Posted by Ensign Rand Farquharson (Yeoman) in Hand-to-Hand Training

Posted by Lieutenant Charles Fordham (Security Chief) in Hand-to-Hand Training

Posted by Ensign Rand Farquharson (Yeoman) in Hand-to-Hand Training
Posted by… suppressed (4) by the Post Ghost! 👻
Lt Fordham had made the offer, even requesting when her normal ‘free’ time was. So she knew she was welcome even if she wasn’t expected. She’d gone to the quarter master to get a workout uniform for the gymnasium to be releaved to find they had some for the female crew on board and they weren’t....well she was happy to find they were appropriate. “Hey Randy, I’ll be back later, should be before the reports are due, okay?”

Rand entered the gymnasium through the smaller locker rooms. She changed and then entered the main gymnasium. She wasn’t sure how she felt about if the class was full of security personnel, but it was a skill that she had always wanted to learn and she wasn’t required to socialize with the whole lot of them. She simply had to follow directions. She didn’t see anyone prepping for a class and so she decided to checkout some of the other equipment while she waited.
Yeoman Rand

Ford entered in the fleet standard workout uniform - which he loathed, but standards were standards. This period he would have one or two security officers and expected most of the rest to be personnel from other sections - he knew at least one from engineering and two from science that would be coming.

And Ensign Rand, it appeared. She was over by the other exercise equipment, and none of the other students were here just yet, so he approached.

“Glad you came,” he greeted her. “This should be a class on the smaller size - three to four others from different sections and a couple of my security people to help.” On cue, one of the security officers and a science officer walked in, talking, and the others a few paces behind.

Rand smiled as he walked over. Relieved that he predicted a smaller class. One it was fewer people to deal with, and two that meant more time offered per student. “I’m looking forward to it.” She wasn’t really sure what to say, but the comment was genuine. She was excited to try, even if she failed miserably. Failure, for Rand, wasn’t a boogey man it was for some. She didn’t mind failing exactly, unless she didn’t learn from it. But before she could say more other officers began to enter. Rand walked over to where the rest were waiting.

“Hi everybody,” he began. “Thanks for coming. I appreciate you all being willing to put in the effort to learn how to defend yourselves; it makes my job a lot easier,” he joked.

“We’re going to start with a warm up run, twice around this deck. Let’s go.” He’d found a run limbered muscles and for blood flowing far better than lengthy exercises, and not giving the announcement a chance to soak in was usually better than giving them time to consider not wanting to do it. He exited the room at a jog already, taking a right down the hallway. One of the security people took up the rear as the last person headed out the door.

COS Ford

Rand fell into line as everyone made their way out. She loved to run and learned to pace herself in the highlands of Scotland so the flat of a starship deck was easy. She found she had to check her pace behind the officer in front of her. The security officer in the rear she heard grunt a couple of times and glanced back. He gave her an apologetic glance. She understood the pace was a bit slow for her. The officer in front of her kept glancing back and if she was too far away (to give him room) he slowed again. First break in the oncoming crew, and Rand passed the officer in front of her, easing into an easy lope. She didn’t hear it but the security officer in the rear laughed at the bemused expression of the man she’d just passed. Running was easy for her, and she tended to forget what else was going on, simply concentrating on the air moving in and out of her lungs and her muscles stretching into the pace.

At some point she’d settled into a steady rhythm and Ford would hear her coming up behind him. She wasn’t trying, barely breathing harder than at rest, she was just running.
Yeoman Rand

Ford noted the change in footfalls behind him and glanced back. He chuckled as he saw Rand approaching. “Should have known it would be you,” he said. He waved her ahead. “Don’t let my pace hold you back. I need to set it for these guys.” He chucked a thumb over his shoulder at the remaining students. “Just don’t wear yourself out!”

Running was kind of like meditating for her so when Ford spoke to her she blinked once and turned to look at him and then glanced back. Ooops, she shortened her stride just a bit falling into a pace behind him. She smiled, “They were trying to set it for me,” she nodded back at the end of the line. She knew they were trying to be nice, but she also knew that forcing a slower pace than what was comfortable had its own consequences. She lengthened her stride back out coming even with him, “Wear myself out on this course? Not possible.”

He turned when the hall was clear, running backwards, checking on how the rest were doing. “Come on, let’s keep it going, you got this,” he called before facing forward again. It was an easy course, and short; he’d build them up to more. Scientists used to sitting in labs need a little more work than a security officer.

When they finished the two lap circuit he had them do a cool down lap around the gymnasium and passed out water bottles. “Good pace,” he commented to Rand as he handed one to her. “Have you taken any kind of combat sport or martial art before?” he asked, the same question he was asking all of the others. “Boxing, wrestling, judo, anything at all.” He was plotting the day’s lessons in his head, and this would help.

COS Ford

Rand looked a little sheepish, “Sorry Lt. I tend to loose myself when I run.” She took the water, “Thank you,” and sipped it. Unlike most of the others who were eager to guzzle it, she sipped it slowly still walking the edge of the gymnasium, letting her heart rate fall slowly. “Just the couple of sessions I told you about with the academy instructor.” She didn’t think fighting and wrestling with her brother when they were kids counted. “He called it ‘self-defense’ and wasn’t anything like combat training. It was a handful of techniques for grabs and holds,” she recited it as Cmdr Risca had described it.
Yeoman Rand

Ford nodded. “This will be a little more… offensive than that.” He could, and would, teach some joint locks, but he preferred striking distance. He called everyone to line up again.

“We’re going to start real basic here - how to stand. I can already see some looks, but every part of a punch starts with the stance.” He looked across the crowd, making sure he had eye contact from everyone. “A basic stance is feet just about shoulder-width apart, and, in general,” he continued, “your dominant side will be slightly behind the rest of your body.” He demonstrated, then walked around making minor corrections before returning to the front.

Rand moved into line with the rest, but quickly moving to a second row when she realized there wasn’t enough room to move. Being on the taller side for a woman it wasn’t a problem. She positioned herself between the two people in front of her to have a clear view. She found she’d naturally lead with her dominant side and had to switch which felt strange.

“Great. Now, hands. Make a fist - and a common mistake is to tuck the thumb inside the fingers, or to leave it sticking out. Tuck your fingers into your palm, and then wrap the thumb across the bottom.” He held his hand up so everyone could see. “Now, we hold them up in front of the body - not the head,” he said to one of the engineers. “The head is the most mobile part of the body, we can move it, or bring the hands up higher. Our chest and abdomen are less mobile, so we keep our hands here.” Again he demonstrated, and walked around making a correction here and there.

She knew how to make a fist because she’d made that mistake with the academy instructor and dislocated her thumb. She never made that mistake again. She held her fists in front of her, a bit lower than shoulder height, too close together.

“You want to keep your arms relaxed, easier to move,” he continued. “And ready to strike. Let’s start with our first punch - the jab.

“The jab is a quick, fast punch with your front hand. It starts right here, where we’re holding our hand, and goes straight out.” He threw the punch out, and kept his arm extended. “The part of the hand we’re hitting with are these first two knuckles.” He tapped them, walked around making sure everyone could see. “These line up with the bones in the forearm, so they get support, and you can add bodyweight to the punch - we’ll get to the later. These other knuckles” - he tapped the last two, the pinky and ring finger - “have no support, and hitting with them is likely to hurt you more than your opponent. Let’s try a few of these in air, and then we’ll break out some pads to try punching a target.”

The class was small, which was good, because it meant he could quickly walk by each person and correct any errors - a high elbow here, over-rotated wrist there - and ask if each had any questions.

“How’s it feel?” he asked Rand as he watched her trying the technique out.

COS Ford

Rand was practicing the jab, and it wasn’t bad exactly, but had no power behind it, and her aim was off. A combination of holding her fists too close together, and her shoulders being very stiff. “A little awkward. I don’t know how else to describe it. It just feels…unnatural.” She tilted her head to the side both ways easing the cramp in her shoulders. “I know I’m doing something wrong because if I actually hit someone my knuckles aren’t lined up right.”
Yeoman Rand

Ford nodded. “There’s nothing actually natural about the way humans fight,” he said, looking closely at her stance and hands. “You’re tense - relax. You’re actually fighting against moving right now. That’s all we’re working on right now is the movement - we’ll get to how to add more power behind it later.” He looked at her shoulders again and then her hands, and reached toward them, pausing a few inches away.

“May I?”

COS Ford