Sparring
Strike, another strike...
She loved practice drills like these. When you didn't have to think - only react and hit, hit and hit again. Venting anger, fury, rage... weakness...
The woman pursed her lips and executed a succession of quick blows, then stroke the dummy with a sharp blow in the spleen and turned round, wiping the sweat off her brow. And froze right there and then.
Leaning on the doorway of their small practice room, with his arms crossed as per usual, was Vik himself. He was watching her - with that very same unnerving smirk on his face.
She felt the rage that almost passed by return and make a camp.
- You need anything? - she inquired with one brow raised.
Vik flashed her a grin:
- Not at all boss. I was just, ehem, admiring the lever of your skill. Sir.
She almost felt the veiled mockery creep on her skin, and clenched her fist tight, feeling nails dig in.
- Oh, you don't say? I'm flattered. Though your skill isn't much lower I'm sure.
Now it was Weequay's turn to raise an eyebrow:
- Mmhhm, si-ir, was that an invitation?..
A moment's shock washed over her, as she stood not quite believing her ears.
Oh yes, ohhh yes-yes-yes, oh Great Force or whatever there is thank you, for giving me this one chance - ohhh, she was sooo going to use it!
She felt her mouth widen in a grin:
- You could take it as such.
Weequay blinked just once, but then took a hold of himself and returned the grin right back:
- I'm on my way, si-ir...
Hell yes. She felt a sheer excitement, a dark kind of excitement for finally getting what she wanted - a chance to beat this bastard's face, and if she makes a bloody pulp of it all the better... She smirked in anticipation, watching closely as the Weequay stepped on the mattresses, and beckoned him closer. Oh yes, come here you bloody son of a rancor, it will be my pleasure to pay you back - for every smirk, every taunt, every second you've been exploiting my weakness... I'm so gonna pay it all back a hundredfold, just you wait, I'll have your scalp for everything you've done to me...
Vik cracked his knuckles, bared his teeth in a sneer and slid forward. She parred, dodged, hit his unguarded side - met a block, then the Weequay attacked and threw her aside. Block, attack, sweep, hack - with a chilling rage came the feeling of his smirk drilling into the back of her head... the bastard wrung her arm in a tight hack, and his mocking voice flown right into her ear:
- Is this all you've got, si-ir?..
The rage had risen. This... this bloody bastard had the nerve to use that one advantage he had!.. That's it, you ain't leaving this room alive, you bloody Weequay, I will make you choke on your own words...
She slumped in his hands - just enough to give the opponent the illusion of a victory. Clearly satisfied, the Weequay decided to seal the win by teasingly skimming a stray hand over her body, as if by a blind chance... With a dark grin she bent over, threw his hands off and attacked - and like a furious lightning she came crushing down, pushing her body to the limits. If anything, she could expertly use the minute advantages her race had to offer...
No doubt they were an odd pair in a potential observer's eyes. One tall, square-built Weequay and one seemingly fragile Mirialan. But despite the height and weight difference, the girl had an upper hand thanks to her agility, dodging and avoiding the Weequay's attacks. It was a fair fight at first - but as it went on, the girl seemed to get lost in the heat completely. The pace became much faster, and her blows so much more deadly. Weequay wasn't flat-out losing per se, but he was obviously taken aback by the aggression - and that, in the end, caused him to lose the lead.
It was too late by then.
Strike, block, strike... Her clenched fist flew straight into his face, and she felt a sadistic pleasure to feel something break under her knuckles. One more strike... uh, block this, then a fake strike... hit him in the ribs, then the knee to... a shame he dodged and got his groin covered... now duck his fist, slide aside, another strike and a sweep...
Got you!
Weequay was too slow to react when the flood met him face first. She was already above her opponent, wringing his arm painfully.
- You're dead meat... - she drawled into his ear.
Utter joy came flooding as she heard his muffled curses. She waited a few patient second to confirm his defeat, and let go, massaging her bruised knuckles. Weequay sat up, hissing in pain and wiping the blood off his face - oh, so that crack wasn't her imagination...
Ahhh, the joy, pure ecstasy... A weightlessness settles upon her heart, as if a heavy burden was taken off it. Ohhh, yes... enjoy all you want boy, but it's my triumph today...
Vik measured her up thoughtfully and spoke in a hoarse voice:
- My compliments are in order, boss. I must admit I didn't expect it, but you managed to catch me off guard.
She bared her teeth in a wide grin:
- Havoc Squad accepts only the best soldiers. Its only natural that the commander will be the best among the best, - she turned around to go, but in the doorway glanced back, - Oh yeah, sorry about your nose. I guess... I've got a little carried away.
There were no words to describe the look on the Weequay's face. He wiped it right away - but she had just enough seconds to witness the intoxicating mixture of surprise, shock, admiration and heavens know what else.
She will have to cherish the memory of it for the rest of her life. Yeah, most definitely.
Dorne, that she met in the corridor, had all but fell down stumbling:
- Sir?!.. Did anything happen, sir?
She beamed a happy grin:
- Oh, not at all. Everything is... great. Just... great.