Alka strode into the room, rolling her shoulders and cracking her neck before dropping into a large circular pit. As she landed, a cloud of sand and dust was kicked into the air, quickly settling as she rose to her full five foot six height. Across from her, another woman stood, wearing heavy foreign looking armor. It looked heavy, with thick plates, and flared pauldrons. Alka grinned, her eyes transfixed on the helm of her opponent. Bright lights and colors swirled across the face plate, the rest a smooth metallic dome that fitted over her opponents head.
"Are you ready, Alka?" The figured asked with a feminine, but muffled, voice.
Alka responded by first drawing both swords, then held them in front of her. She grinned, her eyes glinting with excitement.
"Ready as I'll ever be, Striker." Without further warning, Alka darted across the space, quickly closing the gap between them with a wide swing. The stranger leaned back, spinning slightly as she attempted to throw an electrified punch at Alka. The Orcish woman spun sideways, flipping parallel to the ground before landing. Striker stood straight, her arms now coursing with electrical energy. "Smooth. Don't remember you ever being to flexible." Alka grinned, slamming the blades into the ground and kicking up a dust cloud. "Too bad your fancy helmet doesn't let you see through this!"
A moment later, the dust is suddenly blown away as a concussive blast rocketed out from the center of the pit. Alka and Striker stood still, face to face. Alka's blades bit into Striker's left gauntlet, with Striker's right fist cocked back. A grunt, followed by slow steps back from each other, and the strain disappeared. Alka laughed as she set both swords in their sheaths. Striker reached up, hitting a button on the side of her helm, causing it to disappear in a flash of light.
"Good fight, Striker. Definitely getting better." Alka stated as the two clasped hands and pulled each other face to face. Striker's face was a vaguely blueish shade, that leached into black around the edges. Her purple eyes shone with a strange light as a grin spread across her face. Her hair stood straight up in a mohawk, dyed a bright purple.
"Well, I have a good teacher." She stated, their hands releasing as the two take a step back. "I can only hope to live up to his name someday." Striker shook her head, her eyes closed for a moment.
"You know, I've been meaning to ask, why call yourself Striker Fourteen?" The orc sat on a nearby bench after they climbed out of the pit, looking up at the already much larger woman.
"Saint-14. A hell of a Titan." Striker smiled, her head leaned back as she peered up through a skylight at the star-lit sky above. "Disappeared some time ago after trying to follow an old Warlock named Osiris to Mercury. Never returned. No one knew what happened to him . . ." Her voice trailed off as she wiped her eyes. "Well, until the Hero of the Red War found him . . . He died on Mercury, fighting Vex until his last breath. They striped him of his light, forced him to fight them without it." Her fist suddenly lashed out, slamming into the wall violently and leaving behind a large crater. "He died in their blasted Infinite Forest. Alone and Lightless."
Alka stood slowly, and pulled Striker into her arms for a tight hug. After a moment, Striker stepped back, shaking her head, then walked off, leaving her compatriot alone.