Pick Ups and Chin Ups - Part 1

Posted on Fri Nov 7th, 2025 @ 4:26pm by Lieutenant Commander Mattys Plaatjes & Major T'Ria

2,974 words; about a 15 minute read

Mission: Trillius Prime
Location: USS Meridian Gym
Timeline: Current

::ON::

Clutching a take-away cup of iced coffee in one hand, and two bottles of water in the other, Plaatjes made his way down the Deck, checking off the Senior Officers' quarters as he went. He had been here before, of course, on his first duty shift aboard the Meridian when he had assisted Major T'Ria with her living situation. Having ran into her a few times since then, most recently the day before, he had found himself intrigued by the Vulcan.

Though Starfleet was a melting pot, with humans from across Earth's colonies strongly represented, it was vanishingly rare still for Vulcans to serve aboard Starfleet vessels. Plaatjes had only come across one other so far in his duties with Starfleet, and he was eager to get to know the no-nonsense Chief Medical Officer better. He knew, of course, that this was an extension of his medical, but it was still a chance at socialising.

It was still early, so he moved quietly, his gym shoes squeaking slightly against the utilitarian deck. He was decked out in his typical gym wear, dark shorts high across the thigh, and a battered, faded Seawolves t-shirt. Reaching his first destination, he chimed the door and waited for an answer.

T'Ria's door chime sounded--he was punctual this time--and she stood and picked up the oversized garment called a 'sweatshirt,' and pulled it over her head, covering the practical sports bra mid-thigh against the dark compression leggings. Her feet were already encased in a pair of black foot coverings that resembled ballet slippers but allowed for optimum stability and grip on a number of substrates. The sweatshirt would keep off the chill until a suitable warm-up period had passed. Just because she did not allow herself to express discomfort due to the controls learned as a child did not mean she anticipated enduring the sensation.

"Greetings, Commander Plaatjes. Your punctuality is...agreeable." T'Ria said by way of greetings.

He grinned, 'I'm glad that you approve of my timekeeping this time, eh.' Mentally chiding himself at his overly-eager search for approval he affected casualness. 'The ship is quiet at this time, so there were fewer people to chat with on the way. Plaatjes stepped away from the door to allow T'Ria to step out. 'I hope your quarters have been alright since the adjustments?'

T'Ria's brow flicked upwards at how Plaatjes jumped from one thing to another; human communication styles were...perplexing. However, as he ended in a question - this was something she could work with.

"The climate in my quarters has been satisfactory since the repairs. Now, all that is required is to convince you to increase the ambient temperature throughout the rest of the ship and it would be...perfect?" The ending of her statement lilted into an unsure question. She really was trying to engage in 'banter,' but this was quite uncharted waters for her.

Plaatjes chuckled, 'if only we could - I think the side effects of that would be offensive to more delicate olfactory systems than humans.' As they rounded to the turbolift, Plaatjes dropped back a step and allowed T'Ria to head through the door first. 'I am glad that your quarters are satisfactory though.'

"Ah. I had not considered the olfactory ramifications." She looked thoughtful for a moment. Vulcans had quite overtly informed humanity that their natural pheromones were...quite odoriferous. They automatically took that to mean it was offensive...which some where...however, T'Ria had noted--in-between her nasal numbing doses--that not all humans smelled...awful. Some had smelled...delicious? her mind offered most unhelpfully. Her mouth pulled slightly in an outward display of her consternation. That was not going to be something that she shared with the chief engineer.

How could her mind even contemplate such things given recent events? Her hand unconsciously covered the right side of her lower chest, as if covering her heart would prevent the discomfort from making itself known. Her own organization was still vehemently denying that anything had occurred to Ivek--her mate--but the sundered bond did not lie. There were only two reasons for this...he was dead...or the bond had been severed. And as the thoughts she struggled to keep at bay fully invaded her thoughts, T'Ria could feel her internal 'mood' drop. This was not the time nor the place to consider such things. With a skill that spoke of having to do this more than once, she quickly shoved her current line of thought into a mental box and slammed the lid on tight.

"Is there a specific form of physical activity that you were wanting to engage in, commander?"

Doing a slight double-take, Plaatjes almost blushed, some thoughts crossing his mind before he recovered. 'Well ... I think we were going to look at my shoulder, right? I suppose we could start there before moving to a more whole-body workout, if that's amenable to you?' Looking at the Vulcan he said, 'I'm not sure what your training program is like, but mine is weights-heavy with some HIIT and low-intensity steady-state cardio on alternate days.'

"That is quite a well-rounded exercise regimen...and further evaluation of your shoulder was already accounted for in my mind." T'Ria had never engaged in physical activity with a human - it would be a fascinating activity. "Is your shoulder feeling any better after the treatment in sickbay yesterday?"

'It feels looser, that's for sure,' Plaatjes replied, moving his arm and shoulder about as best as he could in the cramped confines of the turbolift. He looked to T'Ria, and flashed a smile, 'so, how about your routine? What do you go about when you engage in physical activity?'

Her eyes trained on his physical form, assessing his movements, even with the limitations of the small turbolift. He appeared to be moving his shoulder a little more fluidly today; that was preferable. "I trained in Suus Mahna and Tal-shaya which was challenging, both physically and mentally - but have not engaged in that since joining the IME. They are rather specific martial arts styles and I have yet to come across any off-worlder who trained in them. I find running to be an acceptable form of cardio, and use supplemental weight packs to perform calisthenics, given the gravitational disparities."

'That sounds ... impressive,' Plaatjes replied, wondering how heavy the weight packs were. 'You'll have to forgive me,' Plaatjes continued as the turbolift slowed, came to a stop and the doors opened, 'I'm not familiar with the martial arts you've described. I suspect, more elegant and controlled than my previous form of cardio, rugby.'

"Ah - Rug-bee. I have seen this 'sport.' It does appear to be one that requires significant stamina and strength." She answered as they exited the turbolift on the desired deck.

'Depending on what position you play,' Plaatjes replied as they both made a beeline for the Meridian's compact but well-appointed gym. 'Numbers one to eight are the toughest on the body. Nine to fourteen are mostly there for speed and to look pretty,' he chuckled, knowing full well he was biased as an openside flanker. 'It's a good game. Breeds a lot of camaraderie.'

She tilted her head in consideration. Vulcans generally did not find such a thing to be necessary...camaraderie...but humans, she had observed, required such connections and feelings of belonging to function optimally. It wasn't illogical at all in her mind. There was a measure of...comfort in knowing one's place in and amongst a 'community.'

"I will have to research this game further. I am not well-versed in this aspect of your culture."

'Feel free to pick up a few recordings - I have games sent to me as part of my transmission packet from home. The most recent are from last calendar year, but they'll be a good intro.' He paused, his stride down the corridor slowing as he thought, 'but you might need someone to explain the rules. Only because they've gotten a bit complicated over the last decade or so.'

His offer was quite...thoughtful. "Are you volunteering your expertise?" She quickly countered.

'If that's acceptable,' Plaatjes replied as they rounded the corner and the gym door opened at his palming of the control. 'It takes some explaining some time, so perhaps it's better to watch a game over the course of several sessions, rather than in one go. Might go long and eat into your time otherwise.'

Eat into her time? What did that mean exactly? Her brows furred slightly giving her a somewhat confused mien. Regardless - the rest of his reply was decipherable. For now, she'd continue with that. "If you think that breaking the game up into smaller pieces to best explain the rules then I have no reason to dissent. Other than my required duties...time is something I have an inordinate amount of." She stepped into the gym and noted that it was currently unoccupied.

'Really?' Plaatjes was disbelieving. 'I thought Vulcans filled their days from sun-up til sundown.' He shrugged as he looked around the gym, noticing the same as T'Ria - the area was quiet. 'I'm sure, if you're willing, the crew of the Meridian will fill that time up for you.' He pointed to the rowing machine. 'I'm going to warm up on that.'

"Very well." She responded in a neutral tone. Looking about the gym, T'Ria considered momentarily then walked over to the treadmill and began her 'warm up' sequence. "It is logical to be productive, however, I do not schedule activities to 'fill' my day. This is a new environment for me - beyond my duties--and meditations--I am...uncertain what to do." It did not feel acceptable to verbalize her uncertainty, but...it was logical to be honest.

'Because of the unfamiliar surroundings?' Plaatjes asked as he set the rowing machine to his liking, and began a quick two-thousand meter war-up. 'I'd imagine if you were ... serving aboard a Vulcan ... ship, you'd know exactly what you'd want to do in your downtime.' Talking and pushing for a sub-five-minute two thousand meters was a bit of a push, but he appreciated T'Ria's company so would make the most of it.'

"Partially. This ship is configured far differently, but looks are not the only variance. There is no such thing as 'down time,' on a Vulcan vessel. The culture aboard this ship, meanwhile, is quite...different." She reached out and increased the speed to a fast jog. "May I inquire what it is your apparatus is simulating? I have never seen anything like it."

'It's based on the motions of rowing on a body of water. If it was a canoe I would have oars in place of this bar,' Plaatjes said, slowing down so he could show the parts of the machine he was talking about. 'It's an efficient way to warm up, and fatigue the body somewhat as it uses around eighty per-cent of the human musculature.' Looking at a fixed point just above her head to avoid any distractions, he asked, 'nothing similar on Vulcan then?'

T'Ria cut her eyes over to study the chief engineer's movements on the unusual machine. Yes, it certainly did appear to engage a significant portion of his musculature. After staring for a few seconds beyond what would be considered polite--to human sensibilities, anyway--Her eyes returned to their original position gazing straight ahead at the bulkhead across the gym. "No. I never saw water in the quantities necessary to place a 'boat' upon until I came to Earth. Such an exercise apparatus does not translate very well."

'Earth must have been quite alien for you then,' Plaatjes said as he finished his warm-up. A bit slower than he liked, but given the conversation, he didn't seem to mind it so much. 'I think humans sometimes don't realise how odd we must seem to other species we've encountered. We're very different, even from Andorians and Tellarites ... '

"I only was able to explore the areas in and surrounding San Fransisco, but I found it to be..." She inwardly sighed and turned up the speed on her treadmill. Her voice took on a slightly breathless quality as she began to push herself. "We have two seas on Vulcan, and I have never seen them. I have never experienced precipitation. Within the first day on Earth, I encountered both. Water is a rare commodity on Vulcan; my people once battled just for the right to drink from a well. To find myself saturated in it within minutes of landing was..." Her words paused as she considered just how 'honest' she wanted to be. With a brief nod to herself, T'Ria committed to truth. "It was decadent. Your planet is a geologic paradise."

'San Francisco is decadent in many ways,' Plaatjes replied, keeping his attention firmly on the shoulder press machine bolted to the gym floor. 'I didn't know Vulcan had only two seas. It seems extraordinary that life should be able to evolve in such a harsh environment.'

"Vulcan used to be far more habitable - in fact, fossil evidence has indicated that at one time nearly 80% of my planet was covered in water, and once held a thriving ecosystem, much like Earth is now. The Vulcan Science Directorate currently theorizes that a rogue planet struck 40 Eridani A - Vulcan's orbit was in perigee and was struck by large solar flares along with actual stellar material ripped from the star by the rogue planet's impact. In the following perturbations, the orbit of Vulcan was drawn closer to 40 Eridani A, increasing ambient temperatures and causing violent tectonic shifting that has made much of our planet geologically unstable."

Nodding, Plaatjes recalled from his school days that 40 Eridani A was only one of the stars in the Vulcan system, thought it was the one the Vulcan's homeworld orbited. 'I had no idea that had happened to yours in the distant past,' Bracing his feet against the floor, Plaatjes pushed against the handles of the shoulder machine, driving them upwards eight times in a controlled fashion. By the eighth, he could barely lift the levers, and allowed them to come crashing down as he rested his arms. 'Not dissimilar to what happened to Earth in the distant past - though not as disastrous for us in the long term.' He shook his head, 'it speaks to Vulcan resilience that you were able to survive and thrive in such an environment.'

"Humans are just as resilient, if not more so in my experience. Your planet has numerous biomes that have been successfully populated. It has given way to a unique heterogeneity in subtle biological adaptations along with cultural variations...Given your unique accentuation of a number of words I have detected, I surmise that you are not from the San Francisco area." Her words came out in a more breathy tone as she increased the treadmill speed, now running at an all-out sprint.

As he looked to the floor, and away from the rear of the running machine, Plaatjes nodded as he finished another set of eight, and tried his shoulder. 'Yes, I'm actually from South Africa - near Bloemfontein to be precise. A very different kind of place from San Francisco. Higher elevation, mostly drier too.' He smiled, 'but incredibly beautiful - you must visit if you ever get the chance.'

"I will take your endorsement under advisement..." T'Ria responded neutrally enough. She did not have the freedom of movement that would allow such a serendipitous trip. High Command held the final say on where their 'valued' officers could go; but it would be most agreeable to be able to experience more of Earth's varied environment and cultural sub-sets. "How is your shoulder faring, commander?" T'Ria asked, recalling the purpose of this meeting - to ensure that the chief engineer was functioning within acceptable parameters...she had gotten, what was the word? Distracted.

'It feels great - the movement is fine, and I seem to be able to load the weight through it,' Plaatjes replied with a grin, rubbing his fingers along his shoulder. 'You're an absolute miracle worker,' he said with genuine conviction.

T'Ria dipped her head; such overt praise was uncomfortable in it's alienness. "I come to serve." She responded in a knee-jerk manner. Vulcans valued 'service.' It was an innate duty, after all.

'Well, I think you might be my first port of call for any aches and pains,' Plaatjest replied lightly as he rubbed a hand from his shoulder down across his bicep. 'Between this and my back, you'll make me a man a decade younger by my count - and I'll be very grateful for it.'

"Given that I am the Chief Medical Officer, it would be logical to seek out my services with any illness or injury." She responded neutrally at first. "Just understand that there are injuries that would necessitate being transferred a Starfleet Medical facility for adequate interventions..."

'What injuries?' Plaatjes asked as he slowed to a stop, frowning. 'Nothing I have, surely?'

Her quick huff of air on the exhale was conveniently hidden within the sounds of her feet slapping against the surface of the treadmill. However, T'Ria was most assuredly...amused. "You are currently fit for duty, commander. One must simply remember their limitations. That is all. " She replied serenely.

To be continued...

=====

Major T'Ria
Chief Medical Officer

Lieutenant Commander Mattys Plaatjes
Chief Engineering Officer

Lieutenant Mattys Plaatjes
Chief Engineering Officer

 

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