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 Inquisitori.

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 matt has been stretched out to create a larger footprint than the typical Shock-Boxing 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 durarubber 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 reserved 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 Weapon Load Out for the match itself. Skill usage and all other ACC rules and guidelines still applies.]

“Back again?”

“Not until I’m satisfied, sir,” Aul Celsus called back to the trainer as he entered the sliding doors of the combat training hall.

He had spent nearly every waking hour in the training facility since his last session with Padawan Talis; a match that had landed him in the bacta tanks for two days. A persistent thought had kept him motivated: his weakness will not be allowed to keep him from his goal of fully understanding and mastering the Force in all its aspects. His battle with Talis was an embarrassing display of weakness, or so he kept telling himself.

True to his ways, Aul had started to train to the point of exhaustion; he never missed a day and never rested until he could no longer stand. It had barely been two weeks, but there was already a drastic improvement in Aul’s strength and endurance. His lightsaber strikes were becoming tighter and cleaner, though he had not yet learned a form other than Banlanth. He was by no means a polished combatant, but he was certain he would not end another match the way he had with Talis.

At first appearance, Aul was dressed much like the Jedi from the time of the Old Republic. Under a heavy, dark grey cloak he was wearing a cream-colored undertunic that was itself covered by a loose fitting, light gray overtunic. His black trousers were tucked into shin-high combat boots. Around his waist he wore a black leather belt with a series of sample collection vials tucked in the back while his armory-issue lightsaber hung from a ring clip on the left side. From his shoulder and across his chest he carried a satchel of rich brown leather that was filled with a collection of medical supplies, small research tools and his datapad. Aul removed his satchel and cloak and began his stretching routine.

“I’m glad to see my apprentice is finally taking combat seriously,” Darkblade called from across the training hall. Aul had not expected to meet with his master until the following day and wasn’t mentally prepared for a combat assessment. The Acolyte knew this visit would not be a casual one.

When Darkblade was within two meters of Aul he reached for his lightsaber and ignited the brilliant purple blade. He assumed a Makashi offensive stance; the Anzat’s body turned to the side with his blade parallel to the floor at chest height, point directly at Aul. The look in his eyes struck deep intimidation into his apprentice.

“But, uh, we aren’t supposed to meet until tomorrow,” the Grey Jedi muttered. He began to sweat with apprehension, not expecting to be cold-called like this.

“Combat isn’t planned,” Darkblade said in a matter-of-fact tone. Without another breath he swiftly thrust towards his apprentice, the purple blade of his weapon searing the air between them.

At the onset of Darkblade’s strike Aul could sense the blade’s course and quickly determined his master wasn’t going to be pulling back. The Acolyte pulsed what he could from the Force around him into his legs and core muscles and dodged the strike with a leap backwards. The blade’s travel ended at the center-point of where Aul’s head had just vacated.

The Acolyte reached for his own lightsaber and ignited it as he brought the hilt up to his waist in front of him, gripping the metal barrel with both hands. The light blue blade hummed in front of his face with a tone he had grown to consider as if it were the voice of a friend.

“Good,” Darkblade said curtly. With a knowing grin widening across his face he struck again, this time swinging the blade down and to the left, aimed directly at Aul’s right knee.

Aul, his mind now calmed and focused on the task of lightsaber combat, brought his lightsaber down to meet his master’s strike. Before the blades met, however, Darkblade made a sudden turn, rolling back-to-back around his apprentice. As their paths crossed he brought his left foot up under Aul’s right leg and, with another lunge forward, completely upset the acolyte’s balance.

Aul fell heavily forward for a few steps before folding the momentum into a shoulder roll, landing on his right knee about an arm’s length from the wall of the training hall. He focused inwards to sense the room around him and felt Darkblade silently sprinting towards him. A few seconds before Darkblade’s lightsaber was within striking distance Aul pulled the Force in and planted his left foot on the wall in front of him to propel him in a backflip over Darkblade’s head. He landed with a grunt behind Darkblade, who was still mid-sprint towards Aul’s previous position. The Acolyte, seeing his opportunity, thrust forward with a carefully calculated strike. With only a centimeter of leeway, the Mystic’s purple blade came searing over the top of his head to meet and deflect the blade away.

Darkblade stood in defiance of his apprentice’s attempt at a strike. His feet were fixed beneath his shoulders, with his blade held out to his right side. Aul, disappointed at the relative ease with which his master deflected his strike, held his blade angled forward in front of him. He worked to control his breathing.

“That’s a pretty fancy move you’ve got there, Celsus. It looks like your time here isn’t a total waste,” the Dark Jedi said with a grudging approval. “But it won’t be enough.”