NCC - 81102
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Fight Cub aka Security Briefing #1

Posted on Wed Aug 12th, 2020 @ 3:39pm by Commander Magnus Hawkins & Lieutenant Commander Bear Jasper

Mission: Mission 1: Dirty Little Secret
Location: Weapons Training Room 1
Timeline: MD2

Bear had a big dumb grin on his face as he hit the floor, and despite the fact that his shoulders slammed into the hard surface, that grin remained. It was pride, just simple happiness in that moment of seeing the skills of the team beneath him on the Odyssey, and the joys of a decent challenge in training.

He pushed down with his feet and one palm and sprung back upright fast, enough momentum gained from that return action to slam the blade of his forearm hard against his opponent's own raised arm. She rallied, but his lowered fist in her abdomen sent his team member to her knees. She raised a hand, calling for a stop just as the door opened to admit the ship's XO.

"You fought well," Bear advised her. "Extra points for the headlock, too, Lieutenant. Dismissed." He acknowledged Commander Hawkins' presence then, but waited until the door closed behind his officer before greeting the man vocally.

"Magnus, right?" Asked Bear, as he wiped the perspiration from his face with a towel and gave the other man a quick visual appraisal. "Do you spar?" He offered, with a gracious sweep of his hand to the grapple ring that, marked permanently into the floor of the large room, currently surrounded Bear's position.

"Hawkins," the XO corrected. "Commander Hawkins. Magnus was my adoptive grandfather."

There were other matters at hand, but Hawk allowed himself a tight smirk. Maybe it was his Klingon side that perked up at the thought of an impromptu sparring match. That thought was quickly clamped down. Humans were renowned for their warrior traditions just as surely as Klingons, and many were thrice as noble. Yes, there could be a place for a friendly contest.

"And, yes, I do."

Not waiting for the challenge, Hawk unfastened his uniform jacket and shed it to the floor. In just his uniform slacks and black tank top, Hawk fell into a middle stance with his hands upraised.

Already down to gym shorts and a tank top, Bear bided his time quietly while the Odyssey's XO made himself 'comfortable' and ready. It didn't take long, and as he threw the towel to one side, Bear met the other man's gaze.

"Hawkins," he accepted. "Duly noted. Formal it is then, sir."

That swift decision in the affirmative was welcome indeed though, far more than any conversation might have been. This physical means of determining strength, character and fortitude set a simpler and more definitive measure for the recently promoted Chief of Security. Bear's new rank and placement came with an inner need to prove himself.

He bounced into position opposite Hawk, relaxed, warmed up and ready to fight, his gaze locked for as long as the other warrior allowed.

"Warm up round, then three falls or submission?" Bear sought confirmation, with an initial search for fairness.

Hawk nodded with a wry smirk. No warm up for him. This would not be an exercise but a demonstration. "If that's how you want it."

Stretching out his hands, Hawk pulled them back and rested them in front of his chest in a slow, dragging gesture. His exposed muscles were taut but unflexed, showing a completely relaxed posture.

"Ready when you are, Jasper."

He might not have Hawkin's genetic advantage in strength and power, but Bear's confidence didn't seem concerned. He'd literally grown up in a warzone. His talents in fighting were far less formal back then, rooted in a visceral need to survive, and while they'd been supplemented greatly by Starfleet formal training, he felt no need to separate the two.

So, the first move was his, huh? Excellent.

In a fluid motion, Bear turned his body sideways on, right fist raised up, left lower in protection of his belly. He moved with swift precision, a right punch aimed towards Hawkin's face, left staying in defence, and, with a slight delay, kicked out his left booted foot towards the other man's inner right ankle.

Hawk barely moved, but where he did was surgical. In a single motion, his left hand slapped away Bear's fist at the wrist as he sidestepped to the left. All the while he kept his dark eyes locked on Bear's.

Impressive, thought Bear, unwilling to say that out loud just yet. But that was to be expected. Man didn't come with Klingon genes, and an XO position and not be able to fight.

He followed that directional step with Hawkins, as the other man went moved, ducked his right fist down in defence and reached for a wrist lock with his left. Testing, testing. One. Two. Three.

Going limp like a wet noodle, Hawk dropped weight to free his arm and stepped forward in a shoulder shove to push Bear off balance. No attack just yet. He needed to know the man's timing and balance before he could commit to an attack.

With a grimace, Bear stepped backwards involuntarily as Hawkins' weight shoved him backwards. He allowed that move to push him a little further than he needed, giving what he hoped would be a false impression of potential difference in their strength, but also a little extra distance from which to launch his next move.

Weight on his back foot, stepping lightly on his front, Bear moved in a sudden forward rush, both arms up defensively before his face as he did so.

Seeing the tentative approach, Hawk stepped toward Bear, kicked out the knee on his back leg, and pressed his open palm directly into the other man's sternum. With no grounding to support him, Bear had nowhere to go but straight down on his back.

Hawk then stepped backward and assumed a defensive position while waiting for Bear to get back to his feet.

Surprise shone from Bear's face as his left leg caved underneath him, Hawkins' kick catching him at the perfect moment to collapse his stance. His balance followed, that open palm a final punch to Bear's ego and, mouth as wide as his eyes, the security officer hit the floor hard on his back.

Dark skin blushed crimson nonetheless as Bear struggled to regain his upright stance, right palm flat to the floor to aid his momentum, fire in his eyes as he awkwardly jumped back up.

"You got lucky, Magnus," he declared, and this time, waited for the other man to come to him. Partly as he regained that lost breath and partly while Bear's pride rebooted.

"We make our own luck," Hawk retorted, "just as we make our own decisions."

His posture dropped from rigid to fluid as he prepared for the next round. Rather than wait for Bear, this time Hawk pressed the attack. He came in with a spinning roundhouse kick, but at the last second he tucked his aerial foot below his knee -- a feint. Then, with his weighted leg, he sprung up and pumped it into a flying knee aimed straight for the Security Chief's chest.

Bear didn't see the feint until the last second (as obviously was the move's intent). This failure in observation didn't give him enough time to fully avoid said sneaky blow, but he did manage to adjust his position enough to drop his body downwards and take the hit on his shoulder rather than his chest. As their relative position shifted, he gripped both arms about the XO's foot and twisted.

The maneuver twisted Hawk in the air, but rather than resist, he rolled along with it. While his torso twisted around to catch himself in a hard landing, he let his free foot spin around toward Bear's head for a blind heel kick.

Both men hit the ground in a messy tangle of limbs, Hawkins' foot connected with Bear's head just as Bear bounced weightily against the floor which lessened the impact a little but crashed them together like a couple of fighting canines.

Hawk exhaled deeply just before impact, which protected his lungs from the worst of the fall. Breathing deeply, he lurched sideways and rolled atop Bear in search of a loose body part that could be grabbed, twisted, and locked into a painful position.

Underneath in the great shift for recovery, Bear struggled to regain his breath even as he felt Hawk grab hold of his right arm and twist it. The inhale of breath signalled his unhappiness at this development even as Bear reached to smack his left fist hard in the specific direction of the other man's kidney.

The kidney shot sent a bolt of lightning through Hawk's nervous system, simultaneously weakening his attempted hold while also triggering the redundant adrenal system of his half-Klingon biology. With a savage roar, Hawk unleashed not one but three elbows shots to the back of Bear's head from their prone positions.

That fearsome roar deadened swiftly in Bear's ears as Hawk's body pressed down against his side, and caught trapped mid-strike with nowhere to go, he felt two of the three rapid fire hits connect then wavered into semi-consciousness at the strike of the third.

Finally getting the upper hand, Hawk snaked his arm around Bear's neck and locked in a rear-naked chokehold. Once locked in, it would block the flow of air and blood and render Bear unconscious within 10 seconds. As Bear resisted, Hawk locked his legs around the other man's back and forced him to the ground. Both fell into a hard slam with Hawk getting the brunt of the landing. But his free hand clasped with the headlocked arm.

Darkness threatened, but Bear wasn't done yet. The welcome spike of adrenaline as Hawk's next move threatened black-out allowed him a little motion to fight back. He thought, as they rolled, that his weight had winded the XO some in the twisting motion of their bodies, but that arm was tightening about his neck and time was short.

Bear pushed back, drove his skull into Hawk's face as hard as he could muster, then turned his nose towards the other man's elbow to maintain his airway, rolled and bucked hard upwards. Feet planted, thighs and waist taking the weight. Could he drag the half-Klingon back upright?

The reverse headbutt to Hawk's face sent the man's head spinning. Disorientation began to cave in on the sides of his peripheral vision. Hawk fought for consciousness, leaving him defenseless against Bear's retaliation.

Once both men were standing again, though, Hawk felt a new surge of strength fueled by the Klingon rage he constantly fought to restrain. He did not see a fellow Starfleet officer anymore. He saw only an adversary. Hawk's hands thrust forward together inside Bear's guard and then shot upward. With his middle knuckles protruding, he threw a double punch for Bear's throat. After they landed in quick succession, he opened his open hand to squeeze the air from the man's throat, then pulled him into not one, but three savage headbutts of his own. Still holding Bear by the neck, Hawk roared in his face as he picked him up in the air and choke-slammed him back to the ground.

It was like a tidal wave suddenly unleashed against him, the energy crashing into him tenfold as two fists broke through his defences and left Bear painfully short of breath. In that split second of near-panicked air-sucking he kicked out, finding purchase in an immovable stance only briefly before oxygen was totally denied him. Bear fought the internal fear well enough, but the raw strength of his opponent triumphed. Strong arms sought a way out, kept working futile attempts to break that hold, even as Bear's eyes widened and his throat restricted still further.

Headbutt one closed his eyes.

Headbutt two faded the room around him.

Headbutt three brought a muzzy darkness which Bear dimly hoped at least registered something on that hard Klingon skull. He had to feel something in that brutal contact, right?

Then he caught a glimpse right to the back of the other man's throat as his consciousness failed. Were there tonsils back there?

Hanging there like a heavy rag doll, kicking wildly with his last gasp, Bear did not, even then, willingly surrender. Though if there had been any spectator present, as that kicking stopped, they would have been certain now that Magnus had won.

Standing victorious over Bear, heaving deep, adrenaline-purging breaths, Hawk quickly realized how he had truly lost. His valorous, blood-drunk anger quickly turned inward to self-loathing at having lost control.

"Are you all right, Commander?" Hawk asked. He was tempted to summon a Medical Team. Instead he offered a hand to help the other man to his feet.

A shaky arm raised up to grasp the one reaching for him. Bear wasn't too proud to accept help, though the loss burned. Face blood, he pushed against the floor and spat to the ground, fully expecting teeth to follow. "No," he said, eyes closed as the room spun. "M'okay. Gissaminnutt."

Hawk let out a frustrated sigh and tapped his combadge. "Commander Hawkins to Sickbay. I need a med team to weapons training room 1."

They arrived, two of them, one young man, one older woman, and both looked from Hawkins to Jasper with that resigned expression held by medics everywhere when they considered the work they were about to do was unnecessary and virtually self-inflicted.

"What the hell did you two do to each other?" Asked the female medic, as her colleague crouched down and used two fingertips to lift Bear's chin. She regarded Magnus with mild concern, and a definite judgement. "Are you okay?" She asked, her voice somewhat functional rather than worried.

"Security training," Hawk said. "Advanced security training." Looking at Bear who was clearly not living his best life at the moment, he added, "We agreed to preface a security briefing with a sparring match..."

She let the bioscanner trip up and down the Commander's form with no sign of anything that concerned her. "Looks more like you two decided to have a boxing competition," the medic noted, her tone coloured with displeasure. "Does the Captain know about this?"

"Definite concussion," her companion noted out loud as he turned from looking deep into Bear's eyes to facing them. "Minor bruising of his neck and throat. Needs to rest some."

Bear groaned, dragged himself slowly and stubbornly to his feet and grabbed a hold of Hawk's shoulder to stabilise his wobbly stance. "Had worse," he stated, as he wiped his face on his arm.

"If you're up for it, we can finish our security briefing," Hawk said, pointedly ignoring the med-techs. "And then we may brief the commanding officer."

With his free hand, Bear waved away the medic who was still fussing a little too closely for the security officer's liking. "I'm up for it," he stated, but he didn't immediately relinquish Hawk's shoulder. "Just need some water, and somewhere to sit down."

Hawk helped Bear limp toward his office. "Let's make this quick. Inahri is expecting us on the hour."


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