The Young Warrior and the Warlord

[Cptn Corizon 0]

Corizon finally escaped from the horrors around him. Everywhere it seemed the universe was falling apart. And though it was calm for the moment, he felt a coming storm. The doors to the holodeck slid open.

 

Dressed in traditional Dameon attire—a finely woven red jacket that most closely resembled a haori, with a simple white kimono beneath, and red Karusan-bakama over the kimono but beneath the haori jacket. On his face four, two on either side, dark red claw-like marks stretched from the crest of his gentle cheekbones to his silver hairline.

 

The holodeck program came to life, and he was surrounded by images. He was on a hill top, with simple bamboo buildings scattered in no particular pattern. Further up the narrow path, a stone shrine sat motionless.

 

“Begin program.”

 

At his command, the village became filled with Dameon villagers going about their daily life. Corizon exhaled. Life as it was intended. Before the troubles of intergalactic domination came to his people.

 

Walking on bare feet he headed towards the shrine, nodding at a few of the villagers as he went. He’d grown up in a different world. The simple lives of the Dameon people had changed drastically over the last thousand years. In his time, his people struggled with being a third rate power. Once feared throughout the Quadrant, they were no longer the proud race whose very growl sent enemies scurrying.

 

But those were the least of his worries, and he hadn’t come here to be nostalgic. He took a few more steps, then he heard the noises.

 

“Why have you come here,” a booming voice called to him.

 

“I have come here to free the people from you,” Corizon replied not yet turning to see who was speaking to him.

 

A deep guttural laugh responded. “Foolish boy,” the voice said. “You can not defeat me.”

 

Corizon finally turned, his clawed fingers resting on the hilt of his sword. Standing a few feet infront of him were seven men, six standing, and one on a four legged beast that most closely resembled what human fantasy writers called a dragon.

 

“I would kill you myself,” the mounted man said laughing, “But you are not worthy of my dismounting.”

 

“You will fall,” Corizon said growling.

 

“We shall see,” the man said, looking towards the armed Dameon’s next to him, all dressed in black. “Kill him.”

Corizon smiled widely, showing his fangs. The six men rushed towards him. Drawing his sword, called an Ak-Ji’Lha by the Dameon, the short silver sword resembled an Autumn-Dao, the biggest difference being the barbed claw like hooks running up the blades.

 

Though his people’s time of conquest had past, their warrior spirit remained. As a young boy, Corizon had learned many forms of traditional martial arts, as well as armed combat. As a young man, he’d become a master of the five excellences: calligraphy, poetry, painting, traditional medicine, and martial arts; particularly the latter. At the Dameon Academy he’d studied under the master Ku-Lah, learning his skills with the Ak-Ji’Lha among other bladed weapons. On Earth, he spent many years studying the human martial arts as well, incorporating them into his own style.

 

The six goons rushed at Corizon, drawing their own weapons. Wheeling his own weapon between hands, Corizon sidestepped the first attacker, but quickly turned and caught hm unexpectedly with the edge of his sword.

 

The others quickly drew back and formed a semi-circle around Corizon. One by one they fell in impressive fashion, had any of his crew been watching, the deadly proficiency Corizon showed would have likely scared them witless.

 

Stained with the holographic blood of his opponents, Corizon turned to face the man mounted upon the beast. “Is that the best you can do, mighty warlord.”

 

Sneering, fangs bared, the man dismounted, a long sword hanging from his own attire. “You are more formidable than I gave you credit for, boy. But you have much to learn; to bad it will cost you your life to learn this lesson.”

 

Corizon only smiled, his ears twitching. The man drew his sword and placed both his hands on the hilt. The two circled one another for a few moments, each making the occasional strife at the other, neither wishing to commit fully to the battle.

 

Finally Corizon countered a strike from his opponent meeting the long sword with his own, with his empty hand, he struck him with his palm, forcing the warlord to let out a grunt and withdrawal.

 

“Impressive,” he said whipping a small trickle of blood from his nose. “You are a talented swordsman, but how are your hand to hand skills.”

 

Smiling widely, Corizon wheeled his blade. The warlord placed his own sword on the ground at his feet carefully and assumed a position with his clawed fingers curled slightly inward.

 

Nodding, Corizon placed his sword at his feet and formed into his own position. Drawing on the human, Tiger Claw, his own style had become known as the Vengeful Wolf Claw or Dameo AkHuggk Sku-ji in his native tongue. Dameons had a distinct advantage in hand to hand combat over most other species, and Corizon used it as fully to his own advantage as he possibly could.

 

Moving quickly upon the balls of his clawed feet, Corizon struck first slashing at the warlords face with his claws. The Warlord countered with a blocking move, and struck a blow to Corizon’s chest knocking him back slightly.

 

“You will have to do better than that,” the warlord said grinning.

 

Unphased, Corizon charged at his opponent once more delivering a blow the chest with one hand and striking at his face with the other. The Warlord reeled and responded with an empty strike. Shifting his stance Corizon moved onto one leg and delivered a spinning hook kick, catching the warlord with the trailing claw on his back leg, opening a gash on his face.

 

Back peddling, the Warlord ignored the blood on his face and recomposed himself. “Perhaps I did not give you enough credit, young warrior.”

 

Halting his advance, Corizon paused and reformed into his attacking position with claws and fingers outstretched. “Indeed Warlord.”

 

“Commander Corizon please report to CNC.” a voice called into the holodeck.

 

Trying not to growl, “Pause Program.”