Flash of the Blade (Raynor/Ruth)

[Raynor Hughes]

[USS Athena - Holodeck One]

Just the right touch of crispness tinged the air as it filled Raynor's senses.  A breeze blew in off the North Sea, carrying it with it a hint of the fjords, a promise of doom sent to the unwary and the unwise.  It wasn't too far off from the kind of land Raynor had come to maturity into, in the North American wilds of Alaska.  He hoped that his sparring opponent would appreciate a touch of her ancestral homeland, and not assume it presumptuous.  The land underfoot was spongy and green, though the hue of it was muted by the sky's leaden grey.  Broken stones jutted from the earth, making the shallow bowl-like area look like the worn-down ribcage of some giant creature.  On Qo'noS, the monsters were still real.  Here on Earth, they existed only in legends.

Raynor flexed his arms, feeling a very satisfactory pop sound as he rolled his neck.  "Weapons rack, file Trainee 3," he commanded, and the computer obliged, creating a row of wooden implements of destruction - short swords, daggers, broad swords, the like.  The Klingon assumed Ruth knew her way around a weapon, but he would not subject her to a bat'leth - even a training one - until he was absolutely certain of her ability.  It was not a weapon for the unwary.

[Ruth Sigurdsdottir]

[USS Athena - Holodeck One]

Just the right touch of crispness tinged the air as it filled Raynor's senses.  A breeze blew in off the North Sea, carrying it with it a hint of the fjords, a promise of doom sent to the unwary and the unwise.  It wasn't too far off from the kind of land Raynor had come to maturity into, in the North American wilds of Alaska.  He hoped that his sparring opponent would appreciate a touch of her ancestral homeland, and not assume it presumptuous.  The land underfoot was spongy and green, though the hue of it was muted by the sky's leaden grey.  Broken stones jutted from the earth, making the shallow bowl-like area look like the worn-down ribcage of some giant creature.  On Qo'noS, the monsters were still real.  Here on Earth, they existed only in legends.

Raynor flexed his arms, feeling a very satisfactory pop sound as he rolled his neck.  "Weapons rack, file Trainee 3," he commanded, and the computer obliged, creating a row of wooden implements of destruction - short swords, daggers, broad swords, the like.  The Klingon assumed Ruth knew her way around a weapon, but he would not subject her to a bat'leth - even a training one - until he was absolutely certain of her ability.  It was not a weapon for the unwary.

[USS Athena - Holodeck One]

Ruth stepped into Holodeck One as Raynor had requested her presence there for some weapon practice.

Least she thought it was Holodeck one.  Now she was standing in it, it felt like... home.  The cool breeze the slight tang of salt on the air.  It exhilarated her and made her feel alive again.  The last few days of PADD after PADD of paperwork had made for an unhappy Viking.  She hated being cooped up in a cell... um office.

She loved her work, well those bits of it that exercised her brain and allowed her motherly instincts of looking after the crew in her department, but the paperwork, ... that was boring but necessary.

Her silver axes hung by her side she looked around for Raynor, he wasn't exactly the sort that could 'hide' that easily unless he didn't want found, and sure enough there was the gorgeous specimen of Klingon manhood standing by a weapons rack.

With the feeling of love for her heritage, and a tingle of ice and fire flowing through her being she rolled the axes around her hands.

Allowing a single tear to roll down her cheek she walked up to Raynor, and was chanting in Icelandic:

"Lo , Áƒ¾aÁƒ° sé ég fÁƒ¶Áƒ°ur minn.  SjÁƒ¡, Áƒ¾aÁƒ° sé ég ...
MÁƒ³Áƒ°ir mÁƒ­n og systur mÁƒ­nar, og brÁƒ¦Áƒ°ur mÁƒ­nir .
Lo, Áƒ¾aÁƒ° sé ég ...
LÁƒ­nan lÁƒ½Áƒ°s mÁƒ­ns ...
Til baka Áƒ­ byrjun .
Lo, Áƒ¾eir kalla til mÁƒ­n .
ÁƒÅ¾eir bjÁƒ³Áƒ°a mér aÁƒ° taka minn staÁƒ° meÁƒ°al Áƒ¾eirra .
ÁƒÂ sÁƒ¶lum Valhallar ...
Hvar hugrakkur ...
Geti lifaÁƒ° ...
....eilÁƒ­flega."

She smiled at Raynor.  "OK Guinea Targ.... how did you get it like the woods around Trondheim so much?!" she said sniffing a little.  It was a strange mix for her the emotion of being so close to her homeland and the 'I want to split someone's skull...' now racing through her so much her fingers were clenching and unclenching around the white ash hafts of her axes.

"...and where do we start?"

[Raynor Hughes]

Raynor thought, perhaps for a split second, that he'd done something wrong.  It became quickly apparent, however, that Ruth's tears were happy ones.  Although he certainly could cry, given his half-Terran heritage, it wasn't really something that he'd partaken of much in his thirty three years of life.  As a Klingon, though, he could respect the open display of emotion.  Klingons were not a 'bottle it up' kind of species...

"DImuv. pa' reH maSuvtaHqu'.
mamevQo' maSuvtaH ma'ov,"

Raynor replied, cracking a quick grin.  "I have no tongue for your language, but I assume it is one of the Ancient Earth, before the days of omniglot."  He glanced at the axes she carried, remembering well how the woman had sent one sailing by him, lodging into the carcass of a foe.  It was what had cemented his respect for her.  "Wanting to split a skull is a good place to start, but there is more to being a true warrior than the need to kill."  The Klingon walked over to the weapons rack.  "And, while that is a need to be sated as any other, desire without a plan, and without form, is as deadly as mewling inaction."  Raynor gestured toward the wooden pieces.  "We can practice form, if you'd like, with these?"

[Ruth Sigurdsdottir]

Raynor thought, perhaps for a split second, that he'd done something wrong.  It became quickly apparent, however, that Ruth's tears were happy ones.  Although he certainly could cry, given his half-Terran heritage, it wasn't really something that he'd partaken of much in his thirty three years of life.  As a Klingon, though, he could respect the open display of emotion.  Klingons were not a 'bottle it up' kind of species...

"DImuv. pa' reH maSuvtaHqu'.
mamevQo' maSuvtaH ma'ov,"

Raynor replied, cracking a quick grin.  "I have no tongue for your language, but I assume it is one of the Ancient Earth, before the days of omniglot."  He glanced at the axes she carried, remembering well how the woman had sent one sailing by him, lodging into the carcass of a foe.  It was what had cemented his respect for her.  "Wanting to split a skull is a good place to start, but there is more to being a true warrior than the need to kill."  The Klingon walked over to the weapons rack.  "And, while that is a need to be sated as any other, desire without a plan, and without form, is as deadly as mewling inaction."  Raynor gestured toward the wooden pieces.  "We can practice form, if you'd like, with these?"

"I totally agree with you as far as the '...more to a warrior than the need to kill...'  One needs to be able to kill without being killed and..."  Ruth grinned back at Raynor, "...without enjoying one's last meal twice so to speak.  I've had friends back how that couldn't even dispatch a rabbit or chicken for the pot, and I mean the kind you just had to go to a pen out the back of your house to get one, not even hunting for one!!"

Crossing to the weapons rack she took her axes from her belt and placed them carefully behind the rack.

"And yes, it was a Viking prayer, sorry it comes naturally in my native Icelandic but it's basically.."

Ruth thought for a moment then translated it,

"'Lo, there do I see my father.
'Lo, there do I see my mother, and my sisters, and my brothers.
'Lo, there do I see the line of my people...
Back to the beginning.
'Lo, they do call to me.
They bid me take my place among them.
In the halls of Valhalla...
Where the brave...
May live...
...forever."

Looking fully up into the hazel eyes of Raynor she smiled slowly "You know, Vikings are a lot like Klingons, they live for honour.  I don't intend taking my place in Valhalla just yet, though as a woman, warrior or not I wouldn't.  I'd merely be a handmaiden to Freya, a Valkyrie - not that that is a bad thing.  I'm already a shield maiden.  I can fight with axes, as well you know, sword and spear.  And of course make use of any short blade that is around and I can wield a bow adequately.  So which of these should we start with.  I don't just want to be proficient in weapons, I want to master them. And while I don't think Dr. Telak would appreciate it if we killed each other... I played Parisses Squares at academy and I didn't believe in being rotated out! Don't pull any punches and I won't either. I think that's pretty much what you said in your language.  I'm a little rusty on my Klingon!"

[Raynor Hughes]

"It was the Warrior's Anthem," Raynor replied, smiling quickly as Ruth undid her axes.  "A traditional Klingon battle song...as are most Klingon songs.  The Valhalla of your people sounds a lot like the Black Fleet, where we go if we are judged worthy to be there."  He cocked one upswept eyebrow, his countenance turning playful.  "Although, the Klingon afterlife does not differentiate between men and women.  And here I thought we were supposed to be the backwards barbarians..."

The Klingon nodded toward the weapons rack.  "I thought we would begin with basic form.  A mind needs to be prepared to touch a weapon, or you will be defeated before you even begin.  Are you familiar with the Mok'bara?"

[Ruth Sigurdsdottir]

"It was the Warrior's Anthem," Raynor replied, smiling quickly as Ruth undid her axes.  "A traditional Klingon battle song...as are most Klingon songs.  The Valhalla of your people sounds a lot like the Black Fleet, where we go if we are judged worthy to be there."  He cocked one upswept eyebrow, his countenance turning playful.  "Although, the Klingon afterlife does not differentiate between men and women.  And here I thought we were supposed to be the backwards barbarians..."

The Klingon nodded toward the weapons rack.  "I thought we would begin with basic form.  A mind needs to be prepared to touch a weapon, or you will be defeated before you even begin.  Are you familiar with the Mok'bara?"

Ruth gave Raynor a look of '... doesn't everyone?!' but answered fully.

"By my understanding, put simply Mok'bara is an ancient form of martial art, that aids in the development of concentration, coordination, flexibility, strength and speed. It requires weapons that have a certain flowing quality to them. The blades used seem to always a scimitar like shape, rarely will you see straight edges accept in small knives. I believe with the right type of design, this style of weapon could be quite formidable in the hands of an accomplished Klingon Warrior. I'm not that of course, I'm not even Klingon. An example of such a blade would be a bat'leth, the sweeping arch would enhance the natural moves of the Mok'bara. In order to keep the weight of the weapon down the blade itself was given a thin profile and this portion of the axe is offset to place the cutting edge of the blade in the same alignment as the bat'leth's main blade when held in one hand.  It is like... you're half Terran, you'll get this reference... like the Earth martial arts, one thing compliments the other, the mind, the body, the weapon, all complimenting each other,... flowing....Meaning that it is clear, when the entire form is performed, where one movement starts and another stops."

She undid her tunic and took it off placing it to one side leaving only her undershirt.  Then stood feet at about shoulder width, knees slightly bent to keep her centre of gravity lower, and started some the flowing movements of Mok'bara.

"I know some basic moves, mostly of the non-weaponry stances. And I've studied several forms of Terran martial arts.  Will that help?"

[Raynor Hughes]

Ruth gave Raynor a look of '... doesn't everyone?!' but answered fully.

"By my understanding, put simply Mok'bara is an ancient form of martial art, that aids in the development of concentration, coordination, flexibility, strength and speed. It requires weapons that have a certain flowing quality to them. The blades used seem to always a scimitar like shape, rarely will you see straight edges accept in small knives. I believe with the right type of design, this style of weapon could be quite formidable in the hands of an accomplished Klingon Warrior. I'm not that of course, I'm not even Klingon. An example of such a blade would be a bat'leth, the sweeping arch would enhance the natural moves of the Mok'bara. In order to keep the weight of the weapon down the blade itself was given a thin profile and this portion of the axe is offset to place the cutting edge of the blade in the same alignment as the bat'leth's main blade when held in one hand.  It is like... you're half Terran, you'll get this reference... like the Earth martial arts, one thing compliments the other, the mind, the body, the weapon, all complimenting each other,... flowing....Meaning that it is clear, when the entire form is performed, where one movement starts and another stops."

She undid her tunic and took it off placing it to one side leaving only her undershirt.  Then stood feet at about shoulder width, knees slightly bent to keep her centre of gravity lower, and started some the flowing movements of Mok'bara.

"I know some basic moves, mostly of the non-weaponry stances. And I've studied several forms of Terran martial arts.  Will that help?"

"Yes...I would say your 'understanding' pretty well covers it," Raynor said, raising his eyebrows and shaking his head with a grin.  Reaching out, the Klingon brushed the tips of his right fingers along Ruth's cheek.  "Are you sure you're not an android?  Did you just tap into the computer uplink or something?"  His grin was an easy one, a flash of white.

Raynor took a moment to admire Ruth's form under her teal shirt.  Starfleet uniforms tended to cling tightly, and...well, what was the harm in looking?  He wore his usual casual attire - dark olive drab pants and a black tank-top shirt.  "Mok'bara forms can easily transition into weaponry usage," he said, assuming an opening stance, feeling his joints loosen as he rolled his neck.  "You shouldn't have any trouble following along, then...begin."  The movements were almost ritualistic, flowing from one stance into another.

[Ruth Sigurdsdottir]

"Yes...I would say your 'understanding' pretty well covers it," Raynor said, raising his eyebrows and shaking his head with a grin.  Reaching out, the Klingon brushed the tips of his right fingers along Ruth's cheek.  "Are you sure you're not an android?  Did you just tap into the computer uplink or something?"  His grin was an easy one, a flash of white.

Raynor took a moment to admire Ruth's form under her teal shirt.  Starfleet uniforms tended to cling tightly, and...well, what was the harm in looking?  He wore his usual casual attire - dark olive drab pants and a black tank-top shirt.  "Mok'bara forms can easily transition into weaponry usage," he said, assuming an opening stance, feeling his joints loosen as he rolled his neck.  "You shouldn't have any trouble following along, then...begin."  The movements were almost ritualistic, flowing from one stance into another.

Totally unlike her, Ruth was momentarily flustered by Raynor's touch on her cheek, her heart quickened and she wasn't sure why she was feeling like that.  Feeling his hazel eyes on her she was glad that she had a pretty trim figure, and if he was going to look, well... she was glad that it might be pleasing to look at.

"Blame it on my father, he had us learn stuff about weaponry and martial art forms by rote, I've never unlearnt that skill!" she said falling in beside him and following his movements flawlessly.  She watching him closely admiring the way his muscles moved so masculine and...

Breaking the flow momentarily so that she could get her thoughts back to what they should be thinking about she rolled her shoulders and neck, gave Raynor a look as if to say 'You know I was looking, so were you, we're quits... now business..." she stepped straight back into it following his lead.

[Raynor Hughes]

Totally unlike her, Ruth was momentarily flustered by Raynor's touch on her cheek, her heart quickened and she wasn't sure why she was feeling like that.  Feeling his hazel eyes on her she was glad that she had a pretty trim figure, and if he was going to look, well... she was glad that it might be pleasing to look at.

"Blame it on my father, he had us learn stuff about weaponry and martial art forms by rote, I've never unlearnt that skill!" she said falling in beside him and following his movements flawlessly.  She watching him closely admiring the way his muscles moved so masculine and...

Breaking the flow momentarily so that she could get her thoughts back to what they should be thinking about she rolled her shoulders and neck, gave Raynor a look as if to say 'You know I was looking, so were you, we're quits... now business..." she stepped straight back into it following his lead.

"Then, Qapla' to your father," Raynor replied, nodding his head respectfully as he moved through his forms.  "My father was adept at hand-to-hand, but he saw little ceremony in it.  It was a tool he used in his job as a security officer."  Aside from admiring her form as a woman, Raynor had to admit that Ruth did move with a kind of grace that showed her training in such things.  As a scientist and a warrior, he could appreciate that.

Finishing the final form, Raynor reached over to the weapons rack, quickly scanning over everything available and deciding on a wooden broadsword.  He tossed it up, catching the hilt in another hand and offering the weapon pommel-first to Ruth.  "I hope you don't mind starting...big."

[Ruth Sigurdsdottir]

"Then, Qapla' to your father," Raynor replied, nodding his head respectfully as he moved through his forms.  "My father was adept at hand-to-hand, but he saw little ceremony in it.  It was a tool he used in his job as a security officer."  Aside from admiring her form as a woman, Raynor had to admit that Ruth did move with a kind of grace that showed her training in such things.  As a scientist and a warrior, he could appreciate that.

Finishing the final form, Raynor reached over to the weapons rack, quickly scanning over everything available and deciding on a wooden broadsword.  He tossed it up, catching the hilt in another hand and offering the weapon pommel-first to Ruth.  "I hope you don't mind starting...big."

Ruth nodded in acknowledgement at the utterance of 'Qapla' ' to her father.  Looking at the proffered  broadsword she took it and experimentally rolled it around her hand.

Looking Raynor straight in the eye she said "Oh I'm sure I can handle 'big'.  There's big then there's bloody huge.  I can handle whatever you give me!"

[Raynor Hughes]

Ruth nodded in acknowledgement at the utterance of 'Qapla' ' to her father.  Looking at the proffered  broadsword she took it and experimentally rolled it around her hand.

Looking Raynor straight in the eye she said "Oh I'm sure I can handle 'big'.  There's big then there's bloody huge.  I can handle whatever you give me!"

Barking a quick laugh, Raynor shook his head.  He reached up and ran a large hand over his hair, pulling the thin strip of leather away that he used as a tie and tossing it aside, his thick, dark hair spilling down around his shoulders.  Some would see long hair as an impediment, but a true warrior knew that such things were to be overcome.  He'd considered showing up to this in his full KDF uniform, but that might have been...much.

Raynor swung the sword around, testing the heft of the blade as he walked a slow, stalking circle around Ruth.  "Begin," he said, lunging forward and bringing the blade in a sideways sweep.

[Ruth Sigurdsdottir]

Barking a quick laugh, Raynor shook his head.  He reached up and ran a large hand over his hair, pulling the thin strip of leather away that he used as a tie and tossing it aside, his thick, dark hair spilling down around his shoulders.  Some would see long hair as an impediment, but a true warrior knew that such things were to be overcome.  He'd considered showing up to this in his full KDF uniform, but that might have been...much.

Raynor swung the sword around, testing the heft of the blade as he walked a slow, stalking circle around Ruth.  "Begin," he said, lunging forward and bringing the blade in a sideways sweep.

Ruth didn't allow herself to be distracted by his long flowing hair, as attractive as it was.

Circling around him counter clockwise she parried his sweep, rolled around his back and dropped to her haunches bringing her blade across the front of his legs just below his knees where she stopped just short not wanting to injure him.  Blade or wooden it would still leave a hefty bruise and she preferred to have her staff able to walk.

"Tsk Raynor you have to remember, I used to fight men easily your size... for fun.  Not..." she said with a slight shrug, putting her hand up to be pulled up, "... that this isn't fun!  I've done that move with quarterstaffs and spears and the like too."

[Raynor Hughes]

Ruth didn't allow herself to be distracted by his long flowing hair, as attractive as it was.

Circling around him counter clockwise she parried his sweep, rolled around his back and dropped to her haunches bringing her blade across the front of his legs just below his knees where she stopped just short not wanting to injure him.  Blade or wooden it would still leave a hefty bruise and she preferred to have her staff able to walk.

"Tsk Raynor you have to remember, I used to fight men easily your size... for fun.  Not..." she said with a slight shrug, putting her hand up to be pulled up, "... that this isn't fun!  I've done that move with quarterstaffs and spears and the like too."

Raynor felt a sharp crack as Ruth slammed her wooden weapon into his legs, though he could tell that she had likely pulled her strength on it.  "Hah!" he barked, shaking his head.  "That's what I get for underestimating you...though I should know better by this point."  Shifting the sword from one hand to another, the Klingon gave Ruth another considering look, telling himself that he was taking measure of her mettle instead of enjoying how tightly her uniform undershirt fit.  "So."  Raynor slipped the sword back into the rack, taking out twin short swords, created in the style of an old Roman gladius.  He tossed one through the air to Ruth.  "You're clever, and quick.  But attacks will not always come from a large, lumbering, meter-long blade."

[Ruth Sigurdsdottir]

Raynor felt a sharp crack as Ruth slammed her wooden weapon into his legs, though he could tell that she had likely pulled her strength on it.  "Hah!" he barked, shaking his head.  "That's what I get for underestimating you...though I should know better by this point."  Shifting the sword from one hand to another, the Klingon gave Ruth another considering look, telling himself that he was taking measure of her mettle instead of enjoying how tightly her uniform undershirt fit.  "So."  Raynor slipped the sword back into the rack, taking out twin short swords, created in the style of an old Roman gladius.  He tossed one through the air to Ruth.  "You're clever, and quick.  But attacks will not always come from a large, lumbering, meter-long blade."

Ruth caught the Romanesque sword deftly and got the measure of it's weight and balance.  "Hmm...", she said, "... rather like Viking blades.  That's just fair warning since I think I rather surprised you with the longsword.  Although we are sparring, we are ... friends, I don't intend causing you injury, and while I can't cut you with these, it could cause a hefty amount of bruising.  I don't think I want to be rubbing salve into..."

She stopped and swallowed hard, shaking her head and grinning as she ran an appraising eye over his torso and muscled arms.  "... I mean Ilana would think I'd been beating you up!"