Workout

Posted on Wed 31st May, 2017 @ 8:55pm by Commander Paul Graves PsyD & Lieutenant Colonel Brooklyn Wellington
Edited on on Thu 8th Jun, 2017 @ 2:18pm

2,327 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: Unity Week
Location: Gym
Timeline: MD-3 0600 hours

Paul yawned as he left the gym locker room and went to the wall to do stretches before his morning run around the track that ringed the gym. He preferred the track to the treadmills because he liked the feel of truly running, rather than doing it on a set of rollers. He preferred to run at stupid o'clock in the morning because fewer people used the gym at this time of day than in the evening.

He finished his stretches and jogged onto the sloping ramp that led to the track. It spiraled up at a gentle incline before spiraling downward on the other end of the gym at the same angle of descent. Paul set off at a light run to warm up and then increased to full speed. For the few minutes he was able to maintain the pace, the exhilarating sense of freedom and rightness filled him before his body started to protest, and he had to slow back to his normal speed.

Another couple of people came in. Paul recognized one of them from the senior staff meetings--Captain Wellington from the fighter wings. He waved as he continued his run.

Brooklyn caught the sight of a man she recognized as the station's counselor waving at her as he ran on the track. She returned the wave as she began light calisthenics to warm her muscles up. She made her way to the track, spotting the counselor several yards ahead. She ran at a pace that would allow her to catch up with him. A minute passed before she was running next to him. "I'm surprised to see you in here this early, sir."

"Good morning," he said and gave her a brief smile. "I don't like being in here when it's crowded, so I come early." He shrugged. "The track's clearer, too. I'm surprised you're here at this godforsaken hour."

"Sleep is overrated," she joked with a grin. "Seriously, this is about the only time I get to work out. The rest of my day is filled with reports and training my department and the wannabes in the training squadron."

"Yes, it's the same with me. If I'm not seeing patients, I'm writing reports or training new staff--or learning new duties. Keeps me busy, but no, it doesn't leave much time for the gym." Paul fell silent for a few moments as they rounded a curve in the track. "How are the fighter squadrons shaping up? I haven't seen Moklor in a while."

Brooklyn shook her head slightly. "Unfortunately Moklor received new orders several days ago, so he's no longer with the department. As for the squadrons, they're coming along nicely. Many in the Black Knight and Spartan Squadrons need to develop their combat abilities some but it's to be expected from a fighter wing that for the most part have never experienced combat. To be honest, I'm surprised you haven't called me in for a meeting."

"Well, I'll admit, I'm not a fan of sending to the Counselor every incoming crewman, just because they're transferring in. I want to see the people who need to see me. I don't like having my time taken up by people who are fine and are not experiencing any emotional difficulties. That takes time away from me working with the people who truly do need help." Paul gave Brooklyn a wry look. "That said, seeing every Starfleet crewman who comes here does give me a swift idea of who needs help, who's trying to hide needing it, and who doesn't need counseling at all. So I suppose I have to take the whole of it and make the best of the practice. What I prefer to do is deal with situations as they arise and to also give ongoing training in stress management when there are no crises."

"Well that's good to hear," Brooklyn commented as they rounded another curve in the track. In truth, she wasn't a big fan of counselors as many staff officers thought seeing a counselor meant you had mental issues and that led to not getting promoted or assigned to a dead end job in Starfleet. Yet Commander Graves was fascinating to her as he didn't appear to be like most counselors she had known. "Did you have your hands full during the recent Bajoran protests?"

"I saw a couple of people because of them," Paul said, "Bajorans who had suffered under Breloc Tejar, for whom the change-of-venue decision aroused anger and grief." He shook his head. "Feelings like that don't just disappear. They fade as long as a person goes on to have new, happier experiences. The only thing that can cure the pain is genuine forgiveness, and some acts are too horrific to allow that. Most people want to see at least some real remorse from a person who harmed them before they can forgive. Tejar is not a remorseful sort of individual."

Brooklyn was silent for a moment as she considered what Paul said as she recalled her feelings towards the Breen. "Some things simply can't be forgiven--that pain will always be there, no matter what. Especially in regards to the Bajorans' given history at being used and trampled on by others."

Paul nodded. "Unfortunate but true. You've had some experience with that, yourself?"

"You could say that," Brooklyn said. "Let's just say I'm not overly fond of the Breen."

"Not the most pleasant of people at the best of times," Paul said as they rounded a curve and ran along another ascending section of track. He fell silent until they reached a flatter section. "How long have you been flying?" he asked. "You and your fighter squadrons are really good. I've seen you outside the windows from the observation decks. It's like watching ballet in the sky."

Wellington grinned and blushed slightly. "Thank you. I've been flying for about eighteen years now. Flying has always come naturally to me and in a way it relaxes me."

"Kind of like how I feel, riding a horse," Paul said. "My Dad taught me to ride and passed his love of horses on to me."

Brooklyn smiled. "I love horses. Never much use for them on Lunar One where I grew up but while at the Academy, I would sometimes visit a ranch in Montana and ride some of their trails."

"That must have been lovely, because there's so much land in Montana," Paul said. "My Dad's family owns a house and some land in northern Gloucestershire, but its acreage is small, compared to a Montana ranch. Did you go there every summer?"

"All but my last summer, which was spent doing Academy studies," Brooklyn replied as they rounded another turn. "My roommate was the one who got me to go at first as she was from Montana. It must have been nice growing up in Gloucestershire."

"Oh, I grew up on Betazed," Paul said, "I just went to Gloucestershire a few times during vacations."

"Ah, I see. Did you have family or friends there? That's quite a ways to go to ride horses," Brooklyn questioned with a grin.

Paul laughed. "My grandparents and most of Dad's side of the family live there, so yes, it was essentially an annual family reunion. I didn't realize it back then, but now that I'm older, I've come to see that they find my mother vastly entertaining. She's blindingly honest. So my aunts and female cousins take her to the shops with them to either corroborate or refute what the shop staff tell them about how well they look in the clothing they want to buy. And, of course, she buys things, too."

He imitated a female voice with an upper-crust Cotswolds accent. "'Auntie, does this dress make me look fat?' 'Yes, dear, but you are fat, so it isn't really a problem.'" Paul rolled his eyes. "I used to die of embarrassment when I was a boy and had to go shopping with them."

Brooklyn couldn't help but burst out laughing. "Your family sounds like a riot. I sometimes secretly wondered if my parents were really Ferengi in disguise with all their cares for the political arena. When I was 7, I really did believe they were aliens."

Paul made a face. "I feel for you. I hate politics because people who are deeply involved in it often become entrenched in their beliefs and unwilling to accept that people who hold the opposing or even a different view are anything less than evil. I figure we all have to live in this universe, and if we can't learn to live with each other and accept others despite their flaws, what is the point?"

"And those are just some reasons why I hate politics but those feelings will always be around and thus, there will always be wars to be fought," she said, wondering if there would really be a time when she could no longer be a Marine fighter pilot but just a simple woman--it was wishful thinking she concluded. Personally, she hated war and conflict but she was good at her job and if sacrificing that small peace of mind meant even one life could be saved then it was worth it.

"Sad but true," Paul acknowledged, "but luckily there are also times of peace." He shot Brooklyn a wry look. "Maybe that's what affords us the luxury of entrenched opinions? Sometimes I wonder."

They reached the top of the track and began the descending series of curves. "I hear there will be some kind of week-long festival being held in Tivoli Gardens soon. Are you planning to go?"

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were asking me out," she joked. "But I haven't heard of any festivals being planned with being busy with running my department. What's this festival about?"

"Who says I'm not asking you out?" Paul countered, smiling. "Something about a casino opening up down there, with a cultural/arts festival. I think the Diplomacy folks are putting it on. I could take or leave the casino, but the rest of it sounds like fun. There's to be a concert, an art exhibit, food stalls, a tetraball tournament, all sorts of things. We can figure out a way to work it around our schedules, if you're interested."

Brooklyn shrugged. Personally she hadn't expected Paul to be serious but she wasn't against it as he was friendly and rather handsome--perhaps she was reading way too much into it. There was nothing wrong with going as friends and she was sure she could make room in her schedule. "Sure, that sounds great. To be honest, I could use the break."

"So could I," Paul said. "Jekkar has been bringing in new security staff right and left, and guess who gets to do most of their incoming psych interviews? I'm ready for a change of pace."

"Ugh. Don't you have assistants to help you out with those?" Brooklyn questioned.

"Not enough. I'd be bringing in people like Jekkar is, but they're harder to find in my field. And I admit that I need to overcome some Betazoid-centric prejudice. I was trained with and taught by people who were not all empaths, but the idea of entrusting this work to them feels like...trusting a blind person to safely fly a shuttlecraft without instruments. I know it's not logical. It's something I have to overcome, but I am having a difficult time with it, and that makes me struggle to trust qualifications that I see on resumes, no matter how good they are."

"I can understand that," Brooklyn replied. "I'm used to doing things myself, despite Lieutenant O'Malley being a capable officer, though she still gets intimidated if I leave her in charge of the department for any longer than a day--but that's another story," she chuckled.

"Hopefully she'll get used to it," Paul said. "I can understand her unease. I felt the same way when Col. Drake selected me for the Second Officer position. I thought he and Hunt both had to be out of their minds."

"Why?" Brooklyn questioned. "I don't think they would have chosen you if you weren't ready for the position."

Paul chuckled. "Stage fright. There's a great difference between being ready for the position and feeling ready for it. Seeing my first patient, as a newly-minted Academy graduate, felt the same way. It didn't matter that I'd done clinical psych rotations as an intern for years beforehand. It's not like learning a physical skill, where you know you've got the chops and at least have muscle memory to carry you through."

"One thing that I've learned is to take it one thing at a time. Many people get overwhelmed by command because they take it all in at once. I learned during my first go as a Wing Commander to focus on the little details one at a time and it will all fall into place," Brooklyn explained.

"How did that work?" Paul asked. "How did you implement it?"

"Well, first, you delegate duties to those under you, then just prioritize the important stuff and then tackle them one by one. Readiness reports and the such were always placed on a back burner. My crews and department comes first. May not have made the higher ups happy but they couldn't argue with the results."

Paul nodded. "Makes sense and sounds practical to me." The two of them rounded another turn. "Are you going for another lap? I'm getting off now so I can shower before work."

"Yeah, probably one more and then I better check in before Lieutenant O'Malley has a panic attack," she chuckled. "See you at the festival then?"

"Definitely," Paul said. "Shall I email you the times when I'll be free?"

"That will be great," she said as she continued her run.

Lt. Cmdr. Paul Graves PsyD
Chief Counselor

Capt. Brooklyn Wellington
Commander Aerospace Group

 

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