Friendly Competition

Posted on 14 Apr 2021 @ 2:54pm by Lieutenant Leland Hawksley & Captain Patrick Jackson
Edited on on 24 Apr 2021 @ 2:27pm

1,531 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: General Sim Postings
Location: Deck 14, Gym
Timeline: Current

[ON]

- Deck 03, Lt. Jg. Hawksley's Quarters -

The time was late in the evening. It was around 2300 hours and Leland was having a hard time trying to get some sleep. Looking at his watch, he jumped out of bed, and put on a tee-shirt and cargo shorts. He decided to go down to the Gym and put in some weight reps, cardio to tire himself.

Rubbing his eyes, he had placed on his personal playlist of inspirational music. Some latest hard rock, and rap. Listening to it, he had rubbed the head of Hercules, his Golden Retriever, an AI. Recently installed by Chief Dodd, he was happy to see that his Dog was just as he always was, relaxed and chill.

- Deck 16, Gym -

Having arrived in the gymnasium, Leland took a general scan of the room. At this time of night, there weren't too many officers using the facilities.

"They're all getting a good night's sleep in... That's why." Leland muttered to himself.

He noticed one male on the weights over in the centre of the gym. Strolling around the room, Leland was flexing his biceps, forearms, and calves. He did good cardio on the treadmills working up a good sweat and then deciding to step off.

o0 Damn it. He's still using the weight machine 0o Typical. The one machine that Leland had developed a good bonding too, was in use. He didn't like the other ones, because he was OCD about sharing at times, especially gym equipment.

Leland then took a saunter close and then sat down on the bench beside the officer who was into his weight reps. Leland didn't want to bother him, but damn... o0 Aren't you done for the night? 0o He thought of the other dude.

With his isochronic earbud playing music in one ear, he could still hold a conversation.

"How goes the lifting?" Hawksley had turned his head, trying not to show some annoyance to the male right beside him on the weight machine. The one he was waiting to use.

The man on the machine grunted a response but did not intend for there to be a word with it. He was in the middle of a set and was not going to break his rhythm for words. He was working out some stress anyway and needed his good form. The Marine CO was slowly getting his mind and body ready for the away mission and knew this would not be a pretty one.

Finishing the set, the weights went down in a controlled *clang* Taking some deep breaths he looked up at the new arrival. "It's going." He said standing up and grabbing his towel for a wipe off. "How's yours?" He asked being polite as he wiped down the seat and then moved to the next station on the weight machine, which was 90 degrees to the left of where he just was.

Leland saw that the machine was now ready for use. He paused a moment, not sure that the other man's sweat had been dry right yet for use. "It goes good."

Trying not to make it obvious, as the man had gone to his next machine in the circuit. Hawksley had grumbled deep down as he eyed the bench and the weight handles. o0 Ok. There doesn't seem to be too much to worry about. What was it? The Harrington Counsellor said…. 'It's all in your head.' It's the OCD Hawk 0o

Taking a seat, Leland set his pace for muscular strength, working on six sets of less than six reps at 80 to 90 per cent of his max. Listening to his music in Leland's psychological approach in the gym and having 100 per cent of his mental energy dedicated, he completed his first half of rounds after a while.

Pausing a moment, allowing his muscles to increase their blood oxygen flow, he turned to see the other male. "What do you do on the Tomcat?" He wondered if he was an Alpha shift, up late like him?

Patrick finished another few reps on his machine circuit. He stopped when he felt his triceps begin to burn. "I'm the Marine CO," he said stretching his arms out before his next set. "How about yourself?"

Leland took a drink of his red Gatorade and then extended down his lats on the weights, and expressing his breath, his chest rising through his exhale... "Lieutenant. Chief Helm Officer..." He began the break-in of his second set.

"Tell me..." He was levying downward, before his mid-chest, extending his biceps back upwards, the pain controlled through his breathing and relation of his own head game... "Just what do you do down there 1st Lieutenant?" He regarded the Marine Deck on the Tomcat.

The marine smirked and walked to the next station. "I manage over 400 combat-ready marines that are confined to a ship until there is a situation that requires our special services. I make sure they are still in peak condition onboard and also that they don't cause trouble. Then of course there is planning any operations, training, and anything else that needs to be done." He said and began his next set.

"That many Marines, hunh?" Leland had remembered there was a contingent somewhere down the decks on the Tomcat. He wouldn't care to be relegated to barracks and board rooms with endless training scenarios until brought out of storage.

"I bet things are nice and shiny down there?" He had always remembered how his marine buddies in Starfleet had to clean and scrub the floors well. Character building it was called.

"Not for me. I like to be at the forefront, mostly." Hawksley had taken a seat at the leg press as he relaxed back and checked his silver wristwatch... Beginning his set, watching his mid-chest and own lats flexing with each push upward, the black weights smoothly gliding upward their elongated abutments.

Patrick chuckled. "If you want forefront, I can get you a spot in a combat line on our next encounter. Can't get any farther forward when you're the one making that line." He said going back to his last station and stretching out his arms. "That's where the fun begins."

While Hawksley had enjoyed being a flyboy for the Tomcat, the thought had intrigued him. He paused and continued his leg press, holding and then extending, and then slowly letting it go downward.

"It would be an honour, Sir." Leland expressed. "If you think the Colonel would allow it?" He was happy to be involved with the Mission flying the shuttles, but he always felt a keen interest deep down for the Marines. He certainly was built like one he had felt.

"I'll run it by the Colonel and see if she can part with you for a few hours. We scheduled a live-fire planetary invasion exercise after this mission is clear while the Tomcat finishes doing the system survey." He paused a moment. "Are you up to date with your phaser training and combat practice?"

“Define up to date, Soldier?” He cheekily questioned Jackson. Leland continued onward his leg press, enjoying the burning sensation working away presently in his muscled calves.

“I’ve requested an update on my tactical training, as it’s been a while. Winchester said he was still waiting for his sign-off from the Colonel regarding his certification to be able to assist me in mine.” Hawksley shrugged.

“As for combat, informal yes. In training sessions myself on Holodeck. I’ve been stationed on a listening outpost and learned a few programs that the Units have used. I use monthly a Combat Exercise routine, but not the actual fighting. But I can fight, and push my weight around, Sir.”

Leland then stopped his leg press. And riffed off his Marine Fitness Testing Program he had compiled, “Pull-Ups. Push-Ups. Sandbag Deadlift. Crunches. Wall obstacle courses and, of course, cardio runs cumulative of 165 miles. Averaging about a month in all.” He had hoped this was something close to Jackson’s training.

"Not bad." He said stretching out a small bunch of muscles in his back. "We will need to get you some combat training in. I'll have to check on arrangements after we complete this away mission. It is a bit of a time consumer as I'm sure you're aware."

"Hey," Leland piqued up with a smile on his face. "If I can keep up with a Marine in combat, then I'd be feeling good. I am more than happy to be more than I can be." He paused for a moment, as he then had wiped at his face with a fresh towel that was sitting alongside his bag.

"Good to meet you..." Hawksley had walked up to the Marine C.O., when the man had completed his interval for the moment. "Leland Hawksley." He extended his hand in a friendly gesture.

Patrick took his hand and shook it. "Patrick Jackson. You too." He said and looked up at the clock. "It appears it is about time I get ready for deployment. See you on the line sometimes."

[OFF]

1st Lieutenant Patrick Jackson
Marine CO


Lt. Jg. Leland Hawksley
Chief Helm Officer

 

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