Skeletons in the Closet, Nightmares in the Hall

[Hera]

Hera was making a list.

One by one she mentally jotted down a name, a rank, and a personality trait that she associated with that individual.

The list so far was not a very long one. Not nearly long enough for the purpose the Sith had to mind, but it was a place to start. Each name, each person represented a threat, a reason to maintain her guard and vigilance. They also, and more importantly the reason of this exercise, represented an opportunity.

With the absence of Grand Inquisitor Tear ('scoundrel' was the trait she wanted to designate to this particular name, although she knew it to be more correctly as 'visionary.' His part in the establishing of Project Nightmare was quite brilliant, and on a more personal level, his using her to gain knowledge of the Sith arts rather than killing her outright was an ace in his hand one could not argue with.) However, with Tear gone, Hera had been freed up to associate with various members of the Inquisitoriate, even accompanying them on a recent mission. She had, surprisingly, been afforded some rare time with Karl Valten, the officer acting as temporary GI in Tear's place. And she was starting to put together an understanding of those who were her captors. She was formulating a profile on each, assessing their potential for usary and manipulation. And the possibility of establishing to herself..an ally.

An intruiging lot. Even the girl, Reyok. All very disciplined and professional in the exercise of their duty. Military perfection. But they were still human weren't they? With the possible exception of Helghast. And Hera knew how weak and treacherous the human condition could be. Surely there was one -- even one -- amongst them that she could exploit. One of them would have a foible she could take advantage of. A flaw she could pick away at and expose, transforming and cultivating it into leverage for her own gain.

Steely blue eyes saw each face as she ticked off the names on her list.

One of them had something she could use. something from their past. Or something in their present..A skeleton hidden, a nightmare stowed. A character imperfection that could be coaxed or wooed or bullied into malleability to her will.

Hera was certain of it. Her Sith instincts assured her this truth. And in time she would find them.

There would be one among them. Atleast one.

One would be all she would need.

[Hera]

The sunlight filtered through the darkened glass of the huge vertical windows behind where Hera sat. They were each atleast 15 feet tall and coated in some type of black reflective material that allowed occupants to see out, but nothing to see in. They would be laser proof, rocket proof and everything-else proof, Hera had no doubt. She was in the heart of Inquisitoriate Headquarters where there was no such thing as any unauthorised exit and entry to this building. She would not be surprised if the sunlight had received permission in writing to shine through and warm her back with its remaining daylight rays. In her lap, Hera held a small notepad, doodling a picture of a swampy forrest scene to pass the time.

Imperial officers, ensigns and other personal passed by her as they walked down the great hall about their business, paying her almost no mind. The IMP droid hovering noislessly in the corner above her head was likely a big part of that, but it was due also to the fact that, for better or worse, the Inquisitoriate at large was getting used to her being around. She was not quite such an oddity any more. Atleast, she liked to think so. Curious glances still sometimes came her way, but not to the extent they had been before. Most everyone knew who's pet she was, and who now held her leash. Fear of those individuals alone assured no one approached her without the utmost reason to.

Hera drew a flesh-eating plant, taking pains to get the curve of the exotic flower petals just right. Eyeing it critically, she smiled, pleased with the accuracy of her effort.

She began at the first name. In her minds eye she saw Helghast clearly - the rich blackness of his hair, the sharp lines of his face. The coldness in his eyes. Untouchable. Unbreakable. He was like the sheer face of cliff - hard and inpenetrable. One could throw themselves against it and shatter every bone in their body and never make a dent. He was almost void of all emotion and appeared to have no fear, no remorse, no feeling whatsoever. A machine. There was never any question that she could maneuver him. She mentally scratched his name out and moved on.

The next few names would be just as quickly dismissed as possibilities. For different reasons, each would take far too long and far too much work to get close enough for her to even glimpse if there was the slightest chance of exploitation.

Karl Valten, acting Grand Inquisitor was not hard and cold like Helghast, but he was equally untouchable. Tall, blue eyed and strong jawed, he was a soldiers' soldier. The picture of what the Empire strove to be. Valten was too high in rank, had too much to lose for Hera to even entertain the thought of winning him to her own designs. Valten was a thinking man. Shrewd. And suspicious. He would quickly look for her ulterior motives. He was not rash or impulsive, which worked against Hera completely. Scratch.

Victor Crestmere. Hera groaned at the thought of this one. He, out of everyone managed to irritate her beyond abiding. And yet, she related to him the best. He used people. Used who they were against their own selves. With his casual charm and biting wit, he could play anyone, anytime, anywhere he wanted. He was a Chameleon - but that did not really do him justice. He was a genius impersonator and took on the manners and idiosyncracies of anyone he cared to. She would not be able to read him clearly, and that would make duping him impossible. Scratch.

She was moving now into what she considered the realm of possibilities. Flipping over the notebook page, she started a new picture.

And the list went on.

[Hera]

The image taking form as Hera drew was easily recognisable.

From the gilded hilt to the rippled lines of the grip, from the powercell housing inscribed with a name in ancient prose to the long, slender brilliance of the extended blade, revealed the classic beauty of a sublimely lethal weapon. A lightsaber. Hera's lightsaber, Atropos - named after the third fate who, with her shears, severed the thread of mortal life and ended with one movement the hopes, dreams and future of the chosen victim.

It had been some years since she had held this weapon in her hands, having hidden it in the confines of ShadowFaene, her home on the planet Enton, before she fled to Myrkr to escape the Purge.

Years.

Had it been to many?

She extended her hand in front of her, turning it over examining fingers and palm, wondering if she had, too, lost this skill along with her force ability. The thought outraged her.

Sure, any idiot could wave about a blade and lop off a head or two. But the artistry of fighting with a lightsaber required a skill that only a force-wielder could really achieve. Or appreciate. A duel between two Sith...or, yes, even Jedi...was an exibition in finesse and grace Hera had not witnessed in much too long a time.

She wondered if her blade was safe. If it had remained undiscovered. Even if someone located ShadowFaene, the odds of them retrieving Atropos from where it was concealed would be impossible. She had set traps so any intrusion would result in the whole place going up in a ball of incandescent flame. The thought brought her comfort. And she turned her mind once again to her purpose.

Ylor Jerrard. He had been a family man. Or Hera assumed as much after the closed discussion they had at breakfast one time with Helghast and Victor. He had not said as much. In fact, he had said nothing of the sort, but there was an allusion to a past life that he definitely did not wish to speak of. Past loved ones lost, perhaps? This spoke to Hera of a certain sensitivity to the man. A softer side. Though he was completely professional and certainly dedicated to the Empire, Hera couldnt help but wonder if there was some unresolved hurt or injury to Jerrard. It was worth keeping an open ear for this. Possible 1.

Bren'lar Scothis. Here Hera was now moving into lesser known territory. The next few indivduals were relatively unknown to her, having spent the short time of just one mission with them. However, these next showed the most promise. Scothis, for instance was a male. Right there he was in trouble. He was young. Strike two. And, he had quite the ego. Three. She could play to each of these failings with her feminine charm, but that was so cliche. And it assured no loyalty. Only a deeper sense of caring and committment would be able to challenge Bren'lars duty to the Inquisitoriate and Hera was not certain she could accomplish such a thing. She had never loved or cared for anyone more than herself. Where did one even start? She could listen to romantic songs and read poety she guessed, but that would probably prove as helpful as teaching a gungan tablemanners. Could she really fool anybody that she honestly, truly cared for them and that their well being took precedence above her own. She shrugged unconvinced herself but listed, Possible 2.


Danni Reyok. It was here, Hera felt her best option lay. Not that they girl was an easy target, by no means. She carried herself with a skill and confidence that led one to believe she had been a soldier longer than she had. She held herself well among her mostly male peers and was not intimidated in the least. Hera liked that about her. However, she was young. Young enough, perhaps, to still believe in friendship. True friendship. The kind people lived for. And died for. The kind that no matter what, that person was loyal and faithful to you. Hera laughed, she almost convinced herself. Possible 3.

Lastly, Naomi Lang. Hera paused in thought a while. Lang was a bit of an enigma. Strong and even a little hard. She was not the type to have 'friends.' No, if Hera were to get close to her, it would have to be through mutual respect. Lang, no doubt, despised her. As did the whole of Project Nightmare. She was a Sith, what was not to despise? However, as Hera well knew from her experience with Y'roth Helghast, one could hate and respect at the same time. Hera, despite the fact she had no force ability, was still a warrior and had the thinking of a fighter. It was on this level that she could connect with Lang. If Lang would allow it. Possible 4.

She added some lines to the grip of the lightsaber as the last of the natural light faded into black. The sun had set, though Hera could not see it from where she sat.

Of course, she could be wrong about all of them in her list. Reyok could prove her undoing and Valten would be the one to be used . The thing about human nature that you could count on, was that you could not ever absolutely count on it. People
barely knew themselves and did things they never thought they would. How could someone else really truly know what they would do either?

And that was the rub. The risk. She would take it, when it presented itself, and deal with the results as they came. If she chose badly, hedged her bet on the wrong individual, so be it. She'd been wrong before. On occassion.

She looked at her lightsaber, a strange longing in her eyes.

It had been too long since she had put Atropos to good use.

One day soon, she might change that.

[Karl Valten]

(ooc: *gasp* turns into Naomi's account)

A chorus of cheering voices rose to a climax, overloading the heavy music shaking the gym within the Inquisitorial citadel’s walls. While twilight swept over the outside, a handful of workers and soldiers, grunts and elites alike called the place home after hours. Normally packed with employees working out, troopers honing their bodies, and the occasional training sessions run by officers and the constant clang of weights, only the facilities’ sparring ring remained lit.

And it had attracted a miniature crowd; a circle of benches surrounded the ring. Spectators sat and stood cheering on as a pair of soldiers battled all out with bare knuckles. Two figures, sat side by side, watching as the final punch brought one of the fighters down. The victor stood in the center, chest heaving and sweat pouring to the floor. Blood flowed from several cuts, but the triumphant grin show through.

“Frelling pathetic!” Scorched brown eyes traced the path of a pair of medics hauling a bruised and unconscious body off the mat. Naomi, brushed a strand of dark hair out of her eyes. She leaned back against a stationary punching bag, crossing her arms in front of her skin-tight tank top. “Rookies can’t even put up a fight.”

The sandy haired man seated on a bench next to her flashed a flamboyant grin in her direction. At the forefront, the winner jumped from the sparring ring. A roar rose from the crowd as he raised a victorious fist. Cred chips exchanged hands as the few gamblers willing to risk getting caught by an inquisitor collected their winnings.

“Hey, you’re in charge of screening. Your fault if the entertainment sucks.” The female nightmare glared ion bolts at Bren’lar before huffing and turning away. In the ring, cleaning droids scrubbed the floor spotless for the next fight.

“Go frak yourself. Ylor’s running security.” She jerked a thumb towards the lifts where several soldiers kept a look out for any ranking officers.

Scothis stood, moving to lean against the bag. He seemed to relish the feeling of the plain clothes he wore. Naomi had to admit there was a much more…free…feeling without her uniform and armor.

“Come on, beautiful, go show ‘em how it’s done.” Lang slugged him in the stomach, putting some distance between them. She played with a strip of athletic tape in her hands, huffing indignantly.

“Not worth it everything goes in one ear and out the other.” Bren’lar just laughed raising his hands in mock defeat. “Chill.” In a blink of an eye he crossed the floor, sliding under the ropes into the ring. The nightmare threw her a devious smirk.

“Guess this is a man’s job.” He spun around looking for an opponent. “C’mon you scrubs.”

“Oh, you did NOT Naomi’s face eyes fountained anger, she gripped the roll of tape, crushing the thing flat. She stormed forward as a spec ops soldier began climbing into the ring to challenge Bren’lar. The applause suddenly vanished when the big man found himself tumbling through the air. He land behind Naomi with a crunch.

The female nightmare slipped into the fighting circle, glaring at Bren’lar, who his trademark smirk. “So the lady wants a dance after all.” Naomi pulled her hair back, fastening it behind her head out of the way. “I’m going to break you in half little man.”

Around them, the crowd silenced, though a few whistles rang through the gym. It wasn’t often that they saw the nightmares in a fight. Even the people running security trickled closer.

Near the back Ylor Jerrard shook his head in annoyance with his team.

[Danni Reyok]

It had only been a few moments earlier, when Danni had stepped into the room. For the first time since she had been there, the whole place was completely silent. A group of rookies and lower ranked officers stood around a relatively small sparring circle. At first Reyok wasn’t sure who could draw such a crowd; but at a closer look the two opponents didn’t even surprise her.

She found herself settling in a spot at the edge of the circle, seeing Naomi and Bren’lar fight was always a joy. It was amusing to say the least; she had a general idea of who would win so her attention was soon diverted away from the two figures.

Her gaze found Ylor at the corner of the gym; he seemed only mildly amused at the situation but more irritated than anything. She was about mid-step toward her fellow nightmare when a large hand grabbed her arm. Danni turned back, her green eyes glowing, to see a young man with black hair and deep brown eyes grinning smugly at her. Great! another rookie who obviously didn’t know quite yet that a woman could be twice as deadly as a man. She was about to tell him ‘politely’ to let her go when she caught him giving her a sideways glance up and down. Immediately she wanted to knock him flat on his back. . .maybe even knock out a few teeth.

“Why don’t you stay and watch the fight, little lady.” His voice was deep, it didn’t correspond with him at all. It was like his voice aged faster than his body. In one quick fluid motion, Reyok wrenched her hand out of his grasp and in return held his wrist in a deadly grip

“To bad I’ve already seen this show.” Her voice was ice and her nails dug into his skin as she spoke. His faced showed pain even as he tried to hide it. She flashed her teeth like a savage animal would before a kill before forcing his wrist from her grip. A smirk played into her features as she twisted away from the man; he stood rubbing his arm, the shock still hadn’t faded from his brown eye’s.

Ignoring the cheers for two sparring nightmares, Danni drifted away from the circle and back onto the track of her original destination. Lucky for her, Ylor hadn’t moved from his spot in the corner.

She approached him with a mild respect; she was sure she was showing it slightly. Taking the spot next to him, she leaned up against the wall crossing her arms over her chest. Nothing was said between them at first, both just waiting for the entertainment to start. Reyok smiled faintly as she half turned toward Ylor; a few blonde strands of hair falling over her eye’s.

“She’s pissed, isn’t she?” The way she said it, it wasn’t a question. Just by looking at Naomi's posture proved that Danni was right.

[Hera]

Where the rays of sunlight had streamed, evening shadows now fell, enveloping Hera in their subtle darkness.

She had stopped her doodling and for some time now had reclined in a quiet stillness, watching the business of the day - the comings and goings of Imperial personel - dwindle down to drips and drabs of uniformed individuals passing through the hallway, largely oblivious to her presence. Some on their way to supper. Some to duty. Some to who cares where.

IMP was still there, but even his red dot-like eye had dimmed from a brilliant crimson to a muted dull glow. He was still watching, but looked as though he wasn't.

The turbo-lift at the end of the great corridor disgorged two soldiers - not in uniform, but in exercise wear, but readily identifiable as soldiers nonetheless. They were speaking together, voices not loud, but Hera picked up a certain excitement, or rather, agitation in their tones that caused her to take an interest.

"I could've taken him" assured the first soldier, whom Hera noticed sported a large goose-egg on his forehead. His companion laughed good-naturedly, "You couldn't even make it into the ring passed Lang. Scothis would have destroyed you."
This insult added to the former's injury and he glowered at his companion. Hera didn't move, but her interest suddenly heightened at the mentioned names. "I would have liked to see their match" he added. "Then go back" snapped goose-egg, his bruised ego loosing the battle of self-control "I dont need you to hold my hand"

Hera never caught the friend's response, she'd stopped listening to them as they continued now on passed her.

So, her buddies were having a workout? Might be something to be gleaned from this. Pushing herself off the seat, Hera walked towards the elevator, her orbitous companion hovering along behind her. She did not think she would be welcomed into the PN social world - especially as wherever she went, Helghast went too via the IMP droid but she could watch their social interactions with one another, if nothing more. That - sometimes more than anything else - revealed dynamics that spoke volumes about the people involved and could open her understanding of them a little more. And who knew what other doors.

Ensconced in the turbolift as it closed in on her, Hera smiled up at IMP, staring through the renewed glowing red-dot and hopefully into Helghast's stoic glare beyond it, "You could do with a little excercise yourself, you know. Your'e getting a bit thick through the middle I've noticed."

[Y'lor Jerrard]

Ylor’s eyes traced Danni as she meandered in his direction. He didn’t acknowledge her presence, there was no need. The way she carried herself, her movements, her expression quietly showed a subtle respect, from a junior to an officer, from one Nightmare to another.

The lieutenant had seen her exit the lift, he saw everyone who came to the ‘club’. Reyok acted almost like Naomi, they both had a sever attitude problem at times. But the young Nightmare’s eyes held a malicious, predatory rage when dealing with the idiot of a soldier that Naomi didn’t. Reyok almost made him shiver, underneath everything; she was much more like the Sir than any of the other Nightmares.

Still, she was a teammate and, Ylor dared to think, a friend. A smirk played across his lips.

“Come on, Naomi’s always pissed when she’s not blowing things up or drinking.” In the fighting circle, Lang wounded tape around her hand while keeping a death-glare on Bren’lar. The sandy-haired young man just grinned back, throwing of his jacket covering the muscle shirt underneath.

“Bring on it on, pyro.” He hopped from foot to foot in a ready pose; his fluid steps carried him in a circle around the senior female soldier.

Naomi tore the final strip of tape with her teeth, throwing the role behind her. She bent her knees, bringing up her fists in a flexible combat stance. Her feet moved silently as she matched his movement.

Ylor turned, motioning towards a sergeant reclining on an incline bench. A large portable audio player, an ocean of wiring connected in to a cluster of large speakers.

“Slater, get the show on the road.” He threw a thumbs up before hitting the play button on the device. Heavy drumbeats, blaring electric guitar, and pounding bass blasted through the speakers.

“I’m back to put it in motion….”

Naomi and Bren’lar burst into motion, their limbs a blurring so fast that only the reflex enhanced nightmares could really follow.

"…I’m back to tell you no lies."

The lieutenant settled back to watch the fight. “Twenty credits on Bren’lar.”

[Danni Reyok]

A crooked grin played into her features as the two opponents started their battle. Their style was something that she had seen before. It was standard in the Project Nightmare group, although both Bren’lar and Naomi had alterations in their ways. Just like the rest of the group; everyone knew the way of the fight but changed that knowledge with their own techniques.

”Sit back and sip on this notion…”

The deep voice of the lead vocals growled out grimly, the electric guitar emphasized his lyrics…it was almost enough to make Reyok want to brawl.

”I’m back to put it in drive.”

Emerald glassy eyes sharpened; her senses picking up as she watched the two nightmares in the circle go at it. She knew there was not way that these lower officers could keep up; this was the luxury of being part of the Nightmares. Senses of an animal, is what Danni calls it; eyesight, quickness, hearing, the works; all were enhanced.

She studied her fellow nightmares for a minute; noticing different attributes that could help themselves; some even similar to her own. Of course her style was different than these two sparring; but seeing Naomi and Bren’lar fight made her own technique seem foreign. It took mere moments before the younger Nightmare’s grin grew, she would gladly take Ylor up on his bet.

“I’ll raise you to thirty credits on Naomi.”

[Hera]

"Can anyone lay odds, or does one have to be a part of the purple-circle to play?"

Both Y'lor and Reyok had their backs to her, but they knew she was there. Everyone knew she was there, with perhaps the exception of the two in the ring trying to knock each other's heads in. No one would look at her or make direct eye contact, doing their best to pretend she was not there. Safer for them that way. No fall out from the Nightmare's for undue interest that way.

Jerrard and Danni, though, had no such concerns. They were just watching the fight.

"My money is on Lang, as well" she added, by the by "She's got more to prove."

[Y'lor Jerrard]

“(Watch out...I’m back)”

Jerrard cocked an eyebrow at Hera as she made herself known. He hadn’t thought she’d be about at this time, or even how she’d gotten the notion to fall in. His sentries hadn’t reported anyone snooping around.

“Hard currency only, show us the credits an…” Ylor’s gaze trailed into the crowd behind Hera, things suddenly seemed much more uptight. He caught sight of a small orb of a droid navigating the mass.

“(Watch out...I’m back)”

The nightmare’s breath escaped in a hiss. Of course, the thing followed this blasted woman around everywhere. And if IMP was here, that meant the Sir was watching.

“I’m back”

[Hera]

She followed Jerrard's eyes as they moved from her to the IMP hovering just behind her, and did her best to ignore the fact his attention had shifted along with his line of vision.

"I have no credits on me at the moment - present circumstances being what they are - but you should know Im good for it. Should I need to be" she added, with what she hoped was a charming smile.

[Danni Reyok]

Danni did nothing more than plaster a smile on her face; which to her ‘great’ effort looked more like an animal baring its teeth. Following the other’s gaze for a mere moment, she found IMP and a growl formed at the back of her throat. Truthfully, the droid was pretty much the most irritating thing in the galaxy; it was never any fun when you knew the Sir was watching.

She dropped her attention from the little IMP droid; there was nothing she could do about the small metal heap, it was here and unfortunately so was Hera. There was just something about her that made Danni dislike her; whether it was due to the hate teachings of the Nightmares or from personal experience, she didn’t know.

As much as she tried to dismiss Hera’s presence, she couldn’t. It was a nuisance that Danni just couldn’t forget.

Stiffly, she stuck her hand in the only back pocket of her shorts and pulled out a handful of credits. Without looking at the amount in her hand she locked her gaze on the fighters. Her smile fading into an emotionless state…she directed her words at Ylor.

“I hope you have your credits on you.”

[Naomi Lang]

Naomi finished her spin with Bren’lar’s fist rocketing through where she’d just been standing. “Rghaaa” Her heel followed with her body, lashing out towards the snipers head.

“I’m back to cause a commotion. I’m back to demoralize.”

Scothis fluidly brought an arm up to deflect the kick and dropped low under her leg, aiming a sweep kick of his own at her thighs. The man hit nothing but air, reflexes kicked into overdrive as Naomi came flying down at him.

“Sit back and sip on this notion. I’m back to put in drive.”

Lang’s fist hit the mat and she grinned as her sparring partner came out of his impromptu roll. Surging forward, she met Bren’lar with a river of lightning fast punches. A chaotic dance resolved between the pair as the sergeant matched each of her attacks with a parry.

“(Watch out…I’m back)"

Bren’lar’s teeth ground together as he struggled to hold off the assault; Naomi picked up the intensity, driving Bren’lar towards the ropes, her eyes blazing. Scothis shuffle-stepped backwards ever closer to being trapped by the madwoman in front of him and the cables behind.

“(Watch out…I’m back.)”

For a moment, barely noticeable, Naomi dropped her guard in her offensive. But Scothis’s nightmare eyes caught it. In a blink of an eye, Naomi found her self doubled from an iron hard fist driving into her ribs. She faltered, pain shooting though her body.

“When the sound goes BOOM!” “HAAA.” A round-house kick caught her hard in the gut and Naomi hit the ground wheezing.

“What ya gonna do?”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Ylor took his gaze off of the droid. Frack it, the Major probably knew about this anyway. The man had his eyes everywhere. It was a surprise the Helghast wasn’t a full inquisitor.

“Hell, with it I’m off duty.” Jerrard did his best to put on a friendly smile; this was going to be a long night. Just then a round of “oos’ went around the crowd. Even Ylor had to wince as Naomi took a beating.

Still, he broke out into a grin. Naomi was one of the toughest people he’d met, he wasn’t worried.

“You two sure you don’t want to change those bet?”

”When the sound goes BOOM.”

[Hera]

"I think she's just giving him some rope to hang himself with, myself. My money stays where it is"

Lang had better not let Scothis land too many of those, or Hera's money was as good as gone. Somehow, though, she did not think this would be the case. Not that Hera cared. The pair could bash each other senseless and that would suit her just fine too.

"You ever had a spar with Lang?"

The question was directed to Danni, whom to Hera, appeared not to like her very much.

[Danni Reyok]

Keeping her eyes straight forward wasn’t a problem, but trying to drain out Hera was. People had told her not to judge others on first impressions; if she had been a different person than maybe she would have listened. Due to her present character, she could careless about what people told her and who she judged.

She watched as Naomi got a stomach full of Bren’lars foot and she couldn’t help but inwardly laugh. Anytime, watching these three nutcases go at it was worth it; besides it was the best forms of entertainment around for Danni.

And yet, as tuned into watching this, she still knew Hera was waiting for an answer.

“No. Lang and I have a understanding for the time being.” She plotted her words with caution; talking to Hera felt like talking to a real life devil. It just felt wrong and in so, Danni kept her voice strong and hollow.

“We have no reason to spar against each other. There are plenty of others for that kind of fun.”

[Hera]

"Probably a smart thing" Hera observed, "women tend to take such contests more seriously than men. Harder to chalk off a loss as impersonal." She smiled disarmingly, "Vengeful little creatures, most of us."


She turned back to watch the pair in the center ring, but she was not quite done with the current train of thought. Danni had said for the time being..
Was there seeds of disharmony already in this young officer? Hera wondered. Reyok had a fire in her, that much was glaringly obvious. A short temper? Most likely. And a long memory to go with it, probably. How lovely.

"And as you say, there's no need. Plenty of heads to break just lounging about the place, isnt there."

She cast a hand about her, taking in the crowded gym with a sweep. "Is this the only way to let one's hair down in this dreary military coop?"

[Danni Reyok]

She listened as Hera’s words crawled into her head; although she didn’t show it. There were many things that Danni; and in being a woman, couldn’t not brush off as impersonal. Losing was only one of many. It haunted her that she could even be around Hera, let alone agree with her.

But as for being categorized as ‘vengeful creature’, Danni could only scoff. Vengeance was for the weak minded; if the act of revenge was used for motivation then whatever purpose there was would be lost. But revenge together with hate or love . . . or passion then there would be a purpose of something divine. There was a line that was set for determining this; it was the matter of finding that line.

Danni, of course, had found that line over a decade ago.

Seriousness remained in her features as she addressed Hera’s question. “It’s either this, small arm’s sparing, the range, or the mess hall. Take your pick . . .”

She kept her voice sharp even when she trailed off. She threw a glance at Y’lor; who seemed to be amused all by himself. He was no help and he knew it. Jackass.

“After all, this is only a dreary military coop.” Venom dripped off the word dreary; Hera would never understand this type of life.

[IMP]

IMP flitted from Y'lor's shoulder to Hera's, its main blood red receptor moving from Hera to Reyok and back again. It had been rather passive for the most part, idly observing everything, keeping track of everything and noting anything beyond what the Sir would normally perceive.

Reyok's vocal intonations had made a drastic spike while communicating to the prisoner and IMP had immediately set to analyzing the conversation at a more detailed degree. Hera was a weaker life form surrounded by individuals that were trained in every aspect to eliminate Hera's category of existence. IMP produced a statistical probability in the chance of conflict and the prisoner effectively had no grounds of competition from basic data. However, no sample had been taken of Hera's combative abilities as of yet and that left an unknown factor.

INCOMING MESSAGE///

RETRIEVE COMBAT SAMPLE OF PRISONER A-83418 IMMEDIATELY - MAJOR Y'ROTH HELGHAST

END MESSAGE///

IMP quickly shifted itself right in front of Y'lor's face. A red light was projected into Y'lor's right eye as IMP delivered the message to the highest ranking agent available.

Y'lor shrugged slightly as he turned a casual glance towards the two women.

"Sorry to interrupt, Ladies, but someone's already picked for you. Hera, you're next in the ring."

IMP returned to the vantage point at Hera's shoulder.

[Hera]

"Is that right?" Hera questioned laconically as IMP returned to her side.

So ol' jughead upstairs wants a free show does he? Typical. Helghast was all work and no play, always. Its a wonder all his wiring didn't just fritz on him from never switching off.

Hera haaahed in the direction of the radiant red orb, her breath coating the glowing lens in a thin moist film, before turning again to her companions.

"Guess I have an even greater interest than a few creds vested in who's left standing, assuming that one of them will be my opponent"

She wasn't sure if that was what was intended, but no matter. Anyone would do. A hands-on contest would be a welcome change to the idleness she's had to endure all these long months.

A glimpse ring-ward, in good time to see Scothis take a elbow to his solar plexis, brought an appreciated "hmph" from the Sith.

She looked from Danni to Y'lor, "Either of you got any tips for me?"

[Y'roth Helghast]

Y'lor barely moved as watched Scothis stumble back, sink into the momentum and then pivot and catch Lang in the side of the head with his ankle. Needless to say, she hit the ground and in Jerrard's opinion, the real fight had just begun as Scothis leaped upon Lang and assumed a dominant position as they grappled. Scothis' hand slid around her neck and Naomi struggled to insure that she didn't fall into a blood choke so easily.

From where they stood, Scothis and Lang appeared to be a jumble of limbs, occasionally flipping and tossing about, as one or the other gave into or achieved a dominant position. Jerrard would say at this point it was drawing to an end. 90% of real hand to hand combat ended on the ground in some form of grappling and from there it depended on endurance and technique more than just brutal strength. Scothis had the advantage in endurance due to his natural physical stature but Y'lor would actually credit Lang with the more refined technique.

He casually glanced to Hera and raised his eyebrows to her question.

"Tips? Pain hurts. Don't lose."

[Hera]

"I had been hoping for something more along the lines of <i>here, take my knife</i>"

She watched on as the struggle closed in the ring. Either one would do. It had been too long since Hera had been able to level some freehanded damage to someone. But she <i>knew</i> she still knew how.

[Danni Reyok]

A corrupt smirk contorted her emotionless face into something one notch shy of insanely wicked. Y’lor had a certain way of speaking that made the simplest statements sound soothing and vaguely seductive at the same time; seductive, in her way, meaning deliciously cruel.

A low, but still feminine rumble brewed from the pit of her throat and emanated to Y’lor and Hera’s ears only. It wasn’t everyday that Danni found something genuinely funny; but then again, her vision of funny was just a shade different than everyone else’s.

Naomi and Bren’lar were almost done shanking the crap out of each other, so whomever Hera was facing, it wouldn’t been too long until that ‘mysterious’ person was revealed. Personally, Danni would pay half her fortune to see somebody womp Hera to pieces, but never would she be so unprofessional to say such a thing.

Her hushed laughter subsided and her arctic eyes locked harshly on the other blond women. Danni brushed Y’lor’s comment aside; she flashed a typical acid grin and spoken with a true tone.

“My advice? Don’t think. Just feel.”