The blade of the black dagger thrust past his face, inches from slicing through skin, as he quickly blocked and countered with three successive elbow jabs to the assailants face before spinning the weapon out of his opponent’s hand causing them to stumble and fall backwards. Another attacker from behind swung wide with a large electro-baton, the heat particles emitting from the device singeing a few stray hairs from the man’s head as he dodged the brunt of the attack, repositioning his body for a quick and concise disarm and take-down. The third attacker ran up as though from out of nowhere, armed with a handgun and aimed point blank at the man’s head, but was quickly relinquished of his firearm and held at gunpoint with his own weapon before a shot could even be fired. “Eight point three seconds, Chief TreVayne.” Noah’s voice echoed through the training room’s vast sound system as the “assailants” bodies dematerialized and lowered into the holo-platforms digital interface. “Did you get that folks?” Gavon spoke loud and clear enough -between catching his breath- for the crowd of a dozen or so rookie Agents who formed a circle around the event taking place within the large octagon. “Eight point three seconds to remove multiple threats and diffuse a hostile and potentially deadly situation. [i]Response time[/i] is a huge factor when protecting the lives of others as well as your own, so make it count.” “What about live opponents, Chief?” A tall, bulky young man with a German accent spoke up. “It’s one thing to train with holos, but another to crush a flesh & blood man.” “Excellent!” Gavon exclaimed with a grin. “Agent Bauer here has agreed to volunteer as our next victim.” A low laughter erupted from the crowd. The Chief’s eyes then scanned across the row of recruits until it landed on the right fit for his next demonstration. “Agent Asara, front and center.” “Sir!” A short, dark-skinned female with jet black hair tied up in a bun behind her head stepped forward a few paces and stood at attention across the octagon from the large Agent Bauer, whose expression instantly transformed from awe to disappointment. The German glanced around the encircling crowd feeling a bit like he was being pranked as a few mocking comments were thrown his way from peers. “It’s bloody David and Goliath!” An Agent yelled out with a few chuckles from the others, while another close by said [i]“Who?”[/i] “Alright folks, shut it for the moment” Gavon continued, standing along the sidelines with arms crossed. “Let’s make it interesting this time. Once within arms reach, you both have two seconds to take the other down by [i]any[/i] means necessary. Engage!” Bauer‘s eyes widened as he stared across the platform at his smaller opponent, who returned his gaze with a half-smile, and a taunting hand gesture for him to come at her, which inevitably he did like a raging bull. Asara stood her ground until the gap between them closed enough for the hulking man to lunge at her in hopes of attaining a grapple, but was quickly side-stepped and kneed in the groin by the agile female Agent. She then followed up with a hard shove against her unbalanced opponent, sending him face first to the ground using his own weight. Resounding applause mixed with some laughter immediately followed the man’s humiliating defeat. Gavon raised his arm and gestured indicating silence. “Ladies and Gentlemen, let’s forget about physique and stature for the moment and concentrate on skill and situational awareness.” He then turned his attention to Agent Bauer who was picking up the pieces of his pride off the platform. “It’s not always about crushing an enemy...” The Chief then pointed to the female combatant, who was standing straight with arms behind her back. “I’d like to introduce you to [b]Agent Camilla Asara[/b], combat and tactics specialist, and your instructor for the next several weeks.” ------------------------------------------------ Warm water rained down from the stainless steel shower head and along his corded muscles, slowly releasing the tension that had built up during intense morning training and calisthenics, and allowing the thoughts running ever rampant and unchecked to finally sort and settle. The last few days since launch have been quite the primer, especially for the newer Agents, but it gave them a glimpse of just what they [i]should[/i] expect aboard the Ark and hopefully beyond. Gavon took nothing for granted, maximizing every bit of non-sleeping hours to refine and educate, not only those around him and under his leadership, but himself as well. There was always room to grow. The initial high-pitched sound of pressurized water in the stall next to him jolted his reverie, causing his eyes to open and glance to see Agent Asara’s lean, smooth form undressed and removing the clips that kept her dark hair in a bun. “Chief.” She turned her head and nodded with respect before stepping under the steaming water as the locks fell to just past her shoulders. “Agent.” Returning a nod as he finished rinsing off. Shared facilities weren’t uncommon within the Military and Law Enforcement sectors, and if anything, it was highly encouraged, as it literally allowed no secrets to be kept, and all self-doubt, shame and humility to be dissolved in the presence of teammates, whether leadership or peers. If a soldier allowed their own negative, self-conscious thoughts to rattle their psyche, then just about anything could pose as a distraction from their primary job. It was simply another form of breaking down base human instincts and feelings, and building up something so much more substantial and resilient that would carry through their life in and out of service. Karrels and D’avanzi, a couple of young upstarts from the Roslin Federation were sitting on the benches in front of their lockers passing the time with cards before they were to be called into patrol rotation. “Chief” Both men stood to attention as Gavon walked toward his locker, but he motioned for them to sit as he unlocked the door. “You two did well this morning.” He finally said plainly, slipping on a pair of sweatpants. “Although Karrels, you need to work on your positioning. Engage only when necessary. Too early, and you give yourself away, potentially getting you and your team seriously injured or killed.” “U-understood Sir.” Karrels said, a bit disenchanted by the critique. The kid had spirit, as did most rookies, but a hot head nonetheless, and too eager to jump into situations he didn’t fully comprehend just to prove he can do it. “Permission to speak freely, Chief?” D’avanzi asked, hoping to break the tension he sensed in his friend. “Permission?” The Chief said with a grin. “Last time I checked, this wasn’t the military, so go ahead.” “Right. So I couldn’t help but notice the [url=http://rawknart.com/img/back_tatt.jpg]tattoo on your back[/url]. Does the skull and snake signify anything?” Gavon slid the plain black t-shirt over his torso and smoothed out the fabric with his hand. “More or less I suppose...” [i]If The Solntsevskaya Brotherhood had anything to hide, it was the fact that they had been slowly dissipating after the [b]Third World War[/b], and ripping what was left of Russia apart hadn’t helped their cause in the slightest. The gang's leaders had either fallen or simply disappeared with vast amounts of resources into the wastelands, leaving the remaining members very little recourse. As the years went on, the gang had once again begun recruitment using any means necessary to attain an army they could be proud of. Gavon, a teenager at the time, had been pulled under the sway and influence of the Brotherhood, believing them to be an organization who wanted nothing more than to build up a new Russia. With an eagerness to be apart of something, the Brotherhood trained him in several disciplines of combat -namely Krav Maga- for use in guerrilla style warfare against neighboring threats. However, what started out as swift attacks on military outposts, slowly slithered it’s way into civilian areas. Men. Women. Children. It didn’t matter anymore as each was a means to a greater end for the Brotherhood of selfish bastards. As a rite of passage, each member was “marked”, not only a sign of allegiance, but to signify their role within the organization. Gavon’s particular fighting and tactics likened him to the serpent, striking fast and silent, even going so far as to coat particular melee weapons with a debilitating snake poison. In the end, he earned the brand through more bloodshed and innocent lives than he would ever care to admit...[/i] “Let’s just say it’s a reminder of what I’m fighting against.” He said, closing and securing the door to his locker. As if timing couldn’t have been any better, the notification alert on the two Agent’s wrist communicators lit up, indicating a shift change and the start of [b]Forenoon Watch[/b]. Both men stood and saluted Chief TreVayne before heading out to their respective posts, and Gavon left for his quarters to grab another hour of rest and change into uniform before his meeting with the mysterious cyborg inmate...