Star Trek: Theurgy

CH04: S [D05|2030] Of Reasoned And Reasonable Debate

June 21, 2018, 11:17:33 PM

Chapter 04: Supplemental [ Day 05 | 2030 hrs ] Of Reasoned And Reasonable Debate

[ Cmdr Ranaan Ducote | Crew Gymnasium | Deck 12 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @patches 

All in all, it had been a short visit to sickbay to check on his injured crew. The crew were het-up about their man in surgery, even stretching to armed guards - dressed for a boarding action, to his eye - inside the surgical bay. Even having seen the recording of the man standing, chatting casually to the collected gang in the brig and admitting his nature, Ranaan wondered if that were a little much. It did mean that his conversation with the few lucid and awake members of the Endeavour/Niger crew were short, however, and mostly conducted over the relatively polite but insistent voices of the less heavily-armoured Security officers outside the clean room as they tried to usher him back towards the reception area. Or rather, the exit.

His crew did at least all confirm that they were as comfortable as might be expected and that they had been well-treated. Still, he couldn't help but append a mental 'yet' to every affirmation. Eventually, as it looked as if he was going to get himself arm-barred and frog-marched back to the brig, he got out of the way of the flustered medical staff and nervous security folk.

After catching up with the senior staff not currently elbow-deep in Câroon, he'd finally accepted some solid advice and retreated to his assigned guest quarters. They weren't large; probably some absent junior rate or other's room. But to Ducote, after most of a week in close confines with a dozen people, and in packed meetings or busy infirmaries ever since, they were positively palatial. He realised, finally, that he was alone with his thoughts.

With his grief.

Ducote sat perched on the edge of the bed, without having bothered to turn on the lights in the room. Everything had been bleached blue and grey by the sickly sapphire light flooding through the wide window, and it had dyed his eyes an even inkier shade of black as he stared at some unseen point beyond the corner of the bulkhead and the deck. His eyes prickled, and the muscles of his jaw twitched as his teeth clenched together, as he thought of the hundreds of faces from the Endeavour. One after the other; a macabre, mocking parade.

He'd saved perhaps a dozen of more than four hundred. The Captain looked after the ship. The First Officer its crew. That was how it was supposed to be. And all he'd done was push a few people towards the escape pods after running madcap through the ship in concern for his own romantic partner instead of the crew as a whole. Concern which Blue hardly needed; she had never needed him to hold her hand, ever. He had utterly, irrevocably failed the scores of people who had depended upon him. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat. He wanted to cry, or vomit. Or both. 

He wondered why he couldn't do either.

It was impossible for him to recall the last time he'd slept. Certainly, it must have been on the Niger. But when? The lights were always on, there was always more caffeine to pull from the replicator, there was always the trail to follow and the last of his crew to shepherd. Straight into the lion's mouth.

Ranaan silenced the traitorous thought, only for another to pipe up. Suicidal plunge into the nebula rather than turning towards Starbase 84. And now working with Starfleet Enemy Number One. Either I want to kill my crew, or myself. No other rational explanation.

A low growl escaped him as he fought against his own brain. On one oddly-detached level he recognised the same symptoms as those following his trauma aboard Starbase 157 - seeing enemies everywhere, the foul temper, the self-recrimination - but his hijacked internal monologue jumped on the new angle and twisted even that against him; hadn't he managed to cry then, at least? In Hadiya's office, in his first counselling appointment with her. He'd barely been able to get the words out. And there he hadn't been in the chain of command for most of the casualties. So why was he unable to express anything now?

"Enraba-me," he spat as he stood and punched a few commands into the replicator on the wall. Obviously, thinking wasn't going to work. Time to regress back into old habits and hope the inevitable insomnia wouldn't drive him insane before he could regain full control of his faculties again. He shook out the replicated t-shirt and sweatpants before changing into them and striding out of the door, a towel thrown over his shoulder with a snap.

It didn't take him long to find the gym. As he walked in, there were several glances in his direction. He could feel some recognition, and some inferred, as a couple of those present realised who he was. Perhaps some of them had been there for the Niger's... entrance. Perhaps others had merely heard of what he'd threatened to do in defence of the last of his crew. He didn't have the energy to care.

The towel was dumped on a nearby bench as he wrapped his knuckles and picked up the heaviest boxing gloves he could find. Once he strapped them on, he gave a few experimental swings to test his new balance before heading over to the heavy bags. A Theurgy crewman, at the bag next to Ranaan's chosen one, looked the bloodshot XO up and down before walking off mid-routine. Super-popular as expected, I see.

He wasn't warmed up, and he was wound tighter than half a tonne of steel cable, but he set up a steady rhythm at the bag. Every so often he would pause to catch the thing and stop it swinging around before starting back up. As he scowled at the black leather in front of him, digging a progressively deeper dent into the padding, sweat began to prickle his brow. The pounding impacts and the heat started to remove some of the tension that had built up over days, but it wasn't exhausting him as he'd hoped. Quite the opposite; he was getting a cross between a second wind (or probably fourth by now) and a runner's high. Just have to keep going, I guess.

Somewhere behind him he heard the doors open and close a few times. They were just at the edge of his blunted, distracted empathy, but the latest entrant did feel familiar. The Trill from the brig, he thought. Tear? Taer. Well, whatever. Maybe he'd get lucky and she'd stay at the cardio equipment or the weight rack or something. Maybe she wouldn't recognise him at all, if no one pointed him out.

Jab. Jab. Cross. Hook. He concentrated on the jingle of the suspension chain and the hum in his joints and the burn in his shoulders as he made every apparent effort to pound the bag flat.

Re: Chapter 04: Supplemental [ Day 05 | 2030 ] Of Reasoned And Reasonable Debate

Reply #1 – June 24, 2018, 08:52:46 PM

[ PO2 Kino Taer  | Crew Gymnasium | Deck 12 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] @Top Hat

Hours of standing guard took a toll on one’s body, even in customized suits designed to make such lengthy times on your feet a little easier. Kino developed a good deal more respect for surgeons, however, after such a length time watching a team of them work tirelessly to repair or patch up the damage done to Nicander’s body. She thought her explosive ordnance disposal skills required quite developed fine-motor skills and dexterity but the skill and care that the new doctor and the doctors she knew exhibited during the surgery was something else. Thankfully, however, she didn’t have to watch it all at once.

A rotation with other qualified Security officers and crewmen allowed her, Eliska, and Varder to all take turns resting. There could be no room for error when it came to high threat, high value targets and it was taxing to be on high alert for longer periods of time. Technically, Kino herself was supposed still be suited up or near her suit but given the news that was passed on to her recently, she was too pissed off to be responsible for a weapon.

I might joke about ideas for blowing up a Cube, but actually going after one? We’re just going to get ourselves killed!

The Trill felt like she needed to work out some of the aggression before her next scheduled rotation in Sickbay. Fortunately, while the main gym was on Vector 1, someone did manage to set up an adequate one on Vector 2 and even better, it was only a deck down from Sickbay. From the other major threat to the ship. Tensions were high and, while it was a familiar feeling to the Dominion War vet, it was an unwelcome one.

Dreadnoughts are not supposed to be main line combat ships in peacetime. This was supposed to be a posting away from this kind of bullshit. Now on top of the arm and leg, I’ve lost a fucking eye because I was in the wrong place at the wrong fucking time.

She had left the exosuit in the Armory, properly checked in along with her rifle and pistol. She would have brought both with her, but with Eliska’s adherence to protocol rubbing off on her and Varder’s briefing on the Cult of Morash or whoever the fuck they were, she couldn’t take the chance even if it meant a slightly longer response time. Kino didn’t intend to stay out for long. The risk was great enough as it is.

Dressed in a fitted tank top and shorts, the Petty Officer walked into a gym that was surprisingly sparse on people. She grabbed a towel to throw over her shoulder and walked over to the punching bags. The reason for some people walking out made itself clear as he gave a punching bag the old 1, 2 and she chuckled darkly in response to the sight. She began using a nearby roll to make hand wraps before greeting the source of at least half of her worries and tension right now.

”I should have known you would find a way to get us all killed after that stunt you pulled in the fighter bay, Commander.” Kino spat out, with extra venom on the mention of his rank. “What’s your endgame here? Score one for ‘Starfleet Command’? Or do you just like having ships blown out from under you?”

Re: Chapter 04: Supplemental [ Day 05 | 2030 ] Of Reasoned And Reasonable Debate

Reply #2 – June 25, 2018, 01:54:36 PM

[ Cmdr Ranaan Ducote | Crew Gymnasium | Deck 12 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @patches 

"Or do you just like having ships blown out from under you?"

The staccato paf and whap of Ranaan's regime at the heavy bag ceased, but for the odd gentle bump as it wobbled on its chain a little and bounced off the front of his frozen glove. At first, he'd rather smugly (and childishly) enjoyed the sensation of Taer's mind knotting in rancour as she got herself ready. But all it took was that final barbed question to start a roaring in his ears as if he were standing in a wind tunnel.

Under it all were Kino's words, the final question playing over and over as it overlapped and got chopped and changed like a badly-edited holonovel, competing with the rising roar that was drowning out the other sounds in the gym. A tightness in his chest reminded him to breathe, and the roar receded. If only it had taken the maelstrom of emotion in his head with it - he had no idea how many of his crew had actually survived. Guilt and grief and sadness and a burning anger fought for dominance over his reaction, despite his attempts to alloy them into something colder and more useful.

After a couple of seconds, he resumed his routine, trying not to think of the people he'd left behind, or sent ahead without being able to catch up, and praying the Borg hadn't found them before any relief ships did. An escape pod had a single-use warp booster that could carry it an AU or so away from danger, but that was a trivial distance for a Cube to cover. The thought that the chances were about even between never seeing his fiancée again and seeing her on the other side of having gone through an assimilation matrix was, frankly, terrifying. But he still couldn't bring himself to think too hard on it, so concentrated on sequestering it away for later. Again.

Ranaan managed to get to a point where he felt he could trust himself to speak again; he had forced his inner turmoil to present itself outwardly as a cold fury. Not ideal for a discussion, but at least something he could direct. And how dare she try and pin the Endeavour on him like that, anyway. It had been his home and family!

"Get your head out of your ass and think for a moment, Spots," he returned without looking over his shoulder at her, his voice harsh as he continued punching the bag. "If the Cube had gone back to its origin it would have assimilated the survivors on the Niger on the way past. We have to-" he paused as a heavy strike nearly jarred his shoulder because of his distraction, "- ah, have to find where they came from. If it's a vanguard or a wide-open transwarp conduit."

The hybrid straightened and rolled his shoulders before stepping forward to catch the swinging bag. Then he turned to regard the slender Trill a few metres away. His eye lingered on the faint line around her upper right arm - a prosthetic, perhaps? He met her eye again, his own obsidian gaze as hard as flint. He was breathing deeply, if not heavily, and his t-shirt was clinging to the sweat on his chest. The veins on his arms stood out after his exercise - while he wasn't quite as defined as he had been when he still trained for competitions, he hadn't lost much of the muscle mass either.

"You carry yourself like a veteran. So I'm sure I couldn't possibly assume you were trying to weasel out of doing the right thing like some sort of coward."

There was a shift in the gestalt of the room at that, and one wouldn't need a Betazoid's empathy to sense it: the other Theurgy crew present bristled at the (very) thinly-veiled accusation. Fuck'em. She wants to pick a fight, let her.

Re: Chapter 04: Supplemental [ Day 05 | 2030 ] Of Reasoned And Reasonable Debate

Reply #3 – July 05, 2018, 01:08:02 AM

[ PO2 Kino Taer  | Crew Gymnasium | Deck 12 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] @Top Hat

As she watched his reaction to her barbed insult, Kino felt a brief flash of guilt in her smoldering anger and resentment as it obviously cut very deep from the way his entire body froze. It promptly vanished, though. Perhaps she exaggerated it a bit on purpose, but her reputation among the crew for a volatile temperament was built on factual stories behind broken bones and missing teeth passed around among those daring enough to challenge or offend the demolitions expert. As he picked up the pace against the punching bag again, she finished up wrapping her hands and tested out a few punches on a nearby bag. It was satisfactory, though she ended up tightening the one on her left hand slightly.

He finally spoke and the Trill bristled at the nickname he chose for her. If he wanted to call her Spots, she was going to damn well make sure he saw spots at the end of this. She studied the officer carefully as he told her that the Borg would have assimilated the Niger on the way back and how they had to find out where it came from.

 It was clear the man was a boxer, though the lack of definition of the muscles spoke of one that didn’t keep up a regular training regimen. Kino knew in an out and out battle of strength, she would lose. Her physiology simply didn’t allow for the sheer amount of muscle most males could put on without dedicated, extensive training, a tailored diet, and supplements. By no means was she weak, however, and her slender frame was packed with wiry muscles of her own. Strength didn’t come just from muscles, she knew.

"You carry yourself like a veteran.” He told her after taking a moment to look her over. She noticed his gaze on her prosthetic arm and smirked. “So I'm sure I couldn't possibly assume you were trying to weasel out of doing the right thing like some sort of coward."

Kino looked at him with a raised eyebrow, then started laughing.  Calling her a coward? Doing the right thing? It prompted flashbacks to others she met during her career, mostly men that talked a far bigger game than they could deliver.

“You seem very sure that this is the right thing to do. That we’re bound by some sort of moral code to jump straight to the suicidal option of personally tracking down the Borg while we’re being hunted by the same people that would otherwise watch our backs. I thought the Academy was supposed to turn out people who can think it through.” She shook her head slowly before meeting his obsidian gaze with her own blue eyes, the cybernetic one’s pupil not quite matching the narrowed natural pupil. “I’ve served and fought with people that spoke and acted like this. So which is it? Are you a glory hound, seeking death by combat, or just plain stupid?”

Re: Chapter 04: Supplemental [ Day 05 | 2030 hrs ] Of Reasoned And Reasonable Debate

Reply #4 – July 10, 2018, 10:45:49 PM

[ Cmdr Ranaan Ducote | Crew Gymnasium | Deck 12 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @patches 

On one (distant) level, he had to give her credit; she was disinclined to back down. Ducote suspected she might be halfway stubborn as him. Still, though, the careerist in him (and, though he would never admit it even to himself, his father's influence) found her train of thought somewhat lacking. Though he gave her the credit to assume she was aware of the hole she was leaving in her arguments, and was merely framing only one side of it in order to get a rise out of him.

And, O wise one, you're giving it to her.

The part of his brain that appreciated her bullheadedness was idly replaying several memories in parallel - the seemingly interminable diplomatic meetings he'd sometimes been privy to as a child as his mother 'played the game', as she called it. The little tricks he'd seen her deploy over the years, the subtle methods of coercion and suggestion that made it seem as if your opponent came to your way of thinking all on their own rather than having been steered into it by you.

He'd even managed to use some of those methods on the Endeavour, and earlier in his career, too. Right now, though, after literally-only-God-knew how many hours awake, he had all the subtlety of a slice of lemon wrapped around a large gold brick. Wouldn't mind a Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster right now, eith-

"If I were suicidal, I'd have opened the antimatter bottles aboard the Niger between you lot EMP'ing the thing and beaming us out." He gestured vaguely with one gloved hand, which was all the oversized mitt would allow anyway. The movement was slowed somewhat by the extra kilo wrapped around each hand; his fault for choosing the heaviest gloves, he supposed. "And: yes, it is the right thing to do. I'm not sure why else you think I'd take that shitheap of a runabout into the Azure Goddamn Nebula otherwise."

At some point, probably around when his voice had risen into more of a parade-ground bark rather than exasperatedly raised voice, he'd also moved to within arm's reach of the Trill petty officer, one hand 'pointing' towards her face, though not quite actually up in it. He didn't really remember moving.

"And, because you didn't go to the Academy, Spots, I'll forgive you not knowing quite the sort of things they teach there. I'll spare you the flowery language, and summarise: doing the right thing is essential - but is almost always not the easiest thing to do. If you're lucky, it at least won't be dangerous. Unfortunately, this particular task happens to both be dangerous and difficult."

The lights in the room seemed brighter, the colours of Kino's face more saturated as his pupils dilated thanks to his building adrenaline. Not that his black irises made it very easy at all to spot.

"Are you not up to it?" His glove made a dull thumping noise as it prodded the top of her sternum, just under the point at which her collarbones met. "If even a quarter of what I've been told today is true, how dare you say that we shouldn't do this, for the sake of the Federation? On this ship, of all places?"

The noise around them had ceased a couple of minutes ago. Every pair of eyes still in the compartment watched them. From some he sensed a simmering hostility; others a dark, anticipatory amusement. One pair whispered the terms of a bet to each other. Ducote didn't care.

He held Kino's eye.

Re: Chapter 04: Supplemental [ Day 05 | 2030 hrs ] Of Reasoned And Reasonable Debate

Reply #5 – July 28, 2018, 09:28:07 PM

[ PO2 Kino Taer  | Crew Gymnasium | Deck 12 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] @Top Hat

Opening antimatter bottles? Really?

Kino scoffed as the Commander spoke and shook her head slightly. She straightened herself, fists at her side as she registered the change in vocal tone, volume, and how close he was getting to her. Not only was he talking down at her but her personal space was now being violated. He was going to learn today, she was sure of that.

Her eyes narrowed as her body sensed a fight coming and started pumping out adrenaline. She could feel the muscles in her arms and legs start to tense in anticipation and her vision focused entirely on the threat: Commander Ranaan Ducote. The rest of the room no longer mattered, if the peanut gallery mattered at all.

“Are you not up to it?” He demanded to know, his glove finally making contact with her sternum. "If even a quarter of what I've been told today is true, how dare you say that we shouldn't do this, for the sake of the Federation? On this ship, of all places?"

Fucker.

The Trill barely allowed his last word to finish before she moved, the tension in her arms released in a blur as she grabbed his wrist with her cybernetic arm and used her biological left arm to push his extended elbow up to twist his arm around to his back. She followed it up with a kick to his left knee in an attempt to force him to the ground.

“We’re flying a third of this ship with less than a third of the crew, and you really think a suicide run on the fucking Borg is the right thing? You really must be fucked in the head.” Her voice was a loud whisper, hissing between gritted teeth. “And. Don’t. Touch. Me. Again.”

Re: Chapter 04: Supplemental [ Day 05 | 2030 hrs ] Of Reasoned And Reasonable Debate

Reply #6 – August 02, 2018, 07:54:16 PM

[ Cmdr Ranaan Ducote | Crew Gymnasium | Deck 12 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @patches 

Even with his empathy to warn him of an attack (despite not being able to give him any real detail), he was too tired - or she was too fast for him - to avoid getting his wrist snagged and twisted. His own fault for offering his arm, he supposed, in that peculiar dilated perception of time one experiences in a fight. The best he could do was to loosen his balance to avoid being caught flat footed as the pressure in his shoulder increased. He recognised the manoeuvre, taught to Security staff the Fleet over. It was one of the few that were effective on almost all humanoids, their body mechanics being what they were, as once the victim was fully engaged in it their own strength would work against them.

So, he had to avoid the full lock.

The foot in the back of his knee was unhelpful, as his leg buckled, but he escaped hitting the deck by leaning towards his other leg and keeping both bent. Given how much it strained his back he suspected he'd be stiff in the morning. As if I'll get off that lightly. But while she was behind him, he guided his arm further over than she was aiming, in order to get his other hand in the way. The giant mitt on his hand meant it wouldn't be easy (if at all possible) to get his thumb over his wrist, so he had to use his other hand wholesale to prevent her lifting his arm into position.

He heard her words, and keenly felt the sentiment behind them, before using his superior strength to wrench his arm out of her grip. His balance being what it was meant that he missed his kick aimed back at her foot to distract or unbalance her, but his now-free elbow snapped back to fish for her face... catching nothing but air. As they got into the fight, a couple of the remaining Theurgy folk whooped and yelled. "Ha! He's really gonna go for it!"

Ducote spun to get her in view again, one long arm stabbing out to catch her as she swayed back. Except she wasn't there either, leaning away or otherwise, and he looked down too late to get out of her way as she speared him in the midriff with a heavy tackle, one arm hooking under his leg to pitch him onto his back. The detached, analytical part of his brain reflected that 'weaker than him' by no means meant 'weak'. No surprise due to her obvious level of fitness, but he had let himself overlook it for a moment - which was all she needed.

The impact with the deck drove the air out of his lungs with a grunt, and he dodged cracking his skull open on the corner of a weights bench by centimetres. Not that he had much of an opportunity to think about his near-coma experience, because he barely managed to get his forearm into a guard in front of his face before Taer's fist slammed into it. Several more followed the first, forcing him to concentrate on blocking them, and frequently enough that he couldn't get a clear opening. Fucken... gloves.

"Ha haaa, get'im, Kino!" someone called.

You can fuck off, too.

He decided to just take a punch if he had to, and hammered another cross towards her face. Her fist glanced off his shoulder as his arm took a shorter route between them, and it forced her to lean away this time. The movement put her centre of gravity over his knees, though, and he planted one foot on the deck and catapulted her over his head with his other leg. He heard swearing in Trill (not wearing his UT, he didn't understand them explicitly, but he hardly needed to be an empath to know what they meant) as a series of metallic clangs announced the collapse of the weight rack, the various grav-bars ringing sonorously as they met the deck. Ducote didn't get to see the mess though, being preoccupied with picking himself up off the floor at the time.

The dark-haired hybrid stepped back as Kino regained her feet, tearing the binding strips of his gloves open with an echoing rip. The mitts made satisfying 'paf' noises as they hit the deck without rolling. Ducote cracked his gauze-wrapped knuckles before settling into an easy guard. Now that he didn't have the weight of the gloves on his hands, his arms felt light as air, but the chief benefit was that he wouldn't be as constrained in the techniques available to him.

"What else you got, Spots?" he asked, beckoning twice with his forward hand.

Beyond Taer and the scattered weight rack, Ducote saw one of the onlookers lean towards the person nearest him, and 'whispered' loudly enough for everyone to hear.

"Can I cancel my bet?"

Re: Chapter 04: Supplemental [ Day 05 | 2030 hrs ] Of Reasoned And Reasonable Debate

Reply #7 – August 20, 2018, 01:05:33 AM

[ PO2 Kino Taer  | Crew Gymnasium | Deck 12 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] @Top Hat

The throw had surprised her, but her instincts had still kicked in to help her minimize injuries as Kino collided with the weight bars. Thankfully, the angle meant she could avoid a hit to the torso, but it was going to leave a nasty bruise on her left arm and upper thigh. Her curses heralded her return to standing, slightly unsteady at first.

He's stronger than the flab suggests.

She chuckled darkly at Ducote's challenge and the loud whisper of canceling a bet. Apparently, the Trill wasn't the only one amused by it. She fell into a ready stance and studied her opponent for a moment, barely registering a soft laugh and voice that loudly replied to the other.

"Yeah well, maybe you shouldn't have bet on him. Didn't she kick your ass last year?"

"Oh, there's definitely more where that came from, Ducote." Kino called out with a smirk. "Why, you want to give up already?"

There's the ghost of training in his fighting. Boxing? Need to close in.

Using her characteristic speed that her body offered her, Kino released the tension in her legs to close the distance to his right side. She leaned in with her left side as if to deliver a kick to his groin, but she instead shift back at the last [[instant]] to her right side to sweep at his knee with the blade of her right foot. He turned to counter the groin kick, but that just opened him up more for the leg sweep. The impact managed to knock him to his knees, a grunt informing her of his surprise. Her follow-up was just as swift - her cybernetic arm striking at the back of his head to deliver a telling blow that would hopefully knock him out of the fight entirely.

Except ... it didn't connect like she expected. Instead of bone, her hand connected to softer tissue. Kino's mind barely registered the difference before she stepped back at an angle to avoid any counters and put distance between the two. She ended up near one of the punching bags away from the weight racks and cautiously regarded the Betazoid hybrid, the ghost of her earlier smirk on her face. He was recovering, it looked like.

"I'm just getting started. Are you always this slow?"

Re: Chapter 04: Supplemental [ Day 05 | 2030 hrs ] Of Reasoned And Reasonable Debate

Reply #8 – August 27, 2018, 04:42:57 PM

[ Cmdr Ranaan Ducote | Crew Gymnasium | Deck 12 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @patches

"... Why, you want to give up already?"

He simply snorted in response, picking up the same change in her demeanour that had come before she had attempted to pin him. Kino darted off to one side, circling in towards him as he kept her in view. Her eyes held his the entire time - no easy ways to gauge her target until it happened. Almost as if she's a professional or something.

Her weight shifted and his hindbrain decided the most likely next thing to come would be a sharp toe-poke in the groin despite his forebrain arguing for patience. But still - he flinched. Ducote twisted to spoil the target, and played right into the other foot aiming at the back of his knee. "Fff-" he allowed, as his bent leg smashed into the (thankfully rubberised) deck. Had it been bare alloy, that would have been it. Fractured patella, instant yield, someone-please-help-me-to-sickbay. Even then, it didn't feel as if it would take long to become a wonderfully  colourful bruise.

Half-expecting a turnabout as he had been, he was quick enough to get his other foot under him and start trying to rise, right as a stinging impact across his shoulders sent him falling forwards again. Catching himself with a hand to avoid a broken nose, he looked over as her mental impression retreated. She was a few metres away - this time, nowhere near the weight rack. One of the onlookers was already righting the frame and replacing the bars, checking that the reactive grav-units on either end hadn't had their controls damaged.

"I'm just getting started." Ducote, back on his feet, started walking towards her as she bantered back. "Are you always this slow?"

This time, he didn't reply. He simply advanced, as Kino backed up at a slower pace so that she could control the engagement. It was frustrating to know that there was little he could do about that (particularly given that his knee was already beginning to protest; a bad sign), but he would deal with it. At any rate, neither of them was yet ready to call it quits.

To prove the theory, she sprang forward again, with just enough time for Ducote to brace into a guard to receive her. His arms still weren't quite used to the absence of the gloves, so it felt as if his hands weren't even there, his shoulders still tight after supporting the extra weight for so long. Kino came low, though, aiming for his back leg. Naturally, the one that had hit the deck.

Rather than twist away again, or try to sidestep someone so obviously more agile than him, he lengthened his stance, leaving his fore foot where it was and forcing her to extend. She expected the stinging elbow that came her way, parrying it with a push behind his arm to get it past her head without contact. What she didn't expect, as her kick turned into a long step onto the deck, was his other hand grabbing a fistful of the front of her shirt with his off-hand as he drew back up to his normal height. He detected no particular alarm though, and certainly no panic - just a note of mild surprise, then back to calculation from the Trill in his grip as her hands grasped his wrist and the ball of his thumb. That was fair enough. How about a closer look?

With no flourish at all, Ducote went for a headbutt - this time eliciting somewhat more of a startle reaction, and she reflexively tried to turn her head away just before impact. The peak of his forehead slammed into the brow over Kino's prosthetic eye, and as she reeled from it he pushed her away from him. She blinked rapidly as she staggered off-balance into a heavy bag, but by the time he managed to follow her over there, she was able to neatly pirouette out of the way of the flat punch he laid into where her head had been against the bag. The chains rattled and tinkled as it bounced after the impact.

Someone in the audience said, "Oh, damn."

This time though, he wasn't afforded any time to regroup. She flew at him like a fury, alternating between attacking him high to pull his guard up and going for his knee again. He retreated as she came, the only option remaining to him if he was to have enough time to get his blocks in the right places. As was inevitable, though, she finally caught the side of his knee with a kick that seemed to come out of nowhere, and it buckled under him. Now that he was on one knee in front of her, one hand reaching down his thigh to prod at his joint as he swore, he saw out of the corner of his eye as she dropped her centre of gravity to hammer another kick into him.

He had enough time (and, by dint of circumstance, a well-braced position) to catch the foot with both hands before it could hit him in the temple, the meat of his forearm along her shin to spread the impact out. The energy of it still rocked him to one side as he absorbed the blow - stretching the intercostal muscles around what he suspected was a couple of cracked ribs after her flurry - but now he had her foot by the toe and the heel.

"No way," declared another unseen voice. "Can I put my bet back on?"

Ducote twisted it, aiming for a pin at best or perhaps a damaged knee of her own for Kino to deal with. Either of which might have happened had she resisted the movement - but she added to it, kicking off the deck with her free foot and spinning not just to avoid damaging the connective tissues in her leg but to finish the kick she had started. Only now, with his strength adding to her momentum.

Well, shit.

There was a flash of white and the taste of copper as her shoe connected with the side of his face near where his jaw connected to his cheekbone, and he went sprawling. He coughed as his damaged ribs rolled over the deck, coming up onto all fours and probing the inside of his mouth with his tongue. Somehow, no loose teeth.

"Alright, pay up."

"It's not over."

"Of course it's over; did you not see what I just saw-"

"He's getting back up."

"You gotta be kidding me."

Breathing heavily, the Brazilian hybrid turned to face Kino again. His face was a mask, simply watching her as she finished getting to her feet as well. This time, though, he came to her. Fighting defensively led to a defeat by attrition - she was younger, fitter, and better-practised than he. He might not match her speed, but he had the reach, and he managed a feint that left her footing wide open. Crouching low (and ignoring the internal scream from his knee), he knocked her feet out from under her with a nasty swipe from his unhurt leg.

Not relishing the idea of Kino rolling out of the way of another punch and letting him break his knuckles on the deck, he grabbed one of her ankles instead and heaved her off in the direction of the open mats along one bulkhead, grunting as his ribs joined in with screaming at him. There was a difference between throwing someone to the ground and at the ground, and this was definitely of the latter category. Even rolling to absorb the landing, she landed heavily.

Straightening with some effort, he called over as he followed. His voice was a little thick with both its habitual gravel and a swelling cheek.

"Slow enough, Spots?"

Re: Chapter 04: Supplemental [ Day 05 | 2030 hrs ] Of Reasoned And Reasonable Debate

Reply #9 – September 13, 2018, 06:07:32 AM

[ PO2 Kino Taer | Crew Gymnasium | Deck 12 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] @Top Hat

Kino really enjoyed fighting. It got her blood going, kept her hand to hand skills up, and most importantly, it was just really, really fun. During training and the Dominion War, it was Eliska that most often provided a moderating influence on the Trill’s predilection for resolving conflicts through fights in bars, the barracks, and once, during a meeting with her commanding officer. Eliska had learned how to leash Kino’s temper, sometimes through a healthier outlet for her temper and sometimes simply through reminding her that the fight was not a good option to take.

Once Ducote head hit hers, it set off a wave of incredible pain radiating from the still tender eye socket. The cybernetic implant was sturdy enough not to show any obvious signs of damage other than a moment of static right after the hit, but the flesh around it was still sore from the surgery just days prior. Instinct mandated retreat, which she almost drunkingly managed to do before hitting a punching bag. Thankfully, Kino was able to recover enough in time to see his punch coming, her pirouette taking her out of harm’s way. The sound of his fist hitting the bag was enough to finish shifting back to fighting mode.

With a slight change – she was pissed now, which became quickly very evident to the others through the relentless nature of her renewed offensive. Her mind and focus sharpened to the pinpoint objective of finishing this fight for good as quickly and brutally as possible. Ducote’s defense was better than earlier in the fight, but Kino finally managed to get in the second kick to his knee, bringing him down once more. Unfortunately, he seemed to expect the follow up in time to grab her foot.

Fucker is learning.

She adapted to the twist, this time connecting solidly with Ducote’s jaw. She rolled as she landed, taking a moment to recover her breath. It was time she wouldn’t normally take, but surely, surely, that knocked the larger man out for the count. She was taken aback with him standing again as she got back up.

He doesn’t know when to quit, I see.

He took the initiative this time, giving Kino fewer openings for an attack or even to counter. Although slower, his reach meant he could force her far enough back to be safe. She was warier now after being caught twice, which also played a role. So she defended against his advance, easily enough avoiding hits until that fateful moment when she fell for a feint. Ducote wasn’t dumb. He took full advantage of the opening to sweep her feet from under her and the next thing Kino knew, she was violently reacquainted with the floor. Rolling the landing took some of the sting away, but the Trill knew she was going to be feeling that the next day.

“Slow enough, Spots?” taunted her opponent.

There was the faint taste of blood in her mouth, but a quick inspection as she slowly got back up didn’t indicate anything serious. Kino figured she must have bitten her cheek. As Ducote approached her again, she took a defensive stance for only a moment before attempting to turn him back on the defense. Fatigue might be settling in still, but she was an experienced fighter and could tell she could still comfortably outlast Ducote right now – assuming she could avoid being slammed into the ground like that again. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the crowd was getting restless.

“How is she still fighting after that throw?”

“You know she’s taken on Jem’Hadar before, right?”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, she’s not just some bomb tech. From what I’ve heard, she spent almost the entire war on the ground. One of those fancy exosuit types.”

“Damn, no wonder.  Like Bremmer. What about him?”

“Fuck if I know. Definitely stubborn as hell, though. I’ve never seen anyone last this long against Taer. He’s got to have had some serious training in the past.”

“Oooh, wow. Did she dislocate his shoulder?”

“What? Oh, no. It looks he managed to avoid that.”

“And she’s learning too. Did you see that feint? Double the bet or nothing?”

“Ha. You tried to cancel your bet earlier, so no.”

“Uh, guys… You two know this isn’t a friendly bout anymore, right?”

“And?”

“Might want to stop them from killing each other, maybe? Less paperwork, more people on our side and so on?”

“Be my guest, but I’m not going anywhere near those two. She’s pissed and he’s clearly getting into his groove.”

“Fine.”

During one of the rarer moments when there was distance between the two fighters, there was suddenly another Trill and two humans that attempted to grab her before she could charge in again. One of them doubled over after she used him as a punching bag for her foot, but his place was taken by a Vulcan that pinned her down from behind. Two others walked up to Ducote, placing themselves solidly in front of him.

“Sorry mate, we gotta end this now before there’s more blood spilled. You need medical? You took some nasty hits.”

Meanwhile, Taer’s predicament sunk in for her and she stopped struggling long enough for them to let go. She didn’t bother saying anything, the look on her face enough as she pushed them aside roughly to get to her towel and stalked out of the gym.

“But what about the bet?” cried out a dejected Bolian.

Re: Chapter 04: Supplemental [ Day 05 | 2030 hrs ] Of Reasoned And Reasonable Debate

Reply #10 – September 17, 2018, 11:28:50 PM

[ Cmdr Ranaan Ducote | Crew Gymnasium | Deck 12 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @patches

Once Kino was back on her feet, she wasted no time in getting back into it with him. He found her enthusiasm infectious, het up as he was himself, and now that she wasn't dancing away he found himself able to get a little more work done than he had so far. But he had to (grudgingly) admit that she was still controlling the fight; more often than not, he hit her where she wanted to be hit, rather than where he wanted to hit her. And that didn't mention the toll she was extracting from him at all.

She was still focusing on his damaged leg, meaning he had to keep shifting to make sure she didn't get it and, again, ceding control of the engagement to her. The Trill managed to catch him with a vicious toe-poke in the side of his knee that send him to a kneel again, but he forced himself up on his other leg and used the momentum to land a nasty gut punch that opened the distance.

And then the peanut gallery decided enough was enough. The lithe blonde disappeared behind a wall of gym-goers with their hands up, pushing him back. Ducote hobbled backwards, unable to stand his ground on his injured leg even if he'd wanted to. Their reasserted presence reminded him that they hadn't actually been trying to kill each other.

In theory.

"Sorry mate, we gotta end this now before there's more blood spilled. You need medical? You took some nasty hits."

Ducote sank gingerly down onto a bench, drenched in sweat and already feeling about twenty years his senior. His first instinct was to banter about not being the only one to take some nasty hits, but was timely interrupted by someone tossing him a bottle. He pulled the cap and squirted the water into his mouth, grimacing as the cold liquid stung the tear inside his cheek. It did at least clear most of the taste of copper from his mouth, though. He sighed, between sucking down gulps of air, and nodded. Pride wouldn't serve him now. 

"Yeah. She cracked some ribs, I think. And any more hits to my knee and I'd be needing physio..." he said, as he watched her leave. A force to be reckoned with, for sure. Well, at least she started taking me seriously towards the end there.

Stretching out his leg, he winced as his knee groaned. "I don't suppose I could impose on one of you to help me to sickbay on this leg?"

A look was shared, a shrug, then one of them reached down to haul Ducote to his feet. "Why not. You wouldn't be the first idiot to think he could take on Taer."

"Hey- well, that's probably fair."

Ranaan slung his arm over the man's shoulder, and the pair followed Kino out of the doors at a somewhat slower pace.

---

FIN