Lt. Col. Jean Chandler
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ON:
Jean had showered and dressed in relaxation. Xavier was a very nice station, much better in some of the human commodities than KDB had been last year. After a short warmup and a good breakfast Tank had decided to watch the morning goings on of the station before his first match.
It was against an opponent that Tank had seen fight in the past, a human who always seemed to carry an attitude of confidence bordering on the extreme. Commander Tolomay was a formidible opponent when just fighting, but when he tried to show off for the crowd he often got careless and put himself at risk.
Tank knew his opponent's favored style, yet the lucky blow could always land, and there could be the upset victory, such was the way of the competition.
The judge called out the names of the opponents and they retrieved their bat'leths from the wall. Tank felt the familiar weight and balance that the bat'leth he wielded had. "Trust in my old friend, we go to battle once again, let us come out again in victory and honor."
The judge had the two come together and announced the match would be to the disarm then stepped away. The fight was announced and the war began.
Both men spun in a semicircle around the other, studying the opponent, finding weakness, calculating strength, looking for the hole, and most of all trying to enter the others head.
Suddenly Tolomay switched his stance and almost surprising Tank he lunged forward blade extended in a daring full thrust which was easily deflected by Chandler's defense but it was just a probe afterall.
A few more circles and Tolomay again attacked, a little more strikingly this time, with the same results.
Tank began to notice something he hadn't seen in his opponent before, he was incapable of patiance, if he circled for too long he got nervous and would strike out in an attempt to force his foe to attack him where he would be the stronger of the two. Information of this sort was key.
The two continued to circle, then abrubtly Tank stopped and held his ground forcing Tolomay to make his move or to try to hold Tank in this bluff. Yet Tolomay's nerves were wearing thin and he struck down wildly which was easily defended and countered, with a flick of the wrist Tank sent his opponent's blade clattering across the arena floor.
Bowing to Tolomay, Tank extended a hand. "Can I buy you a pint?"
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Tank v. Tolomay (Read 383 times)
