Zero-G: Training [1]

“Keene and Ploski.”

Gabe righted himself, rotating to press his feet against the pads and pressing against his hold on the tether.  Releasing the tether, he launched towards the red start position.  It was smooth sailing across the 15 meters or so, gliding to the platform over the heads of his fellow trainees.

He rolled a bit in flight, making it look easy to some of the others only because he had so much more experience in low or no gravity situations.  “Zero-G!” someone barked support from his side, his team for this particular drill - the side with the most wins had a week free from cleaning duties.

Passing the platform, Gabe grabbed the edge with his right hand, letting his momentum rotate him back first onto the padding.  With a kick, his foot tucked under the webbing and held him in place when he bounced.

Ploski worked his way to the base of the blue platform.  Less time off Earth, Ploski was still getting comfortable with zero gravity conditions.  But he was tough, strong and athletic, so he was learning fast.  Reaching the base, the tall blond launched up to the blue octagon.  Unlike Gabe, Ploski hit the bottom straight on and grasped the edge with both hands before pushing off with his foot to rotate onto the launch face.

“Thank you, gentleman.”  Sergeant Barnes barked up, his voice echoing through the chamber.  “Now that Private Ploski has enjoyed his nice walk, maybe we can continue.  Any time, ladies.”

A few more “Zero-G”s were yelled from below, but died quickly under Barnes’ glare.  Gabe appreciated the enthusiasm, bit knew it was love-hate anyway.  Gabe’s father was a master gunner sergeant in the Corp back when the first military grade ships were being readied for planet-to-planet voyages.  Seeing the future opportunities for his children, his parents had enrolled all the children in gymnastics programs and started bone density enhancement back when the procedures were maligned around the globe as medical testing on children.

It had paid off over a decade later.  Between his parents’ efforts and a nine months stint on an extra hand on an asteroid crawler, Gabe was Zero-G to most of the recruits in camp.

Ploski rotated to the same crouch Gabe had used from the inner hull.  Gabe came to one knee, holding the surface with both hands and waiting.  Barnes gave the order to start, “Get it on, maggots!”

Both men pushed off, sailing towards each other across the twenty meters separating the platforms.  Gabe kept his arms and legs tight the way they were instructed to minimize profile if facing enemy fire.  As they closed, Gabe could see Ploski was off a bit, by enough angle they would just be able to reach each other as they passed.  It wasn’t as bad as yesterday, when Schaefer had blown so off course he’d missed his opponent by a meter and a half.  

As they closed, Gabe pulled his arms up to cross his chest.  Ploski did the same, but was already reaching out with one hand, appearing nervous about his angle.

Barnes wasn’t nice when someone failed a launch.

Ploski reached for his arm, but Gabe evaded, letting Ploski slide past.  The other recruit doubled over, scrabbling to snag Gabe’s belt or pants.  Gabe shifted around to keep free, doubling up to pull his legs free.  Just as he sailed past, Gabe grabbed Ploski’s leg and unfolded until his body’s full momentum brought them to a full stop.  It was a risky move, Gabe’s grip could have failed sending them both spinning away.

But it held.  Ploski grunted an obscenity and looked down and back towards Gabe, “What the hell was that?”

Gabe pulled with both hands, spinning past Ploski as they both reversed course: Ploski dropping feet first and Gabe sliding past.  Ploski tried to leverage Gabe’s grip to turn, but only managed to get a weak grip on the front of Gabe’s shirt as they closed.  

Ploski managed to turn as Gabe brought his legs up, split wide to wrap Ploski’s waist.  The taller recruit tried to kick free, but only managed to turn himself yet again.  Gabe locked on Ploski’s torso and reached across his shirt to force his forearm up and into his throat.  Ploski tucked his chin and tried to head butt Gabe from the side.  With that, they closed and the grappling began in earnest.

“No way to win, you can go ahead and barf.”  It was a cheap shot.  Ploski had suffered from mild nausea his first few days in space.  

“Screw you, G.  I’m going to beat you like your daddy did your mommy after he saw you the first time.”  The comeback was broken up a bit, both men’s torsos were tense to maintain some control.

They were also spinning now, but not on any dangerous trajectory.  It was a bit distracting and even dizzying for someone with as much experience as Gabe, but he mostly ignored it and hoped Ploski couldn’t.

Ploski had an elbow fending Gabe off and was pushing his thumb into a pain point inside Gabe’s thigh.  It hurt, but it was off enough it wasn’t that bad.  But the elbow was hard to get around, hard to move through and Ploski was slowly gaining enough distance he’d be able to grab Gabe’s throat if things didn’t change soon.

Keep moving, he told himself.  Ploski was bigger and, apparently, stronger than Gabe.  But he didn’t have the experience.

Gabe released with his legs, letting himself be pushed back a bit.  He slid his hands up Ploski’s arm, closing them around the man’s left hand.  A kick to Ploski’s waist let Gabe start to rotate around the same wrist, taking it closer to hyperextension.  Ploski pulled in reflexively, trying to escape the wrist lock he could see coming - though it was farther away than it would have been on Earth.  Hard to unbalance someone who has no footing.

But the move worked.  Ploski should have curled up, trying to bring his legs into the combat.  Instead, he gave Gabe the momentum to circle around behind, slowly locking the elbow and then the shoulder.

It still wasn’t a finishing hold in space, unless Gabe locked his legs around Ploski’s waist again.  But the lock would remain tentative, so Gabe let go and grabbed the other man’s shoulders instead.  Gabe snaked his left arm around the man’s throat from under his armpit.  His momentum transferred through the grip and altered their spin.  

Ploski felt the arm on his neck and fought to get a hand underneath before realizing Gabe’s other arm would finish the lock.  It was over in seconds, Gabe catching the lock and tucking his head into the back of Ploski’s shoulder until Barnes called a halt.

Floating free of each other, they gripped hands.  Gabe shifted their rotation and pushed off, both men sailing back towards their own side of the sphere.