The Sanders Fleet

Ethereal - Logicality/Prinxiety

{TW: Some fighting, lotta aliens, some swearing

I dunno what this one is either but have it anyway}

Virgil bared his teeth in a snarl as Roman knocked his spear from his hands. He backpedaled quickly and analyzed the situation.

His opponent was closing in with a smirk. His weapon lay a few feet away. There was no chance for Virgil to get to it without having to distract Roman.

That he could do.

Virgil glared at Roman and planted his feet. He dropped into a crouch allowing a feral growl to break from his chest. Roman blinked in surprise at the sudden wildness.

And that was really all Virgil needed. He lunged sideways, slapping his hands down on his spear and throwing himself forward in a somersault to get some room to work.

He came to his feet and spun around, grinning at Roman.

"You can't just do that! You scared me!" Roman whined.

"You have to be ready for anything." A voice called.

Roman huffed angrily and attacked again.

Battle-Commander Logan stood on the small viewing platform, watching the two young fighters. They were both smart, strong boys, but they were still learning.

The fight ended, Virgil coming out as the victor. Roman began to complain again and Logan made his way down to the training floor. 

"You're getting much better, Virgil." He told the boy. Virgil had only recently joined them, ostracized and chased away from the reclusive planet of Ogarvis.

The Ephen's bright tiger stripes lit up purple, though he kept his expression neutral as he nodded. "Thank you, Battle-Commander."

"Roman." Logan turned to the young Tholva. "You need to be quicker. And you can't let an enemy get in your head that easily."

Roman sighed, the fins that served as his ears drooping unhappily. "Yes, Battle-Commander."

"But you held your own well, considering it all. You two are dismissed."

As Logan turned away, he heard Virgil hiss something in his planet's native language. Roman replied heatedly in his own guttural tongue, and the two were at it again.

They spent more time throwing punches out of combat practice than they did in it. Logan shook his head and made a note to lecture them about it later. Again.

He returned to his place on the observation deck, surveying other warriors who were locked in various fights.

"You seem tense, darling, what's wrong?" A soft voice asked as arms wrapped around his waist. Logan offered himself a small smile.

"The young ones in the third battalion are fighting again. They're constantly at each other's throats, I'm starting to consider needing to separate them."

He turned in Patton's arms and smiled down at his husband.

Patton was... a rarity on the ship. A rarity everywhere, really. There were very few of his species left. His six eyes blinked in sets of two, shining lovingly as he looked up at Logan.

"How was the Tix'ix delegation?"

Patton shrugged, sighing and letting go of Logan to fiddle with his security chain. 

"They dragged my general appearance and presentation through the mud in their native language, then got very quiet when I answered a question one of them asked in flawless Yotov, in their dialect."