Fight Night
Fight Night
Summary: Fight Night in the Gym. Elder v. Price. Marek v. Swift. Passi v. Black.
Date: PH059 (16 June 2009)
Related Logs: None

CEC Kharon, Deck 3, Gym
IC Time: Post Holocaust Day #59
OOC Time: Tue Jun 16 21:39:20 2009

This is a rather large room that would accommodate quite a few people. The typical battleship gray color that coats the walls and floor of most of the ship is broken up here by the rubberized flooring that's done in a neutral tan. The other main addition to the flooring are stacks of dark blue mats that are available to be pulled out for a variety of purposes, though one standard is generally left at the back of the room which is considerable in its size and has a big, bright red circle taped onto it for sparring.

Free weights sit along one wall, the racks extending a little further out into the room. On the other side are the typical nautilus-style equipment common to most gyms, their standard weight sets adjustable by a simple change of the metal key in the stacks of iron. There is a fresh pile of folded towels sitting by the hatch, a plastic bin on the other side for the deposit of used towels in need of a wash.

The Hatch opens bringing in the Corpsman, complete with a black duffel bag, and in his off-duty greens. After all he did some shift juggling in order to be here tonight. Like Frak he is going to miss it. Dutch, also seems to be smoking, or ready to-as a thick brown cigar is clamped tightly in his mouth. Or rather half of one. He's chewing, so who knows when he'll light up- but all the same he's making a b-line for the benches, a slight glance towards Eddie and there is a nod to her. "Hey there Princess." don't worry-all female pilots are princess. Sides this is Fight Night- only time he'll probably get away with that too. "How's tricks in them flying world." The Taron twang thick as ever, as he sits down and proceeds to open his 'goodie' bag.

Walking into the Gym, looking as spry as a spring goose comes Ashe who himself is looking on the verge of smoking. In his mouth is a cigar that is unlit along with wearing a pair of sunglasses that seem completely inappropriate for the event. But it is a rather casual evening and if he gets a hammer, he gets a hammer. It isn't about finding a good seat nearby the ring, sweat and stuff gets on you. It's about finding one that is comfortable, with a good view, and being close enough to throw out insults. So that is why Ashe is here early to stake a claim on such seating.

Eddie pulls her cigarette out of her mouth, holding the smoke in her lungs when she responds to Hatch, which leaves her voice sounding hollow. "Ain't dead yet. Gotta count for something." At the end of that, she finally exhales, her lips canted towards the ceiling. Mooner chews on her thumb nail for a moment, then looks down to her feet, looking out of sorts.

"Ayup. I guess it does." And so from the bag Dutch is pulling out his tape, a small med kit-you know incase someone gets seriously injured and of course a small cup. all set to his side on the bench before he's plucking the cigar from his mouth as a stream of brown juice is spat down into the cup, and sat back down. "You got a light?" asked with a sort of non committal raise of his brow. As if the marine couldn't will it up any further. This one- this one had been chewed on enough. It demands to be smoked.

Ashe continues his calm recline where he sits and ponders some of the other folks. Calling out, he singles out Dutch. "So Sarge, you intending on coughing a lung on your opponent and hoping that you're breath puts them down?"

Eddie tucks her cigarette back in the corner of her mouth, "Yeah. Yeah I do." She pauses for a moment, as if she's not going to offer it over, but she finally starts moving to retrieve it. It's on a silver chain around her neck, so she's digging it out from beneath her sweatshirt top. She doesn't unstring it, so if he wants a light, he's going to have to come close.

Master Sergeant Peri Nikos, keeper of the dogtag box, enters the gym in offduties, with a big fat stogie in his mouth. It's a spicy scent, perhaps something Aquarian? He makes his way over to the ring, boots heavy on the gym floor. He takes up a post near the starboard of the ring, and drops the metal box on the edge of it. "Tags in." The burly marine keeps a low profile on the ship, but is known for his experience and, also, his ability to tear just about any two combatants apart.

Dutch turns his head, glancing on back towards Ashe before there's a laugh around the stub of his stogie. "Yeah, Because of all the ways t' kill in space-disease and darkness is clearly the one I would choose." a twitch of a grin before he's raising his fist. "You come to play tonight-champ or are you going to be busy sitting on your ass?" Curious if only the Corpsman will be representing the Corps tonight.

"Thanks Darlin'.." mutters Dutch before he leans in for the light, apparently he doesn't care how he gets flame, just that he does. A deep puff of smoke. And he is slowly rising up.

"Got em Sarge." and he's already moving to toss his in. Well after a walk, then he's heading back.

Eddie lights Dutch's cigar for him, not taking much offense to being called Darling or Princess. As he leans back, her eyes go to Nikos over there making his rounds and waiting for dog tags. She's not reaching for her own, for once. Maybe she's just here to spectate.

"I was plannin' on sitting." Ashe tosses out towards Dutch but then he ponders and shrugs, pulling off his tags and throwing them at the Corpsman. "But what the hell. I'm not /that/ worn out after the bout with kitty. Throw them in for me." He then leans back, still sitting in his sunglasses and with his cigar looking quite literally too cool for the rest of you.

As tags clink-clink into the box, one after the other, the tall, dark haired marine steps back, keeping eyes on the gathering soldiers. Master Sergeant Nikos crosses his arms, and lays out the rules, "Tags in. First name called calls out his opponent. If the tags are in the box, it's a fight. If not, pick someone else." He steps back to wait a moment more before choosing the first set of tags.

When he comes back Dutch brings his hand up, and snags the tags before tossing them over towards the Master Sergeant. So far, only the Marines have answered the call for the tags. A grin and a puff of smoke before he is heading back to his bench-taking time to put on tape around his wrists. Getting ready for the beat down to come seems, about right.

Last time the ship had a boxing match, Roubani got his tags in under the radar and had Nerd Deathmatch with Jason in the ring. This time, though, the broken arm still in its cast and blue sling is a bit too much to ignore. He is watching this time, surely, dressed in his offduties and boots, with the mild squint and slightly wan complexion of someone who hasn't been sleeping well. He skirts around a group of Marines nearly blocking the hatch and heads for the benches, finding a seat not too close to any bunches of people.

Kassia comes in now long after Roubani and smiles over towards him as she also skirts around the marines, her tags stay firmly on however, she's not one to fight. "Mind I sit with you Roubani?" She asks, rather cheerfully hovering near him at the benches.

Nikos catches the tags as they're tossed, nods to Dutch, then chucks them into the metal box where they kiss those of member of the Air Wing. The Master Sergeant sucks his teeth in what could be approval, then glances up.

As tags clink-clink into the box, one after the other, the tall, dark haired marine steps back, keeping eyes on the gathering soldiers. Master Sergeant Nikos crosses his arms, and lays out the rules, "Tags in. First name called calls out his opponent. If the tags are in the box, it's a fight. If not, pick someone else." He steps back to wait a moment more before choosing the first set of tags.'

Kai shambles in with the rest of Kharon's air wing that isn't eating, sleeping, flying or jerking off right now. He's got a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, dark hair still wet from a shower not five minutes ago. Spotting the ring set up, and the crew situating themselves in its vicinity with a jangling of dogtags and trash talking being slung, he turns and veers thattaway.

Hale comes in quietly with his hands already wrapped in ready. Took time to get ready in the berthings before heading down, to the night of all nights. A night in which one can finally let off a lot of damned frakking steam. And well have a good time. The tall Lieutenant bandies on in, and over to where the Master Sergeant is standing asking for tags. A cheerful grin and Hale passes along his tags "There you go mate." Slight wink to the man, as he takes time to scam the benches for where to sit.

Marines are noticed- So is Mooner who gets a big wave. But its another person he sees that has him moving "Oi Poet." and so Hale's found his first victim as he is lumbering on over to sit with him.

Much like Kai, only less crusty and somewhat less dangerous(and less dangerous-looking), is the offduty-tank-clad Willem, a duffel bag over his own shoulder and his hands already wrapped. Why waste time? Strangely, he looks like he's about ready to do anything but kill or maim here. It's an exercise. And if it's like last time, it might be another exercise in getting his ass beat.

Roubani settles into the seat, drawing his ankle up onto his knee. His shoulders have a tired slouch that he's admirably keeping in check. Darkly circled eyes glance up as Kassia comes over, and he nods her to the next seat. "Of course not, Ensign." Then Hale gets a mild nod. "Sir, how are you."

Kassia goes to sit down on the bench delighted he agreed and goes to match his position, her feet crossed indian style. "You look tired not been sleeping well?" She asks…Then looks up as he mentions a sir. "Good evening sir, will you be fighting?"

"Bloody great mate- Good t' see you round an about." comes the usual Hearty greeting, though thankfully for Roubani-he is spared one of Hale's bear hugs or claps on the shoulders. The sling serves as a reminder to the huge farm boy. "Lords love you mate- miss seeing you around." And he does mean it. A grin is given over towards Kassia and there is a huge nod. "Course gel, I'm fightin-got a rep to damage after all." wink and he is plunking right down. Opposite of Roubani.

Kai doesn't approach the bench of pilotry that's forming, but instead mingles with a few marines getting their hate on. They, naturally, pay little attention to the Captain, which seems to suit him just fine. His duffle is ditched on the floor, and he follows it, easing down slowly into a crouch. Tape is rummaged for, and a bottle of water; the former he starts sectioning off into ribbons torn off with his teeth.

"Allergies," Roubani explains to Kassia, mild and without a hint of sincerity. He would undoubtedly be grateful for Hale's not hugging him, had he known how closely it was just avoided. "I do miss you all as well, Lieutenant," he says, with a slight nod. "I figured most would be here tonight."

The dark haired, huge marine reaches into the box, and rattles the dogtags around a little. He pulls out a set, twisting the chain to have a look at the name. Master Sergeant Nikos booms out, "Elder. In the ring. Pick your opponent."

Samantha steps into the room, tags already off in her hand. She tosses them into the box in a heartbeat, eager, almost, but her face is quiet of any actual emotion. At least her eyes aren't even red. she's in her off duty regulation sweats, ehr blonde hair severely braided, middle 30s face watching the room quietly…

Kassia grins at Hale nodding her head up and down. "Good for you sir, knock em head." She says with a laugh, before glancing at Roubani. "That can get you this time of year." She comments, with a quick nodd. "I use to get it awful, not so bad now." She turns her head towards the ring eager to see whom will be fighting first.

Dutch chuckles to himself as he watches the flight jockeys roll in, a slight look back to Ashe and the other marine just rolls his shoulders "Well looks like the gang's all here." murmured mainly to himself before there's a huge plume of grey smoke which joins the atmo of cigarette smoke and other things which them crew folks seem to imbibe in.

A look over about to say more when he's looking to the other Marine "Hold my cigar, will ya pal?" Because it seems he's got a date in the ring.

There's a glance before the Sergeant is pointing to where Willem is standing "Him." Though Dutch has met him once-seems like a reason to fight.

Eddie looks as everyone seems to be flooding around the man who least likes a crowd. He doesn't opt to sit by her, so she shoots Roubani a brief smile across the way. And Hale gets a two fingered salute ticked off her forehead, the cigarette she's smoking tucked between the knuckles. The silver glint at her neck likely means she's still wearing her tags, and they aren't in the kitty with the rest.

Well. Wil's teeth flash in a quick, wry grin as he shrugs his shoulders a little, eyeing Dutch. He's scarcely had a chance to put his tags in before he's first up. Setting his bag down on the bench near the other pilots(but not -too- near), he starts to fumble for some of his protective gear. Mouthguard. Gloves. Looks like he pulled a Marine again. There's something to be said for lucky trends, right?

"Hold it? I'm gonna frakin' smoke it." Ashe responds towards Dutch as he continues reclining all sprawled out. Letting the refraction from his glasses settle on Dutch, he looks from the Sarge, to his pick, then back to the Sarge. "Wow Sarge. Touch pick there. Don't break your heels or chafe your bra fightin' that one."

Kai genuinely looks conflicted about putting his tags in the box. Maybe it's why he's stalled on it this long. He finishes winding tape around his left hand, binding the wrist and redoing the knuckles twice before he's satisfied. But with at least two of the air wing sitting out, Marek can't very well let them go down as pussies, now can he? He grunts softly, shifts back to his feet, and starts winding his way toward the ring. His tags are tugged up and over his head, and tossed in with a clatter.

Roubani glances off in the direction Dutch is pointing. Willem, huh. He stifles an unrelated yawn behind the back of his hand and idly glances over the pool of pilots, marines, and the occasional 'other' that showed up. When his attention happens on Kai it lingers there - especially as he realises the Captain's taping up. He just watches for a while before moving on, spotting Eddie. Hadn't seen her before, and he gives her a really small wave. No, he's not getting up.

Samantha lofts a brow towards Kai as he actually approaches the box. She nods briefly…"CAG." A voicing of both respect and a bit of worry before she steps back from the box also and heads for the benches. She's not sitting out, at least. She grabs her tape out of her track jacket and begins to wrap around her knuckles, readying for when or if she gets called.

Hale chuckles as he is looking Wil and already a loud whistle is given, in support as Willem is called out. Big meaty hands clapping loudly. "Get th' bugger Wil, Knock him in th' head!" And there is a slight nudge of his elbow over to Roubani just gently "So it begins-mate."

Kassia looks just a little concerned as Will is called up. "Oh my." She says with a grin. "I'm not sure of his odds, lets hope he fights as good as he lands aye." She says with a joke, she waves as Eddie looks their way then settled back to watch the pounding…Eh match.

"I'll show you how to hit someone right Ashe, instead of playing kissyface with your match- take notes, sister." offered back with a nod to the Man. And so gloves are pulled on, and mouthguard slid in. A quick bite and smile-Dutch is up and in the ring. A few test swings and punches are given to the air as he loosens up and there is a look back to Willem. A nod to the man. Hell this should be frakking fun.

Nikos nods as Dutch calls out his opponent. "To three points, then you're out. Don't go for the eyes or the balls." Everything else is fair game, it seems. The Master Sergeant steps back, and puffs silently on his cigar.

Despite her bruises from the bout with Swift, Jupes ducks into the Gym on the heels of some other air folks. She fishes her tags off, and slides past some marines to dump them into the box. Tink. "Spider." She nods to the Captain, then passes behind the Master Sergeant, and heads to the opposite side of the ring.

"Too pretty for you?" Somewhere in the midst of Wil's gearing up, he takes a bit of a moment to shoot Ashe something of a goofy, smart-assed grin, jerking a thumb towards his so-far-undamaged face. "What's the matter? Too pretty for ya?" General smirks are short towards Sam and some of the other pilots, and he shortly climbs into the ring after. He shoots Dutch a wink. He doesn't seem terribly cocky here, but afraid of his impending asskicking, he's not.

Jupiter's greeting is returned with scarcely more than a nod from Kai. He keeps his eyes on the match — Wil, in particular — as his squadmate passes by. The Captain, it seems, is in a mood.

Ashe continues reclining as he calls out towards Wil. "Damn straight, I only fight ugly. But I got a hunch, that Dutch'll be knockin' the pretty right outta ya."

Eddie returns the wave of Roubani and Kassia with a quick little crook of her fingers once or twice. Her eyes then move on to the rest of the crowd and possible combatants, flitting over her breathren of the airwing who will be representing.

"Who let you out of your cage?" Jupes tosses off to Ashe, she smirks and her attention goes back to the ring. "Kick his ass, Rebound!" She pats down the pockets of her sweats, perhaps looking for a cigarette. None are found. Dammet.

Roubani fishes his cigarette pack from the side pocket of his fatigue trousers. He pulls one out by the filter with his teeth - one-handed living is all about unconventional method - and eventually gets it lit. And so the fight begins, and he watches.

There's a chuckle back towards Willem as Dutch waits for the Pilot to ready himself, and then he is coming in, quick. Fists are up as his right hand hangs back in a feint before that monster of his left, which has been coiled, swings out in a wicked left hook, right off the bat. Leave it to a Corpsman to bring the pain- and this particular brand is aimed for the jaw.

Kassia goes to find her own cigs reminded of the fact she remembered to bring them today, she brings out the back and goes to get one out, a few second later she's lighting it up and chilling. "Shame we ran out of popcorn." She says conversationally to the pair sat with her.

A wink is tossed to Jupiter on Willem's part before he makes kissy-faces towards Ashe. How. Charming. Anyway, back to the fight. Wil's left is held high while his right is coiled in anticipation of a coming strike. He's quick on his feet if nothing else, and at this point, focused on the fight now, and his opponent. The smirks fade and he's all concentration. Gliding forward, he brings his arm half-forward in a feint to bring his fist slamming into Dutch's chest. The force of the blow, though, is rendered inert by the blow he takes to the side of his face. His head turns towards one side drastically and spit sprays from his mouth. That might have hurt. Still, though, he's standing.

Kai is quiet from the sidelines amidst the catcalls and whoops going up, though he does begin his own search for a cigarette with a distracted patting-down of pockets. Most of his attention is on the match. Ow. That's gotta hurt.

"The same person who smacked ya up. Oh wait, that's me." Ashe shoots back to Jupiter, loud enough to be heard. "I'm curious, did I whoop you that good, or are you just deciding to let yourself go?" Almost on queue he pulls the unlit cigar out from his lips and wiggles it before returning attention towards the ring. "Dutch! You didn't drop him in one swing? Let me go find you a nice frilly tu-tu for your twinkle toes bullshit."

The corners of Roubani's eyes tense when Willem takes that face shot. Damn. He doesn't shout or cheer, watching this as though it were a polite cricket match rather than a spray of spit and sweat.

Eddie looks almost nervous, watching the fight, and so she glances around for distractions. Dark eyes light over some options, but she finally cranes around to find Ashe who she knows is back there some where. "Hey Swift." Mooner tilts over, pulling the waistband of a pair of boxers out of her sweatpants' top. "These yours?" She hears the smack, and her eyes slightly wince.

"Two points to Elder," the Master Sergeant calls, squinty eyes on the two in the ring. He removes the cigar from his mouth. "Try not to break anything, marine." He huffs, clearly amused, then goes back to stoically watching.

Kassia can't help but chuckle as the commands and banter is exchanged she's almost here for all the proud talk then the fightering. "Got a smart mouth on him that one." She comments idly.

Jupiter laughs as Willem winks, and she gives him a thumbs up, wincing a little as he promptly eats a fist. Feel that spit spray! "Shake it off, Rebound. Body, body! You didn't need those brain cells anyway! Plenty to spare."

Roubani comments soft and dry to Kassia, "Smarter fist." He takes a slow drag on the cigarette, turning his face away from the other two to exhale. Even though one's smoking, herself.

The pilot's very clearly boxed in here and probably not as an accomplished hand-to-hand fighter but he's clearly outmatched by the Marine when it comes to raw physical power. He's aware of this. Duh. Shaking his head a bit and narrowing his eyes, clearing his vision a bit. Jupe's a decent enough cheering session, one would suppose. He continues, undaunted, leading now with his off-hand and bringing a quick series of jabs towards Dutch's stomach, attempting to draw his guard away from his jaw as he brings his right hand crashing up in the direction of his jaw. But…does he hit? If only we had slow-mo in real life. This isn't "Rumble on Virgon," that's for damn sure.

Samantha remains settled on the bench off to the side of the ring. Her legs crossed, hands quite slowly and methodically going through the motions of wrapping up her knuckles. She's not really paying attention to the wrapping, just doing it by feel, her green eyes all for the fight in the middle of the ring. "Come on, Rebound!! Don't make the rest of us pick up the slack, we won't let you hear the end of it, I promise!!!"

Hale winces as the punch comes out and lands. Already not a great start, but a decent one-perhaps. Still he's whistling back "Com'on Rebound= You got this Frakker-take his bloody block off! " Hollered. Rabbit makes a grand cheerleader-sometimes.

Leaning up a bit, Ashe looks over to the 'Hey Swift' call and blinks behind his sunglasses. "Frak it Mooner! You weren't supposed to wear them, just keep them as a trophy… you better not have skidded them up!" He shakes his head then looks back towards the ring and whistles a bit. "Keep up the good show Dutch, put him down so we can move this shindig along. I got places to go and women to fantasize about."

There's a visible twinge in Kai's expression, when he sees what Dutch is doing to his pilot's face. Ducking his eyes for a moment, he finishes fishing for a cigarette, and lights up with his hand cupped around it. To protect from jostling marines, no doubt.

Dutch grunts to the smack to his chest, but it doesn't seem to deter the Sergeant. Rather Dutch stays in close as the punches come, but there are no real damage not done by him or by Willem. More like they're pussy footing around. By that it means Dutch plays defense and waits for his shot, taking time to dance and protect his body. A wry grin as the green of his mouthguard can be seen as he dances around with Willem. Eyes focused in as he keeps the dance up, wheeling Willem along, just waiting, and then there- its found

The look that comes across Dutch's eyes in that moment is clearly a :Gotchya: moment. A step as he punch opens up Willem. Quick bob to the left, and his own arm swings out in a rather wicked hook, again for the Jaw, Weight pulled in as he goes to knock the Pilot right out. DOWN GOES REBOUND

"Come on! Get up, Rebound! Don't taste Marine boot, you don't know where they been!" Sam calls out strongly, smirking to him.

Well then. Roubani watches Dutch rearrange Willem's face with a slight tensing of his jaw and nothing more. Some days you're glad you're not a medic.

Jupiter winces. She watches Willem take it like he was made for it, then yells, "He smells, Will. Don't take it personal!" What. "… Shake that … off too." Shrug. Hey, it works.

Eddie's grimace is much more defined now, as Willem kisses mat, her attention drawn back to the ring. "They're comfy." She tells Ashe, though the words come distinctly distracted now. The cigarette gets shoved back in her mouth, and she's leaning over her legs to prop her elbows just above her knees. Waiting.

If he had time to process this, and come up with a snappy riff on Sam's statement, Willem doubtless could have come up with some kind of zinger. Unfortunately the only zinging he's doing now is backwards. Flat. To the mat. Dutch's glove impacts with his chin with enough force that he, well, rebounds a sec, and it takes a second or so before he's still, staring at the ceiling, taking what appears to be another developing nasty mark that will doubtless be a badge of bloody beauty for a few days to come.

Moments pass. And finally he stirs. "Uggh." He mutters, through the mouth guard and slowly rolls on to his side.

Even the Master Sergeant reacts slightly to that shot from Dutch to Willem. Got to respect a marine who drops another man with authority. The reaction? A grunt. "Match to Elder." He steps up to the ring, and eyes the pilot. "You need a medic, son?"

Hale is cringing again. "Bloody hell." is all that Rabbit can muster. a rub of his jaw in sympathy "Crikey, that bugger can hit like a damned mule." Leave it to the Lieutenant to use farm analogies.

"Uh. No. I think I need a..Camel. Wait. No. Ice. Beer. Yeah, that's it." His forehead wrinkles as he starts to uneasily scramble to his feet, lolling his head dazedly towards the first match's victor. His reddened mouth, complete with split, bleeding lip cracks an idiotic grin at the man. "I think I've had enough medics for one day. That was good, Sergeant. Hope Cylons don't punch like that." ANd that. Was. Willem.

"Beautiful Dutch. Well done." Ashe states in a rather dry tone. "I mean, sure you picked on Air-wing? But still. I remember how much fun it was to go push around the first graders for their milk money. It's how I paid for booze in college."

Better late than never! Fenix is slipping into the gym just in time to see the latest match come to a rather… abrupt end, and upon recognizing the flattened Willem, the woman's pausing a bit in the gym's entrance. 'Brows knitting, and a somewhat darkening glance swept toward the culprit Marine. "Gods…" sighed, even as she returns to movement. Dressed in her off-duties, with dark hair left unpinned.

Dutch nods back towards the Master Sergeant with a grin as he's walking back to his corner-Hands up for the cheers of his fellow marines. Taking time to unlace and remove his gloves, before he's looking back over his shoulder. Mouthguard is spat out and placed in a pocket before he's looking back to the downed Willem and there's a nod back to his corner. "If he does I got my shit by my bag…" A look to Willem and his hand is out for a shake at least. "Hope they don't too, or it'll take me longer to maul through em. Good fight eltee." A nod, and there is no more that he will be getting.

"Swift, give me my smoke- you son of a bitch." As for the First grader comment, the Corpsman just smiles. Wide.

The Master Sergeant steps up to the box as Will refuses a medic, nods his approval, and digs out another chain. The tags on the end jingle a bit, then he palms them, flips them over, and barks out, "Marek." He shoves the stogie into his mouth again, then steps back from the ring.

Roubani pulls another drag from his cigarette, exhaling quietly through his nose. He rests his hand down on his knee, thumb flicking against the filter to send ash tumbling to the gym floor. His eyes flicker back to the ring as Kai's called up.

Fenix put her tags in the box. A while ago. Yup.

Kai flicks off his lighter, and tosses it back into his duffle bag. Smoke tucked between his lips, he hesitates a moment before wading through the crowd toward the downed Willem. Which takes a little while, because it's frakking crowded. And as luck would have it, by the time he's reached the younger pilot? His name gets called. Charming. "Swift," he offers after a moment or two's consideration. Nope, no shit-eating grins or cocky swaggering. If he's gotta pick a name, may as well make it someone who has business kicking his ass. Never mind that the kid has the advantage of roughly 15 years' worth of youth. "Hold this," he tells a pilot nearby. Jupiter, maybe.

Eddie presses her lips into a thin line as Marek's name is called, and she's quickly stubbing out her cigarette and shoving the butt into her pack. Hands steeple together and her juxtapositioned forefingers are touched to her lips, and she stays doubled over like that, almost in prayer, with her elbows on her knees.

Jupiter was looking for a smoke. She helpfully steps forward to reach up and take the cig. "On it, Captain." Not that there will be much left when she's through with it. While she's leaned over to snag the cig, she says, "Make him bleed. It'll be fun."

Edging his way out of the ring, Wil works his way out of his gloves as he slowly returns to the world of the living. He's got ears, though, and as he holds a bare hand to his bleeding mouth, his head lolls about to see who's next. Spying the Deck Chief, he blinks once or twice as he takes a good long glance at the diminutive woman and stops a moment. He stands up a bit straighter now, and pulls his hand away from his mouth long enough to grin for maybe a second or so in her direction before looking away as he heads off towards the bench. He purposely, if possible, walks on past the figure of Ashe, his blood-and-spit-covered hand hanging at his side for a moment as it's balled. Lightly taking a bloody, bodily-fluid-rich swipe at the Lance Corporal's ass once he's behind him. Gross.

Hale perks up as Kai is called and there is a grin on the tall Lieutenant's face. Big meaty hands coming out to rub together in anticipation as he looks back towards Roubani "Seems like the Cap is out fer payback eh?" A chuckle there before he's standing and clapping hard. "You got him Cap'n. Make the bugger weep like a baby!" Cue more hooting and hollering from Hale, before he is sitting back down.

Ashe says something to Dutch as he hands over the cigar and then blinks and laughs, nodding towards the rink. "I told ya. Don't matter who it is, Mooner.. Jupipoo, even the Cap, they allll want a piece of me." Sitting up, the sunglasses get pulled off and handed to Dutch while another quiet exchange takes place before he heads to the ring. While moving, a swipe at his ass has him blinking and turning to look at the source. "Eh… still better than the alternative." Crossing further towards the ring, he nods towards Jupiter. "Hey Alternative." Then the Marine slides into the ring. He may have 15 years on Kai, but Kai also hasn't gone multiple rounds in the past few days. A quick stretch of his shoulders and rolling them and he's shifting his feet. The Mouth does what The Mouth does. "Well Cap, here we are."

Jupiter takes it upon herself to guard the cigarette. And by guard, we of course mean smoke. Puff, puff, ahhhh. Sweet, sweet drugs. Her bloodstream had too much blood in it. Now, if only there was a drink nearby. "Suck it, Swift." Her cig bobs with the words.

Roubani softly clears his throat, giving Hale a thin half-smile. "I suppose he is, at that." He rubs his closed hand across his lower lip and settles his back against his chair, again ashing the cigarette onto the ground and watching the ring.

Eddie breaks her stoic position long enough to scratch at her eye, because it itches. So what if she's using her middle finger.

Fenix watches the scene play out with the uneasy bemusement of social phobia. Staying near the back of the gym, once she's dropped her tags into the black box, and pacing a bit of empty space — rare as it is — as she keeps an eye on the ring. A 'brow raised as Kai's name is raised, and a quiet smirk pulling at her features as she calls out the marine. Willem's grin earns a rather dubious look from the Chief — somewhere on par with 'what the frak were you thinking?' — before she's jerking her chin at the battered pilot. Gesturing him closer, should he bother to notice.

Dutch chuckles as he is coming closer towards Swift. If the LC want's him to lace him up. He will. Dutch glances back towards the ring and there's a shake of his head. "Put the old man out to Pasture, buddy." A pat to the man's back before he is moving up to take his seat. Cigar clamped in. A pause before he's spitting back into that cup. A long drag and a ppuff before he's chuckling. "Rmeember to watch your mouth out before you frakking make out with him. Or at least use tongue this time Swift. Tired of watching you act like a frakking school girl."

Kai pushes his way through the crowd again, fatigue jacket shrugged off and tossed on the floor by the ring. Ducking under the rope, he squares up to the young marine with a characteristic lack of emotivity. Which isn't to say he's not nervous; not in the slightest. The crowd, the pressure, the noise are making him look a little pallid in fact. But as to what he's thinking? Good luck. "Here we are, indeed. Stay away from my left knee, and I'll try not to accidentally get you in the junk. Deal?" He starts backing off slowly, rolling out his shoulders.

"Well. Figured you wanted my blood so much I had to offer. Have fun in the laundry, sweets." Wil manages to mouth, after spitting the bloody mouthguard out. Wincing a little, but he's not in danger of anything other than having a fat lip and a nasty bruise of bruises for a few days. He fumbles his way towards the bench, but rather than sit, he tears into his duffel bag and pulls out a towel to clean himself up just a little. That and a water bottle. He smirks in Dutch's direction for a second at the Sergeant's backhanded cheering of the other Marine. If he's bitter, he isn't showing it. First things first, he gives a sort of sheepish shrug towards his fellow pilots indicating a willingness to 'take one for the team,' so to speak. And back where he was looking before. The ring, the crowd. He does catch the Chief and makes a few steps over towards her with a quirked brow. He stops by the ring momentarily though, watching Kai and Ashe before continuing.

Ashe glances at Dutch and shakes his head before looking back to Kai. "Don't hit your knee, don't do this, don't do that. Do you want me to avoid sweeping out your walker as well? Should I make sure not to get sweat on your afghan?" The Marine tilts his head, his tone is rather flat but there is a twinkle in his eyes. "Just be careful, sir, I don't want you to slip on your plastic couch cover back in your rax." A few steps back and Ashe waits before looking square at someone in the middle of the ring, firing off a wink then turning and charging Kai with the intent to land a very fast blow to the pilot.@emit Ashe glances at Dutch and shakes his head before looking back to Kai. "Don't hit your knee, don't do this, don't do that. Do you want me to avoid sweeping out your walker as well? Should I make sure not to get sweat on your afghan?" The Marine tilts his head, his tone is rather flat but there is a twinkle in his eyes. "Just be careful, sir, I don't want you to slip on your plastic couch cover back in your rax." A few steps back and Ashe waits before looking square at someone in the middle of the ring, firing off a wink then turning and charging Kai with the intent to land a very fast uppercut on him.

Jupiter reaches up to touch her hand to her breastbone, and she looks to Will. "Don't make me fall in love now, Rebound!" She grins, and then turns her eyes back to the ring. Time to cheer for another pilot.

The Master Sergeant silently puffs away at his cigar, small clouds of spicy scented smoke puffing out from between his lips like some large, sweaty and tanned dragon. Don't get too close. He bites. "When ever you're finished flirting," he grunts.

There is no smack talk cometh from Kai. Maybe this is just a fight, to him. Nothing to prove, nobody's face to make mashed potatoes out of. Just a chance to let off some steam. Which, it must be said, isn't going swimmingly well thus far; as Ashe comes at him with that fast uppercut, he tries to twist aside and ends up.. torquing his knee. OW. At least he managed to dodge getting hit. There's a brief stumble, a guff of pain, and then the pilot is responding with a vicious cross aimed at Ashe's ribs.

Samantha just lofts a quiet brow, watching in a hint of curious worry as she sees Ashe and Kai going face to face. Maybe someone will finally put the Marine in his place. at least, that's what the hopefulness in her eyes seem to say.

Smoke rises in lazy spins from Roubani's cigarette. His eyes are on the fight in the ring. No flinching as Kai wrenches his knee. Just a subtle loft of one brow and his thumb gently rubbing against his temple.

Ashe blocks the swipe at his ribs with his forearm, an eyebrow going up with what could almost be considered concern towards Marek. But, since the pilot presses on, so does the Marine. Having a good height advantage, Ashe steps back and then with a dart move forward delivers a jab meant to level the Cap. The blow is straightlaced and rather picturesque of boxing stylings as The Mouth doesn't run this time, instead a furrowing of the brow in concentration is evident.

"I swear Ashe, You'l like watching a frakkin kitten bat at a dog. Weak an frakkin precious. Go on an try to start hittin, if you need a course, I'll come in there and show you how to use your damned arms." howls Dutch from the side-lines. Yeah he knows what he needs to do, and will do his own best to keep the kid back up "Come on and hit the Captain. Quit slappin around like a couple of girls in a jeller wrestlin contest." But then Dutch is closing his mouth for a moment as he watches the Captain-Might need to do some damned checking on someone this evening.

Eddie is back in her pose of mock prayer, her lips thinned out in concern, and her toes tapping on the floor as she watches. She's not smack talking, she's not cheering, she's just pensively watching.

Jupes reaches up to remove the cig from her mouth as Kai tweaks his knee. But when he's not back out, seems she decides to keep smoking. She blows out a lungful of smoke and calls, "Knock some sense into him, Spider!" Jupes trash talking is a little more sedate when she has a cigarette. "Why is no one bleeding? Come on, men!"

Fenix stays in her staked-out spot near the back of the gym, though her eyes have drifted away from the fight itself. Her eyes keep flickering back to the bloodied Willem, expression hinting at something more than a social call. Maybe he bounced another ship?

Hale winces ever so slightly while he watches the fight, though to Kai's torquing of the knee, Hale's quieting down before he is running his hand over his mouth. "Bloody 'ell.." murmured softly, before the large pilot's hands run back over his short cropped hair. A glance is given back down towards the ring. "Come on Cap!" more encouragement. That's one of the few things he is good for.

"I thought there was nothing but a coal-black core of malice and wrath in your heart, Lieutenant Jr. Grade Black." Willem says smoothly, managing to sound halfway-glib and supressing a horrible, bloody grin with a dab of his towel. He takes a swill of his water and continues to stroll back in his original direction, to get a more removed vantage point of the fight. Right by the Petty Officer First-Class. He eventually nods at the Deck Chief, looking, well, less-than-slick, now. "I drew the short straw on that one." He offers, half-joking.

Level him? What does Kai look like, an airy fairy? Okay, so maybe he is. But he's also pretty sturdy for his five feet and eight inches. As his cross gets swiped aside, he's already prepared for the counterattack— the jab clips him across the jaw, snapping his head to the side but not staggering him back. There's a grunt, and a splatter of blood from his mouth that's swiped off with the back of his hand. And then both hands are being used to grab the marine by his tank tops and attempt to bodily slam him back against the ropes. The intent, probably, is to momentarily jar him, so Spider can haul off a hook with his left arm.

Swift is unable to live up to his namesake as Kai pushes him back and is able to land a blow on him although the thick arm does lessen the shock of the blow. Pinned up back, the instincts kick in and a hard shove is sent Marek's way with a follow up swing that could only be described as an attempt to crush him as the fist comes overhead and downards. "Frak it, if you want to cuddle I need dinner first." The words snap out, apparently the bodywrestling being a bit too touchy feely.

Jupiter waves off Willem with a smirk. "There's more, I just don't let you slobs know about it." She puts the cig between her lips again, and does her best to smoke it before Kai comes looking.

Nothing quite like friendly violence. Mind, the friendly part is up for debate. Fenix is glancing back to the fight between pilot and marine as they continue to drag it out, but Willem's approach has her attention snapping back to the pilot. Expression bordering on a glare as he makes his excuse, and a shake of her head sending dark curls spilling across her forehead. "You got your words, Rebound. Marines got their fists. Until you start carvin' people up with your little speeches, I suggest you stay th' hell out of the ring." She's so good for the male ego.

Roubani's shoulders have tensed a little bit as the fight goes on. He turns his head a little to get a last drag on the cigarette and drop ti to the floor under his boot, then returns his attention to the ring.

"Get off the ropes, you tool!" comes Dutch's bark, from the sidelines. The Marine though is not so much watching his comrade in arms, as he is watching Kai's knee. That's more to the medic's concern than if Ashe is cuddling and whispering sweet, sweet nothings to Marek. "Knock him out Ashe, you can get your nails done later!"

Kai's a little occupied right now, lucky for Jupes. The shove is enough to stagger him back, owing to partly having 25 pounds' or so worth of disadvantage, and the hammer-fist clips him across the ear and briefly sends him down to the mat. Not laid out, but merely stumbled onto one knee. Scrambling to get back up quickly, Spider sends a vicious backfist to the jaw, jab, jab, uppercut to the ribs combination Ashe's way. He's definitely slower than the nineteen year old, but he's also determined.

The blows come towards Ashe and he moves, blocks and absorbs strikes from Kai in the areas where he can take them. As strikes land and he gets bloodied up, the Marine digs in and continues to absorb, looking for those opportunities to launch his counter attacks. The moment for Ashe appears when after taking a pair to his stomach, he falls back a moment then quickly jabs forward towards Kai with a quick strike in an attempt to end the match as the sweat is beginning to get far too much for casual comfort.

Willem's harmless, goofy, bloody grin fades. Fades even more as not only does the expression relax, but pats the blood away with his hand and the towel and peers at Fenix with slightly narrowed eyes, looking back at the ring as he retorts, "You honestly think you're speaking to someone who doesn't know how to take a punch?" He inquires in a low, sardonic tone, drenched with self-deprecating humor. "Think about it." Yeah, this isn't his first ass-kicking in his life, probably. Or his second.

"Knowing how an' volunteering are a bit different," Fenix mutters, still squinting up at the pilot. Studying his lip from her lower vantage point, and then releasing her breath in a quiet hiss. A last glance around the ring, and then the woman's fishing through a fatigue pocket. Pulling out a rather battered looking letter — already opened, though the back has been tucked in — and pressing the thing to the front of Willem's chest. "Pretty sure that's yours." Muttered, even as she fishes her way back into the crowd. Reaching the man guarding the tags, and after a few muttered words — something about the Deck and idiot pilots — she's retrieving her tags.

Kai's probably getting worn out, here. At least, he's letting Ashe get in more than he should, clipping a rib here, briefly knocking the wind out of him there. In the end, they're actually pretty damned evenly matched; the Captain's no slouch in the ring, but nor is he precisely steamrolling his opponent. The jab is slapped aside, but it's his failure to capitalise properly on it that has a harder hook smacking him square in the side of the head. He sways once, stumbles, and then waves off to say he's done. Surrender!

"Swift," Master Sarge calls out, "Match to you. Good fight." He eyes Marek for a moment, then nods to the pilot as well. He turns his head slightly as Fenix wanders up, and pulls a brief grin at her words. "Aye. Later this week, then." He gives the woman a nod, and turns eyes back to the ring.

As Kai loses the fight, Eddie can't sit idle anymore. Without a word or wave of parting to anyone, Mooner slips to her feet, ducks her head, and gets the frak out of Dodge. Or the gym.

Jupiter glances down at the cigarette. There's about a 2cm left. She ashes behind her, then takes another drag, and holds it in for a moment. She exhales reluctantly as the match draws to a close. She mutters something under her breath.

Dutch is shaking his head, before he's moving to the side of the ring. One hand up to the ropes, in order to pull down- so that the Marine can exit quickly, lest he becomes swamped by the pilots or anything. BUt eyes remain on Kai, for a bit longer. "Cap, you alright? Need me to take a look at anything?" At least the Corpsman is offering. Maybe buy Ashe some time to slink out.

Oddly there's no celebration from Ashe as he watches Kai stumble down then wave off. If anything the Marine looks a bit saddened as he nods and motions towards Dutch then towards Marek. Moving the ropes, he slips out of them and heads back to his spot where he'd been seated before.

As the fight draws to a close, Roubani also stands up amidst the cheering and hooting aftermath. He makes his way out as Samantha's called up, winding past the clumps of spectators.

Master Sergeant Nikos fishes into the box of tags again, and rustles them around without looking. He pulls out one, flips it, squints, and calls, "Case. Your ring. Last one for tonight, since the Captain and Lance Corporal danced the night away." He picks up the box, and offers it to Samantha. "Your opponent."

Kai is still standing, at least. Even if he might like to be ditching himself in a corner somewhere, throwing up his lunch. "Fine," he answers the approaching medic, left hand raised before he ducks out of the ring. "Good fight, Swift," It's offered a bit breathlessly to the young marine as he passes, with a slap to the back of his shoulder. Jupiter's sought out for his cigarette then, two fingers extended in a scissoring motion. If he's aware of a few pilots tucking their tails and filtering out, he gives no indication.

Samantha blinks as she sees her tags coming out and just a few left. She secures the last bit of wrapping on her hands and stands up, pulling off her sweat jacket to reveal just her tanks below. She considers the crowd, brows lofting as she looks between Hale and Jupiter. Finally, she sighs, "Come on, Fingers… Let's get all this hatred out now since I ain't goin' anywhere and you sure as hell don't like me touchin' yer brother…" Sam states flatly, nodding to the ring.

Jupiter silently hands the cigarette back, sliding it between the Captain's fingers. "Kept it warm for you." She grins, and crosses her arms, then looks past Kai as Case calls out her name. The grin widens. "On your six, Eltee."

Finding the sunglasses, Ashe slips them over his features and lifts a hand towards Marek in acknowledgement but doesn't quite speak. Instead he watches from behind the shelter of reflective lenses. When Sam is called, and she calls on Jupiter, that makes Ashe sit up and grin a bit. Apparently his life is back now that the match will be interesting. "Rip her in two Sam! She hits like a girl!"

Samantha gives a brief nod and ducks behind the ropes, biting her lower lip almost nervously. "Not the face. I think your brother is rather fond of it." Sam states with a husky voiced half laugh as she hunches down a bit, getting ready for the first dance…

"It'd be the least dumb, reckless thing I've done this year." Willem's shoulders rise and fall matter-of-factly, shrugging a tad. Upon receiving the piece of paper, the ginger-haired, red-mouthed, swollen-lipped pilot tilts his head downwards and grips the paper in something resembling surprise, judging by an incremental raise of his eyebrows. He watches the shorter woman saunter off as he peers down at the envelope, fingering it a little bit, and tucking it under his arm, brows still knit quizzically. He avoids getting blood on it though, through his ginger handling of the item. He looks back towards the ring a moment and winces a little. "Uh." After a moment or so, he just lingers by himself, tapping his foot.

Kai tucks the stub of a cigarette between his own lips again, and grimaces instantly at something. It's pulled back out, studied for a moment or two. And reluctantly returned. A cig is a cig, and they're hardly in plentiful supply right now. Even if they taste like.. strawberry lip gloss.

Dutch is nodding back towards the Captain and waiting for the pilot to get down before he is going to take a look at the knee specifically. After all- that's what he saw go out of place, and knowing a few things, given from what Ashe said, he's going to be taking extra care. " Just sit tight sir, and I'll check to see how its doing And the cigar, is manuvered out of the way so smoke does not land in Kai's face. This is what he does, and since there is no one shooting at him he can take his time while the other pilots slap it out.

Jupiter slips into the ring, and pauses on the side for help with taping up, and lacing into gloves. She glances over her shoulder. "Right with you." It's only a moment more, then she's turned back to the Lieutenant. Jupes gets things started while Sam prepares herself. She snickers at Kai's expression, a brief glance cast his way before she turns back to Case. She doesn't keep the Lieutenant waiting. Jab, jab.

Her tags obtained, Fenix is weaving her way towards the door. Pausing only briefly to glance toward the foot-tapping Willem, and as her eyes drop pointedly toward that letter, she's mouthing: read it. And then she's through the door, undoubtedly retreating to the deck.

Hale chuckles for a second, and as the Pilots file out The taller Lieutenant is moving over to where Kai is situated at, but manages to hold back, or will until the Corpsman is done. But He's remaining close by, as arms fold over his chest. A slight cough, before he's stepping a little closer. "Nice fight mate. Almost had him.." Rabbit adds softly, with a smile. Give the big lieutenant credit. He's good to have even after you don't do so well in a fight.

Samantha tosses a fairly decent punch to the woman's shoulder, landing… but not too hard to knock the woman over. Sam herself keeps her feet beneath her as she readies for the strike in her own direction. No more speaking, just the fight is all she's worrying about now.

"Great," the Master Sergeant mutters, "More footsie." He crosses his massive arms, and eyeballs the fighters in the ring as they tenderize each other politely, without risking any nails. "You can do better, Lieutenants." He sort of sounds like he means it. Gruffly, of course. It's his thing.

"Rabbit." That's all Kai says for a few moments, as the Lieutenant approaches and settles in next to him. Blue eyes are fixed on the two pilots in the ring, though there's a soft creasing at the corners of his eyes when the taller pilot speaks. "It's all right, you can spare me the condolences, el-tee. My ego isn't that fragile. He did well. Boxing's never been my strong suit." He turns his head away a fraction, to exhale smoke— and notices Dutch weaving toward him for a look at his knee. Which he suffers with about as much grace as one might expect of a brusque Sagittaron. "I'm fine," he murmurs. There's a little swelling, but probably nothing some ice and taking it easy for a few days won't clear right up.

Again. Clueless. Wil looks a bit puzzled and dazed and it may not have had everything to do with the mad slug to the jaw that he took. The main event's going on in the ring, but Wil is sort of stuck with a sluggish puzzlement and only briefly glances at Sam and Jupiter's long-awaited grudge match. He gives Fenix a slow, stiff nod and after ten seconds or so, watches her stroll off before he hesitantly looks at the envelope.

A low whistle escapes Ashe as he shakes his head and he slowly rocks himself up to his feet. Cigar back in his mouth, he fishes a lighter from his things and ignites it. The blue smoke engulfs and after blowing out ,he heads for the door. As he does move though, he tosses towards the ring. "Stay out Fingers." The words are delivered rather levelly as the Marine heads for the exit.

Jupiter shakes her head slightly and dances in close to Samantha, light on her feet. A few bruises from the other night protest, but that smile lingers on her lips. She exchanges a couple of light jabs with Case, then flips the switch to serious mode. A feign with the right, followed by a hook with the left, right to the jaw! Jupes' own jaw bruise is faintly noticeable under some concealer still. Course she was hit with bare knuckles. The result on the Lieutenant will likely be more diffuse.

Hale chuckles back to Kai, as his hand moves to claps the shoulder of the Captain. "Eh, No worries mate, Just want to let you know I still cheer for ya." a chuckle there before he is patting the CAg there on his shoulder. "Grab a drink after this mess mate?" A look to the wing, and there is a huge wince. "Ouch.." And from Hale that says a lot.

Samantha wanted to fight. She did. But her heart really isn't in it, probably noticable from just about the second or third round of punches. Whether it's still the affects of being in mourning, or the fact that she can't bring herself to hit Martin's sister… OR that Jupiter is just that much better than her, Sam's not keeping up. Her head jerks back with a crack to her jaw and she reels, stumbling just a bit, leaving herself open again, it seems.

Jupiter takes the opening, like a good soldier would. Mercy? Ha. POW. She follows up with a right to follow the previous left, though this one is delivered hard to the abdomen. She dances back after delivering it, and doesn't press, though she has the time. She's playing… more or less fair. Sort of. "Case." It's all she says.

"Frak you are Captain-" And Dutch is back to his scowling self before he is rising up and removing the cigar from his mouth. Taking time to motion over towards the Saggitarron's knee. But then the Tauron twang probably makes this more comical, or sound as harsh or harsher than it is. "I'm gonna recommend you take a break for the next couple of days, and ice it. And if you can't part from your crotch rocket" a common term for a viper "Then I am gonna say at lease one day not on Cap, and the rest, you can fly- but remain very light on your legs. Take it easy..Pain meds as you see need fer." A cough and the cigar is put back in his mouth. "Might check with medical just to be certain, but that's the best I can tell."

Samantha is down. Ouch, dammit, all the wind knocked out of her and her head spinning from the punch to the jaw, she just sinks to her knees… and then the mats. For a moment the room is black. She's not getting up, not even to smart talk. That -hurt-.

The Master Sergeant picks up the box of dogtags, and gives it a shake. Jingle, jingle. "Take yours." He nods to the ring. "Match to Black." He eyes the Jig to be sure she stays on her side of the ring, instead of encroaching back into Case's. Satisfied, he tosses the box to the corner of the ring with a rattle, and waits. "Elder, get in there and see to the pilot."

Eventually, and rather self-consciously, Wil begins plodding over towards the pilot's general bench, water bottle in one hand along with that piece of paper under his arm, dabbing his lip with the gory towel again. He clears the space to his duffel bag and gingerly(here's to using -that- word a lot) stuffs the paper back into the sack. He looks over at Hale and Kai. "Good fight, Captain."

A drink. A drink? "Sure." Kai's head briefly turns in Hale's direction, and there's a nod before he's dragged back to the fight playing out. Poor Samantha. The Captain's silent as he pulls from his sorry excuse for a cigarette, the shoulder-pat mometarily distracting him from Dutch's lecturing. "Yeah, I'll keep an eye on it. Thanks." He favours the medic with a half-hearted flicker of a smile, then nods to Wil as he passes. "You too. You've got balls, kid."

Dutch turns his head and grunts "Right-Sarge." said back to Nikos, before he is moving and heading back into the ring, and he's walking over and well kneeling down over Samantha. A squint of his eyes for a second before he's bringing a hand to slap her cheek, a little hard in order to bring her back too, before fingers snap and move before the pilot's eyes "Lieutenant. I need your name- rank, and what today is.."

Jupes shoves a glove under her arm, and tugs them off once the laces are loosened. She leaves them at the corner of the mat with the other equipment, and reaches over to fetch her tags, leaving Sam to the gentle hands of the CMC. Ha. She isn't gloating, she's actually quiet. But there's a tension gone from her shoulders that was lingering there earlier.

And Willem's brows are knit as he watches the slaughter go down in fight-town. He looks particularly unhappy with each blow that's exchanged at this point, right up towards the end. He then sighs, at the eventuality of it all. "Well. That was a long time coming." Speaking the obvious, he shrugs at Kai dismissively as he addresses the compliment with pure dismissal. "More like I have shit luck of the draw, sometimes. Next time I roll out to one of these are they going to throw a bloody Centurion at me?"

"Knowing how you do against Raiders-Wil I think you could break a Centurion." A chuckle there from Hale before he's nodding back to Kai. That big hand of his squeezes her shoulder before he's moving to head on out- and well raid his liquor stash in order so that he and the cap can enjoy a little. And out goes the tall Pilot.

"That's what I meant," the Captain answers, briefly glancing at Wil. "It takes balls to be handed the short straw twice in a row, and to get up there and do it anyway. Give yourself some credit." He's already looking away by the time he says that part. Watching Samantha carefully, and then flicking his eyes over Jupiter and her absolving of tensions.

Jupiter reaches up to slide her tags over her head with a rattle. She drops the chain, and leaves them to fall against her chest where they may, right side out or not. "Spider. Rebound." She says their callsigns like an aloha, then turns toward the hatch.

Kai fetches his own dogtags and his fatigue jacket, eyes steady on Samantha until he's sure she's all right. And even then, he heads toward her while slinging his tags over his head. "Going to pull through there, Case?"

Samantha blinks up to Dutch, head spinning, but she's more just trying to get her breath back than anything. It was the stomach punch that did it…"…Samantha Passi… Lieutenant… it's… frakking…I don't know…how the frak to you keep track of things on this ship?" She growls out, muttering as she pushes herself into sitting and then attempts to stand.

"You buy a frakkin watch or check your little flowered date book, Lieutenant." Dutch barks right back, there's a scowl further "Hold up- you don't have a concussion, but don't go messing around, frakking break yourself worse than bulls an china. Raise your shirt." There's no real genteel, or great bedside manner with the Corpsman. He at least waits a bit, and checks her ribs, before nodding for a moment. "Alright-Here's the deal Lieutenan Passi. You have no immediate broken bones. But I spect your left lower rib, right here." a poke "Is going to be badly bruised. Get it checked-dammit." And with that the Medic is turning and heading for his things. All and all a successful night for the Corpsman. Checkups and a KO. Whooo Dutch.

Master Sarge picks up the empty box, once all the tags are claimed, and shoves it under his arm. He nods to those left in the room. Once he's relatively sure no one's permanently injured, he nods, and lumbers off toward the hatch. Keeper of the Box. Man with the plan. Dude with the stogie. Nikos returns from whence he came, to the deepest pit in the center of Marine Country.

Samantha looks over to Kai, smirking quietly…"Think I'll be more than fine, sir… Back in the ship tomorrow, after all.."

A glance to Hale and Kai once more. "I'd rather not test that while I still have immaculate teeth." Wil's mouth twitches in a bit of a smile. Again, a bit ghoulish as he looks faintly off-guard and puzzled by the switfly departing Jupiter. But then he turns a bit red at the Captain's words. "I'm a student of inevitability, Sir." He says, a bit pensively. He then shoots Sam a -look-. For all the todo about him going down, she looks like she went down a lot harder.

Samantha evidently doesn't need her CO loitering about and getting underfoot, so with a curt nod to dismiss himself, he turns and starts for the hatch. "We all are, Lieutenant," he calls back to Willem, once he's halfway there. His tone of voice is wryly amused, even with no smile in sight. And then he's thunking out.

Raise her shirt? They not only get to see her go down but they get a free SHOW? Sam's eyes widen a bit, but she smirks to Dutch and rolls up her tanks, showing off that, yes, her ribs are going to be hurting tomorrow. But nothing really looks or feels out of place. She smirks to Dutch and pulls her shirt back down…"You worry more than a Sagittaron mother…" She mutters, pulling herself into standing as she heads out of the ring.

Yeah like Dutch wants a view of something everyone on Kharon has already seen three times. All the same the gruff Marine has packed up his shit, and slung it over his shoulder, before going to take the triumphant march back to Marine country. And yes he can be seen smoking and muttering the whole damned way.

Samantha makes certain her tags are back in place and, moving gingerly but not OVERLY hurt…she heads towards the doorway to duck out. Fight's done… still feeling oddly numb, she doesn't quite seem to have a purpose to where she is going… Just out the door.

Willem lingers a bit. Loiters a bit here as the crowd begins to disperse. He shoots Sam a -look—, though, before she goes, muttering, "Maybe you understand now, Lieutenant."

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