Star Wars: Red Harvest Chapter 5
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EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
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Chapter five Pain Pipe Master, I am ready to begin again. 17 year old Manav Rot stood in the center of the academy's combat simulator, the one that students called the pain pipe. Why, being the blood from a split and swollen lip, he felt no pain. Now only a burning desire to attack and avenge what had been done to him. The fact that the damage had been inflicted by an automatic system as part of his training didn't matter at all to rot. He was angry, and his anger made him strong of above. CIF combat masters at Rack in sat back inside the control booth, one hand resting on the wraparound suite of controls. Though he was human, Fracking was built more like an aqua lish, bald, bulky and broad across the shoulders, his wide all of skin face pinwst into a perpetual scowl like stapled bundles of oiled suede. The hour was late, and he and rot were the only ones in the simulator, cracking like blade. Master Shock with had been teaching here at the academy for decades, and he had seen students like Rod come and go acolytes who seem to require little or no sleep, who insisted on continuing their training late into the night, sometimes into the morning, and he'd seen how it caught up with them. In the end, after a moment's consideration, he tapped the intercom. That's enough for tonight, Crackin said. No, Rog lowered up at him with red baleful eyes. I want to go again. Cracking Rose from behind the control deck and stepped forward so that the Apprentice could see him through the transparent steel window. You defy me, No, master rots. Tone was only slightly mollified. A symbolic obi, since to the Masters authority, I only wish to train under the same regimen as Rance Lusk, Racket nodded to himself. He'd expected as much from the moment he arrived here. Lust had set the pace for the academies, most driven pupils, all of whom wanted to fight, train and study as intensely as he did. What none of them seemed to understand was that there could only be one. Lusk and those who challenged him found themselves sharing the fate of nectar, among others. Still, master Franken had to admit that he found rots, ambition, intriguing. Her aunt was easily the smallest in his class, wispy haired and fine featured and two years of training hadn't added more than a few ounces of muscle to his spindly frame. But he had deep steel in him, a kind of gritty, semi psychotic rage and a will to power that drove him to do whatever was necessary to get ahead. He also had some very peculiar ideas. It was rot, after all, who started the rumors that Darth Scabrous was abducting students and taking them up to the tower in an effort to find one powerful enough to succeed him. He'd argued the case so successfully that some of the students and even a few of the masters wondered if he might be right now. Franken wondered if you'd finally grasped for our ultimate goal. He touched the intercom again, all right then, one small without so much as a nod of acknowledgement. Rot dropped back into fighting stance, shoulders squared, jaw set. It was as if you know no along that the master would acquiesce all right. Yet rack and thought they see how good you really are. He tapped in a sequence of commands and watch the simulator come to life below him. An automated Siris of heavy swinging arms aren't out from either side, each one of them two meters wide closing in so that rot had to jump to avoid being crushed. He dived between them easily before going into a tuck and roll, successfully dodging the third obstacle. Ah, spring loaded pick a door pike, five meters long that thrust itself unexpectedly downward from the ceiling cracking, nodded again. It had been the pike that had caught rot last time. Now he was faster or you fast enough, though. That's a question, isn't it? How about when you can't see? Picking up a pair of thermal lenses from the counter beside him, Fracking adjusted them over his eyes, then reached over and switched off the lights. Darkness swallowed the room, vast and total crack inflict on the goggles. His vision. Helio scoped into 100 brilliant variations of fluorescent green before resolving itself into focus, and he leaned forward with keen interest Down below. The now blind rot stopped in his tracks, processing what had just happened, and in that second, the wall behind him burst open in a whistling array of heavy rubber whips. Slashing into the air brought jerk Ford, but it was too late. The whips drove into his knees crack and saw the apprentices face clinch, his lips drawn back in pain. Eso va! He thought and reached to switch the lights back on. But it wasn't rot was on his feet again, instantly jumping clear of the whips. Crackin immediately realized that The Apprentice was no longer hampered by vision or lack thereof. Now he was relying entirely upon the force. When the swing arm came down again, Rot reached up, grabbed it and actually held on a move that the CIF master hadn't seen before, even from Lusk, writing it all the way up to the ceiling at the apex of its arc, he let go, twisting and launching itself headlong through open space to catch hold of the spring loaded rod as it came spiking out of the wall. It was a move of unprecedented grace and absolute precision. Rot spun himself around the rod once, twice, three times building speed, and fired himself directly at the window of the control booth. Master fracking jerked backward, rots slammed into the transparent steel, with both hands actually clinging there for a split second long enough for fracking to see the students face staring straight in at him. Then he dropped. Franken whipped off the goggles and turned on the lights like roared across the room, filling every corner. He saw her outstanding down below, his face flushed, shining with sweat, shoulders rising and falling with the effort of catching his breath. Despite his obvious exhaustion, the apprentices face was almost incandescent with leftover adrenaline when he saw fracking coming down the stairs, his eyes filled with expectation, awaiting the CIF Masters judgment. Interesting crack and said, tomorrow we'll see if you can do it again. Rod blinked at him. Master fracking looked around. What is it? Lusk, in combat simulation. Has e. Ever the sixth master, waited for wrought to finish the sentence. But in the end, the apprentice simply nodded and looked away. Tomorrow, he said, walking back to the dorm with his cloak drawn up over his shoulders and his wounds throbbing in the frigid night air, brought, stopped and glanced back at the simulation bunker. He was aware of what the other students and masters said about him, how he was too small, too weak in thrall to his paranoid delusions. And he didn't care. Tonight he'd shown fracking what he was capable of. Soon the rest would see. He stepped over a high snowdrift that had formed outside the library, making his way around the eastern wall of the building until he found himself in the shadow of the tower. It was snowing steadily. Barad could still make out the tracks leading up to the towers main entryway. Two sets of prints, along with the familiar tracks of the HK droid, brought felt of requisite twinge of jealousy. The tracks in the snow meant that Lord Scabrous had brought visitors here. Very recently, the city Lord had invited them into his sanctum, and they had stepped inside. Odd, who had never been inside the tower and could Onley imagine its secrets, wondered who the visitors had been. Lusk Nectar, one of the Masters slipping off his glove rot, placed one bare hand directly on the closed hatchway, imagining for a moment that he could feel the power pulsating out from inside power that he would do anything to possess. Someday he thought, I'll go through their myself. Until then, he would keep practicing