Star Trek: Theurgy

[ Lieutenant Valyn Amarik | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: All!
[Show/Hide]The invitation had gone out, shipwide. There was to be a ‘dance’. Holodeck five had been reserved for the evening and set up from top to bottom to serve as a good location for the match. There was a holographic bar set up, lined with various bottles and glasses. Some of which were synthetic alcohol, some of which were not. The holographic bartender was a tall, boisterous human, wearing what appeared to be the jumpsuit that marked the birth of the Federation. It was blue, with red stripes on the shoulders. His rank denoted that he was a commander. There was a nearby table, lined with food from various cultures scattered within and without the Federation. In front of the bar and food tables, were several folding chairs, set in front of some tables. Not far from those were more folding chairs, scattered around the perimeter of a boxing ring.

The walls and ground were from the same era as the bartender. They were situated in what appeared to be a launch bay from an NX-class vessel, though it had apparently been increased in scale. Whatever NX class the hologram was on, was massive. In any case, it was clearly for the aesthetics alone. Next to the ring, was another small table. On it was a box, devoid of contents but open for all to see. Another vintage-clad officer was standing next to it, with a small clipboard and a pen.

Lieutenant Amarik pushed her way inside of the empty looking holodeck and grinned. It’d been far too long since she’d been able to participate in a friendly fight. One where she wasn’t actively attempting to kill her opponent or be killed herself. This was just what she needed to blow off some steam, and she assumed that she wouldn’t be the only one that felt that way. “Thea, can you populate this with a mixture of officers. Various uniforms, various eras. Throw on some music too...era…” She thought, “21st century to present. Let's keep it upbeat.” She grinned and removed her combadge, dropping it into the small box in front of the ring. Her attention turned to the officer, “If anyone's combadge goes off while it’s in here, inform them immediately and have it brought to them. Can’t neglect all our duties.”

She started wandering over to the bar, shooting a glance at the bartender as the room began to populate with various random officers, clad in every Starfleet uniform the computer had on file. They ranged from the NX uniforms to the present. “Perfect.” She glanced around, pointing to the Romulan ale as she made herself comfortable at a barstool.

She just had to wait for participants to start showing up. In the meantime, she sipped her drink and looked around. It was relaxed, which was exactly what she was aiming for. Holograms wearing the classic red, woolen uniforms of Kirks era with Admiralty pips were socializing with crewmen from the time of the Enterprise-D not far from her, comparing stories that had been pulled from random archive files. “Let’s keep the arch showing and open.” She addressed Thea directly again, as it materialized, she smiled, “Thanks.”

Valyn herself was dressed in a relaxed fashion. She was wearing some cargo pants and matching combat boots, with a tank top. If she was going to be fighting she wanted to be able to move quickly and comfortably.

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Participants:
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[ Lieutenant Arven Leux | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] @BipSpoon

Arven needed another kind of therapy after the day he'd had, things had been weird, to say the very least, over this week so far, and now, he needed to punch something and get punched in return. And thusly, Arven made his way walking through the corridors of the Theurgy, drawing stares, not only for his attire or lack thereof but for the impressively muscled physique that he had worked so hard and obsessively to build. And so it was that the towering Trill made his way into the holodeck for the fight night, certainly dressed for the occasion, he immediately swung by the table with the box dropping his comm-badge into the nearly empty receptacle with a satisfying clunk. Arven was dressed for the event, his fists and feet wrapped with cloth bandages, and wearing just a pair of standard-issue gym shorts in the medical teal. The only adornment aside from the row of natural spots that went all the way up and down Arven's powerful physique was a caduceus tattoo on his left deltoid, the words 'You are not forgotten' in a banner underneath the base of the staff. His powerfully muscled legs and broad chest and shoulders indicated that he had an extensive amount of weight training and athletic experience. The sharp definition of his muscles paired with his low body fat and the lines of spots made for a striking appearance in his mind.

The dull thud of his combadge hitting the floor of the box made the barest hint of a smile come to his lips, the rich violet eyes scanning the crowd looking for someone that belonged. The scattered holograms were a nice touch, but they didn't help him find who he was looking for. Eventually, his eyes settled on the Romulan that was nearly a foot shorter than he was sitting on a barstool drinking something vividly blue. Taking note of the impressive muscle tone she had, the smile grows just a touch wider. he sends a wink Valyn's way and joins her at the bar just long enough to speak to the bartender. "Sake, warm a double shot." Arven takes the larger than ordinary Sake glass and slugs back the body temperature liquor. The sensation of it warmed him instantly and somehow made him feel centered in the process. Warm beverages always did that to him.

"And you're the hostess for the night's festivities! Why wait for others? What do you say, lets get this party started, yeah?" Setting the empty glass down, he gave Valyn a polite smile and nodded towards the ring. He then cracks his knuckles and stretches his arms out a little, and he'd come to blow off some steam and relax in some small way even if he'd be paying the price with his body later. But that was his problem, and the man was getting the psychiatric help he needed, but something always felt good about physical training to Arven. He didn't reasonably expect that Valyn would be up for things before anyone else showed up, so he was taking the chance and moving towards the ring. The music that was playing had him smiling a little, some old nostalgic stuff. After the Party that Reggie and Kate had thrown, this particular brand of music was starting to grow on him.

Tonight would be a barrel of fun for the man, and his training wouldn't be relegated to punching a bag or fighting against a hologram. He'd feel something more visceral and real. Those were some of the violent tendencies that he recognized that he needed to control, but at least tonight, he might get knocked senseless, so that was a bonus in his regard for the night.

[ CM3 Samala (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Samala) & PO3 Lorad (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Lorad) | Passwayway | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] 
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"Samala, this is not a good idea,” Lorad told his sister in their native tongue as she walked down the passageway towards Holodeck 05. “There is not a member of this crew that I cannot physically overpower in single combat through sheer strength alone. I would take increased injuries from some of the better trained ones but in the end, I only have to grab them and slam them into the ground to gain the advantage. I can lift most of them with a single arm,” the hulking former shock trooper reminded his sister.

“Fine, you can sit back and watch while I have some fun then,” she told her brother. They had both received the same invitation, but it seemed that only she was able to see the fun that was hiding behind words. That and he wasn’t aboard at that moment. They were actually being allowed to hit each other, to test themselves in a way that you couldn’t do with mock fights in the gym. And unlike her brother it seemed, she wasn’t afraid to hurt her fellow crew. That was what sickbay was for wasn’t it?

The two of them entered the holodeck, one on foot and the other on the screen of a PADD, and Samala immediately headed for the box near the ring that she had been told was where she needed to drop her combadge. As she did so, she asked openly, “So what rules are there? Any limits?”

[ Lt. ThanIda zh'Wann (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=ThanIda_zh%27Wann) | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @BipSpoon @Tae @Stegro88 
[Show/Hide]One good sign that it was shore leave were these initiatives, the present one being an open invitation for a fight night on the holodeck.

After the recent events, Ida was inclined to let her hair down. The hours she committed to her drawing wasn't cutting it, and she had no inclination to just imbibe synthehol in one of the lounges. The opportunity for a 'boxing' match, of which Starfleet hand-to-hand combat was closest in her own repertoire, suited her far better. She was still on edge after the mission to Azurite Station, and sparring always lent her a feeling of assertiveness and stability. She centred herself in something she had great experience with, and she hoped to alleviate any lingering anxiety.

Ida had no idea whom might be there, merely aware that it had been Lieutenant Amarik that had arranged the event. The Romulan had been a great addition to the Security Department, but with the opportunity to fall back on old experience and transferring to Intelligence, Ida could understand her decision. They had been on the mission to Azurite Station together, so Ida looked forward to trading a couple of words with her when she was able.

Stepping into the holodeck through the arch, Ida was dressed in a black sports bra and shorts, and she carried her gloves by the strings - knuckles already taped up. A quiet smile came to her as she looked around and saw the setting of the holo program. It didn't take long before she spotted where she'd put her combadge, so she headed there first. She took it from her chest and dropped it among the others, before looking around.

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Outfit: [Show/Hide]

[Reggie Suder | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy ] attn: @BipSpoon   @Tae   @Stegro88    @Auctor Lucan 


Reggie was not a fighter by nature.   Sure she flew Valravn and kicked ass in a cockpit if she did say so herself, but when it came to the whole concept of fighting someone inside a ring just... didn't do it for her.

Watching and egging on two people beating the crap out of each other was a whole different story however.   So when Valyn's invitation came, much as hers had gone out for the concert she hosted a few nights ago, she knew she would attend.  Would she throw her combadge in the box and step in against an opponent?  Probably not.    But would she go, watch the action, have perhaps too much to drink and egg on the fighters to hit harder and faster?  Oh hell yeas.

Tonights wardrobe had proven much simpler than the concert.  A pair of black leggings, a teal grey tank top over a sports brassier, a pair of socks and gym shoes, and her Lone Wolves zip up  was all she needed.   She hadn't yet changed her hair back to the black it had been before the concert, but as she tied it up, she considered the possibility of keeping it.   T'Less seemed to have appreciated it the other night, and Reggie sure as hell did.

The doors parted for her and she entered the gym program.  It was a far cry from her concert hall, much more stark much more harsh, but no less awesome in it's throwback look to what appeared to be just barely pre-Federation era design.  Already there was action in the ring, but she had a few stops to make first.

With her badge in her pocket, she moseyed up to the bar and ordered herself a beer.    The bartender obliged, popping the cap off before handing it off to her.   She took a swig, thanked the bartender and moved off.   She found Valyn and stepped over to her side.

"Thanks for setting this up.  Love the program."  She paused for a moment.  "Oh and these are for you."

She pulled a pair of cigars out of her pocket and held them up for Valyn.   There were a few more in her pocket, and while she suspected most of them might end up with the hostess before the night was out...she intended on smoking at least one or two of them herself.

"Thought you might appreciate them."

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OOC - Reggie's look (without the Lone Wolves zip up)
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[ Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] @BipSpoon @Tae @Stegro88  @Auctor Lucan @P.C. Haring

Her head jerking back and to the side, Enyd physically pulled herself from the intrusive memory and back into her bathroom in her quarters. Enyd refocused her eyes upon her reflection in the mirror, watching her chest shudder as she sought to regain control and calm her racing heart. Her knuckles were white as she gripped a towel between her hands. In the mirror’s reflection, dressed as she was in a pair of black form-hugging high-waisted shorts (https://vintagedancer.com/wp-content/uploads/1950s-fitness-gymm-shorts-top-375x403.jpg) and a moderately loose-fitted red t-shirt tucked into the shorts, Enyd saw her skin prickle with goosebumps as it reacted to the stimuli in her mind more than the moderate temperature in her quarters.

It was maddening, this awareness of what was wrong with her and yet feeling almost powerless to fight against it. Ever since she’d returned from Qo’Nos on the fun outing when they’d briefly been the recipients of the Tal Shiar’s definition of “fun,” Enyd had been plagued with recurring nightmares of her abduction by the Directorate on Cardassia and the subsequent weeks of torture, all culminating in Javec’s dying breath being whispered out of his body while in her arms. It didn't help matters that less than 24hrs from the Tal Shiar encounter, Enyd had again been the recipient of bonds and beatings at the hands of Mo'Kai rebels. Both situations had resolved themselves as best they could be resolved, but that didn't stop the hauntings.

She knew the symptoms—difficulty concentrating while on duty, trouble sleeping, increased irritability towards her colleagues, decreased patience towards herself, longer spouts of absent-mindedness, a general sense of emotional numbness while feeling the need to remain on constant guard against attack—well enough to recognize that she was dealing with post-traumatic stress. Enyd snorted as she dropped the towel and set about pulling her hair back into a tight bun at the back of her head. It was a good thing the worst of the symptoms had occurred after her mission with L'Nari. If they'd been this bad earlier it was quite likely that the Caitian would still be licking her literal wounds.

Enyd had once been bedmates with this anxiety and fear, and it had taken the “cruel to be kind” machinations of Anderson to get her head out of her own ass and back on track with her career and position. There was far too much at stake to allow this stress, this resurgence of tumultuous thoughts and emotions, to control her and put the rest of her department at risk, including the entirety of the ship. She had to DO something, and since pushing her body to its physical and mental limits had helped her purge the stress before, Enyd deduced that doing something similar this time might also help. A fun-filled holodeck adventure with Victor would not suffice, and neither would a training session with the Chief. She needed something visceral.

After leaving her reflection, and any doubts she had towards joining this sort of activity, Enyd pulled on her tennis shoes and headed towards the holodeck. Enyd knew she was no boxer. All her prior training had been martial arts in nature, though she had a rudimentary understanding of the art of boxing. As she walked through the corridors, Enyd did not engage with others. She was wholly intent upon getting to the holodeck and getting into the ring, lacking the emotional energy to engage in much else until she got her ass handed to her at least once or twice.

For Enyd knew herself well enough to recognize that was something she needed. She’d earlier been placed once more into a situation she’d been helpless to control, helpless to prevent, and people had gotten killed. By participating in this event with her colleagues and friends, Enyd would be reminding her subconscious that a feeling of helplessness was not a fact in and of itself. She was still alive. She had a supportive network already established on this ship. And she was still determined to live up to the legacy set before her by the grit and gumption of her ancestors. Everyone dealt with their stress differently and as punishing physicality had worked before, Enyd would damned if she didn't try it again.

Moving unfalteringly into the holodeck, Enyd didn’t pause to see who else was milling about. She went with self-assured steps to the appropriate place and dropped her combadge into the jar. With the clattering reply of its drop, Enyd felt a weight lift from her shoulders. Only then, did Enyd reign in her thoughts enough to take note of the others in the room. Some were friends, others were acquaintances and almost friends, and still others were strangers.

Unlike her norm, Enyd did not engage in the frivolity of small talk. Instead, she moved to the bar and ordered a water, sipping at it slowly as she continued to study the room’s occupants. Her fingers were almost twitching with their desire to be used in a fight, and without realizing it, Enyd’s left foot tapped out a staccato rhythm. She was in it now and she would see it through.

[ Lieutenant Frank Arnold | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @All!
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It had been more than ten years since Frank had stepped into a ring with an opponent that wasn’t photonic, for anything more than a friendly spar. He was at least fifteen pounds heavier now than when he’d fought as a southpaw cruiserweight from a deuterium freighter at the academy, and across the inter-Federation planetary amateur league. Those had been real fights to be sure. He’d kept up on his training, but almost exclusively as a form of exercise. But when he’d heard about this little diddy, he’d been very excited. He was almost positive many of the true fighters of the crew could break most of the bones in his body in a knock-down, drag out fight. But this was boxing, boxing was a sport, with rules, and some of the best fighters in MMA circuits of times past, made for terrible boxers. Frank was mildly confidant he might have the most experience with the sport out of the attendees, even if he wasn’t the best fighter. This lent him a fair amount of confidence he’d at least have a moderate showing, but moreso it armed him with a cheeky idea.
 
The thing that made the best boxers the best in Frank’s opinion, apart from their ability to win matches, was showmanship. So Frank had decided to put a little number together, to have a show. He doubted the host, with everyone’s fun on their mind, would be too perturbed. He’d spent half the night before and the one before that, once he’d been done getting decontaminated, giddily working on some holodeck modifications. Once he had figured out where the event had been, back-shunting his little show to write into Valyn’s simulation had been relatively easy, his new posting had left him the authority for the well-meant override. He’d even gotten to employ some tricks he’d learned from his Orion friend.
 
When Frank arrived to the holodeck, he chimed the door to open, and spoke gently, “Arnold, the Show, Run One.” Without further ado, there was a slight dimming of the lights on the holodeck, and complete with a little fog machine smoke, backlit by invisible flashing lights, Frank stepped into the room. He’d replicated a full length burgundy boxer’s robe, embroidered in gold on the back with a saxophone, and the words ‘The Brass Bruiser’ a callback to his time fighting. He’d paired it with a pair of white shorts with black tie, and red Everlast gloves, the same style Ali had worn in Zaire. The music ((see attached)) that played was a mashup of callbacks to boxing legends from the twentieth and twenty-first centuries including pre and post draft Ali, Frazier, Tyson, Rocky Balboa, Manny Pacquio, and Kell Brook. Frank was particularly proud of the music, it made him giggle a little under his hood as he strode in flanked and followed by photonic renditions of Mickey Goldmill (Burgess Meredith), Howard Cosell, and of course Michael Buffer, carrying a mystically suspended wire microphone as they pushed through gaudy fog. As if over an imaginary loudspeaker sounded Buffer, “Ladies and Gentlemen, the contender, fighting at a weight of two hundred and seven pounds, Frank Arrrrnold, the Brass Bruiiiiiser. From the Mandalay Bay Las Vegas, Let’s get ready to ruuuumbleeeeeeee.”
 
As the song concluded Frank dropped his robe which Mickey so graciously collected, which revealed his replicated outfit, arms raised with a shirtless barrel chest, and a healthy measure of severe burn scars stemming down the right side his chest and right arm. He approached the combadge box, his holographic posse dispersed to mingle with the other generated audience, and Cosell dropped his combadge with a satisfying clink into the box. He took a brief moment to study the ring via a walkabout, a standard four post on canvas, as was tradition.
 
He was here to have fun, and he’d already had a good portion of it, anyone who listened closely could hear him humming ‘All of the lights’ under his breath, as he maintained a childlike smile and enjoyed the occasional self-satisfied giggle. He scanned the room for anyone he might know, unable to enjoy a drink yet as his hands were tied up in bright red boxing gloves. He hadn’t quite thought that one out. He spied Reggie who he’d spent an interesting afternoon a couple of days ago, trying to get unstuck from a decon chamber. He also spied the hostess she was standing with, who looked strangely familiar to him. He offered a polite nod if regarded, but otherwise hung off to the side for a moment or two, deciding who to make small talk with. He spied Than’Ida, by now someone he was fairly familiar with. He shrugged to himself and wandered over to Valyn and Reggie, looking a regular grinning fool in his Ali getup, boxing gloves, and no shirt, and offered, “Too much? I couldn’t help it, showmanship is a dear part of boxing to me.” He offered a polite smile to Reggie, and a nod, “Fancy seeing you again so soon.”

[ Lieutenant Valyn Amarik | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ]  [Show/Hide]Valyn sat there quietly, surveying her handiwork as she idly watched the holodeck arch for anyone to come. First among them, was a trill with whom she was unfamiliar with. Truthfully, she was still getting to know much of the crew. Her experience with trill too, was somewhat limited. “Interestin’ choice.” She gave a quick nod towards the Sake, before she smirked at him. “That’d be me. But...I’m a bit keen on waiting for others, not so fun kicking the livin’ shit outta each other without an audience. ‘Sides, still gotta finish this.” She gave her Romulan ale a little shake. She gave the bartender a wave and pointed to the empty cup that Arven had set down. Currently playing was some old-earth hiphop, a song named ‘Amatz’. Probably not for everyone, but the mix really was a massive blend of different genres, the next song would likely be some rock music.

“I’m Valyn. Amarik.” She gave him a nod and offered a hand out to him. “Intelligence.” Because, of course it’d be an intelligence officer hosting a large gathering of officers to punch one another.

She heard the arch open again, and her face fell as she saw the pair. The Reman and the halfling. She took a large swallow from her drink and let out a deep breath. Of course, she had experience with both of them, given the rescue of Fisher that had taken place nearly a week prior. The holographic officer next to the box would recite the rules plainly for Samala, “You’re here to blow off steam not maim anyone. Anything excessive and you’re out. Keep it to boxing, not MMA.” He shrugged then went to count the badges in the box, taking down the names of everyone enrolled thus far.

Despite her irritation and distrust of Remans, Valyn was at least a polite host...or knew how to pretend to be polite. She offered the pair a wave. Didn’t hurt to let people know who was real and who wasn’t. Again though, the arch hissed open, and this time another officer she knew breached the doorway.

Lieutenant zh’Wann had more than earned Valyn’s trust and respect. They’d served together on the mission to Azurite Station, and truly, both of them were born warriors to the core so far as Valyn was concerned. Valyn gave her a nod and a quick once over as she too dropped her badge in the box. Valyn raised her glass to the woman, and took a drink from her ale again. Before the night was over, she fully intended to have her fair share of bruises, matched with the alcohol-induced inability to feel the majority of them.

It seemed that people truly were beginning to pour in, in earnest. Another face she was unfamiliar with had entered. This one was clearly one of the Wolves. It’d been some time since Valyn had had the ability to sit behind the cockpit, so she looked forward to the chance to talk to some of the pilots. The last time she’d flown had been with the Tal Shiar, in one of the newly minted Snake-head fighters, or rather, a prototype of one.

“Anytime. I’m Valyn.” She offered her hand out. “Oh-” She noted the cigars, and a grin plastered itself across her face. “It has been way too damn long since I’ve had one of these.” She pocketed one of the cigars, and brought the other to her nostrils, running it lengthwise along her upper lip. “Hmm-” She nodded, approvingly. “Thea, can I get some clippers and a torch lighter?” She held out her hand, and like magic, they materialized. Valyn was evidently no stranger to cigars, and she clipped the first one, bringing the torch to the end of it, a small plume of smoke erupting as she made several sharp inhales on the end of it.

It tasted great, and made her mouth slightly tingly. No doubt soon enough she’d be nursing a nice little buzz from that as well as the ale. “Appreciate it!” She gave Reggie a clap on the shoulder. She took a deep draw, bringing the smoke into her mouth and upper throat, but not fully inhaling it.

Enyd, of course, was recognized immediately. “Enyd!” Valyn called over the music towards the woman, who really, she considered one of very few friends aboard the ship so far. She waved at her, but didn’t pressure her to come over, “Ready to throw some punches?” Last time they’d spoken, Valyn had offered her some fighting advice, and was excited to see if the woman had acted on it. She also intended to set up those lessons that she’d promised her. Valyn held the cigar in one hand, and motioned with both arms, covering her face. A silent way of telling the other woman to keep her guard up. She winked, and leaned against the bartop.

She turned to Arven and Reggie, but as she opened her mouth to speak, the lights dimmed. “The fuck…” She trailed off as she was overtaken with a loud voice, blaring through her ears. The smoke from the machines began to pour in, and immediately, Valyn realized someone must have made some of their own ‘additions’ to her program. Really, she didn’t care. The whole evening was based in good fun after all.

“Frank Arnold…no fuckin' way.” She froze, and grinned, head slowly shaking. “No. Fuckin’. Way.” She repeated, and she laughed, audibly and watched as the man began to parade into the bay. The officer at the box added his name to the register, and his eyes followed the man as he walked to the bar. Clearly, the hologram was impressed with the show. As was Valyn.

She didn’t bother masking her look of confusion, impression, and maybe even a little annoyance at the man. Not because of his entrance, that she was clearly happy about. It was nice to have a touch of genuine boxer panache to the evening. However, he didn’t appear to recognize her. “Showmanships a real part of boxin’.” Her accent cut through harshly as she addressed him, she didn’t yet remind him who exactly she was though.

“Fancy seein’ you again, Frank.” She threw her arms to the side, and took a small puff from the cigar. “Really, dive bar...tequila...Romulan...Enterprise? Nothin’?” She smirked at him, having some other choice things to say, but in present company, she decided against it. She feigned true upset as she spoke though, and shook her head, turning instead to take a good drink of her ale. “Can I have a refill?” She shouted over to the bartender over the music as it slowly started to return to the music the DJ had been selecting for the event.

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OOC:
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[ Lieutenant Arven Leux | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] @BipSpoon @Ellen Fitz @Auctor Lucan @Stegro88 @uytrereee @P.C. Haring


Arven sighed, remembering that he needed to actually relax. This was a party, it was fun, or it was supposed to be anyway. So Arven smiled and took a spot at the bar, giving a polite nod to her, and he went ahead and ordered a shot of whiskey, something to help keep him numbed for the fight. Or that was the idea anyway. So, for now, whiskey and conversation.

"Doctor Leux, good to meet you, but you can call me Arven." He smiled at Valyn then and extended a meaty hand to her. "I have gotta admit, a Romulan in Intelligence is fitting, so how'd you get posted to the Theurgy? I'm guessing you're another wayward soul that the ship picked up along the way? I just came on board last week from the Oneida. So, what made you organize this anyway?" He smiled, then sipping on his whiskey, watching the others slowly trickle into the holodeck. Mostly new faces to him, but all in all, it was nice to be here for some relaxation and enjoyment. He could get the crap beaten out of him later. Mostly everyone was what he expected. The Remans were an exciting touch, he'd seen the medical records saying they had Remans on board, but he didn't believe it.

And then the music changes, and Frank makes his entrance. The show that was Frank Arnold was undoubtedly amusing and a hell of a spectacle. Arven smiled and slugged back the rest of his whiskey, looking to the gruff man.

"So, Good to see you Frank. Now please tell me that you've still got the skills to back up that showboating? I can't believe they let you anywhere near this tub, me either for that case. But that's how it goes, right?" Arven smirked, then extended a meaty fist to Frank. The Trill had put on some significant muscle mass since they were both at the Academy. His face was wearing a brilliant grin, and shaking his head in disbelief.

Arven smiles politely, nodding to Enyd, having seen her at the party a few nights prior. And there was Reggie, she gets a nod to, but she offers a cigar to Valyn, and then Valyn lights in. the Doctor that just happened to be standing right there by the both of them rolls his eyes and chuckles.

"You know, I can't suggest you do that. But it's your body, right? Just don't make a habit of those." He winked politely then. While he was serious about the statement, it wasn't like he would do anything more than scold the pair. At least as good-natured as that was. With a bit of a cough, Arven points to the box and then looks over to Valyn.

"Come on. It's time to start this dance, yeah? This isn't a waltz, so it's time to start having some fun, yeah? Go on, shame up and grab me a badge, blondie!" With that, Arven cracked his knuckles and popped his neck slightly, more than ready to get the party finally started. There was a barely concealed excitement to Arven now, the man was very nearly itching with excitement as he felt the moment to throw the first blows was coming.

[ Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] @BipSpoon  @Tae  @Stegro88  @Auctor Lucan  @P.C. Haring @uytrereee

Now that she was here, in this environment where she intended to get the tar beat out of her—though yes, of course, she was going to actually try to fight and try to improve in her boxing skills in the process—Enyd felt some of her tunnel focus fall away. At least enough to spy Valyn and hear her call out to her, watching as her Romulan friend mimicked the punches Enyd would likely be throwing soon enough. Valyn looked powerful and assured, sitting there next to the newly arrived doctor, Arven, whom she’d met just a few nights before. She was dressed for the fight, exuded confidence in her skills, and Enyd thought she looked beautiful in all that. Likely, if she said something like this to the Romulan, Valyn would laugh at her and tell Enyd to have a few more drinks, but it was true. Just as Chief Mickayla exuded a certain cogent beauty, one that may leave weak men feeling almost threatened and strong men desiring pursuit, so too did Valyn.

Enyd then noticed that Reggie had also come to the holosuite, though it was likely the woman had already been there when Enyd arrived. She’d been so intent upon getting there, throwing her badge in, and waiting for the right opponent to challenge, that Enyd hadn’t really noticed anyone else, or anything else. In fact, if there had been one there at least, it would only be now that Enyd would notice a maraca playing, tutu-wearing, roller-skating hippo in the middle of the boxing ring. And now that she was picturing said mammal, Enyd was almost sad that it wasn’t there in reality.

But then it seemed the Enyd’s fleeting thought had influenced the program as the lights dimmed and fog spilled out from unseen machines. Through a series of flashing lights, and to the sound of a rumbly voiced announcer, a man Enyd had not yet met entered the holosuite. Dressed and moving as a professional boxed, Enyd found him perfect for her plans for the evening. As he approached the bar, Valyn on his heels, Enyd set aside her water and also moved to stand next to him. She waited until after Valyn sought to jar a memory from the much taller man before Enyd tapped on his elbow to draw attention to herself.

“I would like to partner with you, Mr. Arnold.” Enyd didn’t care about height and weight difference. She needed and wanted the assurance that she had to fight to get anywhere in the fight, even if it was a guaranteed loss. Though quite likely any others in the room would also beat her at boxing, especially Valyn, Enyd wanted a for sure thing and seemed to have found it in the hulking presence of Frank Arnold.

[(https://uss-theurgy.com/w/images/2/28/M_w-o2.png) Lt. JG Logan Hale, callsign "Wraith" (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Logan_Hale,_callsign_"Wraith") & (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/images/c/c2/M_gold_lt.png) Lt. RraHnam (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=RraHnam) | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @BipSpoon @Tae @Stegro88 @Auctor Lucan @P.C. Haring @Ellen Fitz @uytrereee 
[Show/Hide]The two men were visibly happy about the opportunity to interact with other people once again in an informal environment. The last few days and weeks had taken a lot out of them. The events that had led to their professional separation were still all too present. But Logan was grateful that Zeke remained a friend to him, even if he was partly responsible for the fact that his former RIO was no longer able to perform his job and had transferred to air traffic control. He missed the man in his backseat a lot and it was strange to admit, but he also kind of missed his whining. Sure, he had found a more than adequate replacement for Ezekiel in Alith, but the two men were bound by the magical bond of friendship. Logan patted the man of about the same height on the shoulder.
"Today I'm going to give you a good beating, my friend."
"Your barking is much worse than your bite, Logan." Zeke bared his teeth. "I hope you brought your sippy cup, Nomad. Cause you're gonna need it."
"I see. That was meant for me. I had assumed you were planning for your future?"
"Dream on, Hale. Dream on."
The two men, wearing the loose sportswear of the Lone Wolves Squadron, wrapped each other's hands with the boxing bandages on the way to the venue on Holodeck 5. They both made sure the fabric fit properly. There was nothing worse than having to worry about whether the bandages were holding in the middle of a fight. Of course, the two men had no desire to do that. In a boxing match, you always had to stay one hundred percent on task and on your opponent. Logan was looking forward to a punch or two. The last time he had boxed, he was still studying at the academy. So, it had been a few years and the pilot knew he was certainly out of practice, but in the end, it was like riding a bike. You don't unlearn something like that, and he was sure he would find his rhythm again after just a few moments in the ring.

As the doors of the turbolift began to close, the muscular Caitian's mind was already on this interesting-sounding event. A boxing tournament, everyone was welcome. Ranks didn't count. She was eager to see how that would unfold. She was also excited to learn what was behind boxing in the first place. She knew it was a human combat sport. A contact sport where opponents fought each other with gloved fists. The athlete would surely enjoy it. After all, she had been studying several martial arts of her homeworld for several decades, and perhaps earthly boxing resembled one of them. Perhaps it was even like Vra'shan? RraHnam was curious.

"Stop the elevator!" a masculine-sounding voice called, and the security officer instinctively pushed her hand through the narrowing door gap. The elevator doors realized they were meeting resistance and immediately opened again. The Caitian tensed. Did anyone need help? Fortunately, no. There were simply two male humans who were also still trying to board the elevator. They were wearing loose sportswear.
"Thank you." said the man with the cranial implant. The other man just nodded gratefully. "Holodeck 5, please." The computer acknowledged with the usual triad and finally started moving. RraHnam eyed it curiously until the cyborg noticed her gaze. They all had the same destination.
"Oh. Sorry, Lieutenant. We were going to the boxing match. Standing before you are the champion of the evening, Logan Hale." He extended his hand to her. "And this is Ezekiel Jackson."
"Pleased to meet you, Lieutenant."
Somewhat irritated at the confidence in the man's voice, RraHnam introduced herself as well and returned their gesture. She asked about the bandaged hands and learned that that were part of the sport. Her interest was piqued, and she began to question the two men.

After only a few moments, they arrived at the venue. Holodeck 5 was appropriately prepared and resembled an older-style hangar. The center was dominated by a large square ring with ropes stretched all around. Holographic audiences from throughout Starfleet history populated the vast space. It actually reminded the Caitian of Vra'shan. The atmosphere, the people, the crackle of anticipation. She walked lightly to the bar and ordered a synthehol-based cocktail she remembered from Academy days: "Catnip, please."

Meanwhile, Logan and Zeke immediately mingled and made their way to the ring. They both dropped their combadges into the box, signing in as participants. Logan squared his shoulders and loosened his muscles. He jumped up and down every now and then to loosen his muscles. The two boys, egging each other on, made their way to some more familiar and some not so known faces. Logan greeted them all.
"Hey Reggie! Zeke here said you couldn't hold a candle to him by a long shot. You don't want to let that get to you, do you?"
He tried to provoke Gemini and laughed in amusement because he could do the same thing to Zeke in parallel, but Zeke didn't respond to his shenanigans.
"Don't listen to him. He thinks he actually has a chance."

[ CM3 Samala (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Samala) & PO3 Lorad (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Lorad) | Holodeck 03 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] 
[Show/Hide] 
"What is MMA?” Samala asked, completely clueless as to the term. The holographic figure, thankfully emotionless, proceeded to explain the rules of the event in concise terms that the two siblings could understand. Something that both appreciated. “Right, so no teeth, claws or feet. No grappling either. Just plan old-fashioned thumping at each other. What’s not to like about that?”

“Are you going to be able to contain yourself sister?” Lorad asked knowingly, concerned that his sister would get carried away as she had done in the past. Even their own sparring sessions had become derailed in the past due to his sister’s turbulent emotional control. “I hope you do not make me regret not being there.”

“I would have just come without telling you Brother, and you know it,” Samala retorted with a toothy grin. “But yes, I think I can control myself. Only a Romulan, or maybe that Klingon if she is around, would be a serious threat to me.”

“Remember the rules for this ‘boxing’,” Lorad chastised. “With the limitations involved, we both lose many of our physical advantages. Yes, we are still stronger, and to a degree, more resilient, but not so much as before and your opponent will be able to defend against you more easily.”

“You worry too much, brother,” Samala declared as she turned away to watch the next bout in the ring.

“Or not enough.”

[ Lieutenant Frank Arnold & Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Ellen Fitz @all


Standing next to Valyn, staring up, up, up at this stranger called Arnold, Enyd realized how ridiculous this might look and how quickly this man might decline due to her size, or worse yet, Valyn might step in and try to dissuade out of a desire to protect Enyd. Shaking her head against either argument, Enyd clenched her teeth against the desire to back down and cower back next to the bar.

Frank looked over Valyn then, and clearly had to think for a moment. For him their random evening had been before a long and eventful trip to Scotland, and of course while he remembered her figure, his penchant for details hadn’t been as sharp. It wasn’t her prompting that got him, not the words she chose anyway, it was the classic southern drawl that jogged his memory. For a Romulan to speak like Dolly Parton, that was a once in a lifetime find.

Immediately he broke into a wide and vibrant smile, “Tequila Jane!” He gave a chuckle and threw his bearlike arms around her for a hug, whether she allowed it or not, and would even pick her up off the ground a little before setting her down. “We did have some fun! I uh, don’t have the bike anymore though, had to leave it behind when I joined this motley outfit.” He chuckled softly, and rubbed the back of his head with his glove awkwardly, “So uh, you’re obviously not on the Enterprise anymore.” Enyd however cut short any more questions he might have for an old ship in the night.

Enyd raised a single eye brow at the Valyn’s nickname and for the first time this evening felt something akin mirth touch on her nerves. She recalled their first evening together, how they’d both gotten more than a little tipsy, and proceeded to “raid the pantry,” so to speak. The boxer’s nickname fit, all things considered.

Clearing her throat Enyd opened her mouth to speak but then Arnold turned his attention to others he knew nearby, others that Enyd only barely knew. She clenched her teeth again, her fists as well, battling the desire to interrupt the discourse with her own desire for violence. Violence won out.

“Enyd Isolde Madsen, by the by.” Enyd extended her hand toward Arnold in the traditional Earth greeting. “Please, be my boxing partner.”

Frank chuckled as he saw the hand, and would bump it with his gloves. Tying these things on early had been silly, but it was necessary for his entrance, after all, the biggest boxers all came in at the eleventh hour, in a big way. He turned and looked at Arven then, and realized he was among a smatter of old...not exactly friends but people from his life. “Believe it or not, they let me run part of this bucket.” He gave a wide smile and bumped his fist as well, and offered lightly, “You can’t have forgotten that in the Academy, this is what I did.” He gave a slow grin, “Among other...more debaucherous pursuits.” He grinned, “Almost got that belt anyway.” He would motion up and down, “You’re less scrawny these days.”

Enyd felt a smattering of embarrassment when her potential partner bumped her hand with his boxing gloves. She’d been in such a sure fire hurry to secure him as a partner she’d completely overlooked his otherwise engaged hands. Squaring her shoulders and tipping her head up and to the side, Enyd maintained her composure and determination.

“Based on your entrance, Mister Arnold, you are perhaps one of the most knowledgable opponents I could choose from who will remain objective in training due to our lack of prior acquaintance.” She threw an almost apologetic glance at Valyn.

He shook his head as if he was suddenly woken up and realized he hadn’t responded to what Enyd had said. He almost thought he’d misheard as he offered, “You want to...fight me?” He looked her up and down, and then offered, “I mean I’m no chauvinist, I’ll happily go in there with you, but…” He motioned to her desperately with both hands as if to say, ‘but I’m half a foot taller and twice as heavy as you’. Instead what came out of him was, “...I did do this somewhat competitively, against some really good boxers, admittedly a long time ago.”

As Arnold explained his background in an almost stuttering fashion, Enyd smiled an almost predatory smile. Arnold probably would not understand that his confession to superiority was further proof that he was exactly what she needed right now. If anyone could push her past her physical limits and exhaust her to a point of mental and emotional emptiness, it would be someone taller and twice the weight and with professional experience in boxing. He was perfect.

“I believe you, Mister Arnold, and know that I am neither a competitive boxer, nor am I a good one. All my prior fighting experience has been martial arts and blades fighting,” her eyes moved toward Valyn then and once more a glimmer of genuine warmth came through the uptight mess she felt to be, “and of course, standard Starfleet self-defense grabbling and throws. I know for tonight’s event none of that is allowed as this is not MMA. I have basic understanding of boxing, and would appreciate learning from your experience in the ring by way of a bout with you.”

He gave a polite shrug, and then offered, “If you insist, I will.” There was no way he was going to go into the ring and clobber her, but he’d give her the bout she was looking for, in one way or another.

“I appreciate that, Mister Arnold. Before we get in the ring, would you mind giving me some pointers? I am right-handed, so I feel more comfortable standing like this.” She held up her hands in what she knew was a technically correct upright stance but knew all likelihood Arnold would correct her, “but I also feel like I could work with this the left side too.” She switched sides and again brought up her hands to guard her face, keeping her feet firmly planted on the floor. “When I play racquet games, I am a better player with my left hand.” Enyd looked back up to Arnold and waited, curiosity and hope winning out over the latent pain for the first time that night.

Frank gave a polite nod, and would offer to Valyn and Reggie, and the others that had gathered close, “Excuse us.” With that he led Enyd off to the side. Once they were away, he would square off with her and offered, “Okay, well I’m left handed, so. But you'll be working with both hands, lead jabs with your off hands, save your dominant for power.” He nodded, and adjusted her ever so slightly, “You always want to keep your hands up, cover your face, elbows low to deflect to the body.” He waited, and then stood next to her shoulder to shoulder, “You’re small, so you’re going to be fighting opponents with much longer reach than you. So you need to get inside their reach, keep your stance low.” He’d get onto his tippy toes and then start bouncing, foot to foot, surprisingly light on his feet, “Stay nimble, stay mobile, never stop moving your feet, and remember, you’re little, move inside their reach, throw a couple quick jabs, and dance out of range. Do this enough, your opponent will get tired, and then you can wallop them when their guard drops. Overcommit, you’ll get flattened. You're too small to be rooted to the canvas.”

He’d demonstrate, keeping his head low as he slid forward, the well practiced form making him almost glide across the floor, he threw a combination of three jabs, each punctuated with a tight hiss of air from between his teeth as he threw them, and then danced back. “Always watch that south hand, that’s usually where the power comes from. Eyes up, cover your face, and stay off the ropes, you’re going to have to move to stay alive.”

[Reggie Suder | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy ] attn:  @BipSpoon  @Ellen Fitz  @Stegro88  @Tae  @uytrereee  @Nero

The night had barely started and already was proving both interesting and entertaining.    Valyn was more than happy to accept the Cigars she offered and had immediately lit one up.

“May I,” she asked.  Valyn acquiesced, handing the Betazoid the cutters and the lighter.  “Reggie Suder.  Nice to Meet you.” she said by way of introduction as she took the first drag and handed the tools back to the hostess of the night.  It had been a long while since she had lit anything up and over time she had forgotten the nuances of the practice and she was forced to give a small cough or two in response.

Then Enyd Madsen arrived on deck.  Of all the people Reggie had expected to see tonight, Enyd was possibly the last person she would have bet on.  She had only met the woman a few nights ago at the concert, but in those scant few hours Enyd had struck her as much more of the ‘lover’ as opposed to the ‘fighter’.  Yet the woman had a look about her, one that told Reggie she meant business and was here for a purpose.  Yet, Reggie sensed something else from the human.  Anxiety.  Fear.  Self Doubt.

The dimming lights distracted her from her study of the Diplomacy officer and she watched in as much joy and amusement as Frank Arnold made one hell of an entrance.  The new Chief Engineer seemed quite in his element and between this moment and their deconamination session a few days ago, Reggie was growing to like the man more and more.

“Frank,” she said when he arrived.  “Never let it be said you don’t know how to make an entrance.  Good to see you again, and… under much better circumstances.”  She took another drag of her cigar, taking care not to blow the smoke in anyone’s face.  “Um…sorry about that incident in Decon.  I’m sure we can both come up with much better ways to hang out.  I look forward to seeing you in action.”

And then the strangest thing thus far happened.  Enyd approached Frank and challenged him to a fight.  The only way Reggie could have been more surprised would have been if Enyd had challenged one of the Remans.  The woman was more than a little insistent and for as much as Reggie wanted to step in and suggest to Enyd that fighting Frank might not be the best of ideas, she knew two things - first that Frank was a good man and wouldn’t intentionally harm her, even in a fight and, second, that for whatever reason Enyd needed to do this.

Then Logan Hale and his former RIO Zeke showed up. 

“Hey Reggie! Zeke here said you couldn't hold a candle to him by a long shot. You don't want to let that get to you, do you?”

Things had been a little tense between her and Logan since she’d been named flight leader over him and while things seemed a bit better since their training flight, she wondered if this ribbing was more than just some friendly bantering.

“Don't listen to him. He thinks he actually has a chance.”

Reggie chuckled at that.  “Well on this ship anything is possible,” she said, the thoughts of her unexpected reunion with T’Less coming foremost to her mind.    “So yeah, I’d say he has a chance.  About as much of a chance as I have of winning a head-butting contest with a Klingon.”

She took another sip of her drink followed by a drag on her cigar.  Truth was either of them probably had a sure fire win against her.  Sure she was combat trained, but her expertise was in martial arts and in swords, not in boxing.  Still, a small part of her almost wanted to get into the ring with one of them.

“All my prior fighting experience has been martial arts and blades fighting.”

Reggie noticed that while she and Hale and Zeke had been chattering, Frank and Enyd had moved off.  Did Enyd just say she had similar fight training as Reggie?  Interesting… 

[Lt (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark) | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy]

@P.C. Haring @Tae @BipSpoon @Ellen Fitz @uytrereee @Stegro88

Lt. Zark stepped through the holodeck arch with two things in mind.  First off, someone was bound to get hurt and if the intensity of the action was any indication of how things usually went, it was likely even friendly matches had a good chance to  draw blood.  Next, she's been seeing far more hand to hand than she'd really expected, so it paid to keep in practice.  The air of the holodeck quickly brought her back to a temperature that she was more comfortable with as the ship was usually quite warm for her.  Eschewing the usual athletic wear she'd found on ship, she arrived in a black tank top and shorts, boxing shoes and MMA striking gloves.  Much more different was the med kit she carried on her shoulder.  She'd loaded up on what was needed to deal with cuts, bruises, broken bones, and maybe more importantly for the night's entertainment, smelling salts to rejuvenate those that wanted to keep going even though they normally could not.

Lt. Zark's eyes swept the crowd, it definitely seemed like good crew for friendly fight.  Her eyes suddenly snapped back and almost bugged out when a familiar brunette caught her attention.  Lt. Frank Arnold was giving her tips, but the hair and facial profile were very distinctive.  Oh Shelat! I never thought Madsen would be one for the fisticuffs..  The Andorian's eyes narrowed in speculation from the way that Lt. Arnold was interacting with her.  Tilting her head to one side, she began to wonder if the diplomat had deliberately chosen the much larger engineer as her opponent.  Motivations and possibilities cycled through her head as she made her way towards the tables and the ring.  Shaking her head in wry disbelief, Zark continued looking around till she found the person she was looking for. Spying a box, she detoured and peered in to confirm her suspicions.  Smirking, Zark pulled off her combadge and tossed in into the box to hear a satisfying plunk of metal on metal. I think my services are going to be needed soon.

Continuing on towards where Valyn Amarik was standing, another familiar sight caught her attention and a smile creased her lips.  Spying the muscular form of Dr. Arven Leux  "Well, well, Doctor, fancy finding you here, especially so soon after  Breshanti."   Looking around him, but only seeing the Doctor ready to issue a pummelling and nothing else.  Her smirk grew into a smile.  "I take it your not here as the fight doctor?  Care to go a few rounds?"

[(https://uss-theurgy.com/w/images/2/28/M_w-o2.png) Lt. JG Logan Hale, callsign "Wraith" (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Logan_Hale,_callsign_"Wraith") | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @BipSpoon @Tae @Stegro88 @Auctor Lucan @P.C. Haring @Ellen Fitz @uytrereee 
[Show/Hide]Logan laughed at Reggie's comment and imagined the Betazoid headbutting a full-grown Klingon and then, as one would expect, staggering back in a daze. The whole thing was probably roughly comparable to insects hitting the windshield of a fast ground vehicle and bursting there. It was not a pleasant feeling and the pilot remembered what it was like when he had tried it himself once. It had been a female Klingon, but that was all he needed. Logan had a headache for days afterwards. In his ears, he could still hear the laughter of the Klingon woman who was happy at the time that someone was finally giving her something like a halfway decent fight. He wondered what his chances were today, now that his cranial structure had been updated, and he wondered what had become of her. Maybe he should take a chance and look for her while he was so close to Qo'noS?

"Been there, done that." the pilot then said, amused, and continued to tease. "Had been surprisingly easy. So, my chances shouldn't be too bad."
Logan was looking forward to just enjoying the evening. He and his best friend were having fun. It felt good to unwind after all the stress. The mood of the two men was boisterous and relaxed. The pilot grabbed a beer from the tray of one of the waiters and another for his best friend. He briefly asked around if anybody else wanted something to drink as well and passed a drink to everyone who agreed as well.

"That's the first round, Zeke. You give the next one."
"You're very welcome," the other human said with a broad smile on his features.
"How about you, Reggie?" asked Logan then turning to the other pilot. "Are you still fighting tonight or are you giving yourself..." he winked at her teasingly. "...content with the sight of sweaty male bodies."

"Well, I'm perfectly content with the latter." declared Ezekiel Jackson, his smile now rather insinuating. His former RIO's gaze roamed the hall, lingering on many toned bodies. Logan didn't need to be telepathic to know what was going on in his friend's head. He winked at him and laughed. The pilot then shook his head and turned back to Reggie.

"So?"

[ Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @uytrereee @Nero @RyeTanker @Tae @P.C. Haring @Stegro88 @BipSpoon

Much of the pointers Arnold gave were not much different from the Chief back when they’d trained with the blades on her first morning onboard the ship, nor were they much different from many of her coaches in the various martial art forms she’d tried her hand at in previous years. Staying grounded but fluid, solid yet supple, quick to move and adapt, these were common features in all fighting forms. Especially for someone of her stature, Enyd knew well enough that movement meant survival, and standing still equaled death, or at least severe pummeling. It had only been because she was standing still that she'd been thrown across the Great Hall. And it was because she'd been lying still, knocked silly by the explosion, that she'd been kidnapped. Watching and then mirroring to her best ability the moves Arnold demonstrated, Enyd kept her mind focused on this moment in time instead of allowing it to wander into the dangerous territory of ghosts and terrors that lurked in the shadows of her mind.

They continued to practice a bit more before Enyd gave a firm nod, feeling that the practice time was over and now was the time for action. There was such a thing as too much practice and while she was no expert, Enyd knew that if they didn't get into the ring soon she'd work herself into a further mass of nerves.

Pointing to the ring, Enyd tipped her head up to stare at Arnold, “Shall we dance, Mister Arnold?”

She did not feel the nervousness or fear a sane person in her position would feel as they walked towards the ring. No, instead she felt an almost giddy sense of FINALLY coursing through her veins, preparing her for the ass kicking she felt she needed.

[ CM3 Samala (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Samala) & PO3 Lorad (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Lorad) | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @uytrereee @Nero @RyeTanker @Tae @BipSpoon @P.C. Haring @Ellen Fitz
[Show/Hide] 
"I thought you said this was meant to fair combat brother?” Samala queried as she saw the small woman climbing into the ring with the bearded man. Despite them both being Terran, as far as she could tell anyway, it did not seem to be a particularly even bout. He was not only significantly taller, which would give him a greater reach, but also appeared to be about half again as heavy as the woman. As far as Samala could see, the woman had no advantages to speak of.

“Not all bouts are meant to bring about victory or defeat sister,” Lorad remarked casually as he sized up both combatants. “Some only fight to prove something to themselves. They are there to learn, not to put on a show for you or others.”

“I hope she knows when to call it quits,” a voice from behind them spoke and Samala turned back to see Mickayla MacGregor, Lorad’s Klingon superior from the ship’s Security Department, standing there, her arms crossed. “I don’t feel like visiting sickbay tonight.”

“I do not think they mean to hurt each other,” Lorad observed.

“Accidents happen even with the best of intentions,” Mickayla countered. Lorad could not refute that argument and was turned back to watch, missing the calculating look his sister was giving the Klingon woman.

[Ens. Talia Al-Ibrahim | Personal Quarters | Deck 13 |Vector 03 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @uytrereee @Nero @RyeTanker @Tae @BipSpoon @P.C. Haring @Ellen Fitz

[1630 hrs]

Under a stream of steaming water she stood with her arms extended, palms flat against the bulkhead, resting her weight on one leg as the other gently rubbed against her calf. Her head was lowered, offering the base of her skull and neck to the water; the heat maxed out, barely within human tolerance. Slicked hair draped over her collarbones, sticking to the skin as the water cascaded across her breasts in a river down her abdomen. Dark eyes closed as she leaned into the water and the steam enveloped the shower; every deep breath through her nostrils laced with lavender.

The past few days had been so chaotic. Ever since she woke upon this vessel, nothing had gone the way she expected. Life had been routine, before; on the Diamondback, one day had seemed to loop for months at a time until some random mission; an event which would only last mere hours in a brief period of chaos. Order would always return, she remembered.

But here? Everything is in flux – every second, every day, is an unknown. What will I do? How can I adapt to this?

There were no answers, so her mind blanked as it relaxed—briefly following the body’s lead. Inevitably, her thoughts drifted back to her current obsession; the AC-409. The past days spent cramming her brain with every technical manual, combat doctrine, even archived helm footage from previous battles; she had spent every second available to her absorbing it all. I still have so far to go.

All of it had taken its toll. Even the usual distractions seemed inadequate; the gym, her meal planning, even the curiosity that drove her to investigate Norse mythology – thanks to a recent acquaintance. Her mind wandered to a certain Doctor she’d met; wonder what she’s doing tonight? In her mind, an image of Nara waved into focus; she dismissed it with a subtle shake of her head just as fast. Too many unknowns. As much as she had enjoyed their time in the gym, it seemed that they were in a holding pattern for the time being. Talia inhaled sharply, pushing the matter from her tired mind as she ran her hands up over her face and into her hair. She felt exhausted, mentally, yet her body was far from it.

The gym was calling: where she could stress her body to failure, and sleep. Yet she needed something more. Her mind drifted to the hidden object in her sock drawer, and she debated using it—for a few heartbeats. Not in the mood, she grumbled to herself; it wasn’t worth the effort for a few seconds of oblivion. If I even managed to get there, she added as she sucked her teeth. Today is shoulders and abs, anyway, she rotated her neck under the water, humming with the sensation. Or I could just stay here until my skin blisters.

When the moment passed, Talia settled for the gym.


[25 Minutes Later]


Talia walked down the corridor towards the lift at her usual brisk pace, tapping her daily macros into her PADD. She’d dressed in one of her favorite gym outfits: grey sweats, white training bra, covered with a white hoodie she’d picked up back at the Academy, with her standard sneakers and low-rise socks. 

After inputting her daily carb intake, she noticed a message which forced her to a halt in the middle of the abandoned corridor. A dance, she cocked her head down at the tablet in confusion. Blinking rapidly as her brain processed the information, she felt her eyebrows furrow as her lips pursed. No, that sounds dumb, she dismissed the notion, stuffing the PADD into the gym bag on her shoulder. After a few more steps, she halted again. Everyone’s been invited – it was ship wide. You could try to...you know...socialize? For once?

She shook her head and took another few steps. You don’t know anything about boxing – you’ll make a fool of yourself. That voice, the tone of it, was the part of her that constantly reminded her that nothing was ever good enough. Fuck off, she sneered at it. Who says I can’t learn? Huh? Who says I can’t try something new – for once – without you fucking ruining it?!

As the lift appeared, Talia slowed to a stop again and ran a hand through her damp hair. The internal debate continued: This is stupid; just go to the gym, wear yourself out, and go to sleep. Then the nasty side piped up: Yeah, at least there you can’t show everyone how shit-scared you are of embarrassment. Shadow’s got a mean shadow, eh?

“Fuck you,” she hissed to the air, then quickly glanced to see if anyone was within ear-shot. Seeing no one, Talia vented a drawn out sigh as she hung her head. “Why are you like this,” she whispered. It wasn’t like she had to fight, or even stay there – she could go, check it out, and if it didn’t jive then the gym would still be there.

To hell with it, I’m going, she told herself. Thirty minutes – if something happens, great, if not, I’ll go to the fucking gym like always.

Suitably irritated with herself, she boarded the lift.


[5 minutes later | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03]


The first thing Talia noticed – beyond the décor, which was oddly nostalgic – was the amount of people. Some where obvious holograms, dressed in all eras of Starfleet history, but there were quite a few obvious members of the crew too. And I don’t know any of them.

She managed to get a few paces inside and froze, taking in the scenery: the program was extensively detailed, dominated by the central ring and the rows of folding chairs surrounding it. Off to the side seemed to be a bar with a sizable group of people idling near it. It was a motley group of various races; Andorian, Human, Romulan, even what appeared to be a Remen, standing close to a Klingon. Her eyes narrowed at it all in disbelief.

“You gonna come in, or just stand there looking agitated,” an aging, thickset man dressed in a 23rd century Starfleet uniform had apparently asked her; he stood with his arms folded, a few steps to her right. His grey hair was trimmed neatly, matching his slightly bushy eyebrows. Warm brown eyes twinkled there, despite his outward look of irritation.

Caught off guard, Talia glanced about quickly, still unsure the man had been asking her.

“Yes, you, Ms. Dusky-hued,” the man looked her up and down, “I don’t know,” he flapped his arms, but smiled warmly. “C’mon in, it’ll be fun,” he beckoned her with a flip of one hand as he half-turned to the ring.

Talia frowned as she cocked her head, realizing who this man might be, or at least, who he was programmed to be. “I’m...not sure how this works,” she muttered, narrowing her eyes at him as she studied his face. No way it’s him.

“It’s pretty simple, really,” he grinned at her. “If you wanna fight, head down there, put your thing in the thing, wait your turn. If you don’t,” he paused to shrug at her, “have a seat, enjoy the show,” he gestured to the many dozens of folding chairs. Then he turned to her and folded his arms again as his face grew quite serious. “Unless you’re one of those officers that can’t take your uniform off at the door,” he tutted then as he wagged a finger at her. “All work and no play, as Bones used to say,” his smile returned as his arms fell. “Enjoy,” he whispered, eyebrows bouncing up with his enthusiasm.

“Wait – wait,” Talia stopped him as he turned to leave. “Are you...are you James Kirk,” she whispered; “James T. Kirk?”

The man stared at her for several long seconds. “Of course not,” he shook his head with a look of bewilderment. “I’m just a hologram.”

Talia sighed as “Kirk” wandered off – resigning herself to a quiet corner while she figured out exactly what she intended to do here. Turning a folding chair around, well in the rear, she dropped her gym bag at her side and mounted it, letting her elbows rest on the seat-back. Her dark eyes wandered the crowd, trying to gauge her chances. Everyone looks more than capable of beating you, she told herself. All you have is basic hand-to-hand from the Academy anyway, which isn’t boxing. Unsure what to do, she opted to sit and think it over. Maybe I can learn something first.

[Lt (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark) | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy]

@Ellen Fitz @uytrereee @Tae @BipSpoon @Stegro88 @Nero @P.C. Haring

Iced Jade stared passed the muscular trill in front of her to the lithe brunette diplomat and she felt worry begin to gnaw at her.  She'd gotten to know the chaos attracting diplomat a bit better after their combined holodeck encounter, and she felt uncertain about what she was seeing.  The odds were heavily in Arnold's favour as it looked like he out massed her by at least half and he had the range advantage.  If this was truly a free for all, maybe Zark could pull a few stunts to get the better of Arnold, but the Andorian had only a mostly intellectual understanding of what the brunette was capable of, not enough to engender complete faith in what amounted to a slug fest. She'd gotten out of two hairy situations this week, and the week wasn't over yet, so that spoke well of her capabilities.  This match looked more like the sort of fight a smaller opponent was supposed to avoid as her Marine instructors had taught her during her Academy days.  The combat medic's focus swayed away from the doctor as she began reading Madsen's body language, and there was something that didn't sit right.

Zark gave Arven an absent minded friendly wave and wished him good luck in his fight before grabbing a seat near the ring while making a point of putting the med kit on the table within easy reach.  The medicos fingers began tapping the tune to a more recent rendition of Highland war music on the plastic surface as her uncertainty grew.  Hopefully there was going to be a sense of restraint on both sides, otherwise, this had the potential to be part of a very bloody busy night.  The Dark Blue-green eyes floated over the crowd and she caught sight of the the tough musculature of MacGregor, an unknown Romulan woman, and another unknown possibly Romulan with a PADD.  The eyes continued back to the container where her combadge sat and she forcibly turned her head back towards the ring though an aspect of her felt the urge to fish her badge out and sit aside getting ready to treat any injuries that were likely to come along.  Unconsciously mirroring the thoughts of MacGregor from the mission to Breen. Accidents happen.

Mentally sighing, the medico blinked a few times to give her mind a mental shake. Maybe I'm being paranoid, the match hasn't even started yet.  Looking around once more, Zark saw an unknown very muscular tan woman making her way in towards the ring.  Despite the apparent powerful physique she had, there was a hesitancy to her movements that gave the air of someone who was out of her element here. She was unquestionably dangerous, but perhaps not in the environment that she'd joined for the evening. By Lor'vela, if she throws her badge in, it's gonna be a busy night for sure. the medico's mind griped.

Zark turned back to the ring and the Andorian decided she'd salve her own conscience if nothing else.  She probably was being paranoid since the diplomat had managed to get out of both situations, but then again..........  Getting up again, she made her way over to where Frank and Enyd were standing before tapping Lt. Arnold on his massive shoulder.  "Excuse me, Lieutenant Arnold, can I borrow your partner here for a quick chat? Thanks!" The Andorian didn't wait for the Chief Engineer to answer as she placed a blue hand on her friend's shoulder, spinning her around and guiding her into the crowd and out of earshot. 

When Zark felt she had a modicum of privacy, she placed both hands on her friend's shoulder.   She could have launched right into questioning, but she wanted a good look in Enyd's eyes first.  Iced jade stared into emerald searching for something, and Zark's eyes widened slightly.  "Enyd I'm not the diplomat, you are, so I'm going to be blunt and I'm asking these as a friend." A cobalt hand left the human shoulder and a raised index finger entered both their visions. "One, are you sure of who you're choosing to fight?  I'm more your size, so if you want to wail on someone, you've got a much better chance with me."  Middle finger joined Index.  "Do you know how you're going to fight him?" Thumb joined the other two fingers. "I know you have demons, but is this really the way to exorcise them?  I can patch you back for probably two or three fights, but wouldn't the counsellor be a better avenue for whatever compulsion this is that's going to take joy in the drubbing you're going to take?"

Zark felt the last point was a touchy one, but that's what friends were for, they asked the hard questions when worried.  Also, as the Andorian had pointed out, Enyd Isolde Madsen was the one trained diplomatic niceties, not XamotZark zh’Ptrell.

---

Hebrides
[Show/Hide]

[ Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] @BipSpoon  @Tae  @Stegro88  @P.C. Haring  @uytrereee  @RyeTanker @Dumedion

Enyd stiffened when she heard Zark’s voice, but allowed the Andorian female to lead her from Frank’s side. She knew what the woman was going to say and was surprised that Valyn hadn’t beaten her to the punch, pun intended. She was not so far gone up her own bum that she didn’t rationally comprehend what others saw when they watched her target Frank. And those who knew more about her, or her history, were likely, like Zark, to accurately pinpoint why she was doing this. However, Enyd was annoyed enough with her residual anxieties and symptoms to be willing to expose herself to this arse-kicking if it would work, like The Forge had in helping her purge the emotions.

She waited until Zark finished her questioning slash lecturing before Enyd offered a half-smile to her friend, reaching up with her own hands and laying them lightly on Zark’s forearms. 

“Being a diplomat does not preclude a person from doing stupid things, Zark. And Ensign L’Nari would be the first to tell you I apparently have a hankering for violence.” Enyd let go with one hand and lightly poked Zark’s abdomen, hoping it would help soothe the woman's fears. “However, that being said, I intentionally chose Frank because of his extensive experience, and while he is kicking my arse about, I will learn from him, and better yet, those demons you spoke of will realize I will not let them take over this time.” Her smile was sad but resolute when she used her hands to dislodge Zark’s hold, though she held Zark’s forearms a moment longer than necessary, giving a reassuring squeeze. “I don’t ask you to agree with the methods, Zark, but I ask that you let me continue this assumed madness as I know it has worked before.”

She turned to walk back to Frank’s side but hesitated. Enyd knew Zark cared, and that was something different from when she’d wrestled through the demons of losing Javec. She’d had no one then, at least no one close enough to touch. After a quick glance at the Andorian, Enyd smiled again, pulled the woman into a quick hug, and then, with another reassuring pat to the woman’s shoulder, marched back to Frank’s side. Even with the expression of concern from a friend being different this time around, Enyd was still determined to follow through with the dance. Her partner was probably one of the best, if not the best, in this room, and that was what she needed to pummel her demons back into their cage.

[Lt (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark) |  Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy]

@uytrereee @Ellen Fitz 

Zark was about to tell her friend she had her head so far up her posterior, it was darker than 3 feet up a well diggers ass on a moonless night.  The hug and the smile stopped helped the Andorian's own sense of restraint in blurting out anything damaging for there was nothing else to be done.  Enyd knew what she was getting into and the best she could offer at this point was support and encouragement.  Quickly moving after the brunette, Zark managed to intercept her just short of rejoining Arnold, and she made sure to stop in her way.  Holding up placating hands to forestall any argument, Zark offered a crooked smile to ease the tension.  "No, I'm not going to stop you from fighting Arnold, you're mind's made up and you have to go through this, so be it. I know what's going down when people get that look." 

Zark's eyes and smile turned feral suddenly. "I'm probably telling you something that you already know. It's going to be more satisfying when you make him earn it." A cobalt index finger lightly jabbed the diplomat on the chest to punctuate the last four words.  "Listen to what he has to say, and stay out of his range.  I'm hoping you have the speed and manoeuvrability advantage on him.  Dodge and wail on him enough and he'll get frustrated enough to give you the fight you want."  Zark stood there akimbo for a moment as her face turned thoughtful.  She tried to think up any other advice she could give, well that was lie, there was boat loads of advice she could give Enyd, but that would defeat the purpose of the fight for her friend.  Sometimes bruises also taught best.  There really was only one thing left to say, so the smile returned. "When you feel yourself being scraped off the mat, that'll be me getting ready to put you back together.  When this is over, you and I can go about expanding your hand to hand repertoire, I think the good Ensign L'Nari will probably be more upset with you after that.  Now go all out and give em both hell!" 

Giving the diplomat one last hug, the blue alien turned to face Frank Arnold and her face held a her trademark smile that held a good deal of teasing in it as her arms went akimbo. "Mister Arnold, she's expecting a fight, and we're expecting to get entertained, so you go too easy on her an you and I are gonna go round and round in this here ring.  Since I don't think you've been put in my tender mercies yet, trust me when I say I'm a fine medico and I'll happily put you back together afterwards."

[ Lieutenant Arven Leux & Valyn Amarik | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] @BipSpoon @Ellen Fitz @Auctor Lucan @Stegro88 @uytrereee @P.C. Haring


Arven shook his head at the pomp and joviality that was the party that Fight night had become.  Arven looked over to zark, and just shakes his head, winking to the Andorian woman. “You and I will have to go a few rounds some time Zark maybe after drinks.” Maybe the thoughts were still there after the recent Niga exposure, maybe they weren’t. But he certainly liked Zark’s attitude and style.

The comments form Frank made him smile though and while walking over to the box to pull out a badge Arven lifts an arm and flexes it to show off to Frank. The Trill had put on some serious mass since his Academy years, and he winks to the barrel chested champion boxer. Arven doesn’t say anything to him though aside from showing off the large and well sculpted bicep before reaching down to the box and he shakes it up to randomize the distribution.

With an air of gravity arven lifts a hand for silence, and the holograms fall silent, looking towards the muscular Trill. He shakes the box again, the sound of the badges clattering against one another, followed by the sharp THWACK of the box hitting the table once more. And with great gravitas Arven reaches down to pull out a badge. He reads it, and bursts out laughing, shaking his head.

“Since I can’t fight myself very well, I have to choose again!” He grins, and holding his own badge in one hand reaches for another. A meaty fist clamping down over the small object, that couldn’t be his own badge. Looking at it only briefly he holds the badge up as if anyone else could see the name on the back. His strong voice rang out in the silenced holodeck.

“Valyn Amarik!”

Valyn rose a brow at him and let out a chortle, sizing him up with an obvious glance before she knocked back the remainder of her drink. She set the glass down with a loud, rolling rattle before she motioned to one of the nearby holograms. “Wrap me up.” She held her hands out before her, presenting her weapons of the evening. However, it was actually one of Franks holograms that stepped forward to do the deed, and it was done with exact practiced precision.

“Your funeral.” She shouted at the Trill with an amused grin. Fighting was in her very nature. She’d been in trouble for fighting with the Tal Shiar. She’d been in trouble for fighting at Starfleet Academy. She’d always gotten away with it, but she’d shaped up since moving into Starfleet. Well…mostly shaped up. She loved a good fight. No, she didn’t just love it. She lived for a good fight.

She handed off the cigar to another hologram, “So help me, that best be here when I get back.” Without further hesitation, she started climbing into the ring, removing her tank top and leaving her in a sports bra instead. In the ring, holographic staff already waited with her gloves. They were slipped onto her hands easily enough, and slowly…she began to circle. Like a bird of prey surrounding its kill, she circled the ring over and over, eyes locked on Arven wherever he happened to be.

Arven was ready to go as soon as he’d called the name, his fists wrapped loosely with bandages and some thin gauze padding to dull the blows at least a little. While little of this fight would be all fun and enjoyable, Arven had a lot of frustration to blow off. After his mission to Breshanti he didn’t get off there was too much guilt associated with how that mission had gone. So he needed to get the shit beat out of him. With how Valyn looked at him, the cold circling around, calm composed. This was just what he needed.

Where Valyn was slim comparatively, Arven had the body of a weightlifter, powerful arms, shoulders and chest. He was a man carved out of muscle. And while he needed better coping mechanisms, this would do for tonight. His violet eyes flit over the blonde, watching for any opening as they circle a spot on the mat. Thinking he saw an opening Arven sends a meaty fist towards Valyn’s stomach, the blow fast and powerful. Not holding back against the Romulan.

Her slim build was no detriment to her skill. Her eyes bounced over his body, searching for the slightest movement in his muscles. Her vulcanoid strength, and repeated training gave her enough of an edge. Nostrils flaring, she saw the arm move before the fist approached too closely. Her feet moved in a single, fluid motion, stepping to the side. Her left hand swing forward to force his arm down, and her right arm pulled back as she turned out of her evasion, and swung for his right cheek.

She hadn’t given the blow everything she had by any means. The blood of Romulans, and their Vulcan cousins granted them an innate weapon in comparison to many other humanoids across the galaxy. However, while the blow wasn’t given her full strength, it was certainly given more than a punch from a human would hold, and it was fully her intention to rattle her opponent. Sidestepping, she moved away, creating a small bit of distance as she watched his footwork.

Arven didn’t have any real training in this, and it had been too long since the academy. The large man was more than a bit of a bruiser for his build. But he was a bruiser that got his feet tangled up easily. And here and now, that would hurt him far more than anything else. The Trill was barely able to block, the blows he’s able to defend against happened more out of luck than skill.

For being a Doctor Arven was a bit of a brute, and hadn’t managed to catch the subtlety and skill that Valyn was so well trained in. while arven swung wildly and powerfully hoping to get Valyn’s guard down, and he took what he thought was an opening only to wind up with Valyn’s fist lodged squarely in the orbit of his right eye. The subtle sound of a crunch as the doctor’s cheek bone shatters with the blow having caught the angle just wrong enough that it would end badly for him.

With Valyn now likely having Arven’s number and lack of finesse down, it was quite likely that she’d have him out cold in a matter of moments. Any of the more experienced onlookers more than able to tell that for all his strength and build Arven wouldn’t last much longer.

Valyn heard the crunch and internally winced. She really didn’t want to do any serious damage, and the shattered cheekbone counted as that in her book. “Keep your damn hands up.” She warned him, holding up her own in a strong guard as she circled him, a bird of prey around its mark. After another moment though, she let out a deep breath and swung her left fist forward, crossing over to the right to afford him another blow, this time to the opposite side of his face, and not with quite as much strength. Still, it was likely enough.

When the blow met his face, she stepped forward, making an attempt to catch him should he fall.

Arven would have been thankful for Valyn’s prudence if he had remained conscious. For as strong as he was, the powerfully built Trill had stepped into Valyn’s punch taking it square in the eye, her fist colliding powerfully with the orbit of his eye. And that was the knockout blow. The sharp flash of pain burning along his nerves and overloading what little of his reserves of strength he had left.

Arven’s muscular bulk did indeed collapse and he was caught firmly by Valyn, it was a slow and heavy fall, if Valyn hadn’t been quite so strong he’d probably have taken her down like with him, buta s it was the Romulan could more than manage him since She’d prepared. A slow breath escapes from Arven’s lips, he was still alive, but he’d be out for a while.


The first fight was over, and the second pair could step into the ring.


OOC: Apologies on how long that took.

[Lt (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark) | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy]

Attn: @BipSpoon @Tae @uytrereee @Ellen Fitz @P.C. Haring @Auctor Lucan @Stegro88 @Dumedion 

Whatever response Frank Arnold gave was lost as she saw Dr. Arven Luex grandstanding on who he was going to trade fisticuffs.  The Andorian medico wasn't really sure what to expect.  Both participants were eager for the fight.  The only question was how was this likely going to end?  She dipped into her memory on Valyn Amarik, and then bought up what details she could recall on Arven Leux, and blanched. Uh Oh, I don't think this going to end well.  Her professional persona took over as she moved towards her med kit while watching both combatants, and it was clear that Amarik was if not stronger, then far more skilled than the doctor.  Reaching the table, Lt. Zark folded her arms under her chest and began tapping impatiently as the fight essentially went downhill for the Doctor from the get go. As her antennae pointed more towards the Trill, she winced as she mentally heard the first crunch to his face.  From long experience, she knew that it was going to bruise very badly or possibly be broken.

If she was his coach, she would have considered throwing in the towel a while ago, but that wasn't how the fight worked, so she waited, mentally cursing the entire way.  For her, this wasn't a fight, it was a massacre, one the Trill had entered willingly and as with her friend Enyd would, so she remained quiet and fuming.  To give her credit, the Romulan was showing some restraint, and trying to get the Doctor to defend himself, but the Trill was far too punch drunk for anything.  Zark physically winced when she heard the last crunch and had grabbed her med kit as Amarik moved to catch the knocked out Trill. 

Taking a running dive onto the ring, Zark scampered to where the Romulan was supporting the unconscious doctor on the mat.  Her face was one of stone as she grabbed the tricorder from the kit and began a physical examination.  Tenderly pressing the now swelling cheek, she tsked, then grabbed a pen light and opened an eye lid.  The medico let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.  Turning to the Romulan, she confirmed her suspicions "He'll be fine, but will have a massive headache in the morning." Grabbing the tricorder, she catalogued the list of injuries and thought it could have been much worse.  Sighing, and in a sense relieved, Zark moved towards the Trill's legs and proceeded to grab them.  "Grab his arms and help me move the stupid son of a bitch off the mat." As Amarik grabbed the Trill under his arms, Zark sighed and led the two towards the edge of the ring. "Thea, gurney, closest edge of ring." A standard emergency gurney appeared as Zark and Amarik carefully manoeuvred the muscular bulk of the Trill passed the ropes.  "Easy, don't lose control of his neck." Zark cautioned as they gently moved the body onto the bed.  With the semi naked doctor on the bed, Zark moved around the back the bed and began pushing it away from the ring.  "Don't worry! He'll be fine!" Zark shouted to everyone as she carted him off.

Stopping far enough away, Lt. Zark engaged the bed's motion locks, "Thea, setup a privacy screen around this bed. " the medico ordered as she grabbed a vial of Melorazine from the medkit and injected Arven with 10ccs before grabbing a dermal regenerator and began repairing the shattered cheek.  "Doc, you are lucky they built the Osteo-regenerator into these things." the Andorian grumbled as she gently guided the device of the mass of broken bone.  The swelling noticeably reduced over time and she consulted her tricorder for other repairs she deemed necessary to make.  Fortunately, most of the rest was run of the mill trauma and she applied the dermal regenerator to those areas as well.   Though the cheek was now intact, the eye was a mess, and the medico debated not repairing it to let it heal on it's own as a reminder of what the recipient had gone through.  As suddenly as the thought arrived, Lt. Zark shook the notion out of her head and applied a cortical stimulator above the eye to let the healing begin.  Deciding there was nothing else to do, the Andorian searched for several more vials, before inserting them into her hypospray and rotating them smoothly through long practice as she injected the prone Trill with a small amounts of Masiform-D, Hydrocortilene, and Terakine.  She figured he'd rouse gently and hopefully in not too much pain.  While she waited for the doctor to wake up for an update, she turned and pushed aside the opening in the screen to see who was next and a frown fixed to her face seeing Frank Arnold fighting Enyd Madsen in the ring.

[ Lieutenant Frank Arnold | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Ellen Fitz @RyeTanker @BipSpoon 
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Frank worked off to the side with Enyd. Unfortunately he'd eventually had to relent and have his Ali era gloves cut off, so he could get the warm up pads. By now the evening was hopping, people were filtering in one by one until this party really became a party. Dance was an appropriate name for it by Frank's approximation, and Valyn had gotten a really nice turnout. Frank was impressed. At Madsen's question, he gave a slow nod, "Yeah I think we're getting close to time. Just remember, take it easy on me." He winked at her, and was about to make another remark when they were approached by an Andorian. In a moment's time she was stealing a stiffened Enyd, and he was standing alone. He figured now was as good a time as ever to get the warmup pads, so she could throw a few punches. Selfishly, it would also let him gauge her speed.

As he came back with the warmup pads for Enyd to strike a few times, she'd been whisked away by an Andorian. Fortunately, the first fight was going now, and he watched the ever dangerous Valyn, and the entertaining Arven start to trade blows. The doctor reminded him of many opponent's he'd crossed gloves with during his real heyday. Big, and strong, but they also knew this, and were too slow to catch someone like Valyn. And with a few minutes it showed as she rung his bell with a nasty strike to the face. He heard the telltale crunch, and at first figured the man had a broken nose. But Frank couldn't see the telltale splatter, and when the man hit the mat, he was out of sight behind a crowd of heads for any further assessment.

He shrugged and went back to shadowboxing, staying warm. Eventually Zark returned with his partner, and he offered a polite nod, "My thanks for returning her. I was worried that I was going to have to play with myself for far too long." He chuckled, and then realized that this woman wanted words with him too. He didn't break warming up to speak to her, but he did listen then. He rolled his shoulders then and offered, "Maybe you're not familiar enough with my history to know that going round for round with you in this, boxing, isn't the scariest prospect in the world for me." He shrugged, "Maybe you're confident enough in your skill that you think a simple engineer will be pushed over by a hard word from someone he hardly knows." He shrugged again, and then broke his warmup to start pulling his gloves on, "But hey, I'm going to do what I'm going to do, you're going to do what you're going to do." He smiled a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes as he eventually looked up to meet Zark's gaze.

"I'm just a middle aged, former belt contender who never quite reached his potential. I guess you have to ask yourself if you want to be on the wrong side of me when I do." He offered Zark a wink, and then looked to Enyd, "I think it's about time we had a waltz my dear. Why don't you have your friend here lace your gloves."

[Ens. Talia Al-Ibrahim | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @Tae @P.C. Haring @Auctor Lucan @BipSpoon @Stegro88 @RyeTanker @Ellen Fitz @uytrereee @Nero

Her eyes never stopped moving as she sat, resting her chin on the folded forearms atop the back of the reversed folding chair. To her surprise, she actually recognized the face of at least one person in the room – the brunette figure of the legendary LT Suder off by the bar, cigar in hand – which gave her pause for a few moments. Suder was quite possibly one of the most experienced combat pilots in the entire Astronautical Command; her exploits during the Dominion War were well documented – Talia had reviewed them multiple times at Omega. She’d even been an instructor there, before Talia’s time.

I’ll introduce myself after all this, she nodded to herself. No sense ruining her night with hero worship and shop talk.

Her eyes wandered again, to the blonde Romulan next to Suder. There was something about that one that spoke of imminent danger, or aggression boiling under the surface. Something about the way she carried herself, even here, seemingly at ease. She looks like she’s seen too many secrets; too much pain. It was the eyes, of course. The eyes never lie.

Her gaze drifted over the male Trill next; decently built, handsome, but he didn’t carry himself like someone used to hurting others. Her experienced eye extrapolated the details from the muscle groups he targeted most. He looks like a gymnast, or at least someone who wants to be. Wonder what his story is, she mused before moving on to the bearded, burly man off to the side of the ring. His face was in profile to her view, speaking quietly and intently to a much smaller woman. Rugged, experienced, she pursed her lips as she considered; Probably sexy as hell without the beard. Ah well. She watched him very closely. There’s someone who knows what he’s doing, she nodded. Her hands balled into fists as she stared, seeing the way he bounced, the way he crouched and snapped his strikes out, the way he guarded himself. Not so different from the styles taught to us at the Academy, she nodded again, minus the holds and throws, of course.

She also noticed one of the Andorian women approach the smaller woman, opposite the boxer; the two shared what appeared to be a heated discussion. Interesting, the corner of her lips curled up. Lovers quarrel? Shame—they’re both cute. She sighed then, closing her eyes as she flexed her hands into fists. Yallah, enough of that. The pretty Andorian spoke to the boxer next, who seemed mildly annoyed at whatever she told him. Talia raised her eyebrows at the drama unfolding, even more interested to see how he performed in the ring.

All that musing was interrupted by the Trill pulling his own badge out of the box; she hadn’t noticed him walk over to it, focused as she was on the goings on with the boxer. She rolled her eyes when he flexed though, hoping that for his sake those muscles helped him. Hate to see that cute face get mauled, she sucked her teeth, that’d be a shame. The name he called off the second badge meant nothing to her, until she saw the blonde Romulan move. Oh shit – he’s gonna fight her? The murmurs of the crowd seemed to agree with her; the anticipation filled the air as the pair donned their gloves and stepped into the ring.

What seemed like a few seconds in and it was over. Talia fought the urge to wince at the meaty thap of Amarik’s glove slamming into his face, failing completely for the second hit which sealed the deal. Good night, she pantomimed a small, sad wave to the handsome Trill as his knees buckled. Less than a minute, she huffed the hair out of her face, typical. The Romulan eased his fall, and the pretty Andorian was at his side in seconds. Hmm. Must be a nurse, she stroked her bottom lip with a thumbnail as she watched them treat the fallen, eyes lingering on her curves. It only lasted a few seconds, then she blinked rapidly, searching for the next contestants.

[(https://uss-theurgy.com/w/images/archive/f/fb/20160814014820%21W-o1.png) Ens. Via "DixeBee" Wix (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Via_Wix) | Via Wix's Quarters | Deck 8 | Vector 01 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @P.C. Haring @BipSpoon @Stegro99 @RyeTanker @Ellen Fitz @uytrereee @Nero @Dumedion
[Show/Hide]
When Via received the announcement that there was going to be a "Dance" in Holodeck 5, she was half tempted to just shut her PADD off and return to sleep, especially after the wild day she just had testing the PDCs. She did end up thinking that such an event would have a shit ton of free real booze that she could drink.

"Fuck it" she said as she got up from bed and put on her Wolf hoodie and sweat pants and left her room.


| Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy

One hour later after getting lost twice, Via finally arrived at the holodeck, walking inside and quickly taken off guard by the sight. The place didn't look like a dance. There was music, and booze, but people weren't dressed right. Some were wearing ancient uniforms she had only read in history books, while others were wearing more casual attire. Then there was a giant ring with people all around it cheering what looked like...

Via's eyes widened and her smile grew. She laughed at herself and facepalmed. "Who the fuck calls a fight a dance?" The woman said to herself. Fighting for fun was one of the former gang member's favorite pass times. Street fights were common where she grew up and she loved to watch them. As she grew older she started to join in herself. No matter if she won or lost Via just loved the amusement and joy she got from duking it out with people. Upon further observation, she spotted a few of her fellow Wolves too, and Zark. Of course, she made a beeline to the bar before talking to anyone, she was way too sober to be in what looked like a flight club. She went up to the counter, rested her arms on top of it, and leaned forward.

"Ay, bar dude. Tequila, the whole ass bottle, and none of the fake synth shit. Gimmie the real deal."

When the bartender returned with her order Via took the bottle and chugged it down; it would be followed by her slamming the emptied drink on the table and a loud bout of excitement from her. "Wooooo!! Fuck ya! This is what I am talkin' about! More of that good shit." The bartender came back with another bottle and Via would do the same thing. Her excitement would only be amplified with the tequila in her system. She did not know how the fighting system worked so she just did whatever she felt was right. The pilot would turn around and shout so anyone in the general bar area could hear.

"Someone fight me, let's go! If ya don't you're a lil bitch!" She laughed her ass off before asking the bartender for another bottle. Via took that one and drank it to about to the halfway mark. "All a yall are lil bitches!" She chuckled as she waited for someone to challenge her. This was her attempt of posturing, but she didn't care if the person was a wimp like her RIO or a 10 foot Klingon, she would fight anyone and she was going to have fun while doing so.

[Reggie Suder | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy ] attn:  @Auctor Lucan‍  @BipSpoon‍  @Stegro88‍  @RyeTanker‍  @Ellen Fitz‍  @uytrereee‍  @Nero‍  @Dumedion‍  @ob2lander961‍ 


Watching everyone coming in and, frankly the jawing between everyone, Reggie found herself wondering if she should go and throw her badge in the box. 

Then Arven Leux went down like a sack of potatoes and the pilot quickly re-evaluated her original re-evaluation.  No.  She would not be fighting tonight.  Leux stayed down, but Zark was quick to jump into the ring and tend to the physician.  Reggie was about to head to the ring herself and offer whatever asisstance she could provide the Andorian, but before she could even put her bottle and cigar down, Zark already had Leux on the stretcher and was taking him off the canvas.

No sooner had they cleared out did Enyd and Arnold step in. 

Well this will be an interesting bout.  Hopefully not nearly as lopsided as the last one… but I can’t imagine how Enyd is going to hold her own against Arnold.

She started to make her way closer to watch this bout, but the doors opened as two more people arrived.  Reggie recognized Via right away, of course and took in the woman’s bravado and energy as she worked herself up, spoiling for a literal fight.  Reggie couldn’t blame her.  Having been down for as long as she was aboard Oneida, Wix must have had energy to burn and she looked forward to flying with this pilot in her flight group.

But the pilot who came in before Wix, Reggie didn’t know her directly.  She’d seen her face on the roster, recently assigned to Wolf 4, if she remembered from the roster.  After the awkwardness with Wix, Reggie had made a point to stay on top of the squadron bulletins as they came in.  Reggie sensed something about the brown haired pilot and for a moment she met her eye. 

Reggie raised her bottle in a silent greeting and invitation for them to join her if they so wished.

[ Lt. ThanIda zh'Wann (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=ThanIda_zh%27Wann) | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nero 
[Show/Hide]Whilst exchanging nods and silent greetings, cursory smiles and glances, Ida had made her way to the other end of the bar and ordered Andorian ale - the synthehol kind - while waiting for her combadge to be pulled for a new match. She watched the ongoings inside the holodeck in quietude, appreciating the atmosphere with a small smile, noticing whom came and who fought.

It was interesting to see the Reman and her halfblood sister attending, and she considered how it might be to fight an XB Reman shock trooper. She was Lorad's superior officer in Security, but this evening, rank was to be left by the door, so it had little consequence. It appeared, however, that in contrast to his sister, Lorad had decided to not leave his combadge, and there was no way for him to be picked. As it were, when two combadges were picked anew, Ida had been assigned another contender.

"ThanIda zh'Wann and Logan Hale!" came the announcement, and Ida did know who this was. Her blue eyes shifted to the Lone Wolf farther down the bar counter, a pinkskin whom seemed to try to talk to a new wolf pup from the Oneida without much luck. She knew Hale had joined the crew before the Battle of the Apertures, and while hurt, he'd recovered at Aldea, and then defended the Sabine as it made its way to Qo'noS. Ida had not been on a mission together with the last remaining White Wolf, but since the wolves were so few and took such high risks for the sake of defending the crew, they were something akin to celebrities aboard.

So I'll fight a Lone Wolf again, Ida thought while she downed her drink and stepped away from the bar, starting to string her gloves on. Captain Ives had arranged a similar kind of sparring tournament prior to the Battle of Starbase 84, where she'd fought Nathaniel Isley. That time, the rules had been looser when it came to the sparring, kicks and grappling having been allowed, but she enjoyed the challenge of abiding to "fists-only". She would have to make sure she didn't accidentally slipped and dealt the pinkskin a hammer-blow with the bottom of her fist, since that wasn't allowed either given the placement of the padding of the glove.

While she approached the ring in wait for the match between her and Hale, she thought about how Isley had died over Andor, and the unresolved issues between them after the Skye Carver investigation. When she caught the eye of Logan, she smiled and inclined her head to the Human, and loosened up her shoulders a bit in wait for their time to fight.

"Let's see if you can fight outside of your cockpit, Lone Wolf," she said, antennae angling towards him.

---

OOC: Let's do a JP via PMs, @Nero ! :)

[Ens. Talia Al-Ibrahim | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @BipSpoon @Stegro88 @Auctor Lucan @RyeTanker @Ellen Fitz @uytrereee @Nero @P.C. Haring @Tae @ob2lander961

In the moments of relative quiet waiting for the second match to begin, Talia felt something draw her attention back to the bar – some kind of ruckus – her dark eyes sighting its source nearly instantly. She was petite, and younger than herself, and seemed to be trying to break some kind of record for intoxication; or attempted alcohol poisoning.

Talia narrowed her eyes when she recognized the squadron emblem on the girl’s hoodie, confusion pinching her face into a mask of disdain. Allah, there’s always one in every outfit, she rolled her eyes. Pilots were a rowdy bunch by nature of their chosen profession; then there were those that overcompensated just a bit – in her experience, they tended to be all bark, no bite.

Then the hollering started.

Nothing worse than a loudmouth, Talia groaned, working the tension out of her neck before glancing back over to her fellow pilot, willing the girl to stop embarrassing herself. As her eyes passed the crowd, she felt drawn back to Lt. Suder, whose attention seemed to be lingering on her. Meeting her eyes, Talia offered a quick nod, which was returned with a raised bottle.

Shit, she cursed as her hand dropped to the pocket of her hoodie, clasping the combadge there. Stay or go, she debated, flicking her eyes back to the loudmouth. She keeps drinking like that and the only thing she’ll be fighting is gravity – and her own stomach, Talia huffed, then stood, turning the folding chair back around. Fuck it. I came here for a reason; no sense wasting time about it.

Picking up her gym bag in her left hand, Talia squared her shoulders as she negotiated the crowd up to the front of the ring and the box there waiting for her badge. After dropping it in without a backward glance, she took a round-about route; one that gave her inebriated peer at the bar a wide berth, while bringing her within talking distance to Lt. Suder.

She offered the legendary pilot her best approximation of a friendly smile as she paused next to her. “I’m Shadow,” she offered her hand in greeting, “new-blood to the Wolves. I’d love to talk shop with you sometime LT,” she added, then jerked her head to the ring. “Should probably wait until after I fight though – so I can remember,” Talia laughed nervously.

[ Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen & Lieutenant Frank Arnold | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] @BipSpoon @Tae @Nero @Stegro88 @P.C. Haring @RyeTanker @Dumedion @Auctor Lucan

This ring was his canvas. His fists the brushes that would create the portrait of their match. Frank had no doubt that he would best Enyd, and it appeared the woman also already believed herself the loser. While it wasn’t his place to question her motives for the challenge, Frank still felt a tickle of curiosity niggling in the back of his mind as he led the way into the ring. While he had no interest in pummeling the lady into the next century, Frank did at least hope through the process of the fight she was able to work her way through whatever it was haunting her gaze.

He was no head doctor, but he recognized that look. He’d seen it reflected back at himself in the mirror a time or two over the years. His sense of duty and obligation had carried him through many a terror-filled situation but that didn’t stop the brooding self-doubt that nagged his every step once things slowed down. Being in the ring and engaged in a match, that was one of only a few areas where the caviling confusion that accompanied surviving chaos settled into a static silence. Time spent with Jaya, yes, that was yet another, but now was not the time for thoughts on a certain auburn-haired Ensign.

Snorting with a sense of self-deprecating amusement, Enyd rapidly processed through her reasons for following the powerful pugilist into this ring. Fear. The fear of failure and helplessness weighed on her right glove. While survivor’s guilt gilded her left. Flexing her fingers within the cushion of the gloves, Enyd noted the tautness of the hand wraps, flexible enough to allow for movement, but tight enough to offer additional protection. A laughable thought, really, protection whilst throwing yourself in front of gloved fists intending upon doing you harm. Enyd suddenly jerked to a stop. Frank had halted in the middle of the ring and stood staring at her with an expectant gaze. Enyd moved closer, remembering the boxing tradition he’d spoken of earlier.

“Remember, fights are noisy,” Frank spoke once they stood near toe-to-toe in the middle of the ring, “keep peace in your soul.” It was something he liked to say, usually to those he worked with, but considering the context, Frank felt Enyd might appreciate the sentiment, if only later, post-match. “Just follow the steps of the dance.”

Enyd hummed her acknowledgement as they knocked gloves together. Each took a series of short steps back. Frank moved with gliding confidence. His powerful body fluid as he assumed his positon opposite her, his feet already falling into the necessary steps required of their “dance.” Enyd raised her fists into a block stance, wafting the tarry scent of leather into her senses. A clanging bell started them off.

She didn’t hesitate. Enyd advanced, throwing a flurry of punches. Jabs, hooks, crosses, and jabs again. Her hands were fast as she danced in and out of Frank’s space. So early in the match, Enyd’s natural stamina stood in her favor. She remembered his warning, and never remained in once spot longer than half a second. Enyd imagined herself a whirlwind of action, determined to sweep Frank away out of a sheer frenzied barrage of attacks.

Fighting Enyd, so far, was like fighting a manic octopus. Though her punches were well-aimed and timed well, and her form reflective of being a quick learner, there was the caveat of her lack of experience and power. While she did land a few jabs against his gut, and one cross nearly got his chin, none of the punches packed the power necessary to do much more than tickle. At least not to someone like Frank. It seemed that the very advice he’d given her, to wear down her opponent first and then attack, was being turned on its head and she was going to wear herself out first.

Ring-wise and crafty, Frank maintained just enough distance to keep her chasing after him. He continued to lure her around the ring in a feigned retreat, allowing her to believ herself the advancing lead, while in reality she was only playing into his ploy. It was all about showmanship, and Frank intended on giving the spectators a good show.

Enyd tried another cross and caught wind. That was when Frank made his first strike. His quick jab into her solar plexus sent her clattering and sputtering across the mat. His left hook caught her blocking glove, knocking it against her face, and Enyd let out a gurgling groan. Enyd wheezed in another gasp when Frank’s quick, low right hook caught her in the side. Licking her lips, her mouth filled with the tang of salt. Only a few minutes into the match and she had droplets of sweat dotting her face. But Enyd felt her anxiety pour of her with every droplet that stained her clothes. As their waltz continued–perhaps Austrian as Frank preferred–the overhead lights flashed and glared in and out of focus as if in tune with Enyd’s pants.

Frank respected Enyd’s fighting spirit. She’d weathered his own “tickling” attacks far better than he’d expected. But Frank possessed fists of iron and after using the first few attacks as a plumb line, he now knew the strength necessary to make a dent against the diplomat. His breath hissing through his teeth, a strong left caught Enyd unprepared and drove her toward the ropes.

As she stumbled back, Enyd sucked in her breath, her hands lashing out in quick one-two jabs. But Frank was a master of space and time. He had more power and skill, and longer reach, factors he’d warned her about in their preliminary sparring. She stared at Frank from behind the curve of glove that blocked her face. Enyd noted the smile near hidden from within his salt and pepper bearded face. He was doing this for fun where she was doing this for therapy. Shaking herself, Enyd concentrated her gaze on the focal point between his furrowed brows.

Frank continued his advance. He was herding her as a dog might sheep, his feints working without challenge. And Enyd continued her retreat, her jabs, hooks, uppercuts all futile and now executed as if as an afterthought. Frank’s swipes and lunges were just close enough to get her to duck and shift in the direction he wanted. He blocked her efforts with ease, swatting away her gloved hands as one might a pesky fly. The dance, so energetically begun, seemed to be reaching its climax.

Frank had a killer instinct, and this was the instrument the drove the wheel of destruction in his favor time and time again. The edge of the ring was very close behind Enyd. He could sense her wavering attention. Pressing his advantage, his uppercut lifted Enyd off her feet and tossed her against the rope. When she turned, desperately clamoring at the rope to keep herself upright, Frank sensed panic grip her as if he felt it himself.

“Whoah now, easy does it.” Frank reached out to steady her until she was firmly planted again, fists automatic in their movement to block. “You certain you wanna keep going?”

Instead of keeping her eyes firmly planted on Frank’s form, gaging his ever shifting body to note where he might next strike, Enyd’s concentration wavered. She was both within the ring and above it, watching events unfold. She knew she needed to be out from under his pressure, the edge of the ring a dangerous place to be pinned. His swift uppercut caught her unawares and she was bodily lifted, tossed against the rope.

Her dazed senses swirling in seeing the edge of the ring looming and her friends lining it, more shadows moving among shadows, disfigured specters, Enyd faltered. Hissing a panted breath through her teeth, Enyd grabbed the rope as if it would keep her from falling into the pit she knew existed in her head alone. Through the tunnel of burgeoning fear, Enyd heard the claps and cheers of the spectators. Rearing back and stumbling to the right, Frank’s gloved hand steadied her, jerking her away from the panic.

She could only whine out a barely comprehensible phrase of acknowledgment to his question. The weight of her clothes seemed almost too much. She kelt keenly the tightness of her waistband and the scratch of hemlines. Fatigue gripped her. Her feet no longer rustling and shuffling as she “danced.” Instead, despite her well-intentioned efforts, her body plodded and swayed between the heavy thuds of Frank’s relentless hits.

After a few more “tickling” jabs, Frank took pity on the woman. If one could call it pity. His left jab caught her jaw, Enyd’s head cracking back and compressing her spine. His right uppercut met her gut, once more lifting her off the mat. His left hook rattled her brain, and his right cross once more smashed against her chest, throwing her off her feet. There was no stopping the sudden and immediate collapse. Her body slapped against the mat, bouncing from the mometum of his last punch, and slid a few inches from the slick sheen of sweat coating her skin.

In the stunned silence that followed her crumbling mass against the floor, Enyd convinced herself this was worth it. Her heart roaring in her ears, the vinegary scent of the mat filling her nostrils, Enyd dragged a gloved hand close. Her body felt as if lead itself were pumping through her veins.

Through the rusted burst of blood in her mouth, Enyd whispered, “Enough.”

Frank watched as a splatter of blood haloed upon the mat by her face as Enyd literally and figuratively tapped out of the match. He wasn’t one to beat a woman bloody and not lend a hand. Though he knew he was about to hear from that Andorian, Frank shuffled to Enyd’s side and bent to lend assistance in getting her out of the ring.

“You did good, Madsen.”

Enyd’s smile was blood stained but unabashedly bright with self-satisfaction. Frank let out a chuckle as they hauled themselves out of the ring and made room for the next pair.

That's right you did good Madsen, but I didn't even get to break a sweat.  Ah well, now where is that spirited Andorian that threatened me earlier ah ha! Frank thought to himself as he half carried, half dragged the semi-conscious Enyd with one arm around his neck, and another one around her waist.  The spirited Andorian in question scrambled on the mat and quickly moved to support Enyd from the other side as she grabbed the diplomat's other arm.  Heh, it can't be that bad if she didn't tell me to put her down right away, kinda reminds of that time when, ah never mind.  "Excuse me ladies, let me get that for you." And the engineer let go of Enyd, who seemed to be moving a little more under her own power as he went to pull the ring ropes out of the way and let the two women through.  He let out a little chuckle in appreciation as Zark bent over to deftly manoeuvre her patient through the gap with ease and led her down some steps she'd summoned on the way before bodily pulling his dance partner to a chair and gently dropping her in it.

With his two charges through, Frank slipped through the ring and hopped down "You know Madsen, you got some talent and with some training from yours truly, we can turn you professional, have to work on that stamina of yours though.  You look like that time I went 10 rounds with this Naussican....."  Uncharacteristically, Frank stopped when he saw the medic's head snap to him and though her face was set in stone, her eyes looked just short of harm, and her antennae were pinned against her head. "Oh! come on Zark!" Frank pretty said mock plaintively picking up right where he stopped as he spread his arms wide.

---

NPC'ed Frank with original writer's permission, with additional insight from new writer.

[Lt (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark) | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy]

Attn: @P.C. Haring @Tae @BipSpoon @Ellen Fitz @Stegro88 @Dumedion @Auctor Lucan @ob2lander961

The endless tension came to an end as the bell rang and Zark's breathing became more shallow as she focused on the fight and suddenly Enyd burst forward in an all out assault against the big Chief Engineer.  A full fury attack could work, but it was usually when a bigger opponent would crowd a smaller one, not the other way around.  Frank Arnold did exactly what Zark would have done in the same circumstance, backed off and trade space for time for the opponent to wear themselves out.  Zark's trained eye saw there was talent that spoke of a life of violence in one shape or another, but it lacked the experience to know when to commit, and for the smaller opponent, this was way too early.  The blue green gaze shifted to Frank and she watched him just dance out of range of each strike.  When Enyd did hit, it didn't seem to faze him and she felt a grudging respect for bearded human.  He was tough. 

The Andorian's mouth and eyes tightened when Frank's counter smashed into the diplomat and she turned away to where Dr Leux lay while summoning a holographic PADD.  She quickly recorded a summation of the Doctor's injuries and treatment with an intense looking warning that he should have himself checked over again when he visited sickbay next.  Dropping the PADD on the semi-comotose Doctor, Zark grabbed her med bag and dashed out the privacy screen back to the fight and her heart sank, for although Frank seemed ready to just end it, Enyd did not and she looked terrible as her medical mind began to look at the pummelling she'd already received.  Zark couldn't stop it now as the engineer demonstrated his skills in corralling his opponent and Zark could see how precarious Enyd's position was becoming with each step.  "Enyd! Sidestep and get off the goddamn ropes!"  The medico yelled but it was to no avail as with Arven Leux, Enyd Madsen was too lost to something, and only the big man's steadying arm seemed to pull her back from a nightmare precipice, but not the fight itself and the pounding continued till Enyd took a rapid brutal combo that sent her smashing into the mat.

Zark's eyes were wide in shock at how brutal the fight had turned and she held a bated breath as the diplomat lay on the mat, slowly leaking blood.  Life was still with the human though as she weakly tapped out, and Zark let out a long breath as she leaned on the mat in relief.  Quickly regaining her senses, she vaulted on to the mat as Frank was busy carrying Enyd in her direction.  Rapidly slinging the near comatose diplomat's free arm over her shoulder, Zark moved quickly and with little horizontal motion to the ropes before the bloody human's whole weight was transferred to her as Frank moved to pull the ropes apart.  "Thea, gentle steps in front attached to the ring base to the ground." The medico commanded as she mentally thanked the engineer and smoothly guided Enyd through the gap.

When the combat medic reached the floor, she gently placed her patient in a chair and began her examination.  Frank had obviously caught up and was talking to Madsen.  When Frank tried to make light of the pounding he'd handed her, Zark felt herself become incensed at the apparent callousness and her head whipped around to glare at the engineer.  Furious blue-green eyes held the glare  for second before remembering that Enyd had asked for this and Arnold had made sure she was okay several times as he spread his arms, really wide.  Zark relented and shook her head, rage wasn't going to help anyone in this case and maybe the talk would be a good distraction.  "Sorry Chief, keep going, I'll stop you when I need to work on Enyd." Zark grumpily apologized as she moved to examine her tricorder and the list of injuries that could be detected and the one's she'd be guessing at as her body unconsciously began to relax.  She could be in much worse shape, at least there's no broken bones.   One of Enyd's eyes was swollen shut, the other one was following suit, there was blood streaming from her nose onto her white top, lips puffing from internal cuts, bruises galore all over.  "Okay Chief, it's time for you to leave, I have a patient to treat, and she'll be fine, just like that other idiot." and as an olive branch, she made a matronly shooing motion that resulted in Frank giving her a quip about bossy doctors and taking off his gloves to find a drink. "See you around Madsen, and thank you Miss Zark." and gave a jaunty wave before leaving.

The medico took stock and summoned a privacy screen before digging into her bag of tricks to get the diplomat all fixed up.  Grabbing a big cotton swab on a stick laced a coagulants and anti bacterials, cobalt hands held the humans head straight as she jammed the whole thing into the bleeding nose.  Next came and injection of pain killers and anti-inflammatories before the delicate part.  Grabbing the dermal regenerator and auto suture, the medico's face blanked as she began focusing on bringing all the swelling around one eye under control before moving on to the next.  Zark got part way before a glove swiped away the regenerator. "Hey! Enyd what are you.....?"  Then she saw the devilish light in those emerald eyes and a weak tug at the red lips.  The Andorian snorted as a crooked smile broke over her own blue face.  "Girl, you be crazy, I'm going to reduce it to a pretty shiner and that's non negotiable as are the cut in your lips, your swelling nose, your cheeks, and the bruises on your torso, some of them are pretty nasty.  The arms ones aren't that critical, so you can keep them, and I'll even be nice and let you keep the one on your jaw, maybe a cheek if I'm feeling generous. The rest go. Understand?"  Zark didn't even wait for a response as she got back to work.

[ Lt. ThanIda zh'Wann (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=ThanIda_zh%27Wann) & Lt. JG Logan Hale, callsign "Wraith" (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Logan_Hale,_callsign_"Wraith")| Holodeck ] Joint-Post by Auctor Lucan & Nero
[Show/Hide]For a second, the pilot was stuck in shock, not knowing exactly what had just happened. He listened when he heard his name called by the crier. He looked around and through a magically parting line of people found the face of the blue-skinned Andorian, who nodded at him with a dapper smile. The pilot raised his arms in the air and let out loud cries of joy. At last, it began. The taunts against Reggie were quickly forgotten. He accepted the challenge.

"Do you have any idea who you're messing with?" asked Zeke over his shoulder. Logan shook his head slightly. "Nope. No idea."
He heard a heavy sigh as the two made their way over to his opponent and a small shove prayer to the heavens. "Very well" Ezekiel said. "It’s your funeral. I'll go and collect for your tombstone then."

While donning her black gloves, Ida watched the Lone Wolf as he accepted the challenge, smiling a little at the antics of the pinkskin with the metal plating on his head. Noticing how he had a cybernetic contraption, and how it was likely a medical thing, she inclined her head towards it.

"Do I have to be mindful about that?" she asked with a raised eyebrow and antenna. "I'd hate to have to pull punches if you're not cleared by medical for this kind of thing."

Logan waved it off. "You don't have to worry about that," he tapped his implant. "It's already survived several g's of acceleration force, so it'll be able to take a hit or two. Besides, there's not much left to salvage anyway."

Chuckling, Ida acknowledged the answer with a nod and then looked towards the ring. Soon enough the ring was cleared for them, and it was their turn to step inside the ropes. Her movements were economical, without flair, and when she stepped to her corner, picking the blue one, she simply did some dynamic stretching of her shoulders and her legs, working some blood into them. When she felt loose enough, she threw a few rapid punches into the air, and she was satisfied that she was ready.

In the meantime, a hologram was announcing their fight. "Ladies and gentlemen, from the red corner - weighting 74.84 kg - it is Logan Hale, callsign 'Wraith'!"

The pilot fired up the crowd. As he did so, he jerked his gloved fists in the air several times and emitted more cries of joy. He liked it. The atmosphere was great, and the people were in a good mood. Tonight, they would all have a good time partying and blowing off some steam. Logan headed back to his corner where his best friend was already waiting for him. "Are you really sure you want to do this, Logan?”

"And from the blue corner..." the hologram said with a little wink to the audience, "of course, we have the Deputy, weighing in at 61 kg, it's Than'Ida zh'Wann!"

Humouring the event she'd chosen to participate in, Ida stepped forward and gave a wave to the audience with a black glove - a small smile touching her face. She was just hoping she'd remember some of the rules when it came to this Earthen sport...

"All right, then," Zeke sighed when Logan didn't answer him. "At least take care of yourself. Her kind is known for their power and strength. From what I've seen, she's right-handed. So, watch your guard on the right."

The announcer made room for the referee, who asked the two opponents to join him in the middle.

"I want to see a clean fight." he said in a heavy New York accent, typical of the late twentieth century Bronx. "No dirty tricks, you understand?"

Logan nodded curtly and used his tongue to push his mouthguard into place one last time. He thrust his gloved hands forward to greet his opponent. "I'm Logan, by the way," he mumbled. "Good luck."

"Ida," the Deputy replied in kind, before putting her mouthguard in place and gave a nod to the referee. She then raised her guard and began to circle her opponent - starting to read how he moved.

The pilot raised his fists and went into his starting position. He bobbed from one leg to the other. It almost looked like he was prancing. The two opponents circled each other once. Then a second time. Logan looked for a way to land a good punch. A professional boxer would surely have noticed dozens of possibilities. But Logan had to search a bit. As they both circled around each other for the third time he decided to try his luck and force an opening at her. Logan quickly brought his right forward, which as he had hoped, was blocked by the Andorian. This gave him the opportunity to strike with his left.

The reason the strike landed was that Ida's large gloves blocked her sight, so she didn't catch the punch in time to keep it entirely away from the side of her face. She'd intercepted it with her forearm, if belatedly, but since this was a game and not a real fight, it seemed her opponent got a point from his opening. Trying to keep herself from getting irritated by it, since it had barely grazed her, Ida went on the offensive instead.

The referee made his point count, but Logan had no time to listen to him, because he had to dodge the deft blows of his opponent. Zeke had been right. It was only thanks to his advice that most of her punches had passed in his guard. Logan kept his guard up and his eyes open. Punch after punch he fended off, allowing himself to be pushed further and further toward the ropes. Then came his chance. He ducked away to his left under her last punch, but before he could land a blow, the bell rang again, ending the first round.

Ida stepped away when the bell rang, shaking her head with a small smile of disappointment. She'd almost had him, about to hunt after him while he tried to retreat, but he'd been 'saved by the bell', like the pinkskins tended to say. First round finished, and while she'd been dealing most of the punches throughout it, the pilot had managed to block her, so she'd earned no points. She had been mindful about not sweeping his legs out or dealing any kicks against his ribcage, since that's what instinct told her to do, but she had to keep the rules in mind. As it were, she went to her corner and leaned back against the ropes - the overhead lights playing over the top of her chest while she caught her breath.

Saved by the bell, Logan thought. He almost was able to place another good punch, but time threw a wrench in his plans. He went back to his corner, where his best friend was already waiting for the amateur boxer. Zeke gave him water to drink and briefly massaged the pilot's muscles. It was more exhausting than he remembered. Logan had to breathe heavily.

"Your defenses seem to be working halfway, Logan. Keep your guard up and don't get provoked. Find the gaps and exploit them."
Logan nodded in affirmation. "What do you think I've been trying to do all this time."

"Round 2!"

When the call was made, Ida stepped away from the ropes and met her opponent in the centre of the ring once more. She'd given her tactics some thoughts, and began to feint her intentions by switching sides and hinting at dealing a couple of jabs at him. In the hopes to have unbalanced him, keeping him from anticipating her next move, Ida then feinted in a new direction before stepping forth and dealing a heavy uppercut. She was fairly confident that kind of strike was allowed, and she landed her first hit.

Realization was the first thing that flashed through his mind as he took the heavy uppercut. He realized that he had fallen for her feint and now had to bear the consequences. Logan lost his balance and went down. The referee awarded the point to his opponent. The pilot had to acknowledge that without envy. That was a damn good move, but it's not over yet. Logan quickly recovered and got back up. His gloved fist rubbed his chin. Now it was his turn.

Evidently, the pilot hadn't been discouraged by the momentary setback, and went on the offensive. Ida stepped back once, twice and a third time while keeping her guard up, but in the knowledge that she might reach the ropes soon, she anticipated the next strike and since she was acting on instinct... she ended up catching Logan's arm and spun around, throwing the pilot off his feet and straight into the ropes. Belatedly, as she used the opportunity to deal another strike to the pilots head, Ida realised what she'd done. She'd used the full momentum and weight of the pilot against him in the throw, and then caught him as he rebounded towards her fist. It made the punch she landed quite a bit more hard than she'd intended...

Just a moment ago, the pilot was standing in front of the Andorian, trying to reach a safe point with a well-aimed punch, and the next moment he was lying on the ground with a bleeding nose on the other side of his opponent. Ida's counterattack was unexpected and brutal. Any other fight would probably have been decided like this. But Logan was glad it wasn't any other fight. He certainly would have taken a few dozen more blows if it had been.

"Foul!" called the referee and pointed towards her. "One point reduction."

"Fair, my apologies," said Ida through her mouthpiece, and raised her fists again. She had to remember that this wasn't a real fight. It's just a game... Come on. Less instinct, more thought. Which, admittedly, was opposite of how she usually fought.

The referee helped the pilot up and asked if he felt able to continue fighting. Logan blinked his way through the disorientation, then nodded. Many would consider it foolish, and certainly they were right to do so, but Logan was not one to give up easily. Not anymore, at least. He didn't feel any dizziness or nausea, so he nodded to the hologram and fixed his own nose with a crack. A pained groan escaped through his clenched teeth.

The two opponents began to circle each other again. Logan managed to land a few good punches, just as the Andorian managed to land a few good hits on her part. Then the bell ended that round as well.

Logan went back to his corner and dropped onto the stool that had been placed there. Zeke took care of his nose in a makeshift manner. "Shit Logan, that looks really bad. You sure you want to keep going?" The pilot contorted his face painfully as his friend dabbed it with a towel. "Just need to take a breath. Then we'll move on."

Regretting having hurt the pinkskin, Ida was looking at her opponent from across the ring during the intermission. When he didn't meet her gaze, she walked over to him - making the referee raise his eyebrows at her. She was unaware if there were any traditional rules about interacting with the opponent, but rules be damned, she wanted to check on him since it was a friendly match. Her antennae and eyes were raised in query. "Are you okay, Logan? I'm sorry about that. Acted on instinct. Do you want to continue?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Logan replied through his teeth clenched in pain.

"Bullshit!", Zeke admonished him. "You're not fine at all." then louder, "Is there a doctor present?"

Logan looked at him incredulously. "It's just a broken nose. It's not the first time, Zeke. It'll heal up."

"Shut the hell up," Zeke now determined with serious concern. "I'll have a doctor look at that now, or I'll throw in the towel for you. Are we clear?"

Another incredulous second from the pilot. "Yes, Mom."

"Good."

An alley formed in the throng of the audience, and a person in an older version of the Starfleet uniform walked through it toward the ring. The man of human descent had long passed forty. He climbed through the ropes and knelt beside the pilot. His tricorder was about the size of a small suitcase, slung in leather, and hung from his shoulder by a strap. The man flipped open the lid and Logan realized that the doctor must have been from an era when the Enterprise carried only the letters NCC in its registry.

The doctor picked up the sensor unit and brought it close over the pilot's nose. He looked at the data on the small display of his archaic tricorder.

"Hmm... That's quite a break you got there, kid. It's nothing we can't fix, though. You'll be back on your feet and fighting in no time."

He turned away from Logan for a moment and raised her eyes to the ceiling. "Computer - Thea - hand me the osteo regenerator, please."

The medical device, sitting in a medkit, was beamed to the floor next to Logan. [Here you go, Doctor McCoy.]

It was good to see that the hologram of Dr. Leonard McCoy was updated with the current state-of-the-art medical database and that his appearance was only mostly cosmetic. The treatment didn't take long, and Logan was able to breathe normally through his nose only moments later. The pain was only a pale memory, and he was ready to continue the fight. Logan thanked the doctor and vowed to do a little reading up on him when he found the time. The doctor then disappeared back into the audience and the referee asked the opponents to return to the center of the ring.

The bell sounded for the third round, and Ida nodded, stepping away before the fight resumed.

Once again, the opponents lurked to find gaps in their opponents' defenses. Logan kept shifting his weight from left to right. Then came the exchange of blows. Both put their foot down and scored a few points. Slowly, Logan's more defensive fighting style pushed him back toward the ropes. But this time Logan was prepared and wasted no time. Just before he reached the ropes, he ducked under one of her punches and countered the attack with a quick jab.

The jab caught Ida, giving Logan one point, but Ida dealt a haymaker of her own that hit a fraction of a second afterwards. The force of the blow did not fully connect since the pilot was in motion, but at least she got a point of her own. It would not be fair towards the pinkskin to not do her best to win the match, not about to forfeit it because she'd hurt him before, so she gave pursuit without letting up - hunting him with a series of punches and jabs. She constantly had to remind herself not using her legs in her pursuit, however, since being female, she often utilised kicking. It was even one of the mainstays in Kharakom, which was the closest resembling martial arts she knew... so it caused some gaps in her combos.

That she didn't hold back, Logan had to grant her without envy. Yes, she had broken his nose and sent him to the boards by unfair means, yet Logan could see that she was trying to stick to the rules of the fight and not let him win because she felt guilty. She pacified him with a barrage of jabs and punches.

The pilot noticed a pattern, though. It was almost as if she was replaying a certain sequence of movements repeatedly. A few punches, then pause, a few punches, then another pause. It took Logan a moment to realize that the pause was to kick. So, Ida made an effort not to kick, which explained the pauses. This was his chance. Logan timed the next break in their program and countered it with a hard punch to the chest.

The counter came through and broke the consecutive attacks Ida had been dealing the pilot's guard. It caught Ida in the torso, making her take a step back and loose her breath a little. Once more, years and years of instinctual training kicked in, so when a new strike came high, she sank down and spun - sweeping out her opponent's legs from underneath him with her leg. Her eyes widened as she did it, realising belatedly that once more, she'd failed to adhere to the rules. Shelat!

"Foul! One more time and I am disqualifying you, Deputy. Two points deduction."

"Noted," she said, angry with herself rather than the regulations of the bout, but she reached down to help the pinkskin back on his feet. She gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Apologies, again..."

Logan had landed back on the boards, wondering if the stand-up man wasn't named after him when someone saw this fight here and traveled through time to the past. For the third time in this fight, he was on the floor, but accepted the apology from the Andorian as well and allowed her to help him back to his feet. Logan knew instinct when he saw it. It was no different with him. He often let his instincts guide him in the cockpit as well, which had gotten him into dicey situations a few times himself and was one of the reasons why Ezekiel Jackson no longer flew with him and had sought a safer job in flight control.

Logan let his head spin through his neck, welcoming the liberating crack of his bones. "No problem." he said curtly and returned to his starting position. Between the raised gloves he watched his opponent in whose skin he did not want to be now.
One more time they traded blows. Again, they tried to find gaps in each other's cover. Logan, however, was now going for a more aggressive approach and intensified his attempts to land good punches and jabs. He didn't want to be driven into a corner or the ropes again. He saw his chance coming and gave Ida an uppercut.

The uppercut broke up the momentum that Ida had utilised to drive Logan backwards, but he saw the strike coming and managed to way backwards in time to let the attack pass harmlessly in front of her nose. In dealing the punch, the pinkskin had reclaimed the initiative, and Ida was then forced to back away and be on the defensive. All in all, they both earned a few points from glancing hits when the referee blew the whistle.

The round ended and Logan went back to his corner. He sat down on the stool and awaited his buddy's biting comments.

"What's the matter, Zeke? Nothing more to say?"

"Nope." he said curtly. "You don't listen to me anyway."

"True."

"So, let's go, Logan."

"Let's do it." Logan smiled and considered getting the win by getting Ida to make another mistake and pick up her third foul. But something bothered him about the thought of winning by such an unfair means. No, Logan decided against it. He would not tempt her to foul. She deserved a fair chance. After all, they were just here for fun. It wasn't a real fight where there was no fairness. The fact that she faced this fight at all deserved recognition. Besides, he still wanted to be able to look himself in the mirror tomorrow, after the swellings on his face had subsided.

On Ida's part, she knew that if she let instinct guide her gain the pinkskin would win, so she had been more on the defensive than in earlier rounds. She'd worked up a good sweat, feeling it trickle down between her breasts and her shoulderblades, but the intermission allowed her to regain her breath. She picked up a towel and dabbed her brow, finding the lights above the stage too warm for comfort.

"Fourth round!"

Here's to a new one!, Logan thought and had gone to the center of the ring with his will strengthened again. Now that Zeke had stopped playing his conscience, the only thing that should really stand in his way was the blue-skinned woman. Now he just had to defeat her somehow and in a fair way.

Her blows came fast and hard. The pilot tried in vain to dodge them all or to counter them. For her part, she didn't allow many punches, but it was enough to give the pilot the opportunity to reach for her every now and then. Logan seized one of the few opportunities. He feinted a high blow, then quickly ducked, and delivered another blow to her torso.

The attack came right when Ida felt she had him where she wanted him to be, gaining points from the punches she managed to land with the over-sized gloves. She was wearing him out, she'd believed, until the point where he used an opening to strike towards her face. It was, however, a feint, and too late, she caught on to his real intent. With no time to think, she caught the blow by blocking it with her forearm. She spun with the block, back towards the opponent, and recognised how close he was and went with the only option available to her. Before she realised it, her elbow had connected with the side of Logan's head. The metal piece there cut her blue skin, and the sound of the impact reverberated in the air.

Logan was sure that he now had her where he wanted her to be and was accordingly surprised by her reaction. The sound of the impact echoed loudest in his head. Ida's instinctive counterattack caught Logan off guard. He let out a surprised sigh. All at once stars danced before his eyes and the force of the blow sent him crashing to the ground. His knees buckled and his legs no longer supported his weight. Only the fact that he somehow managed to support himself saved him from greater damage.

"Foul! You're disqualified, Deputy. The match goes to your opponent." The referee looked sour, and understandably so.

"Shelat!" Ida said out loud, ignoring the referee entirely, and went to Logan side - crouching down. She reached down with a hand to the side of his face and looked into his eyes. "Hey, are you okay? I am sorry. Are you hurt?"

The pilot blinked against the sudden brightness and had to orient himself for a moment. But after a few seconds, the spook was over. His implant had actually absorbed the greatest impact. He flinched a little when he realized how close Ida had come to look into his eyes. Though he smiled through red-stained teeth. "It's all right, Ida. Don't worry."

Logan tapped her forearm with his glove and felt more hands on his head a moment later. Ezekiel Jackson had rushed into the ring and was also worried about the pilot. "Fuck, Logan! Don't fuck around, dude!"

Logan wanted to stand up, but the people present would not allow it. Once again, Dr. McCoy was consulted and once again, he had to give him a hypospray. "Damn, kid!" he cursed as he checked the pilot with his ancient-looking tricorder for a concussion or worse. "Well, you’ve been bloody lucky there." He shooed the bystanders aside so his patient could get up and nodded to the referee. "Now get on with it! I want to see the next fight."

The referee didn't need to be told twice and grabbed the pilot's hand. "Victory by disqualification of his opponent: Logaaaaaaaaaaaaan Haaaaaale!"

After being ushered away from her opponent, Ida took her defeat gracefully. She didn't really mind the fallout beyond being irritated with herself for not being able to adhere to the rules and subduing her fighting instincts enough to participate without hurting someone. She didn't blame the rules, really, but she had learned the lesson that she far preferred sparring where you were allowed to kick and grapple as well. She removed her gloves and applauded her opponent along with the audience, a tight-lipped smile creasing her eyes. Overall, she was just glad the fighter pilot was okay.

The victory had a really bitter aftertaste and Logan didn't like that. Zeke hadn't left him out of the loop after the fight. He made sure the pilot didn't get another smack by having his Starfleet badge taken out of the lottery pot. Taking advantage of this moment of carelessness on the part of his best friend, however, the pilot worked his way through the crowd over to Ida, who had just made her way to the bar. "Hey Ida. Thanks for the fight, even if it didn't go the way we hoped. Can I still buy you a beer?"

The pinkskin wasn't rubbing in his victory, for which Ida was grateful, and since she had yet to order a refreshment, she took up the offer with a small smile and inclination of her head. "Sure, I'll have an Andorian ale, thank you. Also, my apologies. I am not used to rules that are so restrictive. I am glad I did not end up hurting you more than I did. No hard feelings?"

[ Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] @BipSpoon  @Tae  @Stegro88  @P.C. Haring @RyeTanker

“Thank you, Mister Arnold.” Enyd’s voice was gravely and barely audible given their environment, but she sensed Frank heard her as he complimented her efforts before helping Zark pull her from the ring.

She felt the frustration and concern rolling off Zark as the medico worked to get her settled so she could see to Enyd’s injuries. An unwinded, unharmed, and likely amused Frank left her moments after Enyd was properly situated. Enyd listened to Zark dither about finishing her work on another patient, Arvo if Enyd remembered correctly, before returning to Enyd’s side. Her body hurt like the dickens. Even with Zark’s efforts, Enyd knew her body would be feeling this round for a bit. And that was precisely why she’d done this. So long as she felt the wincing pain of hard effort radiate through her body, Enyd could fight against old demons more readily.

When Zark made to completely eradicate evidence of the fight, Enyd swatted at her hands. Without having to stumble her way through an explanation, Zark seemed to understand the sentiment behind her protest and reassured Enyd of a few bruises and aches. Enyd responded with a weary grin, thankful for a friend who could be so understanding even if she didn’t agree.

“Thank you, Zark.” Enyd sighed as the worst of the pain dissipated under her care. “I think I’ll head back to my quarters for a nice long shower after this.”

Even with the medical aid, Enyd’s movements were a bit stiff as she rose to her feet. Without hesitation, she pulled Zark into a hug.

Whispering against her skin, “Thank you for not judging my brand of crazy,” Enyd lightly kissed her friend’s jaw below her ear as she pulled back. “See you later.”

Enyd took care to wave and nod at the other crew members in the room that she knew as she retreated from the ring and made her way back to her quarters. The demons had been beaten back and she could sleep at last in peace.

---

Exit stage right for Enyd in this thread.

[(https://uss-theurgy.com/w/images/archive/f/fb/20160814014820%21W-o1.png) Ens. Via "DixeBee" Wix (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Via_Wix) | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @P.C. Haring @BipSpoon @Stegro99 @RyeTanker @Ellen Fitz @uytrereee @Nero @Dumedion
[Show/Hide]
As Via was puffing up her chest to literally anyone that was near her, she noticed her Flight Lead who seemingly noticed the rambunctious as well. Without Charles to keep her in check any type of customs and curiosities that she would've somewhat given to Reggie went completely out of her mind; Via was just happy to see her again.

She waved back with a somewhat childlike smile on her face, but before she made her way over to her she ordered 4 more bottles of Tequila from the bartender. As she walked Via was so excited- she bumped into several people and nearly tripped herself by the time she got there.

"YO, LT!!" She enthusiastically said followed by a burp. "Your ass needs to try this shit, REAL BOOZE!!"
Via held a Tequila bottle up like it was a display product.

"You never gettin' this shit anywhere. Do you know how long my ass been waitin' in a tight ass sickbay, just to try this shit for reals?!" She popped the bottle open and started chugging until half was left, the woman was just about on the verge of being drunk which made it all the more fun.

 "Anyyywho...why is you ass here?!" Via playfully chuckled "Tryin' to get up in people's guts?...wait...I mean gettin' into people's guts... no, puchin' people's guts...somethin'... fuckin', are you tryin' to beat someone's ass up?! ...Yeah that part, ignore my dumb ass earlier."

Via looked back at the fight in the middle of the space. "See I love this shit! Just fightin' with no worries. My dumb ass did that shit all the time when I was a kid. We just start fightin' for no reason and we always beat the livin' shit out of each other. I gotta get my ass in there..." She said followed by taking a swig from her bottle and looking back at Reggie.

[ Lieutenant Frank Arnold | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy]

@Auctor Lucan @P.C. Haring @ob2lander961 @Dumedion @Nero @Ellen Fitz @Stegro88

Frank needed a few moments to himself and the Deputy fighting the Lone Wolf was a great time to do so.  He'd just made his way to the bar and ordered a red ale  and he leaned against the bar as the Andorian and Pilot began getting ready in the ring.  As he took his first chug of ale to quench his thirst, the bell rang and the two went at it.  Frank could appreciate that the two had some idea of what they were doing, but the Deputy appeared somewhat out of her element as several shots that should have been deflected got through.  Bushy salt and pepper brows furrowed in confusion since he expected better from security deputy.  As the round went on, the Andorian went all in. Frank noticed this mostly when he trained with Andorians that they tended to be quite aggressive, usually sacrificing some defence in an attempt to overwhelm their opponent.  There were times it worked, but it was a high risk high reward option that depended on knocking out the opponent quickly.  What could have been a nasty counter when she missed was stopped just as the bell rang and Frank smiled as he made his way over to a table closer to the ring and leaned on it to support his big frame.  He took a moment to see where Zark was treating Enyd and saw nothing, so assumed the medico was still at work on his sparring partner. 

Shaking his head as the next round started, his eyes were brought back by the sounds of shoes bouncing on the mat and settled himself for more entertainment. It soon seemed like the Deputy was operating somewhat out of her depth in the boxing ring and frank crow called good when the Andorian's training took over for an illegal strike.  The pilot didn't look as good with all the blood streaming down his nose. The engineer snorted as the referee made the necessary deduction in points and Frank was sure the fight had just gotten more interesting as Ida had exposed her inexperience at this sort of match, and he was sure this was going to weigh on the Deputy for the rest of the fight, affecting her fighting style.  There were some clean hits in the last two rounds, but Frank was quite sure that he did not want to fight Ida in her domain.  She'd had to think through her reactions instead of going on instinct and that had slowed her down.  What would happen to any opponent when she was left to her own devices in combat were amply demonstrated as the engineer winced at the resounding clang of the pilot being hit in the head before he fell to the ground. 

"Victory by disqualification of his opponent: Logaaaaaaaaaaaaan Haaaaaale!" the referee declared and the engineer clapped good natrudley as the two fighters exited with only physical bruises.  It had been an exciting fight if unorthodox, and Frank shook his head in disbelief once more.  Movement caught the engineer's attention and his blue eyes turned to the source as Enyd gingerly stepped out of the privacy screen with Zark in tow and stiffly made her way over holodeck exit.  Zark watched the woman go and seemed pensive before turning her head back towards the ring and surveying the scene.  The Andorian's blue green eyes locked with the engineer's blue ones and blue shoulder gave a shrug before a thumbs up was flashed in his direction and Frank nodded back before jerking his head towards the pilot and laughed at the woman's reaction.  The medico looked in the direction he indicated and sighed as she looked heaven ward in a universal sign of why me? as her shoulders visibly slumped and once again ran over to the pilot to begin fussing over him.

A boisterous call drew his attention and Frank smiled as he spotted the gathering of pilots with one very excited one in the bunch.  As he surveyed the crew, he noticed one in particular and a smile broke over his face as he made his way back to the bar first.  "Four Lagavulins please."  The bartender produced the requested drinks on a tray and the big engineer drained the dregs of his ale before snagging the tray of glasses and heading towards Reggie Suder's crowd and depositing the glass in the middle of the table.  "Reggie!  Good to see you here.  I say we've had a bit of spectacle so far.  The bossy doctor trying to treat one of your pilots over there is working way harder than she really should.  No sense of fun in her, but definitely knows her way around fixing a body.  Just saw Madsen walk out of here under her own power."  Looking at the two other people sharing the table with Reggie, Frank smiled at the two in welcome.  "Well ladies, I don't believe we've been introduced.  Frank Arnold, Chief Engineer, and this round's on me."  Frank handed out glasses of the ridiculously peaty scotch to the pilots and held up his glass in welcome to all.

[Lt (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark) | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy]

As the combat medic caught up to the weary but otherwise good spirited pilot, she just managed to run around him and a nominal superior of hers.  Since he seemed to be standing mostly fine and wasn't holding on to too much, the medico figured he would just have some bruising and looked at his face.  She knew it was rude, but her medical instincts had taken over and blue hands hands shot out, grabbing Logan Hale's head and firmly turning it towards her as she began to examine the pilot before releasing his head and whipping out her tricorder to scan him.  When she got the results, she shot both contestants a mild look.  Since she didn't know the human male too well, Zark addressed the Deputy first. "Ma'am, it could have been much worse, but he's got a bit of swelling starting under his metal plate.  All in all, a textbook strike to the head. Dead centre of mass I would say."  Turning back to the pilot, she gave him a crooked smile before giving her medical opinion.  "Mr.Hale, I'm XamotZark zh’Ptrell, or Zark.  I'm the ship's combat medic, and nice to meet you. Now, I'm going to give you an injection to bring the swelling in your head under control. You should be back to Eh-okay in 30 minutes or so.  In that time, no alcohol or synthehol or you'll wish the Deputy here had hit you in the head much harder.  I'm also gonna fix your nose properly.  Holograms are okay, but never as good as the real thing.  You're going to want to sit down for this."

Pulling out a hypospray, the combat medic jabbed the pilot in the side of the neck before grabbing a couple of medicine laced swabs. "Now, I'm going to yank on your nose on the count of three.  One, Two, Three.." and strong hands yanked eliciting a bit of a crunch.  Swabs rapidly followed and Zark silently sighed as she applied her medical skills once more making broken parts fixed and flawless once more.

[(https://uss-theurgy.com/w/images/2/28/M_w-o2.png) Lt. JG Logan Hale, callsign "Wraith" (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Logan_Hale,_callsign_"Wraith") | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @BipSpoon @Tae @Stegro88 @Auctor Lucan @P.C. Haring @Ellen Fitz @ob2lander961 @Dumedion @RyeTanker
[Show/Hide]"It's cool. No hard feelings." Logan replied to Ida's question, pleased that she accepted his invitation. He accompanied her to the bar and ordered her the desired Andorian ale and himself a beer of German origin. The holographic bartender performed some rehearsed hand movements and replicated both drinks underneath the bar. It almost looked like he was actually drawing a beer for the pilot and pouring the Andorian ale from a curved, bulbous bottle. With deft fingers, he placed the two full glasses on the counter. Logan handed Ida the glass of ale and himself the beer. He then resumed the conversation. "Yeah, I'm glad about that too, to be honest, and please don't feel bad. Things can't always work out."

They picked their way through the crowd to get to a free table. "Nonetheless, I thought that was a good..." The pilot didn't get a chance to finish as another blue figure already shifted into his field of vision and blue, cold hands waved in his face. His head was tossed rather ungently to the left or right. "Hey!" he cried out, startled as the strange Andorian let go of him. "What the..." She held a tricorder in his face. This time it was a modern model. Then she exchanged a few quick words with Ida.

"Can someone explain to me..." again he was cut off. The rude blue woman gave him a cocky smile before finally introducing herself and handing him a hyposray. She babbled something about a swelling in his head, but the only thing that really swelled was his anger. They got his beer out of his hand, but any complaining didn't help. With a hiss, the drug was injected. Logan wasn't even listening anymore when a sickening crack sounded as Zark pointed his nose.

"Ow!" roared Logan. "Damn you don't do that on three. Always on two or even one! Never on three!" Logan was pissed, to say the least. He lamented for a few more moments about how you never do a thing on three because it always gave the patient a chance to seize up. But finally, he focused on his beer again and the fact that he couldn't have any alcohol for the next thirty minutes. He passed the glass to Zark. "Well, at least drink the beer! It doesn't have to go bad." Then hissed a quiet, "Thanks I guess."

Logan held his nose and only now noticed Ida's amused looks. "Argh... Damn! That really hurt..."

[ Lt. ThanIda zh'Wann (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=ThanIda_zh%27Wann) | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nero 
[Show/Hide]After making their way to the table, the Andorian Ale in hand, Ida had seated herself and listened as the pinkskin pilot began to talk. Evidently, there were no hard feelings, and she was - however much risk she had put him in with her being so unaccustomed to the rules of the match - glad that he wasn't seriously hurt. Leaning back in her chair, she raked a few tresses of white hair back from her eyes, and sipped her drink. After the fight, her perspiration had left a soft sheen on her blue skin, catching the lights of the holo-program, and she wouldn't have minded a shower. The adrenaline had yet to thin in her cobalt blood, and she quite enjoyed the feeling the spar had left her in - any pending bruises aside. All in all, despite the loss and the shame over not being able to adhere to the rules, she had quite enjoyed herself. She had needed to let off some steam given all that she'd been through since they left Aldea.

The pinkskin was, however, interrupted by one of Ida's subordinates in the Security Department. Zark, the combat medic, clearly didn't trust the skills of the hologram, and went about treating Logan right there by the table. The scene rather amused Ida, smiling as she did where she at and sipped at her drink, and the reaction of the pilot caused her to chuckle and shake her head. At Zark's comment about the results of the blow to the pinkskin's head plating, Ida jested, shrugging with one shoulder in a gesture of mock justification. "By his word, before the fight, there wasn't anything to salvage in that head anyway."

Logan, of course, was rather mortified by the development, not liking the impromptu treatment one bit. Whether or not that was primarily due to being forbidden his drink or not was hard to tell, but at least he suggested that Zark would join them and imbibe the human drink. This beer that he had replicated and that, in Ida's regard, looked rather vile. Which, of course, made it all that more amusing.

"Aye, XamotZark zh’Ptrell, why don't you sit down and join us. The least you can do is to relieve this Lone Wolf of his drink and enjoy it in his stead," she said with a small grin, quite enjoying the development and certainly not minding the company of the other Andorian. "It can't be that bad."

Her reservations when it came to her own people were understandable, given her past, but this was a fellow zhen, and she had nothing in particular against those of her own biological gender.

[(https://uss-theurgy.com/w/images/2/28/M_w-o2.png) Lt. JG Logan Hale, callsign "Wraith" (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Logan_Hale,_callsign_"Wraith") | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @BipSpoon @Tae @Stegro88 @Auctor Lucan @P.C. Haring @Ellen Fitz @ob2lander961 @Dumedion @RyeTanker
[Show/Hide]"Oh, it's definitely not that bad," Logan said, playfully shaken, as Ida accused the beer of having a questionable taste. The cool glass, pearly yellow and the snow-white head. Logan could literally taste the bitter liquid. It pained him all the more that he would be denied this liquid gold. He pointed again to the empty seat at their table and again offered Zark to join them. He smiled. Logan appreciated what she was doing for him and dragging out this injury could have had cruel consequences for him. Not to mention that the Theurgy would then be missing one more ace pilot.

The pilot raised his hand and beckoned one of the holographic waitresses to join him. If he couldn't drink real beer, he would at least order a cool substitute for it. When the woman arrived, he simply ordered a non-alcoholic copy of his original drink.
"And isotonic, please."
"Sure." the waitress confirmed.

"Besides, it's like the deputy said," Logan picked up on his former opponent's statement with a smile. "There's not much left to break." He softly knocked himself on the implant, which, he had to admit to himself, was still very unfamiliar. With his jokes about it, he tried to normalize it to himself and others. It helped others not to perceive him necessarily differently than before. But he still had a hard time getting used to the sight. Logan shook his head, shooing away the thoughts that were about to rise inside him. His smile returned at the same time as the waitress brought him the non-alcoholic, isotonic beer.
"Fräulein Doctor, may I?"

[Lt (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark) | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy]

@BipSpoon @Auctor Lucan @Nero @Tae @Ellen Fitz @ob2lander961 @Dumedion @P.C. Haring

"Danke Herr Hale, Frau zh'Wann." Zark replied immediately without thought as she planted her shapely posterior into the indicated chair with some relief.  So far there had been lots of fighting, and in many cases, a goodly amount of repair work being done.  The combat medic's ear was giving warning signs that the night wasn't quite over yet, but as long as the breakage was kept to the current levels, she should be able to manage.  Picking up the glass, she gave the Lone Wolf a wan smile and clinked his now abandoned glass to the newly arrived non-alcoholic version before doing the same to the Deputy.  Tilting the sweating glass to her blue lips, the quenching relief rolled over her tongue and down her throat.  A well balanced medley of bitter, cereals, and hoppiness pervaded her taste buds.  The moment was over suddenly as Zark finished her sip and smiled in appreciation at Logan Hale's choice of beverage.  "Not quite the same as an Oktoberfest, but it still goes down quite nicely.  Thank you Mr. Hale."

Still there was something missing, and Zark signalled a waitress over.  "Uhmmmmm, can I get a sausage platter with a basket of pretzels please?"  The waitress nodded and smiled before running off to collect the food items.  Zark knew she was somewhat unusual in terms of her food taste, but she appreciated the right food going with the right drink.  It was just one of those things that clicked well for her, and since they were all technically on leave, it was a good chance to enjoy the variety while she could. Turning to her fellow Zhen, Zark gave her trademark toothy smile. "I usually spent the academy breaks on Earth, so I picked up a lot of the culture as I went.  My bagpipe teacher even said I was a Celt that had been born on the wrong planet."   Exposed blue shoulders shrugged at the silliness of the statement.

Holographic service was quick and the waitress placed a paddle shaped wooden board with six varieties of sausage, whole grain mustard, and a weaved wooden basket with big bready pretzels, and several small dishes with cutlery in the middle of the table.  Zark smiled in delight and clapped her hands together before splitting the dishes and cutlery.  "Help yourselves." and she immediately speared a few pieces of sausage onto her plate before spooning out some mustard and snagging a pretzel.  With a plate properly assembled, Zark dipped a piece of meat into the mustard pile and dropped it in her mouth before chewing.  Hunger temporarily sated after swallowing, the medico decided to let the Lone Wolf know how lucky he'd really been. "I think the Deputy realized what she was doing at the last second and pulled the strike.  If she had gone full out on you, I'd either be scraping metal and brains off the ring, or more likely you and I would be in sickbay with you preparing to go into surgery and me explaining why you had to go into surgery in the first place." Zark shrugged again.  "Meh. No one really got too hurt, so all's well that ends well.  Y'all oughta eat ya know.  We oughta enjoy being here today."

As Zark nibbled on her pretzel, her ears perked up and her antennae turned towards a table where the Chief Engineer was standing.  Her eyes focused on the table where he was having drinks with several women, and a platinum eyebrow rose in the Vulcan style as she spotted Via being herself and had to wonder what mayhem would ensue.

[Ens. Talia Al-Ibrahim | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy] Attn: @ob2lander961 @RyeTanker @P.C. Haring (aaand everyone else)

Having barely made her own approach to Suder before being followed up by the severely intoxicated and confusing fellow pilot, Talia had been forced to switch her attention to the petite brunette with the colorful mouth, frowning in confusion at her slurred and unpredictable speech patterns.

She's so wasted I need a translator, she smirked with amusement as she shook her head subtly. Pilots were a rowdy bunch by nature – coming from all types of backgrounds – so she didn’t judge the girl for blowing off steam; that didn’t mean she'd humor her either. Just be nice, or try to, she told herself.

Thankfully she didn’t have to engage the girl directly as she rambled on about her youthful forays of violence to Suder, which Talia couldn’t really decode as truth or drunken boasting. Perhaps a bit of both, she lifted a shoulder, dismissing it as irrelevant. People were different creatures while intoxicated – her father had taught her that. Talia just buried her fists in the pockets of her hoodie and took in the crowd, wondering when her name would be called to fight. She noticed the previous fighters and a few more historically famous holograms as she waited, listening to the background noise of chatter and music.

Then the burly form of the bearded fighter from the previous match approached with drinks, which he sat upon the table before them; Talia offered him a shy smile and a quick nod in greeting, shifting her weight to one leg in her loose sweats as she pulled the sleeves of her white hoodie up to her elbows. Getting warm in here, she huffed the dark bangs from her face, not used to being around so many people.

After picking up a glass in response to his toast, she took a quick sniff. “Thanks, Frank,” she murmured, after taking a sip. Scotch, she groaned inside, but swallowed. “I’m Shadow,” she coughed slightly as the liquid burned her throat. “Freshly thawed addition to the Wolves. This is…”, her voice trailed off as she gestured to the inebriated brunette across from her. “What is your name again,” her eyebrows met in confusion, as she honestly couldn’t remember the girl saying it – or make heads or tails of much else she rambled on about – since she hadn’t really been listening.

[ Lt. ThanIda zh'Wann (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=ThanIda_zh%27Wann) | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nero @RyeTanker 
[Show/Hide]While Zark definitely seemed to enjoy the Earth beverage, Ida knew well enough that she didn't, having spent years on Earth as well during her time in Starfleet Academy. Indeed, the Combat Medic even seemed to have picked up one of the less common languages of Earth, since she and the pilot exchanged a couple of phrases that the UT didn't quite catch for Ida. As if that wasn't impressive enough, culturally speaking, her fellow zhen even knew about some festival, which Ida vaguely recalled originating from the part of Earth known as 'Europe'.

"Shelat," she said with a raised eyebrow and a chuckle, having returned the toast, "now I feel like an uncultured klahz."

The conversation shifted back to the end of the fight, in which Zark believed that Ida had pulled her strike short, and how that was the only reason the Lone Wolf was still standing. That may have been the case, with an actual fight having been fought quite differently, but Ida didn't find it an excuse for her lack of overall restraint. She cleared her throat and felt like she ought to add a comment on it all, even though she wasn't making any excuses for what she'd done. "If anything, I have come to understand that I need to practice this manner of fighting, where there are rules and limits."

She shrugged with one bare shoulder, looking at her blue ale. "Over the course of the past six months, I have been involved in too many skirmishes where my life and the lives of the crew hung in the balance, so the conditions of this match was something I've grown unfamiliar with. Hand-to-hand combat is something I learned in the Andorian Guard, and further honed in Security, but this long mission has forced me to embed all those teachings into my instincts, so that I have them readily available at a moment's notice."

Looking up with a lopsided smile, Ida took a deep breath. "I also admit that I am a bit on edge due to the last couple of missions and tasks that I've dealt with, and I apologise that you ended up a victim of it all, Logan Hale. My intention in coming here was to take that edge off my demeanour, but I had no intention of breaking the rules or hurting you as much as I did in the process. My apologies, once more." After a moment of thought, introspection, Ida raised her glass in another toast. "We're still here, nonetheless. Courage is fear when it has said its prayers. To being alive, despite the odds."

Drinking her ale, Ida then reached for a pretzel... politely nibbling one even though it wasn't kind to her palate.

---

OOC:
Shelat = Shit
klahz = Andorian animal known for its careless way of moving

[(https://uss-theurgy.com/w/images/archive/f/fb/20160814014820%21W-o1.png) Ens. Via "DixeBee" Wix (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Via_Wix) | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Auctor Lucan @P.C. Haring @BipSpoon @Stegro99 @RyeTanker @Ellen Fitz @uytrereee @Nero @Dumedion
[Show/Hide]
"Uhhh...." Via sat there for a good couple of seconds trying to remember her name. She was quite drunk now and it was only going to get worse as the evening progressed. "Via...Via Wix...oh, well my ass plays her on a forum-based roleplay server." Via gave a blank look and then laughed.

"Shut your asses up, I am jokin' I ain't into that nerd shit. My name is Via though." Looking at Talia, Via took a sip of her tequila and then looked at Frank. She went back and forth several times before looking at Reggie. Via bit her lip, took a glass of scotch that Frank ordered for them, refiled her tequila with it, swished it around, and took a massive swig, wincing as the mixture burned her throat and insides. She placed her drink on the table and then looked at Frank and Talia once more...she finally spoke.

"Ok! H-Hear my ass out. I've been thinkin' for a while now. Done some of that tactical anal-sis-anal somethin' I don't fuckin' know, and I think...hear me out- shhhh." She took another swig of her drink.

"I think...." she chuckled before burping grossly.

"I THINK!!" she hiccup.

"FUCKIN! Fuck me...I THINK your asses are brother and sister." Via said smirking, feeling proud of herself making a drunken, probably false, observation.

"Oh shit, my bad...grandpa and granddaughter." she looked at Talia. "I-I mean…fuccck, both your asses look buff as shitttt! Probably drinkin' some of that nasty get strong quick Ferengi scam that's been goin' around…uhhh ‘Buffoo’. Shit I mean, if you got bars of latinum to waste might as well put them on the table and hand them over to me, especially after I beat your ass in that ring over there and our old ass grandpa gotta take your ass back to sickbay`` She let out a loud burp again.

Via knew what she was doing, even drunk she said she wanted a fight so she was going to get one. She didn’t care if she won or lost just that she had a bunch of fun and got to stretch her legs a bit…but most likely she was going to lose. The pilot was fit enough mostly due to genetics, but she was nothing compared to Talia whom she just made the offer to. Via laughed and then rubbed her head. “Wait…whos’s your ass again?” she asked Talia

[ Ens. Talia Al-Ibrahim | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @ob2lander961 @RyeTanker

This is why I never go out, Talia sighed to herself, almost immediately regretting her decision to engage the drunk. As…Veuuh? Vauuuh? Viaah? Whatever her name was fumbled through introducing herself, then somehow came up with the idea that Talia and Frank were related – Talia’s face went from bored indulgence to confusion to rolling her eyes as she shook her head in disbelief as all present shared confused chuckles. But calling her out like that drained what little amusement she felt at all – because now she was hemmed in with two options.

She could just walk away and chalk the whole thing up to booze and leave it at that; or engage, knock the senseless girl out, and carry her ass back to her room. Each had consequences that she wasn’t thrilled about. She couldn’t stand the thought of appearing weak, yet she had no desire to fight someone who could barely fight gravity. She mulled all this over as she took another sip of scotch – then reached a decision.

The hell is wrong with her, she wondered, narrowing her eyes at Via, brows knit as she frowned. Oh wait - she’s drunk. Well, there was no use reminding Via who she was; the girl was so lit she probably wouldn’t remember anyway. Why does this shit always happen to me? Because I lift? What the fuck.

Talia simply downed the rest of her scotch then crossed her arms as she shifted her weight to one leg, turning her head slightly to quietly address Frank. “This is Via,” she shrugged, “apparently she wants to fight me,” she said flatly, her eyes and tone revealing to him how little she was concerned about actually fighting her. “And you just got yourself a new nickname, Gramps. Congratulations," she smiled thinly.

Not exactly what I had in mind when I walked in here, she sighed again, before she continued, loud enough to be heard over the music and crowd. “If by some miracle,” she rolled her head and eyes back to the drunk, “you manage to stumble your bony ass in that ring,” she smiled, “I’ll do everyone a favor and put you to sleep. You could use a nap,” she finished, dropping her arms to unzip her hoodie, pulling it from her body, leaving her in just her sweatpants and sports bra. Dropping it into her gym bag, she kicked it over to Frank. “Mind keeping an eye on this,” she arched a brow at him with a smirk as she reached up to retie her hair in a loose ponytail, rolling her eyes again after glancing at Via. “I’ll buy you a round in a minute or two.”

If she even lasts that long.

Ready to get the task over with, she turned back to Via. “Oi, drunkems,” she barked, pounding the table to get her attention – rattling the empty glasses and bottles. “Yallah,” she gestured to the ring, then waited to see if she'd actually make it. "That means let's go," she clarified slowly, as if to a child, leaning towards Via with her hands on her hips.

Maybe it was the scotch. Maybe it was the anticipation for putting the loudmouth on her ass. Maybe it was just the thrill of doing something new. Whatever it was, despite how much she didn’t like the circumstances, Talia couldn’t keep the smirk off her face.

OOC: AL, if you have a humor award, just give it to Obby already :)

[ Lieutenant Frank Arnold | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy]

@P.C. Haring @ob2lander961 @Dumedion

Frank had seen plenty of characters in his time, and any organization generated it's share.  Sometimes, they'd been steeped in sin for so long, one wondered how they were still in uniform.  Other times, like now, it looked like they had the makings of one and only time would tell how they turned out.  The smaller tequila smashing woman looked to be more of the latter variety as she boisterously declared nonsense left and right, much to the bearded man's amusement. Good to know my ass is still in good shape, even after all the sitting around I do.  Grandpa and grandaughter??  That's a new one. The Chief Engineer merely smiled as he took another sip of his scotch and he looked at his co-misidentified victim.  Talia didn't seem to take it too well as she downed her scotch quickly, always an impressive feat with something this peaty, and Frank felt his eyebrows rise in response.

Frank snorted out a chuckle as Talia stripped and kicked a gym bag that she wanted him to watch.  He took another sip and shrugged before nodding.   As the muscular pilot aggressively tried to draw the drunken pilot's attention, the engineer had to bring his glass to his lips to cover a smile.  Conventional wisdom suggested , what was her name, right, Via was going to get the pulp beaten out of her.  Blotto drunk on Tequila and Scotch, and barely able to stand up, but surprises could occur, so Frank held his counsel and kept an eye on the two. 

The Chief Engineer kept his eyes on the general direction of the ring as he spoke to Reggie.  "Interesting crew you got here.  I'm guessing a couple of the new pilots that need to have their differences worked out, though this one" the index finger from his glass hand pointed at the boisterous Via "seems to be having an amazing time.  Hard to tell what she'll do since she's more plastered than anyone I've seen in a while." Another longer sip as he worked the flavours of the Scotich in his mouth.  "Seems like she's got some moving to do towards the ring before they start slugging away at each other, so how's life been treating you Reggie?  Much happier to be back in the cockpit?"

[Reggie Suder | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy ] attn: @ob2lander961‍  @ry‍  @Dumedion‍ 

Reggie had been content to watch the proceedings from the background.  For all the time she'd spent at the front of the pack drawing attention to herself to past few days, she was more than happy to  take a back seat and spectate this one.  And what she'd seen had not failed to entertain. her. 

She watched the fight between Arnold and Enyd, as well as the one between Wraith and zh'Wann to say nothing about the verbal sparring between Shadow and DixieBee some of which came at Frank's expense as DixieBee seemed to be drawing comparisons between Shadow and Franks respective Asses.

Reggie chuckled to herself at Franks comment and took a drag on her cigar .  "Something like that, I suppose," she replied to Frank.  "I don't know Al-Ibrahim all that well yet, but Via flies the four slot on my wing.  Had a training run with her this morning.  She's going to be a credit to the squad, both in an out of the cockpit."

She reflected on that for a moment, enjoying just how much of the 'work hard play hard' attitude she'd once had herself was apparent in Via.  Sure that attitude still existed for Reggie, but the years and, yes, her age had tempered some of that energy.  To a certain extent it reinvigorated her to see the unyielding, potentially naïve energy of youth back on her wing.  But at the same time, Reggie could only how that when...not if...Via had that experience...that one experience that changed everything, that the young woman wouldn't crash and burn.

"I have to say it's damn good to be back in the cockpit. "

She took a sip of her own drink. 

"Hey listen, I wanted to thank you again for earlier today.  I," she let out a sigh, "I needed that conversation.  Far more than I realized."

[Lt (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark) | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy]

@Nero @Auctor Lucan

Zark's attention was brought back to zh'Wann and the one Zhen looked at her fellow Zhen as she munched away on a piece of Nürnberger and sipped more beer before sighing and signalling the waitress over again, ordering a hari for her boss.  "Good thing we have replicators or I'd be scolding you for wasting food."  Zark told zh'Wann mock tartly before adding a belated 'Sir' to the end.  The junior officer took another sip of beer as she regarded the number 2 security woman and found a significant number of similarities though the stress of being on the run had definitely taken it's toll by the seemingly permanent furrowed look the Deputy had on her face.  Waaaay too much stress. Zark's fork began twirl in a narrow circle in the air as she spoke.  "Sir, if you don't mind me saying, I know there's different methods of blowing off steam, and beating the stuffing out of something is definitely one way to do it.  But with Mr.hale here as an example, there's only so many times you can do that before either you or someone you know or care about gets hurt in the process.  In the end, while relieving, it's not the only method to find some relaxation to take the edge off." 

Zark's mind went over several different possibilities quickly before she began speaking again.  "If you really want a free for all, then you and I could square off, not today but definitely back in the gym of the security centre.  I think people are going to be placing bets on who will come out on top of that one." The fork came down and started gently tapping on the plate as a grin broke out over the prospect of that competition.  "Otherwise, there's always the holodeck for those nice little spas along Lake Thalassa, or the ones in the caves of the Weyzhiss Mountains.  Maybe a nice massage and some time in the hot springs?"  The medic's smile continued to spread as she thought more about actually recreating those places with some of the wonderful restaurants.  Zark's thoughts reversed as she sighed, her thoughts wandered into how long it would be before she would be able to go home and experience those delights once more, but she quickly pushed those thoughts aside as a promise to herself to survive this confrontation and experience those wondrous locales in person.

Zark shook her head as her attention was brought back to the present.  A very muscular pilot made her way over to the ring after yelling at Via and Zark had to wonder what the fun yet foul mouthed pilot had gotten herself into though she didn't quite seem to be in a rush to get there.  The medic took another sip of beer as she turned her smiling attention to Logan.  "What do you think Logan?  What do you do to relax and what would you recommend the Deputy here try out?"

---

hari = Andorian Flatbread

[(https://uss-theurgy.com/w/images/2/28/M_w-o2.png) Lt. JG Logan Hale, callsign "Wraith" (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Logan_Hale,_callsign_"Wraith") | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @BipSpoon @Tae @Stegro88 @Auctor Lucan @P.C. Haring @Ellen Fitz @ob2lander961 @Dumedion @RyeTanker
[Show/Hide]Logan also raised his glass and toasted Ida's words. He had listened patiently and somewhat thoughtfully to her remarks. The pilot remembered an old saying that his father had once given him: 'He who has only a hammer sees only the nail in everything.'
Ida apologized to him, and Logan's eyebrows furrowed in amazement. Logan became Ida's outlet for her pent-up anger and frustration that had been building up lately. There was nothing to sugarcoat. He had taken quite a beating, and if it hadn't been for Zark, he probably would had to spent a night or two in the infirmary. Nevertheless, Logan felt no anger or even rage towards the Andorian. Logan also tried to escape his demons. Today, he had done quite well. The distraction and the beating he had taken were doing him good in an absurd way. The human leaned back in his chair.
"Apology accepted."

Logan smiled as Zark reprimanded her boss for wastefulness and joined in ordering a hari. "I think it's fair if I at least have a taste."
Zark explained to the Deputy Chief of Security why it was important to get a proper rest and that there were plenty of opportunities aboard the ship to do so. She also offered herself as a sparring partner and talked about how there was surely someone who would bet on the outcome of this fight. Logan would and he was already calculating the various odds and quickly found a favorite on which he would bet his money, or rather his hard-earned replicator rations. In his mind's eye, he already saw himself as the promoter for the fight and was already organizing the first celebrity guests. Logan wondered if he could manage to get Nanietta Bacco personally to attend this historic fight. That would be a thing, with that he could eclipse the fight itself. No, he shouldn't be so bold as to steal the show from the two of them. After all, he would still have to work with both of them later, and Logan was a bit more attached to his life than to the possible fame he could reap with such an action, after all. Although...

The waitress brought the flatbread and Zark asked Logan how he liked to spend his time relaxing. Logan shrugged his shoulders and tore off a piece of the bread. For a moment, he considered. "To relax, I like to meet friends for a beer or two and stretch my legs," he smiled as he leaned back in his chair once again and took another sip of his beer. "But mountain biking is a classy pastime too, right..." An idea occurred to him. "Ida, have you ever flown in a fighter?"

[ Lt. ThanIda zh'Wann (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=ThanIda_zh%27Wann) | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nero @RyeTanker 
[Show/Hide]After inclining her head, in both gratitude and acknowledgement towards Logan's acceptance of her apology, Ida turned her head towards the Combat Medic to hear her suggestions on alternative means to take the edge off post-missions. She found it a bit counter-intuitive that Zark suggested she'd beat the crap out of her, merely on the premise that it might be a more even fight, when she had - in the breath prior to that - implied that there might be better ways to achieve the same kind of release. Ida just chuckled, though, and sipped her drink. The holodeck sounded like a more prudent option, and one she had already utilised.

"I do utilise the holodeck from time to time, for sparring different kinds of species and to hone my skills with and without a phaser," she admitted, and tilted her head a bit thinking about the other kind of distractions Zark suggested. "As for spas... Well, I didn't have to use the holodeck to recuperate during our shore leave at Aldea. I think that as exiled as I may be from my Keth back home, my fondness for the cold still outweighs my acceptance of heat. For Andorians, hot baths are an... acquired taste, and not one I have grown fond of. I never even took a dip in the hot springs of Theta Erudani IV when the Theurgy hid there for repairs - after the first battle with the Calamity - even when most of the crews of this ship as well as the Harbinger enjoyed it. Shelat, they even built a floating bar there, so that the crews might enjoy R&R between repair shifts."

Oh, she had visited the hot springs, but never stepped inside them. Instead, she remembered her little... rendezvous with Edena Rez - the former host and First Officer.

That was when Hale broke her train of thought with a question about having flown in a warp fighter, and her antennae rose.

"Oh, no, I think that is as far from my comfort zone as I could possibly get," she said with a quiet laugh, shaking her head, "I mean, trapped inside a small hull? With just some see-through canopy between me and certain death? Putting my life into the hands of a Lone Wolf, who is out there specifically to challenge the odds in ways that a large starship can't, and shouldn't, for sake of a tactical edge? Being at the mercy of some daredevil in the pilot seat who gets a thrill out of defying death? How do you reckon that would be as relaxing as a day at a spa at Lake Thalassa? No, I think you and I - Hale - have vastly differing opinions on the nature of recuperation. Thank you, nonetheless."

Taking another sip from her drink, she did elaborate on her other uses of her spare time. "I paint... when I am visit the holodeck. I have since I was little. I have a whole gallery of holo-paintings, and even more pieces in m quarters. I find relaxation in sketch work and stencils, and when the mood strikes me, I put oil to canvas. I channel my emotions into my artwork, and it has sustained me for these past six months when other diversions may have failed me. So," she said and glanced Zark's way, "I have other means to 'expel my demons', as they pinkskins tended to say in the Academy. Tonight... was a welcome diversion of a more... primal nature. Yet what about you two?"

She leaned forward, drink in hand and white eyebrows raised. "How do you guys prefer to take the edge off?"

[Lt (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark) | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy]    @Nero @Auctor Lucan

Blue green eyes turned back to the Lone Wolf "I'm gonna have to agree with Deputy on the flying the fighter.  I have too many people shooting at me while wearing armour of some sort.  Doesn't always work and there's little armour on a fighter as it zips around at too ridiculous speeds for me to find the whole notion 'exciting'.  I'll leave that to you pilot dare devils.  Exposed blue shoulders shrugged.   "Going down on a shuttle to Qo'nos was unpleasant as is and I was a passenger that time as well." Zark shuddered, not entirely theatrically at recalling that experience.

Looking to get back to happier circumstances, Zark smiled at zh'Wann and smiled at the suggestion that hot springs were an acquired taste for Andorians since she had to agree with that assessment.  "I think you missed out before you had to leave home though." The medic turned to the pilot as she twirled her clean fork around in her fingers.  "I'm wondering if the deputy likes it colder than most Andorians and we do like it cold.  You see, at Lake Thalassa, the water is supposed to have restorative properties"  The medic shrugged again as she'd read the literature on it and found the idea doubtful. " But they heat pools of lake water to the point where most species consider the waters be abooouuut room temperature I think is the term, so not bad for us."  Zark waved the fork between herself and zh'Wann for clarification before she her head turned back to her boss.  "There's a portion of the Weyzhiss Mountains that's high up, open air really, where it's just warm enough to get a balance of heat from below, and cap melt running into the pools.  Nature at it's finest!"  Zark happily declared before her face turned more serious.  "Anyway, if pools of warm slash hot water aren't your thing, there's always the massage rooms."  Zark smiled once more as she let the hedonist aspect of her personality surface. "There are some fine examples of handwork locked away in the computer, and if you prefer a real person, I did learn a thing or two at nursing school." The medic waggled her fingers at zh'Wann for emphasis as a smile split her face and her antennae pointed generally at each other. "It would be a purely therapeutic treatment of course."

The medico tapped her chin with the bottom of the fork for a minute as she considered what were her other recreational activities that she did for relaxation.  "Well, where you paint, I play music, usually the bagpipes, but if I want something softer, it's the highland flute.  Zark turned to Hale for a moment as the antennae made a more definite movement to point at each other.  "I'm strange that way, I know. Uhmmmmmm then there's hockey and volleyball, theeeeennnn cooking, or just food in general.  Terrible baker though.  I think it's because I dislike following recipes to the letter."  The medic shrugged as she speared another piece of sausage and washed it down with more beer.

[(https://uss-theurgy.com/w/images/2/28/M_w-o2.png) Lt. JG Logan Hale, callsign "Wraith" (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Logan_Hale,_callsign_"Wraith") | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @BipSpoon @Tae @Stegro88 @Auctor Lucan @P.C. Haring @Ellen Fitz @ob2lander961 @Dumedion @RyeTanker
[Show/Hide]"Should you ever change your mind...the offer stands."
The pilot grinned. He was definitely one of the aforementioned folks. But it wasn't all adrenaline and thrills. Logan was a good pilot. Of that, he was sure. Certainly, he was sure he was the best here aboard the ship. After all, he was last listed as number four in the rankings, and he flew alongside two of the three pilots listed ahead of him. That meant there was only one more out there in the fleet who might be a little better than him, but as soon as the rankings would be updated, he would have made it to the top spot. As far as flying went, no one could hold a candle to him anytime soon. Granted, the pilots he was currently flying alongside were good, but no one came close to Liliana's class.

Logan winced when the Combat Medic described how cold the water in the pools on Andoria actually was. Overall, though, XamotZark zh'Ptrell's description sounded quite inviting and like a wonderful spa resort. For those who preferred colder temperatures and the snow, it was certainly a pleasant resort. It sounded like a colder copy of Risa, except everywhere you looked you saw mountains and snow instead of sand and sea.

"I think I'll try those massage programs when I get a chance." Logan let his right shoulder gyrate in the joint. "A little relaxation can't hurt." For a moment, Logan thought he had misheard Zark talk about how she liked to play music, playing the bagpipes or the Highland flute. It was a very strange combination and that someone alien, of all people, was interested in these instruments amused him.
"I'm not a baker or a cook nor a musician.” Logan said. “Although I play some guitar and I'm general interested in music from the end of the twentieth century I wouldn't depict me as a musician.” A slight smile showed on his face. “What I can always switch off to, though..." he now took back to the question Ida had asked. "Is mountain biking. I love to race my bike along the hills and forests of Central Europe or in the gusts on Risa. It challenges the whole body, you're constantly on the move, and you learn to orient yourself."
There were few things the pilot was as passionate about as a hobby as mountain biking. "In the evenings, when you come home after a demanding tour, the days then end in a cool beer." He raised his glass and toasted the two blue-skinned women.

"What do you gals think? Who's going to win the next fight?"

[ Lt. ThanIda zh'Wann (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=ThanIda_zh%27Wann) | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nero @RyeTanker 
[Show/Hide]Listening to the other Andorian speaking of her preferences in regard to bathing temperatures, Ida would take her word for it. She had no experience with the places she spoke of, but she did know she much preferred the cold rather than the nigh-boiling temperatures that pinkskins liked.

"Anyway, if pools of warm slash hot water aren't your thing, there's always the massage rooms. There are some fine examples of handwork locked away in the computer, and if you prefer a real person, I did learn a thing or two at nursing school. It would be a purely therapeutic treatment of course."

The invite from the Combat Medic, accompanied with a smile and a waggled finger at her, had Ida smile back and raise both an eyebrow and an antenna. As opposed to what, she thought, a purely non-therapeutic massage? My my, zh’Ptrell... Ida had no idea if the other Andorian had opened the door to something off-regs with her clarification, since why would she even have to make the distinction in the first place? Unless, of course, the other woman at the table had been thinking precisely what her words may have insinuated with the assertion, rather than saying naught of what said massage may have entailed.

"Thank you for letting the offer stand, Logan Hale," she said in regard to the idea of getting into a warp fighter with him, and then directed herself at Zark, "but between the two, I would much rather have a massage if the purpose is relaxation. The holographic kind or not, I am fairly sure I have knots as hard as my endoskeleton at this point."

She then listened to Hale speaking of 'mountain biking', and she believed - if she were to judge the description - that it was just another form of daredevil exploits, merely sans the warp fighter. "Why am I not even remotely surprised?" she asked rhetorically with a small chuckle, before turning to look at the ring. With other bodies in the way, she couldn't quite make out the fight from where she was seated, having to turn around completely in her chair if she would have any chance of seeing anything of what was happening.

"No idea, but I know I ought to be retiring for the evening," she said, and finished her drink. She set it down on the table and stood up, the lights catching the residual sweat on her blue skin. "Thank you both for the chat and the company. I will take a massage under advisement, but in the meantime, good evening, and take care of yourselves."

Whether or not she would be stopped as she took her departure, she didn't know, but she headed for the holodeck's exit with a small smile, having enjoyed herself immensely despite the loss in the ring.

[ Lieutenant Valyn Amarik | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @P.C. Haring @Dumedion @Everyone  [Show/Hide]
After her fight, Valyn sat in quiet for a few minutes at the bar, nursing her cigar and sipping on a glass of a pretty, cerulean blue liquid, that nearly anyone might recognize as Romulan ale. She finished her cup, meeting eyes briefly with those who made any glances her way. In truth though, she paid attention most of all to the ongoing bouts. Each fight had two opponents with their own strengths and weaknesses, which Valyn picked up on quickly in most cases. Frank, she assumed would win. Enyd though, was by no means a slouch. Something which in truth, she grinned over. Her and Enyd had quickly become what Valyn would call friends in their time together, both aboard the Klingon ship and aboard Theurgy itself.

Her attention began to wane however, as the volume level of the various people drinking slowly began to rise. Every single fight night she'd ever been too eventually did escalate into nothing more than a drunken get-together. She certainly wasn't complaining, and if she were to be honest, she herself felt the mild, pleasant buzz of the Romulan Ale at the forefront of her mind.

When the loudest of the drunks was challenged however, Valyn perked up. "My bets on the quiet one." She dipped her drink towards  Talia, then began to wander back towards Reggie. Before she made her way over there though, she made certain to drop her badge back into the box. Valyn was ready for another fight, with whomever would have her. "Thanks for this." She shook what was left of the Cigar, speaking directly to Reggie for a moment as she made herself comfortable in a seat, looking to the bartender, "Could I get some pretzels?" It was one of the only Earth bar foods she'd come to entirely love since joining Starfleet. "With a side of honey mustard please." The holographic bartender got straight to work.

Valyn looked like she was in her element.

She could feel the rush of adrenaline rushing through her, and she could even smell it on some of the others. While some may have argued that the rules of the fighting made it more boring, she thought the opposite. Rules added a challenge that she greatly enjoyed. She knocked back the rest of her drink, and asked the bartender for another before spotting the pilot, the one who'd just fought the Andorian. "Good fight!" She shouted over at him, "What are you drinking?" Clearly she'd intended to buy him a drink, congratulating him on his victory. "Valyn Amarik" Almost as an afterthought, she introduced herself, offering her hand out to him if he decided to approach. As the Andorian made her way towards the exit, Valyn made certain to bow her head to the woman in farewell. She'd hoped to get her in the ring, but it could wait for another time. "Well fought!" She shouted after her.

[Ens. Via "DixieBee" Wix and Talia "Shadow" Al-Ibrahim | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @Everyone

Talia waited at the table, throwing a smirk to the blonde with the cigar before turning to watch her ‘opponent’ make her way to the ring, then setting off herself. Ignoring the crowd and the various looks cast her way, she moved past Via toward the ring with a sense of mild impatience; the holograms lingered by the table with the box of badges turned from their discussions to greet her with various nods and smiles. She leaned her knuckles on the table, taking a breath in preparation to explain what was about to happen.

“Bowing out, eh,” one of them spoke first, a gray haired, rail-thin elder with kind eyes. He wore a teal collared uniform from the 23rd century, the chest flap open as he smirked at her. Talia watched his bushy eyebrows rise and fall as the trio shared quiet chuckles, their eyes flickered from Via to Talia then back to Via.

“Not exactly,” Talia narrowed her eyes at them as she sighed. “I’m fighting her,” she jerked a thumb over her shoulder in a vague direction of the source of all the ruckus behind her.

“Yallah ain’t shit more like.” Via laughed followed by a rather rambunctious burp. She followed her opponent to the table where several more of the weirdly dressed holograms stood who were also taking into account the badges being placed in the box for the fight. The younger pilot stood next to her and copied her stance in a drunken attempt to seem equal as her.

“Nah I am fighting…uh...her.” She slurred. “And her bitchass is gonna fuckin’ be a ‘no ass’ after, and she gonna buy me a drink, and we will be friends, and…” Via burped again and forgot what she was rambling about. “Who the fuck are you lookin’ at? I ain’t afraid to fight not holographic BE-ATCH!!” She said to the hologram waiter. After she then placed her combadge in the box and looked at Talia. “Okie I did it, let's fight.” She raised her fists drunkenly not knowing the fight had to start in the boxing ring.

Talia rolled her eyes as she drew in a long breath, not bothering to even look in Via’s direction. “These guys are going to announce us and wrap us, then we get in the ring,” she deadpanned. “Put your hands down, you’re embarrassing yourself,” she hissed, shaking her head.

“I’ll take this one,” the older gent with the kind eyes pointed to Via with a chuckle, moving around the table to pat her gently on the shoulder. “Come along, lets get you ready,” he told her, motioning her off to the blue corner.

Talia arched a brow at Via, then jerked her head off to the side. “You want your fight? Best play along,” she smirked at her opponent; then moved off to the red corner with a grin, nodding at Kirk, who stood waiting for her. “Captain,” she greeted him, as she rolled the tension from her shoulders. “Having fun yet,” Kirk asked in a grinned whisper as he started taping her left hand. Talia grunted in response, but managed to smirk, as the lights flared and the announcer’s voice boomed across the room.

“Ladies and gentlemen, get ready for our next fight of the evening! For this bout, in the blue corner - presenting Via, “Dixiebee”, Wix!”

As her name was called out Via drunkenly stumbled to the elastic border containing them in the fighting ring and climbed up waving her hands in the air soaking in the elation of the crowd. Her words would still be slurred as she spoke. “That’s right! Im gonna- *Burp* I’m gonna fuckin’ show up for all of y’all by chewn’ ass and kickin’ bubble gum or some shit! Wooo!!” The woman relased her grip on the rope and fall flat onto her back with her motor functions diminishing and then got up to face her opponent.

As Kirk moved to her right hand, Talia rolled her shoulders, closing her eyes while the Captain chuckled. “She certainly knows how to play the crowd,” he commented. Talia smirked at him, arching a brow. “She still standing,” she asked, to which the aged hologram nodded with a grin. “Oh yes,” he craned his neck around her shoulder to look. “Seems to be enjoying herself. Nevermind that though,” his face grew serious, frowning at her. “You know this is supposed to be fun,” he paused, as Talia flexed her hands into fists. “Who says I’m not having fun,” she muttered, as she slid her hands into the gloves. “Coulda fooled me,” Kirk muttered as he tied them up, then held her mouth-guard up. “Well, good luck,” he shrugged.

“Aaand her opponent, in the red corner - Talia, “Shadow” Al-Ibrahim! Fighters, approach the ref when ready, and LETS GET IT ON!”

Talia sniffed as she bit down on the guard, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Right,” she mumbled, turning to face her opponent, thumping her gloves together after stretching her arms out across her torso. Guess here goes nothing, she thought dryly as she approached Via and the ref in the middle of the ring.

“Bitchassgothitinthefacesaywhat?” Via would say before immediately throwing the first punch in Taila’s face when she approached her. She let out a playful giggle while stepping back quickly incase of a realitory strike. The woman was playing street rules instinctively. Everything was fair game as long as no one died. It was much more fun that way.

The jab came from nowhere, right at her eye. “Mthr-fookn shtit,” Talia grunted as her gloved hand went to cover her eye, taking a step back. “Whut tha fook Bia,” she hollered. The ref smirked as he held his hands up between the two of them, holding Via back while Talia paced, shaking her head. “That's a point deduction, blue corner. Do it again and you’re disqualified. Wait to hear all instructions and the bell, understand,” he told her sternly.

Via audible groaned and swiped at the ref as if she was trying to swat an particularly annoying fly. “Hey holo bitch!” The woman turned around facing her rear in the referee’s direction and pulled down her pants exposing her bare bottom to him and most of the audiance. “Kiss my fuckin’ ass! I know you wanna!” she said with a michivous smirk before pulling them back up again.

“Cute,” the ref grunted, then glanced between the two fighters as he spoke rapidly. “Fighters may not strike their opponent in the back, back of the head, neck, or kidneys. You cannot hold and use the ropes to gain leverage for a punch. When I signal for a break, fighters must oblige, take a step back, and refrain from throwing punches. Understand? Touch gloves, go to your corners and wait for the bell.”

Via even drunk was flabbergasted by the rules, finding them stupid and unnecessary. “What the shit fuckin’ fuck. You made that shit up! Can’t even hit her ass?” She mumbled something under her breath as she considered just doing whatever anyway since it was technically unfair that she was able to hit Talia first without her hitting back. If she left now she would look like a coward. “Fine…” Via said then touched Talia’s gloves with her own. She walked to her own corner and just smirked as she watched her opponent warm up.

Talia just grunted, dropping her gloved fist down on Via’s with a smirk, then backed away to her corner, shaking her limbs out to stay warm and vent some nervous energy. She’s still quick, even hammered drunk, Talia considered, unless she’s really not as drunk as she seems…

Via’s drunken adrenaline was rushing through her. She was excited for this. Whether she got her ass beat or she won she didn’t care. This was going to be the most fun she had since waking up from her coma.

Talia just shook her head as she bounced, trying to get used to the bulky gloves on her hands as she watched Via with a mix of curiosity and confusion. Wonder what she's like sober - no way she's like this, she thought, but the ding-ding of the bell interrupted any further musing; her gloves came up to guard as she took a few steps forward and waited for Via to close the distance, encouraging her drunken opponent with a subtle wiggle of her gloves.

Via belted a laugh as she bounded in, fists swinging in a wild but telegraphed series of quick jabs and hooks to Talia’s face and torso. She wasn't even trying to guard herself, or stay out of the bitchy pilot's reach. She had ran up on her and was doing her best to pummel the shit out of her, bouncing around like a maniac, grinning the whole time.

Talia held her ground, blocking most of the blows she could catch as she rotated to keep Via in front of her. The punches were wild, moving from her head, arms, and abs almost at random, but she could already hear Via panting from the effort. The ones that landed stung a bit, but not as much as she'd expected, so she held her guard close and took a step back; not bothering to throw a single strike yet.

Via seemed to be getting frustrated, following after Talia as her punches got slower but with more weight behind them. She threw haymakers one after the other at Talia’s head.

When her back hit the corner, Talia grunted under the impact of a wild swing landing on her bicep, followed by the opposite fist slamming into the glove by her head. She heard Via heaving ragged breaths, drawing in great gulps of air before every swing, and Talia had been waiting for her to wear herself out. Just a bit longer…come on, she grimaced, tensing her abs and lowering her gloves as she watched Via's eyes and head drop. As blow after blow struck her arms, elbows, and torso, Talia watched, and waited, - but breathed - where her opponent was barely standing.

Now.

She saw the next blow coming and leaned back, letting the glove sail past her as she spun out of the corner; giving Via a slight shove to add momentum. Via’s back slammed into the corner hard enough to pop her chin up, wide open - but Talia went for the body; her left hit hard, just below the ribcage, square in the girl’s abdomen. To finish Via off, she hooked a quick right across the jaw and bounced away, gloves up just in case.

The momentum of the final punch caused Via to buckle and fall onto the mat. There was a weird yet familiar sense of bliss that overcame her. She missed this. She missed having fun and playing around with fun people with no care in the world. However, something else came creeping in from her memories. The Training Center Omega Incident, the closest she had ever been to death and the most traumatic thing she had ever experienced. Via had seen some of terrible things in her past that to this day she can’t register due to being so young. People getting tortured, shot, dead bodies, everything that one would witness being raised in a gang she saw. Still, none of that affected her as much as her feeling cold, dark, and helpless in the void of space. Via would never admit it though, her ego was too big to do so, and she did her best to hide her pain but sometimes it would come out without against her will.

Everything seemed to slow as her vision went in and out of darkness. Panic built up inside her. She didn’t want to die. Tears started forming in the corner in her eyes in fear but the feeling of them caused her to snap out of it. The world around her sped up to normal time and she felt herself again…with throbbing pain all over her body. The ref counted down to one and the crowd cheered. Via questioned what had happened in the past moments then realized she was face flat on the ground. She lost…

“Fuckin’ shit balls…” she mumbled on the ground. “I ain’t cryin’ you’re cryin’ shut up.”

Talia pushed the mouthguard off her teeth; chewing it as she paced while the ref counted, then called the fight, grinning at Via's continued antics before going to one knee beside her. "C'mon, let's get you up. Think you've had enough for one night, huh," she tilted her head, chuckling as they tried to grip each other's gloves. With a nod to the ref, who hooked his hands under the weary pilot's arms, they managed to get her up on her feet. Talia hooked one arm around her waist to steady her, draping the other over her shoulders.

Via’s head throbbed and her legs felt like mush, she could barely hold herself up, but she managed to express a smile and her childlike fascination over the fight. “Fuckin’...that was soo cool. You were like argh, and I was like not today, and then you were like boom and I was like…I am goin’ to be sick…” Via said the last past as she held her stomach.

Laughing as they stumbled to the ropes, Talia shook her head, grunting under the dead weight. "You better not puke on me," she grumbled, as she cradled the fellow Wolf in her arms and crouched to pass between the ropes. Making her way to the medical tent, Via loosed a loud snore as her head fell back. "Sweet dreams, DixieBee," Talia chuckled, bearing the limp pilot with no trouble at all.

[ Lieutenant Frank Arnold | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy]

@P.C. Haring

Frank gave Reggie an easy smile as he held up his glass to her as he took another sip of the dark amber smoked concoction. "No worries Reggie.  Anytime."  Another sip was taken as blue eyes turned contemplative for a moment, then a third sip was taken.   "If anything, I supposed I should really be thanking you."  The Chief Engineer turned to face Lone Wolf as he leaned on the table with is free arm. "It's good to see what the old instincts are still around since the two of us aren't lying in biobeds with multiple rounds of surgery lined up.  You could have come off much worse.  I guess it's a good thing your eyes are implants anyway, so that's not a good excuse to keep you out of the cockpit."  Another sip.  "I think that little adventure of ours really highlights the fact that I'm chief gearhead of this tub and I really shouldn't be going off doing stuff like fiddling with the fighters.  If anything, I should leave it to the flight crews there, or send someone else."  Frank tossed back the rest of his drink and held up his glass to signal for another.   His eyes turned not quite sad, but more nostalgic as he came to real realization that of all the responsibilities that had landed on his shoulders.  Luckily, he had very broad shoulders to support the load.   "Yesiree, that's me.  Have to be all responsible now." 

The drink arrived from a holographic waiter that had a massive tall blond cone on her head and was wearing a red uniform from time passed that was a dress.  "Let me know if you need anything else." the waitress asked as Frank nodded before she bustled off to something else. "Interesting hair that one. "  Frank muttered, and he had to wonder if the muscular woman was going to get her fight.  The Chief Engineer looked at her opponent who dubiously lurched her way to the ring and eventually made her way in.  "So Reggie, what do you think of this matchup?  Can't say I see lanky here doing much to Talia.  If anything Talia's going to, what the hell!??"  Frank exclaimed as Via for all intents and purposes sucker punched Talia before the match even began.  Frank was tempted to grab the smaller pilot and just toss her out of the holodeck right then and there.  Mooning the holographic ref put her one step closer.  It seemed at this rate, Talia wasn't going to get to fight her fellow pilot at all and instead would have to settle for being frustrated or pointing and laughing at Via.  Frank noticed that Via didn't seem to take to kindly to the reprimand, but decided to play straight anyway.

When the bell rang, Frank was disappointed.  Lots of energy, but not much else he decided.  His gaze shifted to Talia and he had to wonder why she'd gone for what amounted to rope a dope and just get wailed on.  It wasn't his style as he preferred to dodge instead.  Still, if it was stupid and it worked, it sure wasn't stupid as Via began to slow down and Talia gave a solid combo that knocked the other Wolf to the ground.  At the ten count, Frank clapped and whistled.  It wasn't good boxing, but it was entertaining.  He spotted the familiar form of the medic standing next to ring where Talia was carrying an unconscious Via to the ropes.  It seemed the good doctor was annoyed by the way her antennae were flat and her arms crossed.  "Me thinks the doctor at this outing is unhappy.  What about you Reggie, any plans to step in and vent your frustrations on someone, and do you think she'll be okay?"  Frank asked as a finger pointed at the unconscious pilot.

[Lt (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark) | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy]

@BipSpoon @Dumedion @ob2lander961 @Nero  

"Awwww, not efen guonna sty...."  Zark shut off her talking so she could swallow the flatbread she was munching on and took a sip of beer. By the time she opened her mouth, her boss was already on the way out. Huh...Oh Well

Turning her attention back to the table, she was about to fire off a question to the Lone Wolf when she recognized the form of Valyn Amarik joining them and Zark gave a smile to the organizer before answering her question.  "Nice ta meetchya Miss Amarik.  IN this case, I'm drinking his " a cobalt finger pointed at Logan "beer since he has a cranial anti inflammatory at work making sure he doesn't get a concussion after the way zh'Wann clocked him in the head.  It's a nice Pilsner, though I might switch to something else after this."  Exposed blue shoulders shrugged at her own indecision, but there was still plenty of liquid in the glass, so lots of time to choose another drink.

As to the question of who was going to win, the combat medic took a look at both fighters and discarded her initial impression.  It didn't do any good as her mind ran the variables and came back to the same conclusion. Barring a miracle or a galactic fluke, Via was going to have her ass handed to her.  "Good thing we didn't ask for bets cause I'm not taking any of those at this point.  The muscular one is gonna win, it's just a question of how quickly."

Via stumbled into the ring and Zark watched with interest as the somewhat shorter, but way more muscled woman waited impatiently.  This quickly transformed to a blue hand covering blue green eyes as Zark face palmed seeing Via punch the other pilot before the bell even began.  She knew Via was excessively impulsive, but this took the cake for the day.  The worst part was Zark was sure Via was going to do something outrageous to top it soon. "For the love of Lor'Vela. Via you schnarzzed klazh" Zark muttered under her breath.  The hands stayed covering the eyes till the bell rang and they slowly lifted out to see Via smashing away at her opponent.  Zark blinked in surprise that Via had that much energy after ingesting what appeared to be a whole bottle of hard liquor.  She sat there wondering if Via had been covering up the true extent of her inebriation, but something was off for as energetic as it looked, her opponent seemed to be taking it in stride and Zark realized Via was doomed as her pace would inevitably slow. "Logan, Valyn, excuse me a moment."

Zark grabbed a last piece of hari and popped it in her mouth before grabbing the now becoming well used med kit.  She jogged away from the ring to the pot that contained her combadge and rummaged around till she found it and clipped it to the strap of her sports bra.  This took up just enough time for her to return to the ring and watch Via get hit, hard, by Talia where Dixie Bee fell to the mat.  Zark didn't even notice as her antennae seemed to deflate and she crossed her arms over her bust to wait the result.  Truthfully, if Via had gotten up after that combo, Zark would probably have ended the match on medical grounds as she remembered how much the hyperactive pilot drank.  With the ten count complete, Zark had to give a soft smile as the two appeared to have settled whatever disagreement they were having, only for the smile to disappear into a frown as Via's energetic reactions abruptly came to a halt.  Zark was tempted to jump into the ring, but seeing Talia's apparent non reaction, she figured it wasn't a serious issue.

The combat medic directed the pilot to help her fellow unconscious pilot out of the ring, then lay her on a newly summoned gurney. This was actually much harder than anticipated as Zark was taking shallow breaths through her mouth after almost gagging on the smell of all the alcohol that seemed to be seeping and evaporating out of Via's pores.  Thankfully the trip didn't take too long before the medic pulled out her tricorder and began an preliminary analysis.  Only for her to blink as the screen turned a lurid red with a toxicity warning.  Practiced blue fingers touched the warning and Zark's well defined jaw dropped as to what she was seeing had to be flat out impossible.  A couple of buttons reset the tricorder and she scanned the snoring pilot once more before wide shocked eyes glanced at Dixie Bee. "What in Lor'Vela's name are you Via?" Zark asked aloud to no one in particular as the reading of 0.3 glowed on the blood alcohol concentration warning.

Zark shook her head as she shifted the pilot to a recovery position on the bed.   Oh, this is gonna be so humiliating............unless the medic thought to herself.  Big eyes turned on the sleeping pilot.  "I'm so sorry Via."  Zark told the prone form. "Computer, erect a solid wall around this gurney."  A box appeared around the bed and Zark smirked as she picked up the prone pilot.  "Okaaaay.  Computer, two to beam to Via Wix's quarters. Security override zh’Ptrell Sierra-Marshall-Car-Six-Five-Two-Zero.  Energize." A shimmering light swept Zark and Via away leaving nary a trace.

When the light disappeared and Zark regained vision, she gently laid the pilot down on her bed, still making sure she was leaning over in the recovery position.   Seeing her patient stable, she made her way to the replicator and created all the necessary items to clear out a near fatal level of alcohol.  Alcohol scrubbers, nutrient stabilizers, sedatives, and an IV.  True, everything could just be injected, but sometimes, the body had to take things at their own pace.  Zark set about injecting what she could, then she set out to find a place to hang the IV bag.  This was trickier as she had to settle for leaving it on a shelf and let gravity steadily feed it into the pilot's system.  "Good thing, she's asleep." Zark muttered to herself as she went to the washroom to clean her hands before grabbing a pair of medical gloves and snapping them in position.  "She really shouldn't drink so hard." the medic muttered to herself again.  Sighing there was no avoiding what was next as she attached the tubes to the bag and gently tapped on a limp forearm to find a vein.  It didn't take long, but Zark had to be careful inserting the catheter before taping it in place and ensuring a steady flow of liquid.  With that done Zark grabbed a PADD nearby and set it to record as she took a selfie video with Via in the background.  "Hey hon.  Zark here.  As you can see, you're totally blotto and knocked out after Talia hit you in the ring.  Needless to say, you hit the hard stuff way too hard and you're blood alcohol was around 0.3.  In short, you almost hit the level where I had to send you to sickbay.  Hopefully when the sedative wears off, the the IV bag should be empty enough and you'll be in better shape.  Try to take it easy and avoid to more alcohol tomorrow, caffeine if you can help it as well. You need to let your body rest."  The medic's face turned stern for a moment.  "Now Dixiebee, don't let me catch you drinking that hard again where you get this drunk.  If I have to bail you out again, well, you don't like having doctor's fingers up your ass, but that's the other place I know how to stick tubes of fluids, so consider yourself warned."  The medico smiled like an angel as she waggled her fingers for the camera.  "Have a good day and drink plenty of water.  Take care."

Satisfied with her work, Zark shook her head and left the PADD next to Via's head.  She'd have to see later what Via would think of the whole thing, but that was another problem for another day.  With that, Zark beamed herself back to the enclosure and exited to see what else was going on the holodeck.

---

schnarzzed klazh = careless drunk
hari = Andorian flatbread

[ Ens. Talia Al-Ibrahim | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @RyeTanker
[Show/Hide]She looks pissed, was her initial assessment of the Andorian that waited beyond the ropes. Talia swallowed before following her wordlessly, only nodding briefly in greeting. The priority was Via, not pleasantries; those could come later. After gently setting the limp, snoring pilot upon the gurney, Talia took several steps back to give the blue-skinned woman space to work.

As Talia watched, and listened, she started to pace as the Andorian adjusted Via's position, seemingly alarmed at something. Shit, what did I do, worried concern grew in her mind, softening her features, even as her brows knit. When the privacy barrier went up, Talia took a step forward, about to ask what was happening – but then she overheard the emergency transport command – the familiar lights and sounds of its execution almost immediately after.

“Oh no,” she whispered, her gloved hands covering her mouth. I…I don’t think I hit her that hard, her head shook subtly. She was a little loopy, but she seemed okay! Shit, she rested the gloves on the top of her head, staring at the privacy wall as if it would give her the answers she sought. I shouldn’t have done it. I knew she was drunk…I should have just walked away. Fuck, she chastised herself, pacing again, using her teeth to untie one glove; once it was loose enough to pull her hand free, she let it fall to the deck. Nice job ace – real clever, her jaw clenched as she untied the other glove.

Her eye still stung from Via’s jab, and as the adrenaline from the fight eased from her blood, she felt the other hits too. No one forced you to fight her, *himar – you’re just so caught up in your own bullshit that you let it happen. Sighing with frustration at herself, she picked up the gloves and leaned her ass against the side of the ring to wait – brooding over every decision that led her into the holodeck. Her back and neck supported by the bottom ropes, Talia closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

You’ve been here four days, she scolded herself. Ever since you woke up you’ve done nothing but rampage from one task to the next in an insane race against time. Where has that gotten you? When will you learn to slow down, and think before you act; before you discard people out of fear of how they judge you? Huh? What if you seriously jacked her up? What if she fell into a coma, or…

“Stop it,” Talia growled at herself, a taped fist hitting the mat for emphasis. “Just…stop.” Leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees, Talia waited; ignoring the sounds of the crowd, and trying to ignore the way she smelled.  Via’s sweat had mixed with her own; unpleasantly sour, cloying in its intensity. Yes, she was a loudmouthed, obnoxious drunk…but you should have known better.

To her surprise, she felt a towel draped over her shoulder – turning to see the hologram of Kirk wink at her from above. “Put that to good use,” he gestured to her, then walked off back across the ring. Despite her guilt-ridden mood, Talia smirked at him as she wiped herself free of tequila-infused stink.

Talia set about pacing again as the moments drew out, until the Andorian finally returned from the enclosure. She didn’t seem as upset, more tired than anything, but Talia didn’t know for sure. Approaching hesitantly, offering time for the azure skinned woman to reorient; her hands rested nervously on her hips as she took a breath. “Is Via okay,” she asked quietly, chewing on her bottom lip.

*himar – donkey, jackass

[ Crewman Samala (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Samala) | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy | Orbiting Qo’noS ]
[Show/Hide] 
Her brother had signed off some time ago and Samala had been left to survey the fights before alone after Mickalya too had departed, her interest having waned as the evening wore on. The pilot was at something of a loss. She had come expecting to participate in a fight and yet her name had not been called nor had anyone come up and challenged her directly. Was she expected, as the stronger combatant to challenge those with less skill and fortitude than herself? That didn’t seem right.

“Everyone else is having a good time, despite them fighting each other. And I am stuck sitting here, wondering why no one wants to have a go. Is it because of my brother?” Samala wondered to herself as another bout ended and the fighters came together to celebrate., showing that there were no hard feelings between them. All the fights had been like this, and she wanted hers to be as well but something inside her told her tonight was not going to be her night. It was the same feeling she got when she was flying that caused her to take a particular course or perform a certain manoeuvre. It had never been wrong before. 

Sighing, Samala climbed to her feet and retrieved her combadge. With a last sidelong look at the ring and the Theurgy crew around it, Samala departed the holodeck.

[Lt (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark) | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy]

@BipSpoon @Dumedion @Nero 

Zark blinked as Via's opponent stopped and asked after her fellow Wolf.  The medico needed a moment to pluck the name before giving a grim and exhausted smile.  "Talia right?.  Well it was touch and go there for a while.  The patient exhibited signs of extreme alcohol poisoning, so I had to set a persistent transport cycle to beam the blood and fluids out into space while I carved up a cadaver to get her a new liver.  At the same time, it was necessary to pump IV fluids into her ass since her veins were shot and kept breaking the catheters."  The medico gave a bright smile after her absurd report was delivered.  "And you can believe as much or as little of that as you want.  Via's sedated and fine.  She'll have a major headache in the morning, but one that's far less than one would normally have with a blood alcohol level of nought point three."  The blue head shook again in disbelief at the number she had seen as she took the gloves off and threw them on a table.  A shimmering light transported the bio-hazardous materials away for reprocessing.

Zark was a very touchy feely person at the end of the day, and intimacy was one thing she absolutely loved, so she naturally grabbed the pilot in a hug and gave a reassuring squeeze before separating, though she did leave her hands on the pilot's shoulders.  "Seriously, she'll be fine.  If anything, she probably had a good time with you in the ring and she's more likely going to be mad with me.  Probably will think I really did probe her rectum."  Zark let go as her shoulders and arms made gallic shrug. "C'est la vie mon ami.  I'll deal with it afterwards.  Maybe have to knock her on her butt for real."

The medic merrily grabbed the pilot into the enclosure and made her sit in a chair as she turned on an examination light and grabbed another dermal regenerator while talking away at the muscular woman. "Between you and me, Via got off pretty lucky in fighting you since that sucker punch really was uncalled for."  Blue hands began manipulating the device over the bruised nose primarily before working on other areas that the wild flailing had hit. "If I was in there with that sucker punch, we probably would have just gone for anything goes and I would have figured at least a dozen ways to bend and stretch her.   Maybe would have sprained more than a few joints on her in the process.  She'd probably look like a pretzel afterwards.  Stop moving! And there, all better." the medico declared.  The whirlwind medic helped the pilot up and tossed the medical device aside before linking arms with her and leading her out back to her table.  "You must be really new here.  Don't remember you on the pilot roster before.  Have you had a chance to meet anyone else?"  Zark stopped with the pilot she dragged along to her table.  "This here is Valyn Amarik, formerly with Security, now with Intel; and I'm pretty sure you know Mr. Logan Hale.  Have you two met Talia before?  Sorry hon, last name was Al-Ibrahim right?"  Zark asked as she happily bounced questions around the table very quickly.

[Ens. Talia 'Shadow' Al-Ibrahim | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy] Attn:  @RyeTanker @BipSpoon @Nero
[Show/Hide]After hearing the initial response to her question, all Talia could do was blink as her mind shifted away from self-flagellation and focused on the words ‘alcohol poisoning’ and ‘cadaver’. Wait, what, her brow knitted as her head jerked subtly;  then it was made apparent that the Andorian was teasing her, which let her relax with a visible exhalation of relief. Talia nodded then, opening her mouth to thank the blue-skinned woman, but then she was being wrapped up in a warm hug.

“Oh,” Talia murmured, caught off-guard by the gesture. Her body stiffened on instinct, unprepared for the close contact. O-okay, we’re hugging. Hugs are nice. Shit, what do I do? Her hands stayed at her sides, twitching in hesitation, unsure if she should return the hug or not. The moment passed quickly, leaving her vision dominated by blue and silver and once again lost for words at the possibility of Via’s reaction to her medical treatment. When in doubt, just nod, she told herself, before she did just that.

Next thing she knew, Talia was pulled into the enclosure, spun around and pushed into a chair; a glaringly bright light blasted into her face, causing her to wince and raise a hand as she blinked away the spots from her vision. The Andorian batted that away as she talked and raised a lightly humming device to her face; Talia swerved her head away on instinct, unsure what was going on. Pretzel? What? Then she froze when told to, eyebrows raised and fingers extended, like a lab animal caught on an examination table. The device made her skin itch, especially her nose – she fought the urge to wiggle it. The pressure in her sinuses was released as the swelling from Via’s jab healed, leaving her able to breathe out of both nostrils again. As she opened her mouth to offer thanks, the Andorian promptly stood her up. “Oof, um, ok,” Talia muttered as she was led back out by the arm.

She glanced around quickly after leaving the enclosure, spotting Gramps and Gemini still idling at the table by the bar; letting the Andorian lead her. Her mouth opened to respond when they stopped at another table, whereupon she recognized two previous fighters of the evening. One was the fierce-eyed blonde that dropped the pleasantly built Trill in the first match; the other the calm-countenanced fellow Wolf that survived a viscous elbow to the brain-case by the other dangerous looking Andorian. Both would make short work of her in the ring – but certainly offered more of a chance for her to learn something. Talia blinked as she took a quick breath, nodding to everyone in greeting. She turned to face the Andorian then, a slight curl to her lips as her taped hands rested on the rolled waistband at her hips.

“Thanks for taking care of Via, and everyone else,” she huffed in amusement at finally being able to answer, “and no, I haven’t met many – I woke up from cryo only a few days ago,” she gestured to Hale. “I’ve read up on him and some of the other Wolves though,” her dark chocolate eyes met his. “Look forward to flying with you, Wraith,” she lifted her chin to him, then turned her eyes to the blonde, head tilted subtly. Security then Intel. Explains the casual ‘fuck around and find out’ look, she thought, as the curl at the corner of her lips grew. Medusa, she assigned to Valyn, and Kāli, she labeled the medic, as her eyes glanced between the two. “Just ‘Shadow’ or Talia is fine,” she lifted a shoulder dismissively, licking her dry lips quickly before turning back to Kāli. “Didn’t catch your name, by the way,” she smirked, flexing her hands, wiggling her fingers; a nervous sensation crept up her spine out of nowhere. I’m forgetting something. Talia’s brows knit as her head spun to the table with the box of badges. That would be it, she sighed quietly, but hesitated to go get hers; the night was still young, even though a few people had left. She still owed Frank a drink, and didn’t feel like returning to the work waiting for her in her room.

[(https://uss-theurgy.com/w/images/2/28/M_w-o2.png) Lt. JG Logan Hale, callsign "Wraith" (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Logan_Hale,_callsign_"Wraith") | Holodeck 5 | Deck 21 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @BipSpoon @Stegro88 @Auctor Lucan @P.C. Haring @Ellen Fitz @ob2lander961 @Dumedion @RyeTanker
[Show/Hide]Logan threw his hand in the air in an implied salute, thanking the approaching woman. Logan had seen her fight before and was impressed with her skills. "Thank you and likewise." he called against the din of the hall. He pulled up the chair where Ida had been sitting earlier. She had taken her leave in the meantime, so the seat was vacant. So, Logan now offered it to the woman, who introduced herself as Valyn Amarik.

Logan sipped his non-alcoholic beer. It tasted good. That was surprising. Even though synthohol was usually served, there was actual alcohol to be consumed on some occasions and celebrations like this one here. Therefore, it was amazing that people in the twentieth century could actually brew tasty beer without alcohol. Another item to add to his list. He had to find the science officer at some point with whom he wanted to open a small brewery. Maybe they could make a little money doing that. Logan emptied his glass.
"Thank you and thank you for this great evening, Valyn," Logan thanked her as he received his new beer. "It feels good to blow off some steam for a change, even if I had envisioned my victory differently." Logan toasted the two women.

When he realized there were two wolves fighting, he threw his hands up in disbelief. "This can't be..." Logan was appalled that the smaller of the two, just flat out ignored the rain and struck before the first bell. That was stupid. It showed disrespect for the opponent and, more importantly, for the sport. Boos rang out throughout the hall, but the girl seemed to enjoy it somehow. Oh, man..., Logan thought. This is going to be a tough one. Fuck...

"That girl is drunk. She's gonna... Oh... shit..." the pilot said as he watched the muscular woman send Via to the boards. Zark intervened and helped Via by having her brought out. It was certainly for the best of all involved. Then he turned to the hostess. He wanted to hear her opinion on the evening "How do you like the evening so far Valyn? Are you happy with how it is going?" Logan allowed himself another sip of his beer and also tore off some of the Andorian flatbread. "I'm definitely pleased. Partied, punched and got punched in the face, and get rewarded with a beer. It doesn't get any better than that."
Then Zark brought the winner of the last fight to their table and introduced her. Once again Logan threw the casual salute. "Congratulations on the win, Shadow. How's Via?"

[Reggie Suder | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy ] attn: @RyeTanker‍   @Dumedion‍   @ob2lander961‍ 

Reggie felt herself shrink a bit at the comment about her ocular implants.  While it could not hold a candle to some of her experiences against the Dominion, the memory of that injury, that disability albeit a temporary one due to the ocular implants, still weighed heavily on her.  Fortunately, Frank’s next comment about responsibility put a smile back on her face as she chuckled. 

“Eh.  Responsibility is over rated.  I mean sure, Command elicits a certain amount of responsibility, but I’ve never let that get in the way of having fun along the way.”

She watched the proceedings in the ring as Talia and Via started their unorthodox match and listened as Frank offered commentary.  The Betazoid was no fighter, at least not in this format, but she was almost certain Via had broken at least a few rules, a thought all but confirmed as she felt Frank’s anger and his efforts to keep it controlled.  Reggie hadn’t known either Frank or Via, or Talia for that matter for too long, but already she was seeing how they all operated.  Via liked to showboat, had an attitude about her and a certain aggressiveness that would do her well in the cockpit so long as she could temper a little more discipline.  Flying combat was a delicate dance of balancing on the edge of a knife blade, sitting just this side of the line of insanity.  Via sat on that edge, no question, but she teetered from one side to the other, leaving Reggie to worry she might just fall off and get herself killed.

When did I become so conservative?  A few years back I was on much the same edge of insanity that she is now.  Crazy what a war does to people..

Frank’s question about whether or not she would step into the ring brought another chuckle out.

“Nah.  Outside the cockpit, I’m more of a lover than a fighter.  As for DixieBee,” her voice trailed off as she watch Talia carry her out of the ring.  Reggie’s thoughts returned to the training flight they’d had just before she inadvertently met Frank.  She’d proven herself quite the competent pilot, a ball of fire, and one to keep an eye on.  Her performance had been so strong that she was considering having her bumped up in the flight roster to element leader, essentially switching slots with Mr. Morgan whose performance had been less than impressive.  She would take that up with Razor another time perhaps once she knew if Via was going to be on her feet in the morning.

“She’d better be okay, she’s assigned to my flight and if she misses our next training run, Talia ain’t the only one whose gonna kick her ass.”

[ Lieutenant Valyn Amarik | Holodeck 05 | Deck 05 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Dumedion @ob2lander961 @Nero @RyeTanker @everyone [Show/Hide]Valyn let her eyes follow the seemingly inebriated officer for a moment, her eyes narrowing slowly at her. Drunken fisticuffs hadn’t exactly been her direct intention for the evening but, she didn’t say anything. There was always at least one of them, and usually the more sober of the opponents won out. So, Valyn allowed Talia to be the one to educate her on the importance of fighting with a clear head, else, by the look on her face it appeared she herself may have challenged the woman.

Seeing Kirk in the holodeck was a bit of a strange experience. She’s seen plenty of holos of the man in the past, be it at some Academy symposium or a cheesy advertisement…at least on Federation worlds. What she’d been taught of the man in her own youth was nothing short of propaganda, designed with the singular intention of warping the perception of the Federation to young Romulan minds. To a young Valyn, Kirk had been little more than an opposing imperialist, bent on the pollution and destruction of Romulan society. It hadn’t been elaborated on, or explained, that was simply the facts as they were taught. Of course, learning the true history later in her training, and then again seeing more of the truth revealed after her defection, had been a bit strange. Thus, seeing him standing, right there, refereeing a boxing match, was a very odd experience.

Quickly though her attention shifted focused onto the bout itself, namely the behavior of the drunken one. Her nostrils flared briefly in annoyance. “Who’s this ‘Dixiebee’?” She said it to nobody in particular, instead offering it to all those in her vicinity to answer. By the pitch of her voice though, she didn’t sound as if she was asking simply for a desire for an introduction. Despite the behavior, Valyn couldn’t help but be at least a little impressed by her aptitude to fight, even what seemed like blind drunk.

Just as quickly as it’d started though, it seemed as it was over.

“Nothing wrong with a good ol’ fashioned beer.” She dipped her head towards Zark’s drink. “I’m a Romulan Ale drinker, through and through.” Her voice lowered, almost conspiratorially, “illegal or not.” She let out a small chuff of laughter and added, “I do like a good martini though, tequila once in a while and…a good whiskey. It’s the closest thing humanity has to Romulan Ale I’d imagine. It lacks the same…” She rubbed two fingers together, “Sensation.” Romulan Ale had a strange way of opening up the nostrils as one drank it, allowing the drinker to feel every bit of the flavor.

She nodded, watching Zark move over to render some additional aid as her pretzels arrived. They were hot, and served with two small cups of a sauce, some spicy cheese and a hearty mustard. “Oh those look excellent.” She tore off a small bite, and plunged it directly into the steaming cheese, before popping the whole thing into her mouth.

She gave a little wave to Talia as Zark introduced her, swallowing her food and offering her hand out, “Nice to meet you. You’re a more patient opponent than I am, a punch like that one my way and I’d of rung her bell into next week.” She let out an exaggerated whistle, and winked. While she wasn’t chuffed with the behavior she’d seen in the ring, she wasn’t going to make a big deal of it. The whole point of the dance was a place people could blow off steam without some officer shitting down their neck after the fact. What happened there, stayed.

“‘Course.” She gave a nod to Logan, “It’d been too long since I’d done one of these. We used to do them somewhat regularly on the Enterprise. Not this big but…some of us in Security.” Ever since, she’d had the itch for a good fight night every so often. It’d been a great idea, and not one she’d expected to see on a Federation ship. “I’m pleased with the night so far, besides from a little bit of the uh-“ She searched for a different word, “Less than honorable behavior in the ring. Someone clearly hadn’t been to a boxing match before.” She scratched her head. Boxing she knew she could get away with, if the fights turned into full blown MMA matches, the brass may have started to have a problem with it.

Seeing the ring stand empty for a moment she threw back a shot of Ale and shook her head, letting the warm sensation of the drink run through her briefly before she looked right at Talia, “How about it, you and me?” She raised an eyebrow, and gave her a crooked sort of grin, teasing with the amusement she painted across her visage.

[ Ens. Talia 'Shadow' Al-Ibrahim & Lieutenant Valyn Amarik | Holodeck 05 | Deck 05 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @everyone

After hearing Medusa’s comments about Via, Talia simply smirked and nodded subtly. Dixiebee was fighting herself in there, not me, she thought, I doubt she’ll even remember it. “Still asleep I imagine,” she answered Wraith’s question about Via, then glanced at Kāli with a smirk, “but she’ll live.” She took a step back from the conversation then to snag the attention of one of the passing waiters and ordered herself a whiskey; much preferred over Frank’s scotch, which she ordered for him and asked the holo to deliver. “Tell him: thanks, Gramps,” she grinned, all teeth and dimples. She stepped back up to the table in time to lock eyes with Medusa. Caught off guard by the Romulan’s question and expression, Talia blinked as her brows twitched together – head cocked slightly in a subtle expression of confusion mixed with surprise. “Say again,” Talia asked with a hint of humor, assuming she missed some important context in the last few seconds.

Valyn shrugged, "You won, I won. Only makes sense." She gave Talia a crooked grin and ushered a coach over, though it was not Kirk. It was a holographic projection of Ben Sisko, cracking a few jokes and chuckling along with a few other potential boxers, commenting on the competition. He wrapped up Valyn’s hand for her, and Valyn made a pouty sort of look at Talia.

"Oh come on, it’ll be fun." She waved her along, trying to garner a bit more excitement. "We can even put a bit of a friendly…incentive on it, if you like." She grinned again, this time appearing far more mischievous than she typically might have allowed herself to look outside of the casual confines of the holodeck.

Talia’s eyes followed the Romulan, the curl of her lips rising. The blonde’s grin was infectious, and as the waiter brought her drink over, the pilot nodded to him and scooped it up in one hand. She glanced at her hands then, still wrapped and taped. Guess she has a point, the pilot smirked. Excusing herself from Kāli and Wraith, the long rope of her hair draped over one shoulder, she followed after Valyn. Like a moth to flame, she chuckled, or a lamb to slaughter. Still, even as she approached, her dark eyes sizing the Romulan up - her heart rate ramped up at the thought of the challenge.

Lifting her chin to Sisko before turning her eyes to Valyn, Talia raised her glass of whiskey to her nose with a slight swirl. Her brow twitched fractionally as she grinned, then tipped her head back and downed it in one smooth motion, licking the flavor from her lip as her head tilted. “What do you have in mind,” she smirked; Via had - in her own colorful way - used a similar tactic to goad her into the ring. Talia wasn’t about to make the same mistake again; but she doubted that was the hazel eyed blonde's objective.

Valyn gave her a shrug, "I ain’t got no idea." She pursed her lips, running a finger across her lower lip in thought. "How about…I win, and you have to give me a tour around one of those fancy fighters." She hadn’t gotten the chance to get her hands on one. She didn’t imagine she’d be taking one for a spin, but still. There was something visceral and exciting about even being in one of them, grounded or not. "You win…and…" She trailed off, offering Talia the chance to name her own odds.

She looked up at the ring, and climbed in, squeezing herself between the ropes to jump in as Sisko followed behind with her gloves and mouthguard. Valyn was every bit a fighter. She enjoyed a good fight, through and through. Even the ones where the consequence of loss meant death, she found a sick sense of excitement in. She slid the gloves on and started to dance around the ring a bit, loosening herself up. Valyn was plainly sober, and her muscled Romulan body responded with ruthless efficiency with each practice punch that she threw, waving Talia into the ring.

Grinning at the thought of hearing the Romulan squeal under a high G maneuver, Talia watched her climb up into the ring. Holding no illusions, but refusing to show any hint of trepidation or intimidation (being a stick jockey came with certain prerequisites after all),  she rotated the tension from her neck before letting her eyes search for Kirk. The aged Captain met her eyes mid-conversation with McCoy, his bushy eyebrows knitted as he looked at her with a ‘what are you doing’ look. Talia smirked at him, jerking her head slightly in a ‘c’mere’ gesture, before reaching up to haul herself up into the ring.

Pausing to lean her elbows on the top rope, she fixed Medusa with a semi-serious mask, biting her bottom lip to keep from smiling too much. Taking her up just might be worth getting my ass beat, she told herself with an amused chuckle. “I’ll settle for an IOU,” she shrugged nonchalantly, then nodded before bending her way in between the top and middle ropes. “I’ll try to give you a better show than the last guy,” she smirked at Valyn on her way across the ring to meet up with Kirk; noting that the good Captain had scooped her gloves up from where she’d dropped them.

“Feeling froggy are we,” Kirk muttered to her as he held the gloves out, his face an odd mix of amusement and concern. Talia shrugged before slipping her left hand in first, shaking her limbs out to limber up, again. “Maybe,” she smirked at him, “but this time I’m having fun.”

Valyn watched as Kirk gloved up Talia, and turned her gaze to Sisko, "Make ‘em tight." She requested, and he nodded in assent. He was quick, the hologram at least knowing what he was doing when it came to boxing. After a moment, he placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a few nods, close to her face.

“Keep your guard up. Don’t let her pummel your torso.” He gave her a jab with a finger right in her ribs and she grimaced, giving him a nod. He clapped her shoulders and moved out of the ring as the match was announced, the loud voice calling out over the whole of the ring in a powerful, heraldic tone

“FORRR OUR NEXT MATCH-” He started.

“CHALLENGING, WE HAVE VALYN. AMARIK!” He shouted the name, and some of the holographic crowd gave a clap and a whoop.

“ACCEPTING THE MATCH IS-”

Kirk leaned in to say something to her just as the announcer called “TALIA, ‘SHADOWWW’, ALLL-IBRAHIM”, prompting her to pause from bouncing on her toes to lean her ear toward him. “Say again,” she asked, smirking at the grin in his voice. “I asked if you’ve ever fought a Romulan before,” to which she shook her head subtly. “Well, you’re in for one helluva education,” he chuckled. “Watch how she moves, keep your gloves up, and if you make it through the first round,” he shrugged, “we’ll talk strategy.”

Talia nodded, her face set in slightly amused determination. Probably a big if, she thought as she turned to face her opponent; her shoulders rolled and she shook her limbs out again before going back to bouncing on her toes. But I’ve made it through worse than her, she reminded herself. Turning her head slightly to accept the mouthguard, her teeth bit down to settle it into place before taking one last breath. Here we go, she lifted her chin to Medusa, then headed for the middle of the ring.

Valyn too approached the middle of the ring, reaching out her hands to touch gloves with Talia before she retreated to her corner. For a moment, everything seemed to go silent, and much, much slower. She took a deep inhale through her nostrils, drinking in the adrenaline tinged odor of the holodeck. Valyn didn’t have to wait long before she heard what she was waiting for. She opened her mouth, and Sisko slid the mouthguard in quickly, before he fully retreated from the ring.

‘DING DING’

The bell went off and Valyn brought her fists up to guard her face, using her forearms as protection against her abdomen. She pressed forward, closer to the center of the ring. She didn’t bother waiting this time to be struck first, instead she tried to seize the initiative and use the ropes to get Talia into a corner, and force the other woman to react. With her right hand, she threw out a quick jab, intended more to rattle her opponent than cause any true damage.

Talia managed four steps from her corner before her left glove ate the jab. She leaned into it, side-stepping to her left. As the blow withdrew, her right foot slid under her as she pivoted slightly and answered in kind: two quick jabs from her left to try and open up some space for her to keep moving.

Valyn arced her head back as the first jab came flying for her, and even gave a muffled laugh through the mouthguard. Her right foot kept her moving backward for a moment, a quick shuffle as she moved. Then she simply stopped. Her left shoulder rolled back, as if charging up a strike against Talia, but she didn’t strike with the left. Instead, her right hand moved from a guard into a quick cross aimed at Talia’s face. In the same movement, the second jab from her opponent connected with her shoulder, though she seemed to brush it off.

The blur of the cross struck the side of Talia’s face just as her eye closed on instinct. Her weight shifted to her right leg as her body tensed under the impact, rocked to the side. As her balance gave out, the pilot scrambled to recover, tripping on her own feet. The next thing Talia knew she was on her ass, shaking her head as she pushed away from her opponent on instinct. Fuck sakes, she growled at herself - the strike hadn’t been that hard, but delivered with perfect timing to knock her off balance - quicker than she could react. Her eyebrows knitted as she hauled herself up, shaking her head again as she took deep breaths to calm down, ignoring the crowd. Her jaw hurt, but she ignored that too as the ref checked her out. Once he was satisfied, she settled back into stance. “Nice one,” she mumbled through her guard at Valyn as she bounced. That was the same move she pulled on the other guy, Talia remembered, as the ref signaled them to resume.

Valyn let out a few breaths of almost soundless laughter, only obvious by the grin slathered across her face and the jostling of her thorax with each laugh. She offered Talia a hand up off the mat, trying her best to at least be sportsmanlike. However, she quickly gave Talia some room, waiting in her corner for the ref to signal the round to resume. As he did, Valyn moved forward like an angry rhinoceros. If Valyn was going to win the fight, she was going to try to win the fight, she had no intentions of pulling her punches, for anyone that evening. So she did not. She fell forward in a flurry of quick jabs aimed at Talia's abdomen, bringing back her arm to deliver another brutal cross, but in doing so, leaving her own face momentarily unprotected.

As Talia watched her opponent charge in – even as she moved forward to meet her – the amusement drained from her in those few precious beats of her heart; realization dawned, blanking her mind after a solitary thought: She’s not playing.

Beyond the basic combative course taught at the Academy, and the few brawls she’d been sucked into over the course of her life, Talia knew she had no idea what to do. Yet even a cornered animal will fight to defend itself on instinct. Her heart-rate skyrocketed as adrenaline flooded her veins, pupils dilating to pinpricks. Muscles gorged on oxygen and chemicals, set to trembling; ready to fight or run for her life, all in the span it took for Valyn to cross the mat.

Talia didn’t run.

She met her toe to toe, abs flexing as the first stinging jab connected to the rigid muscles just below her ribs. Talia dropped her elbows, even as her eyes narrowed, watching with grim focus. It was the same determined gaze she wore in the cockpit, surrounded by whirling stars and enemy fire; the next jab grazed her forearm as it slammed into her oblique. The next hit square on the meaty ‘v’ of her outer elbow and bicep as her torso twisted to brace, every one a blur. Then she saw the coming cross: the way Valyn’s glove dropped, the way her muscles tensed – that devastating strike already in motion – and locked on target. Arms tensed, throttling up to deliver her payload, Talia willed herself to move through the pain and shot to the side. Instinct drove her to move even closer, as her head swerved, torso shifted; Vayln’s glove still grazed the side of her head and ear. With all the speed and strength in her, Talia’s left cannoned out under her opponent's arm, straight at her exposed ribs. The follow up right was loaded and released an instant later into her gut, then another left. Her feet spread under her, pushing her into this thing that had to die, before she did. Beyond the red tint of her vision, she saw her gloves flying as she weaved, blocked what she could, and took the rest - but she kept fighting.

Valyn felt the force of each impact against her knuckles, cocooned within the soft glove. She didn’t want to really hurt Talia by any means, but she wasn’t going to pull her punches either. A fair fight, was a fair fight, and she had no intention of purposefully putting herself into a position to lose. Time seemed to dilate to the crawl of a snail for a moment as realization dawned upon the Romulan. Her fist she’d aimed straight for Talia’s head, went straight through, connected with little more than air and temporarily leaving her with less than ideal balance. She felt the subtle touch of flesh on her glove…but nothing substantial.

"There we go!" Valyn shouted, muffled by the mouthguard as she took blows to her abdomen. Oh, they most certainly hurt. Each strike was met with an unpleasant, pained wince from the Romulan but she still fought on. She shuffled her feet, almost as if sliding across the surface of the ring before she brought her hands back up, and started to shake off some of the pain, pointing her whole arm as if it was her index finger…and she laughed. Talia was good. She had a fire in her that a lot of officers lacked, in Valyn’s opinion.

The Romulan however, did not relent.

Like a true bird of prey, Valyn slowly circled her opponent, watching her footing, her stance, her gait…everything about her was drunk in for a moment before she took her chance. She flew forward, the bird making its dive down onto its prey. She loosed only one strike, though it was backed by her already vulcanoid strength. The blow was a quick jab, aimed right for a gap in her opponent's guard, hoping to catch her square in the jaw. 

Sheened in sweat, Talia’s jaw clenched as Valyn laughed at her. Adrenaline fueled frustration soured into bitter fury. She batted the glove aside with her own, shifting to the right to strike – but then her face ran into a wall. Vision blurred, and the taste of iron filled her mouth. Everything seemed to fade away; eerily familiar to g-lock. N-no, she strained, as her back hit the ropes; unsure how she even got there. Somehow, she managed to stay on her feet, but her body felt like gelatin, and her eyes watched Valyn closing in.

Valyn really hadn’t meant to laugh at Talia, though seeing the rage pouring off of her, she understood that's how it’d come across. Valyn didn’t press Talia too hard as she fell back against the ropes, on the contrary she gave the pilot the moment to collect herself, and bring herself back into the fight. Instead of laughing, and reveling in the joy of the fight, Valyn called across the ring. She was sure Talia knew what she was doing, but she tried to help nonetheless, taking some deep breaths of her own, letting the adrenaline fill her blood, then nodding at Talia to do the same.

She gave her a moment, but then moved in again. After all, she wasn’t trying to clobber Talia, but she was still fighting to win. After all, she really wanted to get a tour of one of those fighters. Again, she moved forward, this time keeping her guard up a bit more. There was little else more dangerous than a wounded, and trapped animal, and from where Valyn stood - Talia fit both categories at that particular moment. So she moved in a bit more hesitant, throwing a quick, but not too aggressive jab towards Talia. Her face appeared apologetic, but she still fought for victory.

Managing to lean away from the jab after taking a step off the ropes; Talia shuffled to the side to circle back around the Romulan’s right. Whatever else happened, she needed to move, now; to buy time and distance. Throwing defensive, alternating jabs as she went, hissing through her nose and clenched teeth, she tried to keep the Romulan at bay. Three thumps on the mat threatened to distract her as she retreated, back into open territory, but she kept her eyes and gloves up. Knowledge of her body and its limits told her that she was dipping into her well of endurance, but far from done. Even if she were, Talia wouldn't quit until her body did; that was the way she trained, the way she lived.

Valyn didn’t miss the sheer will that was pouring off of her opponent. They appeared to dance in an endless circle, each of them rounding the other and hunting for an opening, if only for a moment. After that moment, the fight seemed to well and truly erupt into a spar. With each strike, Valyn winced, knowing full well that the one that’d struck her face was going to bruise unless she saw medical about it. It already had the familiar throb to it. Valyn kept her guard up, sidestepping to the left in an attempt to deliver another cross, this time aiming for her opponents cheek. The cross though was a feint, instead she utilized her left hand to fire forward another swift jab. Valyn tasted the familiar taste of copper, knowing that by then, her nose was bleeding.

Each of them seemed to be hanging on tight. Valyn allowed a small bit of distance to develop, and watched Talia carefully.

Her glove caught the brunt of Valyn’s jab, driving it back into her cheekbone. Talia’s head rocked back with a grunt of pain, furious at herself for falling for the same trick, again. She was struggling to control her temper – as the seconds stretched into what seemed like eternity. The few strikes she managed to land seemed to do nothing. Most hit nothing but air, followed by blurs of blows to her body, hooks and crosses to her shoulders and face. Blood was in her mouth, dripping into her eye. She was too pissed and stubborn to care. Following the jab, Talia snarled and rushed in, twitching her left for another jab even as her right clenched tight; her eyes locked on Valyn’s briefly exposed chin as she put all the speed she had into the uppercut.

"Fuckin-" Valyn muttered, the woman seemed to have no bottom to her fuel tank. Valyn squared herself up, trying to ignore the various pains that had sprung up across her body, each blow from Talia knowingly leaving a mark on her Romulan flesh. Her nose was bleeding quite rapidly, she could taste the thick ichor in her mouth. While it certainly wasn’t an attractive look, she stepped back for a moment, and spit the fluid into a bucket nearest her corner of the ring, spraying some blood across the corner of the mat. Hers wasn’t the first of the evening, and likely wouldn’t be the last. Her breath was ragged, the pilot having fought for far longer than Valyn had imagined she would. Each time she came toe to toe with a human, she was further surprised by their sheer willpower to overcome the odds, whatever they may be.

Valyn brought up her guard, watching Talia carefully, but obviously - not carefully enough. The uppercut connected with the force of what felt like a torpedo, or a very angry tiger. Valyn stumbled backwards briefly, having had her bell well and truly rung by the human woman. She blinked for a moment, trying to force the stars to leave her sight and sound to return to her ears. It had felt like she’d been fighting for an eternity, catching her feet when she heard it.

‘DING DING’

Valyn immediately moved back to her corner, and collapsed into a stool, reaching towards Sisko for some water, and spitting her mouthguard away as she drank deep. "She’s fuckin’ good." She panted, nodding over at Talia.

Turning from the Romulan, Talia lowered her gloves but refused to drop her head, no matter how much she wanted to. Her right eye was throbbing, already swollen. Muscles trembled, growing heavier than she'd ever known. Muscle failure was nothing new – being sore was a natural state of being to her – but this was degrees beyond that. She waved the stool offered by Kirk away, not trusting herself to sit; opening her mouth for him to pull the guard away, she grimaced as the split inside her lip opened. Bloody saliva trailed down her chin. “You’re doing good,” Kirk offered, holding up a bottle of water to spray in her mouth. “Learn anything,” he asked through a grin.

Talia swallowed a mouthful of blood tainted water, then spit the rest, gasping for air. Her shoulders heaved with the movement. “Yeah,” she panted, “she’s too fucking fast, too fucking strong,” she barked at him, shaking her head. The fragile hold on her temper was frayed, ready to snap.

“Breathe, young lady,” Kirk leaned into her face, pointedly. “Focus. Keep your head – or she’ll knock it off,” he warned her.

Valyn looked at Sisko, letting him rinse out her mouth with the nozzles water bottle before she took another swallow of it pure. "Any pointers?" Her accent drawled out with characteristic Romulan confidence, matched with a grin of equal magnitude.

“Don’t get too cocky. She’s good, she’s a fighter. Don’t let your guard down.” That was all he had to say on the matter, before he grabbed a fresh, unbroken mouth guard and shoved it into Valyn's face, giving her a rather rough slap on the back as she rose to her feet.

‘DING’

The bell sounded off again and the announcer spoke up, “ROUNDDDD TWO!”

Valyn took a deep breath, and again approached the center of the ring, reaching out to tap gloves with Talia if she so wished, and giving her a nod of reassurance. Her brow had a nasty cut to it along with her busted nose, and she could feel the telltale signs of bruising across her body.

Valyn listened to Siskos advice. She held her guard tight, and kept moving, almost showing a ballet with her footwork. She shuffled right, then adjusted to move left, almost bouncing up and down on her feet before she cocked back, and swung. Round two had begun in earnest.

She didn’t wince or grimace as she approached, despite the aches growing to encompass every movement. Talia tapped her gloves to Valyn’s, only then noticing the smudges of red on the blonde’s, green on hers; they were both cut, bruised, bloody. At least I got her to bleed, too, she thought bitterly, perhaps a touch too cold. After backing away, she brought herself up into a ready stance, bouncing lightly on her toes.

Medusa danced around her, projecting an aura of skilled confidence that made Talia bite into her mouth guard. Then the battle was joined again – the Romulan applied pressure, forcing her to block, jab, weave, hook, over and over as she struggled to keep up. Lactic acid burned in her limbs, sweat stung her eyes. Kirk’s warning echoed in the back of her head. Talia grunted under a viciously quick jab to her gut, followed almost instantly by a blow to the head that she didn’t even see coming. All she saw was Valyn’s grin, before everything went red. Her assault started with the body, snarling like a wolf with its jaws around the throat of its prey; or caught in a hunter’s trap.

Valyn used her arm to wipe away some of the rust-tinged blood that had spilled from her capillaries. Valyn was having a good time, and it was evident she was from the excitement that showed on her face. Talia was a good match, and wasn’t just a pushover of an opponent. As Talia moved around her, Valyn gave a quick dodge, moving aside from the jab, but taking the connection from the hook right in her side, letting out a loud grimace as fist connected with rib.

She stepped back slightly, and shook herself off, glaring at Talia. Her grin was gone. While she was enjoying herself, that shock of the strike had grounded and rooted her immediately. She hardly had time to react before Talia came at her like a wild animal. There was little more to do other than try to dance aside, away from the punches, so she changed tactics. With each strike that came her way, she tried to dance aside. With each movement Talia made towards her, she tried to move further, being careful not to pin herself up against the ropes.

She wanted to tire her out.

Her plan though, had to be quick, as she found herself encroaching closer and closer to the ropes on her side. She kept her guard up, taking blow after blow to her forearms, blended with the occasional solid strike to her abdomen or the side of her face. She fought on though, not intending to stop until either she, or her opponent, was on the ground.

She brought back her left arm, and swung, the punch going wide unintentionally, though she followed it up with a quick uppercut from her right, putting as much force as she could behind the strike while still trying not to seriously wound the pilot.

"Hells-" She muttered, again using her arm to brush some blood from her face, and keep it from dripping into her eyes.

Talia's face twisted into a grimace of pain, even as she tried to keep fighting. A sledgehammer had pounded into her liver in the blink of an eye; lifted up on her toes, air driven from her lungs, she managed to take a step backward as her right instinctively dropped to cover her abdomen. The pain was excruciating - all too familiar; unable to breathe, the body refused to obey. Something hard slammed into her again, a harsh sting to the face. Images and sensations flashed in her mind's eye, as gravity pulled her to her knees.

She was back in her childhood home, buried under rubble; to weak to save her mother and sister. Then she was dying on the deck of the Fighter Bay, her broken body bleeding out, as flames filled her darkening vision. It all felt the same.

Blood dripped from her face to the mat. Talia was on her hands and knees, gasping for air that wouldn’t come.

Valyn stopped the instant Talia fell, watching her opponent to see if she rose back to her feet. Her own body ached, her ribs felt bruised, she was certain she had broken her nose, and there was a nasty gash just above her left eyebrow that would need tending to. Despite that however, Valyn stumbled forward, crouched down, and got right in front of Talia, spitting her mouth guard to the side.

"Breathe." She all but ordered her, placing a hand on her shoulder, unsure if Talia was the sort to want that sort of assistance, she did it anyhow. She imitated a deep breath in through pursed lips, and stood by, waving away the referee. "Breathe-" She said again, in a much softer and more reassuring voice. 

Valyn waited with her, until she was ready. If and when she was, the Romulan attempted to assist in wrenching her up to her feet. She brushed her forehead again, the back of her arm well and truly stained with the copper-hued blood of Romulus as she did so.

Talia couldn’t look up, couldn’t do much of anything but fight to stay conscious. A few seconds without oxygen felt like an eternity, but it passed, leaving her gasping between groans of torment. Botches of green adorned the mat, as she blinked through watering eyes. Tears, sweat and blood. She had spit the mouth guard out an eon ago, without even meaning to.
Managing a weak nod, Talia grunted as Valyn helped her off her knees. “Think I'm done for tonight, Medusa,” she mumbled through split and swollen lips, barely able to lift her head.

Valyn let out a scoff, though the laughter caused a fresh twinge of pain up her side, "Medusa? That’s a new one. The multi-headed monster of intelligence." She laughed again, and once more winced, but she kept on moving, helping Talia off the mat, "Why don’t we get patched up?" She hurt, all over, but she still stood, offering herself as little more than a walking stick for Talia to utilize should she need it. 

Talia grunted, but smirked, turning her bruised and bloody face to the blonde. "She was more than just a monster," Talia corrected, then nodded, arm cradled around herself. "C'mon," she agreed, doing her best to help Valyn as much as the Romulan helped her. Kāli's gonna be pissed, she thought with a weary grin.

[Lt (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark) | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy]

@BipSpoon @Dumedion @Nero 

Zark felt a curious mixture of anticipation and doubt as soon as Valyn made her challenge and Talia unlinked her arm to get into the ring.  Talia was strong. Of that, there was absolutely no doubt, but in the end, she was squaring off against a Romulan, and Zark remembered some of her own attempts to straight challenge their cousins, Vulcans, in the past.  Without the freedom of action and room to manoeuvre that a boxing ring imposed, there was a comparative limited degree of cunning one could apply to the fight.  Each contender would have to make it work with their fists, guts, and what advantages their head could come up with.  The medico once again didn't protest, there wasn't any reason to.  A challenge had been issued and accepted, and the safety parameters for such an event were reasonable, mainly she was here to deal with any bloodshed, and Doctor Leux was stirring, so he should be up soon and able to help.

The medic watched with interest as the blonde and the raven haired woman set the terms for the challenge A ride in one of those egg shells?  Quite the prize. and shook her head at the dare devil attitude they two seemed to hold in common.  Zark took her seat at the table next to Hale and waved as Talia headed towards the ring. "Good luck." she called out in general to both parties in the ring and settled in to watch the fight.  Since these two were now known quantities in the ring, this was expected to be a good one.  Sipping her warmer beer caused the Andorian's face to pinch as she pushed the rest away and instead just munched on the rest of the flatbread.

With the announcement and the ringing of the bell, Zark's eyes lit up as Valyn proverbially came out of the gate first.  There was speed and focus, but also a sense of joviality to her.  She was having fun. Definitely a lot more than she seemed to have had against her first opponent. Blue lips pursed in a silent 'oooooh' as Talia took a hit across the head and her ass planted on the mat, and figuratively speaking, it seemed the gloves had come off and the really two went at it.  The combat medic thought that instinctually, Talia was doing well. More of a brawler than Zark would be, but she was aggressive, and all those muscles just weren't for show as she was slammed around the ring; but at the same time, willing to absorb punishment, she was decisively closing and delivering a series of hits that left the Romulan reeling as well.  The maternal medical side of the blue woman was aghast as the two refused to quit and laid into each other hard.  Leather smashing into muscle seemed to echo through the room as sweat, spit, grunts, and soon blood began to fly.  This egged on all the spectators, Zark included, and the rest of her, especially the martial Andorian cheered as the intensity seemed to rachet up with each passing second.  Though Zark had mentally bet on Valyn, there was always good cause to cheer the underdog, and she'd whooped when the Romulan had knocked the Human to the ground earlier, and later two blue fingers went into the owners mouth and a loud whistle blew out when a solid uppercut decisively knocked the blonde on the back foot, only to be saved by the bell.

The Andorian settled back as the two fighters went to their corners and grabbed the warm beer to moisten her throat despite the taste.  It was starting to get that tingly feeling from yelling and she smiled.  The last fight she'd found annoying since it wasn't really a competition and she'd had to do the repair work.  This would be different.  The opponents seemed evenly matched and they were displaying their skills, and more importantly, a test of will.  That made this a show case and any repair work the medic had to do afterwards would be in a good cause.   Smiling at the thought, Zark's subconscious linked with her eyes and began examining the two fighters, cataloguing the various bits she was going to have to fix afterwards, who was going to get her personal attention was up for debate as both were in superficially bad shape.

The bell rang for round two and Zark cheered on lustily for both boxers and whooped in delight as she spotted the smile across Valyn's face.  She was enjoying herself as were others. Oh Damn! was all Zark could think as Talia went for broke trying to really pummel her opponent into submission.  It was a skilled flurry of flying leather, but in the end it was all for naught as Talia's opponent found an opening and knocked out the body's will to continue.  Zark unconsciously bent in sympathy for the pilot as her liver called the rest of the match off and the Romulan quickly went to the downed pilots side to make sure she was relatively speaking, okay. Zark breathed a sigh of relief as Valyn helped Talia up and the medic raised a blue hand to wave to pair over. "Computer, remove ring ropes and put stairs near my position."  Thea complied the request as the two neared and made their way down.  Zark's sense of smell was assailed by a combination of sweat and blood as she moved to support Shadow by her free arm, but that wasn't anywhere near enough to wipe the smile from her face. "Two visits to the doctor in one day Talia, I hope I don't need to set up some sort of frequent visitor program for you.  You did really well.  I'd be happy to have you in a fight with me any day.  Now let's get these beautiful faces put back together."

Zark led the group to the medical enclosure and was surprised to see Doctor Leux up and about, though a bit wobbly.  He seemed more at peace and smiled as business arrived.  The Trill doctor grabbed the discarded tricorder and scanned both fighters before nodding and making his prognosis.  "Brutal, but hardly life threatening and really quite routine.  Miss Zark, you help out Valyn and I'll take care of Miss Al-Ibrahim.  Let's start off with ten ccs Anetrizine."  Zark nodded as she deposited Talia in one chair, and directed Valyn to sit in another.  Dr. Leux took his time to remove the gloves from Talia's hands before snagging the hypospray that was transported in and tapped a few buttons before injecting the tanned woman with a hiss.  The Doctor reset the hypo and tossed it to the medic after she'd removed Valyn's gloves as well.  Zark caught the hypo in one hand and checked the setting before pressing the device to the Romulan's neck.  The blood coming out of her nose was an impediment and the medic resorted to tried and true methods, tearing apart a couple of packages with coagulant laced cotton sticks.  "Now Miss Amarik, just hold still...." and practiced blue hands shoved the two sticks up the Romulan's nose. 

Zark's eyes twinkled at how Valyn looked and a small grin stuck to her blue face as she wiped away some blood then grabbed an autosuture to begin closing some of the external cuts.  In the mean time, Zark began speaking as a way of focusing herself while she worked. "You know, I had to make a mental bet on who would win between the two of you and the odds were in favour of you Valyn, but that was a heck of a lot closer than I thought it was going to get."  The autosuture was shut down as a cut was closed and traded for the dermal regenerator.  Zark started with the battered face and slow steady hands smoothed out the bruises.  A keen eye continued to track the progress of the device as the blotches and marred skin began to return to their regular colour.  Despite looking at Valyn, Zark also talked over her shoulder to Shadow. "Talia, I'd say it's your inexperience that's showing.  If you used your mobility like your fighter, this bout could have gone on for a lot longer, maybe made it more frustrating eh Valyn?" The smile grew at the thought.  "Either one of you thinking of having a rematch?" The Andorian asked as she pulled the cotton swabs out and swapped the regenerator for the autosuture one more time as she pushed Romulan's head back so she could get a better look up the blonde's nose before pointing the device into the nostrils and maneuvering the energy field around the broken vessels.

---

Anetrizine = Anaesthetic.  Amount used is pretty much a pain killer. 

[Ens. Talia 'Shadow' Al-Ibrahim | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @RyeTanker  @BipSpoon
[Show/Hide]As the pain and anger from the fight subsided, Talia struggled against physical exhaustion and the emotional toll. Even as Doctor Leux repaired the damage, her body remembered the trauma; the lingering ache in her chest and ribs seemed to spread like a plague, down into the pit of her stomach. It wasn’t just physical pain. She’d lost her head, when it was just supposed to be fun – she’d let her anger and hurt push things too far. That ache in her belly had a name - it was shame; but also so much more. Even as the pretty Andorian – her name was Zark – had greeted her with a kindness that surprised her, speaking in a calm Talia wished she could feel, the pilot couldn’t bring herself to meet those cerulean orbs. A weak smile through split and swollen lips, followed by an even weaker nod, was all she could give. It wasn’t because of the pain, even though everything hurt; she simply didn’t want to be seen in such an emotional, vulnerable state. She wanted to crawl into a hole and lick her wounds, until the mask was safely back in place.

A cauldron of emotions roiled within her, threatening to burst the thin, crumbling veneer of the ‘untouchable’ Shadow; the face she wore to hide behind, where she felt safe. She lost, but knew she gave her best. People cheered her, yet she made a fool of herself. Losing control felt incredible, powerful, yet it left her feeling hollow, drained, terrified. She enjoyed fighting Valyn, but she’d enjoyed hurting her too. That proved to be the worst of it – something she’d never expected herself to actually feel good about. She had wanted to make the Romulan bleed.For what? For laughing, for enjoying herself? The fuck is wrong with you? All of this and more flooded her mind while she sat, just trying to breathe, to hold on to what little composure she had left. Just...keep it together. Get patched up and get the hell out of here, but you keep your shit together!

“Deep breaths, Talia,” Leux murmured by her head as he tended to the discolored bruises on her face; a calm hand pressed atop her forehead. “Good. That’s good. Just breathe,” he continued, quietly encouraging her while he worked. Talia’s lips trembled in gratitude, but she didn’t trust her voice to speak. She heard Zark’s commentary then, making her choke back something between a sob and a laugh at the thought of a rematch. Willing her voice not to tremble, Talia had to clear her throat, then swallow, before answering; her head turned as much as the Doctor allowed to look sidelong at the Andorian, hovering over Valyn. “Maybe one day,” she grunted, releasing a shaky sigh, “but not tonight.” Above her, she watched Dr. Leux nod his head sagely as he worked, healing the pain he could. An eerie calm came to her then, as she realized what she had to do.

I need to find a trainer.

[ Lieutenant Valyn Amarik | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21| Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @RyeTanker @Dumedion  [Show/Hide]
Valyn helped Talia move off and out of the ring. There was a stream of coppery-green blood coming from a slice in above her eye, right through her eyebrow. The force of one of Talia’s blows must have torn her flesh against her own brow bone. She had to give it to Talia, it was one hell of a punch.

As Arven started to work on Talia, she grinned at him, “You’re up and moving quick.” She reached for one of the fighters buckets nearby, and spit out a mouthful of the same coppery substance into it, reaching for a water bottle from a passing holographic server, rinsing her mouth with it before she took a true drink of the cool beverage. Looking then at Zark, she turned her head to the side to present her bleeding injury. She likely had a few more injuries, but that one at least to her, seemed to be her most prevalent. As two sticks got jammed up her nose, she felt a familiar searing sensation as the coagulant came into contact with the torn capillaries in her nostril. Worst of all though, was that she could smell the medication, and it was pungent.

Her face wrinkled, but relaxed as Zark went to work on her face. “It was a lot closer than I thought too, that pilot has a hell of a punch.” She shouted over to Talia, though her tone was entirely jovial and playful. She’d evidently had a great time. “Not tonight, I’m not. Tonight I’m planning on a nice hot shower, and another glass of ale before I find myself having a hot date with my pillow.” She felt the vessels in her nose closing from the device, and let out a sigh of relief as the stinging sensation began to disappear.

Valyn hadn’t missed the dour mood that had fallen over Talia, and she leaned forward, “Hey, I do mean it, you fought like hell.” She gave her an approving nod, and reached out to offer her hand to her. “I want you on my side if shit really hits the fan.”

Taking a moment to collect herself as Zark continued about her work, she looked Talia over once, “We’re both in one piece, it’s a fight. People bleed, I bleed. She bleeds-“ She thumbed at Zark, “We don’t fight just for shits and giggles, I put this together so we could all let off some steam. If we got any grudges, put ‘em to rest in the ring. You just wanna deck the shit out of some mouthy officer, go for it, so long as they’re in the box.” She pointed to the badge box, “What’s your drink?” She rose a brow at Talia and ushered a server over, “Shot of bourbon, neat. And-“ She tipped her head ever so slightly to the side, looking at Talia, “and you Doc’s, get a damn shot.”

---

OOC: I am so sorry for the delay! I lost track of this one.

[Lt (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark) | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | U.S.S. Theurgy]

@BipSpoon @Dumedion @Nero 

It was slow work getting the bruises and capillaries fixed, but steady work that Zark was used.  She'd treated worse under far nastier conditions, so this was pretty much straight forward.  The skilled hands continued to aim the suture, over the split in the Romulan's skin, then applied a dermal regenerator.  She couldn't do much about the pain, but at least Valyn could walk out with no one generally the wiser that she'd splattered blood all over the place.  "I think I'll take you up on that offer of neat bourbon at some point.  I'm a bit of a glutton when bourbon gets involved and wouldn't mind a how brownie and some ice cream with it."

Zark bent over and began waving the dermal regenerator over the Romulan's torso and arms, gradually erasing the bruises and abrasions.  The medic took a moment to turn to Talia and she smiled.  "I have to agree that you've had enough for tonight.  There's no need to dig that deep just to let steam off.  Not fighting for survival here."  The Andorian tsked for a moment and swapped the regenerator for an auto-suture, then sealed a cut before applying the regenerator once more to clean up the scarring.  "You've got talent, now it just needs some polish.  If you need someone to practice with, just let me know." The medico straightened herself with all her work complete as she locked eyes with Valyn and offered a toothy smile.  "Don't be a stranger and feel free to join me in the ring, or on the firing range."  Zark finished by pulling the coagulant sticks out and tossing them in a pan for Thea to clean up later. "Gotta make sure your time in intel hasn't made your skills rusty."

The Andorian stretched and yawned.  "I think this night is starting to wind down, unless anyone is really drunk and wants a punch up for the heck of it.  Hopefully not, cause I think the idea of a hot date with a pillow sounds fantastic."

[Ens. Talia 'Shadow' Al-Ibrahim | Holodeck 05 | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @RyeTanker @BipSpoon
[Show/Hide]Medusa’s cheerful hollering broke into Talia’s thoughts like the crack of a whip. The pilot nearly flinched, blinking rapidly as her muddled brain caught up; the corner of her lips curled slightly at the praise. Then the Romulan leaned in and set her mind at ease, almost knowing exactly what Talia needed to hear; everyone was okay, and no one seemed upset but Talia, due to her own bullshit. She took the blonde’s hand, tilting her head in a quick nod. “You find yourself in shit that deep,” the dark haired Wolf smirked, “I’ll be there.” Then she nodded again at Valyn's explanation for the event. The purpose wasn’t lost on Talia – she certainly understood the need to vent from time to time.

“Whiskey,” the pilot huffed with amusement, then winced as Dr. Leux placed something cold against her abdomen. She grunted, then breathed out a quick burst of air before continuing. “Then I’m hitting the showers and racking out too,” her nose scrunched up; she smelled like sweat and blood, with a lingering hint of Via’s tequila mix. Zark spoke up next, and Talia tilted her head slightly to give the Andorian her attention. She blinked at the offer to train, then watched as the medic pulled the sticks from Valyn’s nose with a wince. Fuck sakes, she chortled, then thought about what Zark said. Could use all the help I can get, seriously.

“I was just thinking that I could use some help getting ready for that rematch,” Talia smirked at Kali, jerking a thumb at Medusa. “Name the time and place,” she nodded to the Andorian, then arched a brow at the Romulan. “Worried yet,” she asked, keeping her smirk in place, enjoying the events of the evening despite the emotional overload. Maybe one day I’ll do something about that, the pilot mused quickly, but then the drinks arrived, and she was getting pulled out of the chair by the tight-bodied Trill doctor that sounded like he took himself way too seriously. Hm. Wonder when’s the last time this guy had any fun, she grinned, offering him a murmured thanks. “No problem, Miss Al-Ibrahim,” Leux smirked back. 

Drink in hand, Talia offered a toast and nod at everyone, before kicking the shot back. First social event post thawing, complete. Op success.

- FIN

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This thread being old and forgotten, I will lock it, but PM me if you want to continue the scene. /Auctor