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.]

An audible click reverberated faintly through the empty central chamber of the Arx Combat Training Center as Frenek Mausma inserted a memory chip into the cold and lifeless head unit of the powered-down IG assassin droid that lay on the workbench in front of him. It was nice and quiet in the training center—just how Frenek liked it. He always felt uncomfortable when there were others around to watch his unconventional training methods in action. With a flip of a switch on the chestpiece of the droid, a few red lights blinked on, and the head began to spin around, each rotation punctuated by metallic clanking. Suddenly, the head snapped into place, and the droid sat bolt upright on the workbench. It turned to Frenek and raised two gangly arms toward Frenek’s throat. Frenek stamped hard on the killswitch he had positioned within stamping distance, and the droid slumped back onto the workbench in a newly lifeless heap.

Well, evidently the memory chip was working just fine. Frenek sighed and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between his temples. For the umpteenth time, his imagination conjured up some organic approximation of the data that had just been installed into the IG droid’s memory unit. Frenek wondered if the droid had the capacity to envision the scarlet red color of blood on his father’s stark white uniform, or if it was all just ones and zeros. In his mind’s eye, the XR-32 hunter droid pulled a vibroblade out of its entrance point in his father’s chest and turned to face a young Frenek. It had only been Frenek’s second month working at his father’s interplanetary delivery company, and nothing could have prepared him for this scenario. He was getting the sort of on-the-job-training only outer rim pirates could provide.

Before the droid could take a stab at him, Frenek drew his standard-issue blaster from his tool belt and fired point-blank at the droid’s neck, separating its head from its body. The lanky frame of the droid collapsed onto his father, who was now laying on the floor of the cargo ship’s corridor, propped up against the double doors that led to the sole escape pod. Frenek watched as his father used the last of his strength to lift his arm above his head and place his hand on the biometric scanner that was installed just outside of the escape pod. Frenek had not been working at the company long enough to have had his biometrics integrated into the ship’s security system, a fact of which his father was plainly well aware. As a couple of pirates rounded the corner and began to dash towards them, the scanner beeped green and the double doors to the escape pod slid open. Frenek’s father removed his hand from the scanner and shoved Frenek into the escape pod in one final effort. He sealed the doors of the pod and nodded toward his son from the other side of the transparisteel doors.

The next thing Frenek knew, he was hurtling away from the ship. He threw himself on the floor of the escape pod in distress. When he finally opened his eyes again, he was staring face to face, yet again, with the IG droid, whose severed head unit had evidently rolled into the escape pod in the scuffle. Over the course of the next few ghastly days that Frenek spent holed up in that pod, he worked up the courage to disassemble the droid. The droid whose last memory was of attempting to kill him—a mere kid. The droid that was just following its directive, the droid that couldn’t do anything more than to blindly follow its directive—the droid that couldn’t think, couldn’t feel. The droid that was no different than any other droid, certainly no different than the droid that lay presently in front of Frenek in the main chamber of the Arx Combat Training Center. The droid that shared the same memory unit as the droid who murdered his father.

Droids might not change, but Frenek wasn’t a kid anymore. As much as he strived to maintain a simple life delivering packages, it seemed that he was called into life-threatening situations more and more often these days. He needed to train his combat skills. Although his methods were a bit unconventional, the fire he felt in his gut whenever he held that memory chip he had salvaged from the XR-32 hunter droid in the escape pod all those years ago was enough to motivate him to get the most he could out of each and every training session.

Couple that with his latest motivator, the beautiful Syrena Valkar. The fire in his gut mingled with butterflies at the thought of the female Zeltron who was on her way to the Arx Combat Training Center at that very moment. He rose, leaving the workbench and the IG droid and striding across the sparring mats to the entrance doors, where he stood waiting for Syrena and eyeing the IG droid dubiously from across the chamber.

There came the soft clicking of heels reverberating down the hallway of the Combat Training Center as Syrena made her way towards main room. She cast a glance towards her datapad, thinking on the message she had received from Frenek.... This seemed quite the odd choice for their first date. The female Zeltron had been expecting perhaps a night out for dinner at a neon-lit diner, or an evening of dancing amidst a vibrant gala... Not a rendezvous at the Combat Training Center. Given the location, Syrena had arrived dressed in her fine white form-fitting armor, with a shimmering protective cloak flowing behind her shoulders with each movement. She wasn't sure entirely what to expect, but figured that she'd do her best to go into it with an open mind. This was Frenek after all, and though she hadn't openly shared her feelings yet, she did care about him.

She swung open the heavy doors to the chamber, her sharp silver gaze swiftly taking in the details of the room. The metallic gleam dark metaI belonging to a scuffed IG droid, currently resting on a workbench, was what caught her attention first. "Is this what you brought me here for... What is that..?" Syrena began to ask, a tone of displeasure involuntarily slipping into her voice. It was true that she hadn't known what to expect when he'd stated the Arx Training Center as the location, but spending an evening repairing a droid together wasn't one of her top priorities. The more that she gazed at the IG droid, and could sense a few of Frenek's emotions directed towards this heap of battle-tuned machinery, could she finally recollect who this droid was. Her initial surprise changed to trepidation as she turned to face Frenek, crossing her arms. "Please tell me this isn't what I think it is..." She began to say softly, an icy look shimmering in her light silver eyes. "I get that what that droid did was... horrible, but what it deserves is a final demise, like it should've had years ago... Not whatever this is," Syrena began to state, letting out a long sigh. Despite her words, she understood why Frenek had made this choice. Syrena knew what it was like to hold onto rage, to grip onto the desire for vengeance. It was something that she felt nearly every day as a former slave, and something she was continually working to come to terms with.

"I'm... not going to participate in this. Let's just leave this droid to be retired once and for all, and go out for dinner somewhere instead," Syrena suggested hopefully, already beginning to turn towards the door. Just as she placed her hand on the handle, preparing to exit, there came the screech of a disjoined mechanical clanking sound. Syrena instinctively whirled around, her silver gaze locking on the IG droid. It's circuits had sparked to life, as it slowly sat up on the table, head rotating and an array of gleaming red lights landing on her as the droid locked on where she stood. It extended one mechanical arm, joints snapping together to create the form of a blaster. There came a flash of red light through the room, as two shots where fired. In one sudden motion, Syrena swiftly leaped out of the way to avoid fire, landing in a lowered defensive stance to the side of the room. The door glowed with red, where the after effect of the blaster shots marred the metal. Blaster shots that would've been meant for her. There was no denying that this droid before her had aimed to kill, and that now there was only one path forward if she had any hope of destroying it's memory chip once and for all-- To battle it.

To his surprise, Frenek found himself relieved at the sight of the pair of blaster shots smoldering in the transparisteel door—twin interruptions that had spared him the opportunity to hone his primitive persuasion skills against a vastly superior adversary—that charismatic Syrena Valkar. He followed the trajectory of her graceful arc, watching as her hair settled into the low defensive stance her body had assumed.

A barrage of blaster fire from the IG droid sent Frenek into a barrel-roll of a dodge toward Syrena. He stood clumsily and, deciding it was high time to put his Corellian kickboxing techniques into practice, bent slightly at the knees, distributing his weight evenly. As his practice dictated, he positioned his stronger right side further from the IG droid and his left side pointed toward his robotic opponent, leaving his back turned from Syrena—the droid being for the moment a more immediate threat than the veiled and infuriatingly justifiable verbal criticisms of his fledgling romantic interest.

Even still, over his shoulder, Frenek offered up a rebuttal. “I just figured we could get to know each other better this way,” he said in a voice that he hoped sounded hopeful. He ducked as the IG droid unleashed another volley of blaster fire. Seizing a precious opening, he advanced rapidly toward the droid, managing to grasp the hand that held its blaster, force it downward, and jab his knee into one of its joints. The arm snapped off and the blaster dropped to the floor, misfiring in Syrenas direction upon impact.

“Sorry about that!” Frenek cried desperately toward his date. There was going to be dinner tonight after all, and it was going to be on him. Though he was looking in her direction, his hearing honed in on the subtle click of a vibrodagger unsheathing behind him. He knew it was too late to win any sort of a strategical advantage; his only hope was to gain some distance from the droid. He leaned away from both the droid and Syrena and jumped backwards as far as he could, stumbling as he landed. Sitting on the ground, he reached around to feel his back, feeling a twinge of pain. When he pulled his hand away, he found a thin layer of blood on his palm glinting under the white lights of the training hall. It reminded him of the blood that had poured forth from his father’s stab wound back on the cargo transport. Only not nearly as condemning—don’t be so dramatic. He stood shakily and drew his blaster in hopes of providing Syrena with as much cover as possible.

Her silver gaze shifted into a look of burning determination as she exchanged glances with Frenek. She stood poised alongside him as he swiftly made his way across the room, the two of them back to back as they prepared to face the oncoming threat. Gone was the annoyance in her eyes, the displeasure at a seemingly disastrous first date. A wave of understanding suddenly overcame Syrena. Though the means were a bit unconventional, she realized that this was Frenek's way of trying to show her more of himself, to offer her a glimpse into his past, to directly involve her in his life in the way that she'd always hoped for. This IG droid before her was a physical representation of Frenek's pain, of the thing that had taken away his family. The elegant lines of Syrena's brows lowered, her silver gaze darkening into a icy look of pure fury, as she wanted nothing more than to destroy that in which caused her dearest companion any such misery.

As Frenek advanced on the droid, it's mechanical arm snapping off with various red wires now exposed, there came a sudden blaster shot in her direction. Her gaze having been locked on the two of them, Syrena had half been anticipating another shot. This time, she pivoted to the left, utilizing her muscle memory in acrobatics to swiftly avoid the bright ray of the blaster. Her vision caught the glimpse of the metallic gleam of a vibrodagger's sharpened edge, as it slid free from the droid's secondary arm into place. "Frenek, watch out-" Syrena began to instinctively call, panic flashing through her gaze. She readied herself, calculating the droid's movements as she began to plan her next course of action to attack, rushing forward. Yet it was already a second too late. The blade had struck, and Syrena could only watch as crimson now marred Frenek's back, blood soaking through his white shirt. But despite this, he still stood, ready to defend her. "Frenek, no, you've done enough. You've done it. You've avenged your family enough. I'll be damned if I'm going to lose you to this heap of mechanical junk on our first date," She snapped, though despite the iciness of her tone, her silver eyes were wide with worry.

Syrena took a step closer to the droid, it's sensors gleaming red as it began to lock onto her as it's next target. The very air seemed crackle around where she stood, her pale pink hair rising as electricity began to build in her form. The droid sent fourth the dagger, the edge of the blade enough to still slice her in the shoulder as it sailed past, just barely missing. Syrena drew a deep breath and grit her teeth, channeling the pain into the release of her oncoming attack. White volts of electric sparks suddenly lashed forwards in a steady burst of lightning, aimed in a streak directly at the center of the droid. It's mechanical form froze, circuits sputtering as it took a few ragged steps towards them, still advancing with the might it had left. But this time, Syrena was faster. A smirk curled across her lips as she sent fourth another glowing wave of white electricity, letting the tendrils of energy radiate through the droid, frying whatever remained of it's circuits. The IG droid collapsed to it's knees, head spinning wildly just before the red glow of it's visual processors abruptly shut off. It's entire form crumpled to the ground, with only remaining sparks of electricity sputtering through the broken wires of it's severed arm.

Syrena took several deep breaths, kneeling down before the fallen droid once the sparks dissipated. The initial pain of the cut in her shoulder had now faded into a dull sting, and it was light at that, thanks to the protection offered from her armor. Syrena stepped into the medical ward, grabbing enough materials for Frenek. "This should... help for now, at least until we have a chance to hit the bacta tanks," She said to him as she began to remove his shirt. He's always been so well toned, Syrena couldn't help but think to herself though quickly shook away such thoughts, as she focused on administering medical aid. Once the bleeding was effectively stopped, she instead knelt down to where the droid was. A hidden blade unsheathed itself from the gauntlet around her wrist. Using the reinforced edge of the blade, Syrena carved directly into the droid's chest, prying apart the metal and slicing her way through various wires until she finally retrieved a small chip, the core memory processor. Turning towards Frenek, she gently placed the chip into the palm of his hand. "Destroy it. End this one and for all. You once helped me to learn to start letting go of the past. I want to do the same for you," Syrena said in a softer tone, gazing up into his eyes.