Lt Vylaa zh'Tisav: Andorian Calisthenics
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Andrew B
Nov 10, 2024, 4:54:13 PM11/10/24
to Gorkon IC
((The Core, Nassau, Ma no Umi))
The name was a bit of a misnomer. There was no core. Not anymore. It had long ago been mined away for the rich ores it contained. What ws left was a vast, nearly spherical cavern nearly big enough to house several starships. But it was empty.
Mostly.
The asteroids spin afforded the Core it’s own, mostly stable level of gravity. Things stuck to the walls. And so it was that here was where the finest military traditions of the Andorian Imperial Guard continued despite the Borg.
Vylaa stood in the midst of a troop of Guards. She’d been invited to join in with some training, which she had accepted. Some time ago some intrepid engineers had installed lighting across a large swath of the wall, forming a huge training ground for the Andorians.
zh'Culna: Are you sure you can keep up?
Jhavao zh'Culna… Vylaa had known her as Riv’s XO, and as a friend. But here, she commanded her own patrol vessel. Her face was scarred, and a Borg implant pierced her cheek. She hailed from the Culna, a keth of warriors with a contentious past. Once known as the Ucalnath, most had opposed the Federation and gone underground, becoming pirates and mercenaries. The honorable ones changed their name, and remained in society. Many had died in the Dominion War. They were good people.
Vylaa’s eyes narrowed at her comment; it wasn’t a dig at her abilities, but a challenge. One that Vylaa would not turn down.
zh’Tisav: I can handle myself, can you?
The other zhen pulled on her pack, ready for a run to warm up.
zh’Culna: Oh, I can. Let’s see how soft you’ve gotten, living among the Pinkskins.
She started her run, with Vylaa and the troop of Andorians falling in behind her.
((10 Miles Later))
zh’Culna finally stopped at an outcropping of ore somehow left behind by the mining operations and dropped her pack. Most of the Andorians found seats on the outcropping, fishing waterbottles and rations from their packs. The two zhens stayed standing. Jhavao regarded Vylaa with a look of smugness.
zh’Culna: You hold up well for someone from… wherever you’re from. The Pinkskins haven’t made you soft. Well, mostly.
zh’Tisav: I’m sure Commander th'Viannis told you where I’m from.
zh’Culna: He did. I don’t believe him.
zh’Tisav: Really? That big ship shows up, that no one’s seen the class of, and you don’t believe it? Full of people wearing a Starfleet uniform that no one’s seen before? You still don’t believe where we’re from? It’s right in front of your eyes.
zh’Culna: ::Bristling:: Are you calling me a fool?
Vylaa shrugged out of her pack and dropped it to the ground. She could use a drink of water about now.
zh’Tisav: No. Foolhardy, maybe. Definitely stubborn, but then the Jha I knew from my timeline was the same way. Hells, I’m a copy of someone you know to be assimilated! ::She caught some of the soldiers glancing her way:: Everywhere I go I’m either getting looks of sympathy or shock. If that doesn’t convince you, maybe you are a fool.
Jhavao regarded Vylaa for a moment, a frown glinting in her eyes. Any Guards still standing slowly backed away, leaving the two zhens alone in a big open space. zh’Culna’s hand went to her thigh, where a sheathed ushan-tor was strapped. She lifted the weapon, making it glint in the orange artificial lights illuminating this section of the cavern.
zh’Culna: I think it’s time for some real training. Let’s see what they teach you in your “timeline.”
Vylaa shrugged out of her jacket, dropping the black and mustard-yellow fabric beside her pack. She lifted the back of her tank top to extract her own ushaan-tor from it’s sheath. It would be a tough fight. Anyone who thought your average Andorian was a rage-fueled fighter with a knife fetish had not met someone from Keth Culna...
The two fighters began circling each other, weapons raised and feet carefully moving across the rock. Neither could afford to take their eyes from the other to look where they were stepping. Their orbits slowly shrunk as they each took careful swings, feinting to test each others range.
zh’Culna leapt forward, her blade arcing across the space between them. This was no feint; Vylaa had to lean back to avoid the worst of it, yet still she felt the ushan-tor slice across her chest. Vylaa struck forward, missing but still sending Jhavao ducking sideways.
zh’Tisav: Dammit, I liked this shirt!
As they began circling each other, the zhen could already feel the blood trickling down toward her navel. Jhavao had an advantage in training, but Vylaa’s height gave her an advantage in reach. As long as she could keep within her own reach, but outside of Jhavao’s she stood a chance.
An outside observer would think the two zhen’s were trying to kill each other, striking and parrying until both were nicked from head to toe. But it was how advanced combatants trained. One didn’t learn to fight with toy knives, you needed a sense of the danger. And they both knew how to pull punches, so to speak. Never once was any wound life threatening, and if they had been they would stop.
Think of it as Andorian calisthenics.
zh’Culna: You’re good. Just not…
She feinted left, then leapt forward. Vylaa ducked, her right antenna instinctively folding flat across her head as Jhavao’s blade whistled past.
So apparently the other zhen wasn’t above playing dirty…
Jahvao’s mistake was she had to reach up to do it, opening herself up. Vylaa struck with a left hook, then a sweep of the legs. In seconds she was straddling the other zhen, knees pinning her arms. The fingers of her left hand entwined in Jhavao’s short white hair, pulling up while the flat of her blade pressed against her throat.
zh’Tisav: Yield.
Jhavao struggled. She cast her eyes about, seeking help from the Guards surrounding them, but none moved forward. Finally her eyes begrudgingly met Vylaa’s.
zh’Culna: I yield.
Vylaa stood. She was tired, and doubted she could have lasted much longer. She regarded Jhavao for a moment, then offered a hand to help her up while two medics approched, dermal regenerators already out.
zh’Tisv: It’s been a while since I’ve had a decent workout. Holograms are too safe and no one wants to actually fight me.
zh’Culna: I can see why. You’re not bad. Could be better. Tactical drones are fast, but you could hold your own.
zh’Tisav: So, do you believe me now?
zh’Culna: Well, I wouldn’t go quite that far…
zh’Tisav: ::Sighs:: Oh well. Got any glikar'ma to fight?
Fin
The name was a bit of a misnomer. There was no core. Not anymore. It had long ago been mined away for the rich ores it contained. What ws left was a vast, nearly spherical cavern nearly big enough to house several starships. But it was empty.
Mostly.
The asteroids spin afforded the Core it’s own, mostly stable level of gravity. Things stuck to the walls. And so it was that here was where the finest military traditions of the Andorian Imperial Guard continued despite the Borg.
Vylaa stood in the midst of a troop of Guards. She’d been invited to join in with some training, which she had accepted. Some time ago some intrepid engineers had installed lighting across a large swath of the wall, forming a huge training ground for the Andorians.
zh'Culna: Are you sure you can keep up?
Jhavao zh'Culna… Vylaa had known her as Riv’s XO, and as a friend. But here, she commanded her own patrol vessel. Her face was scarred, and a Borg implant pierced her cheek. She hailed from the Culna, a keth of warriors with a contentious past. Once known as the Ucalnath, most had opposed the Federation and gone underground, becoming pirates and mercenaries. The honorable ones changed their name, and remained in society. Many had died in the Dominion War. They were good people.
Vylaa’s eyes narrowed at her comment; it wasn’t a dig at her abilities, but a challenge. One that Vylaa would not turn down.
zh’Tisav: I can handle myself, can you?
The other zhen pulled on her pack, ready for a run to warm up.
zh’Culna: Oh, I can. Let’s see how soft you’ve gotten, living among the Pinkskins.
She started her run, with Vylaa and the troop of Andorians falling in behind her.
((10 Miles Later))
zh’Culna finally stopped at an outcropping of ore somehow left behind by the mining operations and dropped her pack. Most of the Andorians found seats on the outcropping, fishing waterbottles and rations from their packs. The two zhens stayed standing. Jhavao regarded Vylaa with a look of smugness.
zh’Culna: You hold up well for someone from… wherever you’re from. The Pinkskins haven’t made you soft. Well, mostly.
zh’Tisav: I’m sure Commander th'Viannis told you where I’m from.
zh’Culna: He did. I don’t believe him.
zh’Tisav: Really? That big ship shows up, that no one’s seen the class of, and you don’t believe it? Full of people wearing a Starfleet uniform that no one’s seen before? You still don’t believe where we’re from? It’s right in front of your eyes.
zh’Culna: ::Bristling:: Are you calling me a fool?
Vylaa shrugged out of her pack and dropped it to the ground. She could use a drink of water about now.
zh’Tisav: No. Foolhardy, maybe. Definitely stubborn, but then the Jha I knew from my timeline was the same way. Hells, I’m a copy of someone you know to be assimilated! ::She caught some of the soldiers glancing her way:: Everywhere I go I’m either getting looks of sympathy or shock. If that doesn’t convince you, maybe you are a fool.
Jhavao regarded Vylaa for a moment, a frown glinting in her eyes. Any Guards still standing slowly backed away, leaving the two zhens alone in a big open space. zh’Culna’s hand went to her thigh, where a sheathed ushan-tor was strapped. She lifted the weapon, making it glint in the orange artificial lights illuminating this section of the cavern.
zh’Culna: I think it’s time for some real training. Let’s see what they teach you in your “timeline.”
Vylaa shrugged out of her jacket, dropping the black and mustard-yellow fabric beside her pack. She lifted the back of her tank top to extract her own ushaan-tor from it’s sheath. It would be a tough fight. Anyone who thought your average Andorian was a rage-fueled fighter with a knife fetish had not met someone from Keth Culna...
The two fighters began circling each other, weapons raised and feet carefully moving across the rock. Neither could afford to take their eyes from the other to look where they were stepping. Their orbits slowly shrunk as they each took careful swings, feinting to test each others range.
zh’Culna leapt forward, her blade arcing across the space between them. This was no feint; Vylaa had to lean back to avoid the worst of it, yet still she felt the ushan-tor slice across her chest. Vylaa struck forward, missing but still sending Jhavao ducking sideways.
zh’Tisav: Dammit, I liked this shirt!
As they began circling each other, the zhen could already feel the blood trickling down toward her navel. Jhavao had an advantage in training, but Vylaa’s height gave her an advantage in reach. As long as she could keep within her own reach, but outside of Jhavao’s she stood a chance.
An outside observer would think the two zhen’s were trying to kill each other, striking and parrying until both were nicked from head to toe. But it was how advanced combatants trained. One didn’t learn to fight with toy knives, you needed a sense of the danger. And they both knew how to pull punches, so to speak. Never once was any wound life threatening, and if they had been they would stop.
Think of it as Andorian calisthenics.
zh’Culna: You’re good. Just not…
She feinted left, then leapt forward. Vylaa ducked, her right antenna instinctively folding flat across her head as Jhavao’s blade whistled past.
So apparently the other zhen wasn’t above playing dirty…
Jahvao’s mistake was she had to reach up to do it, opening herself up. Vylaa struck with a left hook, then a sweep of the legs. In seconds she was straddling the other zhen, knees pinning her arms. The fingers of her left hand entwined in Jhavao’s short white hair, pulling up while the flat of her blade pressed against her throat.
zh’Tisav: Yield.
Jhavao struggled. She cast her eyes about, seeking help from the Guards surrounding them, but none moved forward. Finally her eyes begrudgingly met Vylaa’s.
zh’Culna: I yield.
Vylaa stood. She was tired, and doubted she could have lasted much longer. She regarded Jhavao for a moment, then offered a hand to help her up while two medics approched, dermal regenerators already out.
zh’Tisv: It’s been a while since I’ve had a decent workout. Holograms are too safe and no one wants to actually fight me.
zh’Culna: I can see why. You’re not bad. Could be better. Tactical drones are fast, but you could hold your own.
zh’Tisav: So, do you believe me now?
zh’Culna: Well, I wouldn’t go quite that far…
zh’Tisav: ::Sighs:: Oh well. Got any glikar'ma to fight?
Fin
Lt Vylaa zh'Tisav
Chief of Engineering
USS Gorkon
C238601TB0
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