Glass and Fire - Two Against One

Posted on Thu Oct 9th, 2025 @ 8:55pm by Commander Rosa Coy

762 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: Character Development
Location: USS Sunfire Gym

The deck plates groaned beneath her as Rosa pivoted back into stance. Sweat dripped into her eyes, blurred her vision, but she blinked it away. The first of the two holo-opponents—massive shoulders, ridged brow—was already circling. The other flanked to the right, quick for his size.

They knew how to box her in.

Rosa let her breath steady, controlled, body rocking with the loose swagger of drunken boxing. Arms low, hands open, inviting. The stance wasn’t about elegance; it was about deception. About making her enemies underestimate her until it was too late.

The one on the right lunged first, fist cocked for a rib strike. Rosa leaned back, letting the punch skim her midsection. Even as she dodged, the second enemy swept in with a brutal hook.

The strike caught her in the abdomen.

White heat burst through her gut. Rosa doubled, gagging.

—AHH! Idiot girl! That’s me you’re tearing open! Coy’s voice cracked, ragged in her skull, no longer just cruel but wounded. Do you even care if we survive this?

Rosa’s lips peeled back in a feral grin. “That’s the point.”

She twisted low, rolled onto her palms, then kicked both legs upward like a whip. Her heels struck the jaw of the first holoform, snapping his head back. The second tried to grab her ankle, but she spun with the motion, dragging him forward and using his own bulk to slam him into the deck.

The onlookers gasped—half from the violence, half from the audacity of her movements.

Break yourself. That’s your only talent. But if you take me down with you— Coy cut off, wincing as Rosa rolled free and charged again.

The first enemy regained footing, snarling. Rosa rushed him, feinted left, then darted in close. Too close. Her hands shot up, caught his collar, and she leapt, locking her thighs around his neck. She twisted violently, her body weight becoming a fulcrum. The holoform’s balance broke; Rosa spun him down hard enough that his skull cracked against the simulated deck.

The figure fizzled into static, erased.

The second barreled at her with a roar. She barely had time to wipe blood from her lip before he slammed into her.

The impact threw her backward, skidding across the deck. Pain flared along her spine. Her lungs refused air. She wheezed, rolled, spat copper.

There it is. Helpless. Face down. That’s how they’ll all see you in the end—

“Shut UP!” she roared, shoving herself upright. Her voice cracked through the gym loud enough that the crowd hushed.

The remaining holoform swung again. Rosa ducked, too slow—its fist clipped her temple, sending her staggering. Dazed, she fell into the ropes of the program’s environment, her vision fractured into shards.

And then—

The world steadied. She pulled a breath into her chest, shallow but real, and let her arms fall loose again. Drunken boxing. Flow with it. Lure him in.

The brute charged. Rosa spun sideways, her foot snaking behind his ankle, her body pressing low against his center of gravity. She pulled, twisted, and used his momentum to send him crashing forward. He hit the deck with a thunderclap, her knee already driving into the back of his neck.

The holoform dissolved.

The room erupted in murmurs, whispers, a smattering of applause quickly hushed.

Only now, with enemies gone, did Rosa realize how many had gathered. Crew in workout gear. Two ensigns she recognized from navigation. And near the back, arms folded, face intent but unreadable—Cadet Sira.

Rosa’s breath shuddered in and out. She swiped sweat from her brow, smearing blood across her cheek in the process.

And there it is. Your audience. Do you want them to clap? To whisper how dangerous little Rosa Prilen is? Or maybe just—

“End program,” she growled.

The holo-gym blinked clean, leaving her standing alone in the stark emptiness. Except she wasn’t alone. The crowd lingered, silent, waiting.

Rosa’s eyes flicked once to Sira. Then away.

Her stomach cramped where the blow had landed, Coy silent now but simmering beneath the surface. Rosa pressed her palm against her ribs, drew a long, shaking breath, and forced her mouth into a thin smirk.

“Nothing to see. Just exercise,” she told the watchers. Her voice was hoarse, but it carried.

A few laughed awkwardly, began to disperse. Some stayed, eyes still drawn to her like moths to flame.

Sira did not move.

TBC

 

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