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 available 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 Loadout for the match itself. Skill usage and all other ACC rules and guidelines still applies.]

Titius strode into the hall, looking more bedraggled than a poorly brushed Tauntaun. It had been more than a few Standard rotations since he had last removed his armor, much less showered and he was looking the part. Stepping on to the sparring mat, he left sooty prints across the surface as he stalked to the weapon racks.

“Stow this…grab a shower…raid the Medbay for a restock…then”

Titius paused, suddenly aware of something staring at him. Whirling around, he came to face a fuzzy grey creature, its beady little eyes drilling into his.

“What do you want, putrid fur carpet? I am busy.”

“Yaa-yaah!” responded the creature. It began to prattle on at Titius and gestured intently at the weapons racks behind. It paused, adopted a look of disdain then spoke in a heavy accent.

“You are kisa dueling opponent, den? You are late and I do not appreciate people wasting my time. I have better things to do.”

“You are Work’t? Not likely. Now get lost, fuzzface.”

“Den”

Titius exhaled forcefully, infuriated at this creature for standing between him and the hot showers across the room. Reaching instinctively for his waist, Titius drew out a canister emblazoned with warnings and sigils. As he reached for the pin, Work’t raised his hands and furrowed his brow. The canister flew out of Titius’ grasp. Stunned for a moment, Titus then let out an exasperated howl and drew out his vibrostaff.

“Now you've done it, filthy Force slave.” he said as the staff crackled to life. "Time to teach you a little lesson in manners"

Work’t smiled, drawing his lightsaber.

“Oh very nice. It will be a shame when that staff is in pieces. Maybe Ill fix it for you!”

The only response was a growl as Titius lunged at the Ewok.

Work’t ignited the lightsaber as the titanic Human came rushing towards him, the metal surfaces of the arena bathing the two in red light the blades reflected. Reaching out with a hex he had been preparing since he saw the midnight-clad freak, he unleashed the Force into the comm system of Titus’ armour, flooding his hearing with the audio sensors in the hanger bay. The sensors where a cargo-8 shuttle was permanently running engine tests for a very real, and definitely not invented, fuel flow issue.

The Human only showed a moment of weakness but it was all a skilled lightsaber duellist needed to beat through a man who had clearly never focused on staffs in training, to slam a blade though his core and leave him for dead.

Unfortunately, Work’t was an amateur and while Titus was just as poor with his staff, Work’t had not anticipated the legendary power of the Boot To Face. Slammed back across the arena, nose flooding, Work’t reached out and slid a sparring mat under himself. The landing sent shocks up his back but he reached within himself with the force, the Ewok muffled the pain and rose back up onto his paws.

“You fight cub way, all limb, no talent.” The Ewok taunted, dragging his lightsaber back to his hand. Titus, for his part completely deaf to this, reached to his comm system and disabled it.

“Pathetic trick, slave.” He growled, Deluge drawing naturally into his hands as he slammed a barrage of bolts toward the Ewok from across the room. Rolling and slamming the three training dummies together awkwardly to make a shield, the Ewok began to wonder if he’d bit off more than he could chew. Eyeing the blade rack, he began to reach out with the force as his cover continued to shake.

The clip ran dry, the sudden silence more jarring than the previous racket. Work’t tentatively poked his head above the burned dummies to see Titius stood still, trigger hand twitching. Titius’ gaze was firmly fixed on the signage overhead stating No Explosions. Work’t dashed out, intent in taking advantage of the obvious distraction. Bringing his newly acquired blade to bear, the little Ewok pushed his legs as fast as possible.

Titius snapped his gaze downward as the vibroblade slashed downward. Switching stance, he brought the barrel of his rifle into a block. The blade screamed as it contacted, scoring a deep gouge in the stock as it stuck in. Titius pivoted, wrenching the blade out of Work’ts grip and throwing both weapons aside.

“That is your best? Try again.” Titius grasped both shoulders of the ewok, following through with a knee strike. Work’t coughed as the air left his lungs. Titius heaved the winded form away Work’t fought to catch his breath. Rising to all fours, he sucked a deep breath to recover. Wiping away tears from the pain, he watched as his opponent stalked over to a weapon rack. Spinning around, Titius now held a vibrowhip.

“Stand up, Sith” The whip snapped to accentuate the point. Work’t gingerly rose to his feet.

“I yield” His voice trembled as he tried to put on a stoic front.

“Sorry…I couldnt hear you” Titius stepped closer, snaking the whip along the mat.

“I YIELD” Work’t yelled before falling into a coughing fit.

“How disappointing…” Titius sneered, pulling his helmet off.

Work’t launched the blades across the room, sending a counter-deluge of blades toward the man. A few even nicked off his armour, grating over it and scaring the paint. Without clear sight on his target though the Ewok’s attack was blunted significantly by a lack of information.

Titus was no fool, however, and started circling the Ewok’s position, forcing him to scuttle around. The Ewok slammed a dummy toward the man, who dodged it deftly and kept up his fire. The Ewok took another hit, this time the left arm, and staggered back in pain. Titus raised his rifle to deliver the kill shot, pulled the trigger.

Click!

Work’t, realising how dire his situation had become, screamed “Yub Nub!” Then he ran in, lightsaber swinging. His uncoordinated swing towards the Privateer’s face was dodged effortlessly and the Equite slammed his arm under his opponents armpit and yanked the arm out of it’s socket, before disarming him. Literally.

With a dismissive swing, the Human simply sliced the short Ewok’s functional arm clean off, before kicking the Ewok in the face again, casting him to the deck. The arena’s alarms rang loudly, signalling a match end, another victory for the mercenary’s tally. He looked down with dismissive hatred.

“If I could end you here, I would. Your kind are a taint upon the galaxy, and I would see you all expunged.” He stepped back as the medical team yanked the broken creature up and threw the lightsaber aside dismissively.

“Now they’ll be definitely watching the medical bay supplies…” He sighed deeply. “I hate Primedays.”