While in the shuttle to get to the Bronzebeard, their Captain mentioned time aboard the ship would be theirs within reason. Some exercises would be happening towards the end of the trip so it'd be fresh in their minds. Alright, that made sense. But shouldn't they be doing light exercises to limber and warm up during the trip? Eh he'd keep himself warmed up until it was time to do the mandatory group exercises and drills.

Once the ship landed, the only indication it did was the ramp opening, the group filed out and lined up. Ah shit...speech time. A mental sigh and he stood at attention, despite the rigid posture his limbs were loose but his spine was tight. His eyes occasionally drifted, taking in the make-up of other squads. Their own was very...org=dinary honestly. Not to much in the tech department, the Gremlin of the Captain and mods being their only tech it seemed. Eh meant they were quieter and potentially faster...maybe. Who knew. But someone important was coming since no one was saying anything.

Some history was spoken, the group was partially introduced with their objective, the regulars weren't to know so hush hush, and now it was time to move. Drachen really wasn't one for speeches, he always believed actions spoke louder than words. The speech finished everyone was dismissed. Here the Captain escorted the four from the Hangar, through some halls, and to a door with an Ox head painted on it. Alright, at least they would know which door was theirs now.

With their barracks were a series of more private independent training facilities. But they would still have to go and train with the UEG Regulars, which honestly didn't bother him. Elitists did though, there was bound to be some on this ship, human nature and all that. They were dismiessed, so he plonked his gear on the bed nearest the door. His duffel was emptied onto his bed which held several sets of clothing, pieces of metal, and his armor. The armor was hung up properly in the standing locker, the clothes he tucked into the footlocker and slid under the bed. The pieces of metal were actually his axe, solid cylinders were screwed together with thick couplers over the joints to strengthen the weakest points and also provide proper grips for his hands. The head of the axe itself was unsurprisingly large, modeled after ancient bardiches. Judging by the extra pieces he could lengthen the haft if he chose to depending on spacing. Opening a pocket on the duffel out came a dozen throwing knives within a neatly bundled black bandolier.

His weapons, and extra length, were put in the locker below his armor before it was secured. Even if it wasn't a firearm you did not leave your weapons and gear just laying around. Helene was called into the Captain's officer, which earned a blink from him. It felt like she was getting a lot of attention, but was this good attention this time? It wasn't hit place to know nor ask, they had only just met today.

Fully unpacked he thought for a moment before going to the physical training room. He scanned the room, taking in the equipment before locking onto what he wanted. What was essentially a boxing ring with training dummies. It was doubtful they'd get into hand to hand combat, but it was always good to hone ones reflexes. So he set the dummy to Chryssalid speed levels with a moderate aggressiveness. After a few seconds of getting in the ring and letting the dummy boot up it came at him swinging.

He held his arms behind his back while the dummy swung, leaning out of the way of one strike, ducking beneath another. He had trained for several years like this, working his way up to this current level of speed despite his bulk weighing him down. Part of the trick wasn't to watch the 'hands' it was to watch the shoulders. Chryssalid's didn't exactly have footwork so you had to watch their shoulders to sort of predict where the next blow would come from and weave with it.