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.]

“You don’t hate me…” A sinister voice echoed through Ellac’s mind as flashes of fire and blood overtook his dreams. “You hate yourself…” The Sith gasped as he jerked himself out of his slumber, his eyeless sockets opening only to blackness.

Only weeks had passed since his other eye had been taken from him, among other thing, and he was still adjusting to life as a blind man. Well, mostly blind…

Ellac lazily pushed himself into a sitting position on the observation room couch as a chill began to creep up the back of his neck. “Noch.”

“I was wondering how long that would take you,” a gravely voice croaked from the doorway. “They should have plucked your eyes out sooner; You’re twice the man you used to be. You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” Ellac scoffed, pulling the cloth blindfold down over his vacant eyes as he rose from the sofa. “So don’t act like you were doing me a favor.”

Noc’i’cheptir’s cracked lips spread into a wide grin. “Or what, Conrat?” He hissed. “I own you.”

“Like hell you do.”

Whatever could equate to laughter for an walking Kaleesh cadaver seemed to escape out of Noch, swelling until his laughter had evolved into a full hysterical episode. “You don’t get it, do you?!” Noch jerked a hand up toward Ellac, extending his grasp through the Force as he seized control of Ellac’s cybernetics. “I didn’t just give you a body! You are my masterpiece; A canvas of bone and metal! But like every puppet-…” Yanking his hand back, Noch forced Ellac to march forward. “...-there are some strings attached.”

Ellac’s face strained into a pained grimace as he fought against the unseen force that controlled his movements. “What-... Did-... You-...,” he winced out. “I-... Can’t-...”

Noc’i’cheptir’s grin grew so wide his face looked like it might split in two at any moment. “Having trouble?” Ellac’s body followed every movement of his hand as Noch marched him out of the door of the observation room and into the main sparring area.

Releasing Ellac at the edge of the mat, the young Sith fell to his knees as he regained control of his body. “What did you do to me?!”

Noch circle around from behind Ellac, looking down on him with scaly hands folded behind his back, and his calm, lifeless composure returning to him instantly. “I told you before: I own you.”

Ellac growled at the taunting, reaching out with his senses. Having spent countless days in a medical tank, he had developed a unique acumen for teasing out details from his other inputs. The rough but doughy texture of the training mat, the feeling of the artificial ventilation wafting through the space, the dampened reverberations of the room as his tormentor talked.

Taking a deep breath through flared nostrils, Ellac brought his arms over to prop himself up. A soft whirring accompanied the movement. Pressing to his knees, Ellac froze. The air changed as a sterile scent accosted the Sith, the breeze turning warmer as he realized Noch was bent nearly cheek to cheek.

"I am so proud of you for adapting to my work." The heated breath carried into Ellac's ears. "And you are, truly, a work of art."

The words carried a solemn tone accompanied by a wave of sadness through the Force. Noch let a tear slide down unbidden as he reminisced over the fine tapestry that was Ellac. "You are so…beautiful." The Kaleesh brought himself upright in a pensive stance as Ellac roiled with rage. Leaning deep into the Force, he flipped over with outstretched arms towards Noch. Cybernetic hands turned to claws as they tore at the air in search of their prey. A dull thud sounded as one palm contacted, followed by a strained grunt from Noc’i’cheptir. Ellac squeezed with all his rage and anguish, vocalizing like a feral beast. He could see the crushing power of his claw pulverizing the flesh like rotten fruit…

Quwai

The word came out guttural and primitive, the denial ringing through the Force as evocation. The intoxicating image of crushed flesh fled from Ellac's mind as he felt his hand freeze. Fiery pain flared at his stump as the cybernetics began to rip themselves free of what remained of his arm, torn away by the overextension of muscles.

"I knew those stitches would not be strong enough…Stupid me" Noch withdrew his leg from the frozen arm, reaching down to support it before it detached from Ellac in a dribble of crimson. The stump began to flail as Ellac was lost in his fervor. Noch stepped back several steps to let Ellac lunge off the mat. "Stop yelling, you have no one to blame but yourself for this. Though this does mean I get a second try at fixation." The only response was a meaty thump as Ellac careened into an equipment stand. The Sith spun himself back towards Noc’i’cheptir. "Just stop, Ellac, for a minute. You are bleeding on the floor and missing an arm." Staring daggers, Noc'i'cheptir forced his mind at Ellac.

Calm yourself.

Like the hissing of a serpent, the words slithered through Ellac’s mind in a way that made his brain itch as a subtle shiver crept up his spine, along with the feeling that something was not quite right within himself.

“You are not thinking clearly. Let me in. Let me fix you.”

Ellac clutched his head as the silent whispers continued.

“The more you resist, the worse the pain will become. Stop fighting it.”

“No!” Ellac shouted, a splitting headache pressing in just behind his temples. “Get out of my head!”

Noc’i’cheptir took a cautious step towards his patient, his burning gaze still bearing down on the writhing human. “Submit your will to me.”

Agonized screams filled the arena chamber as Ellac felt his mind slipping out of his grasp, the rhythmic thump, thump of his heart throbbing throughout his entire body. The Battlemaster hunched forward, pressing the metal palm of his remaining hand hard against his forehead as the maddening clamor of voices threatened to tear him apart from the inside. A few more moments of thrashing and horrible howling ticked on until Ellac couldn’t fight it any longer, and in an instant, the screaming stopped, and an eerie silence fell upon the room.

Lowering his hand, the mangled Sith stoically stood back to full height. Blood still seeped from the stump that was his shoulder, but all notion of pain, panic, or even his rage had been stripped away, and in it’s place, something else had been stuffed inside.

“Ellac?” Noch said, inquisitively eyeing the man as they stood face to face.

Ellac’s voiced came calm and low. “What is thy bidding, my master?”

And now I truly broke him

Noch'i'cheptar's shoulders slumped in defeat. Huffing heavily, he wheeled the dead limb around in a wide arc. The arena rang with the metallic impact as Ellac was flung to the floor. His head lolled around like a discarded doll.

"Do I look like a Master to you? Kriff Ellac, pull yourself together!" Noch'i'cheptar wiggled his fingers in a dainty wave. A second later, a staple gun landed on his palm. Bending down, practiced motions began attaching the severed cybernetics back to its place. Each impact of the tool was reflected in a twitch of Ellac's face. Understanding flooded back to his eyes as his reattached fingers twitched. Noch'i'cheptar smiled tenderly as he finished.

"There you go. Now try to kill me…slower this time" Noch'i'cheptar gave a deep flowing bow as he backpedaled from Ellac. Once again under his own power, Ellac came to his knees then fully upright. Lifting his head, he felt out for Noch'i'cheptar through the Force. He sensed the swirling madness that the Techweaver gave off. The form seemed to grow as Ellac focused himself to its signature. Images began to seep in as Noch gently infiltrated his mind again.

"Do you see what I see, Ellac?" The images showed a blind mass of scarring and synthflesh standing tall, raising its arm towards the viewer. Force flowed as Ellac gingerly grabbed hold of the viewer and began to squeeze. The image became grainy as the viewer was forced to let go of the projection.

"Gently, I said!" An arc of castigating lightning filled the space between the two Sith. Ellac lost focus as his entire sensory system fired. The taste of iron filled his mouth.

"...but well done. Now try again."

Ellac convulsed as faint blue arcs of electricity flicked across his body, seizing up his metal parts. His head throbbed as a mixture of adrenaline and the headache pushing against the back of his vacant eye sockets pushed him to the edge. His body was failing him, and it wasn’t going to be long before it gave out completely. ‘What the hell?’ He thought. ‘I should be able to do more… Why can’t I do more?!?’ His head spun and his anger began to swell into rage. At every other time in his life, Ellac had always been able to sluff off pain and fatigue for at least a few hours, so why was his body already beginning to shut down? His chest began to heave as his rage begged to be freed, and he knew he had to do something quick.

Teeth gritted, Ellac steeled himself as he fought the rage within him back with labored breaths. His anger had always given him power, but lately, it had come at too high a cost, even for him.

A giddy smile spread across the Kaleesh’s ghoulish face, almost blissful at Ellac’s new evolution, even if it was only a preliminary step towards the finished product. “Show me your power,” he beamed, his bulging eyes somehow even wider than normal.

Reaching behind his back to his belt, Ellac’s hand found his lightsaber as his other hand engaged the fibercord whip fastened to his forearm. Knees bent and stance widened, Ellac called on the Force to strengthen his body, amplifying his jump as he lunged forward at Noc’i’cheptir. Igniting both blades, Ellac hurled his saber at his foe, simultaneously firing off the fibercord at Noch’s legs.

With a flick of his hand, Noc’i’cheptir blew the lightsaber away, but couldn’t dodge the cord as it wrapped around his legs like a bola, and Ellacing yanking him off his feet.

With a clawed hand, Ellac latched onto Noch’s throat, slamming his frail frame into the ground as hard as he could before the amplification wore off. After a brief moment of breathless silence, both men gasped as the maneuver took its toll.

Locked in position, Ellac focused on slowing his breathing, while Noch on the other hand, broke into a wheezing, gasping, cackling laughter that could put a Kowakian monkey-lizard to shame.

“Well done indeed!!!” Noc’i’cheptir coughed out between breaths. “Those staples really work, don’t they?!”

Ellac dug his claws in enough to draw blood but not enough to kill him. “You’re lucky I need you alive,” he growled, which only made Noch laugh harder, but Ellac didn’t care. His whole body pulsed with a throbbing pain, and he needed to act now. Reaching deep within himself, Ellac loosed his anger, drawing on the Dark Side to flow through him as a conduit connecting his body to Noc’i’cheptir’s life force. Like the flow of blood, thick and heavy, energy coursed through the Juggernaut’s body, healing him from the inside out as he sapped the life from the Kaleesh.

And that’s when Noc’i’cheptir’s laughter stopped.

The room went fuzzy as Ellac greedily took the life from Noc'i'cheptir.

"This is the thanks I get for the help?" came the muffled protest. "Drink deep then. We shall see how fast you are."

Practiced hands reached around Ellac as he was healing. Finding an edge, Noc'i'cheptar yanked hard upward. Ellac gasped in angony as the grafting around his chestplate tore, flensing him. The chestplate began to fill with blood as the raw nerves were dragged with torn skin. Ellac pulled harder on Noc'i'cheptar's lifeforce as the Techweaver found new edges and avulsed the flesh beneath. Blood began leaking from openings in the armor as Ellac began to exsanguinate from the torn skin. His concentration began to fade as he fought to stitch the raw flesh together, leaving bands of angry flesh patchwork. He pulled with all the hatred he could muster, going red in the face as the vessels in his neck grew under the pressure. There was little life left in the decrepit corpse beneath him, its arms no longer flensing but gently tugging as strength faded and Ellac felt his own strength fading in time.

Noch'i'cheptir began babbling out maddened gibberish as they hit the bottom of their reserves. Their hands were flapping useless against the form above him as the light began to fade to a dull crimson. Blood covered their own armor as the flensing they had wrought poured from its vessel. A horrific howl escaped their lips as the last warmth left them, sending them into a quivering fit.

Ellac was shaken loose as Noc'i'cheptar convulsed, falling into his own torpor as he lost conciousness. Rage faded to a dull ache as he felt it dribble away in his blood.

A dull thud echoed as the duo dropped like a rockslide to the floor. A medical droid sped out to retrieve the two and push them into waiting bacta.