Posted by Lieutenant Commander Ethan Nash (Chief Engineer) in Atlantis Gym - A Story about a Boy, a Girl and what lurks unseen

Posted by Lieutenant Devon Rand (Intelligence Officer) in Atlantis Gym - A Story about a Boy, a Girl and what lurks unseen

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Ethan Nash (Chief Engineer) in Atlantis Gym - A Story about a Boy, a Girl and what lurks unseen
The morning after a decent drinking session always hurt. It hurt from the moment before you opened your eyes. The moment during and the moment after. It was comforting, that hurt. Familiar. Like a companion that was always at your side. Some would say that Nash drank too much, Nash would tell them to shut their mouth.

Nash would also then roll out of bed and regret that drinking, only for a moment though. It was a curse, he thought, in how he always woke up early no matter how much he drank. It was part of his routine to be honest. Nash would drink till he fell asleep and then wake up early, carrying a breakfast hangover before he started his shift in Engineering, previously as the ships Tactical Officer. His drinking never affected his work, another curse of his that despite the drink, his routine was solid and worked.

A quick shower and then hitting the gym early, before he began work every morning. Coffee and a few head clearing pills he picked up on leave from Risa when he visited meant that by the time he arrived for his workout his head was relatively clear again and the booze on his sweat was washed away by the shower. Today though, Nash paused and looked in the mirror. His tale of how he met his wife, as told to Lauren the previous night, had brought back a lot of memories for him.

Today was going to be hard, he knew it. He looked older, the Nash his wife knew was still there, the athletic body of a runner remained, albeit more solid around the shoulders now from working out in a more stationary setup. Now there were lines were there hadn’t been, lines his wife would never run her fingers over and comment on how dignified he looked, while snickering that he was getting old. He closed his eyes, maybe for minutes, he couldn’t tell.

His gym bag sat by the door to his quarters, always ready and he simply took hold of the handle as he walked out, leaving his door unlocked. He never locked it, if someone was stupid enough to disturb Nash without good reason or take anything, there was nowhere to hide on the Atlantis that he wouldn’t find them. He had time, a solid workout, another shower and coffee, maybe another few pills to help that head. Damn but he and Lauren had put through at least a couple of bottles of hard liquor between them while the tale was told.

Nash

This time of early morning, a while before shift change and while most of the ship slept meant that very few people frequented the gyms on the Atlantis. This one, was empty save for Rand. Part of the ships Intel team, he was always up early and always hit the gym before work. Work for him was usually going through intel reports, profiling, compiling dossiers on the ships Senior Staff and crew and double checking intel reports had solid information before being released to the brass. Hardly anything that kept him mobile like his days in Security on the Chimera or even as a Civilian, and Police Commissioner on the colony world of OEDV at that.

Today, Rand had a basketball and the small court to himself. The entire gym was his, at least until the doors slid open and the Ships designated dour walked in. Nash and Rand’s girlfriend Lauren had spent the evening chatting while Rand worked late, and saying Lauren had been drunk when Rand picked her up from Nash’s Office was an understatement that Rand still laughed at. By the looks of things, the hangover Lauren had complained about while Rand got ready for the gym was also affecting Nash judging by the squint of his eyes.

“Nash! Good morning,” he called out, bouncing the ball a few times and watching the man drop his gym bag on a bench and pull out a towel that he hung around his neck.

Glancing at Rand, Nash simply grunted and nodded. His greeting was unenthusiastic, his thoughts in another world and time. Not to mention they were fighting to get clear of the mire of hangover that he was carrying. Going back into his bag, he pulled out a pair of black sparring gloves and began to undo them.

“Back on the bags?” Rand looked at the hanging boxing bags where Nash almost always began his routine. “Give them a miss today and come and play a few rounds on the court, just you and me while we have it free.” Picking up the ball, Rand spun it on his finger for a few seconds before it fell off and he grinned.

“Nah, I’m good. I got my routine, it works.” Turning and walking towards the bags, Nash looked at Rand and shook his head, raising his gloves that were now on his hands and punching them together a few times. “I never liked Basketball anyway. Too bouncy.” Nash’s head began to throb just thinking about it.

“I’m Bajoran, remember?” Rand pointed to the wrinkles on his nose, “Basketball isn’t exactly our thing. Come on, you look like you need to work some of that Aviation Gin out of your system. What did Lauren call it? The Misdirect?”

“I’m Mintaran, remember?” Nash fired back, “We don’t play basketball on Mintara Prime, it never caught on. Terrible game, no point to it and no contact.” Sport on Mintara Prime tended to be contact sports, which stemmed from an age old tradition of having far more men than women thanks to an old plague. Men had to find ways to compete without resorting to killing each other, and contact sports became the norm, until the experiment with poly families took hold over a century ago. Now of course Mintara Prime had more or less equal populations of men and women, so the experiment was no longer needed and the Ministry of Harmony and it’s famous match making science was a solid part of Mintaran life.

“You’re Human enough,” Rand grinned. “That means you have an advantage, even if you are getting old and sober.” Stepping forward, Rand caught the bouncing ball in two hands and then tossed it towards Nash, at chest height.

Rand

“Old?” Nash echoed, stopped walking and made no move to catch the ball which hit him square in the chest, fell to the floor and bounced away. Both he and Rand watched in silence as it bounced smaller and small till it just rolled into the wall and stopped.

Looking back at Nash, Rand put his hands on his hips and sighed dramatically. “You’re supposed to catch that right? You know, you put your hands out and it lands in them? Come on buddy, you’re not too old to learn a new trick.”

“Old?” Nash said again. “Look kid,” oddly, Rand wasn’t that much younger than himself, but Nash tended to call everyone younger than himself who didn’t outrank him, ‘kid’. “I may be old but don’t go accusing me of being sober,” that comment was followed by a slight, hardly noticeable smirk. “Go play with your balls, I have a workout to do and this old body ain’t getting any younger listening to your chatter.”

“It cuts, the sarcasm cuts sharper than any knife, you wound me Sir.” Rand grinned, but there was something behind that grin that spoke of mischief. Nash completely missed it.

Turning away, Nash began to walk towards the punching bags, ignoring the ball that began to roll back past him slowly.

Nash

“Alright, I’ll just go play with myself, E-Dog.” Rand said the last word louder than he needed to in that empty, quiet space with just the two of them there. He also said it slower and clearly, so there could be no missing the word. Then he paused and watched what would happen.

“You think I can’t get my girlfriend to talk at bed time?” Rand smirked. “I’m a trained intel agent, bed talk is my specialty and really, she was no challenge after the amount of booze you gave her.”

“What, No.” He paused and then shook his head. “No, you wish. Afterwards, when we were lying there chatting about our night. Seems you told quite the story, E-Dog. Lauren couldn’t stop talking about it, she reckons you should make a book out of it, a Romance on a desert world soup kitchen, call it Dune or something.”

Rand