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
Posted by… suppressed (6) by the Post Ghost! 👻
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.

That brought Nash up short, and his head dropped and shook from side to side for a moment. “Ohhh, I did not see that coming.” Nash muttered to himself.

Turning around, he took a step towards Rand and pointed at him. “Stop that, now. That woman of yours is going to explain to me how you found out about that. She promised me she wasn’t going to tell anyone.” At that, Nash’s eyes squinted again. At least he thought she promised. That was about the time they had finished the vodka and cracked open the bottle of Aviation Gin that Nash stashed for special occasions, along with the mixers.

“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.”

“You were talking about me while you banged your wife?” Nash asked, a horrified look on his face. “Dude, some people use oysters or herbal drinks to perform better, but you talk about me?” Mintarans had some pretty intense bedroom ‘rituals’ themselves, but this was a kind of kink that Nash didn’t expect. Then, Nash grinned at looked at Rand with his own sarcasm shining. “Did Lauren enjoy it?”

“What? Nooo.” He paused and then shook his head vigorously. “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

“Okay, here’s a rule you’re going to want to stick to before the Atlantis begins having weird malfunctions like replicators only producing cold coffee and turbo lifts jamming whenever you go to step in one, or sonic showers working on a frequency that produces sunburn instead of a clean.” Nash’s voice went serious, “You are going to forget that name, you are never going to remember it again and you will tell nobody, nobody, about it. Do I make myself clear kid?”

His hangover was all but forgotten now, and in the silence that hung between them as Nash glared at Rand and Rand tried not to laugh at how serious he looked, the basketball finally rolled back between the two of them and came to rest and Rand’s feet, causing both of the men to look down at it.

Nash

Bending down, Rand picked up the ball and looked at it for a moment, then back to Nash and his eyes narrowed. In one fluid motion he threw the basketball back to Nash.

Catching it in both hands, Nash looked at the ball as if it had personally insulted him and then back to Rand. The look didn’t get any better.

“Make me,” Rand challenged the Engineer.

“Let me get this straight. You want me to play you, to get you to shut up about that name? You manipulative little…” Nash didn’t get to finish his sentence though as Rand cut him off.

“Tell you what, old boy,” Rand gleefully teased Nash as he now began to pace back and forth, between Nash and the hoop behind him on the court. “You beat me one on one at a game of basketball, first to ten, and I’ll forget everything I heard last night. Well, I’ll forget as much as I need to, so that if Lauren asks I won’t get in trouble for not paying attention to her afterwards.” He smirked quickly, then it turned back into the grin. “But I can promise you, Lieutenant Commander E-Dog, Sir, that never again shall that name pass my lips. Shall we play?”

“Stop saying that, Kid. I’m warning you.” Nash growled, his voice turning low into the tone that people recognized from him when he sat alone in the lounge nursing a drink, or someone told him to put out his cigar. However, the ball went under Nash’s arm and he began to undo the sparring gloves on his hands. These were tossed aside next to the court and a moment later, the towel around his neck joined them.

Rand bounced from side to side, foot to foot stretching his calves as he watched Nash get ready. “Good. Goood,” Rand said in a low voice, trying to match Nash’s gruff tone, “come to the Dark Side, feel the hate flow through you.”

Now Nash stood in gym trunks and a tank top, matching Rand, both in Starfleet issue kit. The difference was Rand sported a large tattoo of some kind of design on each shoulder, and Nash carried only faint scars that had never been fully healed by a dermal regenerator. “So, I beat you, and you shut your mouth, for good. Right?” Taking the ball out from under his arm, Nash bounced it a few times to test it.

“Cross my heart and may the Prophets curse me for all eternity if I’m lying,” he crossed both of his hands over his chest. “I give you my word as a Gentleman and an Officer, E-Dog Sir.”

Rand

“Deal,” Nash said, and exploded into movement, straight towards Rand who stood only feet away.

“What, wait!” Rand almost yelped in surprise as Nash suddenly burst into motion straight towards him like only a sprinter could do. Once moment, Nash was standing there bouncing a ball and by the time he had opened his eyes from a blink, Nash was charging right at him. Rand was unprepared and out of stance, he even still hand his arms crossed over his chest as Nash charged at him. He had no time to move, his reactions were stunned by pure surprise.

Nash’s shoulder impacted Rand’s with a solid thump that echoed throughout the gymnasium, and being completely off balance Nash was past him in an instant, ball bouncing on the opposite side to where the Bajoran had stood. A few steps and Nash jumped, the ball slamming through the hoop, lighting up the backboard behind it.

The impact caused Rand to simply be bowled over, the impact spinning him around like he was a turnstile and knocking him to the ground on his back. By the time he came to rest, Nash was mid-air and scoring the first point of the match. “Aw plow me,” Rand muttered, letting his head drop back to the floor.

“That’s one for me, Kid.” Nash grinned, then held out his hand to the downed Bajoran. Nash wasn’t breathing hard, or showing any sign of exertion. “I told you, don’t call me E-Dog, you aren’t anywhere near tough enough to call me that.”

Nash

“No, you fouled,” Rand countered, taking Nash’s hand and letting him pull him to his feet. “Basketball is no contact, you can’t just go slam into someone Nash.” Rubbing the point on his shoulder where the two of them had collided, Rand looked at Nash accusingly.

“Oh you are wrong on that kid,” Nash explained, “Schoolyard rules, I may be Mintaran but I’m still Human enough, and I’m sure you Bajoran kids have something similar where you come from.” Now Nash laughed and spun the ball on his finger like Rand had done earlier, only for Nash, it spun for far longer before Nash himself let it drop into his hand.

“You made the challenge, and as the one being challenged, I choose the rules. School yard rules kid, a take on old duels where a challenger makes the challenge and chooses the place, and the one accepting the challenge chooses the weapon. You chose basketball, I choose Klingon Rules. Full contact, no snowflakes. Wanna give up now, kid?”

“Fine then, my ball,” Rand took the basketball and walked backwards to the line. “You play dirty old man, I told you, I’m an Officer and a Gentleman. That was just low.” Despite his moaning, Rand was grinning as he began to bounce the ball. “You told me you never played basketball! Where the hell did that come from?”

“You are an Intel Officer,” Nash countered, “that completely rules you out of being a Gentleman, I should know, I was your boss once, remember?” Smiling tightly, he twisted his head from side to side, letting the muscles ease a little in his neck as he did so. “I also didn’t say that I never played basketball, I said I never liked it. Sharpen up.”

“Lets play, E-Dog,” Rand teased and then began to charge forward, looking for a way past. His footwork was quick, and the Bajoran clearly had good balance and accuracy to boot. Approaching Nash, he feinted one direction then suddenly changed to go the other, then moved backwards a few steps, still bouncing the ball and switching hands as needed. “Can you move, old boy? You caught me by surprise before, lets see how the Nash moves.” Switching hands again, Rand lunged forwards looking for a way past him.

Rand

This time Nash gave ground and watched the ball. When Rand moved forward, Nash shadowed him. When he moved left or right, Nash moved with him. When Rand tried to feint a throw at the hoop Nash watched the mans feet, not the ball, and didn’t give the Bajoran space to move. The whole time the two men tried to push each other off balance, out of the way, and both knocked each others hands aside with closed fists.

“Getting tired?” Rand teased as Nash’s footwork didn’t match the speed of the younger man. “I thought you were in your prime, bulletproof?” He moved the ball away from Nash and turned his body to block him. When he saw the Engineer seem to lag behind, Rand darted forwards but each time, Nash was able to block him in.

“Not quite,” Nash offered as Rand again darted forward and nearly got passed him.

“You’re slowing down, old man.” Rand teased again and this time moved the ball rapidly left and right, trying to confuse Nash as to which way he was going to run.

“Okay, my turn now, enough dancing,” Nash’s eyes met Rand’s and in that moment, Nash stopped moving in time with the man’s footwork and he simply lunged at Rand, his fist grabbed the Bajoran by the tank under the neck, and Nash twisted his body left. His right leg stamped down in front of Rand’s and as the again off balance Bajoran tilted, Nash’s other hand grabbed the ball and he bodily threw Rand in a judo style toss onto the court.

Rand had enough training in being on the receiving end of these throws to know instinctively to turn the throw into a roll, but he still landed half sitting up from the unexpected move and looked back in time to see Nash raise the ball over his head.

Twisting on the spot, far more agilely than Rand had seen him moving before, Nash raised the ball over his head and calmly slotted another hoop. The backboard lit up as Nash turned to the downed man and held out his hand again. “Two.”

Nash

Rand laughed, and accepted the hand that Nash held out. “Klingon Rules, right.” Standing up, he accepted the ball that Nash tossed back to him. “So do you get stronger on the booze like Popeye does with spinach or is this all just a drunken master style display? Cause by the amount of booze that Lauren said you drank last night, you shouldn’t even be standing today.”

Rand