2236-11-19 - Play Soldiers

Gustavo and Cate discuss the difference between Army and Marines over a Pyramid game.

Date: 2236-11-19

Location: Pyramid Court

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 882

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As far as Tavo is concerned, the second best thing about Galactica is that there's a pyramid court onboard. The best thing, of course, is that he's not neck-deep in inter-clan squabbles. His sleeveless shirts are soaked through with sweat, his brow glistening as he posts up against an imaginary opponent, bodying him back with a roll of his shoulders and an expansion of his legs, and then turns and hurls the ball at the target. The throw clips the edge of the hole and ricochets in, and Tavo pulls up the front of his outer tank, wiping his face before he goes to retrieve it, breathing hard. Evidently, he's been in here for a while.

Cate wanders in from the gym proper, dressed in her CF-issue sweatpants and a matching hoodie that mostly hides her tanktops. She pauses outside the lines marking the court proper. "Nice shot. You enjoying your alone time or feel like a little one-on-one?" she asks with a little smile.

Gustavo scoops up the ball and lets the shirt fall, offering up a grin, "Thanks." His voice is low, but falls short of a true rumble that some might expect from someone of his size. The grin fades into a dubious look for a moment as she offers up the one-on-one, and he hesitates, and then steps forward to offer out the ball, "If you'd like, I wouldn't mind. Have you been playing long?" The last question actually has a sort of concerned tone to it.

Cate takes the ball, shrugging. "Since I was a kid, but I don't know how much playground games count for." She smirks, as if conscious of the size differential. "Just try not to break anything." She lines up on the ready line, placing the ball on the floor. "I'm Cate by the way. Rhodes," she adds, an afterthought of someone still not completely used to calling all her friends by their last names.

Gustavo nods at the answer, although the warning causes him to chuckle, and he flashes a broad smile, "Tavo. Tavo Delgado." And in Leonese, that's a joke, considering how broad he is. "And I've been playing against people smaller than me most of my life. I'm pretty good at not breaking things." Following the medic over to the ready line, he crouches down to guard her movement. He doesn't get as near as he might with someone he knew or was playing against for 'real,' just keeping one hand at her back rather than trying to plaster her. Then again, he might also be counting on the size difference to make up for a looser guard. "Navy or the play-soldiers?"

Cate, not knowing a lick of Leonese, somehow the irony. "Yeah, I can imagine. Unless you come from the land of giants." Cate is fairly tall herself for a woman, but he still dwarfs her. It's not until she crouches down that she decides to take her hoodie off. It's chucked over onto the bench in short order and then she starts to play. And it probably becomes quickly apparent that she can, actually, play. Not overly competitive, but definitely competent. "Play soldiers?" she echoes in amusement, not really answering the question.

Gustavo is definitely taking it easy on her at first, and probably gets scored on early... not easily, but more easily than he should be. "Play soldiers. The Marines. That's where they have me. The Colonials apparently can't handle something as serious as an Army without just a touch of Navy in it." Despite being so big, Tavo's game doesn't seem predicated on simply using his size, but rather combining that with a touch of finesse here and there, a hook shot, a bit of misdirection to go for a steal, that sort of thing.

Cate does manage to score early, though he makes her work for it. "Pretty light on your feet for a big guy," she observes, a touch impressed. She chuckles softly at his assessment. "Army, marines... same difference, isn't it? Both fight on the ground and kill Toasters."

"I played some ball in school." Gustavo's remark is self-deprecating, and he shrugs, paying more attention to his defense as he takes a measure of his opponent. "The Marines, they fly around in Navy birds. The Army, we walk. Or cut trails for our trucks through the jungle." Which may place his home colony as readily as his accent. "But yeah, when you get down to it, we both fight on the ground and break toasters." There's just a hint of emphasis on the differentiation between 'kill' and 'break,' but it's a subtle sort of thing.

Cate tests those defenses, at one point falling for one of his mis-directions and giving him the perfect chance for a steal. "We've got trucks too," she points out mildly. "But I dunno, I'd rather fly over a jungle than cut through it. Not that I've ever seen a jungle."

"Soft things, trucks." Didn't he just say that trucks are what proper army men have? He stops talking for a moment as he slashes into the steal, aiming a swat at the inside of her elbow, and then going for the ball with the other hand. He's keeping things short of tackling, but apparently he's not shy about contact. His offense, with a size advantage like this, seems to focus on backing up to his opponent and bouncing the ball off a backboard when he needs to take additional steps, taking the misses voluntarily and counting on his accuracy to keep him safe when he needs to make an actual shot. "The Army moves on the heel-and-toe express. The jungle makes you strong." Or he's just taking the piss.

"Wait, so now you're against trucks? What happened to cutting trails for them through the jungle?" Cate asks, amused. She doesn't seem to be bothered in the slightest by the disparagements of the marines. But then, Cate isn't a typical marine. "Lots of ways to get strong, don't you think?" There's a soft grunt at the contact, but she's used to mixing it up and stays right with him.

"Oh, they're okay for headquarters people. But a line soldier would never take a ride in one." Exactly when he would, of course. Once he has the ball, his advance on the goal is not on the nearest one, but rather an oblique assault on the next one over, working to move around his smaller opponent rather than through her. "Sure there are. And they're all good. You never mentioned what branch you were in, Rhodes."

"Oh, I'm just a play-soldier with soft feet who's never seen a jungle in her life," Cate replies good-naturedly, using said soft feet to try and dart in front of him to halt that advance on the goal.

Stymied from his original goal, Gustavo takes his last step to one side, and then ricochets the ball off one of the other pillars, aiming to take the rebound up high, out of Cate's reach. "Well good. At least you ain't Navy. Most of the Marines on the ship are at least good at their jobs."

Cate reaches for it, but comes up short. She tries to elbow her way in to knock him off-balance instead to keep him from actually doing anything with the rebound. "No, but for the record - I think the Navy guys are pretty great," she says, starting to get a little out of breath from the game. "Take a few rides on a Raptor threading its way through anti-aircraft fire, you might think differently."

Gustavo 'oofs' at the elbow, folding over a little bit before he goes for another two steps closer to the goal, using his backside to clear some space, "That's why the Army uses trucks and our boots." He feints up, and then goes for a side-long hook-shot toward the goal, "I get enough fire on the ground. I don't need it anywhere else."

"Thought only headquarters people used trucks," Cate teases back. "And last I checked... it was kinda hard to walk from a Battlestar down to where the Toasters are." She tries to block the shot, but it hooks around her fingers and scores. "Nice hook."

"You have no idea how many of those I've shot." Still, Tavo nods his head in thanks for the compliment, stepping back and wiping his face with his shirt once more. "Maybe you're right. But get the Scorpian Army down there, and we'll stack them up high enough to climb back to the battlestar again after." There's a pause as he flips the ball back to her and walks toward the neutral zone, ready for her to start another possession, but he finally has a verbal riposte to the continued war of trucks, "Headquarters people are still Army."

"I'll take your word on that one," Cate observes. "From what I hear on the news, they sure have a lot of experience fighting." Mostly each other, though she leaves that part unsaid. "I'm gathering you've been in the army for awhile." She puts the ball back on the starting line. As soon as the action begins, she tries to bounce it off a backstop to catch it on the other side of him.

She may leave it unsaid, but Tavo grumps, "Yeah, each other." He's distracted enough by the thought that she gets clean around him, and has to do his best to burst after her and reach over from above to try to block any shot, "Hah! Nice. And yeah. Nearly ten years."

Cate tries to wriggle out from his blocks to make a shot, but it's a crappy one and goes wide. "Thanks. Ten years. Nice. They have many Toasters on Scorpia?"

Gustavo chases down the ball to collect it, controlling his heavy breathing as best as he can. "Not many. Couldn't afford 'em. Didn't trust 'em. Smashed the ones we had." As he walks back toward the neutral zone, he notes, "Use more hand or whole arm on your shots. Too much elbow throws off the angle, especially when you can't set before you shoot." He demonstrates the difference in the motion from something approaching the angle she shot from, although he doesn't loose the ball either time.

"Lucky," Cate muses, on their lack of Cylons. "Hope you got to smash a few." She nods to his advice, taking the pause as a chance to catch her breath. "All right."

Gustavo grounds the ball as she nods at the advice, wiping his face with his shirt once more and then wiping off his free hand again as well, "A couple of them. We had a dozen or so at my base. They didn't last long. You?"

Cate waits for him to start, then busies herself trying to steal it away from him. "Yeah, a few. But I'm a medic. I'm more interested in counting saves than kills," she says, downplaying the battles. She draws an arm across her face.

"Good." Tavo goes straight back this time, three quick steps to try and push her out of his line, and then a spin to bounce the ball off a backboard up high again. If he had chosen the right direction, it would have been a great move, but since he chose the direction she's coming from, he ends up with a near-literal face-full of medic, halting his momentum and finding himself a little stuck rather than plowing into her. "Saving lives is more important than counting coup."

"To a point. But if we don't kill the Toasters, there won't be any people left to save," is Cate's grim assessment. "So I'd call them both about equally important. "Hah, that almost worked, she jokes when his bounce move goes awry, doing her best to stymie him.

Gustavo finds himself shut down by the smaller woman, stuck holding the ball up high with no ability to take any more steps, "You don't kill toasters. You disassemble them." At least that's his opinion. After having fought all of half a dozen of them.

"Call it what you like. I 'disassemble' my rifle. When it comes to mass-murdering intelligent and twisted-as-frak robots, I kill them," Cate's voice takes on a hard edge there. Having blocked his advance, she waits for him to make the next move.

Gustavo shrugs slightly at her response, and then settles for a long, slightly off-center shot. Just like his last solo shot, it's nearly a miss, but manages to just hit the cupped goal and go in. Nodding to himself, the big man does not chase down the return this time, "Agree to disagree. I don't like shooting people. I don't mind shooting toasters. I think that's it for me though. Thanks for the game. Spot you a point next time?"

"I don't like shooting people either. Doesn't stop me from shooting Toasters," Cate continues to disagree mildly. She nods. "But yeah, thanks. Good game. And I don't suck enough to need charity," she snorts at the thought. "If you win, you win."

Gustavo shrugs his broad shoulders as he mops at his face and arms with his shirt again, "Not charity. Call it evening the playing field, since I'm not gonna play on my knees. Your call though. Happy to play any time."

"Wouldn't expect you to," Cate replies with a smirk. "See you around," she offers, and continues to practice some on her own as he's on the way out.


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