Pick Ups and Chin Ups - Part 2

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

2,269 words; about a 11 minute read

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

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.

And now the continuation...

'Limitations!' Plaatjes replied with mock outrage as he glanced at T'Ria's legs, then away. 'I haven't heard such tosh in a long time,' he chuckled as he moved to one of the squat racks and took the barbell off its rest and placed it delicately on the floor before slotting some weights at either end. 'Not all of us can have Vulcan stamina in oxygen-rich environments, unfortunately.'

"It was not your stamina that I was referring to, commander." T'Ria responded in a slightly breathy tone. "I have noted a number of humans use poor body mechanics on a statistically significant number of occasions. Many injuries I have treated are from overuse or misuse injuries." She glanced over to Plaatjes with a pointed look. "I only seek to give insight so you do not injure yourself again."

This was an interesting way to engage in physical activity, she mused silently. She also recognized that her words and tone could be considered somewhat...goading or provoking. Plaatjes did seem more than willing to rise to her commentary. Although it wasn't at all fun--because Vulcans do not have fun--T'Ria was deriving a small sense of gratification from this exchange.

For a fleeting second, Plaatjes thought it would be worth picking up an inconvenient injury if he got treated by T'Ria again. He pushed the thought away quickly, meeting the Vulcan's eyes as she not-quite-scolded him, before flicking his eyes away just as fast as he flicked away the thoughts. 'Yes, that's uh, good advice, in fairness,' he conceded as he started a short set of deadlifts.

"It is logical." T'Ria added, her response on auto-pilot. Inwardly she winced, for that sort of response was meant for a Vulcan, not a human male. "It is in my best interest to keep you in peak physical form, commander. Space is an unforgiving environment to serve in, and your expertise regarding the operations and maintenance and repair of this vessel is paramount. Crew health is my realm but the entire vessel and it's well-being is yours."

'And the occasional quarters-call to fix faulty connections,' Plaatjes flashed a smile. 'The well-being of the ship also means the crew's well-being, whatever their backgrounds. Having finished his sets, he was stood leaning against the upright of one of the weight frames. 'I think that's a logical extension of my functions on the ship, anyhow.'

"I concur." She looked down and noted the time and distance traveled. 10 kilometers. It was an acceptable distance for a 'light' run. Reaching out she began the 'cool-down' sequence. Later she would return to perform weight training to maintain muscle mass in this lighter gravity environment.

Stepping off the treadmill, she walked over to her belongings and commented, "I did not notice any deficiencies in your stances or mechanics. Just ensure you maintain proper form and no twisting motions. If you have any further concerns, I am on-call 24 hours a day, commander."

'For any needs?' Plaatjes teased with a smile before remembering he was talking with a Vulcan. Strange how he had slipped into the comfortable teasing he would with a human. He straightened, unnerved a little by his realisation. Trying to think of a way to move past his implication, his brain foundered.

T'Ria raised her brow in a subtle display of skepticism as she attempted to parse out just what Plaatjes was attempting to communicate. Given the smile he had displayed after his inquiry, She postulated that perhaps his question was meant in a humorous manner, but his subsequent reaction was...confounding. Human non-verbal communication was so deceptively complex that much of the unspoken context they engaged in was still indecipherable. He appeared--for lack of another emotive state that fit--unnerved. Ah. It all clicked and the context became clear.

What would be the appropriate response to this? She was uncertain. Well, you cannot simply stand here. Say something.

"I have observed that humans demonstrate improved efficiency when all of their needs are appropriately taken care of. So...perhaps. It could be considered logical, given your crucial role upon this ship."

Plaatjes fought a blush, and ducked down to begin putting his equipment back in his rucksack. It didn't take long, and soon he was stood back up, cheeks refusing to lose their heat or ruddiness. Affecting non-chalance, he smiled, 'at least if it's logical then.' He glanced away quickly, tempting images demanding his attention.

T'Ria tilted her head and studied his non-verbal responses. It would appear that the human felt...discomfited? Oh. This was not her intention to cause discomfort. She had just presumed given how...promiscuous humans were on general, that her offer would be received in the manner she had intended.

She was going to try to diffuse the situation, but what came out of her mouth was a non sequitur. "Your cheeks are flushed, commander. Do you require any assistance?"

'I, uh,' Plaatjes looked at her for a moment, then shook his head with a coy smile. 'No, thank you. I spoke unthinkingly.' In truth it was probably just what his subconscious wanted, but he wasn't admitting that to himself. At least not right now. Sorting through the emotional wreckage of his divorce was enough at the moment. 'I hope I didn't cause any offense.'

"There is no offense where none is taken." T'Ria replied sagely, which was Vulcan for, "No problem." In truth, she was concerned that her words had crossed some unseen line and she had somehow made things...uncomfortable. "I would make the same declaration, commander. I hope that I did not cause you offense, either."

'Far from it,' Plaatjes grinned easily, 'no offense was given, and none taken.' He shrugged, 'I just didn't know that Vulcans had such good banter, eh. There's a definite view of your people, but you're proving that there should be a more nuanced view, if you'll allow me to say so.'

"No species are truly homogeneous. Infinite diversity in infinite combinations...even amongst my species...to a degree." T'Ria quickly hedged as she picked up her sweatshirt and pulled it over her head to give her something to do. It did not do well for a Vulcan to stand out for being...unique.

'But most aren't as heterogenous as humans, eh?' Plaatjes replied with another grin. 'I think it's more disconcerting than other species let on, maybe.' He shouldered his pack, interpreting the donning of the sweatshirt as the end of the session. 'If you want an escort back to your quarters? I'd be happy to ...'

T’Ria smoothed the hem of the oversized sweatshirt as though it required adjustment, though in truth the movement was simply to occupy her hands. Escort back to her quarters? The human custom was…kind, she reminded herself. Protective. It was not an implication that she was incapable.

Her head tilted fractionally, an acknowledgment of the offer.

“It is not necessary. The vessel is secure, and my path to my quarters is direct. However—” she paused, weighing her words with a deliberation that left a heartbeat’s silence between them, “—should you wish to continue our discussion, I would not object to your company.”

The qualifier was Vulcan understatement for Yes, but I am not quite practiced in saying so.

'Well then,' Plaatjes nodded, 'a walk back to your quarters it is - not quite as scenic as walking in Cape Town or San Francisco, but it will have to suffice seeing as we're in deep space, don't you think?' The big man was quietly pleased to extend his time with her. Vulcans didn't seem to enjoy extraneous activities so he reckoned they were at least building a cordial friendship. Or what passed as friendship amongst such logical creatures.

T'Ria tilted her head slightly, making her look like she was puzzled. "Given that it is our only option currently..." Her voice trailed off as she considered how to continue. “Commander, I do not often engage in what you would call…extraneous dialogue. I will postulate that you will find the walk far less conversational than what you are accustomed to. However, I am willing to...try."

'I don't know about that,' Plaatjes replied as they walked to the door, baggage in hand, 'you've been plenty chatty so far.' He knew he was teasing her slightly, but he felt he was mostly right in it. 'And you're not too bad at it, you know. I'm not one to talk about the weather anyway, so you've kept my interest. As I hope I've kept yours,' he winked.

She tilted her head in a non-verbal gesture of assent. She had been uncharacteristically 'chatty'...but that was an expectation amongst humans if the interaction with the chief engineer was any indication. "Of course," She continued, "I would not continue if I did not find it stimulating."

'It would be illogical for you to do so,' Plaatjes nodded as he palmed the door control and stepped aside to let her through first. 'So ... Starfleet. How'd you end up serving with us?'

"I volunteered for the Interspecies Medical Exchange. Upon completion, I was approached by Starfleet and offered a position as CMO - Vulcan High Command approved the posting..." She tilted her head and made a small non-verbal gesture with her fingers - something subtle to a human, perhaps, but to another Vulcan it said without words, And here I stand. She was silent afterwards, perhaps waiting for the next question, and not understanding quite how tit-for-tat worked in human exchanges. Was she curious about Plaatjes? Of course, but Vulcans were 'private.' They did not ask 'personal questions.'

'That sounds like quite the journey,' Plaatjes replied, blithely unaware of the gesture. As they made their way through the quietly humming corridors of the ship, he pressed on. 'Were you with the Interspecies Exchange long? Or was it a short stint to familiarise yourself with more ... emotional species?'

"Four years, one month, and sixteen days...according to your Earth calendar." She rattled off automatically. "It was, in essence, an additional 'Fellowship' - a post-residency training program that allowed for additional training and specialization. I was fortunate to be selected for the opportunity. It was highly competitive but it allowed me to deepen my xeno-biology knowledge and skills...and Commander, humans are not the only species that utilize emotionalism. My species are somewhat singular in their approach regarding control. I did learn that many humans find engaging with Vulcans to be...exasperating." She paused for a moment looking thoughtful. "You do not appear to share that sentiment, Commander."

'I try to take people as they are,' Plaatjes replied with a quick smile. 'But I do in fact get exasperated when dealing with Vulcans. Present company excepted. You don't seem quite as ... superior in your attitudes towards humans as the few other Vulcans I've interacted with. Plus, it seems logical to get to know our new Federation allies better. It's the only way it'll work.'

T’Ria inclined her head, accepting his assessment as if it were a status report rather than a compliment. “Familiarity reduces error. If we are to function as a unified crew, increasing cross-cultural literacy is…optimal.”

'Optimal is what we strive for. And if we make friends along the way, well, it could be the start of something beautiful,' Plaatjes replied with a wink.

T’Ria slowed her stride by half a pace before the next intersection, not stopping—but registering. Her gaze shifted toward him, steady, unflinching. “Beautiful?”

There was no skepticism in the question—merely analysis. The human word occupied a space she understood in principle, but not in application to…social associations. She considered him another moment, then resumed walking. “Your usage is metaphorical,” she concluded aloud, as if confirming an internal hypothesis. “Not aesthetic. You are implying positive relational development rather than visual appeal.”

Another heartbeat. Then, gently: “That… would not be an unwelcome outcome.”

They reached her door. For a Vulcan, this was the moment of parting—precise, contained. She clasped her hands at her lower back, posture more formal, her equilibrium reinstated now that they stood at the threshold between shared and private space. “Thank you for accompanying me, Commander Plaatjes. The gesture was… socially considerate.”

A pause—not hesitation, but intent. “I would not object to further interaction in the future.”

'And I would positively welcome it,' Plaatjes replied with a grin. 'Thank you for being such ... stimulating company.' He hovered for a second, wondering if he should say something more, before reminding himself that Vulcans weren't really into long goodbyes. He nodded, and said, 'I'm sure we'll run into one another soon enough.'

T'Ria dipped her head in a non-verbal gesture acknowledging his words. "Given the confined area of this vessel, it is...quite likely. Good day, Commander."

Nodding in return, he flashed a smile, 'I think it's already turned out to be one, Major.' He gave her a wave. 'Be seeing you then.

::OFF::

=====

Major T'Ria
Chief Medical Officer

&

Lieutenant Mattys Plaatjes
Chief Engineering Officer

 

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