One plus one (does not) equal two
Posted on Sun Apr 28th, 2024 @ 3:55pm by Senior Chief Petty Officer Mason Malone & Lieutenant Didrea Zade
Mission:
The Trojan Horse
Location: Gym
Timeline: Before "Express Elevator to Hell"
1936 words - 3.9 OF Standard Post Measure
Mason stared at the bench press, indecisive on whether to use it. He knew only too well one really shouldn't use it when alone and at this hour, the gym seemed to be deserted. He circled around it, checking the weights. Sure they weren't too heavy, but what if something happened? It'd be hours before anyone would either notice he didn't report in, or before he'd be found.
Still... He needed to start somewhere to rebuild his muscles after his inury. Doctor's orders, wasn't it? He turned at the sound of footsteps, eyes falling on a young male he hadn't seen before. "You must be one of our marine visitors?" He queried.
After the... intense training with Ray and Xall, Matthew was seeking a change of pace. He took a few hours to try and sleep off the alcohol, then followed it up with a run to try and sweat it out. It helped somewhat, but the pressure of an impending hangover loomed at the back of his head. So with help from the ship's computer, he had made his way to the gym. He was expecting the place to be empty, but the voice addressing him indicated otherwise. Turning toward the voice, Matthew spotted the lean-looking figure. "Sure am. Lance Corporal Letchers. Or," he gave a shrug, "off-hours, I'm fine with just Matthew."
"Senior Chief Mason Malone," Mason answered, studying the young man before him. "Mason will do though. Have you been a marine long? You must be about my age, at least you look it.. were you looking to use anything specific? If not, maybe you can help me with the bench press?"
With a nod, Matthew looked over to the press, calculating the weight on it. "I've been out of training for about a year and a half, but on this team for a few months. I didn't have anything in mind, but I'm happy to spot."
"Ah, you're one of the rookies then," Mason grinned as he exchanged the weights for something a little lighter. While generally he had no issue with it, he really didn't want to overdo it and get sent back off duty. "I was seventeen on my first assignment. Been a while since I was a corporal. My final rank before going yellow was sergeant." His expression showed a hint of sadness. "Sometimes I still do miss my greens," he admitted as he settled himself on the bench, glancing up at the marine. "I'm ready," he said, fingers folding around the bar. He gritted his teeth as he lifted the bar off the rests, feeling the strain in his still healing muscles.
Standing on the other side, Matthew positioned his hands so he could snatch the bar at the first sign of failure, and followed the movement of the bar. "What made you switch, if you don't mind my asking? Everyone I know loves being a marine and would fight a reassignment."
"Divorce," Mason answered simply after taking a few seconds to steady the bar as the question had caught him off guard. "I loved my job, and I was learning quite a few new things, but there were just too many memories. There was an opening here, but Athena doesn't carry marines, so I switched to security. I'm enjoying what I do but I still miss my greens." He allowed the bar to lower to his chest at a controlled speed, then pushed it back up a fraction faster, repeating it a few times. "What made you sign up?"
"Didn't have much else to go to," Matthew answered, still following the bar. The number of reps told him that Mason would soon approach his limit, so he kept his hands close to the bar, ready to grab it at the first sign of failure. "I did always want to be a marine like my mother, but it was always difficult to get opportunities to line up for other work. Something would always fall through, like someone getting sick, or getting some bones broken, or 'we found someone more qualified,' which often sounded more like an excuse."
"Well, it seems to me that your persistence paid off," Mason breathed as he pushed the bar up and tried to get it back up to its support. "I'll admit I miss being a marine at times. Security just doesn't have the discipline that being in the corps has. It's... different. But I made my choice, and this allows me to see my daughter from time to time. My ex didn't like me being a marine." Leaving the corps hadn't been a condition, but it had made a few things easier.
Seeing a bit of a struggle, Matthew lightly grabbed the bar and helped pull it up onto the rack. "They weren't kidding when they said it's all about sacrifice. I never really considered that leaving would count. You mind if I work in?"
"I loved my job as a marine," Mason said as he vacated the bench and switched places with Matthew. He shook out his arms before taking up position. "But I love my daughter more and my ex would keep her away, he's odd like that. He wouldn't to spite me, he just really hated my job and the danger that came with it." He nodded towards the bar "ready?"
It didn't take long for Matthew to slide into place beneath the bar. It wasn't a lot of weight, but it wasn't a problem. He didn't want to go on this mission with sore muscles. Gripping the bar with both hands, he gave Mason a nod before lifting if off the supports and over his chest. "It sure sounds like spite, or at least some form of ultimatum," he said, starting his set.
"Ultimatum, perhaps," Mason agreed, keeping his eyes on the bar and his hands ready to catch. "Spite no. At least he lets her travel to Earth to be with her aunts. I mean, she does need female influence growing up, right? And women to turn to in case of ah.... female stuff? Things we, her fathers, can't help with. Do you have a significant other?"
Matthew did a couple more reps before setting the bar back on the holder. "I have a girlfriend on Earth, but that's it. I've heard of some fathers managing it, raising a daughter, but I don't know if I could. And it's another level of difficult with you being out here."
"I think I'm managing well enough, being divorced. I know someone on the medical team who is a single dad, and his kid isn't with him either. At least mine has another parent, his kid doesn't." He looked down at Matthew. "So... nervous about upcoming mission? I envy you, I don't get to go."
Sitting up, Matthew stretched his arms for a moment before giving up the bench for Mason to do another set. "Not really. It sounds like a pretty simple extraction. If anything, I feel like I have to prove my worth to the team as the newest member."
"Yeap, that's nothing new being the junior," Mason smiled as he took place on the bench again after increasing the weights a fraction. "Been there, done that. Don't worry though, you're not expected to go out of your league to prove yourself. Just do the best you can, that's all anyone can ever expect you to do."
A snort came from Matthew. "You've never been on this team, then. This is one of the best units in the Corps. Crazy high competition to even be considered, let alone selected. If I was selected, I have to make sure they don't regret their decision." Watching the weights move, Matthew hovered his hands just beneath the bar, ready to catch if necessary, as Mason passed 6 reps. "Four more, push."
Mason huffed as he pushed the bar up four more times, his arms trembling as he finally pushed it up into the rests. "That was too much, " he concluded as he shook his arms out, rubbing his biceps and shoulders. "I'm going to have to call it before my shoulder starts to act up again." Despite surgery, the doctor had insisted he be careful nonetheless. "Your turn. We can switch weights if you think I added too much, no shame in it."
Matthew shook his head with a hint of an amused smile. The weights were perfectly fine for him, but Mason was obviously recovering from something. "These are good." Seeing a couple others in the gym with them, he added, "I can get someone else to spot me if you want to rest that shoulder. If this weight was too much, then you probably don't want to spot it."
"From a standing position is different than lying down," Mason countered, not wanting to appear weak in front of a marine. "I can do it, especially if you are sure they're good for you then there should not be a problem should there?" He was sure that he could do it, as he was equally sure that lifting used different muscle compared to pushing.
From his spot underneath the bar, Matthew raised an eyebrow up at Mason. There was certainly marine stubbornness still there. "If you insist, but the weights are fine, Mason. I'm going light so I won't be stiff when we infiltrate." Wrapping his fingers around the bar, he adjusted his position slightly before bracing to remove the bar from the stand.
Mason held his hands ready to grab the bar, eyes fixed on the other man's face, searching for signs or clues of fatigue. "If you call this light," he huffed, "and normally it isn't too much for me, but I'm still building up after serious injury." He was still amazed he had survived that to begin with. "Got into a fight with a few invaders, and I had only my blade. Unfortunately, so did they."
"If you got away with just a shoulder injury, I'd call that a win," Matthew grunted. Pausing when his arms were fully extended, he smirked up at Mason, a sign of marine-style banter forthcoming. "This is your rehab weight, of course it's light for me."
"Hmm it was a bit worse than that," Mason said thoughtfully, keeping his attention on the bar though seeing the smirk from the corner of his eyes. "But yes rehab weight. Don't worry, I'll match you soon enough and we can wager on who can lift the most." He smirked back. "And you don't want to exhaust yourself so this is hold back weight for you."
Matthew chuckled. "You're not a complete lost cause, I see. You held onto that humor. I'll hold you to that wager," he said with a grin, before resuming his set. He did a few more reps before putting the bar back on the rack. Sitting up, he rolled his shoulders and gave his arms a gentle stretch before standing. "I should get back to the team. We're going to be finalizing the assault before we head out in the morning. Also gotta sleep off a bit of a hangover." He gave Mason a bump in the arm with his fist, making sure it was the man's good arm. Leaning in slightly, he added with humor in his tone, "Don't place bets with superiors, Mason. They know how to make you regret it."
Mason snorted. "You wish rookie...my last rank was sergeant. And don't worry...I won't make you regret it. You just come back to uphold the bet huh...go, get your rest. I'll do the same."