Two towering, tinted, transparisteel doors slide open to grant you access to the central chamber of the Combat Training Halls. The main room is wide and open and as large as as a holoball field. Tall walls stretch towards a domed ceiling that is made up of rows of ambient lights that spread out and fill the room with soft even lighting that eliminates any shades or shadows. Those same walls are lined around the perimeter with racks and stacks of varied weaponry: everything from swords and polearms to rifles and flamethrowers.

There are two signs that hover over each weapon rack to create an alternating motif in the Combat Training Hall: “No Explosions” and “Accorded Neutral Territory”. While the first is fairly obvious, the second speaks to the single law of the Training Halls: all members of the Brotherhood are welcome, and no member is to be killed or maimed without incurring the wrath of the Grand Master and the Inquisitorius.

A trio of training dummies are statically set up and spread out in a line, each made out of a blend of alloys and padding that can withstand blows from any standard weaponry with the exception of lightsaber blades. To the side of the dummies, a large sparring mat has been stretched out to create a larger footprint than the typical shockboxing ring. The padding is good for helping teach new combat students how to take a fall without injury and offers firm footing, but the hard rubber mat is hardly forgiving.

Behind the sparring area is a door that leads to a small archives that combat students can use to view holorecordings of fights and duels from the past as well as relevant information on combat tactics, techniques, and forms. On the opposite side of the archives at the far end of central room is the locker room that members can safely store their equipment.

The final and probably most important element of the Combat Training Hall is the onsite Med Ward. The maglock door is sealed off and can only be opened by an attending Medic. The Medical facilities feature state of the art bacta tanks for recovery and aftercare. A combination of observation and waiting room rests adjacent to the recovery center and features two large monitors that display a live feed of the central room.

The Combat Halls are staffed around the clock, allowing combat students and mentors alike to come and go as they please at odd or regular hours. It also reserved for members looking to prove their worth to compete in the Antei Combat Center.

[Venue Note: Weapons incorporated into your match are allowed to be used, even if not listed on your Weapon Load Out for the match itself. Skill usage and all other ACC rules and guidelines still applies.]

Calenhad let out a sigh as he sat down upon his favorite chair. Today had been a long day of work keeping fools from killing each other in the training hall. Truly, one must never underestimate the sheer stupidity that people possess. Calenhad wiped his hands over his bleary eyes and let loose another sigh. His eyes blinked as he caught sight of his blood stained hands.

“Guess I’d better clean up” Calenhad said to himself. As he stood the Kel Dor heard a blaster echo throughout the training hall. He paused before stating “Not my problem.”

Calenhad walked out of the medical ward and towards the locker room. While passing by the training dummies his eyes met a large Shistavanen firing a DL-44 blaster at the stationary targets. Calenhad ignored the commotion and walked into the locker room refresher. He walked over to the sink and turned the water on. As the water dripped down his blood crusted hands Calenhad recalled how the accident occurred. Two neophytes had decided that replicating the battle prowess of the ancient Sith legends would be a good idea. With no training in the art of bladed weapons, the neophytes fought each other using the vibroblades found on the weapon racks of the training hall. Perhaps saying that they “fought” each other would give them too much credit.

Calenhad arrived in the training center to begin his shift at the medical ward just in time to witness a neophyte receive a slash across the arm and collapse in pain. Due to the sheer amount of blood at the scene it was clear that a major artery had been served in the neophyte’s arm. Thankfully the medical ward was close enough for Calenhad to stop the bleeding and stitch together the boy’s arm. He would need several Bacta treatments in order to counteract the damage done to his brachial artery. Calenhad’s orange eyes blinked from behind his goggles. He looked at the chronometer on the wall of the refresher-21:30. While it was true that the training hall was open 24/7 most members had the courtesy of refraining from firing blasters or slugthrowers after 20:00 to allow patients an opportunity for rest. Yet the Shistavanen continued to fire his blaster, again and again.

That’s it. Calenhad thought. The Kel Dor marched out of the locker room with a purpose. His angered strides quickly brought him before the oblivious Shistavanen, who continued to fire his blaster.

“Excuse me” Calenhad said. The Shistavanen continued his training. “Excuse Me!” The Shistavanen growled and turned toward Calenhad. “Those stationery targets can’t offer you much of a challenge. Why don’t you step into the ring with me?”

The Shistavanen took a moment to think it over. The creature nodded in acceptance a moment later. The pair walked into the ring. “It’s a boxing ring so melee only. You wouldn’t be able to use that blaster effectively at this range either way.”

‘This is perfect’ Calenhad thought to himself. My patients get to rest so my work is not wasted and I get to have a little bit of enjoyment.’

Calenhad smirked behind his breath mask as he said “Before we begin, might I know your name?”

“Fenrir” the Shistavanen acknowledged.

Two blades of crimson ignited, signaling the beginning of the battle. Calenhad gripped his saber with both hands. His right hand gripped the top of the saber while his left rested loosely near the bottom. Calenhad stared at Fenrir as he began to walk slowly towards him. The Shistavanen’s red eyes seemed to glow with a fire blazing within. These glowing red eyes glared toward Calenhad who felt unnerved by the intensity of the glare. Calenhad hesitantly stepped forward with his left foot. This hesitation almost cost him when Fenrir leapt towards him, propelled by the Force. Calenhad quickly raised his saber to catch the downwards blow. The Kel Dor grit his teeth as the force of the impact traveled through his arm. Calenhad sent the Force in a pulse throughout his arm, calming the frayed nerves. The crimson blades locked together with neither opponent clearing gaining ground. Calenhad let go of his saber with his left hand. Fenrir snarled and pushed the saberlock towards Calenhad. Calenhad threw his left hand forward, smashing it into Fenrir’s nose. The Shistavanen howled as the electrical current was discharged from Calenhad’s shock glove into his nose. Calenhad smirked from beneath his breath mask as he watched his opponent squirm in pain.

His eyes stung from the shock while he involuntary caught his nose. However, even though that pain, he knew he was lucky it was not a stunning blow. Fenrir knew that he had to do something, and he did. Using the Force, he propelled himself forward and dived headfirst at the smirking Kel-Dor.

Unfortunately, the Force warned Calenhad about the incoming attack a few heartbeats before, and thus he got out of the way just at the last second, making the large Shistavanen hurtling past him and right on the floor and on his stomach.

"Well now, what's the matter? Is a live target too much for you? Like to get back at shooting the dummies again?", taunted Calenhad as he circled the fallen Shistavanen, keeping is distance just in case. Fenrir started getting up slowly, his anger building up inside him. How come this puny humanoid was getting the better or him? He drew himself to his full height again, towering above the Kel-Dor who was still circling him like a bird of prey.

"The fight has only begun," said Fenrir with an unpleasant grin. However, he knew that his opponent had better melee fighting skills than him. He needed to stay away from those Shock Gloves. The best thing for him would be to use the Force to weaken Calenhad.

Concentrating hard he went for a punch, his speed augmented by the Force.

Instinctively, Calenhad moved away from the line of the strike. However, Fenrir knew that he would do something like that, and thus he was ready for him. As Calenhad moved away, Fenrir moved and rotated his punch as well, at the end of which there was a blinding flash of light.

This time Calenhad was on the floor squirming and groaning in pain, hands over his eyes.

Fenrir grinned. He would have loved to say a few smart words here, but instead did something else. He just chucked his live Dioxis grenade at Calenhad, which he himself wore his breath mask.

The flash of light seared Calenhad’s eyes. He gasped involuntarily and fell backward, the momentum of his dodge transferred into a clumsy landing upon his back. His four fingered hands curled and dug into the leathery skin surrounding his goggle covered eyes.

A deep chuckle echoed throughout the training hall. Calenhad’s head snapped up and his eyes opened in an attempt to locate the noise. It was a fruitless endeavor, as the Kel Dor could only see a blurry haze around him. He closed his eyes as it was clear that they would be of no use to him at the moment.

A metallic sound echoed nearby. Calenhad gripped his saber warily and prepared to move at the first sign of danger. The Force remained quiet upon the matter as Calenhad began to shift nervously. The Kel Dor took a deep breath to steady himself and immediately began to cough furiously. A metallic taste filled his mouth as his blood began to clog his breath mask. Calenhad focused the Force inwards, flooding it throughout his body in an attempt to purge the poison and prevent himself from drowning in his own blood.

The Kel Dor grit his teeth in frustration. The poison limited his movement and prevented him from using the Force to sense his opponent. Calenhad could hear heavy footfalls growing closer, likely his opponent coming to finish off the weakened Kel Dor. Though weakened he may be, Calenhad was not dead yet. His opponent was rushing him in an offensive maneuver and would most likely utilize some type of downward slash. With his vision gone and the Force focused on the poison coursing within him all Calenhad could do was guess at the incoming trajectory of his opponents saber. The Kel Dor angled his saber downward toward his right foot. He placed his left foot forward and prepared to intercept his opponents attack. He waited a moment, then another before pivoting and swinging his blade diagonally left with all the power he could muster. His arms shook as the momentum from Fenrir’s Force augmented blow came to a stop. Wasting no time, Calenhad let go of his saber with his left hand and grabbed the Shistavanen’s shoulder. Drawing on the pain of the poison coursing through his veins Calenhad poured Force Lightning into his opponent through his Shock Glove. Fenrir twitched and howled as the electricity burned through his nervous system.

Calenhad smirked triumphantly behind his mask before he began to cough up blood. By using the Lightning on his opponent the Kel Dor left his body wide open to the ravaging of the poison. Calenhad fell to his knees as he struggled to breath through the growing pool of blood within his lungs. He immediately refocused the Force on purging the excess blood. The Kel Dor had a sinking feeling that this was the end. His body felt bloated and the Force felt sluggish and slippery, like oil slipping through his fingers. He didn’t want to die so early, to a mere acolyte in an empty training hall. There was still so much to discover about the galaxy. His body seized in pain and began to convulse upon the floor. His shaking hands reached upwards and tore his breath mask from his face. He gasped in pain and pleasure, tasting oxygen for the first time in his short life. He released his breath and all was still.

His eyes felt as if they were burning up. The first time the flash came, everything went white and dizzy. Calendon had no idea whether he was standing or falling. He cupped his hands over his eyes, and while he was doing so his elbow brushed against the tough floor.

Kark it! How did I end up down here?

Even in this situation, even through all that pain, he could feel something else was wrong. Something really, really bad. Something that he is not ready for, and something which despite all his love for pain will harm him still.

A little distance away, Fenrir stood smirking with his breath mask on. He kept his distance back there as the live dioxis grenade he tossed at his opponent was nicely spewing forth poisonous air. And with his opponent’s inability to see momentarily, Fenrir was confident of victory. The problem was that he forgot a very important thing. He was even more shocked when, as soon as the gas started coming out, it was sucked in by special vents in the floor!

Fenrir growled, half in anger and half in confusion.

A voice came from out of nowhere, that which they both heard. It was the Trainer who was undoubtedly overseeing the match. Fenrir had no idea who it was, but the male voice said, “No killing in this room! Which part of “no killing” did you not understand?”

By this time, Calendon was back on his feet as well and faced Fenrir once more. However, still feeling disoriented from the flash, he was reluctant to begin anew. For once, Fenrir did not press the matter. After all, there’s the “no killing rule”! Where’s the fun in that?