NCC - 81102
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Second Rule of Fight Cub

Posted on Tue Mar 2nd, 2021 @ 8:50pm by Commander Magnus Hawkins & Lieutenant Commander Bear Jasper

Mission: Mission 1: Dirty Little Secret
Location: Weapons Training Room 1
Timeline: MD14

Adopting a ready position across from the Odyssey's XO, Bear looked worried. The sense of instant victory had gone, that grin wiped from his face and the security officer was caught somewhere between 'Is he faking it?' and 'Oh fuck what did I do?'

"My brother taught me that one," Bear said, conversationally as he waited to see if Hawk was coming back fighting or calling it here. "He called it the Tactical Nuke."

Hawk rolled to his stomach and pressed himself to his feet. How had he not seen that coming? For the son of a Maquis, he had to admit Bear was both quick and cunning.

"I can see why." Hawk popped the crick out of his neck and fell back into position. "By the time you see it coming, nothing left but the crying."

The half-Klingon threw out a light jab to test Bear's timing. "If I were a sneak-thief, I'd probably surrender before risking a repeat of that." Another two jabs, one from each fist, and then Hawk stepped in with an uppercut from his elbow.

"Gotta have some moves or I'd be long dead by now," Bear said lightly, keeping his full attention on Hawk as the man pitched back into the fight. Last time, Hawk had almost literally wiped the floor with him and Bear didn't intend to repeat the experience.

He batted away that first jab, ignored those casual words and countered twice before turning Hawk's elbow away with the blade of his forearm. Even trade, just getting a feel for each other's potential secrets.

Hawk leveraged the close quarters to press his advantage with a rising knee strike against Bear's sternum.

Bear ducked, off hand low while his right aimed high in a strong feint, and that left caught knuckles against the inside of Hawk's knee and wrenched sideways.

Once more Hawk found himself dropping weight to stave off the full impact of Bear's attack. This was not his day. He needed to get his head back in the game. Instead he got planted on his face. Punching the ground, Hawk jumped back to his feet, determined to win without letting his Klingon rage from getting the better of him again. That would be no victory, at least not for him.

He attempted something different -- an aerial roundhouse -- but Bear was already out of range. A toe nicked the other man, which did nothing but fumble Hawk's landing. He nearly stumbled when regaining his footing.

Caught by an attack of the big dumb grin, Bear staggered backwards in sync with Hawk and watched to see if his fight partner levelled out. "You okay?" He asked, genuinely, the chuckle wrapped around his words likely not helping Hawk's mood any. "Too much caffeine or not enough?"

But that unbridled humour and drop in concentration left him wide open...

While Bear was delivering his quip, Hawk threw a left cross that connected -- finally -- which he followed up with an instep and right uppercut to the chin. Not quick or flashy, but at least it landed.

In an odd way, that smack to the face made Bear feel better. At least initially. He'd been starting to worry that he'd given Hawk a concussion, but maybe they both just had minds full of other stuff and their focus was off. Either way that hit jarred his teeth, causing Bear to momentarily let down his guard while he rubbed his jawline.

Defences went up as Hawk followed up, but the security officer was already on the back foot. Too slow.

Stepping forward with both fists held to his chest, Hawk drove his weight into Bear. His fists pushed out in a double corkscrew punch.

It hit, hard. An 'oof!' of an exhalation of breath accompanied Bear's recoil a few steps backwards under the weight of the half-Klingon's attack, his expression pained. "Good hit," he complimented, adjusting his footing to bring himself back into close proximity with a renewed force and a dropped shoulder.

He met Hawk with a sideways rush, driving the XO backwards with the intent to floor him.

Hawk pivoted on one foot and allows Bear's moment to carry himself into a hip toss that Hawk locked in with one arm over Bear's shoulder. The maneuver flipped Bear onto his back. Cracking a smile, Hawk stepped backward and waved at Bear to get back to his feet.

There were a few ways to regain a little pride from a supine position, and Bear picked the showiest one in his repertoire. The classic kip-up was fluid and well-practised. It flowed straight into a forward handspring that successfully covered the ground between him and Hawk while aiming to land a hard-planted high level boot or two swung into the XO's upper body.

The bizarre misdirection of Bear's movements left Hawk open to the first kick, which made him suck wind. But he didn't need breath to soak the next kick in a deflecting block and trap the foot. Hands wrapped around Bear's ankle, Hawk sunk to one knee and used their combined weight to force Bear to the ground or risk breaking his own ankle. He pressed enough force against the joint to make Bear's ankle pop as he hit the ground.

Bear's howl was equal frustration and pain as he felt the inevitability of the grasp on his leg. He knew by that icy warning in his gut and the sharp sense of pain that moving against Hawk's hold would be an invitation to a long stint in sick-bay. So instead of fighting or pushing back, with effort of will, Bear relaxed. In a real fight, he'd be toast, but Hawk wouldn't knock him down and out. Would he?

He waited, gauging the location of any sensitive parts of his opponent's anatomy. When an opportunity arose, he twisted his upper body and aimed an elbow back up to catch hard under Hawk's chin. His free hand planted a palm on the ground and twisted the both of them around, aiming to land Hawk on the floor beside him.

Hawk caught the elbow directly under the chin which made him release the ankle hold and nearly fall on his back. With Bear's spin, however, Hawk found himself still on his feet but fighting for balance. Rubbing his chin, he dropped himself into a half-crouch from which he launched into a full body tackle. His shoulder was cocked to deliver a last-minute thrust into Bear's sternum on impact.

It hit. Hard and heavy with the weight of the half-Klingon officer's body adding to the force of the tackle. Bear grunted and allowed himself to roll with that closely unpleasant cuddle, attempting to minimise the damage while internally cursing. He was winded, miserable but not out of this yet and that determination kept him working towards payback.

As they went to the ground, Hawk threw his lower body up in the air in order to drive knee drops down into Bear's middle -- hopefully too low to block with his arms and too high to block with his legs -- in rapid succession.

It was a bold move, and this time Bear was in the right place at the right time to scupper Hawk's motion. The weight of the half-Klingon against his chest was tangibly uncomfortable, but Bear's legs were still free and clear, his butt connected to the ground. He went high and fast, tangling his legs about Hawk's as they collided and turning them sideways to end up atop the Oddy's XO.

There was a proud grin on Bear's face but it traded places with the exertion and mild pain of that unnatural position as he lay along Hawk's temporarily prone form. "Give up?" He asked, leaning fully into the other man's lower abdomen with all his weight.

Hawk responded by pulling Bear down into a savage headbutt, then slid his right leg up over the man's shoulder to lock in a triangle hold. Squeezing both legs tight, Hawk wrenched Bear's arm over his chest and fought to hyper-extend the elbow.

"Not by a longshot!" Hawk grunted.

Bear slowly refocused from the fuzzy haze Hawk's concrete forehead had created in his mind's eye only to find himself caught up in a twisted mess of limbs with the Oddy's XO. His arm stretched almost to breaking point, Hawk's leg locked about his shoulder, Bear groaned, steeled his gaze, tensed his jaw and leant in to plant a wet kiss on the other man's forehead. Sometimes that worked to unsettle an opponent.

"What the hell?!"

Gasping at the unexpected action, Hawk shook himself free and rolled away two full meters before jumping back to his feet.

"That was wrong," Hawk said. "So wrong." He rubbed the lingering moisture off his ridged forehead. "Let's call this one a draw and I don't put a letter in your file for unwanted physical advances."

Bear chuckled openly at that reaction, an easy light and warm laughter that didn't mock Hawk, but simply celebrated the victory. A draw from the near ashes of defeat? He'd take that.

"Sorry man," Bear consoled sincerely, though his face was still caught in a grin. "Warzone upbringing - I was taught you do whatever it takes to survive. Disturb and disorientate, s'all fair game. You gotta admit, it worked." Bear let Hawk keep the distance between them as he added. "Draw accepted. No hard feelings?"

As unnerved as he was, Hawk couldn't help but grin at the tactic. "Just keep your mouth to yourself going forward."

"Yessir," said Bear, with a firm nod of his head. He grabbed a towel from a rail to the side of the room, threw a second one to the XO, and then rubbed his own face and head dry. One word followed. "Breakfast?"

"No, I've got to shower and shit before my shift," Hawk grunted. "Might have to forego the shit."

Bear's face split into a big dumb grin and he openly chuckled. "I dunno," he said. "Shit - shower - food. Sorted." He raised an eyebrow. "Holding that in probably isn't gonna improve your mood any."

"And what is wrong with my mood, Commander?" Hawk unironically glowered at the other man.

"Didn't say there was anything wrong with it," returned Bear, with an even tone and a slight cant of his head as he spoke. He wondered if he should add 'sir' after that, but didn't.

Hawk narrowed his eyes to squints. "You have something to say, Commander? Say it."

With a straight face and a direct look, Bear regarded the Oddy's XO. "Well, okay. You don't socialise, you don't talk much, and when you do? You're almost always confrontational," he noted.

The candor nearly made Hawk laugh. "On what basis did you make that determination? I don't have drinks with Inahri or blow smoke up his ass, so I'm antisocial and confrontational. That's some winning detective work, Chief." His eyes narrowed a bit, putting the lie to the half smile that crept over his face. "You know, I was starting to respect your opinion when you challenged Inahri's poor decisions, but now I wonder if it wasn't a fluke exception to cupping his balls for him when he's in the head." He thumped two fingers directly into Bear's chest. "Confrontationalism is only a bad thing when there's nothing to confront. You will do well to put that in your assessments."

Bear grabbed the XO's wrist in a firm grip as Hawk poked at his chest, then twisted the other man's arm sideways as far as the moment and the man allowed.

"Two weeks into the mission," Bear pointed out. "And you've dodged any invites to have a few drinks, you've intimidated members of the crew with your attitude and when you me give permission to speak freely, you react very defensively. Good attempted use of deflection, Magnus, but that won't work on me," he added with an even tone.

The Security Chief let go of Hawk's forearm and rolled his eyes. "I've worked with Tavis before, yes," Bear admitted. "But my friendship doesn't prevent me from questioning his judgement or confronting him on decisions that I disagree with." A grin flashed across his features. "Interesting that you're thinking about him and his balls though," Bear chuckled. "Is all this posturing just about playing hard to get with our Captain?"

"You kissed me, peckerwood." With a derisive snort, Hawk took his leave.

"You're so pent up all the time," Bear said, to Hawk's back with a detached amusement. "You could use a really good kiss."

Hawk walked out without dignifying the other man with a response.


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