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SMACK!
THUD!
These were the sounds that reverberated throughout the hangar bay of Skirata Base. Whereas normally, the hangar was host to the verd that worked on the Clan's ships, at this moment, it was populated only by a few men, two of which were fighting atop a soft mat. Yearning to get some more combat practice in, Lyon Skirata had brought the soft foam mat in so that he and a few others could get spar and practice their skills.
Lyon was an old-hand at hand-to-hand, enjoying the rush and proximity of a good fist fight. It was how he earned his position as Aliit'alor of Clan Skirata, and hell, he was one of the few people in the galaxy to say he was in a fist fight with Yuri Sharp. And lived. However, he wasn't just going to sit back and let his muscles atrophy. He brought in a couple of other warriors who weren't busy to spar with, and so far, Lyon hadn't lost much of his old skill.
The last person to go down wiped some of the blood from his nose, one of many accidents that may occur when one was within the combat ring of a veteran Skirata warrior. As he didn't want his armor injuring any of his opponents, Lyon had moved a few heaters over to their makeshift fighting ring, so he and the others could strip their armor, allowing them to wear whatever cloth attire they wished. As his last opponent stepped off the mat, Lyon sat down on the ground, catching his breath before someone else wished to step up and fight him. Hell, he'd even be happy if one of the Ge'verd came by, so he could turn this little sparring bout into a training session.
THUD!
These were the sounds that reverberated throughout the hangar bay of Skirata Base. Whereas normally, the hangar was host to the verd that worked on the Clan's ships, at this moment, it was populated only by a few men, two of which were fighting atop a soft mat. Yearning to get some more combat practice in, Lyon Skirata had brought the soft foam mat in so that he and a few others could get spar and practice their skills.
Lyon was an old-hand at hand-to-hand, enjoying the rush and proximity of a good fist fight. It was how he earned his position as Aliit'alor of Clan Skirata, and hell, he was one of the few people in the galaxy to say he was in a fist fight with Yuri Sharp. And lived. However, he wasn't just going to sit back and let his muscles atrophy. He brought in a couple of other warriors who weren't busy to spar with, and so far, Lyon hadn't lost much of his old skill.
The last person to go down wiped some of the blood from his nose, one of many accidents that may occur when one was within the combat ring of a veteran Skirata warrior. As he didn't want his armor injuring any of his opponents, Lyon had moved a few heaters over to their makeshift fighting ring, so he and the others could strip their armor, allowing them to wear whatever cloth attire they wished. As his last opponent stepped off the mat, Lyon sat down on the ground, catching his breath before someone else wished to step up and fight him. Hell, he'd even be happy if one of the Ge'verd came by, so he could turn this little sparring bout into a training session.
