Gravity of Two Worlds

Posted on Mon Sep 7th, 2026 @ 7:24pm by Lieutenant Commander Andrew Star & Lieutenant Darik Moreau

2,081 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Ghost Starship
Location: Deck 6 - Gym
Timeline: 20:07 Hours

Today had been a long day for Andrew, the youngest and yet oldest crewman of the mighty MO. He needed to de-stress from the challenges of his work... Though he was not a gym rat like the many, many servicemen of Starfleet, his interest in gymnastics reminded him of his time before Starfleet.

He was in dire need of a haircut; his fiery red hair was forcefully put in a claw clip, which gave him a slight headache. Tugging at the hem of his white shirt, his olive green shirts freely moving as he walked backwards, lining himself up for the rubber gym mats... He ran forward, as fast as his little legs could carry him, he jumped straight into the air, transformed into an aerial cartwheel like a bird, he flew through the air... Then thudded straight down onto the crash mat, no graceful landing, the tiny Human sat panting, catching his breath.

The gym was quieter than Darik had expected, which suited him. He was there to work out, not because he particularly enjoyed it, but because Starfleet had standards and he had never seen the point in allowing his body to become a problem through neglect. He had only just stepped inside when movement on the mats caught his eye and, for one brief and distinctly confusing second, he thought someone had let a child into the gymnasium.

The figure was small, ginger-haired, slight enough to read at first glance as a human boy of perhaps thirteen, but there was nothing childish in the way he moved. He ran forward with complete commitment, launched into the air, turned cleanly through an aerial cartwheel that was genuinely impressive for the second it lasted, and then came down onto the crash mat with a heavy thud that spoiled the grace of it rather thoroughly.

Darik stopped and watched as the boy sat up panting and grimaced slightly. He was not that familiar with children, not very good with them due to...inexperience. Even so...he knew better than to retreat to the shadows in a public space like this. "Ambitious," he commented, voice slightly dry. "I'd say...nine for difficulty, seven for execution but four for style." It was meant as a light joke, something to...just warm up the interaction.

Andrew was startled. People usually kept to themselves at this time. But the joke made him smile. "Thanks." He said with a returned laugh. "I knew I should have started with a roundoff before flying." He admitted pulling his legs out from under himself, believing the peach-toned spoon-headed man was a gymnast himself.

Darik tilted his head a little to the side, walking over to one of the mats to stretch, to try and loosen up tense muscles before he'd punish them with exercises that he found incredibly boring. "Is that one of those flying kicks?" he asked, but his blue eyes shone with humour even if his face was schooled more serious. He knew it wasn't that. But he also wasn't a gymnast and had...no idea what a roundoff was.

Walking over to his water bottle, he confirmed it was, in fact, a type of 'flying kick'. "Sort of. You land with both toes placed together instead of one." Taking a swirl of water, he gulped it down, waiting for the question, 'What is a child doing on the Missouri?' Though for once he would like to meet someone who knew what an Onlie was.

Darik inclined his head slightly, stretching one shoulder as if to ease out the beginning of a knot there before the actual workout had even started. "I see. Well, I can safely say you pulled it off better than I would. I was never that...spry." The word sounded faintly suspect in his own mouth, but the corner of it shifted with dry humour all the same. "I'm Lieutenant Darik Moreau." The introduction was simple, no-nonsense...and would for him figure out where this boy was on the ship, who he was connected to. He sounded mature in a way that didn't quite fit, but equally Darik remembered being serious around that age, especially if it was in regards to his hobbies.

Ah, beating around the bush. Oh, how Andrew loathed that. All the traits in grumps, and that was solely the one he physically hated with all his being, he couldn't understand why they just say what they mean too. "Lt Cmdr Andrew Star, Sci... Engineering Chief." He replied, catching himself before he mentioned his previous chieftdom. "I'm an Onlie," he informed Mr. Moreau before he could mention Andrew's youthful appearance. "I'm 449 years old."

"Chief Intelligence," Darik said and gave a nod, even as his mind tried to remember the Onlie. His mind answered with a big blank and a should have paid more attention during xenobiology. He dismissed it. Species wasn't important, the person was. And neither was appearance. "Newly transferred. Good to meet you, Sir."

The high turnover of the Missouri. The rumors were true; people never seemed to last a full sol rotation, though Andrew did wonder where Gabi ended up, their budding friendship cut short already. "How are you finding it abroad?" Andrew asked, trying to make small talk in the hopes that a proper conversation would spark like the one they had earlier about gymnastics.

"I can programme my quarters to my desired temperature," Darik said and his blue eyes shone with humour at that. It sounded strange, but some ships didn't let you due to some strange idea of safety. "And it looks clean enough..." he made himself look more thoughtful, giving a shrug. "I've just come onboard. Not really...embedded myself in yet. But so far there's no bad marks against the ship, or its crew."

"People transfer off of this ship quicker than an ambassador on Nimbus III," Andrew warned. Realizing that seemed way too negative than it needed to be. "But that's lots of super neat things to do abroad. The Captain is great, too."

Darik hadn't made his mind up yet about the Captain. But he had heard from her about the transfers. "Starfleet Personnel Management will move people around like pieces on a chessboard," he said, meeting his eyes before he gave a small shrug. "Not always unusual depending on people's skills."

"Starfleet's a major factor in my resignation when the tour ends next year." Andrew blurted out with a slight gleam of annoyance in his eyes. The curse of the Online had let him see the horrors of the universe; now they were creeping into Starfleet, Andrew was willing to leave. "Any ideas if you'll leave the service too?" Andrew asked, still carrying on back and forth small talk.

Darik's face seemed to still as he watched the man in front of him. "I will not leave," he said, firmly. He had worked too hard for too long to throw it away on a whim. What surprised him was how easily the Chief Engineer was talking about leaving Starfleet...in fact, saying Starfleet was the reason he'd leave. That in itself did not make much sense to Darik as an argument, leaving the service because of the service, but perhaps it was a cultural thing with Andrew's species he had not considered.

Thinking it would be best if they got back on track. "Have you ever thought about gymnastics?" Andrew asked, hoping to create a potential prodigy or Missouri gymnastics team.

"No," Darik said and shook his head, taking a deeper breath as he considered it. "I am not...that bendy." He had been an awkward height as a child, worse as a teenager and as an adult...well. Gymnastics had never appealed to him. His eyes cut to Andrew. "I take it you have been doing it for a while?"

Too long Andrew thought before a quick reply left his lips. "Nearly 110 years, I think? I accidentally started when I dressed up as women and took membership in an all-girls gymnastics team to escape a (Orion) Syndicate attack with my friend, Sheng Chi." There was a brief pause, mainly between the two, mainly Andrew trying to remember; he was still human, and humans didn't have a long memory. But he knew he had outlived Sheng Chi, his first friend when he left his homeworld. There was something about a daughter, but the details were foggy now... He'd need to read his dusty diary to find that out.

Darik nodded, taking it on face value. "Got you out then. No wonder you keep doing it," he said quietly. Archery had been an escape from day to day for Darik...Andrew's story was darker, deeper, but the base...enjoyment was there. Some things you did because they were precious to you.

The little officer did gymnastics solely to remember the good things he had... But he didn't let on. "You must have something you do for fun, let me guess... Finger painting?" He asked, with a hint of intrigue in his tone.

Darik looked at him, features still. And then just a little tilt of the head, a little raise of the ridges over his eyes. There was a sense of amusement in there though. "Never liked getting it under my fingernails," he said smoothly. "Archery. I do archery."

"That's so cool!" Andrew replied. "Was it competitive? Did you join a academy team?"

"I..." Darik hadn't expected the reaction, or the enthusiastic questions. "I...yes, competitive," he said because it was the truth. "I did not join an Academy team." There had been reasons. He had tried. But he had found the bonding too loud, the focus too loose and his own patience worn thin. So he had never attended more than one session.

"Good thing too!" Andrew fired back. "I was going to join something, but the club secretary was like a Klingon General, they're so full of military prep people that can't be friendly... I like you, you're fun to talk too."

Darik laughed, unable to hold back at that. "And you're interesting. I like it when people defy expectations."

"That's definitely me!" Andrew quipped, pointing a big lanky thing to his chest. "I've been defying people's expectations for centuries... But I'm still a cuddle bear."

Darik huffed a chuckle at that, shaking his head. "Well, that is the last thing I expected to hear today. Someone confessing they are, as you say...a cuddle bear."

"You know what they say about space..." Andrew asked rhetorically, "We're all crazy here." Followed up by a small chuckle. "Say, do you have the time?"

Darik looked at him for a moment before he lifted his voice slightly. "Computer, what time is it?"

"The current time is twenty forty-six hours."

"Twenty forty-six," Darik repeated, looking back at Andrew with a slight tilt of his head.

"Oh shoot, I'm running late for my tea party on the holodeck," Andrew said, running like a headless chicken, putting away the equipment he was using in the gym. "It's with dinosaurs... In space... It's super fun! One of my favorite programs, actually... Would you, um. Care to join? They only bite cake, and they love meeting new people too!"

Darik watched him for a moment, taking in the invitation and...the dinosaurs. In space. Having a tea party. "I think I'll pass," he said, but there was a small smile there as he shook his head. "I've barely started here and I have some work I need to get through afterwards." He moved back towards the equipment before he glanced at Andrew again. "But thank you. Enjoy your tea party...and the dinosaurs."

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