The day, for young Averii, started with a scream. A cacophany of them, actually, as Irken burnt Irken with plasma hellfire. His eyes shot open, and he gripped his control sticks tightly as the bay doors creaked open, reverberating throughout the flight deck. Outside lay the hell he was hearing as well as a good amount of stray, silent fire, save for when the ship impacted anything.

"Flight 059, cleared for launch." The control brain droned. "Flight objective is general defense of battle group. Good-bye." He took a breath, then another as he waited for the inevitable as his engines reached full power. Then, with a click, the Mag-Lock disengaged, and he gunned the thrusters, soaring out the bay in his vertical crescent of a ship.

Only when he finally left the confines of the bay did he realize just how much gunfire there was.

The Viral Tank's plasma cannons worked feverishly with the smaller laser turrets as all manner of torpedo fire streaked towards it, and small groups of fighter craft attempted to make a run on the transport. Laser and plasma fire streaked left and right as each attempted to hit the other, with more hostile fighters, painted grey and blue, taking hits as they burst into flame. Unfortunately for him, he noted, the firepower was focused on the 'head' of the Viral Tank, and not the armored shell of the engine, or the two bays that jutted out below it. That said, not ten seconds after they streaked away from the bay did he get tracer warnings.

"Break!" He shouted, his hands yanking hard on the stick as he eyed the torpedoes that followed. A trio of missiles broke from the pack towards the three Spittle Runners. Simple, cylindrical, and fast, it worked to correct it's course as it's siblings went after the other two other in his group, or slammed into the left bay of the Viral Tank. For a moment, he stared in shock as he hurtled away from the burning ship, a chain reaction rippling through it in silence. Each one was massive, and contained massive numbers of Irkens in turn. However, he was jolted into focus when the tracer warning beeped again, increasing in pitch as the cylindrical missile closed.

Eyeing an inbound trio of Shuvvers- Compact, insectoid ships built around the central laser 'eyes' -he threw the stick left and pulled back, pointing himself perpendicular to them as he deactivated his inertial dampeners. This allowed him to 'glide'; In space, this was merely deactivating the systems that adjusted for real physics, allowing said physics to take over.
"Lek, Mit!" He barked. "Point yourselves at the Shuvvers, we can lose the seekers on them!" Acknowledgement lights beeped, and his sensors displayed them doing so. That said, he also saw his missile gaining, and slammed thrusters to maximum once more. The missile sailed past, it's velocity too great to adjust, and it began to come around once more as his engines propelled him on a collision course with the leading ship of the Shuvver wedge, coming in from their left. Glancing at the missile, he could just attempt to shoot the thing out of the sky with his onboard weapons, though, he noted, he himself would likely be lit up if he tried to light the missile up, as he focused back at the enormous battle around them.

While his ship was only the size of the 'eye' of the Shuvver, it was fast, and soon he streaked towards the lead ship from below- where none of the four main armor plates protected it. He fired his maneuvering thrusters a few times, cutting the main one as he adjusted his trajectory and tried to guide the seeker on an irreversible course. Widening the range of the sensors, he spotted his two partners plus their respective missiles. His mouth ran dry when he realized that Mit- his orange-eyed friend who he knew for his affinity with explosives -had failed to outrun the missile. Things went quiet around him, the increasing pitch of the tracer warning fading.
"Move! Change course!" He shouted desperately; but it was too little, too late. The missile detonated, and he could only watch and listen as plasma-fire engulfed the protruding engine and detonated the crescent-shaped ship, which vented oxygen and all manner of things explosively. Mit was screaming all the way until the escape pod within the ship's shell was breached. The entire process took just about five seconds, but he stared for a bit longer. "Damn it," He muttered sadly, and went back to the task at hand.

"Mit's down, but I'm on course for the left one's fuel pod!" Lek's voice crackled, obscured by static. Averii pressed the acknowledgement stud, too focused on tuning his course for the crew section of his target to reply. It would be tricky, but he was itching for that hit.
"When you're certain the missile can't pull off in time, reengage your dampeners and get out!" He hissed. "We'll come back around for a second pass if needed!" He fired his main engines and accelerated, waiting until all the possible angles the missile could go to evade the Shuvver were gone, and counted down as he spiraled beneath the leftmost Shuvver.
"Stay on target!" Lek whispered hoarsely; Ave wasn't sure if it was to him, or himself, but he didn't have time to wonder. He began to mentally count as the Missile and Shuvver closed.

Five.
The cockpit's collision alarm went off, joining the tracer alarm's increase in pitch.
Four.
He aimed himself at an optimum abort angle.
Three.
He crossed his fingers, hoping for the best.
Two.
He took a breath.
One.
He let it out.
Zero.
He slammed the throttle forward as he reactivated the dampeners, and sailed away as he barely missed the grey-blue plating. Meanwhile, the Missile, lacking sentience or dampeners, continued along it's trajectory, slamming through and detonating inside the Shuvver as it was blown off course to the right- straight into it's rightmost wingman. They both detonated in a firey ball of wreckage, plasma, and whatever else onboard, and carried on towards the burning Viral tank he had launched from.
Turning around, he spotted the result of his work, and witnessed the a chain of explosions as Lek completed his own mission.
A chain reaction began, as the starboard fuel tank was ruptured and detonated, hurling one of the upper plates away as the explosions continued to the engine, disabling the craft as Lek arced out from behind.
"Two down, and one for Mit." Lek's voice said, somber as the disabled craft tumbled away from the fused, burning hulk of the other two. "A nice few kills." Then, everything went dark.

/VR-S-019485
/COMPLETE
/ONE LOSS

Ave groaned in annoyance, the virtual starscape and his ship gone, replaced by green text. Two birds with one stone, he mentally noted; the Shuvvers were probably his objective for that scenario after he disposed of the missiles. "Next." He muttered to himself, the machine loading up the next part of the assessment; a combat arena. He sucked in air, preparing for the next challenge; in the military, one had to be ready for almost anything.

/VR-S-001081
/LOADED
/INITIALIZE

The text faded, and the room went black. Recognizing that the simulation was ready, he shut his eyes, took a breath, then opened them again.

This time he was in a plain, metal colosseum. Before him lay a standard collapsed Shock-Spear, and to his left stood his two shorter companions, already armed.
"Took you long enough." Mit grunted. He was the shortest of the three, and the stockiest, being built rather wide compared to most Irkens. He held the spear like a rifle, his size against him in this particular test. Ave smiled a bit, relieved to see his friend again; the simulators were effective at immersion, he'd give them that.
"Save it, Mit." Lek muttered, the thin, green-eyed Irken eyeing the metal box that was between them and the other groups. He was a bit shorter than Ave, with about half his height being his rather tall head. His shock-spear was held horizontally against his chest. They had trained in this particular location before. A circular colosseum, two hundred meters wide, with a single barrier- the box -in the center. Combatants emerged from four points, their paths creating an even cross when walking straight at the box.

Ave walked forward, and grasped the spear, activating and extending it, and twirling it once as he felt the weight; just right. Each iteration of the Shock-Spear was similar; a point to conduct an electrical shock at each end, with an ambidextrous handgrip in the center and most of the components towards the top of the spear. Most were collapsible, and most featured the blades on the end. Theirs were no different, and they also happened to be his weapon of choice. He would've liked some armor, though, instead of the cadet uniforms, looking disappointingly at his own clothes; collar, stubby little pauldrons, a black, sleeveless tunic, and the jumpsuit beneath.
"I'm ready, how about you?" He slammed the end into the 'soil' at his feet, a small spark going up. At least whoever they fought wouldn't have armor. The two nodded, and tensed up, eyeing the field with anticipation in unison with Averii.
About twenty seconds later, a horn sounded and they sprinted out. To the left he saw three figures heading towards the other side, and to his right he saw three sprinting towards his group. With a grin, he leapt forward.

First he feinted a swing towards a short, red-eyed male who was running ahead, and as predicted, they moved to dodge it. With a roar, he brought the blade up into their side and the smaller male screeched as the sharp cutter raked his flesh, discharging electricity that would've plain knock-out a human; however, these were Irkens, and relatively little of his opponent's translucent pink blood spilt as he recoiled from the shock.
The short one hissed, and crouched as he clutched at his side. With a growl, a mechanical spike- a PAK's spiderleg -flew towards his face as he pulled away, and he barely moved out of the way as it drove itself into the dirt.

"Fool!" He bellowed, surprisingly loud too for such a short being. "You dare? You DARE?!" The smeet-high Irken clutched his hand into a fist, shaking it in rage as he pursued Ave towards the box, climbing up on the stilt-like legs as he tried to impale him.
"Yes, I do dare!" He grinned, using his own PAK-legs as he shoved himself beneath the zealous cadet. With a sweep of his spear, he shredded half of his combatant's robotic legs, and they toppled to the side with a yelp.
"Eat DOOM!" They shouted back. "ZIM's doom!" Dropping down, he collapsed into a roll, and stabbed forth with the spear in his rage, teeth grit. However, Ave was already out of his range, and aimed the dual blades down at the surprised cadet. The blade went deep this time, his opponent screeching for but a second as the spear's circuits, properly cranked up, fried him and boiled his blood; not a moment later, his body dissolved, the zealous cadet eliminated.

Not wasting a moment, Ave glanced towards the grunts and hisses his partners emitted as they battled against the other two from his first kill's group, and spotted the two beset by near-identical Irkens; both tall as he, one red, one purple. Purple, as he designated him, assailing Mit, and Red attacking Lek; no one else had thought to use their PAK yet, apparently.

He hurtled towards Purple first as Mit did what he could to hold him off, and aimed specifically for the PAK-to-Irken connection. With a roar, he shoved the blade deep, and the Irken spasmed wordlessly before dissolving.
"Thank you," Mit breathed, his face cut a bit. Ave nodded, then turned to Red, launching again- only to be batted aside by his PAK wordlessly as he disarmed Lek before running him through with his own spear. Ave looked up, and glimpsed Lek's shocked face as he dissolved, before Red turned to him with a smirk on his face.
"You jerk." He muttered to himself. Bolting up, Ave grasped his spear tightly, the two making eye contact for a moment.
Then, with a growl, Mit, comically short compared to the taller Irken, suddenly leaped at him, and sent the spear through his gut. Red then faded with a swear as Ave burst into a fit of short-lived laughter. A human may have made a comparison of David versus Goliath.

As Ave quieted himself, however, he noticed the arena grow quiet, save for some footsteps behind him. Mit's mouth moved, a sound slowly coming out as Ave turned, and only just as she leaped did Ave spot the blue-eyed female coming at him like a missile. In the instant he had, Ave's mind acted on instinct, and he dove at her, and they sailed past each-other silently. For a second, time froze as he turned, spotting her spear stuck in Mit's face as he dissolved.
"NO!" He hissed in rage, the the female frowning in disgust at the remaining gore. They stared for a moment. Then, it all went quickly as something struck his arm, and it suddenly was absent; gone, not there, as pain crackled down his spine, a boot pressed into it as well as he tumbled forward. His face met the dirt rather softly, considering the weight of the foot's owner. He looked to the spear in his left hand, the blade of a shockspear slamming into the dirt beside his head as another feminine voice laughed. Defeated, he tossed the weapon aside.
"I'm done." He sighed. Then, things went dark again.

/VR-S-001081
/FAILURE
/COMPLETE LOSS
/EXIT

"Dookie." He growled, disconnecting himself from the VR headsets, the space within the pod lightening as panels turned a luminescent white. The simulator retracted connections that snaked into his PAK as he turned to exit the spherical pod, and as he keyed the door open, to his right, Mit and Lek waited.
"Didn't see the other girl, did you?" Mit grunted. Ave nodded nonchalantly, striding towards the simulator room's exit as others exited, their sessions over. They walked in step, as they had for years.
"Figures you'd be killed by a Girl, Ave," Lek began, checking a dataslate for today's cafeteria menu. "You don't look at them enough." Mit chuckled a bit, and he scoffed at Lek.

In their office, the Training Overseers filed through the videos quickly. It was their jobs to assess, and assess they did, going through the day's highlights as brought up by the control brain. Today, overseer 09205 took a particular interest in the twelfth class. Specifically, a cadet designated A-1-22-16-66.

"Computer, replay performance footage, and relay cadet reactions." He droned, having pulled in one of his fellow overseers for an opinion. "As you likely recognize, this is the standard Missile Evasion scenario." His partner nodded.
"Yes, so what?" The shorter overseer adjusted his goggles, moving in closer to the screen as the light reflected off of them. "You didn't bring me over just to go over the simulations again, did you, Vit?" He shook his head.
"No, watch. So they launch out of the bay," He traced his finger along the path the particular cadet took, "And immediately the tracers are deployed." On cue, the missiles appeared from the edge of the camera, streaking after their targets.

"Cut to the chase." The younger one grunted.
"This Cadet in particular," He pointed at the screen and his respective ship as it banked, an indicator displaying the simulated dampeners shut down, "Instead of trying to shoot down the missiles, he got his group to start gliding the missiles on a path into the Shuvvers." He nodded.
"Clever. What about it?" He adjusted his arms, propping himself up with his legs as he eyed the screens.

"There. You see how long he's distracted when shorty bites the dust?" He pointed at the reaction camera.
"Ah, he got distracted. What about it?" His partner asked.
"This smeet can pull all the tricks he wants, but if he starts getting distracted like that, he'll get people killed. Computer, fast forward a few seconds." The feed cut forward, and things started exploding violently.
"His tricks are pretty effective, though." He noted. 09205 nodded in agreement.
"Exactly. Computer, Arena Scenario, a few seconds before it ended for the cadet." The screen cut to the cadet in question, caught up in the humor of the shorter one's kill. Behind him, a purple-eyed and blue-eyed pair ran.

"Here, he's distracted again, and loses his buddy because of it. Then, he loses his right arm." He winced a bit as the limb flew off, the purple-eyed female ready to skewer him as she planted him into the dirt.
"Did he just give up? Surrendered?" His partner asked incredulously. He nodded.
"I think we should have a talk. Get the shock-flail."