Working Off Some Steam

Posted on Thu Oct 9th, 2025 @ 1:06pm by Commander Steven Greco & Lieutenant Evelyn Stewart & Lieutenant Tollan Yara & Commander Calvin 'Cal' Maraj & Lieutenant Commander Keishara Davaris & Lieutenant Dashku Zhevou & Lieutenant T'Mara & Lieutenant JG Baaru Liana & 1st Lieutenant Kes Th’relnal & Lieutenant JG Koaruh Avestro & Gunnery Sergeant Matewa Natana

4,745 words; about a 24 minute read

Mission: Year One: Strange Bedfellows
Location: USS Moore - Cargo Bay 2
Timeline: MD 037: 1530 hrs

Steve sauntered into the cargo bay to see all the marines busy at working reconfiguring the storage space and setting up a makeshift boxing ring. With an incredulously look at the crew, he made his way over to senior marine officer and Matewa. “I still can’t believe the captain is allowing you to put this on.” He commented to Th’relnal about the schedule event for the Moore’s crew set to start in a little more than an hour.

"Better than therapy in my experience." Kes replied as he handed off the turn buckles to Richardson to install. "Let me know if you have any concerns that can't be fixed by a trip to medical."

"Make sure the ropes are tight enough but still have some give. We don't want people getting knocked over. This isn't wrestling!" Kes shouted as he watched two crewmen at a corner as the ropes sagged nearby.

"Which is a shame. I'm more a wrestler than a boxer." Matewa gestured to his body. "But working things out like this is better, faster and solves potential grudges. Although I'm surprised the captain let this go as well. Knocking lumps out of each other doesn't seem very logical..." he grumbled.

Greco gave a small smile as he took in what Matewa said. "Something tells me he had a little El Aurian voice in his ear presenting an argument for such events." He stated about the hot-headed security chief and her close relationship with the captain. With a sigh, the first officer only shook his head. So long as it was sanctioned by the captain, there was really nothing he could do. In truth, he thought such an event for the ship personnel would be good. He could feel the tension on the ship building ever sense the Orions came aboard. An event where the crew could relax and let out that building pressure may do some good, once the good doctor healed them up in Sickbay. "Let's just hope Doctor T'Mara is ready for such an event. Carry on." He ordered to the men as he went to review the roster and see which of the crew already called each other out. Looking at the roster, he decided it was worth ship morale to take a few lumps and signed himself up for taking on any challenger.

Kes was about to walk over and check the ropes himself when the Padd began to send him alerts upon alerts. He glanced down at it and then at the retreating form of the first officer. Kes wasn't sure if Greco was brave, stupid, or both. Kes watched as the requests poured in. "Matewa... make doubly sure the doc is on hand."

"Yes, boss. I will." Matewa nodded and snapped to. He would contact the doctor in a more quiet location than the hustle and bustle of the putting up on the boxing ring.

A clattering of equipment falling and rolling across the deck caught Kes' attention and he sighed. "I don't understand how you think you're going to be able to go in the ring if you can't build it without beating it up first." He walked over to supervise the construction more closely.

<<< Cargo Bay 2 2000 hrs >>>

The ring was up and properly tightened. Most people who had put their names in the hat had changed into a more casual outfit. People were starting to file in both for their time in the ring and to watch the event. There were whispers of bets for duty shifts, but mostly on the down low.

Kes walked back into the cargo bay wearing grey shorts and a black tank top. He was only tangentially familiar with the rules for boxing. Mostly that it was fists only. Strange humans to make so many rules for a fight.

"Alright, who's first?"

Yara grinned as he saw the Andorian marine walking in amongst the sea of spectators. “I think you are missing something, Lieutenant.” He said with a wry grin, gesturing to the man’s bare blue hands, “Gloves are required, Commander’s orders.” He added before gesturing Kes to follow him to the wall where the replicator was and gave the proper specifications.

"So many rules and variations in human games." Kes sighed as he looked over the options. "We have medical support for a reason." He picked out a simple pair of black gloves and put one on before realizing the second would be impossible without help.

"Yara, a hand please." He grumbled. The gloves did little more than make him feel like it was a handicap.

Yara smirked as he helped the Andorian put on and lace up his gloves properly. "Well that's T'Mara's problem tonight. I'm here to get drunk and clean you all up for your next round." He said with a grin about his self-appointment as the cut man in one of the corners. "So who did you sign up to go against?"

"I put myself as an option mostly," Kes said with a grin. "Chance to show the boss what's what. I did join the line-up for Greco though. Just hope he's still standing by the time I get my turn."

Stewart quietly weaved through the crowd with Koaruh. With her hand in his as she led them to towards the one side of the makeshift ring so they would have a good view of the fights. She was surprised she wasn't nervous or anxious about being seen with the Betazoid, it felt natural. "You ever been to one of these?" She asked him over the din of the crowd milling about.

Koaruh gave her hand a gentle squeeze, his eyes scanning the room with amused curiosity. “Not exactly my usual Saturday evening, but I have to admit… there’s a certain charm in watching your shipmates punch each other senseless in the name of bonding.” He flashed Evelyn a wry grin, his voice smooth and teasing. “Though I’d prefer a dance floor to a boxing ring any day. Fewer bruises, more rhythm.” He leaned in slightly. “Still, I wouldn't miss this for the world. Watching marines flirt with unconsciousness? Therapeutic.”

Evelyn pulled Avestro to stand behind her and hold her, using his chest to comfortably rest against. She smirked at his comment about preferring step on the dance floor instead of the ring. "The only dancing you seem to want to do lately is on your back." She teased, "I'll have to setup a proper time on the holodeck for us."

With a relaxed sigh, she watched the crowd across from the ring milling about. She could hear Char from the makeshift bar calling for bets based on the roster and chuckled softly for a moment, remembering the underground gambling ring she helped run during her time at the Academy. With a glance up at Koaruh from his shoulder she smirked. "It's probably best that you have no taste for the sport. Wouldn't want anything happening to that pretty face of yours." She teased with a light, playful tap on his cheek before smiling and giving him a short, chaste kiss of affection.

Calvin stepped into Cargo Bay 2, the low murmur of the crowd and rhythmic thuds of training drills meeting his ears like an old tune. His gaze landed on the makeshift ring in the centre of the bay, ropes tightened, mats scuffed already with the marks of early warm-ups. A faint grin played on his face. He hadn’t boxed properly in years—not since his academy days—but the muscle memory was still there, humming somewhere under the skin.

He rolled his shoulders once, letting the familiar anticipation settle over him, then made his way through the organised chaos toward Lieutenant Th’relnal Kes, who was overseeing a pair of crewmen adjusting corner posts.

“Lieutenant,” Calvin called as he approached, “I see you’ve outdone yourself.”

Kes looked back and then turned, accepting the comment with a nod. "There's so many rules for this. Just setting it up is a trial." He lifted his hands and showed the gloves fastened over his hands. "And don't get me started on these things."

A low whistle cut through the chatter near the entrance.

Kei stepped into Cargo Bay 2 like she owned the deck, dressed down in dark workout gear, gloves already slung over her shoulder. She scanned the crowd with a cool, unreadable expression, eyes narrowing slightly at the sagging corner of the ring. “If that rope snaps mid-swing, I’m assigning the injured party to paperwork duty for the next two weeks,” she muttered loud enough for nearby crew to hear, drawing a few nervous chuckles.

Her gaze found Kes. “I hope you’re keeping a medkit under the ring. I don’t want to hear it from T’Mara if this turns into a triage ward.”

She moved toward the edge of the gathering crowd, arms crossed, watching the warm-ups with a discerning eye. “Let them punch out their frustrations now,” she said under her breath. “Better a bruised jaw than a phaser on the wrong setting later.”

"Please do not create anymore work for me, if at all possible. I have a full schedule in the OR at the beginning of alpha shift and would prefer to not have any additional add-ons." The authoritative tone in T'Mara's voice allowed for it to carry across the space. The mask of the competent--if stuck-up physician--was firmly in place. "One can cause much residual discomfort without necessitating a trip to sick bay. If there is enough interest, I am willing to host a work-shop at a future date."

"Great, what everyone wants. A morning listening to a Vulcan drone on about correct medical procedures." Stewart said as she approached the group, Koaruh in tow.

"Stewart..." Yara said as a soft chide to the pilot from the ring corner he was pearched on nearby. Stewart simply responded by holding her hands up defensively to signal she was going to back off.

Walking into the bay, Liana had heard about this stress relief session and was eager to work out some of her own stress. In particular, she wanted to throw hand with the Marine CO Kes, get out some of her pent up aggression toward the marine. Ever since the situation with the Whisperers on that colony, Liana had been avoiding Kes just in case she let her temper get the better of her and she lashed out. Wearing a pair of white kick-boxing gloves, a black tank top and yellow shorts, she was ready for some stress relief.

Dashku hadn't been sure about attending the stress relief session, things regarding her family just a few hundred meters away was causing a lot of complicated turbulence in her life. The call of her old life vs having her feet firmly planted in the one she'd built since going her own way. The lingering concern about the rest of the crew viewing her differently because of those same people wasn't helping ease her anxiety, even if it wasn't at the forefront of her mind.

She arrived in the cargo bay, dressed much like she would if she were sparing. A pair of nice athletic shoes, a pair of high wasted yellow leggings and a matching sports bra that covered her rather well. She tried to slip in with as little notice as possible.

"Are we hear to talk or to fight?" Called out Lieutenant Carmichael from inside the ring, slapping his gloves together with a grin. He eyed the Andorian with a fun twinkle in his eye as he pointed him out.

Kes ducked under the rope and entered the ring. He tilted his head one way and then the other, feeling the vertebrae pop in his neck. He casually tapped his gloves together and sized up his first opponent. It was one of the Starfleet crew and he wasn't overly familiar with the wiry man who danced around lightly on his feet and shadow boxed. Kes couldn't help but smile as the bell rang and the pair took the first steps toward one another.

Carmichael had not nearly a long reach compared to the towering marine. He attempted to use it to his smaller size to his advantage and stepped into the Andorian, though it left his own punches weak and he was off balance when he went to whip a right hook at Kes' face when he countered a punch by the powerful marine.

Watching from beside the ring, Stewart caught eyes with Keishara across the way to join her and the therapist in watching the first.

Kes leaned back and shifted his weight to his rear foot as Carmichael's glove came close enough to his nose that he could feel the breeze. Kes shifted his weight from his back to his front foot and came across with his left fist to make contact with Carmichael's rib. The satisfying feeling of the impact lasted only a moment as Carmichael responded with a body blow of his own.

Suddenly Kes felt a shooting pain and numbness up and down his side. The grin he'd begun the fight with disappeared as he took a moment to regain his senses. Carmichael had taken advantage of his daze and delivered a few more hits before Kes could mount a proper defense. This wasn't a game anymore. Kes scowled and the first opening he saw in Carmichael's form he took it and clocked him on the right side of his head, spinning him around and down to the matt.

Keishara didn’t flinch when Carmichael hit the mat. She simply arched a brow and let out a low breath through her nose, arms still crossed, eyes fixed on the ring like a hawk watching a predator circle too wide.

“That’s one way to learn not to underestimate your opponent,” she muttered, more to herself than anyone nearby.

She stepped forward slightly, angling for a better view as Kes reset his stance. Her voice, calm and measured, cut through the murmuring crowd with the sharpness of a drawn blade.

“Let this be a lesson,” she said flatly, not looking away from the ring. “A controlled environment doesn’t mean a safe one. If you step in there thinking this is sport, you’re going to leave it remembering it’s training.”

Her gaze flicked briefly to a pair of younger security officers lingering near the edge of the crowd, visibly uncertain. She offered no comfort—only the truth.

“Confidence is earned. Not replicated.”

Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, “Someone wake Carmichael up before I have to file the paperwork.”

From just outside the ring, Calvin let out a low whistle, arms folded across his chest as he watched Carmichael hit the mat.

“Well,” he remarked dryly, glancing at Kes, “remind me not to schedule any diplomatic sparring with you.”

Kes let out a ragged breath as he fought the pain down. His antenna slowly slopped forward as he realized what his reaction had been.

He stepped forward slightly, eyes scanning the ring, the crowd, the nervous energy shifting from tension to excitement. “Good hit, Lieutenant. But try not to break the crew before Gamma shift, yeah?” There was amusement in his tone, but the underlying message was clear: play hard, but don’t be stupid.

He turned his head toward Keishara and gave her the faintest nod—an unspoken acknowledgement that her warning had landed exactly as intended.

“Let’s keep it clean. I’d rather morale get a boost tonight, not a medical review tomorrow.”

With that, he stepped back into the crowd again, waiting for his own name to be called.

Koaruh watched Carmichael hit the mat with a wince and a low whistle. “Well,” he murmured, “that’s one way to process repressed workplace tension.”

He leaned slightly into Evelyn, smirking as he murmured, “Remind me to schedule follow-ups for everyone whose coping strategy involves a closed fist and a public audience.”

As Keishara’s voice cut through the crowd with clinical precision, Koaruh didn’t bother hiding the slow smile tugging at his lips. “Ah, and there it is—therapy by fear.” He raised his voice just enough to carry across the noise. “Commander Davaris, you do know it’s possible to inspire discipline without threatening to assign someone a body bag and a paperwork audit?”

He tilted his head, faux-curious. “Or is the trauma part of the training module now?”

Without missing a beat, he turned back to Evelyn, eyes glinting. “Ten credits says she’s secretly enjoying this more than anyone else here. El Aurians and emotional carnage—they go together like synthehol and bad decisions.”

Kes ducked low to get out of the ring and bit the strap of one of his gloves to pull it off before using his free hand to pull the other off. His stomach was in a knot. He had no qualms about winning a fight. He didn't care if he lost a good fight. But Carmichael had been expecting a friendly sparing match, not to get his bell rung by an pain crazed Andorian. He needed a drink and something to deaden the pain inside him.

Standing off to one side, Liana watched Kes with a disappointed frown. She thought she might not get the match she wanted now, but she also wasn’t going to kick a guy when he was already hurt. Giving a sigh, she stepped towards the ring and waited for the next match.

Stewart laughed at Koaruh's comment and eyed Liana as she entered the ring, noticing Dulay's counterpart in the shuttlebay, Regina Janson, stepping in. "Oh this aught to be good." she commented watching the young human sizing up the Bajoran, Cardassian hybrid. "Twenty latinum on Baaru." She commented into Koaruh's chest so he could hear her, unable to resist her penchant to gamble.

Looking over Regina, Liana stepped towards her, “alright, show me what you’ve got” she said, tapping her gloves together

Regina circled around with the Bajorian hybrid for a moment before she tested Baaru’s defenses with a few quick jabs. Seeing the solid defense, she move to bob and punch hard into the engineer’s ribs, connecting before moving for a combination, jabbing at Liana’s other ribs.

Koaruh huffed a laugh into Evelyn's hair, eyes never leaving the ring. “You know my luck—if I touch that bet, Baaru trips over the stool.” He pressed a quick kiss to her temple. “Go on then, put your twenty with Char. I’ll hedge ten on Janson just to guarantee your payout. Consider it my charitable contribution to your terrible influence.”

His gaze tracked the pair squaring up. “Watch Liana’s hips—she’s fighting with something she actually wants to hit. If Regina keeps light and jabs, this goes a few rounds. If she plants wrong once…” He gave a low whistle. “Buy T’Mara a coffee in the morning.”

Regina saw the advantage and pursued it and held her guard up as she stepped into Baaru's space again. A flash of hands and she unleashed a quick flurry. Her hands slammed first into the left ribs, then the right ribs - a hair of a moment for the Bajoran to feel those punches and reel forward before connecting a strong right hand along the engineer's jaw with a powerful cross as the end of the round signaled.

Stewart watched in amused annoyance. "Come on, Baaru! You are getting beat like a little bitch!" she shouted in an attempt to motivate the woman. Silently she calculated if she'd have to dip into her savings to pay the debt to Koaruh. With a frustrated sigh, she shook her head and kissed Koaruh's cheek, whispering in his ear she will get them each something, before heading to the makeshift bar to place their bets and bring back something to drink.

As the timer until the second round ticked, Yara worked quickly to wash off the sweat and cool Liana down before reaching for the dermal regenerator. There wasn't enough time between rounds for the medical tool to work properly, but it would reduce the swelling. "Listen, keep your guard up! She's drawing you out to catch you. Move your feet and keep her from planting. Got it?" He asked in his role as cornerman.

Tag Baaru/Any

Stewart stepped through the crowd, weaving her way to the makeshift bar, grinning at Char when she saw him. "Hey Char...I need two Trakian ales. And twenty latinum on Baaru for me and ten on Janson for Koaruh." She said, leaning over the bar and talking loudly in his ear to be heard over the chaotic crowd.

Char nodded about the drinks and frowned at the bet, eyes moving to the direction of the ring before back at Stewart. "Baaru, are you sure? That's a lot of latinum." He shouted back to make sure he heard the helmsman right.

Stewart just gave a small grin and nodded. "Trust me." She shouted back confidently before turning to watch the room while she waited. Her eyes naturally drifted to Koaruh ring side and she smiled to herself, enjoying the moment for what it was.

Keishara slid in at Evelyn’s shoulder, eyes still on the ring. “If you’re backing Baaru, tell her to drive from the hips and stop throwing from her shoulders—she’ll listen to you before she listens to me.”

She let a breath go. “And, Evelyn… I’m not trying to be your conscience, but I can count. Stryvek hasn’t been gone long and you and Koaruh are close already.” Now she looked over, steady rather than sharp. “I’m not angry about it. I just want to know it’s you choosing it—not the quiet after a loss, not the need to fill a space. If it is what you want, say so and I’ll shut up. If it isn’t, I’d rather you tell me than pretend.”

Stewart had turned back to the bar when she saw Keishara approaching. She saw Char on the far side, still taking bets to place before the end of the round and blew her frustration out of her nose at the fact she was stuck waiting.

While Keishara was lecturing about Baaru's form, Evelyn got the attention of a young ensign who was helping Char with the bar as he was pouring shots, signaling to pour her one.

After downing the liquor and relishing the burn, Evelyn turned her attention to Kei, finally tuning into what the El-Aurian was saying, picking up on her comments about Stryvek and how fast she moved on to Koaruh. She knew deep down Keishara meant well, being concerned for her friend, but all Evelyn could hear was judgement in the security chief' voice. "Yeah? Well I don't need advice about how to handle grief, or relationships with superior officers for that matter, from you, Kei." She glanced up, eyes scanning for Char in growing annoyance as her fingers circled the tabletop in growing agitation, waiting for a second shot from the ensign as she waited impatiently for Char.

"But if it bothers you seeing Koaruh and I together, maybe we can find somewhere to sneak off to that won't bother you - like in a weapons closet, maybe?" She asked sarcastically with a clear edge in her tone as she held Keishara's gaze for a moment before downing the second shot and telling the ensign to get Char brusquely. Stewart wasn't the only one the ship gossiped about. She had heard the rumors of the first officer and tactical officer having their own transactional affair.

Keishara’s laugh was low, sharp at the edges. “A weapons closet? That’s what they’re whispering now? You’ve been around long enough to know better than most how quick this crew is to invent stories about who’s warming whose bunk—especially when it comes to senior officers.” Her gaze cut to Evelyn, steady, a shade pointed. “So forgive me if I don’t lose sleep over the gossip mill.”

She let the words hang for a beat, then added, quieter but still firm, “I don’t care what the whispers are, Ev. I care that you’re not just running headlong into Koaruh for the wrong reasons. If it’s real, then great. If it’s not, don’t make him the stop-gap.”

Stewart shrugged at Keishara's words dismissively about the rumors, a certain bitterness creeping into her tone. "People will say whatever makes them feel better about their own messes." She said about the rumors about Kei and Greco.

She stopped though when she heard what Kei had to say about Evelyn's own behavior. Running headlong into Koaruh for all the wrong reasons...if it's not real then don't make him a stop-gap...Evelyn knew what Stryvek was to her. She was still dealing with the physical pain of the bond being severed on a daily basis. It was all she could do to keep it together some days, seeing and feeling absence as much as she still feels his presence.

Stewart just stared across the bar as she fumed, chewing at her inner lip as she listened. Desperately she tried to unconsciously control her building temper but failed. Her weight shifted and her fingers gripped the shot glass tighter for a brief moment. "Who the hell do you think you are?" Stewart snapped and turned swiftly, shoulders cocking as she went to shove Keishara hard, quick and angry.

Keishara had felt it building long before Evelyn snapped. The heat of her temper brushed like static against her senses—tightening jaw, the chew at her lip, shoulders coiling forward. By the time Evelyn spun to shove her, Kei was already shifting her weight, half a step back and angled, letting the push slide wide.

She caught the motion cleanly, arm snaking around to trap Evelyn’s in a rear entanglement, pulling her into controlled stillness that looked to the crowd like nothing more than a firm check. Calm, collected, her tone never rose above the din.

Kei's voice was even, calm enough to cut through Evelyn’s temper. “Easy. You don’t want to do this here.” She tightened just enough for Evelyn to feel the control, not pain. “Walk it off, Ev. Breathe. Before this goes anywhere you don’t mean it to.”

Her mouth tilted, voice lower so only Evelyn could hear. “I’m not your enemy—don’t make me stand in that place.”

Then Kei released, giving Evelyn a light push forward, far enough out of her own fighting arc to make it clear the moment was over and the choice to walk away was hers.

Stewart turned and just glared at Kei as her body shook with the effort to control her temper. She rotated her shoulder back a few times to edge out the discomfort as her chest heaved. Finally, she looked past Keishara towards the bar. "Ensign, tell Char to forget it." She said sharply, her eyes catching Keishara's once more before she stormed back to Koaruh's said, shaking her head at the look on his face, silently telling him to drop it before turning her attention back to the fight.

Stewart moved to Koaruh's side and watched the fight, silently fuming over the exchange at the bar. She wished she did stay and finished placing the bet because Regina miscalculated and instead of leaning away from the punch, walked right into it and was laid out on the sweat soaked canvas within a moment.

Janson didn't start coming around until the crew man shouted to four and only shook her head to try to clear the stars in front of her eyes.

"Five...six...seven...eight..." the crewman counted out as he glanced towards the timekeeper, signaling to prepare to ring the bell as he watched the shuttle pilot slowly rolling to her knees and hands, but had no motivation to move from that spot. When he finally shouted to ten, the bell rang quickly and decisively with Baaru being declared the winner as the crew roared in a burst of pent up energy they've been collectively holding in for weeks while dealing with the Syndicate.

To Be Continued...

 

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