A long time ago in a galaxy far far away, there lived a Kaleesh warrior named Qymaen jai Sheelal, a great warrior who defended his world against it's attackers. But for his world he paid a grave price, lost his dearest friend, lost his humanity, eve...
The ex-Separatist general walked with pride through the halls of Beacon academy toward his classroom, students stopping and staring at him everywhere he went, he was growing fond of being the center of everyone's eye without the reason being the hopes he wouldn't propel a lightsaber through their chests or relieve them of their limbs. His heavy clawed feet dinged and clanked against the tiled floors, his red and blue cape flowing behind him, his mask now baring a single red stripe that went down the very center of the ornament, a testament toward his first real friend since his days as a warlord on Kaleesh.
He had known that he considered her a true friend the moment he'd caught himself purposely making his training designed to be lighter on her than the other students, and this had shocked even himself, causing him to tatter the lesson plans he had made and start again, this time everything was much more brutal toward everyone. Grimm didn't have a concept of mercy. Neither did those White Fang terrorists. He could not afford to be lax with them during their training, else they'd never survive in true and dishonest combat situations, as a mentor he owed them to be as brutal as he possibly could.
That would keep them all alive if they survived the training.
He walked into the classroom, folding his arms behind him as he entered his class once again, his Soulless One starfighter still suspended over his makeshift arena with the strong cables holding it firmly. The general looked around the classroom, the various desks empty and waiting for their respective students. Before the classroom was to be filled with students he went around the room, doing his best to ensure everything was in place, today would be a basic game of capture the flag, nothing all that special, but for a first day, he may as well be a little more gentle than he normally would.
He walked over and took a stance on the center of his stage, hearing the bell ring and students flooding in through the doors, the poor faces of Jaune Arc and Blake Belladonna were among the crowd of students largely unknown to him, they were quite unlucky to of been separated from their teammates by class schedules. The two looked to the mechanical Jedi hunter and gulped, him simply nodding to them as the various students took their seats around the room, papers sat on their desks.
"Welcome pupils!" he called out before breaking into a fit of coughing, his mechanized voice echoing throughout the room and landing on the ears of his new students "I am your newest instructor. I do not care for the title of professor, so simply stay to naming me General instead." he walked onward, holding out a hand and waving around the classroom in a rather theatric way "This class will focus mostly on combat scenarios. Mission training. Here, I will put you through Hell and you had better be able to see yourself to the other side, punches will not be pulled for your sake."
As he walked around the room waving his arm about to emphasize everything he said he was trying to decide just what sort of location would work the best for his first game with these students, but then he paused as he made his choice, looking back to the students and holding up an orange cloth "This is the flag." he then tied it around his wrist and laughed loudly before stating
"Together, your task is to get this cloth from my wrist and get back out again. Fail and I'm certain you will be horribly injured." he then spoke one last time, raising up a control, clicking a button and the room's floor lowered, a jungle raising back up, he began backing up toward the brush with one last laugh "Now. Get me if you can." he then dashed into the brush, the eyes of the students extremely wide
Jaune was the first to speak up, gulping at what had just been said "You mean... we have to go after him... oh gods we're so done..." he mumbled under his breath, sweat rolling down the sides of his face while Blake had already gotten to her feet, her Gambol Shroud already in place on her back "Blake, don't tell me you're actually going in after him..."
Blake looked down at Jaune and shrugged "May as well, we can just try to trail him while he's thrashing the other kids. Then when he's distracted we'll swoop in and take the flag. Simple enough." she then leaned down and handed him Crocea Mors "Let's go Jaune, we've only got an hour and a half of class. So it's only an hour and a half to get this dealt with." she then smirked "And I'm sure it would impress Weiss if you and I won~" she joked on him
The blonde was suddenly standing at the edge of the rainforest, calling back to his faunus friend "Hurry it up then! We've not got all day!" he charged into the forest before Blake turned and looked to the camera with a shit-eating grin then back to the forest before the screen faded to black
ONE HOUR AND SEVENTEEN MINUTES LATER
Several students lay around the room beaten and bruised, some even cut and actually injured by the General. Jaune was at the bottom of the largest pile, letting out a continuous pained groan into the floor. The General himself was at his desk laying back and staring at his wrist. It was gone.
Not just the ribbon.
His hand was gone. In fact, he saw it on the ground a few meters from him. Right next to a proud smiling Blake who wore the cloth around her bicep. The girl had used literally every other student to her advantage and attacked while the General had been busy. She was the winner of the exercise through and through... The General had just been bested by a teenage girl.
"Is this how Skywalker feels...." he asked himself aloud while staring at the smug cat
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