AWD #012: Punch, Counterpunch
Punch, Counterpunch
Summary: Holtz and Andromeda spar in the fitness center in front of an audience. Both of them get a little more than they bargained for.
Date: 18/01/2013
Related Logs: None
Holtz Andromeda Siska Samtara Zachary Cole 
Fitness Center
Smelling of sweat and grease, the Fitness Center is a place where individuals can come to work out or just work off stress. The area closest to the entrance is taken up by two very large sparring pads with a pathway down the center, each pad removable to reveal a Pyramid court beneath. The walls beside the pads hold lockers for everything from pugilist sticks to boxing gloves to rubber guns, though deadly weapons are strictly prohibited in here except by authorized personnel such as on-duty Military Police. Standing goalposts for Pyramid are also kept against the wall. Past the pads are a vast number of nautilus machines as well as free weights to lift. At the back of the room are workout bikes, rowing machines, treadmills, and stairclimbers. There is an entrance to the pool at the rear as well as a locker room to the side.
January 18, 2013

The fitness center has become a haven for the angry and the hurt; Either to work it out with exercise equipment or if it gets rough enough, in the sparring ring. At this time of day, there's a nice collection of people in the fitness center working out before dinner.

"Get up." Andromeda is in the sparring ring, wearing the off-duty tank and sweat shorts. On the ground in front of her? A sturdy looking fellow with a slightly dazed expression that comes from taking one too many hits. It's hard to place which catagory of angry or hurt that the auburn-haired Corspman fits in. Her tone is neither angry nor calm… It's just empty of inflection.

The sturdy bloke, Marine judging by his tats, shakes his head and reaches over to the edge of the ring, pulling a small towel out and throwing it into the ring with a melodramatic groan. "Jones, you need to be studied." He declares. The Corpsman's eyes, a curious blue with flecks of pale brown, narrow and there's a bit of frustration in her eyes as she turns her back on him to get her own water bottle.

Holtz is another one of those who's been spending time in the fitness center, becoming a common sight of late even in the wake of his much-discussed 'bout' with Sebastian; for the moment, though, he's working out alone on one of the machines. Or, at least he was, until he caught sight of the commotion in the sparring area. Stripped to the waist, he grabs a towel from his nearby bag and runs it over his face before draping it across his shoulder and approaching the ring with a curious expression on his face.

Storm looks down at the bruised marine and then back at Andromeda herself, studying the hard-faced petty officer's expression. He's got a water bottle as well, and he pauses to take a drink before resuming his slow pace towards the mats.

Given the snake-entwined Rod of Asclepius tattooed on her right arm, Andromeda is probably the last person that people would expect to make a marine throw the towel in. She rolls her shoulders, body language almost masculine as she takes a deep drink of water. She paces restlessly for several moments before looking around, eyes as empty as her voice had been again.

The marine and his cronies just shake their head at her when she looks their way, one going so far as to hold his hands up in an 'not gunna touch that' sort of way. She lets out a huff of breath, and makes her way to the punching bag instead.

Holtz looks over at the marines with a snort of contempt. "Frakkin' jarheads," he mutters with a barely noticeable shake of the head. He stops at the edge of the sparring mats, eyes fixed on Andromeda's back as she walks towards the punching bag. Clearing his throat as he steps onto the mat, he calls out after her, "What, you done already?"

The Corpsman pauses, almost mid-swing, and turns to give Holtz the sort of once-over that would make most men shuffle in place… If she were a little less masculine. But with her, it's less flirty and more assessing. She rolls one shoulder. "Not hardly." Her accent is deep country Aerilion, and she twists her torso one way then the other in a stretch as she makes her way back to the sparring mats. "You're Lt. Holtz, aye? Heard you like to fight. You try to go easy because I'm a woman, I'll bust your balls."

Andromeda pauses, and adds, "Sir."

Holtz doesn't — quite — puff up under Andromeda's measuring stare, but he's certainly not shrinking from it either. His stance is tall and proud as he inclines his head. "Yeah, I'm Holtz. Jones, is it?" A toothy, almost predatory smile spreads slowly across his face as she speaks. "Go easy? Wouldn't dream of it." He grabs a pair of gloves and starts pulling them on over his hands. "If I didn't want a fight, I'd go hit that thing." He waves a hand at the hanging bag she'd been on her way to demolish before he showed up.

Andromeda isn't a short woman; Nor is she slender. She has the lean, athletic frame of a marine, even if it's a little soft following her injuries during the Battle of Avery Hall. And she doesn't shrink away from his predatory smile, or even return it. Her expression remains empty, hard. "Jones." She confirms, "Good. Most people don't want to hit a lady." There's that hint of frustration again. "Even when I tell them I'm no lady." She checks her gloves, and takes a defensive stance, favoring her right side just a touch.

"I ain't most people," Holtz notes wryly as he finishes tying his gloves on. "And lady or not, if someone wants to get hit, I try to oblige." He steps in, pounding his gloved fists against each other before settling into a ready stance that's more street brawler than trained boxer. A guttural sound escapes the burly pilot's lips as he charges forward and drops his shoulder, immediately testing her defenses with a heavy right hook.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Holtz=melee Vs Andromeda=melee
< Holtz: Good Success Andromeda: Success
< Net Result: Holtz wins - Marginal Victory

The defenses aren't bad. Although his blow gets through, she's able to minimize it, and direct the impact somewhat. She also doesn't panic at his charge but stands her ground. Despite the average Corpsman typically being a Marine groupie, it's clear she takes the 'marine in all but name' inherent in the job seriously. Her return swing, however, is less trained boxer. It's closer to the sort of sturdy swing you'd expect from the farmer her accent places her as.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Andromeda=Melee Vs Holtz=Melee
< Andromeda: Failure Holtz: Good Success
< Net Result: Holtz wins - Solid Victory

Holtz has fought plenty of farmboys before. Maybe not so many farmgirls, but the principle is the same. It's something in her stance that gives her away; while it's a strong strike, he sees it coming. Stepping to one side, he blocks it handily, dancing away from her shot's intended landing point and using his forearm to deflect the glancing blow. There's a glint in his eye as he steps forward again, closing the distance as he launches a series of fresh series of attacks, a probing jab followed by another heavy hook.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Holtz=melee Vs Andromeda=melee
< Holtz: Good Success Andromeda: Good Success
< Net Result: Holtz wins - Marginal Victory

Wordlessly, the Corpsman absorbs the blow again, barely grunting as the blow hits her arm instead of the intended target. She shifts her body weight, attempting to trick him with a feint to the left before delivering a right hook with the side she was favoring. The emptiness is starting to leave her eyes, whatever it is causing it shoved into the background and replaced with concentration and determination.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Andromeda=Melee Vs Holtz=Melee
< Andromeda: Failure Holtz: Great Success
< Net Result: Holtz wins - Crushing Victory

Once again, Holtz sees the attack coming, her attempt at a trick aside. Either her movements or his instincts convey her intent, and he actually drops his shoulders and leans into the feint, her hook simply bouncing awkwardly off his left shoulder before she can get her full power behind it. "Come on, now, you about rubbed that frakking jarhead's face into the mat… what happened?" Holtz follows up with a powerful shot of his own, his lips contorting in a snarl as his fist dives in, aimed squarely at her gut.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Holtz=melee Vs Andromeda=melee
< Holtz: Good Success Andromeda: Success
< Net Result: Holtz wins - Marginal Victory

Again, Andromeda isn't able to completely avoid the blow… But she does minimize the impact, taking it on her arm rather than her gut with a twist of her hips. "He didn't hit as hard." She grunts, and attempts a more simple blow, taking care to get some power behind it.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Andromeda=Melee Vs Holtz=Melee
< Andromeda: Good Success Holtz: Great Success
< Net Result: Holtz wins - Solid Victory

Holtz isn't normally much of a defensive fighter, but he seems more watchful than usual today. Andromeda's strike is strong and on target, but again he twists and blocks just in time to send it crashing into his shoulder instead of the area she'd aimed for. Hoping his last attack has her watching low, he charges in once more with a powerful overhand strike at her head.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Holtz=melee Vs Andromeda=melee
< Holtz: Failure Andromeda: Success
< Net Result: Andromeda wins - Marginal Victory

Andromeda's style is apparently more defensive than offensive. Probably because no matter how fit and strong she is, she is still most likely always going to be facing people with reach and strength on her. His overhand strike is met with a duck and a weave that sends the blow barely soaring over her shoulder and misses her. She reacts by stepping in and attempt to knock him over with a knee into the side of his leg, hoping to catch him unaware.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Andromeda=Melee Vs Holtz=Melee
< Andromeda: Good Success Holtz: Good Success
< Net Result: Holtz wins - Marginal Victory

No such luck, unfortunately. Holtz senses the danger as soon as he watches her duck beneath his gloved fist; he throws himself to the side just as her knee catches him in the leg, but it doesn't really do much since he was headed in that direction anyway. The pilot lands on the mat with a grunt as he tucks in a shoulder and rolls, popping right back up to his feet as he comes out of it. Then he's rushing in once more, completely on the offensive again as he throws a sharp one-two at her head.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Holtz=melee Vs Andromeda=melee
< Holtz: Good Success Andromeda: Good Success
< Net Result: Holtz wins - Marginal Victory

Again, Andromeda managed to absorb the blows, a technique she won't be able to keep up for much longer. Holtz hits like a nuke, and his hits aren't exactly easily shrugged off. The Corpsman attempts to close on him again, hooking her leg to send him down for a ground-and-pound, her eyes narrowed into a fierce expression and a hint of a snarl on her lips.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Andromeda=Melee Vs Holtz=Melee
< Andromeda: Good Success Holtz: Failure
< Net Result: Andromeda wins - Solid Victory

Holtz lets out a growl as, yet again, Andromeda blocks his attack. He circles for a moment, trying to find a weak spot before charging in again, but that delay is all she needs. Concentrating on trying to pound her face in, Holtz barely even sees the leg sweep that knocks him down with a pained grunt, although his instincts kick in as his back slams against the mat; his own leg snakes out and tries to strike her as she moves in for the coup de grace, the fight still not quite out of him yet.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Holtz=melee Vs Andromeda=melee
< Holtz: Good Success Andromeda: Success
< Net Result: Holtz wins - Marginal Victory

Considering Andromeda was already on her way down with him, the strike just sends her down a little quicker, and she takes the blow on her side with a grunt and a hint of a wince. It isn't a solid enough blow to get her off him, but it is enough to keep her from ending things. She retaliates by attempting a sucker punch to knock the air out of him. "Got you, dammit." She growls. "Yield."

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Andromeda=Melee Vs Holtz=Melee
< Andromeda: Success Holtz: Good Success
< Net Result: Holtz wins - Marginal Victory

Holtz' kick — a move of desperation if ever there was one — moves her just enough to keep her from being able to immobilize him. Which means he's able to twist just enough to avoid taking her sucker punch in a vulnerable spot. "You got frak," he snarls, his legs snapping out again as a suddenly freed arm shoves her roughly off of him. He rolls back onto his feet, and it's game on once again, fists flying as he sends a feint towards her midsection and then an uppercut to the chin.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Holtz=melee Vs Andromeda=melee
< Holtz: Success Andromeda: Good Success
< Net Result: Andromeda wins - Marginal Victory

Again, Andromeda is better on the defensive than offensive; She is able to completely deflect his blows, using arms and even a twist of her head to the side so the punch goes straight on up. While his guard seems to be down, she attempts to use her elbow on the underside of his bicep. It's not a sportsman-like move, since at best it will leave his arm numb and at worst could break the bone or dislocate his shoulder, but something tells her he isn't exactly Prince Charming himself.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Andromeda=melee Vs Holtz=melee
< Andromeda: Good Success Holtz: Great Success
< Net Result: Holt wins - Solid Victory

Holtz' guard isn't down quite as much as he might have thought, and he's every bit as strong as he looks. He tries to jerk his bicep out of the way of her elbow shot; there's a sudden twinge of pain that tells him he didn't completely succeed, but the fact that it's no worse tells him that he did enough. He lets out a furious shout, dropping his shoulder as he throws another one of those heavy overhand punches.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Holtz=Melee Vs Andromeda=Melee
< Holtz: Success Andromeda: Success
< Net Result: DRAW

"Frak you." Andromeda snarls, her hurt and anger both boiling up to the surface, eyes hard and fierce as she catches his hand in a perfect draw, attempting to pin it to her side so she can really play dirty and knee him. She knows the bro-code too well to knee him in the crotch, but there's a gray zone, and it's in there she applies her knee, attempting to hit him in the inner thigh and knock him off balance.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Andromeda=melee Vs Holtz=melee
< Andromeda: Good Success Holtz: Good Success
< Net Result: Andromeda wins - Marginal Victory

Holtz twists just in time to keep her blow from landing where she aimed it; it hits him in the front of the leg instead of the inner side, and while it does manage to knock him back a step with a brief wince of pain, it doesn't last long. His head jerks as he looks at her with a dangerous glint in his eye, a sneer spreading across his features. Stepping into her, he puts a leg out and tries to hook her off her feet, much the same as the maneuver she'd pulled on him not long before.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Holtz=melee Vs Andromeda=melee
< Holtz: Success Andromeda: Good Success
< Net Result: Andromeda wins - Marginal Victory

The problem is that opens him up for her to stomp at his instep. And it's what she does, attempting to switch him from an offensive to defensive. His sneer gets a snarl as Andromeda stomps at his instep, attempting to maneuver him into an uppercut of her own to wipe the sneer off.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Andromeda=melee Vs Holtz=melee
< Andromeda: Failure Holtz: Good Success
< Net Result: Holtz wins - Solid Victory

Her stomp derails his attempt at a trip, but as soon as she does that, the little warning bells in Holtz' mind start going off and he's ready and waiting for that uppercut. His arm flashes up and locks in around hers, stopping her from finishing the strike, and he pulls her in close, rearing back to throw a point-blank hook to the face.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Holtz=melee Vs Andromeda=melee
< Holtz: Success Andromeda: Failure
< Net Result: Holtz wins - Marginal Victory

The fitness center is silent. Everyone is watching Andromeda and Holtz trading blows, they've been going at it for damn near twenty blows now, neither one able to secure a solid enough victory to end the sparring match. The two are fairly evenly matched, Andromeda's good defense offsetting Holtz's impressive offense. Neither one looks particularly battered, meaning neither has scored a solid blow, although both are certainly showing signs of sweat by now.

Holtz has Andromeda in close, and his hook to the face hits. She has nowhere to go, although she jerks her head back enough to make the blow glancing rather than solid. The Corpsman lets out a derisive sound that's the closest to a laugh she's uttered since Cervantes died. And she attempts a head-smash on Holtz.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Andromeda=Melee Vs Holtz=Melee
< Andromeda: Success Holtz: Good Success
< Net Result: Holtz wins - Marginal Victory

Siska does make an effort to keep himself in shape. He steps into the room without much ceremony and directs himself towards the treadmills. A glance given to the mat where the pilot and corpsman are dancing, is made. He smikrs a bit but comments nothing.

With a towel draped over one shoulder, music player clipped to her belt and headphones around her neck, Dr. Nadir steps into the fitness center to the sound of a sparring match already in progress - a sparring match that has drawn the attention of those already in the room in the form of a crowd that surrounds the pair. A small perplexed frown forms on her face for a moment as she sweeps a look around the room before skirting the edge of the gathered crowd, making her way toward the rows of machines and equipment.

Holtz sees Andromeda's head rear back just in time to push her away; instead of turning his face into a bloody mess as likely was the intent, her head merely glances off his. The big pilot's ear rings for just a moment, but he shakes it off and gives another wolfish, toothy grin as he wades back in, giant gloved fists again on the attack.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Holtz=melee Vs Andromeda=melee
< Holtz: Success Andromeda: Good Success
< Net Result: Andromeda wins - Marginal Victory

Siska reaches his destination and drops a water bottle he carries near a treadmill facing the mat. An small glance towards the crowd amassed is made before he begins stretching.

The Corpsman holds her own against the Pilot, despite his reputation. It's a hell of a fight, and both are too keyed up to really notice just how long they've been sparring. The entire hall is watching, bets undoubtably being place on who ends up winning. Most people bet on Holtz. He's got a reputation in the sparring ring, although the stories of Andromeda taking a Raider's KEW to the chest, fixing herself up right there in the middle of the battle and continuing to fight on during the Battle of Avery Hill has undoubtably made the rounds.

She manages to deflect his blows, bobbing and weaving. But rather than stepping back at his charge, she steps forward, meeting him head on and attempting to send both of them down onto the ground with her on top for better leverage against his superior reach and mass.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Andromeda=melee Vs Holtz=melee
< Andromeda: Good Success Holtz: Good Success
< Net Result: Holtz wins - Marginal Victory

Dr. Nadir pauses for a moment, seeming to consider her options, since everyone else is focused on the sparring match, and takes the time to survey the mautilus machines, the free weights, workout bikes, rowing machines, treadmills and stairclimbers. To be fair, she's calculating the amount of germs on the available surfaces, left hand twitching faintly, fingertips tapping against her side before she approaches the row of treadmills before casting about for the can (there has to be one) of disenfectant wipes. Finding none easily within line of sight she debates a moment longer then nods a greeting to Siska. "Captain," offered with the nod, a glimpse of a smile before she drapes the towel over one of the bars, turning slightly back toward the match, hearing the sound of impact.

Andromeda nearly manages to bring Holtz down again, but this time he's able to block her. A swift elbow jab manages to keep her from getting in and being able to grapple or push him down to the ground, and he takes a few steps and circles, his breath coming a little heavier now. Nevertheless, it seems there's still plenty of fight left in the big Viper pilot, and another hiss escapes his lips as he sends yet another powerful combination of blows against the corpsman.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Holtz=melee Vs Andromeda=melee
< Holtz: Success Andromeda: Good Success
< Net Result: Andromeda wins - Marginal Victory

Siska is currently sitting over the floor and reaching over to touch his toes with the yokes of his fingers. A small glance towards the new arrival to the treadmill section is made and he smiles amply. "Lieutenant Nadir, good to see you," he says in that soft voice of his. He gathers himself up and begins to roll his shoulders as his hands position themselves over his waist. The blows manage to draw his attention a bit, "No ground and pound, PO! Steady your jabs to work a cross," he yells to Addy.
GAME: Save complete.

Andromeda shakes Holtz' blows off, the anger and pain she'd been repressing behind those empty eyes giving her a boost of adrenaline that keeps her offense strong and her defense firm. No words, but she lets out another laugh as she manages to shake off his powerful offense, heather eyes blazing as she tries to keep him on the defensive. As if to spite Siska, she attempts another dirty trick on Holtz, side-stepping and attempting to stomp the back of his calf.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Andromeda=melee Vs Holtz=melee
< Andromeda: Good Success Holtz: Great Success
< Net Result: Holtz wins - Solid Victory

Dr. Nadir, with her hands tucked into her front pockets, eyes the match as it seems to be going from a pugilistic sparring fest to a less than traditional fight. "Likewise," she replies before studying the sparring pair. "Someone once said that if you find yourself in a fair fight that the game is rigged. Would I be correct in my assessment that this sparring match is going from just sparring to venting?" she asks in a quiet aside of Siska.

For a man his size, Holtz is surprisingly mobile. Andromeda stomps nothing but empty air as he dances around the corpsman's attack. He smirks again, bashing his gloves together as he watches her move. Then he charges, looking like he's going to come at her with a haymaker, but instead at the last moment bringing his foot up in a sweeping roundhouse kick.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Holtz=melee Vs Andromeda=melee
< Holtz: Good Success Andromeda: Failure
< Net Result: Holtz wins - Solid Victory

Siska shakes his head in disapproval of Addy's tactic. "Venting is fine with me, doc, but mixing up a boxing match with plain street-fighting is just insulting this fine art." He now angles into his treadmill and sets it for a slow walk.

Samtara leans back slightly, resting against the arm of the treadmill that she plans to use, "Which art is that, Captain?" she wonders in return, continuing to look mildly intrigued and perplexed by the sparring match and the sheer amount of rapt attention from those gathered to observe same.

Siska prompts and answer to Samtara, "Boxing, Doctor." He waves a hand at the match and adds, "Four-limbed combat is nothing more than sugar-coated barbarism." He watches the duo sparring and then Sam, "Stance. Strike posture. Body in a solid unit…" He snaps back to see the match just as Addy is roundhoused by the viper jock.

The pilot /finally/ manages to land a solid blow on Andromeda. The kick lands hard, and sends her sprawling back with a grunt. She goes limp, minimizing the impact and coming up ready for more. "Take more than that." She says to him, voice ringing as she rolls her shoulders, and lets him take a free blow at her in honor of his solid kick. Come at me, bro!

If she's not going to stay down, then Holtz will keep going. He's been in too many nasty brawls to have much interest in such a quaint concept as fighting fair. He steps forward, lips contorted in that same silent sneer as he moves to trip her; if the trip succeeds he'll go down after her, attempting to grapple and immobilize in an attempt to finally end it.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Holtz=melee Vs Andromeda=melee
< Holtz: Good Success Andromeda: Good Success
< Net Result: Holtz wins - Marginal Victory

"Said in the tone that indicates that you've some experience in this area?" Samtara asks, turning away from the match after one goes sprawling, a sympathetic wince forming on her face for a moment. "And what elevates barbaric mortal combat that relies heavily upon brute force, minimal tactics, favoring the strong and the agile over the weaker and smaller opponent to some manner of art form? Is it training? tactics? forms? Some code of honor, some ethos of tradition?"

The Corpsman goes down; however, she manages to keep from being immobilized with a well placed shift in her weight, turning it from a rather dirty boxing match into a wrestling match. She isn't going to give up; It's clear that if Holtz wants victory, he's going to have to fight for every single inch of ground. Fight fair? WTF?

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Andromeda=Melee Vs Holtz=Melee
< Andromeda: Good Success Holtz: Good Success
< Net Result: DRAW

Siska watches Addy climb back up and says, "Elevate it? No. I am just pointing out that boxing in the mats, without structure and form, is not that amusing to me." He points to Addy and adds, "There`s no way that roundhouse would have connected if the PO kept her feet planted like she should be."

Samtara turns slightly, propping one elbow on the arm of the treadmill she's leaning against and studies Siska for another of those long moments. "Hm. Intriguing. Thus, your objection is based more on the form and tactics and principal of the exercise than the actual content thereof. This could, in theory, mean that you are more a fan of a traditional style pugilistic match than a free for all mixed what ever it is bout that they're engaged in. Supporting this theory is the note regarding her stance, feet planted as you stated."

Despite Holtz' best efforts to lock her down, Andromeda is still writhing beneath him, her movements keeping her from getting a good hold on her. There's a soft growl of frustration as he tries to duplicate the sucker punch she'd tried to use on him earlier in the match. He's hoping to stun her long enough to reestablish his hold and immobilize her, as he was attempting during the prior exchange of blows.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Holtz=melee Vs Andromeda=melee
< Holtz: Success Andromeda: Good Success
< Net Result: Andromeda wins - Marginal Victory

Shirtless CAG is shirtless. Making his way into the fitness center, Zachary is not wearing the usual tank top, instead going shirtless. The band of his swimtrunks peek out over his sweats, suggesting he's going to go for a swim soon, but first, he makes his way towards the treadmill. For the record to settle the debate on Airwing. Eden decided yes, hair please. Stepping onto one of the empty treadmills, the Major sets it to an even pace and starts to run, feet plodding against the treads as he has ear buds in on the moment. Over his left pec is a tattoo of the symbol of Aurora, and across his back is Aphrodite lifting a wounded Marine into her arms and the words and letters '917-RQS - Aphrodite's Embrace' around it.

Siska nods to the Doc, "Exactly." He stops the machine and moves over to stand in front of Nadir. "See," he takes a fighting stance and points out the fundamentals of the stance. "Body mechanics, Nadir," he leads with a fast jab and then throws a few punches in the air to makes his point.

Get up? Oh no. Andromeda is still down, still attempting to get out from under Holtz, refusing to give up. It's the same stubbornness that's kept the people of her home colony fighting even as other colonies are destroyed. She responds to his growl of frustration with another derisive laugh, and a twist of her hips to send them both spinning with her on top. That established, she returns the attempted sucker punch with a very not nice blow below his ribs.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Andromeda=Melee Vs Holtz=Melee
< Andromeda: Failure Holtz: Failure
< Net Result: Both Fail.

Dr. Nadir's eyes narrow subtly as she tracks Siska's movements as he makes his point, or - rather - demonstrates his point. "Theory into practical application," said in a musing tone of voice as she slowly nods. "Then, from your perspective, a brawl has less form - by it's very nature - than a genuine boxing match. Or, to elevate it further, some more refined manner of combat exhibition. If the means achieve the end, that being to win against ones opponent, what matter the style in which it is accomplished?"

Siska hitches a shoulder, "I guess it does not matter, Doc, but I still think that following traditional methods grace victory even further." He now looks to Z and nods in greeting.

Nothing like a little fit and finess to end one's evening. And nothing goes finer with fitness than a little bit of nicotine to exercise one's lungs. Aristides 'Janitor' Cole enters the center with his gym duffel slung over his shoulder and a fumerella stick dangling from his lips. Sharp eyes do a quick assessment of the occupants, and the viper stick tromps in the direction of the mats to watch the match currently in progress.

Popping out an earbud, Zachary can finally listen to the conversations. From the loosen earbud, Zach's music player is playing 'Gimmie Some Lovin'' by the Spencer Davis Group as he continues to jog along. "Evening. How goes the training?" he asks as he continues to go.

Siska gives Zach a thumbs-up. The intercom squacks for the "S4" to report to company HQ pronto. "He looks at the box and leans to get his water bottle. "Right." He looks at Nadir and pats her gently over the shoulder before leaving.

Said mats are currently playing host to a veritable brawl between Andromeda and Holtz, though at least this time both parties involved are wearing the proper safety equipment. Holtz' shirtless torso is covered in sweat and a number of marks that are likely to end up as ugly bruises, and his chest heaves for breath as he continues to grapple with the corpsman. Finally, their rolling on the mat ends with him more or less on top, if in a precarious position. This time, though, he doesn't try to punch or apply a hold to her; he just shakes his head, still breathing heavily as he looks down at the woman. "I think… we've about had… enough…" he manages to get out as he clumsily flops over onto the mat beside her.

"Hmm, perhaps my error is not quite grasping why it matters if there's grace involved when it comes to victory. Winning matters, Captain. Win in the first fight, win so thoroughly that your opponent can never, ever, get up off of the mat again. Win from the first fight, and the fight is over. Period. It's not about grace, it's not about form and function, about fluid movements and traditional steps and forms. If those skill sets help you win, then it's worth the time and effort," said as she steps up onto the treadmill that she's been standing beside, "but win, Captain. Everything else is for historians to sort out, for analysts to pour over for generations, for the peanut gallery to dissect." She shakes her head when Siska pats her on the shoulder, and then departs, "No way to win a debate," is muttered and starts up the machine.

"You… Punch… like a girl." Andromeda manages to get out. Her chest rises and falls heavily with a suspicious hint of moisture that, if asked, she's going to claim is sweat at the corner of her tightly clenched eyes. Finally, with a hint of a wince at the amount of extension nessesary, she nabs a bottle of water. Top's popped, she takes a shallow drink, and rolls the bottle to Holtz after replacing the cap.

"That's an insult to girls." Cole says. Of course, this is said from the /sidelines/ where he's all too happy to sit and watch others duke it out on the mat. Of course, his time in CMC cross-training will come, but tonight he's on a self guided tour of PT. Should he ever start to begin with. Right now, he just exhales twin streams of smoke from his nose as a smirk touches his lips and he just shakes his head at Holtz.

After jogging for a while, Zachary finally pulls his shirt on and continues to go. "Everyone seems chatty tonight." he comments as he goes, and smirks towards Samtara. "Especially you, Doctor."

Dr. Nadir is slowly bringing the treadmill up to speed, adjusting the pace as she starts out at a steady jog, "Throw enough words at a problem and eventually a solution might just fall onto the table," she replies with a measured shake of her head. "Cant fix the problem by hammering at it, or dissecting it, analyzing it, turning it inside out, upside down, finding a out of the box approach. Sometimes it's just a matter of letting any equation run long enough until a sum is reach."

"Frak you," Holtz breathes throatily in reply, staring up at the ceiling as sweat streams down his face. "And frak… you too." That's directed at Cole, although from where he's laying Holtz can't actually see who it is that chimed in. He does accept Andromeda's offer of the water bottle, though, his adam's apple bobbing as he drinks greedily. It's rolled back to her a moment later as he lies there, chest still heaving from the exertion.

"Don't know, Doctor. Heard it said once that punching is the best medicine." The music jams of late 60s and early 70s rock continues from the CAG's music player to continue to press the Major to move faster.

Andromeda accepts the bottle back. "Drink.. too much… and you'll get sick." The medic warns Holtz, as she forces herself to sit up and take another drink of water. "I said girl, not woman, sir." That to Cole, giving him a snort as she tries as discreetly as possible to wipe the sweat and (sssh!) tears off her face. Andromeda closes her eyes again and opens them. And eyes Holtz. "I hope you don't expect me to pay for your cab faire. Sir."

"Percussive maintenance is not the be-all end-all of solutions," Dr. Nadir replies with a wry trace of humor in her voice to the CAG. She increases the pace until her BP is right in the target zone then maintains it easily. "Unless you're making computer reboot, at that point then yes, a swift kick to the side of the box is the best medicine."

"Looks like you'd be too sore to enjoy it, Stormy." Cole smokes it because he's got it, his eyes roving over to Holtz' sparring partner. There's a quirk of a smirk as Andromeda puts that qualifier on the previous statement. "Either way. Sorry I missed the fireworks." Finally, the man unslings his bag from his shoulder, throwing it to the mats nearby so he can bend over and start the tedious unlacing of boots.

Holtz lies there a moment longer before finally, slowly, pulling himself up — first to a sitting position and then even more slowly to his feet. His gait is stiff as he makes his way back over to his own bag, discarded not far from where Cole tossed down his. The burly pilot pulls a towel from the bag and runs it along his face and over his shirtless chest, though he manages to keep from wincing in pain as it crosses over his battered body. "Eh, you're not… my type, anyway, Janitor," he manages dryly, his voice still somewhat breathless.

The Corspman moves stiffly too, as the blows she absorbed during the match catch up with her. "Frak." She says it with an almost laugh as she puts her weight on one of her legs and winces. "Rematch sometime." That's offered to Holtz as she grabs her own towel and wipes her face, peeling her tee off. "Sir." She adds that after a bit, as if remembering he's a pilot. "Drinks too." She chuckles at Cole, with another wince as she begins to pace, starting her cooling down process.

"And here I thought ruggedly good looking rapscallions were the in thing this year." And humble. Don't forget humble. Cole toes off his loosened boots, guiding them with a nudge of his instep towards his other belongings neatly. With a roll of his neck that nearly has him touching each ear to the cooresponding shoulder and a stretch of his arms is enough to get him started.

Holtz looks back at Andromeda, offering the corpsman a thin smile. "Bet your ass," he replies, nodding at both the proposition of a rematch and drinks, as he begins his own series of cool-down stretches. A snort goes Cole's way a moment later. "You're just too much man for me to handle," he deadpans as he bends back down to his bag, rooting around for a second or two before pulling out a grey sleeveless shirt and pulling it on over his (mostly) dry torso.

Andromeda snorts at Holtz, as if to say she was too much a man for him to handle, but doesn't. Instead, she finishes her cool down and makes her way towards the head near the Enlisted berthings. When she leaves, it's a much more cheerful person, less empty-eyed and hard.

Cole smoothes one hand and then the other down his sternum, one still holding his cigarette in the crook of his fingers. "I get that a lot." The pro tem SL sucks against his teeth like there's cornsilk stuck in his smile. A sense of bravado is a carefully crafted thing. When Andromeda takes her leave, eyes follow her out. "Who's the…?" He upnods in the direction she left in, letting the sentence dangle for Holtz to fill in whichever noun he prefers.

"Yeah. I'm sure." Holtz rolls his eyes in Cole's direction as he utters a wry little snort. When the other man asks about Andromeda, his eyes linger a moment on the woman, watching her depart. "… Hellion?" Another snort, this one tinged with amusement at the term. "Jones. Corpsman." There's a slight shake of the head, his eyes still on her as she exits the room. "Wouldn't guess it from the way she fights, though."

Cole drops down to the mat, "That her name is Jones? Really man, I don't know what that has to do with her fighting style." He tucks his cigarette back in his smirking lips, and starts to run through the beginning stretches and exercises of a discipline that promotes control of the body and mind. It seems the newly pinned Captain does yoga for part of his PT regimen.

Holtz rolls his eyes. "That she's a medic, you dolt." He sinks down to a seated position next to the mat and pulls his own pack of cigarettes out of his bag, pulling one out and lighting it. He looks up at the ceiling, as if appealing to the gods in mock supplication. "And you're the one they promoted? Lords preserve us all."

A passing marine looks at the pair of pilots sourly, and his mouth twitches as if he's about to say something about their smoking in the gym. Holtz beats him to it, though. "Blow it out yer ass, pal, unless you want to take it up with me over there." And he jerks his chin in the direction of the mats upon which he and Andromeda just finished with. The marine — the same one Andromeda had been sparring with before Holtz himself showed up — considers it briefly… and then moves on without saying a word.

"Miss Congeniality." Cole mutters around the filter of his cigarette, barely keeping it rooted by the pinch of lips alone. Palms on the floor, he's currently stretched out and his weight is distributed between that and his tiptoes. Hips hovering a bare inch above the floor, the rest of his torso is elongated towards the ceiling. Downward dog, yo. "There's actually something I wanted to…frak." Talking, exercising /and/ smoking is a difficult undertaking so Cole eases into a different position that frees up his hand to take care of the most important of those tasks: smoking. "Talk to you about. We have the all hands briefing tomorrow, but after that," He hisses in a breath filling his lungs with smoke. "I want to pick your brain."

"Do I win a prize?" Holtz retorts with a smirk as he relaxes, his arm propped against his knee. A hiss of breath expels a lungful of smoke as Cole continues, and that cocky grin fades slowly, replaced by pursed lips and a raised brow. "My brain?" he echoes, genuine surprise in his tone. Storm shrugs. "Sure. What about?"

"Oh, yeah. That. Hell, as much time I've spent watching those camera tracks, I hope I'd've picked up something." Holtz nods. He starts shoving his things back in his gym bag, standing up and slinging it over his shoulder. "No problem. Be glad to." Cigarette bobbing in his mouth, he nods to the other pilot. "I'm gonna hit the rack, myself. That…" Holtz looks back at the sparring mats, shaking his head. "… took a bit out of me," he admits. That's what you get when you insist on sparring with people a decade-plus your junior, though.

Cole raises a hand in parting as he trots off towards the pool and the head located off to the side. "See you, Storm." And with that, Janitor goes to take care of his bladder.

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