Jim Hunter
Active Attendee
Human. Don't mess.
Posts: 110
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After having become used to the thick air of Klingon stations and ships in such a short time, Serenity was certainly living up to her name as far as the air went. Once the initial blast of Starfleet freshness was over though, the bustle of the incoming crews distracted Hunter from any thoughts he may have had about clean air. To his surprise, most people he saw weren’t carrying a weapon, and those with either a naked blade or shoulder hoisted sheath were easy to mark out amongst the crowd. His own blade felt heavy as he carried it on his back – it was a loaned gift from one of many drunken warriors he had met in the Klach D’Kel Brakt bar. It was designed for shorter arms than his and so was slightly stubbier than he had become used to whilst training aboard the station, but it was a good weight and he felt comfortable using it, insofar as he hadn’t injured himself in the six days since receiving it. The ex-marine hadn’t attended the tournament expecting to win, and wouldn’t be surprised with a first-round knockout, but competition was addictive and only real combat gave a better rush. With a lack of invading Cardassians, Hunter had decided that the tournament was a good enough reason to travel to the station. That, and Serenity’s bar was known for its wide stock of Earth drinks.
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