[Ch'Rihan's past...]
After some time wandering about the ship, Aemhig finds herself stepping through a large tare in the starboard side of the hull-- on the direct opposite side of the ship from Rylan and the other WS explorers.
'Where is this? Why are the holo-emitters projecting a farm around the ship in a crisis ' situation?' Aemhig thinks, not understanding her surroundings. The woman's vision blurs slightly, and her head gives a mild, dull throb of pain.
From around the edge of a building, apparently a store house or barn for the 'farm', and slightly hidden under the shadow of an old bent tree and amongst the knotted wood of a fence, an observer watches the curious woman. Though she is recognizably Rihan, she bears no crest he recognizes. He does, however, fully grasp that she is carrying a short barrel pistol.
Wobbling unsteadily on her legs, Aemhig trudges by unaware...
[Wildstrike]
Rhagarokk raises a brow, "I suppose it's na fully functional yet. I..." The Commander decides the better of it, and takes out his multicorder and scans for disruptor signatures, knowing that Aemhig probably wouldn't be anywhere without it. "Oh for elements sake..."
D`Tarik looks questioningly up at the bearded officer, not sure what has happened. Rhagarokk dashes past D'Tarik, only shouting that Aemhig's signature is, for some reason, off near the farm house. The Centurion stands there confused, then sighs, realizing he will never get a chance to go look for Emni. Gathering up all the speed his short legs can muster, DT runs down the ladder now permanently hung from the edge of the WS, the new portal to the outside world, and out across the endless green fields, into the future....
[Behind the farm house]
Though peripherally aware, as per her years of training, Aemhig remains guarded to the observation. The observer creeps out as the woman moves past his' post: silently, with practiced caution, in the cat like walk of a killer. He moves up behind her-- raising a dull pick from the grass as he moves, and drops it towards the woman's back.
With the abuse of years, and the paranoia born of it, Aemhig instinctively rides the impact forward into a roll, across the grass. Coming up into a squat and looking over her shoulder, t`Shibae's eyes get a distant, glazed look. in a slightly broken voice, not quite sounding right, the woman asks why she has been struck again, and turns to face her blurry opponent.
Strangely, both combatants assume similar combat stances-- something like Kervashrec (Rihan kick boxing). This oddity does not escape the Captain's mind.
"Au`sej vas`rek?" The farmer cocks his head, ever more interested in the intruder than before. Toying with her, her steps into a forward assault stance and tightens his legs for the spring. Aehmig does not answer, at least not with words.
The bouts are fierce but brief. Though the style does not allow blocking, focus on pure speed, abusive impacts, and dodging ability keep both combatants fully engaged. Aemhig, for her part, keeps up a good fight, slipping into the old patterns of beat or be beaten-- almost setting in to hum the old training music's tune. But, to her surprise, the man holds much strength and speed on her. Being an agent (naturally of higher muscle density than the average Rihan) being put off --even out matched by another Rihan is truly distressing.
Double back swing, rolled punch, reverse uppercut *counter*-- Aemhig's arm snaps under the pressure.
Limp arm diversion: swing, ankle-shin-knee-hip-groin-pex-sternum-throat-curatted-nose spinning heel kicks all the way up the Farmer's body. The Man drops back, surprised at the weaker woman's retaliation.
...As the battle rages on, Aemhig's eyes get cloudier and cloudier; the pain farther and farther away...
She is alone, sitting under the warm gaze of Phiharu's sun, in her favorite garden. Gazing out through the gentle waves of heat, she watches the progress of the clouds as they travel along the rock face far away to the north. This is her place-- her special place. The dojo.
A white flash, out of place amongst the unchanging place of training, distracts her. Odd: her neck wont look left-- wont will itself to look on over the wispy grasses planted by the agency to hide this place from the passing eyes of the peasants.
Puzzled, the woman stretches out, only to find deep pain. Odd: so much pain in such a quiet place. Pain enough to blur her vision, and loose site of the other students and her sensei off practicing on the paddek...
When Rhagarokk and DT arrive on scene, aemhig is laid out on her back, not breathing-- her open glazed eyes staring up into the endless sky. The Rihan farmer-- probably an old warrior of Ketcheleb, lays mangled and ripped beyond recognition. Taking no cue, and only a moment to grab his scanner, DT checks over the TAG supervisor's vitals.
"Rekkhai, this is naaaa good."
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