CadetNewb
Well-Known Member
It was a simple request. One that would have been considered bookish and nerdy in highschool, but out here, meant the difference between life and death. Richard had asked Ylfa to go over armored combat more, hopefully in some sort of simulator or somesuch if the ship had it, but the location she sent to him was odd. It was supposed to be a storage or cargo room in the Sledge Mama, but when the door opened for him, what he saw was completely unexpected.
Heavy smoke filled the air as several marines sat in chairs with helmets covering their eyes and ears. Others still sat around a snack bar while others stood. But all of them that weren't 'jacked in' were watching one thing. A brutal deathmatch between a pair of Hostiles as they viscously carved into each other with chain-knifes, their weapons tossed to the floor in the close quarters scuffle. Sparks flew, a hand went flying, and a loud scream of "MOTHER F***ER" shook the entire compartment as the melee weapon was brought into the neck of the slower marine.
"Hey, you made it!" Ylfa waved him over from one of the seats.
He had found himself in the middle of a fight club.
Heavy smoke filled the air as several marines sat in chairs with helmets covering their eyes and ears. Others still sat around a snack bar while others stood. But all of them that weren't 'jacked in' were watching one thing. A brutal deathmatch between a pair of Hostiles as they viscously carved into each other with chain-knifes, their weapons tossed to the floor in the close quarters scuffle. Sparks flew, a hand went flying, and a loud scream of "MOTHER F***ER" shook the entire compartment as the melee weapon was brought into the neck of the slower marine.
"Hey, you made it!" Ylfa waved him over from one of the seats.
He had found himself in the middle of a fight club.