In the Gym

Posted on 14 Jun 2019 @ 7:11pm by Captain Jonathan Reynolds & Lieutenant Commander Aidan Datari

Mission: Shakedown
Location: Gym
Timeline: 0600
1752 words - 3.5 OF Standard Post Measure

ON:

There was something about taking one's frustrations out on a punching bag. Jon had found it a useful outlet for years. And it kept his arms toned. He had just finished and was unwinding his gloves when his new science chief walked in evidently with swords.

Having expected the gym to be empty at this early hour, Aidan stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed the captain unwind his gloves. The gay man in him could appreciate the man's tone and sweaty form, but the married man in him frowned the very thought away.

"Morning sir," he greeted as he stepped onto the mat, a sword in each hand. The steel glinted in the light as he moved slowly to warm up.

Jon sensed a wave of attraction toward him from the man and was suddenly very confused. Hadn't he said he had a wife? It was gone as quickly as it rose, replaced by a measure of guilt. Jon nodded at him. "Lieutenant. What have you got there?" he asked.

"Ancient swords," Aidan replied, stopping mid slow-motion swing. "Special ones, they were a gift from someone who was very dear to me and I've been training with them ever since." He held out one of them, the singular gem on either hilt catching the light. "The green one is permanently disabled, the red one emits a disabling poison when I need it to. No-one else but me could activate them, they're DNA coded."

"Where are they from?" Jon asked curious. "Ancient Trill?"

"No they're from a Mayan race, which is extinct. My then boyfriend, who gave them to me when we were dating, said they're the last of their kind, and quite invaluable. To me, their personal value far outweighs the monetary value."

"When you say Mayan?" Jon asked, "You mean the Mayans on earth? Did they have technology to that level? Or a race descended from them elsewhere?" Jon was starting to get more into history since reading the book of Greek myths Liam had sent him as a gift. His picture of Mayan in his head was pyramids and spears perhaps. He never considered swords.

"No I don't think he meant the Earth Mayas, I believe he meant an entirely different race. He never really told me about them but he did know them well." Aidan smiled sadly. "He was over four hundred years old when I met him, you see. If you don't mind I'd rather not elaborate, I'd rather keep the happy memories of him." He held out his hand, wanting his weapon back. "I train with them to keep fit, and to keep my reflexes up. I've been training with Andorian weapons since I was five years old, my foster father is Andorian, you see. Though I'm sure you know this if you read my personnel file."

"Not at all. I didn't mean to pry, merely interested. History is suddenly becoming something I have more of an interest in at present," Jon informed him. "I box," he indicated the punching back. "And when I get the chase go rock climbing. But I prefer being on an actual planet for that. Simulated nature is just not the same challenge."

"Ahh I'll never go climbing I'm afraid... I don't like heights, they make me feel very giddy." He leaned in a little to glance past the man. "Box? I don't think I've ever done that before, is it difficult?"

"Well there's form, rules and strength involved," Jon said, "But you can pick it up pretty easily. Can you land a decent punch? That would be your starting point if your interested. Your welcome to go a round or two with the punch bag."

"I'm sure I have strength," Aidan chuckled, hefting his swords, "wielding two of these in tandem isn't as easy as it looks. As for punching...no I don't think I can." He put his swords aside, safely out of reach on a bench then walked up to the punch bag. "How does this work without damaging my hands?"

"Well we would need to wrap your hands up properly first before putting some proper gloves on you," Jon commented. "Give me a moment," he went to the replicator and ordered some fresh wraps. He doubted the Trill would want to use his current sweaty ones. Walking back he held them up, "You can box without these but the chances of injuring your wrists skyrockets."

"Hold your arm out,"

The Trill did as he was told and held his arm out.

"Now stretch your fingers out as far as you can and keep your wrist straight," Jon told him. He showed the Trill how to properly wrap his hands and then handed him his gloves to put on.

The wrapping felt odd, the gloves even odder. "Do you always wear these? What if you get in an actual fight without them?" He could handle the extra weight with ease as his swords each weighed more.

"I do to train and if I enter an official match," Jon stated. "These have family significance. They were my grand fathers, my fathers after him. Still going strong those gloves. If you get into an actual fight without gloves, barenuckled as we call my advice is avoid it unless you have put some time in strengthening your knuckles in training.

Don't go in too hard and get a good angle or you run the risk of tearing up your knuckles and breaking or spraining your wrist. I'd also say dance, dance hard and avoid being hit. Analyse your opponent while your ducking his or her jabs and aim to land one with the maximum damage to them and the least to you. If you know of a vulnerable spot of course try hit that," Jon told him.

"I meant in actual combat sir," the Trill clarified, then chuckled. "I consider sword play a deadly dance, and I practice dancing on ice. Perhaps we should spar instead of punching a bag?"

"No," Jon said simply. "Learn to walk before you run Lieutenant. I don't want Dr Hope yelling at me because you have injured your wrists without building up strength in them first and technique. That means the punching bag. I would not attempt to dance on ice without first understanding the basics of ice skating," he commented. "Nor spar with yourself with no understanding of how to weld a sword properly."

"I'm pretty sure my wrists are strong enough from wielding two swords and having used them in combat," Aidan explained, "as I'm sure yours would be strong enough to wield a sword. But..." He sighed. "Punching a bag it is. Show me how."

"I can't you have my gloves," Jon said. "But I'll talk you through it. Stand close enough to the bag so you can hit it if you rotate your hips behind the punch, but far enough away that you can't reach without rotating your hips. Which arm do you intend to hit it with?"

Aidan lifted his left hand, as he was predominantly left-handed, even if he was trained to use both in combat.

"Right well push into the ground with the big toe of the foot on the same side then let the force from your toe rise up through your leg before you turn your hips and shoulders.

Again, the Trill did as he was told, though it took a few attempts before it really felt right.

"Use your torso to direct the punch, rather than reaching out with your fist," Jon told him. "Strike the bag but aim to hit it with your larger knuckles first. If the bag pops then you got it right. Swinging, you still need to work on your form."

"Pops?" Aidan paused mid swing/punch. "If I have your gloves, wouldn't it be better if I replicated my own for this exercise?"

"I wouldn't bother replicating gloves unless the boxing does you any good if i'm honest," Jon said. "But it's your call."

"Well that's the beauty isn't it? I could always recycle them? The same would be if you were to replicate a sword of any fashion, you could recycle it. The weapons I own aren't replicated and I daresay neither are these gloves?" He finished his punch but he'd lost his momentum. He felt the jolt travel up his arm and he grimaced.

"No those are genuine boxing gloves. Handmade I am led to believe by my grandfather. They have had a few patches but I wouldn't part with them for anything," He told him. "How did that feel?"

"That didn't feel right, it wasn't supposed to jolt all the way up my arm was it?" He shook his arm as if to loosen it after the punch. "Probably didn't look right either, that bag barely moved did it."

"No its not. You looked to lift your hips a little when you went in for it and forced your punch up. Your aiming to drop your weight into it. Most beginners have it. Its called lifted balance," Jon told him. "Have another go," he encouraged. Try to relax your hips this time."

"Well with sword fighting I have to throw my weight or the swing doesn't land." He shifted and tried to punch the bag again, following the instructions to the letter. There was less of a jolt into his arm but he still felt it. "How was that?"

"Better," Jon said. "You keep working on that and next time if your interested I'll show you a combo. Just a warning you are likely to be sore. I know you do your swords but its using different muscles."

Aidan nodded. "I don't mind being sore, it only tells me that I've challenged my body to do something." He pulled off the gloves. "I should get back to my own routine for now, but I'm definitely interested in learning more." Reverently, he handed the gloves back to the captain. "Thank you."

"Well," Jon said taking his gloves back, "I'm usually in here about 3 times a week." He slung his gloves over his shoulder and headed to the door. "I'm sure I'll see you in here again."

Aidan nodded. "Quite likely sir," he answered as he picked up his swords to resume his deadly dance.

OFF:

●● Lieutenant Aidan Datari
Chief Science Officer
USS Andromeda

●●● Commander Jonathan Reynolds
Commanding Officer
USS Andromeda