Falco_Tauvits
Junior Member
BlueMan
Posts: 95
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Tauvits wound his way through the crowd neatly to get to the front. Small - when compared to Klingons - but forceful, he was hardly stopped, and managed to get just before the arena as the match started. G'Trell and Ta'pez. Both warriors he had fought last year, and he'd be happy to say both were better than him. Ta'pez defeated him fair and square, in the first match Tauvits had actually been happy with the entire tournament. And G'Trell was one of Falco's greatest shames. She was a superior fighter to he, and he had defeated her only through tactics which his fencing tutors would have been groaning in agony over. Pathetic tactics, tactics that had no place for any sportsman. And that was how he viewed this. A sport, with rules, and a code of conduct specifically arranged so that the fighter with the greater skill would prevail, not the fighter who would cheat could come out on top. So this was bound to be a good fight. To an extent, Tauvits was quietly rooting for G'trell, as someone he had unfairly prevented from carrying on further in the tournament last year when she deserved it, over Ta'pez, who had tasted victory twice already. But if it was a match well-fought, he was sure both were as worthy as the other. Ta'pez had given him a good lesson in humility the previous year - though he knew he'd opened up the classroom himself in the first place. They both deserved to do well. Then the singing started, and Tauvits felt himself grinning slightly. His Klingon wasn't perfect, but had improved over the last year. One didn't deal with Klingon pirates and then take over a B'Rel class without brushing up on the language somewhat, and he joined in the Klingon words, recognising the rather familiar song. This was really the ideal fight. Whoever won, neither would lose. He was sure of it.
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