight suit and a worn leather headband, Mi'la would approach the man, trying to sound lively as she spoke. "Hi, I'm here for the training? I'm Mi'la Undari, jed-" She stopped herself, wincing as she realized she slipped up again. Can't even get her station right. "I'm with the Explorer Corps. Is this for the self-defense class?" She hoped she was at the right place, anything right now would be a victory; one she was in desperate need of.

The Monster

 

[Len Vert]

The last drops of beer dropped out the can and into his mouth.

It was only his third one this morning, and he felt great. Walking down the halls with a pep in his step, he made his way to the fighting lesson. He had never been much of a fighter himself. Well, a starfighter pilot, but that didn't count. Or at least to others it didn't.

Crushing the can with his forehead he shrunk it down before it was a small piece of tin. Finding the nearest trash an he tossed it in the air. Bouncing off the wall it landed straight into the can.

"Woohoo!"

As he was celebrating his small achievement he found the door to the class. Stepping up to them they slid open, revealing a Twi'lek girl talking to a man. Deciding to announce his arrival he somewhat loudly talked.

"Echo! Echo...Echo...Echo...Haha, cool. Anyways, is the the fighting class I was told about?"

The Monster | Mi'la Undari

 

[The Monster]

Location: "Hope" Dire Wolf Class Star Destroyer between CIS/SJC space
Time: 0905 Hours Galactic Standard Time
​

Sergei didn't have to wait long for the two arrivals to show up. Not as good a showing as one might particularly hope for, but at least someone showed up. He sighed inwardly as he made a mental note to give Dauntless a friendly reminder this was for their benefit as well. He would stand and promptly fold up his small chair as the two approached, one a bit.... apprehensive, the other quite the opposite. Judging by their demeanor and appearance, they had little actual combat experience as soldiers. Possibly other roles, but aside from the replacements on the twi'lek, Sergei noted none of the traits many soldiers showed. Their spacial awareness, their gait, even the twi'lek's own slip of the tongue had shown she was not comfortable, either with the situation, or herself.

This would have to change.

Sergei would speak in gruff voice, firm but not overly unwelcome nor aggressive.

"I thought the message I had sent entailed proper soldiers? No matter, if it is self defense you wish to learn, then learn it you shall," He would turn towards one of the many exits of the hangar and motioned for them to follow.

The large human would casually walk, a brisk pace for those who were shorter, as he made his way towards the training grounds of Hope. They would pass by the various fabrication and technical centers of the tech bays, past several of the medical stations before getting to the training grounds aboard Hope. At various stations many of TDW's various soldiers, security personnel, even medical and mechanical technicians were training. Taking the time to keep their bodies and minds as one healthy unit with various strength building, shooting ranges, mixed martial arts, even fighting with blades. Practice blades, but the intent would be same as two commandos fought with traditional Gladius style blades, fashioned to mimic the weight and shape of the Commandos' own blade. But Sergei would not have near as much time as he wished to teach them all of the finer points of self defense, or fighting in general. They wouldn't be taught how to fight at their lowest, be instructed where true strength came from. How to kill a man with a single hand using it like a blade. He would instead stick with the basics.

He would approach the armory next to one of many shooting ranges, this one stocked with a variety of small arms. Pistols mainly, a few hand cannons, some shotguns, several rifles of various sizes and caliber. He would need to test their accuracy with a pistol first, and focus on the basics. Especially if they couldn't handle a pistol, then he'd have to give them something more controllable and easier to aim.

"Well then, first thing's first. I will need you to select a weapon from the armory. Arms man," he spoke directly to the older gentleman behind the counter "They are authorized to draw whatever it is they feel they can handle, although feel free to ask the man if you have no experience,"

He would then go up to the range and inspect it, noting none of the targets here had been shot recently. Which meant that they were all in relatively good condition as the target fabrication system was usually kept quite busy by the number of targets the Wolves would routinely destroy. All in order to hone skills to the razor's edge. He would speak directly to them now as he took a seat while waiting for them to select their weapons.

"The first step to being able to defend yourself, is to find the tool with which you are to defend yourself with. You must be comfortable with this tool, get to know it, be able to understand its capabilities and how they are to be handled and used. This part of the process is extremely important, and I do suggest you do not rush it. Nor get something too much for yourself to handle,"

He had spoken his piece, and now Sergei would calmly and patiently wait for the two of them to make their selections. He had a few expectations for each of them, things that he thought they would do. The former jedi might be one who thought weapons such as these were beneath them, or rather, barbaric and highly uncivilized. Sergei also figured the pilot might attempt to get something a bit too heavy, and possibly nearly blow his own head off. But so long as neither posed a threat to themselves nor others he wouldn't interfere until it was time to start shooting.

Len Vert Mi'la Undari

 

[Tobias Dib]

The young man sat in the lounge of the ship as it travelled through hyperspace. Scattered around the room were men of his troop, the Fire Guard, brothers and sisters of war. Yet today they relaxed in off duty dress, for this was not a summons to battle. Instead it was a call for like-minded individuals seeking to test their mettle with one another. A chance to build bridges between progress of similar persuasion. Soldiers. But not just any soldiers. A group of some renown led by a man with a reputation for warfare.

The ship dropped to realspace at the before mentioned time and destination. The young man raised his head at the announced summons to the hangar bay. A final drink of water from his glass and he left the lounge to join a hand selected few to board the shuttle. Waiting for takeoff, he looked at his three companions and gave them a nod that was returned in equal silence. Before long the ship exited the USC Hammer and made its way across the expanse of space for the Star Destroyer, following the landing direction to one of its holds.

With a hiss of hydraulics the shuttle settled within the much larger vessel and the ramp lowered allowing the man and his companions to depart. Pausing on the deck he paused before removing the swords in the harness on his left side. His right hand pulled his pistol from the holster on his right and handed them to one of the Guard.

Turning from the shuttle and his companions he moved across the hangar bay to approach one of the soldiers.

"I'm here for the training."

He fell in behind as he followed the soldier to the training rooms. Arriving late he caught the introductory spiel about arming themselves adequately for proving they weren't just a few idgits about to make fools of themselves. Nearing the counter his eyes travelled over the weapons.

Typically he preferred his edged weaponry and sidearm, but the choices available were very enticing. His eyes immediately found the M-47 C and he resisted the urge to choose that one. More than likely the man in charge wanted to judge their proficiency with a sidearm first. So with reluctance he moved from the rifle and began looking at the other choices. His first pistol was an old, reliable Protector revolver. A slugthrower that was reliant and kicked like a mule for both the shooter and the target. But the L-7 stole his attention.

"I'll take the L-7."

With the firearm handed over he kept the muzzle pointed down and away as he pulled the slide back just enough to ensure there wasn't a round chambered. Two magazines were slid across the counter, deftly palmed and pocketed in his left pouch as he holstered the pistol on his right thigh. Normally he would field strip any firearm but, as he wasn't familiar with the weapon, he decided to trust the armory sergeant. After all, he was just supposed to be some newbie boot. Seeing the man in charge taking a seat, he headed over.

"Tobias Dib, Alpha Company, 1st Battalion, 77th Infantry Regiment."

Mi'la Undari Len Vert The Monster